#arcane fast food au

[fangirlpostsfangirlthings]

Promise | Zombie AU

summary: You and Jinx break two unsaid rules ever since the apocalypse started, never split up and never make promises. Promises were never guaranteed, especially in your current living conditions. But a promise of a life with your soulmate? You could get by it.

pairings: jinx x reader, established relationship

warnings: zombie apocalypse, zombie attack, kind of angsty? other than that; FLUFF

word count: 3.5k

a/n: here’s that zombie fic I was talking about :) also happy 1st birthday to arcane 🙏🏽

There was a mistake in the lab.

Unlike before, when someone took shimmer, they immediately became addicted. People couldn't live without it but it slowly killed them.

If you worked for Silco, you took it, you were told what to do, killed whoever you were ordered to kill, then moved on. But now it's permanent. You can no longer control it, and it spreads. Shimmer, that was once a drug, has become a disease.

It spread fast; no one saw it coming. You used see a shimmer head and think nothing of it. But now you run. Run before it can catch you and infect you.

Which was a very difficult task, because shimmer makes its host more alive in many ways. It enhances everything about you, strength, speed, stamina, all while it slowly kills you. Shimmer can make you ten times stronger than Silco's right hand man. It was almost impossible to beat them. That is unless you shot them in the head. Or blow them to pieces.

Lucky for you, you have a girlfriend who plays with guns and blows shit up for fun.

The two of you were on the hunt for food, your current supplies running low. And while you found food before entering the forest, you also needed to find water and shelter—the water in the undercity was never clean, so you had to do it yourselves. Meaning you also needed to create a fire, which wasn't too difficult to be done, you had what you needed for it, but knowing all the extra work that came with it annoyed you.

And now here you were, finally at the fork in the road.

Splitting up was never a good idea, especially when nighttime was near, but you had to get your supplies as quick as possible. You couldn't do that if you both were searching in the same place, right?

You swore you saw the reflection of water when you were on top of the smaller than usual-mountain-earlier. It was somewhere hidden in the forest you were currently trudging through, trailing the opposite way of the small building Jinx spotted with her telescope. It looked abandoned, meaning it could be empty, which is why she had to check it out to see if it could be used as temporary shelter while you filled up a bucket of water. It could be filled with shimmer heads.

You'd discussed the possibility of it being filled with the infected for the past however long you'd walked. She'd come to the conclusion that she would just blow the place to bits if it was. And while her solution didn't satisfy you, you knew she was better than okay at handling weapons. But even then, backup never hurt. "It's a done deal," she'd said.

"But we can just go together!"

"We need water!"

Jinx clasped her hands around yours, searching your eyes in attempt of reassurance.

"You promise me you'll be safe?" You both knew you couldn't make promises like that, because in this new reality, survival wasn't guaranteed. But she needed something to hold onto, otherwise you'd be stuck out in the middle of nowhere with no fire, trying to calm her down from a panic attack.

"You promise me." You replied. Because as much as she worried about you, you knew you worried 10 times harder. What if she let the voices take control What if she broke down in the middle of an encounter with shimmer heads? What if she got bit? What if she-

She brought her head to yours, having noticed the panic written on your face.

You grimaced, closing your eyes along with hers, "sorry." This was supposed to be about making sure she stayed calm, that she was reassured and confident enough to go alone. And here you were, letting your ugly thoughts control you.

She shook her head, "don't be." She brought your hand to her chest, pressing it to her heart. You felt it thumping, the thing that kept her alive, the very thing that beats for you.

It was an action you usually took. And the fact that she was using it to help you broke you a little, suddenly feeling vulnerable and not wanting to leave her side.

"We don't have to do this," she whispered, opening her eyes to encourage you to see the honesty there.

"No. We'll get through it faster this way. Just make sure we meet back here, okay? And light the smoke if anything happens." The more you convinced her to go through with it, the less convinced you felt yourself.

"We'll be okay, I promise." I promise.

You never promised each other anything, because you both knew better. Especially promising that you'll both be fine alone, going through a forest probably crawling with shimmer heads while nighttime was near. But you believed her.

You nodded, "yeah. We'll be okay."

You took her hands and reciprocated the action of letting her feel your heartbeat. You were both here, alive and filled with love. Nothing could take you away from each other.

She let out a breath, finally getting the reassurance she needed.

Your hands synchronized three squeezes. I love you.

You nodded at each other once more and went your separate ways.

Usually when you walked, it was with Jinx. You very rarely split up, because it was stupid to. But you really did need supplies as fast as possible. You walked faster.

The silence was deafening and it left you with your thoughts. With Jinx, silence filled you with peace. Thoughts of what life with her could be like if it wasn't for the disease.

God, you couldn't imagine what this horrible silence was doing for Jinx and her thoughts.

You nearly turned back, almost forgetting the importance of water until you thought-

A life with Jinx.

You can't make each other any promises for a reason, it was too risky.

But...what if you promised a life with her?

A promise of a life with who you believed to be your soulmate sounded too good to be true.

And it was, especially when your living conditions weren't ideal. But she'd already promised that you'd be okay. You can promise her a long life together, right?

You finally reached the lake, sighing in relief at the thought of getting back to Jinx.

But then something caught your eye. Something shiny, it was small. You picked it up from where it was buried under the dirt and observed it, gasping at the realization. You'd been so engrossed in the tiny object that you didn't register a twig snapping in the distance. Not until you felt a presence behind you.

"....That's not you, is it Jinx?"

It growled.

Shit.

You didn't register anything you did until you were up and running.

Which didn’t do much, because within seconds it had you pinned to the floor.

You pulled out the knife that was stuffed up your sleeve and sliced across it’s jaw, momentarily distracting it from you.

It roared from the unexpected pain, throwing its upper half back and giving you space to scurry away.

As you ran, you reached for the handgun that hung off your belt, feeling the ground start to shake a few moments later as the creature caught up with you. You reached a tree and climbed to the tallest branch, frantically searching for any weapon you could find. You pulled out a bomb. Bingo.

You threw it down at the shimmer head that had just reached the bottom of the tree. It looked down to observe the object as it jumped and jittered in place, giving you hope that this could end right now. You’d be out of the situation in seconds.

You climbed down the opposite side of the tree that you came up, jumping and landing on your feet, attempting to run away faster than before to get away from the explosion.

Except you didn’t get 5 steps in before the creature grabbed you. It threw you to the floor, sending the gun that was still in your hand flying behind you.

It resumed its previous position, except this time it held your hands by your head, affectively trapping you under its body.

If Jinx’s bombs were able to kill these shimmer heads, there’s no way you’d get out of this alive. Which reminded you of something. Your head turned, attempting to spot the bomb to see what the fuck happened.

It wasn’t going off. Why wasn’t it going off?! It should have already!

What the fuck were you going to do now?

It was a few moments of the shimmer head seemingly searching for the perfect place to take a bite out of you that you thought, just get it over with dammit.

But you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t give up and let Jinx crumble in the consequences of your death. All because you couldn’t try fighting it off.

But seriously, what were you supposed to do?

You looked everywhere you could with the big body that loomed over you. You stretched your leg out just the smallest bit and felt something. Was it the bomb? The object started jumping and shaking like your bombs usually did when they were activated. Oh my god it’s right there.

The noise distracted the creature again. It turned its body fully to watch the moving object.

You’re lucky shimmer heads didn’t have any type of intelligence yet.

You quickly turned, standing up to reach back for your gun and turned your body again to face the infected, aiming for its head.

If the bomb didn’t work the first time, what makes you think it’d work a second time?

And you swore someone was watching you and hoping, praying for your demise because the gun was empty.

You had to dig in your pockets to fill it up, the creature having heard the failed fire as it slowly advanced towards you. You started running backwards, keeping your face towards the shimmer head and quickly loaded the gun. You nearly pulled the trigger when a fucking rock so happened to be there, tripping you and sending you flying onto your back.

The shimmer head stopped in front of you. Perfect shot.

You pulled the trigger, a mix pink and red blood making a nasty splat on your face. This creature couldn’t have been bitten for nearly a week if some of its blood was still red.

You wiped your face, shaking off the shock from everything that happened, noticing how everything that could’ve went wrong, went wrong.

Oh well, it’s done now.

You took the bucket from the big bag that hung over your back and got the water, practically sprinting back to the spot you were supposed to meet Jinx.

•°•

You were still in the midst of processing your near death experience, having gone through many but that never made it easier. It couldn't have been 5 minutes in of waiting and worrying over your girlfriends being when you saw the blue clouds.

Shit. No no no.

She's in danger, she's hurt. The small building was probably filled with shimmer heads. They could all be surrounding her right now. She can't take all of them. Oh no no no.

You immediately felt your empty hand, the one that was supposed to be holding the bucket of water.

Well fuck. That was all for nothing.

But making sure Jinx was safe was more important. What good would water be if she's lying dead on the floor?

You ran and ran, noticing halfway through that the smoke was fading. And when you finally reached it, nothing seemed destroyed or broken, there was no noise. It was eerily quiet. Fuck. No. I'm too late.

You heard her call your name. Oh my god. By some miracle she's still alive.

You burst through the doors, not being considerate of how much noise you made.

"Jinx! Are you okay?!"

And there she was, completely unscathed (aside from the cut on her left cheek from yesterday and the purple bruises that stuck from last week).

So....she wasn't hurt?

"You fucking scared me!"

She flinched, "I'm sorry.." You saw the way she folded into herself, she felt unsure all of the sudden, not knowing if using the call was a good idea.

You felt horrible and sighed, shaking your head, realizing you let the stress of a long day get to you. "No no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice." She probably got scared, panicked, maybe she was worried about you. Goodness, you needed to watch your temper.

You walked up to Jinx, ready to embrace her. It was then that she finally got a good look at your face.

"Hey," she said, her brows furrowing.

"Hey you."

"Why is there blood and shimmer all over you?" Oh. Right.

"I ran into a shimmer head- I swear I'm okay! See? I'm still here in one piece," her face fell, the mention of one getting close to you sent her into a spiral. She could see everything now, your scraped elbows, skidded kneecaps, and your bruised wrists from where the creature grabbed you. You could tell that she was beginning to panic. You already know what she was thinking, practically reading her mind.

I insisted on splitting up. I did this. You could've gotten hurt- no. You did get hurt. Look at all the blood! Oh my god did you get bit-

You brought her hand up to your heart.

Her face crumbled and she broke into little sobs, her hand squeezing your shirt tightly in her fist. Your arms went around her, holding her upright to keep from completely collapsing.

"Shhh, sh sh sh. It's okay, you're okay. We're okay, yeah? Just like you promised."

You could feel her shakey breaths on your chest and her trembling form against you as you caressed her back. You hated this, you hated when she got like this. It felt like someone stuck their hand in your chest and ripped your heart out. It hurt.

"It's beating," she choked out. You nodded, resting your cheek on her head. "It wouldn't be doing that if I got bit, would it?"

She shook her head and sniffed when she finally looked up, her eyes still filled with tears. And it felt like the person who ripped your heart out was now squeezing it.

You grabbed the side of her face that held the fresh cut from yesterday, trying to ground her.

She was partially calmed down now, "let me clean you up. Please?"

You nodded.

•°•

You were sitting on a stool that was randomly propped in the corner of the huge shed. The place was completely empty, save for the surprisingly working lantern that was now sat next to you.

"Water?"

"Oh....I left it at the spot." You grimaced, thinking of how stupid the situation was. You could've just followed her here in the first place, there really was no need to split up.

She smiled, "Silly you."

You giggled along with her, feeling lightheaded from all the worrying you did today. It felt nice to just sit down and be calm. Nighttime was equally as stressful as daytime. The two of you taking turns on lookout for the infected, sometimes the two of you didn't sleep at all, letting paranoia take control. So sitting here, admiring your girlfriend with her eyebrows furrowed in a concentrated manner, lips forming a pout, it was a feeling you'd never forget. And oh my god, her freckles. Before everything, you'd lay in bed with her and count them. It was always too dark to tell if you'd counted the same one twice, but it didn't matter to you. You could stare at her for hours and never get bored. Jinx was perfect.

She wiped off as much dry grime and blood as she could without a proper wet cloth to clean it.

"All done," she stated proudly, setting the dirty cloth down and cradling your face gently, keeping your eyes on hers just to look at you. To fully take in the fact that you were okay.

You flopped your head forward and onto her stomach. Letting the days events get to you.

You fell into another one of those comfortable silences, the one where you were able to fantasize about a life together.

"I'm okay because of you."

She scoffed, "You almost died because of me." She sounded angry, but it wasn't directed at you.

"No. We were both at fault." You look up at her, your eyes telling her everything. You loved her, the shimmer head encounter wasn't your fault, nothing bad that happens is your fault, you're loved, you're appreciated.

And although you knew she could see it on your face, you still voiced it. Knowing that the voices in her head could trick her into thinking bad thoughts.

She swallowed her sobs, trying so hard not to cry again. Never fully digesting the fact that you actually loved her.

She listened to you talk.

"-and that leads me to this....I wanted to give you something. To-" you took a deep breath. "To make a promise."

You continued to hold her tightly to your body, your face still on her stomach, peering up at her. And you didn't elaborate, not until she asked you to. Not until she understood the weight of your words.

She nodded, signaling for you to continue.

You swallowed down your nerves and searched your pockets. Shit. Where is it?

You stood up, patting down your pants in effort to see if you'd missed the small object the first time.

No.

You dig in your sock, letting out a big breath of relief. Apparently you'd thrown it in there when that shimmer head approached you.

Another deep breath.

You got down from the stool and onto your knee, displaying the ring on your palm.

She was staring in awe, the most overwhelming look of fondness that you’d never seen before was on her face.

“I want you to marry me, Jinx. And I know, before you say this is stupid and completely idiotic of me because like, with the world quite literally ending? How can we have a life together when there’s monsters chasing us down? It’s crazy, I know that. But I want- no. I need to promise you something. I need to let you know that I love you, that I always will. I promise to always protect and give you the long and happy life that you deserve”

"I know, and I trust you. I'll protect you too." Your eyes, that were trained on her lips out of nervousness finally met her eyes. They were glistening with tears, which in turn made you more emotional.

You nodded. Your voice barely a whisper now, “til death do us part and all that crap. I just- you make me really happy and so.....yeah. Will you um, marry me? Maybe? I get if you think this is stupid but-” you were tripping over your words now. Completely and utterly wrecked with emotion, not sure if you could continue until-

“I’ll marry you! A million times yes! Yes yes yes!” She threw herself onto you, making you fall on the floor, sending you both into giggling messes. She was leaning over you, her tears falling on your cheeks as she just looked at you, an emotional wreck on the dirty floor.

You were honestly glad she'd stopped you from attempting to keep going, both relived that she’d said yes and because you knew you’d have resorted to speaking gibberish.

She probably did it on purpose. Sensing that you were having trouble forming any sentences in your emotional state.

You brought the ring to her face.

“Don’t be surprised if this doesn’t fit....I kind of just found it on the floor.” You put it to her ring finger, and what do you know. It fit perfectly.

You brought your bodies to an upright position while continuing to sit on the uncomfortably hard floor.

She smiled, holding your neck tight in her arms and asked, "So does this mean we're like....married? Or did you want a fancy wedding?" She brought her face back so that her cheek was touching yours. You felt her big smile against you, knowing she could feel the same thing.

You pulled her face so she could see the sincerity in your eyes. "No, I don't need a fancy wedding. I just need you."

She teared up more, her cheeks growing pink.

"But I promise you, we'll grow old together. We'll both live long enough to be able to eat at Jericho's again. We'll find kids to adopt even, if that's something you want."

"In my experience, you don't choose to have kids. The kids choose you."

You laugh, knowing the truth to that statement. Before the apocalypse, you'd find children on the streets of Zaun and they'd claim you. They'd force themselves into your home and into your life.

You wanted that. You wanted that as long as it was with Jinx.

"I promise, Jinx. We'll have that."

you can find my other works here: jinx masterlist

#can we talk about jinx real quick #look at how pretty she is in that picture :((( #my gf <3 #jinx x reader #arcane jinx x reader #jinx x gender neutral reader #jinx x y/n #jinx x you #arcane x gender neutral reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #jinx x fem reader #arcane fic #arcane fanfic #jinx fanfic

[tsunderesalty]

Getting to Know Each Other

Thank you for the tag, @fattybattysblog!

Last Song I Listened To: *Sobs as I dig through my YouTube history* It was Kerosene but the best part is looped. I like songs that are mostly just beats but also put me in a somber mood, if that makes sense. I made an entire playlist literally labeled "Somber Playlist" and there's a decent amount of songs just like that on there.

My Favorite Color: Ah, a toughie. For the longest time, it was a constant battle between red and green, but I think green has won out!

Last Film/Show I Watched: The last show I finished was Arcane: League of Legends when I rewatched it after a year two weeks back. The show I am currently watching is Young Justice, which I watched for the first time two years ago and have not watched since. And I am falling right back into it with all my favorite ships, dynamics, action scenes, plots, and character interpretations!

Sweet, Savory, or Spicy: Honestly, sweet and savory is where it's at for me! I just don't like spicy food, I'm too weak to handle it XD

My Relationship Status: I am le single.

Last Thing I Googled: Whether you believe me or not, the last thing I Googled was "Wheel of Names" so I could RNG writing ideas I had and write whatever was selected. I got "stargazing" from my ideas, so imma write that next!

