#his colours are not exact but let me be delusional

[bluecounter]

i love that noah has a matching mirage jacket now but after multiple rewatches, i just noticed that noah and mirage are just mirrors of how they first met each other

so in their first scene together, noah is seen wearing a colour block windbreaker while mirage is in his classic blue and silver striped paint

but in their last scene together, it seems that their colours have swapped. noah is wearing a blue and grey striped windbreaker while mirage is essentially a colour blocked car

kinda indicating that they have build such a strong connection together that they’re starting to reflect each other subconsciously, which is a sign of comfort and emotional intimacy when bringing it into the context of a romantic relationship

#also i know mirage’s colour are like that because noah used spare parts #but in a director’s eyes #there was clearly some significance in giving noah a blue and grey striped jacket #so why would that theory not apply the same to mirage #his colours are not exact but let me be delusional #noah diaz #noah x mirage #mirage #miranoah #rise of the beasts #rotb mirage #rotb noah #miroah

[enkas-illusion]

Double Trouble

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Gojo Satoru x f!reader

Rating: SFW

Genre/Theme: Established relationship; non-sorcery au

Content warning: fluff, suggestive, no smut, language.

Summary: Boyfriend!Satoru with a twin and they're exact copies of each other, down to their mannerism so they often switch places just to test how long it takes for you to figure out you're talking to the other one.

Author's Note: The one where he isn’t the only Honoured one. I hope you enjoy this one shot. Thank you for reading! 

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Say Yes by Loco, Punch

Satoru Gojo was everything you could've asked for in a partner. He was kind, funny, intelligent, sexy, and had better emotional maturity than most men despite being somewhat of a nihilist in his own way – perfect was the word to describe him.

The only problem was that he was a bit too much to handle at times, or dare one say, a bit *too many, – meaning his mother gave birth to him and thought ‘he's perfect!’ so she popped another xerox copy 2 minutes later.

And thus were born Satoru and Soichiro, the most identical twins in the history of twins. The two not only shared the same face but had gained quite some notoriety among friends and family for sharing the same brain cell as well. 

While you had no reason to complain about their flawless personalities, they'd taken a liking to mess with you each time they got together. One would think they'd go easy with the pranks if it's someone they love, right? Wrong! It meant the shit you had to endure was way worse than any other normal friend would have to.

On one such instance, Soichiro tagged along with Satoru after work and it wasn't until halfway through dinner that your instinct went off and you figured out it was the twin who was sitting next to you instead of your boyfriend as usual. Later that night, you'd warned Satoru about it, presenting a solid argument even he couldn't resist.

“You know I almost grabbed his thigh under the table tonight!”

“No, you didn't,” Satoru scoffed.

“Okay, maybe not. But it’s highly likely that I could've! Ummm… what if one day you return home and I greet you in some skimpy lingerie but instead of you, it’s your brother who sees me, all titties out???” You were grasping at straws really.

“Will you do that!?” His ears perked up.

“Not the point, Toru…”

“Hmm… okay fine, I won't let it get that far,” he assured you. 