My Current Obsession: Oh god, @mikaharuka is going to tease me mercilessly, but I've fallen so fast back into Arcane, specifically CaitVi, and Young Justice! I'm also currently losing my mind over four of my OCs and all the AUs and situations I keep sticking them in! @mikaharuka and @udaberriwrites keep enabling me into more T-T

Last Book I Read: I'm gonna keep it a buck with you all, I have no idea what the last book I read for fun was. I can make an estimated guess and say it was School for Sidekicks when I had free time over the summer and did my annual reread.

Looking Forward To: A shit ton of free time so I can catch up on my watchlist and my writing.

No pressure tagging to play: @residentdormouse, @chickensarentcheap, @mrsmungus, @oceangirl24, @aleksandriel, @kayedium-writes, @precambrian-sea-pancake, @aislinnstanaka, @bees-and-sunshine, @lena-hills

#tag game #getting to know you

[canyon-tale]

Here’s some questions from @doyouknowdewae ! I had to answer them in a post instead of a reply because the answers grew too long uvu;

When nightmare and others found Horror where did they find him and was he hostile(feisty) and after was he very concerned when trying to eat food?

Horror was found in his au (the whole dragon au is its own multiverse), and he was first found by Dust who was escaping from his own universe. They did not get along at first, Horror very much tried to eat Dust and Dust very much tried to kill Horror (should also be noted that the skull Dust is wearing is that of his Papyrus and this justifiably freaked Horror the fuck out). They were however quite equally matched and ended up kind of avoiding each other after a few failed battles. Dust tried to fix the magic portal he had used to enter the au, but was unable to find the right materials. Horror’s au has been consumed by a water domain, rotting and rusting most supplies and useful items, and this is also the reason why Horror went from ice elemental to water.

After observing Dust for a while Horror does try to help him but there’s nothing he can really do. They’re both stuck in the au and stuck together.

At some point a bond forms between them but they don’t really acknowledge it at the time, but they do grow a kind of symbiotic partnership. Dust has an abundance of magic in his body, often growing too strong for him to physically handle, freezing his body and leaving him immobile. Horror has the opposite condition and due to starvation is suffering from what’s called “dull eyes” which is when a dragon lacks magic and their eyes almost return to their baby greys. There isn’t enough food for him to be able to use his magic and it’s really only the magic of the domain keeping him alive. To solve both their issues Horror starts drinking Dust’s blood, giving him a much needed magic boost while Dust’s magic stays at a reasonable level.

Eventually Nightmare finds them, looking for more dragons to join him. He had only been after Horror, but was delighted to find Dust as well. He gives them a deal, he will save them from Horror’s dying au if they will work for him and if they can defeat Killer. Horror and Dust were very weak and malnourished at this point and Killer, being void corrupted and not feeling any pain or fear, definitely had the advantage. Only after making use of their bond and working together do they manage to pin down their void corrupt alter, at which point Nightmare allows them to join his “flight”. 

Horror was very protective of his food a good while after, and for the longest time he only really trusted Dust around him when eating.

Did horror, killer and dust become friends fast and how did they bond?

Very slowly actually. Of course Dust and Horror bonded in Horror’s au, and they were the two that could be called friends first, but they were still very distant with each other for a long time. Like they relied on each other, they had each other’s backs, but they weren’t super close. Horror did start caring for Killer’s physical health early on, as being void corrupted made it so he didn’t really register his physical needs. Horror would just keep an eye on him to make sure he wasn’t too cold or overheated, etc.

Horror and Dust do become closer at some point after Cross joins, and eventually become talonmates. They don’t really become close friends with Killer until after the void corruption is broken, but when it does Dust is actually the first to bond with Killer, Horror and Cross soon thereafter.

Who is the sweetest of the gang?

Tie between Cross and Horror! They’re both really soft sweethearts inside :D 

Have the gang met lust and if they did/didn’t how would or did they act?

Yes, Lust is technically part of the Star flight so they have met him in battle at the very least. He’s kind of a dangerous enemy since he’s an arcane elemental, same as Epic, and arcane magic works in two ways. One being “power” which is what Epic uses, very strong magic energy blasts and constructs. The other is “precision” which is what Lust uses, it works on a much smaller level but can be used to block or redirect magic flow within elemental creatures, which either disable magic use or really fuck someone up.

First fight with Lust the gang didn’t really take him seriously, he’s a nurse on a battlefield (and sure Dream is a nurse too but also a demi-god), they underestimated him and lost the battle because of it. They were a lot more cautious in the future after that and they all quickly grew a kind of respect for him.

Horror also grew kind of curious about him, and two of them actually end up bonding and working together a few times even before Dream and Nightmare’s truce. Their relationship grew closer after the truce when they were free to spend more time together, and they do end up becoming heartmates eventually <3

#horror Sans #dust sans #killer sans #cross sans #lust sans #utmv dragon au #dragon!horror #Dragon!Dust #Dragon!Killer #dragon!Cross #dragon!lust

[misterewrites]

Hope’s Meadow (Inc) *Mirror’s Edge*

I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! hiya everyone E here! still kicking and alive.

So this chapter is exceedingly late. I got busy during December and honestly a lot of people who i don't normally see came by to visit and such. I did write actually but those were personal gifts to my friends involving their own ocs and worlds and all that jazz and I didn't feel right posting them because they're not mine. So yeah i was writing i promise I just can't share them. But I'm here now.

I get it. It's a lot right now and I want you to know it's okay. It'll be okay. Even if it doesn't feel that way. Just take it a step at a time, have fun when you can and enjoy the little things. Step away and lose yourself in a story. Doesn't have to be mine but I would appreciate it. haha be safe, take care of yourself and your loved ones. Wear a mask. I know. I know but it's still a thing and we still need to take care of each other. Get vaccinated if you can. Push for it worldwide cuz we're all in this together (feel free to sing this bit) and hey, I'm proud of you. We made it this far! let's see how far we can go. Happy New Year 2023! :)

That's it for me! Be safe, have a great week. I am gonna try to update this within a week, two weeks and be more consistent on that. If you are enjoying this, thank you for your time. feel free to recommend this to anyone, leave a comment, reblog. I love it all! E is out, see you soon!

If you need an update what happened last time on Mirror’s Edge, here’s the last chapter ---> https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/106456251

Here’s the current chapter on a much more reader friendly site riiiiiight here! ---> https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/111360014

If you’re curious what all this is about here’s the story from the beginning https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

And if you’re in the mood for more familiar pieces of media, I got a whole a03 with legend of zelda, Arcane, Soul Eater, A Percy Jackson AU. You can find all that https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

And for those of us departing here, have a great day!

Summary: It's time to get to work and Casey is eager to get on the trail. First stop, after breakfast of course, is to visit the local cemetery and hopefully get the information out of some spirits. In the meantime a few more lessons about the other side wouldn't hurt especially if Casey wants to survive. 

-----

“So.” Casey asked eagerly as he placed their order on the table before them “Verdict?”

Yorrick shot the young man working the cash register a disinterested glance before hungrily picking up her breakfast bagel “My-something was way cuter.”

Turns out Casey was both right and wrong: This trendy fast food coffee shop HAD once upon a time been a sandwich shop. Evidently it was recently bought by A Taste Of Faire, some sort of medieval themed coffee...thing. Honestly Casey wasn’t sure what to make of it and he was too hungry to care.

Casey took his own breakfast in hand“Hope’s Meadow is around corner. We’ll finish up and head over.”

Yorrick was too enraptured by her meal to give any meaningful answer beyond a nod.

Casey chuckled before taking a bite himself.

The two ate in a surprisingly comfortable silence, a quiet that was both peaceful and oddly relaxing.

“I have a question.” Casey finally spoke after a few minutes of consuming his burrito “Do all you-know-whats look like bed sheets?”

Yorrick titled her head sideways “Youknowwhats? What’s that?”

Casey’s gaze shifted to Kal. The ghostly companion floated openly in public, his translucent form bobbing up and down in the sun.

“Umm….” He gestured with his eyes.

“The window?” Yorrick turned her head, unsure what she was looking at.

“N-no. Umm….your friend.” Casey patiently clarified.

Yorrick stared blankly at him

Casey pursued his lips, unsure how to further ask Yorrick about her ghostly friend.

“Oh!” Realization struck as Yorrick’s ghostly greens went wide “You mean Kal?” she motioned to him with her thumb.

Casey could feel his ears burn as he felt the pointedly stares of the other customers at Yorrick’s outburst.

Yorrick remained oblivious “I wouldn’t know I’ve always been able to see them as they were. They look like people to me. I guess it’s the closest concept your brain can perceive their form to be.”

Casey bristled at the idea “Wait but I know about death. I experienced it when my grandma died. I’m pretty sure I would know what a ghost looks.”

“I blame all those cartoons. Bed sheets are simpler to draw. Easier to remember.”

“But I’ve been to funerals.” Casey frowned “I’ve mourned, I’ve grieved. How can I not see ghosts?”

Yorrick chewed her food slowly “Well yeah but have you talked about death? Really come to terms with what it means to die?”

An uncomfortable tingle ran down Casey’s spine as the idea began to swirl in his thoughts. Fear and uneasy prickled at him and he struggled to keep his face indifferent.

“See?” Yorrick pointed with her half-eaten sandwich “You haven’t accepted it.”

“I….”

Yorrick interrupted “I get it. It’s not a very fun thing to talk about. The mere mention of death kills any conversation.”

There was a pause before her lips broke into a smile.

“Haha death kills any conversation.”

And with that the Gravekeeper of Souls descended into a fit of giggles.

Casey opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. There was a strange mixture of embarrassment and shame burning in him. He was sure she didn’t mean it like that but he felt somehow she was making fun of him, laughing at a joke only she understood.

“Oh that was so lame.” she wiped a tear from her eye.

“Yorrick…”

She stopped and eyed Casey carefully.

“Oh I’m sorry.” Yorrick sheepishly smiled “I didn’t mean to make you so uncomfortable. It was a funny joke! To me at least.”

Casey gave a strained smile “Oh it was. I was just wondering.”

“About?”

“What you said before the joke.”

“What I said.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully “What I said. Before the. Oh! About your inability to see ghosts and how that ties in with your lack of acceptance about dying.”

Conspiratorial whispers from the customers but Casey did his best to ignore it.

Yorrick straightened up “It’s a normal thing. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not.” Casey began but Yorrick clicked her tongue in disagreement.

“I am not making fun of you. It’s perfectly natural for you, me, anyone not to want their story to end. The unknown is the scariest fear in all existence and what’s scarier than the great unknown that awaits us all after we leave our mortal coils?”

Yorrick gave a reassuring smile “It’s okay not want to talk about the end. But that’s what I mean. I could see how awkward it made you feel, the uncomfortable thoughts that came just mentioning the word.”

Casey shifted in embarrassment.

“And I don’t think less of you for it.” Yorrick patted his shoulder “Because we’re all fighting for every extra second. And we should! Fight death tooth and nail. But with acceptance comes perception. Because spirits are entwined closely and tightly tied with death. You cannot remove one from the other.”

“So.” Casey began to realize what she meant “Because I don’t want to talk or think about it, my brain shuts out anything tied to it and that’s why I can’t see ghosts? Is that right?”

Yorrick gave a quick nod “Bueno! Estrella de oro para ti!”

“Umm excuse me?”

“Estrella.” Yorrick repeated, snapping her fingers in hopes of remembering the word “Estrella. You know. Es-tre-lla….Es-tre. Star! Gold star for you!”

“Oh okay.” Casey chuckled “I didn’t realize you knew Spanish though I’m guessing you know a lot of languages given how much you travel huh?”

Yorrick grinned proudly “Another gold star! Ghosts tend to stay stuck in their ways so to speak. And physically really. While they are capable of learning and adapting to their current…existence and settings, most just don’t and thus I need to learn how to communicate with them. Which means learning as many languages as I can.”

Casey nodded approvingly “That’s cool. Are you ready?"

Yorrick gave a salute, rising to full height with walking stick in one hand and the chain holding her tombstone in the other.

-----

Hope’s Meadow (Inc.) was the newest of the cemeteries that were inside the city proper and the only one to be blessed by a good-aligned cleric. Widow’s Weep up north was blessed by a cleric who followed the goddess of murder and Sunset Plains was covered by a cleric of chance. Casey wasn’t really sure who blessed Hope’s Meadow but he had a sneaking suspicion it was Doctor Carmichael.

Divinity and divine magic were interchangeable between the terms divine and holy. It had less to do with alignment or morals and more tapping into the positive or negative force of the gods. Every single paladin and cleric of any god could call upon the power and magic of their deity and have it considered divine. Casey was just as capable as any evil aligned cleric of drawing upon negative energy to harm others as a cleric of death was to draw up positive energy to heal or help others.

Honestly the only difference between the various paladins and clerics is the tenets of their god, a guideline to further their deities influence and power in this plane of reality. As a cleric of the Hearth, Casey believed in tending to the home, protecting others and caring for them as if they were family. There were many ways to act in the gods will but it was still a pretty rigid path. A goddess of murder tended to want murder done in her name, whether innocent or guilt-ridden blood did not matter to her. Casey’s god believed in devoting one’s self to others.

There were many benefits of course especially the free spellcasting. Clerics and Paladins didn’t know magic, not really. Instead their god of choice would guide their hand, providing them with the proper gestures and words to speak their magic into the world. No shortcuting powerful spells though. One still needed magical muscle to perform the higher levels of magic and the only way to build it up was to cast, cast, cast.

Blessing cemeteries was much about safety as it was a civic duty. Hallowed, blessed grounds prevent fae from entering and turning the place into their own personal playground. Shockingly, fae were pretty irreverent about everything.

It also prevented necromancers from raising an army of skeletons and zombies, a favorite pastime of theirs.

Most importantly, however, was the preservation of souls. Spirits were very valuable in all forms but especially in many dark spells. Blessing the ground not only prevents unsavory forces and creatures from wandering in but also offered a safe haven for any wayward spiritual beings. Even evil gods and goddesses agree that it would not be good for anyone if spirits were used to fuel terrible, dangerous unnatural magic.

It was still early so very few people were out and about here. Casey wasn’t exactly sure what Yorrick was up to but he figured it was better that less prying eyes were around to see it. Finn warned him the Council still hadn’t figured out what exactly the Veil blanketed or what it did not.

Yorrick stood in the middle of the walkway, her gaze fixated seemingly on some far horizon only she could see. She took a deep breath in before tapping her finger once against the top of her rusty lantern.

There wasn’t a muted thud like Casey was expecting but rather a single chime of a bell, a beautiful sound that vibrated the air itself with an ancient power. He could feel it wash over him, sending a chill down his spine and making his hairs stand on end.

The chime faded slowly but its effect was noticeable: The air was still but cold with a thick tension that had not been there a moment before. Hushed, hurried whispers echoed all around him while a fog rolled in from nowhere. A deep instinctive fear uncoiled itself in the pit of his stomach and the sudden urge to run far away from this place began to claw at his resolve.

Yorrick was unaffected. In fact she leaned closer, head tilted to one side as if listening to someone. She nodded a few times before murmuring something in return to the whispers.

It could’ve been his imagination but for a brief moment it sounded like the fog let out a sigh of relief and thinned ever so slightly.

------

It went on like this for an hour: Yorrick listened to the whispering of the invisible force and would speak in return. Sometimes it was a quick conversation, a few words back and forth. Other times it felt more like a heated debate as Yorrick spoke with a firm edge as if scolding to a fuming child. Once Yorrick only muttered a single word and a harsh breeze would pick up out of nowhere and vanished just as quickly.

Whatever Yorrick was doing did not consistently affect the mysterious fog that surrounded them. Mostly after each discussion (or scolding) the mist dissipated a bit. A few times, to him at least, it looked like nothing had changed.

“Yorrick?” Casey gently nudged her shoulder to get her attention.

Yorrick whirled around, clearly surprised “Oh Casey! Hi there. Sorry I didn’t really explain all” she gestured to thin air “This. I’m not used to people actually coming with me to work. Or watching me work. Or staying to watch me work.”

“That’s okay.” Casey reassured her gently “I take it you’re helping spirits move on?”

“Or updating them on the current year, events.” Yorrick added in “Or offering to pass along messages to their living loved ones.”

“The one with the breeze?”

Yorrick’s face turned deadly serious “Troublemaker. Well not anymore. Did you want to go do something else? I might be a while. Major city’s cemetery tends to have a large spiritual population and I don’t want you to sit around bored out of your mind.”

“Actually as I am a cleric I was thinking I could help you with all this. It is one of my duties though admittedly.” he looked around, unsure where to look “It is a little lacking and I might have trouble helping what I can’t see.”

“Don’t worry Casey I gotcha!”

Yorrick reached into her pocket, pulling a matchbox out. She struck the matchstick against the rough grooves of the box and lit the lantern. Orange flame burned a ghostly green within the lantern and crackled with a warm heat.

The light from the lantern washed over the fog and what was once cold frigid air became people. Different people and races surrounded them in a loose circle. Some floated midair lazily. Others had their feet planted firmly on the ground as they did when they breathed. Some were chasing each other in play, waiting impatiently for their turn. Translucent, pale spirits of various ages and walks of life. Normal people no different than anyone else Casey passed by every day.

Well except the giant knight that towered over everyone.

Casey knew his eyes went wide in shock and his mouth was agape though it was hard to blame him. This spirit wasn’t like the others: It was much more solid. While the others wore differing articles of clothing from across the ages, this spirit donned full armor, a sleek white shade that gleamed as bright as the sun. It was easily 8 feet tall with a shield half its size at the ready. Firmly planted in the grass was the hilt of an impossibly massive sword that Casey couldn’t ever hope to even budge. Two pure white wings held the spirit aloft The symbol of a scale emblazoned on its chest told Casey that Doctor Carmichael did not bless this place.

“Cleric of Justice.” Casey mumbled in awe “Okay. Eden maybe?”

Yorrick carefully pushed his shoulder “System shock buddy?”

“Yeah. The spirits I was expecting but.” He pointed to the massive armored spirit “Should’ve expected an angel and an archangel no less.”

“The gods do not mess when it comes to the spiritual world.” Yorrick stated matter of fact.

Casey took a deep breath in “Well we’re still alive. That’s good. C-can I get to work?”

Yorrick said nothing. Instead she gestured to the still shell shocked cleric and proceeded to speak with the next spirit in line.

A young man floated up to Casey and waited patiently. Upon realizing this, Casey shook focused on the task at hand.

“Y-yes?” Casey asked shakily, trying to ignore the massive archangel hovering overhead “How can I help you?”

"Hola senor! Mi nombre es…”

“Yorrrrrick! A little help!”

-----

One “English only” sign and a few hours later, Casey felt accomplished despite the fact he was unsure either of them had gotten any information about the crisis at hand.

He listened to the spirits, their questions and concerns. Their hopes and fears. Regrets and dreams long since passed. He offered comfort to them and prayed to the Hearth for them. Even cast the odd simple spell from time to time, a small blessing. He wasn’t very good at it if he was being honest but the spirits at the very least seemed to appreciate his efforts.

Some vanished just as they had done with Yorrick. The Gravekeeper explained that these spirits had chosen to move on with the next stage of their existence but could return if called. Some stayed, relived at Casey’s words but only floating off to wander the cemetery. Yorrick told him these spirits usually still had some sort of business left here, often waiting for their loved ones so they could move on together though some just liked Earth too much to leave. Still, informing them of current events was a good way to keep them calm and not lashing out in confusion.

He didn’t get any troublemakers thankfully though it seemed Yorrick did. She was ontop of it though, banishing the spirits with a single word before moving onto the next waiting in the wings. During their break Yorrick informed him that she simply forced them to move on. Unlike choosing to move on, however, it wasn’t permanent and they could easily return though it was difficult for any spirit. She did mention she could’ve made it a permanent eviction with the proper spells and rituals but these were normal people’s spirits and those extreme measures were saved for extreme cases.

Casey was curious on how exactly spirits were called back to this reality but luckily a family had saved Yorrick from explaining it.

It was a mother and her adult son visiting their father and husband. They brought him flowers and spent a few minutes cleaning his plaque. Casey wasn’t sure when he appeared but he did: an older fellow, translucent and ghostly like the others. They spoke of news and changes in their life with tears and grief in their eyes and while they couldn’t see him, he heard them. The old ghost cheered when told of good news and groaned at misfortune. He held them tight when the bad times came up and beamed with pride at their accomplishments. Perhaps some part of them could feel him because while they grieved, they felt more at peace. They hoped he was well and promised to visit soon. They left and so did the old ghost.

“Love.” Yorrick smiled softly at the family.

Casey smiled “Too powerful a force to be bound to a single memory.”

“He still sees them by the way.” Yorrick clarified “Watches over them from the other side. Most spirits don’t usually get enough strength to affect our lives but that one. Stubborn as a bull.”

“They still remember him at home.” Casey added in, piecing everything together “Their love keeps his memory alive.”

“And that allows him to watch over them. Even visit them there too.” Yorrick finished

Casey nodded in agreement but fell into silent contemplation.

There were still quite a few spirits wandering around but those were ones who had chosen to stay for the time being. It was nice and quiet, a peaceful calm filled the cemetery.

Casey decided to bite the bullet “Any leads on our end of the world event?”

Yorrick remained silent, her eyes searching for someone in particular but not finding them.

Casey was about to ask who she was looking for when he found a curious pair of eyes staring directly at him.

It was the spirit of a young boy, 6 maybe 8 years of age. It was hard to tell. There markings around his eyes and chin, messy lines and uneven patterns of tribal tattoos like the child had attempted to emulate some warrior’s markings. He had round chubby cheeks, seemingly never getting rid of his baby fat. He had a mess of black curly hair and he was an average frame for a boy his age. His bare arms had more messy tattoos running down them.

“Yorrick.” he nudged the distracted Gravekeeper “I think we got one more customer.”

Yorrick snapped her head in the direction Casey gestured, her eyes going wide with excitement as she bellowed at the top of her lungs “KAL!”

“Kal!?” Casey choked out, completely caught off guard by this revelation.

Kal did not move from his spot behind a headstone. He simply flickered out of existence and reappeared before them before Casey could even blink.

“How did he….?”

“Don’t let his appearance fool you Casey. He’s thousands of years old.”

Casey gulped upon realizing the implications of that statement.

Yorrick, completely obvious to Casey’s surprise, turned to her ghostly partner “Kal, what did you find out?”

Kal said nothing.

“The museum?” Yorrick tilted her head curiously “Are you sure?”

More silence.

Yorrick pursed her lips thoughtfully “Well that will be tricky but we’ve worked with worse!” She leapt to her feet, hoisting the tombstone onto her back with little effort “Come on Casey! We’re robbing museum!”

“That’s nice.” Casey groaned, struggling to resist the syrupy urge to sit back down “You know if Kal is thousands of years old, he must be insanely...wait. Did you say rob a museum?”

“Yep! Hurry up we’re burning daylight!”

And with a mad sprint, Yorrick waved goodbye to the spirits as she raced outside the cemetery gates.

Casey suddenly felt his legs turn to jelly.

“Sure. Just rob a museum. No pressure.” He mumbled to himself as he uneasily wobbled after Yorrick.

#Mirror's Edge #my Work #Original Work #original story

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

Interdimensional Therapy AU - Part 7

Welp its been a while, I do apologise for that- anyway-

A Jeanist crossover fic with @laughteronsilverwings!!

This time we start with e!jeanists pov!!

Previous Part || Next Part

CW: None, but pls let me know if I've missed anything /gen

-

“Ah, thank you.” Tsunagu nods and takes his ice cream, placing it opposite his drink -so it wouldn’t melt too fast- and making sure the spoon was neatly stuck in the top of the ice cream. He had gotten through two skewers now and almost all the bread- luckily just the right amount of everything was left. Perfect. 

“So…” he trailed off, looking down as he saw a couple of civilians looking at him from the crepe stall in the distance behind Arcane. Pointing and whispering, always trying to be discreet but making it more obvious. It was fine, it didn’t matter. It never mattered. Tsunagu was so used to it- but that didn’t stop how embarrassing it felt. It didn’t stop the guilt. He cleared his throat and forced himself to look back up at Arcane. “Any friends? School friends?”

-

Tsunagu takes a bite out of his ice cream. He can hear and feel the whispers, comments -some sexual, some degrading, all of them making him calmly furious on Jean’s behalf-, the shifting of fabric as people turned away to gossip. “I can light them on fire if you want,” He says casually. “Or tell them to stop. Or run them away…” Honestly, he wants to humiliate them. Make them trip. Clothes coming undone. Tsunagu wants to beat them bloody and claw their eyes out. 

He might be going a little bit too far off the rails here. So Tsunagu doesn’t voice his thoughts out loud. 

“But I’m homeschooled, so, uh, I don’t really have friends.” He takes another bite. Honestly, today might be the longest conversation he’s had with someone that isn’t over the internet or related to schoolwork in… years. Hm. Maybe discounting Paris though. But then again, it had mostly been sign language and writing for the longest ones, and with the police it had been also short. 

But anyways. Back to food.

If he mixes the mint ice cream in, would it taste better or worse? And if he dips the ice cream in freshly-spilled blood, would that make him throw up or enhance the taste? 

-

Tsunagu gave a panicky laugh and waved his hands slightly. “Ah- hey, no don’t worry about it- I’m used to it.” He finished up his food and stared at the plate. Hm. Let’s not…

“Homeschooled, huh?” Interesting. Tsunagu can’t help but wonder how his life would be right now if he hadn’t been forced through the hells of public schools and all that came with it. It probably wouldn’t have changed much, though. People always found ways to…gossip. Maybe the physical aspect would have been different…who knows.

“I see… I attended a public middle school… It was such a mess.” He reminisced, forcing out a small laugh and picking at his ice cream. Mint-choc-chip… well, it tasted just as good as any other ice cream does- so he wasn’t gonna make any complaints! “So- do you have a question?” He tilted his head. There were some obvious ones that Arcane could ask, but seeing as he seemed to pick up on… well- not picking them up- he may change the subject, and well, Tsunagu wasn’t going to complain about that either.

-

Tsunagu frowns, going over the things Jean’d said in his head. “Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean that it’s right,” He says, scraping both of the ice cream balls out, tipping them into his mouth, and swallowing most of it as soon as they landed. “Public middle school? If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to. I can find another question,” He mumbles around the remains of frozen… cream? 

Actually, he didn’t know what ice cream was made out of. So. Mouthful of slowly-melting ice cream. The dessert cooled both his body and his anger. 

…Tsunagu was still quite tempted to, like, shoo the onlookers away, though. Honestly. Didn’t people know how to mind their own businesses, in his universe? There wasn’t ever things happening like this, in his Paris. 

But that might be because of the underground crime. And vigilantes. Maybe his ‘verse was just wilder? Eh, whichever one. 

“Ah, well where to start…” Jean scratches his head. “My parents didn’t want to send me to private school, since they thought it would give me and my sister-” Oh, he has a sister? Maybe that was who the HPSC had over him. “-a better experience.” He rolls his eyes. Ah. Tsunagu senses a story, there. He hasn’t been to any schooling-schools, but he’s, well… heard stories of how bad things can get, if you’ve got a ‘bad’ quirk. 

Complete bullshit, in his opinion. The only thing that made villains were expectations and surroundings, mostly. There were a bunch of other factors, yes, but, well. Jean was talking. Tsunagu wasn’t going to go on a philosophical rant. 

“The only experience I got was a shit ton of bullying and almost dying- many times- and severe anxiety and depression.” Jean laughs bitterly, eating his ice cream with small bites. Tsunagu couldn’t relate to that. The ice-cream eating, that was, not the mental illness. He’s pretty sure he… might have something along those lines? “UA was, quite frankly, a lot easier to go through after all that, though.” 

Jean picks up another bit of ice cream, a little larger than the rest. He eats it. Tsunagu nodded. Well, good to know that children were cruel in all universes. “...Well,” He says. “I mean. Children are cruel everywhere, I guess. Sorry you had to go through that. And good job on not snapping. If you want to go and burn the school down -I’m assuming this is your world, since we haven’t run into a third one of us- we can go, I’m totally down for that.” 

If it had been him, and he’d been forced to go through all that, day by day, hour by hour… Tsunagu was fairly sure there’d be deaths, and not his. Well, maybe his, but also probably not? He’d have made it look like an accident. What a shame, that this child didn’t look both ways before crossing the street. What a shame, the school didn’t check it’s lunches, leading kids to get sick. Food poisoning is such a slow way to go. 

Ruining reputations and getting rid of assholes. Two bird with one stone. He coughed. “Anyways, it’s your turn on asking, right?” 

-

“Ah, thanks- though, there were definitely times I almost did snap- luckily not.” Tsunagu smiled. 

But also. What the fuck. How- How on earth did Arcane just eat that ice cream???

“I- I need to ask…” Tsunagu shook his head in disbelief. “Sorry, but how on earth did you just. Eat your ice cream like that?”

“Oh, I don’t have a gag reflex anymore,” Arcane says, sipping on his boba. “I trained myself out of it because of- well, you know the food they serve at fancy adult galas, weddings, and how it’s both… not very good, and it’s rude to not eat it? It’s easier without a gag reflex. I still taste it, but it makes it easier to keep a poker face.” He shrugs. “Some people thought I got rid of it for something else, though.” 

No gag reflex… huh. Tsunagu nodded, thinking about all the fancy hero parties he was taken to as a kid. “That… sounds like a good trick to have…” But hold on- something else? “What… what do you mean, something else?”

Arcane scrunches his face up. “It’s a little bit weird, but apparently they thought I was, uh, sucking dick. To put it crudely.” He chugs the boba through the straw, draining a good third of the remaining drink. Somehow. 

Tsunagu choked on the last bits of his ice cream, plenty of thoughts and questions flooding his head but one in particular:

THAT IS A CHILD.

“Wha- who- why???? You-” He stuttered, making a very expressive face and gesturing at the air. “That….huh??” He settled on. Yeah, there really wasn’t a question there, more just pure confusion. 

-

Tsunagu shrugged. “I’m pretty sure they were just looking for gossip,” He settles on. Also, he’d been an adorable kid -according to people he’d ‘grown into his features very well’, whatever that meant- and as such, had been prime gossip-bait.

Plus he was fairly sure one of the regular guys at the galas his parents took him to was… well, he’s just going to say that that guy likes feeling strong. Dominant. Probably had a superiority-inferiority complex of some kind. 

And, yeah, he’s not going to think about this anymore. 

“Okay- so-” Jean calmed himself down, taking a serious tone. That was the tone for a Serious Talk. “Throwing aside people’s constant need for gossip -being a direct target of it myself too- you are… still just a kid.” He grimaced. What was Jean thinking about? Well, he did say that he’d been bullied before. Tsunagu has started few whisper campaigns, he knows how effective they are. Or maybe it was more recent? Oh, he’s talking again-

Jean tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “Maybe it’s jokes and gossip, but well- still. Unfortunately we aren’t in your ‘verse… I’d love to knock some sense and general decency-“ The sentiment was sweet, but they were rich, morally deficient people in a wholly different way than him. Knocking skulls together, or manners, would be a whole other beast. “-into them… in whatever ways would fit best.” Jean leant back in his chair, sighing and crossing his arms. 

Tsunagu’s… oddly touched by this. Fuck. He’s gotten attached. He adjusts his glasses. “That’s… kind of you?” But he doesn’t really get it. Why would Jean, well, help? Tsunagu’s clearly got things under control -though from his perspective it might not be?- and he’s not bothered by it. So. Hmm. 

Would asking why Jean cared be used against him? 

He discards the thought almost as quickly as it came to mind. Jean wasn’t- well, he might be, but if he was to hurt Tsunagu he’s pretty sure it wouldn’t be in the form of verbal attacks. Though. Still- augh. 

This was a different world. Nothing that was said here would be able to get back. So Tsunagu clears his throat. “Though. Um, why are you… bothered about this?” 

He also wants to ask about the dick tapestry in Jean’s apartment. But that could wait.

-

Ah. So, how would Tsunagu put this? That he’d kinda gotten attached to Arcane now, and if anything happened to the kid he would probably kill everyone in his own ‘verse, find a way to kill everyone over there, and then possibly himself? Nah. 

Or that hey, I’ve just got a shit ton of trauma and I don’t think you wanna go through that, buddy. Hm. No. not that either.

Maybe he’d just settle with: I don’t really want anything bad to happen to you, and this hits a little close to home.

Yeah, that worked. He sighed, looking at the empty plates and cups in front of both of them. ‘Huh… I actually ate all that?’ He frowned. That… never usually happened.

“Well… I guess I just don’t want you to deal with some of the things I have.” He wonders if this is the right thing to say. Was it? “Gossip can lead to some pretty awful things… and I guess this subject strikes a bit of a nerve, I do apologise.”

He pushed his tinted glasses back up his nose and rolled his shoulder around a bit - damn, it was hurting more than usual… probably the sleepless nights over the computer doing paperwork. “My point still stands, though. If anyone causes you trouble, I’d gladly sort them out for you… even if we may be from different ‘verses- I’m sure there’s a way somehow.”

Leaning back, he contemplated telling Arcane a little bit more about his school life, his scars… but no, maybe another time. It was Tsunagu’s turn to ask, after all.

“So, Arc.” He reminded himself aloud, that they were using different names. “You plan on being a hero? Moving on from… vigilantism, and going to a hero school? Maybe UA- or Yuuei, as you call it?”

-

Hm. Well… “Yep,” Tsunagu says. “I’m planning on Yuuei, yeah. I’m not sure if I’m going to give up the vigilantism, though.” 

He doesn’t really want to, honestly. He takes one last big sip of his boba, and it empties out. “…Thanks,” Tsunagu says, startling even himself. “About- um, caring? And saying that you’d, uh, straighten them out.” 

It’s very sweet. Sort of unneeded, but… it’s nice. Brings up a syrupy-warm feeling in his chest. However: some of the things Jean had gone though? Hm. Tsunagu’s not stupid. The gossip was sexual -had some elements of it-, and people who had to that type circulating around them usually got… harassed more than the average person. Catcalls, flirting, people getting touchy when they had no right to do so. Assault. Rape, sometimes.

Hm. Well, it looks like Tsunagu will have to do some digging. Online. He’s not that uncaring about Jean anymore. “My turn for a question?”

-

Tsunagu nodded with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. But hey, wishing you luck on getting into UA! I hope you have some good times there, and meet some people!” He knows he did- though some bullies found their way in, he had a much better time there. Especially in his third year.

He sighed, leaning back a little. “But yes- it is your turn!”