“But you'll still continue to tease me?” You huffed and he nodded his head, smiling innocently. You rolled your eyes at him, complaining about how he was the ‘worst’ while he simply gave you a bear hug and a few kisses to make it up to you.

~~~

So, even after being with Satoru for more than a year, you still did not know how to distinguish between the two. The only people to do so in a split-second were his parents. You had once sat the twins down to compare their faces for any tiny details you might’ve missed but you came up short regardless. 

You could only tell the difference by instinct, after having a conversation with them – maybe you were more delusional than you'd like to admit but to you, Satoru's voice held a lot of love each time he called your name.

In an attempt to distinguish the two, you thought you'd successfully managed to get Satoru to dye his hair black with temporary colour last time you went to their family house, only to find out Soichiro had done the same and was waiting for you, waving his arm at you in the driveway with a victorious grin.

So when you don't find the twin greeting you like a devil inviting you to hell this time, you turn to your boyfriend who's undoing his seatbelt.

“Listen to me, Satoru,” you grab his collar to turn him to look at you as you speak in a serious tone, “Please don't fuck with me this time. One of these days, I might really embarrass myself due to your games.”

“I'm betting on it baby,” he grins as he gives you a quick peck before swiftly making his way out of the car to avoid your scolding. You were going to stay at his parents’ country house for a weekend and you could already tell it was going to be a long weekend.

You sigh as you grab your bag and he opens the door for you before pulling the bag out of your hand and holding his hand out for you. It's impossible to be annoyed at Satoru for long when he pulls shit like this.

When you enter the house, Satoru excuses himself to find his father and you make your way to the backyard garden where you guess his mother might be. You smile to yourself when your guess is right.

“How can I help?” You smile, making his mother turn to look at you. She gently puts the shovel down next to the plants she's depotting.

“Hello dear, you've arrived just in time… would you mind bringing the remaining pots? They’re near the window in the reading room,” she instructs and you nod as you make your way back inside.

You walk the long corridor before you reach your destination, making your way to the window where the pots were placed. You lift two in each hand, holding them with care, trying not to drop them or stain your t-shirt. 

“Need some help?” you hear a voice and turn around to see the other twin at the door. The only reason you can tell it's Soichiro is because he's wearing a grey t-shirt and black sweatpants as opposed to your boyfriend who was wearing a purple hoodie and coal grey pants. 

“Hey Sochi, could you pick the last one?” You motion your head in the direction of the last pot, “Gotta move it to the garden.”

He nods before picking up the pot and walking with you, back to the backyard garden. 

“Did you arrive before us? I didn't see your car in the driveway,” you make conversation along the way.

“My car's out for servicing. I arrived with the mothership yesterday when she was in town shopping,” he explains.

“Hmm…” you nod as you stop near the area where the soil has been rooted out of the ground, “here.” 

You motion to him to keep the pot down and he obeys as he leans down to place them there gently. You're busy looking around to find Mrs. Gojo when you hear him speak, “Anything else, princes–”

Your eyes widen as your head snaps back to look at him.

“SATORU!” you gasp at the nickname that accidentally slips out of your boyfriend's name, making you realise it's not his twin.

“Soichiro! Leave my poor girl alone,” the other blondie walks out wearing the exact same clothes. You look between the two as you stare in disbelief, not being able to tell who's who.

You're about to speak when you hear their mom's voice as she moves closer to you, pressing an arm gently around your shoulder, “Satoru… I'd expect you of all people to be nice to her,” shaking her head at the twin standing next to you.

You were right! The twin next to you is Satoru!

“No, it's okay! The best way to deal with them is to avoid both of them the entire weekend,” you give your boyfriend the fakest smile you can muster up as you walk hand in hand with his mother to fulfil your gardening duties.

As it's the only exact identical matching outfit the twins have, they don't mind wearing it all weekend. As the day progresses, you find yourself working your brain full time to notice any difference you can find, but the guys are relentless to the point where even their sleeves are rolled to the exact same length.

And of course, the whole day is spent the way you’d dreaded and almost predicted it’d be like. Later when you’re out on the porch having coffee and watching the sunset with your boyfriend, you notice Satoru has an insect bite on the side of his wrist.

“Toru?” you question, wanting to make sure you have the right twin next to you.

“Hmm?” he peels his eyes away from the pretty sunset to look at you. 

“Kiss me?” you ask softly.

“Wha– is this a test?” He raises an eyebrow.

“You know what, nevermind… I just felt like it cause this is the first time we’ve been alone all d–” your words are cut off by his lips capturing yours. You smile into the kiss as Satoru cups your face, caressing your cheek.

Satoru check completed! You make a mental note to observe his wrist for the mark each time you interact with the twins.

After dinner when everyone's lazing around in the living room and watching whatever reality tv show is playing in the background, you excuse yourself to go to the washroom. Roaming around, you end up in Satoru's old bedroom. It's endearing seeing how you can still find pieces of his current personality, likes, hobbies and interests in bits, plastered everywhere around his room.

You find yourself craving some alone time with your boyfriend all of a sudden so you pull your phone out to text him to come up to his room. You only have to wait a few minutes before you hear a knock on the door.

“It's open,” you say as you place the book that you were holding back on the shelf. With a big grin, you extend your arm out to him and he takes it.

“Hello, darling,” he says in a playful tone and your eyes briefly glance at his wrist. No mark. It's Soichiro. He pulls you into a hug and pats your head.

Fine. If your boyfriend still wants to mess with you even when you’re needy for him, he's gonna get his payback. You decide at that moment – this switcharoo bullshit stops today.

You smile innocently at Soichiro as you pull away, your hands travel up to his chest to push him back till he falls on the bed.

You hop on top of him to straddle him but are careful enough to not actually make any sort of inappropriate contact, hovering above without closing the gap between your bodies. You simply wanted to push him enough to get him uncomfortable and to confess.

You can see the nervousness on his face as he clears his throat to come up with an excuse to get out of this situation without making it awkward, “T-the door’s open, let me–”