-

And that'll do it for this part! Let's hope I don't forget to post the next bits as much as I did this time /lh :]

#bnha #tw caps #best jeanist #hakamada tsunagu #interdimensional therapy au #hee hee hoo hoo #its been a while whoopsie that is my fault for forgetting #anyway heres tis part!! #hope you enjoy :D

[puchkinalit]

En salle

Sans jamais le nommer, la narratrice raconte son expérience d’employée polyvalente dans un restaurant McDonald. Son embauche, la manageuse de salle qui croit tout savoir mais qui n’en fout pas une, les postes de travail que tout le monde évite, le drive et ses dialogues parfois absurdes, l’odeur des frites, les mains qui pèlent à cause du produit détergent, la tête vide, la parole creuse et le corps las à la fin de la journée de travail. Elle tisse en parallèle ses souvenirs d’enfance avec son frère et ses parents, les rares fois où ceux-ci les emmenaient au McDo. La maman à la maison, le père un peu beauf, un peu radin mais au grand cœur, l’école et les devoirs, les vacances, l’adolescence et les petits copains. Alternent ainsi dans ce roman, l’intime et l’enfance avec le travail dépersonnalisé et la vie adulte.  Un bel exercice de style qui, s’il n’a pas la puissance cadencé du livre de Joseph Ponthus A la ligne qui traitait différemment du même sujet le corps humain au travail, fait entrer le lecteur dans les arcanes d’un fast-food et offre à son héroïne deux chemins possibles, s’enfermer dans un boulot débilitant ou prendre le contre-pied de son père qui ne s’est pas épanoui dans son travail et dans sa vie.

7,5/10

En salle / Claire Baglin.- Les Editions de Minuit.

[lazifyre]

@cirilee posted an AU where shimmer and the last drop are competing fast food joints and I’ve had it on my mind since I saw it. I imagine the Academy would be a prestigious culinary school that sees fast food restaurants as falling short of culinary excellence. Caitlyn drops by when she needs a break from classes to eat good food and definitely not just to see the hot waitress. Also head chef Jayce and his kitchen partner Viktor 🥂

#my art #arcane viktor #arcane jayce #arcane #arcane netflix #arcane lol #league of legends #arcane au #arcane fanart #jayvik #jaytor #vilyn #caitvi #cirilee #arcane fast food au

[cirilee]

super random AU doodle where shimmer is just a fast food joint competing against the last drop and everything is just petty neighbor squabbles. also everyone's alive. sevika and silco are probably fake married to avoid taxes.

#arcane #league of legends #silco arcane #sevika arcane #jinx arcane #cirileeart #doodles #arcane fast food au

[takalzuoom]

i’m procrastinating my noxus fic and more self aware arcane au cause i have 0 motivation 😺

and i also watched the ‘therapist reacts to viktor’ and just thought about singed and viktor’s relationship

cw: mentions of shimmer addictions, mentions of 0rgan trafficking, singed

so i give you:

apprentice! reader x viktor

obviously this is platonic

in zaun

it was one of his visits to zaun when he saw you. in nothing but rags sitting on the steps on what seemed to be a brothel

he never paid much attention to the kids in zaun, being one himself he knew there were groups that looked out for each other. that were your family

so he figured you were waiting for them to return with food.

but every time he’d visit singed, he’d note you that you were reading the same dusty covered book, that seemed more and more damaged as you read it.

occasionally he would catch your eye, noting your sunken face and discoloring, but the first time you ever talked was when he saw you hunched over a new book- books as you switched from ex hone one.

“what are you writing?”

as quickly as you were writing, you snatched the books from the stairway and hugged them to your chest. spare papers fluttering from them as you hastily picked them up.

he didn’t mind the panicked look on your face as he picked up a stray paper you were about to grab.

“that’s mine!”

“ i am merrily just give it a look over”

“give it here!”

his eyes lingered on a sentence before you ripped it from his fingers before stuffing it all the way against your chest.

you tried scurrying away before he called at you with your notes and papers

“tell me- why are you researching shimmer?”

“that’s none of your business, plitover” he though a conscious look was on his face, he smiled at your weak excuse of a insult and of the fact that you couldn’t even finish it

so as anyone would do, he ignored it

“why aren’t you playing with the others? ive seen an amount of them around.”

you stopped, kicking your dust as you looked at him form under your bangs

“…they don’t want to play with me…” you trailed of, looking to the side

“they say brainiacs like me won’t do anything for them for food… kick me out”

as you were a child, you wore your heart on your sleeve so he knew what was going on in your head…

“what about your parents? did they… perhaps get into shimmer”

“is that what you heard around? cause that isn’t true! it’s not! whoever you heard that from is a liar!”

“i see… tell me, how would you like to come with me?” he walked forward a step

“and get used for organ trafficking? no way. i may not be as fast as the other kids, i’m still fast, and i doubt you’ll be able to catch up-“

“i’m not here for that” he reassured

“i just know what it’s like to be alone due to your intellect” he took another step

turning around he looked back as he started walking. “i’m, from zaun too”

“and the research you did- ehh albeit a bit fundamental- but i see potential in what you do. and someone… i know told me ‘ the brightest minds are often the loneliest”

he left you alone after that, knowing that the unspoken offer was still on the table every time he saw you scribbling something down each time he visited singed

even though he never really looked at you, he always felt your beady eyes staring at his figure. and he found it amusing when he would purposely take different routes, only for you to go looking from him and peer at him from around a far corner

he noticed how you would sometimes follow him to singed’s lab. one time actually asking him where he was going. “come find out”

and there you were. finding comically behind the scientists. well- hard to hide when hehe side stepped to expose you to the ‘demon man’

viktor wasn’t… fond of the idea of you staying around with singed, as he remembered the horrors from his childhood. but he’s grown up now- understands now. and he’s fully aware that you don’t have anyone else.

your words as you’ve heard of the horrid experiments he’s done

“oh? and who might, this be?”

he had made an agreement with singed that you would study under him just like how viktor didn’t and in those few weeks, while he never gave you lodging, he did provide you new study materials and sometimes food.

he almost treated you like he would treat his own child. though that did take a while to get at that stage.

and when viktor came to visit you were mostly banned from the lab. albeit sometimes you were allowed to sit in and sometimes give input. but most of all it was a learning experience for you

and when you had expressed an interest of attending the university of zaun- viktor gave the option of attending the academy and staying in plitover. with him.

this was mostly a bit of plot… so i’ll get into the actual shenanigans in another post😼

#takalzuoom #kai…🌊 #singed #arcane viktor x reader #arcane #arcane x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x y/n

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 51- Fallen Angel

(Sorry this is late! i got my vaccine and it mcfucking knocked me out lol)

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

The hermits return to Eremita from a restocking trip, to discover they have been raided. And one hermit has been taken. 

Warning: Capture, slight torture scene

_________________________________

Eremita has become their safe haven, the last bastion for the guild. Even when the arcane guard chased them all the way to the water’s edge, no sane person would dare follow the hermits into the Ashioll sea. Which is exactly why they lived in its mysterious, misty embrace. 

They could no longer simply fly off upon the backs of sky turtles, or even teleport into the towns they frequented. Now, when the hermits absolutely had to go into public for supplies they couldn’t make or grow themselves, they sailed in on Cleo’s pirate ship. And when they had to leave, they made sure that if anyone was following them, they took a roundabout direction back to their home. It adds time, weaving between the islands and through the mists, but ensures no one can guess where they live. 

Cleo’s pirate ship beaches up onto the sand, nestling back into place as a wrecked vessel once more. The dream magic fades, revealing broken oak boards, seagrass growing through seams, and splintered masts of the ghost ship Cleo commands. Hypno blinks free from his sleep, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Already? Man, my dream was just starting to get interesting.” 

With the help of rattling skeletons, their bones held together by magical muscle and sinew, the hermits unload food, meats, fabrics, and more. Enough for months, as if they were preparing to be snowed in after a massive blizzard. Almost all the hermits were a part of the flow of supplies. 

Almost. Only three hermits stayed behind. Zedaph had an accident with his two explosive friends, and while it wasn’t the first time, Grian wanted to keep an eye on the burns in case the magic lingered. Mumbo stayed behind as well, but for very different reasons. One, he was easily recognizable. Everyone knows the multimage that Dolios wants captured alive. Him and Grian are the only two who Dolios demands be captured alive. He also was in the middle of inventing some new contraption, and was not about to leave it behind and lose all his progress. Last Cleo saw of him, he was extinguishing burning locks of hair. She wonders if he’s made any progress, or if he’s burned all his hair away at this point.

Once Impulse and Tango have unloaded their share of the shipment, they go in search of their friend. Both still feel bad for burning Zed, even if it was by accident. And they’ve all been burned at this point in all their years together. But it doesn’t mean they don’t feel bad, especially leaving Zed behind. At least they brought back a caramel apple from his favorite stall in the market, as well as fresh hay for his barn and animal friends. 

“Zed? We have a surprise for you!” Tango calls, his voice twinged with mischief, as if they plan to prank their friend rather than give him a gift. No response comes from the flat roofed barn, except the distant bleat of a sheep. Tango looks at Impulse, fiery hair remaining vertical even as his head tips to the side. “Could he be taking a nap?” 

“You know Zed and his sleep schedule, he wouldn’t interrupt it, even when he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed.” Impulse waves it off. “He probably just isn’t listening, or maybe pulling a prank of his own. Let’s go in.” 

Impulse waves Tango through the gate, careful to keep the sheep, goats, and other farm animals from getting between Tango’s feet and causing his hair to ignite the dry hay in his arms. A horse nips at the bale, but Tango keeps it well away from catching fire. He’s relieved to lighten the load he’s carrying as soon as they're inside the barn. Both mages look to the bed tucked in the corner, but no Zedaph. Tango tosses the haybale aside. “He should be resting.” 

They clamber over the piles of hay, searching every nook and cranny for Zedaph. Even his cookie stash, which they let him believe is still a secret. But Zed is nowhere within the barn he chooses to live in. 

Concern pales both Impulse and Tango’s face, and Tango’s hair reacts in kind to the revelation. “Perhaps he’s being treated by Grian?” 

Tango doesn’t answer, already following the path across the width of the island, from one shore to another. Grian’s floating cloud, the quartz tower with large archways and a glass domed roof. Perfectly built for a sky angel, his wings and speed. Not so perfect for his roommate, and all of Mumbo’s redstone machinery, his own lanky body climbing up onto the solid cloud and stairs to sleeping quarters.

The redstone workshop at the base of the building has been cleaned up, though a few vials seem to have rolled away, as if they were grabbed then subsequently dropped. But, just like the barn, no sign of Mumbo. 

But there is a sound. Echoing from the glass dome, a sniffling, stifling cry escapes from above, followed by a gasping, shuddering breath. Impulse runs up the steps as fast as possible, each bounce from stair to stair accentuated with a tiny explosion to give him more speed. Tango blazes behind, fire burning bright as the sun as energy courses through him. He notices on the way up grey streaks against the pure white quartz. 

“Zedaph?” Impulse breathes, screeching to a full stop. In the center of the room, Mumbo and Zed are huddled close, holding on tight. Their eyes wild with fear, and in Zed’s eyes he can see a shared memory. A shared trauma him, Impulse, and Tango all share. Two hermits, holding onto each other like its their last hope. 

Only two. “Where’s Grian?” 

Mumbo opens his mouth, but a strangled cry only escapes. Tears fall from both their faces, shaking like leaves. Something bad has happened to their friend. Tango slides across the floor, grabbing Zedaph and Mumbo. “What happened? Where’s Grian? Are you hurt?” 

They both shake their heads, but finally Mumbo gathers enough of his voice to speak. It’s weak, broken apart like glass shattering. “He took him.” 

__________________________________________________

A cold, wet air fills Grian’s lungs, biting into his skin like ice on a cold morning. When he tries to open his eyes, the dull ache of his skull becomes sharp, forcing the angel to screw them closed again. Grian grimaces, trying to figure out why he has such a terrible headache. Did he hit his head in training? No, he wouldn’t have been allowed to sleep with the hermits hovering over him. Perhaps he drank too much. Once again, impossible. Grian knows what his hangover is like, and it’s not this. 

He realizes he’s definitely hanging, but not from drinking. Cold, hard metal presses flat against his wrists, suspended over his head. The iron bites into his skin, all his weight rubbing his wrists raw. 

“Good, you’re awake. I was starting to get bored waiting, though I do quite enjoy relishing in finally having my prize thirty years in the making.” The snide, even tempo of Magistrate Dolios’s voice hurts worse than any headache or wrist, and Grian finally manages to open his eyes. The cavern he finds himself in is foreign, not even remotely similar to the brick and iron dungeons where he last woke up in Dolios’s clutches. So long ago, it feels like. The Championship. At the time, he felt like he was at the top of the world. Now? Now he feels like the world was crushing him. 

Grian resists his bindings, but even when he kicks outward, his feet don’t even scrape the dank floor. He tips his head back, until the crown of his head collides with a smooth, hard material. Just at the touch, he can feel the oppressive energy of the crystal. In his vision, he sees the sharp tip of the massive gem. Each wrist is locked tight against the crystal, the nails buried deep in the crystal lattice. 

He looks around, searching for other hermits. For Mumbo, the last face he remembers before…

The memories flood in, cascading alongside the fear and panic. He remembers everything, every terrifying second. Leaving Zedaph to meet with Mumbo, he remembers the scent of marigolds on his hands, just after crushing the petals to make a paste for Zedaph’s burns. The quiet island, most of the other hermits gone. He remembers patting his pocket, the note from his best friend telling him to meet at Iskall’s place. 

But when he arrived, Mumbo was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t unusual, Mumbo tended to get distracted and be late. So he waited, plucking orange petals from his clothes, hair, and hands. He should’ve noticed the way the wind shifted, becoming cold and stale, before disappearing completely. 

He should’ve realized something was very wrong when the grey stormcloud appeared. But he didn’t. He was so focused on waiting for Mumbo, then on getting rid of the flowers in his feathers, that he didn’t see the husks crawl their way free of the ocean. At least, not until the husk of a soldier came barreling for him, empty glowing white eyes and ashen, flaky form charging with halberd drawn.  

Grian squeaked, dodging the attack. Stumbled over the writhing form of a cactus cat, the fading spines still quite sharp, he was saved by a pair of not-grey arms. 

Not grey arms draped in wine red fabric, the hems decorated in gold thread. He realized who it was immediately, and scrambled to try and get away. But Dolios’s magic kept a strong grip, vines of black twisting and tying Grian’s wings to his back, while a hazy fog had grown around them. 

He remembers the feeling of Dolios’s hands in his hair, pulling him to his feet as he struggled and fought against the vines and the fog that filled his mind. Hands clawing at his binds, even biting the magistrate at one point. He remembers the taste of blood, iron on his tongue and Dolios swearing, blasting Grian with magic. 

And the last thing he remembers, before being knocked out and torn away from his home, was Mumbo’s face. Rounding the corner, completely oblivious to the fight occurring. It was at that moment that Grian realized, when his eyes locked with Mumbo’s that it wasn’t him that sent the letter. The confusion, of seeing Grian, the surprise on his face. He was walking towards the infirmary, dropping the box  in his hand upon seeing the sight before him. 

The fear on Mumbo’s face matched Grian’s own, as he was dragged into the sea. A second later, a swift burst of sonic energy knocked him out. 

And now he’s here. Dolios saunters across the room, gathering ingredients and writing down notes. Grian swings his legs, and summons his wings to try and be free. But as soon as the blue and white feathers appear, they crumble into ash. Crushing weight sets in on his head, his shoulders, his lungs, and his magic, and the crystal he’s trapped against hums with power. “You’re quite different from the last angel I hunted. At least you fought back, but in the end they left me without the gift of their magic. This time, I’m not letting anything go to chance.” 

The magistrate sets his bowl of guts aside, approaching the crystal and Grian. His hands are clasped behind his back, shoulders straight and head held high. The weight of the oppressive dark magic doesn’t bother him. Grian’s not ready to give up just yet. He attempts to kick Dolios, but the dark mage stands mere centimeters out of reach. So Grian decides to use his words. “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that?” 

“I’ve been told that once or twice before, yes. But the rest of Lairyon loves me. And why wouldn’t they? I’ve brought prosperity to this kingdom, done more than that stupid rainbow king could ever do, and all of this because of my power.” Dolios sweeps his hands, vapors of dark magic swirling from his fingers as his fingers clench to fists

“Stolen magic. If the citizens knew, they’d hate you just as much as I do.” Grian reels back his head, and does the best he can to annoy Dolios. He spits on him. The glob of spit lands on Dolios’s cheek, the magistrate flinching, then reaching up and wiping it away. A fresh anger in his eyes. 

“And who would believe you? An outcast mercenary orphan? The last of your kind?” Dolios stoops low, plucking a husked feather from the floor. He walks back to the table, mixing the components and ingredients from his jars of death with Grian’s feather. “Your power is rare. Angelic mages are always powerful, a power I crave. You will be a wonderful addition to my collection of magic. The last of the angels to complete my set!” 

A fearful shiver ricochets down Grian’s spine. “You’re going to turn me into a husk?” 

“Oh, gods no!” Dolios laughs, so loud that it echoes off the cavern walls as he throws his head back, brown curls dancing across rich fabric. “I wouldn’t dare waste such magic to become simple energy for me and my beast. No, no. Do not fret, little bird, you will become so much more. I don’t plan to drain your energy. I plan to steal it.” 

The hunger in Dolios’s eyes as he turns, the concoction in his hand, Grian realizes what he's seen all this time in Dolios’s eyes. Hunger. A madman hellbent on taking what he sees as rightfully his.. A predator stalking his prey. And Grian was cornered, pinned. Unable to fight back, unable to fly away. Fear is replaced by terror, a sensation Grian struggles to fight back. He needs to think clearly if he hopes to survive. 

“The last angel died before my powers were…” Grian pauses, seeing the coy smile on Dolios’s face. 

“I always had a-” Dolios pauses, waving his hand nonchalantly before marking the ground around the crystal spires with dark seal. “-fascination with angelic wizards. A dear friend of mine in my youth was one. Ever since then, I knew I had to have that kind of magic in my collection. So strong, each and every one of you. With magic even the ancient ones revered. And now?” 

Dolios steps back, casting his magic circle. Rather than emitting color and light, it absorbs all color to make the pattern of his magic. He raises his hands, and two satellite crystals awaken. Darkness swirls in the lattice of the gems, mist eeking out through pores and filling the cavern with darkness. When the mist reaches the seal surrounding the crystal Grian’s chained to, the spire behind him, pressed against his back, activates. The pressure on his body, his magic becomes unbearable, breaking into pain. Like a harpoon through his chest, the dark magic takes hold. Biting down, biting in. 

And slowly, agonizingly stealing his magic. So intrinsically tied to his soul, hsi lifeforce, it feels as if his very being is being dragged from every inch of his body in contact with the crystal. He writhes to escape the painful magic, but the bonds hold firm and he struggles to catch his breath. Dolios steps back, basking with ravished delight at the scene before him. Enjoying the pain that tears at Grian’s skin, soul, and spell. “Now the magic will soon be mine.”

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft fanfic #light of lairyon #wizard au #wizard hermits #lol #wizard grian #wizard cleo #wizard zedaph #wizard mumbo #grianmc #grian #zombiecleo #zedaph #mumbo jumbo

[staywritten]

Witchful Thinking│Han Jisung

Synopsis: All anyone wanted was to be loved. So what if you had to rely on a love potion to get that. How hard could it be?

Genre: Witch!Au, Clumsy!Witch Reader, fluff, comedy? Banter. mostly fluff, oneshot?

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

You looked out the window, watching your neighboring coven by the river bank. Smiling, cheering, laughing. You envied their togetherness. And here you were being a recluse, as usual, stuck in your kitchen as you worked on a new potion. You’d been stuck on the love potion page for the better half of the week. You were trying to talk yourself into believing that you only wanted to make it because a witch should be well versed in all magic, and had nothing to do with the beautiful man, with the chubbiest cheeks and the brightest smile that entertained the coven..

Peaking back out the window you caught the tail end of his laugh. His whole chest would shake as he playfully hit Changbin. You were sure he was the most beautiful man that could ever exist. Everything about him was so perfect. His soft facial features, his honey voice, those supple lips.

He was perfection…

If only he could be yours…?

He looked toward your window, almost like he felt you staring at him and you practically threw yourself to hide from his gaze.

“Maybe just making the love potion can’t hurt…” you mumbled to yourself.

“Meow” your familiar chimed.

“Oh hush Hyunjin, it’s not like I’m gonna use it on him...that’s immoral.” you crossed your arms over your chest. “Right? It’s immoral.”

“MEOW!”

“Ok, ok I got it…” you huffed and looked around. “But just having it can’t hurt…”

“Meow”

“Hyunjin there’s really no need to be that sassy. I’ll make the potion right this time.” you rolled your eyes “One screw up and you never let me live it down.”

“Meow”

“Ok, so it was more than one. Leave me alone Hyunjin.” you pouted. “It’s not like I wanted that fire to happen. What are the chances of it happening again?” 

It wasn’t that you were a bad witch...per se...It was just hard to read these old arcane spells. Half the time they were backward or involved ancient runes or just straight up in Latin. And it was damn difficult to find some of the ingredients these potions called for without hauling your ass to Jeju for the volcanic ash. And honestly who had the time for that?

You spent the day working on the love potion, stirring absently and adding each ingredient. “Hmmm...rose water…?” you looked around the kitchen and grabbed the vase of lilies and tossed the flowers and water into the pot. “Close enough” you raised a brow looking at the color. “I thought that this would be pinker…you know for a love potion” stroking your chin, you grabbed some gel food coloring from your cabinet and mixed a few drops in the potion. “There! Now it’s looking like a love potion” you beamed, mixing it. “Isn’t it pretty Hyunjin?” you glanced at your cat who was glaring at you. “What? Did you have a better idea?”

“Meow!”

You scoffed. “Ok, Mr. Smarty pants. I’m trying to make the potion right. I just want Jisung to love me…” you pouted looking at the potion and glancing back at your ingredients list. “You don’t know what it’s like to love someone and that person not love you back… You’re lucky you’re just a cat”

“Meow” he purred, brushing his head against your hand. You grinned scratching behind his ear. “At least I’ll always have you Hyunjin”

 You finger scrolled down the textured page of the old spell book. “Hmmm, a stalk of smudging sage… aww, crap. I don’t have any more of that either. Hyunjin do you think rosemary is a good substitute for sage?” You could have sworn you heard a very audible groan from your cat. “O...k…oh- I have some rubbed sage seasoning I was gonna use for a pot roast that’ll be good enough. Oh! I should remember to buy more sage” you grabbed the pen that was stuck in your bun before jotting down sage on your arm, hoping that you remember to look at that while you're in the grocery store.

While stirring your potion all you could think about was Jisung. He was so strong, fiercely loyal and strangely kind. The first time you met him you were panicked since Hyunjin had gotten out and you hadn’t lived in the area very long. He spent hours helping you look for your cat. He’d even gotten some of his coven to help, telling you how much all of their familiars meant to them.

Originally you moved to the area because you heard that there were a few covens in the area. And although you were a coven less witch, it was nice to not be completely alone.

You were never truly alone, not when you had Hyunjin but when he got out you panicked. 

You remembered it like it was yesterday. You were almost in hysterics, wandering the forest.

“Hyunjin! Hyunjin!” you cried out, the rain was starting to fall harder, and finding a black cat in the impossibly dark forest was starting to seem hopeless. “Hyunjin please!”

“Hey...Hey...calm down. We’re gonna find him. I promise.” Jisung grabbed your hand in an attempt to calm you. Looking back at it now, you could tell that he was even scared to be in the forest so late at night. But he was there for you. A complete stranger that he just happened upon. Rather it was the freezing rain or your anxieties he felt the need to protect you.

“You don’t understand-He’s all I have. I don’t have any family I only have-”

“I won’t let you be alone ok? I know you don’t know me...But family is everything to me, alright? We’re gonna find Hyunjin. But we need you to get your head right.”

For the first time in your life, you felt safe and reassured.

You fell so hard, so fast.

It may have been one-sided, it may have been a distant love.

But it was love.

Hearing the front door of your cabin open you turned around and blocked the pot with your body. “I’m not doing anything wrong!” you immediately called out.

“Oh that’s not suspicious” Jisung chuckled, quirking his brow and making his way over to you. “Why didn’t you join us at the river?” A smirk played on his lips. “I saw you watching me.”

“I-I wasn’t…” your voice got smaller as you cleared your voice nervously, from being caught.

“I didn’t want to get in the way...you guys were having fun.” you fiddled with your fingers, holding the ladle.

“We can have fun with you too ya know.” He looked over your shoulder seeing your feeble attempt to block him. “Love potion?” he read the page of your spellbook.

“It’s not what you think!” you frantically waved your hands. “I-”

“Oh? So that’s not for me?” he feigned offense.

“N-No..it’s not.” you pouted avoiding his gaze, tugging on your ring absently.

“You know you’re the worst liar right?” he gripped your waist and lifted you on the counter beside your spellbook.

“Why does it smell like chicken?” he shook his head, turning off the stove.

“Oh Crap...was this my soup pot?” you looked between the two pots you had on the stove. Was it a good idea to work on your chicken soup at the same time as your potion? probably not. Could you have possibly separated half your ingredients into each pot? The chances were higher than you wanted to admit. But as a young independent witch, you had to multi task. How else was dinner supposed to get made?

“Didn’t I tell you no more shortcuts on potions?” he grinned looking at your flustered face, his thumbs rubbing small circles on your sides. Your skin, shivering at his touch. It was so astounding how easily he turned you into mush with such a simple gesture.

“How do you know I took a shortcut?”

“Because the bouquet of lilies I got you are in the pot, and I can clearly see your spell called for rose water and not lilies soaked in water.” he chuckled, brushing his nose against yours, giving you that curte gummy smile. His eyes turning into that charming moon shape when he beamed.

“You sound like Hyunjin...” you rolled your eyes seeing your cat jump from the counter onto the table, before disappearing in the living room. 

“Well he is pretty smart.” he chuckled and brushed his lips against yours. “What do you even need a love potion for?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the hair on his nape. Your lips in a perpetual pout. “I wanted you to love me…”

He sighed. “Oh my god-You’re literally my girlfriend!”

“But what if you get bored of me…” you pouted and huffed.

“You’re insane” he chuckled peppering kisses along your cheek to your neck. “I love you. I’ll never get bored of you.”

“But-”

He silenced you with a kiss, holding your face in his hands. His kiss not letting up until you gave in, responding to each movement of his lips. His teeth teasing your lower lip as his tongue flicked against the top of your mouth, enticing the smallest of whimpers.

You pulled away just slightly to catch your breath, your fingers running through his hair as your face warmed in a way only he could cause. “Jisung...” you looked at him through your lashes, trying to catch your breath. 

“I’m not done” he smirked, biting on your lower lip, teasingly deepening the kiss again. He was relentless and insatiable. Loving at how desperately you gripped at his shirt, how your thighs, tightened around his waist. Knowing damn well that your stomach was coiling as his hands got a little bolder in their travels. He tugged your hair back just slightly, loving how you whined at the loss of his touch. Your face warm, mouth bruised, and lips panting his name. 

It was such a breathtaking moment. From how the golden hour sun, shined through your window to how desperate you looked for him. 

He pressed a kiss at the base of your throat. 

He could never understand your insecurities. You were beautiful, passionate. Hopelessly, hopeful. Everything single thing you did made him fall harder for you. Like how you could never quite get your potions right but you never gave up, or how you just never had paper, so you’d scribble down any idea onto your arm. His favorite little habit was how you always played with your ring on your index finger when you lied.

He could spend a lifetime naming everything he loved about you.

“I’m yours. Do you get that?” He moved your hand over his heart. “Yours.” His forehead pressed against, so close that his breath became yours as he searched your eyes. “If you don’t believe me then just do some binding spell and bind me to you forever...” he grinned.

“Jisung... I can’t” you caressed his chest, moving your hands back up to his face. Cupping the softness of his cheeks as you heard his dazzling brown eyes. They practically sparkled at you. 

“Yes. You can. If it’s my consent you want then it’s yours… It’s always yours... “ He placed a kiss on your ring finger. “If you just need my permission for you to keep loving me and to do whatever spell you want on me then it’s yours. You’re my happy ending.”

You laughed shaking your head. “Well first off I really can’t do a binding spell...because I literally don’t know how, and they’re really hard. Secondly...I wasn’t really planning on using the love potion...I just wanted it just in case you stopped loving me… I just want you to be mine…”

“I already am.” He smirked “If you’re gonna doubt me… Why don’t I just show you how much I love you?” he lifted you off the counter, carrying you into your bedroom. Your carefree laughs, being silenced by his greedy kisses.

End.

A little clumsy!WitchxHan au. I wrote this scenario a few years back for Riverdale lol but I decided to recycle it for Stray Kids since I loved it so much, I kinda want to expand on this universe if anybody was interested?

If you like it let me know :3 Feedback is always welcomed

∘Tags List:  (If you’d like to be added to my permit tag list let me know)

@skzsprinkles @tophuphu @hugs4chan @channieboyo @tonfilm @soobinssmile

#stray kids #stray kids oneshot #stray kids scenario #stray kids oneshots #stray kids imagines #Han #han x reader #han jisung #han jisung scenarios #han jisung scenario #han jisung fanfic #han jisung fuff #jisung fluff #jisung scenario #jisung oneshot #jisung x reader #witch!Au #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fluff #clumsy with au #witchful thinking #domi writes

[tiredassmage]

Character Page 𓆰 Brooke

A character page for what is, at its core, something of another au for my main, Astor, buttt... it’s basically bc one day I had a random bought of inspiration and followed through on “what if I came up with a deer-like race for XIV” and... then I spent like two hours making lore for them and listening to whitetail deer noises on YouTube. So! He’s different enough to warrant his own lil page! ^.^ I will try to cover enough of this theoretical lore that things make sense, but hopefully without going... ridiculously overboard and keeping you here for hours over a race of my own brainworms. xD

BASICS ---

Name: Brooke, technically like the water feature “brook,” but, somewhere along the line, someone thought it was spelled with an ‘e’ like the more common rendition of the name, and he did not have enough of an understanding of the written Eorzean Common Tongue to know the difference.

Age: It’s a little hazy, but approximately 28 summers by Shadowbringers

Nameday: 17th sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon

Race: Dryad

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Martial Status: Single(?)

OC Tags: ch: brooke

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE ---

Hair: Long, falling down about his mid-shoulders when worn loosely and dark brown. Typically worn with at least one braid, and often pulled back in some sort of fashion. Occasionally braids feathers or flowers into it.

Eyes: A pale crystal blue, almost gray. Often wide, curious, and warm.

Height: 5 fulms, 10 ilms, not accounting for a full grown set of antlers.

Build: Lithe, lean, and long in the legs - all traits rather common among his race. As a fully mature adult, Brooke generally grows in a full antler set featuring an average of 4 points that typically form a generally crescent moon-like shape. The typical adult male Dryad will grow anywhere from 4-6 points, while a female will grow 2-4.

Distinguishing Marks: Much of Brooke is rather... distinguishing, given the rarity of his people to the rest of Eorzea. They are generally a reclusive people, living deep within the woods and mountains from the land, migrating occasionally with the season and food supply, but rarely actually leaving. Given such, it wasn’t until prior to the Calamity that Brooke ventured beyond the bounds of his wooded home deep in the Shroud at the behest of his herd that he came into contact with the outside world. Given the antlers and the fluffy ears and tail, most... didn’t exactly greet him with kindness. He was odd and unlike anyone else most had seen. The Calamity has pushed their survivors from their homes and more into the light, but they’re still a relatively unknown factor. Many regarded him initially with the same judgements and mistrust afforded the beast tribes.

Outside of the physical denotations of his race, the only other marks one might occasionally find that could be helpful are the paints he still tries to find some time to don in honor of his kin and ancestors. Life as an adventurer has taken him further and further from his roots, but no further from his respect for their traditions.

PERSONAL ---

Profession: Brooke initially left his herd, sent by their leader, to act as an emissary to the nation of Gridania in the days leading up to the Calamity. While the details of the time after Cartenau are yet fuzzy to him, he had not intended to abandon his post in the Calamity’s wake. In the world that remains, however, he is unable to ascertain whether any of his herd survived. By lucky chance, he has fallen in with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, lending his strength and mixed arcane knowledge to their fight for peace.

Main Job: Brooke and his people are something of an enigma by standard definitions of magical practice. They are gifted in a wide variety of arts, and their semi-nomadic nature has brought them into contact with various remnants of ages past. In Brooke’s case, the closest standard classification may be Red Magic, as he possesses an affinity with a wide variety of skills typically associated with both White and Black Magic, though, unlike the duelists of the Red, Brooke still prefers to focus his energies through a staff or scepter than a blade.

Hobbies: Gathering is more a standard survival skill of his people than a hobby, so he would hesitate to classify his botanical knowledge and pursuits as such. Instead, he would much prefer to count his reading as his favorite one - particularly into history and prevalent folklore and tales. In his role as emissary, he sought understanding between his people and those sharing the Twelveswood with them, even if they had been doing so unwittingly. Thus, it was only natural he needed to seek an understanding of their customs as well as shed some light on his own. He finds the telling of history and belief systems fascinating, marveling at the many differences and nuances to be found within them.

Languages: Though Brooke possesses the Echo, he still struggles with languages, at times. He has steadily grasped a more firm understanding of the Eorzean Common Tongue, but it would not be wrong to say his Echo granted him a better understanding of the language and intentions of creatures, beasts, and elements than any language of man.

Residence: At times, it is still difficult to feel settled among civilization, but his efforts and work with the Scions have afforded him the security of a small residence within the protection of Gridania. At least the more seasoned adventurers aren’t so prone to gawping at his unusual appearance.

Birthplace: His herd lived somewhere deep within the Twelveswood. After the destruction reigned down by Bahamut though, he has found more malms of it unfamiliar to him than ever, and he cannot even be certain they survived - much less that their home may have.

Religion: Dryads believe in something one might call spirts, more than any gods. They revere natural elements such as wind, water, and earth and pay a deep respect to the balance of these things. Taking more than one needs and reckless destruction are considered sacrilegious to them. They host celebrations for each season, each having a representative and associated elemental spirits of focus - the closest one might find to a pantheon of gods in their beliefs. This is something he has held fast to even in the face of their many adventures.

TRAITS ---

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

PERSONALITY ---

Curious, warm, and soft-spoken, Brooke has a quiet love for life that some might find a little naïve. He’s a deeply passionate individual that does not often find a reason to hide the way he feels. He believes strongly in such things as the beauty of a star-dappled sky or a color-changing sunset. He feels strongly about preserving the ways of his people, finding a nostalgic familiarity in them as he uncovers the world beyond the wood. It has been daunting, at times.

But curiosity has kept spurring him forward. Seeing marvels like airships and linkpearls up close are strange, sometimes terrifying, but incredible experiences.

He endeavors to remain honest to himself and true to his beliefs. He does not believe in turning others away over superficial differences. If one is in need, that should be enough. Where they are from or what creed they follow should not restrict them from aid. It might make him something of an idealist, but if it is foolish to believe in and want such things, then he would gladly be a fool. He tries his best to remain willing to learn, and finds joy in understanding and sharing. He’d gladly listen to someone tell stories for hours, if it would make them happy.

ABOUT --

Born and raised with his herd in the secluded depths of the Twelveswood, Brooke thought and new little of the world beyond the wooded reaches of their herd until he was well along to becoming a young adult. In the brewing chaos of looming calamity, their leader bid him go forth to their neighbors of the wood in Gridania in an attempt to reach an understanding and mutual aid. Such levels of destruction would doom them all, regardless, and she bid them not remain idle and wait for the coming darkness.

The troubling times would provide their own draws and setbacks to opening a dialogue with the Gridanians and their Seedseers, but, ultimately, Brooke would succeed in at least opening these discussions, revealing the Dryads’ presence within Eorzea with certainty and agreeing to aid in the developing struggles against the Garlean Empire.

What, exactly, followed is, as many others have described, something of a blur. The only certainty of the matter was that it left the young Dryad stranded alone in a wholly new and twisted realm that was all just... a bit funny. Familiar in ways... Entirely not in others.

He may just have ran afoul of a little cult. Y’know. Nothing major. Definitely not a voidsent interested in aether. Definitely not his. Or... perhaps he did. And perhaps he’s quite lucky he met an adventurer not keen on letting cultists lurk about in underground tombs or let unsuspecting strangers get turned into voidsent treats. Quite lucky, that! But... all’s well that ends well, right..?

With a little to be desired for a solid sense of direction and purpose, Brooke found himself once again woven into a greater tapestry of fate than he could have ever predicted. There were, thankfully, a few... passingly familiar faces along the way, it seemed, but still little in the way of ascertaining the fate of those he had left behind, grown up with.

But there was still their hope - hope for a better future, for a way forward, the dawn of another day they could enjoy and share with their loved ones. That had always been worth fighting for, so fight for it, he would.

#ffxiv ocs #dot talk #character page #character sheet #character profile #bc i'll never remember exactly how i tagged it #and i'll try all 3 of those inevitably #ch: brooke

[sabraeal]

The Lone Wolf Survives, Part 1

Obiyuki AU Bingo A/B/O AU

When Eisetsu first mentioned the Alpha’s Masque, Shirayuki has pictured a grand ballroom, swirling skirts and lithe bodies packed onto the dance floor, deals made over the punch bowl or breathlessly conveyed over a set--

Certainly not...this.

Shirayuki can admit that she has not gone to many soirees-- as few as she could gracefully bow out of while she was at Lilias-- but she’s attended enough to form an expectation. A formal dinner to start, with a seating plan so complex it verges on arcane; dancing to follow, betas patiently waiting by the refreshments for the alphas to claim them for a set.

But this, this-- their coats are swept away the moment they enter the foyer with hardly more than a word. The scent of alpha is thick in the air, deep and musky, and Shirayuki smothers the impulse to cover her nose. A barrage blooms with every breath; barely ten minutes in this manor and already her sense of smell is dulled.

No wonder Zen is so eager to seek her out after state functions; another beta would be a relief right about now.

There is no food save what is passed on trays, and if there is a ballroom she certainly hasn’t found it. Instead, the guests decorate the honeycomb of rooms in groups of two or three, or litter the dim halls, heads bent together, voices rarely raised above a murmur.

A sharp, sweet scent cuts through the fog of alpha musk, and a tray swings into her vision. “Canape, alpha?”

Her hackles raise, every hair on end. Alpha. It’s been ages since she’s heard that, since it’s been more than a joke Obi uses to annoy Zen.

The footman stands still, gaze fixed to the floor, neck bared in submission. Citrus floods her senses, sweet and tempting, and-- and it comes from him. He’s an omega.

“Alpha?”

She blinks, taking in the pile of grayish matter molded atop a pale cracker-- goose liver, probably. They seem to love their organs in the north.

“Ah--” she waves her hands-- “no, thank you.”

His eyes dart to her, brow furrowed, before dropping again. “As you wish, alpha.”

Her teeth grit at the word, but she nods. Another footman passes, just at the mouth of the corridor, and she smell berries, thick and ripe on the vine. Another omega, eyes fixed to the floor and neck curved in submission.

Her heart flutters in her chest as she marches forward, hands wrapping tight around the glossy wood of the gallery’s rail. Below, footmen and maids turn around the room, the tang of fruit and sweetness of pastry heavy in her mouth. Omegas, all of them, submissive and vacant as they pass through a swarm of alphas.

Oh, no, no. She hadn’t thought--

Shirayuki shakes her head. She needs to find Obi. Now.

“Must we keep the windows open?” Rugilia wraps himself tightly in his furs, frowning at the glass. “It may be summer, Shirayuki, but it’s still cold.”

Even with the windows cracked, his scent is thick on the air; a decadent, cloying floral that overpowers Miss’s deeper, earthier tones. Obi’s nose tickles, on tenterhooks for the sneeze to come.

“Obi doesn’t like carriages,” she explains, sending him a faint smile over her stole. “He’s more comfortable if there’s some fresh air.”

“Ah.” Rugilia casts a measuring look over at him. “Motion sick, then?”

A single breath nearly chokes him, as if he swallowed a bag of potpourri. “Something like that.”

His lordship blows a hard breath through his teeth. “Well, you are welcome to ride alongside.”

Obi’s lips spread, teeth bared in a grin. “What sort of guard would I be if I left my mistress alone?”

Rugilia shrinks beneath his furs. “I’m here.”

His mouth twitches at a corner. “You are.”

That earns him a frown. “Sir Obi, do you think I would really--?”

“That perfume.” Miss stares intently out her window, gaze fixed into the distance. “What did Yozumi say about it?”

Obi shares a look with his lordship, one both confused, exasperated, and fond. “What do you mean, Miss?”

“I just want to make sure we’re prepared.” Her lips juts out in a thoughtful pout, right above where her fingers rest. “If our theory is correct, any one of us could be exposed to that drug at the party.”

“But that doesn’t matter, does it?” Rugilia settles back against the bench with an inquisitive tilt to his head. “It only works on alphas.”

Miss nods, absent. “That’s right. But I was thinking...”

His lordship tosses him another glance; a worried one this time. “Yes?”

She bites her lip. “I know that Yozumi said his lover was an alpha, but...”

Obi hums. Trust Miss to be thinking three steps ahead. “Ah, I see.”

Rugilia frowns. “Well, I don’t.”

Miss lets out a distracted sigh. “If we can make a simple perfume to cover our scent, what’s to stop someone else from doing the same?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t say it was simple. It took you and Little Ryuu all day to cook that up.”

“Only a day,” she reminds him, “and if Touka Bergatt is behind all this, surely he has the means to get people just as smart as us.”

“Ah.” He winks. “Impossible.”

The shadow of a smile haunts her lips, but it spooks the moment Rugilia says, “But what would the purpose of that be?”

Obi lifts a brow. “Why did a beta like yourself go to an alpha’s ball for so many years?”

The lord clucks his tongue, scolding. “Why, to find an alpha to--” the words catch in his throat, eyes pulsing wide-- “oh no.”

Miss nods, mouth grim. “Right. Some alphas are born, but others...”

“So you think Yozumi...” His lordship grimaces. “His lover was just...?”

“He’s an alpha,” Miss confirms, jaw tense. “If he chose her as his m--” she hesitates-- “partner, then she would be an alpha as well.”

“To what purpose?” Rugilia asks. “He’s only a knight, not even of the royal circle.”

Miss lets out a long, tense breath. “Maybe just to see that they could.”

That leaves his lordship speechless, staring at her with wide, pale eyes. “Ah,” he huffs, collecting himself. “I still can’t believe that man is an alpha.”

She blinks, head at an inquisitive tilt. “What do you mean?”

“It’s only...” He struggles for the word, then shrugs. “What sort alpha would consent to be beneath another?”

Obi lets out a bitter laugh. “Ah, yes. What alpha indeed?”

“It is impossible to explain to you, Sir Obi.” Rugilia explains with a lofty sigh. “An omega couldn’t understand.”

It hardly takes three turns before Shirayuki is lost. The din of the gallery is long behind her, a murmur just at the edge of her senses. Back here, smoke curls thickly through the air, vying with with alpha for dominance. Truly, she hadn’t known there were so many of them in Clarines, let alone just the North.

She turns a corner and nearly runs headlong into the man idling in it. As it is she stumbles over him, catching herself on the gauntlet on a suit of armor even Mitsuhide would be pressed to fill.

“Ah!” she gasps, righting herself, full skirt caught up in her hands. “I’m so s--”

The remnants of her words fall away as her jaw drops. The man was not lingering alone; oh no, sandwiched between his chest and the wall was a lady, both of them too-- ah-- preoccupied to notice her untimely intrusion.

“Sorry!” she yelps, scampering down the hall as fast as her gown will allow. Which is not very, considering how there are three layers of petticoats at least, not considering the heft of the skirt alone, and--

And so she isn’t quite paying attention when she runs into her next corner-lurking denizen.

“Oh, no!” she sighs, blushing as she bounces off a chest. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking--”

“No need to apologize.” The man’s nostrils flare beneath his mask, and his mouth slants in a smirk. “Alpha.”

Ah, that-- that is not the submissive whimper of the footman, but instead a bold greeting between equals, a proclamation of positions, a--

--the man saunters closer, enough that she can smell the ash and musk of his scent--

A declaration of interest. She skirts back, breath bursting from her as her shoulder brush the wallpaper behind her. “I, ah...”

There’s no way to admit he’s wrong, not when the perfume that wafts from her is woody and deep, the quintessential alpha scent. His fingers pluck the fabric of her skirt between them, mouth widening as he rubs at the silk.

“Not unless you’ve been claimed for the evening,” he rumbles, hedging into her space. “Then I would be most put-out.”

“Ha--aah?” she squeaks, willing herself into the woodwork, wishing that she had some ready excuse to give. “I...I...”

“I’m afraid, my lord...” A gloved hand tugs the skirt from the man’s hand, and with a single, swift pull, she’s buried in brocade and roses. “...That the lady is already spoken for.”

“Eh?” Rugilia blinks owlishly, swinging his head toward Miss. “Shirayuki, I know you are here to help with the perfume problem, but surely you don’t mean to come to the masque yourself.”

Miss squares her shoulders, hands clasped tight beneath the table. “As Obi said, there’s no telling who will be needed when we’re inside. If any of you are drugged, I’d be useless back at the inn.”

Tsuruba clears his throat. “But were you not just saying, Mistress Shirayuki, that this perfume only affects alphas?” He takes in a deep, pointed breath, casting a measured glance over the three of them. “I don’t believe any of us are at risk.”

Obi stitches a grin onto his face. “Ah, but are you so sure, Sir Tsuruba? There are some of us who are mysterious by nature--”

“You especially, Sir Obi,” he deadpans, eyes hooded with annoyance. Still, his mouth twitches, right at the corner. “Out of all of us, an omega is the least likely to rut.”

His mouth slants into a smile, lips parting--

“That’s not the only drug to worry about.” Miss’s teeth sink into her lip, and his nose twitches at the sharp coppery scent of her anxiety. “Lord Eisetsu, you said some of the servants had trouble remembering past masques.”

“Ah!” His lordship blinks. “Yes. I hadn’t-- you don’t think that we could possibly...?”

Obi stretches his legs out long in front of him, grunting as his knees crack. “Touka Bergatt put all the knights of Sereg to sleep with a few candles, do you really think he’d bat an eyelash at drugging a bunch of servants?”

“Haah.” Rugilia’s eyes widen, mouth bowing with dismay. “But I never-- I mean, I could always remember that night.”

He twitches his shoulders, the barest shrug, hardly noticeable when it’s Miss that holds the attention of every man in this room--

But Tsuruba’s eyes shift, slanting to the corners of his eyes, observing Obi with the same sort of graceful calculation that His Majesty is known for.

“I see why you might be worried,” he murmurs, soft voice breaking the stilted silence. His gaze mercifully pulls away, intent on his mistress. “If you won’t stay behind, Mistress Shirayuki, then what do you propose we do?”

“Teams.” There’s a confidence in her that he could have only imagined before, back when she was a beta escaped from Tanbarun’s prince, trying to hold her own amongst the alphas of Wistal, and now--

Now it is second nature to her, speaking in a way that makes these lords-- betas though they were-- lean in, hanging on her words, nodding as she speaks. “We’ll go two by two. Obi and I will be one group, and you and Lord Eisetsu will be the other.”

His lordship stiffens, shoulders raised nearly to his ears, only good breeding keeping the whine from rising up out of his throat. “Shirayuki...”

She blinks, head tilting. “Is there a problem?”

“Can we really...?” His gaze darts to where Tsuruba sits, lips pressed into a thin, white scar across his face. “Ah, never mind.”

“I understand your hesitance, Lord Eisetsu,” Tsuruba begins, stilted, hands crimped in the velvet of his cloak. “I was once my brother’s beta, bound to do his will. I may not be an alpha yet, but...” Air whistles through his teeth. “...but I have already submitted to His Highness, Prince Zen. My brother holds no sway over me. Not anymore.”

“I see.” Obi does not miss the dubious glance Rugilia darts at Miss. “Well, I supposed it’s far too late to be questioning my mate in the nest I’ve made for myself...”

Her savior pulls her away, the kid of his gloves soft against her wrist. She stumbles after him, losing track of the dizzying turns he takes to lead her into an empty hall.

“Lord Eisetsu!” she breathes when they stop, not missing how his eyes dart over her shoulder, even the uncovered portion of his face a mask. “Thank you for--”

“You should be more careful,” he warns her, gaze dropping down to her own. “Not everyone is here for...plotting intrigue.”

“What do you--?” Her mouth clicks shut, remembering the couple embracing in the hall, how Izana had taken so long to pick the perfect alpha bride-- “Ah. Yes. Of...of course.”

A beta would be no prize for a lord, but a born alpha-- well, Eisetsu had attended these parties for a reason, despite his natural inclination.

Her mind churns as she looks at him, his face so foreign beneath his mask while his scent is so familiar. It’s an impossible task to marshal her thoughts, to try to put together what she’s only just begun to know-- the omegas, the candles, the lack of memory but not his-- and she opens her mouth if only to have the ideas out in the air between them, easier to sift through, but--

“Where is Tsuruba?” comes out instead. Eisetsu flinches, eyes darting to the empty space just over her shoulder.

“I...I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m afraid I lost him soon after we left the foyer.” He stares at the empty space beside her. “Isn’t Obi supposed to be with you”

“We were separated.” At least, she assumes so; one minute a footman was taking her cloak, the next she was alone in a sea of alphas, with only her perfume to help her. “I don’t know where he is.”

Eisetsu’s mouth slants into a self-deprecating smile. “I see both of us have been poor partners. Maybe we should--”

“I need to find him.” She grips his arms, holding him fast. “I-- it’s too dangerous for him.”

He laughs; not the rakish one he showed her that first night, but a deeper, smoother sound that’s real. “Shirayuki, I know you must be worried, but of any of us, Obi is the last one who would need rescue.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Her fingers curl into the wool of his coat, so much smoother than Obi’s dress blacks. “The servants, they’re all omegas.”

Eisetsu blinks. “I’m sorry?”“

“You said the servants would hardly remember what happened at the masques, but you, you were fine.” Her breath rasps harshly in her lung. “All the footmen, the maids-- they’re all omegas.”

“W-what? You can’t mean--” he scans the room, wide-eyed, nostrils flared-- “oh. Oh no.”

Shirayuki hopes he cannot feel how her hands tremble where they grip him. “Have you seen him?”

It is strange how with only half a mask, his face had become so foreign, so unreadable. But still, still-- there are ways.

His hands spasm where they cradle her elbows, fingers curling, nails digging into her flesh. His gloves mute her discomfort, but her heart still beats wild in her chest.

“Lord Eisetsu,” she pleads, stepping closer. His saw stiffens; what skin still left exposed turning paler. “Have you seen him?”

“Mistress Shirayuki.”

A hand catches her as she takes her first step down into the gallery, clasping the crook of her elbow. When she turns, it is into pale violet eyes she looks, as serious as he was at the in.

“Lord Tsuruba,” she murmurs, leaning toward him. “Is something--?”

“Take care of him,” he says, short and terse, so unlike his brother. “Keep him safe.”

She blinks. “I’m sorry?”

“Sir Obi.” His gaze is intense this close, his worry far beyond his years. “He thinks he can handle himself, but he’s in more danger than any of us.”

“I--”

His eyes dart over her shoulder, mouth pulling thin. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a companion to keep in my sight.”

“I have. I mean, I just did,” Eisetsu admits, grip loosening. His shoulders round, just the slightest bit, and once again, he’s the hapless lord she knows him as. “Just before I met you, in fact.”

“Where?” she breathes, searching over his shoulder, shifting weight between her feet. “Was he all right?”

His lips press together, white and thin. “I think so? He didn’t say hello, but...nothing out of the ordinary.”

The lords points past her. “Back that way, the second hall to the right.”

“Oh!” She gives his arms one last squeeze before hopping away. “Second...second hall to the right! T-thank you!”

“Ah...” He coughs, a delicate thing into his fist. “No, don’t thank me. Not yet.” The smile he gives her is faint. “Not until you find him.”

She nods. “Right. I will!”

Some of the tension leaves his face, and his smile becomes almost...fond. “Of course you will. Good hunting, Shirayuki.”

#obiyukibingo2020 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #A/B/O au #but like....not a real A/B/O because wolf packs don't work like that #and i refuse to participate is BAD SCIENCE #in here it is an 'inclination' #you have a natural preference....but there are mostly no permanent physiological differences #there are true born alphas #whose mates BECOME alphas since alpha pairs are how non-related wolf packs are actually run #but made-alphas can't make other alphas #and man of the older families like to 'breed true' #hence these sorts of parties

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

Interdimentional Therapy AU?

Interdimensional Therapy AU!!

It is a crossover fic in the works with myself and @laughteronsilverwings and is about our respective versions of Best Jeanist, getting warped into the same dimension and meeting!!

My version of jeanist is referred to as 'e!jeanist' or 'Jean/Wren' and Silver's is referred to as 's!jeanist' or 'Arcane/Arc'. Any comments from me are in bold. Any comments from silver are in italics.

They get to go on an adventure together and the entire thing is at around 40k words now!! While I'm here, here's the next part:

Interdimensional Therapy AU - Part 6

Previous Part || Next Part

CW: mentions of scars, panic attacks,

Starts with s!jeanist's pov and switches with every -

-

Tsunagu blinked. Looked like Jean was also somewhat morally bankrupt. Good on him. They could be in debt to the ‘morality bank’ together. “It’s… decent? I can charm people out of arresting me in French, if that’s what you’re looking for.” He scanned the street for targets- it was nice that the two of them were dressed nicely, people only suspected semi-well-off people to steal money by scamming, not pickpocketing.

“Did your phone die? Like- you have one of those money-payment apps, right?” Tsunagu has one on a burner phone. It was the account of some rich asshole that he’d stolen. Though-

He reaches into his bag to check. Yep. Tsunagu’s phone has no power, though, it’s not as mangled as he expected it to be, after a teleport. Worldleap? Whichever one. The last time he’d been teleported, well… things with fiddly small bits sometimes just. Didn’t work afterwards. “I’ve got a power bank if you need one. What food does the night market have? Uh- is this a legal one, or…?”

He let the question trail off into the air. Mostly, the markets with food were nice and legal. Friendly. The ones without food, though. Those were the quote-unquote ‘black markets’. The ones that operated only a part of the day, then melted into brickwork and air. The markets that didn’t officially exist.

Tsunagu’s also seen hybrids of the two, but honestly those were kinda hard to find. Stall-server food and paranoid criminals did not get along. Sometimes. Most times. 

Oh, that gal looked like she had money. Tsunagu slipped out of the staircase-thing he and Jean were at, stole her wallet and watch -he put the watch back, it wasn’t very good- then took the cash out.

Then he put the wallet back where it was. Tsunagu isn’t an asshole. Most times. 

He goes with the crowd, blending in and ending back where Jean was. The whole thing had taken around a minute. He’s good at this. And Tsunagu’s also had some practice with… liberating things from people generally on a different level of paranoia than the general French public. 

Tsunagu holds up the wad of cash. The girl was probably a tourist of some kind- he’d stolen five hundred euros, that was a lot more than most people would carry with them on a day-to-day basis. “Is this enough? I mean- if it isn’t, then we should go for the tourists. They’re used to being pickpocketed. And it won’t ruin their week, probably.” 

-

“Huh, that was fast! Good job!” Tsunagu congratulated, giving a thumbs up. Okay, maybe congratulating someone for stealing five hundred euros wasn’t the best thing to do- but so what? It was impressive that Arcane had managed it that fast! “You beat me to it!” He joked, to be honest he was ever-so-slightly looking forward to nicking a few things- it had been a while, okay? 

“I’m sure that will be plenty!” He smiled, signalling for them both to start walking and head towards the main street. “Though we can get more if we need to.”

Tsunagu turned around, smiling - though you could only see it through his eyes… barely… the tinted glasses did a good job masking them as well. “Are you ready to get some food?” He laughed, somewhat mischievously.

-

“I was ready ten minutes ago,” Tsunagu snarks back playfully. “Night market, right? Oh- I think I saw a pastries store there… do you like apple-cinnamon muffins? I like them. There’s this place in my world that makes them perfectly, and with vanilla ice cream on top.” 

Beat Jean to it- well, good to know other-him could still pickpocket? His eyes flash at Tsunagu, even though the tinted glasses, and wow he doesn’t think his eyes were ever that attention-inducing. 

His stomach rumbles. “Actually. Do you mind if we, uh, get some real food first? Fried rice? Anything you want to get? We’ve got five hundred here, and we can both always get more. So we don’t need to worry about budget…” Tsunagu trails off, looking at the crowd of people. “Ah- which way was your night market again?” 

- 

Tsunagu laughed, his own stomach yelling at him for food. “Oh definitely. I can smell food from here-” He hadn’t really noticed how hungry he was until this point. “I’ve honestly been kinda craving souvlaki… there was a really nice stall that did them here, if they’re still here.”

“Apple-cinnamon muffins with ice cream, huh? I haven’t tried that yet, but it sounds amazing.”

‘Pastries…’ Tsunagu made a mental note, smiling to himself lightly. ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

“Oh!” He hummed in realisation, just as they were about to get to the more crowded area. “Before we get to the food, I just wanted to check- Can I refer to you as Cane for the time being? Is that okay? It sticks out a little less as a name.” Tsunagu tilted his head in a questioning manner.

-

Cane. Hm- that… worked. “I think, uh, Arc might work better?” Tsunagu shrugged. “It depends. Souvlaki? That’s the tacos with meat, right? The ones with the spices.” 

His mouth watered. “Yeah, let’s go get that. You’re Wren, and I’m Arc-or-Arcane.” They approach the stall and vendor, sticking to the edges. Tsunagu resists picking another pocket. “Which one do you want?” He hurriedly scans the board. Ooh, that one looked good. Fried beef, cabbage, onions, doused with honey and in a skewer. Wrapped in one of those- rollable flatbreads. Tsunagu swallowed the mouthful of saliva. “I’m getting the beef one.” 

Ooh- there was! Milk tea. With grass jelly. And the chewy pearls… ooh, there was a warm option. He’s getting that, too. With extra sugar. “Wren? Do you know what you’re going to order?” 

Tsunagu turns to Jean, who’s looking at the menu, focused. Hm. He’s considering his options, probably.

-

“Arc… got it!” Tsunagu gave a thumbs up.

Ohhh the food smelt so good, he couldn’t help but let out a tiny sigh- god he was hungry. And there was the stall -the pot of gold (food)- right in front of them.

He scanned over the menu, eyes landing directly on the one he wanted. Pork, warm pita bread and tzatziki sauce. Simple, but heavenly. Drinks? ‘Hm…they’ve changed the menu around a bit.’ he internally complained slightly, he wasn’t a fan of changes in layout- but hey, it’s been a couple of years. Hot chocolate with chilli and cinnamon? That sounded good.

“Yep, I got it!” Tsunagu smiled. “Beef? That sounds good. I’m getting the pork one.” He caught the vendors attention and signaled they were ready to order. Oh, French, right- this would be a nice refresh of his language skills. “Hi, can I get… the number three- yeah the pork one with the- yeah.” He placed his order in between the vendors’ slightly-aggressive-looking but well meaning gestures.

“You want the pork souvlaki with pita and tzatziki, yes?” The vendor checked, scribbling down the order.

“Yes, please. And can I get a ‘Chilli and Cinnamon Hot Chocolate’ please?” 

The vendor nodded, scribbling the last bit and gesturing at Arcane.

“Oh-” Tsunagu turned to the smaller figure next to him. “What do you want, Arc?”

-

“The honey-beef wrapped skewer and a warm milk tea with grass jelly, pearls. Extra sweet for the drink, please.” Tsunagu told the server. He wasn’t… quite sure how to, uh, order things. But bluffing had seemed to work before, and if it didn’t, the worst that could happen was him getting poisoned. And that would solve all his problems, so. Yeah. 

“Meal twelve, drizzled with honey, warm, extra sweet for your milk jelly pearl tea, yes?” 

“Yes. Thank you.” The server wrote it down, and passed him a meal ticket. Two meal tickets. 

“Tell your older sibling we don’t bite. They are new to Paris, yes? First time in the night market?” 

Well. It was, aside from the ‘older sibling part’, entirely reversed. Jean had lived in Paris for years. The night market… he was probably a regular? But it worked out. So Tsunagu just went along with it. “I think so? I’m not too sure. He’s been to France before, though.”

“Ah. I can tell- he has a good accent on the vowels. Clean words.” They pat him on the head. “Take care of your older sibling, cheri.”  

He’ll ask, after the waiter goes away. After a few more rounds of pleasantries, they leave. He turns to Jean. “You’ve been here before, right? Is it the disguise?” Tsunagu tacked on, just in case Jean really didn’t want to talk about it.

He’d led them to this place, which indicated he was probably familiar with it. So- unless he’d gone through something that led to a personality change, or he hid behind a mask in Paris, or something like that, you’d think the server would recognize him. 

Or the guy was new. 

-

Ah. Shit. So…

How was he going to explain the whole… kinda-spiralled-and-had-a-meltdown-and-changed-his-entire-self thing he had, well, been going through? That would be a tricky one.

So he simply settled with: “Ah, well I've changed my look a little… I may have cut most of my hair off- for certain reasons…” He trailed off, avoiding eye-contact and playing with his sleeves. He cleared his throat, “Ah- yeah! It’s. It’s the outfits, mhm- uh- yeah- I, uh… I had a very different style back then- haha…” Okay, maybe that was the least convincing Tsunagu had ever been but…

That wasn’t something he wanted to go into. Not right now. The memories were… too there right now. Too fresh. He didn’t want to dump that on a kid he just met… even if he was an alternate version of himself.

Change the subject. How does he change the subject? What does he change the subject to?

-

Okay, well, good to know Jean was both absolute dogshit at lying and traumatized. “Huh,” Tsunagu says instead of all the questions he wants to ask, because he’s not totally heartless. “I guess we both had a style change. I used to dress all formal-like. Now I just do whatever.” Kind of a lie, but also not really. Tsunagu’s more practical these days.  He cocks his head at Jean. “Yeah, it’s probably the… outfit and glasses. Maybe even the boots, they’ve propelled you to too-tall heights.” 

Internally, his mind is working away. Outfit change… a big haircut, change in life. Probably something bad. Mhm. Yeah, this is a topic to touch upon later. His eye catches on a bakery- there. “After we get our food, we can probably go get something at that bakery over there.” He nods at it, and- 

Their numbers are called. “I’ll go get them,” Tsunagu says, slipping off the stool and leaving his bag on the table. Jean would probably take care of it, and this would give him a chance to calm down. 

He went to the vendor, got the tray and the two big paper cups with three skewers in them each, the two drinks on the tray, and paid them the money. Twelve euros. Maybe he should’ve taken less from the tourist, but… naah. 

Tsunagu took the tray, balanced it, and started walking back. 

- 

Tsunagu watched as Arcane walked away and let out a deep sigh, he’d be surprised if Arcane didn’t hear it to be honest.

Well. He most likely gathered that what Tsunagu had said was a massive lie. Well, not entirely, he did have a very different style back then, but still. Tsunagu’s ability to lie on the spot seemed to vanish into thin air- which was surprising, considering he used to do that a lot… it was probably the trauma… yeah…

He pulls Arcane’s bag a little closer and places his hand on it, just to be safe. They weren’t the only ones in Paris who were willing to pickpocket, and were awfully experienced at it too.

Tsunagu sighed. He appreciated how quickly Arcane moved on from the topic, and how he didn’t pry or ask questions. It would probably pop back up at some point and force itself to be known and shared, but for the time being he would happily just move on and eat some food. Arcane had said something but… he didn’t hear what he said. Maybe a little too preoccupied with panic.

He looked down at his hands. Ah. he’d unravelled his sleeves almost all the way to his elbows. ‘Shit shit shit-’ he very rapidly stitched the sleeves back together with his quirk and breathed.

‘Okay, Tsunagu, just focus on the food. The food. Think about how hungry you are, let’s just focus on that, shall we?’ He tried to calm himself down internally. It worked, to a certain degree.

Ah. Arcane was coming back. And with food… oh it smelt so good… Tsunagu’s focus had already been ensnared by the wafts of tasty aromas heading towards him. That was good.

-

Tsunagu slid the tray over. “Thanks for looking after my bag,” He muttered, attention focused on the food and food only. It looks good. He divides the tray neatly in half and drags his cup with the three beef skewers in it closer. And then he takes a bite. 

Flavor explodes in his mouth. Spices mingling but not overshadowing any tastes other than celery. The honey makes it sweet, lingering-at-the-corners-of-your-mouth sweet. Tsunagu thinks he might be in love. 

He blinks. 

The skewer is finished. “Oh, wow,” Tsunagu breathes out. “It’s- how did I miss this in mine? This is. Amazing.” He picks up another skewer and eats it. “Do you think they’ve got cheese sticks?” He wonders out loud.

Tsunagu kinda misses them. A conbini near his house used to sell them. Then the store got demolished by Endeavour. 

He still holds a (small) grudge over that. And to be fair, the guy had paid back all the money the store lost. It was just that the store had decided to move. He took a sip of the boba tea absentmindedly. 

It was good. Not as good as the skewers, but just warm-and-sweet enough for today. And by today, Tsunagu means it’s cold in Paris. So this is a nice change… the pearls are a little bit weird for chewing, though. But otherwise it’s perfect. “How’s your food?” He doesn’t bother looking up. 

-

Tsunagu looked down at the skewers, the warm bread… the sauce- oh it all looked and smelled so good- And the drink was steaming, he could smell the cinnamon and chilli, he couldn’t wait.

One tiny problem, however. He has to remove his mask, in order to get all this amazing food in him- and that meant one thing: lower face reveal for Arcane! That was… honestly, not as nerve wracking after the mini panic attack he’d just had, so he pushed it down and simply accepted that hey- it was going to happen eventually, and at least it’s for good food.

He glanced up at Arcane, who seemed to be very much enjoying his food… okay, maybe that was an understatement- he seemed to really be tearing up those skewers, like… like a very hungry wild animal that has never been fed. Actually. Tsunagu’s not sure if Arcane had actually been chewing the food or whether he'd just… bitten through the entire thing. The skewers. Like, the wooden parts. Tsunagu made a mental note to check that those were still intact later.

Sighing quietly, he pulled off his mask and rubbed his face. No matter how used to wearing the mask he was, it always felt itchy after so long. He folded the black mask and put it into his pocket, not looking up. He wasn’t ready to see another person’s reaction to his face again. Not yet, food could come first.

He picked apart the pork and took small chunks out of the bread, taking his time and very slowly making his way through the skewer. Damn. They were just as good as he remembered. This helped take his mind off of everything- food always helped.

-

Tsunagu had worked his way through his second skewer and looked up at Jean’s silence. Huh. He had long, thin, silver scarring, all across his neck and face. Tsunagu thought of his sides, where Aloys had pinned him down and worked a thin, sharp knife (so sharp that he’d barely felt the cuts at the time) through his sides. 

Jean’s face looked like… someone had just. Taken that same knife and went to town. No method to the madness, just thin lines of scar-silver over his neck and lower face. But hey- Tsunagu’s seen walking skeletons, barely held together by the (not) grace of (a) god. This doesn’t scratch anywhere close to his perception of body horror. 

So he turns his attention back to his food. Hm- Jean’s picking at his. Maybe he’s just a slow eater, though. He picks his beef-honey skewer back up and eyes Jean’s chocolate-drink-thing. Tsunagu’s pretty sure it’s got… chili? In it? And, listen. He’s not a person to judge food choices, but why chili? In hot chocolate? 

Tsunagu flicks a hand and tugs at Jean’s sleeve a little bit. “Does… your hot chocolate taste good?” He eyes it warily, slowing down on his eating a little bit. 

-

Ah. He forgot about the drink for a moment. “Oh!” Tsunagu laughed nervously. “I haven’t tried it yet!”

He picks up the cup, looking at it for a moment. Hm. The cup was red. Nice. Tsunagu likes red.

He takes a sip and coughs on the fumes. There's the chilli and cinnamon- but other than that… It tasted really nice! Warmth that ran immediately down into his core, the sweet hot chocolate, made even sweeter by the cinnamon and with that spiced taste… okay, maybe Tsunagu had a new favourite drink. He would have to try and make this at home- maybe make Kuugo try it. That would be fun.

“Well, it is honestly amazing.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled at Arcane. “Uh. How is yours?”

“It’s good.” Arcane frowns a little bit into his boba. “The pearls are a bit weird, but the jelly is perfect. Are you… sure your drink is good?” He eyed it warily. “I think I smelled chili.” His eyes flicker to Tsunagu’s face.

Tsunagu laughed a little. “Ah yes, it has chilli and cinnamon in it! Maybe it sounds a little strange as a combination, but it works surprisingly well!” He picked at his food some more, wishing it would go in and go down a little faster. “Yours smells lovely! Milk tea is always a good choice. Is your food okay?” Maybe that question didn’t need to be asked, considering it was all almost gone, but he was trying to make conversation to move the awkward atmosphere away.

- 

Tsunagu hums. “It’s good. I don’t know if I have this place in my Paris, I might have to look for it- actually. On second thought, probably not.” He glances at the hot chocolate Jean’s sipping from. He… is still slightly judgemental of this choice. 

He finishes the last of his skewers in a few bites. “I think I saw an ice cream stall over there.” Tsuangu points. “What flavours do you like? I’m pretty sure there’s slushies, too- I’m going to go get them, and then we can continue our ‘question for a question’ thing?” 

Jean hums. “Ice cream! Just a plain mint-choc-chip is good for me! I’m not the biggest fan of slushies.” He pauses, taking a small bite of food. “Sorry, it might take a little while for me to get through this, but sure! We can continue the questions!”

Tsunagu nods. “Don’t worry, take your time. Watch my bag?” He leaves the stool and his bag behind, cash in hand. It takes him a little while to weave through the dense crowd -he has to duck under a few hanging lights- and get to the stall. No line, which was nice.

“Excuse me,” He tells the vendor. She has a pronoun pin on. “One mint chocolate, medium and a double caramel-vanilla, please. Both in cups.” 

She nods and starts rolling the ice-creams into cups. Once she’s done, she slides them over the counter. “Thirteen.” 

Tsunagu hands the money over and walks back. “I’m back,” He tells Jean. “You can go first with the question thing.”  There’s no need to give him even more stress- it’s obvious that Jean really, really, really doesn’t like having his face in the open.

---------------End Part---------------

Hope you enjoy this part- I'll have to remember to post the next bit in a few days perhaps.

We are starting to approach the proper trauma-dumping moments -specifically for e!jeanist in this case- and so living up to the name of the au /lh (I haven't released my jeanist backstory hc into the world yet so this will give you parts of it)

((everything will be tagged accordingly, please let me know if I have missed anything!))

#bnha #eclair wrote something?! #best jeanist #hakamada tsunagu #mha #interdimensional therapy au #anon <3 #here!! #(e!jeanist is fresh out of the trauma oven <3) #can't wait to carry on with this- theres gonna be some good ol twists to look forward to #tw caps #AHEM EXCUSE ME TUMBLR CAN THE 'KEEP READING' PLS STAY WHERE IT IS THANK YOU

[maaaaaatryoshka0325]

Boxer! Changbin AU Part 1

Description: Your boyfriend is a boxer in training and his first match is coming up

Authors note: This is has been sitting in my draft box and I didn’t finish it because I was so focused on Arcane. ;-; It’s going to be two parts though 

Warnings: Smut, fluff

(Part2)

(He so thiccc ;-; I love)

You opened the heavy door to the gym, carrying food and two large water bottles for your boyfriend, Changbin. You heard the thwacking sound of him hitting the punching bag over and over again. Changbin was a rising boxer trainee who was the best put of all of the other trainees. His best friend, Chan, had gotten him into boxing.

You approached him as you saw him bouncing on his feet as he made a few quick jabs at the punching bag. He turned his head when he heard you put down the bag and gave you a tired smile. He was wearing a black tank top that showed off his tone chest, his muscles reflecting with sweat as he turned towards you.

“Hey babe.” He greeted you, kissing your cheek and going for a hug.

“Ew, you’re slimy.” You giggled, scrunching your nose up in fake disgust. 

He gave you a devilish smirk and wrapped his arms around you and you squealed.

“Changbin that’s so gross!” You laughed as you struggled in his arms. 

His strong arms held you in and place and you gave up, dropping your arms to your side and plopping your face into the crook of his sweaty neck. Even though he was a sweaty mess, he still smelled so good.

“Not so gross now, huh?” He asked with a giggle.

You giggled into his neck as he lifted you and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“How’s training going?” You asked.

“Good, Chan said I’m doing a lot better than I was. I’m a lot faster than the other trainees.” He said, kissing your lips softly.

“I’m proud of you Binnie.” You giggled his beloved nickname into his lips.

A big smile stretched across his face as his strong arms held you to him tightly.

“Are you almost finished?” You asked.

“Not quite. I have a lot more practicing to do, but I promise I’ll be home for dinner.” He said, kissing your cheek.

“Okay.” You said, hopping out of his arms and handing him a water bottle.

He grabbed it and took a quick gulp before wiping his mouth and looking at you.

“I hope you’re not mad at me.” He said.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m not. I understand, and I’m proud of you.” You said with a genuine smile.

It was true, you weren’t mad at him or anything. Yeah he wasn’t home as much, but you were proud of him. He had gotten much better and he seemed better.

“Just make sure you’re home for dinner, I’ll make chicken so you can keep bulking up.” You said, lightly hitting his hardened stomach with the back of your hand.

He smiled at you and kissed the side of your head.

“I’ll see you at home love.” He said as he turned back to the punching bag.

You headed into the city to do some shopping, grabbing chicken and eggs to make him some protein for dinner. You walked down the aisles and saw someone familiar.

“Hey Hyunjin.” You said, smiling at the tall boy.

“Hey Y/N.” He greeted back.

Hyunjin was another trainee under Chan, and one of Changbin’s good friends.

“Doing some protein shopping I see?” He asked, eyeing the cart.

“Oh yes, I know he’s been trying to bulk up.” You said.

“Yeah, he should bulk up as much as possible before Chan starts putting him in matches.” Hyunjin said.

“M-Matches?” You asked.

“Yeah, he’s a boxer Y/N.” He giggled.

“I know, I just never thought about matches.” You laughed nervously.

“Don’t be nervous, he’ll make great money and he’s super fast, I think he’ll do great!” Hyunjin said.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You said with a smile.

Hyunjin walked around the store and handed you things with protein for Changbin to drink/eat. He handed you a protein shake mix and gave you a confident nod.

“Works really good and tastes amazing.” He said confidently. 

“Okay.” You giggled.

You heard two girls squeal as they walked over to you and Hyunjin.

“Are you Hwang Hyunjin? The boxer trainee?” One asked.

“I am.” He said with a friendly smile.

“We’ll be rooting for you when you get a match!” The other said.

One turned towards you and stared you right in the eyes.

“Whose she?” She asked.

“A friend, she’s picking up stuff for her boyfriend.” He said.

“Oh, okay. You’re pretty.” She said.

You gave a polite bow and a thank you as they walked away.

“I thought I was going to get my head chewed off.” You laughed.

“Yeah that was scary.” He said, his eyes wide.

“You already have fan girls.” You giggled.

“I know, they’re crazy.” He sighed.

You both paid for your things and he walked you to your car.

“I hope everything goes well with him, see you later Y/N!” He called, wallking to his own car.

You drove home and put away all of the stuff you got and took out the chicken and eggs. You decided to make him chicken breasts and hard boiled eggs. You put the chicken in the oven and put the water on the stove for the eggs and decided to change into something more comfortable. You put on a pair of shorts and a loose tank top. After you finished cooking, you checked the clock and noticed it was a half hour since Changbin was supposed to be home. You sighed and poured two glasses of wine, hoping he’d come home soon. A half hour turned to an hour, and an hour turned to an hour and a half. You sighed and got up, taking the chicken out of the warm oven, where you left it so it wouldn’t get cold. Just as you were about to wrap up dinner, you heard the door open and you turned to see Changbin with his gym bag over his shoulder, panting.

“I’m so sorry babe, I was talking to Chan about something and time just flew by.” He panted.

You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he look, his cheeks pink and his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“It’s okay, I’ll fix you a plate.” You said.

“Okay, I’m gonna get washed up real quick.” He said, dropping his bag in your shared bedroom and rushing into the bathroom.

You fixed up both plates and set them on the table as he came out of the bathroom, drying his hair with the towel as he was shirtless and wearing a pair of shorts.

You smiled as he draped the towel over one of the chairs and kissed your cheek.

“I’m really so sorry baby.” He said.

“Changbin it’s okay, I’m not mad.” You said with a smile as you both sat down and ate.

“You’re really trying to help me bulk up I see.” He said, looking at the food.

“Yeah, Hyunjin was at the store too and showed me some stuff for you to eat and drink.” You said.

He looked up at you, his eyes full of affection and his cheeks full of chicken. He finished his bite and swallowed before reaching his hand across the small table and holding your own.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He asked.

You smiled as you finished your glass of wine and picked up the plates to wash them. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder. You smiled as he grabbed a clean, dry rag and dried the dishes and put them away. He pulled you by your waist and kissed your lips and you giggled.

“I love you so much.” He said, his voice low and full of love.

“I love you too Binnie, so much.” You giggled as he peppered your face in kisses.

“How did a guy like me end up with such a beautiful women like you?” He asked, pecking lips and all around your jaw.

You giggled and you pressed your hands against his muscular chest as he smiled into your skin.

“I have something to tell you.” He said, holding your hands in his own.

“What is it?” You asked.

He sat you up on the counter and stood between your legs as he kissed your cheek.

“Chan wants me to fight in a match next week.” He said.

Your heart dropped and you could tell it showed on your face. His eyes softened a she pressed gentle kisses on your jaw.

“I’ll be okay baby, this is what I was training for, remember?” He asked, looking into your eyes, a pleading look in his eyes.

He knew you supported him 100%, but he also knew you didn’t want him to get hurt.

“I know.” You said softly, your eyes on the ground.

He lifted your chin with his finger and looked into your eyes.

“I’ll be careful baby, I promise.” He said.

You nodded and he pressed his lips into yours. You melted into his kiss as his hands rested on your thighs, slightly gripping them. You gave a low moan when he licked your bottom lip, sticking his tongue into your mouth as you allowed him access. His grip on your thighs tightened as he deepened the kiss, your hands on his muscular chest. His hands traveled to your ass and gave it a squeeze as he pulled away from your lips and attached his lips to your neck. You moaned and pushed your hips towards him, rubbing his hardening length. He gave a low groan and his hands trailed to your thighs and to your throbbing slit, rubbing his fingers over your clothed heat. He pushed your shorts and panties to the side and slid his pointer finger up and down your folds, spreading your wetness.

“So wet and I’ve hardly touched you yet.” He purred into your ear, gently biting your earlobe.

He slipped a finger into your dripping heat as he used his other hand to slide up your loose tank top and pull your bra down. His fingers lightly pinched your nipple as he thrusted his finger in and out of you slowly. You moaned and arched your back into his touch as he smirked into the crook of your neck. He removed his hand from your nipple and bent himself till he was level with your aching heat.

“So wet.” He purred, licking up your slit.

You arched your back and moaned as he pressed soft kisses to your clit and gave it a harsh suck. He purred into your heat as his tongue worked magic on your sensitive bundle. Your fingers went down to tangle themselves in his dark hair. You one leg was bent and resting on the counter and the other was dangling off the edge, his grip on both hard. His tongue swirled around your clit as your back was arched, sinful moans accompanied the slurping noises he was making. He lifted himself away from your clit and kisses your lips roughly, making you taste yourself.

He pressed his tip on your swollen clit and swiped it, stimulating you more. He smirked into your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Please give me more Binnie, I need you.” You whimpered.

He pressed the tip of his length against your entrance and prodded it a few times, earning a whine from you, that was cut off by a moan as he pushed into your and bottomed out in one, swift motion. He groaned into your lips as he pulled himself all the way out and pushed all the way back in, hitting your deepest spots with the position he had you in. His hips thrusted harshly into you and your back was arched in his face, making it easy for him to pull your loose shirt down and take your nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around your erect nipple and pounded into you, your moans filling the kitchen. 

He lifted you up and pushed you on your back onto the table and mercilessly pounded his hips into you, making your moans high pitched s you wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in his dark hair.

“I love you.” He panted, slamming into you and hitting your sweet spot dead on.

“I love you too- oh god right there.” You moaned as he slammed your g spot.

He pulled back and thrusted harshly into the same spot, until your body tensed up and the fire in your stomach exploding, pulling a loud moan from deep within you. He groaned as he felt you tighten around him and his thrusts became for erotic, until he let out a sigh and you felt something warm inside of you. He thrusted into you slowly as he rode out of both of your highs. He leaned forward and pressed loving kisses along your neck and jaw.

“I love you so much baby.” He panted.

“I love you too, so so much.” You breathed as you ran your finger through his sweaty hair. 

He slowly pulled out and lifted you bridal style into his arms and brought you into the room, laying you down on the bed and getting a warm cloth to clean you and himself up. He pulled on a pair of black boxers and got you new underwear and shorts as he slid into the bed beside you. He pulled you against his chest and ran his fingers through your soft hair.

“Are you okay with me doing a match?” He asked.

‘Changbin, I know you’re training to be a boxer and I should’ve expected it coming. Just be careful, okay?” You said, looking into his eyes.

“Okay baby, I will.” He said, holding your cheek and kissing your lips.

You rested your head on his broad chest and felt your eyes go heavy as you fell into a peaceful sleep.

You woke up to Changbin slipping out of the bed and putting on his gym shorts and a sleeveless shirt. 

“Going so early?” You asked.

He turned to look back at you and nodded.

“I need to train more for this match. I’m sorry I woke you up.” He said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll be back later, I love you.” He said, walking out of the room and towards the bathroom to get ready.

“I love you too.” You said softly, watching him walk out of the room.

You sat at the kitchen table, finishing a paper for college/university when Changbin walked in the door. You looked up at him and smiled. His match was in three days, and he’s been training nonstop. You got up and put your paper away and put his dinner down on the table. He took small bites and you tilted your head.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

He looked at you and gave you a small smile.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He said.

You saw past his smile, though. His eyes held dark circles under them and he moved like his body was spent. You got up and rubbed his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

“You need to rest baby, don’t overwork yourself.” You said softly.

He relaxed under your touch and nodded. You took his empty plate and washed it before leading him to the couch. He pulled you into his lap and held you close to him as you both watched a movie, your body over his and your head on his chest. You noticed his breathing slowed you and smiled when you noticed he had fallen asleep, his cheek on you head. You laid down on the couch and pulled him on top of you, his head on your chest.

“I love you so much Binnie.” You whispered, softly running your fingers through his soft hair. 

You looked down at his sleeping face, and felt your heart swell. He was truly the love of your life, and you couldn’t help but feel a little scared about his match.

#ChangBin #seo changbin #changbin smut #CHANGBEANIE #boxer au #stray kids #straykids #stray kids smut #skz #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz smut

[dork-empress]

OC D&D+Star Trek AU, because I am devoted to this Space D&D thing which I don't know how to actually make so I just make up characters for it. This is the Senior staff + Bridge Crew of the Star Ship Avalon! Yes, I stole the bridge design from TNG, shut up.

Characters from top left--right

-----Lieutenant Almin Sparkhands Bitterbottle -- Rank: Chief Engineer of the Starship Avalon

Species -- Gnome

Class -- Artificer

Age -- 51

Gender -- Male

Sexuality -- Polyamorous pansexual

Family -- two wives and a husband, 5 kids (2, 6, 11, 15, 19)

Likes -- lots of amateur craft hobbies, Partying, Gambling

Dislikes -- Short jokes, going out in nature, Charm spells

Items -- a thousand little things he picks up, wrench, family photos

Goals -- Live life to the fullest

Other -- Very cheery family guy with a wild side. Full of good advice, and chaotic solutions. Didn’t always have his life together, but is working on it.

-----Lieutenant Braug Winters -- Rank: Chief Security Officer of the Starship Avalon

Species -- Half orc/half human

Class -- Barbarian path of ancestral guardian

Age -- 29

Gender -- Male

Sexuality -- straight?

Family -- Orc mom, Human dad, 3 older sisters

Likes -- martial arts styles, table games, baby animals

Dislikes -- Studying (not stupid, but hates the judgement), Weird magic, tight spaces

Items -- Electric Axe, Phaser, snacks

Goals -- Overcome a lot of racial stereotypes

Other: Mother was a refugee from Orc wars, but is still proud of her heritage and passed it to her children, even though they were bullied for it.

------Ensign Faeris Gillylocks -- Rank: Communications Officer of the Starship Avalon

Species -- Halfling

Class -- Bard

Age -- 25

Gender -- female

Sexuality -- Hetro Ace

Family -- Mom, Dad, little Sister

Likes -- Cutesy things, music (all kinds), going fast

Dislikes -- Pessimism, mushrooms, cooking

Items -- fidget toys, microphone, language book

Goals -- Meet so many people

Other -- Generally cheery but socially awkward communications officer, knows a lot about linguistica and talking to people but sometimes gets a bit over-share-y. Has queerplatonic partner Edruk

------Doctor Jenwyn Horbek -- Rank: Chief Medical Officer of the Starship Avalon

Species -- Hill Dwarf

Class -- Cleric Knowledge (kinda atheist)

Age -- 146

Gender -- Female

Sexuality -- Aroace

Family -- like 4 Snakes, some flying. And friends.

Likes -- Reptiles, datalogs, comfy things

Dislikes -- touching, uptight clothes, challenges to her authority

Items -- medical scanner, handfuls of pain medication, emergency sewing kit

Goals -- keep these damned kids alive.

Other -- Kind of a loner, but the kind of loner who also aggressively cares for her friends/adopted family. Good friends with Yllallana and her wife, and Almin’s family

------Commander Cade Highmark -- Rank: First Officer of the Starship Avalon

Species -- Human

Class -- Fighter, Defense, Champion

Age -- 35

Gender -- Genderfluid

Sexuality -- Greysexual

Family -- Older sister and younger brother, Father’s passed, but Mother’s on Earth

Likes -- Painting, Sports, spicy food

Dislikes -- Vegetables, Cleaning, cats (allergic)

Items -- Phaser, scanner, Ability Device, Holo Imager.

Goals -- Gain fame and esteem in the federation

Other -- Deaf, a little hot-headed, has accessibility device to read close captions, and translate their hands. Was way more hot-headed as a kid, cooling down as they grow.

------Captain Elror Shinescale-- Rank: Captain of the Starship Avalon.

Species -- Dragonborn

Class -- Paladin of the Stars, Oath of the Ancients

Age -- 52

Gender -- Trans Male

Sexuality -- Pansexual

Family -- Dead Husband, two children, one 9, the other 17, (moved out)

Likes -- Dragon Hot Chocolate, Silk Socks, Binary star systems

Dislikes -- Untidiness, Scary stories, High Pitch Noises

Items -- Scanner, Husband’s scale necklace, child’s drawing, scale polish, Spectacles

Goals -- Save as many people through diplomacy as possible

Other -- Very kindly fatherly sort of guy, with a love of childish things, but also very disciplined.

------Lt. Commander Yllalana -- Rank: Chief Arcane Officer of the Starship Avalon

Species -- High Elf Class -- Wizard Enchantment School Age -- 283 Gender -- Female Sexuality -- Lesbian Family -- Wife, 1 son (72), Mother 634 Likes -- Lofty poetry, performance art, real paper books Dislikes -- working with hands

Reblogging for more

#OC's #Star Trek #D&D