“It’s just us Toru… I doubt anyone’s gonna bother coming up to find us anyway,” you purr as you lean your body forward, placing your palms on the sides of his head to support your weight. You start feeling anxious too, you need him to break soon or you’d have to abandon the act, so you persist and whisper in his ear, “You look so sexy, I’ve been wanting to feel you inside me all day, Satoru.”

You cringe internally at your own words. But in that moment, you can see his face get paler than it usually is and you want to laugh at how nervous he looks when he hits his limit at your lewd comments.

“Wait, I’m no–” Soichiro pushes you by the shoulders as he begins in panic, another voice interrupts, pushing the half-open door forcefully, “Baby, wait!”

You feel a large arm hook around your waist to pull you away. As you stumble to your feet, breaking free from his hold, you turn around to see an annoyed Satoru, knitting his eyebrows as he looks at you. He looks more annoyed at himself than at you.

“Satoru?” you question as you bring up a hand to his cheek.

“Yes, baby?” he asks in that loving tone you’re so used to as he wraps his arms around your waist tighter.

You smile as you caress his cheek, trying hard to hold in your laughter, “What… A… Dumbass!”

You burst out laughing as you break free from his embrace and he stares at you in disbelief. You look from him to Soichiro, who’s already stood up from the bed as you hold your stomach, hurting from laughing so much, “That should teach you both!”

“Well then, I’m gonna go watch tv with the only two sensible people in this house,” you wave the baffled twins goodbye and turn around to leave the room. The very next second, you’re taken by surprise when you feel a hand grab your wrist to keep you from moving.

You turn around to see that your boyfriend seems… mad at you?

“Sochi, do you mind? I wanna talk to her alone,” Satoru motions his brother to leave the room.

“Yikes, just keep it quiet,” the twin chuckles in embarrassment as he walks out hastily. You hear the door close behind you before footsteps recede down the hallway.

You look at Satoru, expecting him to speak up. But your boyfriend simply grabs both of your wrists before twisting them behind your back and closes the distance between your bodies.

“Waitttt… is this Toru or Sochi? It is impossible to tell!” your words are dry and sarcastic as you giggle at him.

“Baby, I don’t think you’re in a position to be laughing at me right now,” he towers over you, his grip on your waists tightening.

“But here we are! I told you not to mess with me,” you chuckle as you try to wriggle your wrists out of his grip.

“And I’ve warned you not to press my buttons… or do I need to remind you again?” he grunts as he flips you around, walking you to the bed till your knees hit the edge of the bed, making you stumble on the mattress with him behind you. He brings a hand to the back of your head to press your face down into the mattress and you take this opportunity to try to hold him. He tsks at your movement before moving away from your completely.

You flip your body around to lie on your back and see what’s going on, only to find him rummaging through his closet. When Satoru turns around to walk back towards the bed, you notice two ties in his hands. 

This isn’t how you’d expected your little prank to turn out but you definitely weren’t complaining. However, just as Satoru straddles you, grabbing your wrists, his phone buzzes in his pocket.

“What?” he groans into the speaker.

“Mum’s calling you both downstairs,” you hear Soichiro’s voice on the other end.

You press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing as Satoru groans once again before cutting the call with a ‘be right there’.

“I think god sent a guardian angel disguised as your mom for me,” you chuckle as you sit up, making your way out from under him.

“You’re lucky,” Satoru grabs your jaw, “but don’t get ahead of yourself, guardian angel can't save you past her bedtime.”

You poke your tongue out to tease him, breaking free and springing out of the bed, mumbling a ‘whatever’, walking out towards the living room. 

As you make your way back down the hall, you hear your boyfriend’s footsteps behind you. You smile to yourself as you begin to brew different ideas of riling him up further throughout the night.

~fin~

#jjk x you #erensbirdie #jjk x reader #jujutsukaisen x reader #jjk #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu gojo

[theemporium]

[1.5k] maybe being dragged out to the western bar downtown wasn’t all that bad when you have a pretty cowboy waiting for you to step on his toes.

.

You didn’t get much of a choice in the matter. 

And if you had, it would definitely not be spending Valentine’s Day in some random bar in downtown New York with all your friends, drinking fruity cocktails with themed names and pretending that you are all here for the exact same reason. 

Because you appreciated the sentiment and you knew they only meant well, but a girls’ night out on Valentine’s Day lost its solidarity when all the others were either in a relationship, talking to someone or happily married. Skipping out on one Valentine’s Day to spend it with their lonely friend made it feel more like a pity party convention rather than a fun night on the town. 

Not that you said that to them, and not that they would let you believe it if you did say it out loud. And maybe you really were just being dramatic, maybe you should have just enjoyed a night out being all dolled up and pretty because truthfully you couldn’t remember the last time you forgoed sweatpants on a night you usually had no plans for. 

But here you were, in a dress that was hidden in the back of your closet and heels that were already making you regret your choices for the night, and you pretended the drink you were sipping on didn’t cost an extortionate amount as you sat on the high chair, looking around the bar with curious eyes. 

You had never heard of the place considering it was on the opposite side of town from your apartment, but the place intrigued you. For the last two weeks, the whole city of New York had been buzzing with themed decorations, coloured hearts stuck to anything you could see and so much red and pink that it made you feel a bit overwhelmed.

But sat in this bar, there wasn’t a single heart or rose or balloon to be seen. 

Instead, the interior was something inspired by some old western movie with the saloon doors at every opportunity, wooden furniture and the smell of peanuts and whiskey being so strong yet so comforting. The speakers set up across the establishment played out old country songs that you didn’t even know the words to, but your eyes were always drawn back to the big space in the centre of the bar where strangers all stood, laughing and dancing away like some deleted scene from Footloose. 

It was mesmerising to see the way they all moved in sync, the way they knew the next step and the way they laughed and joked with one another as song after song played. As they exchanged beers and knocked shoulders like old friends when there was a high chance they were strangers to each other too. It made the bar almost feel…homely. 

“See someone you like?” your friend’s teasing voice slurred from beside you. 

You rolled your eyes as you turned back around to face the group. “I was just watching.” 

“I thought you’d like this place,” she hummed softly and smiled. “Plus, you’re always watching that dance movie with Miles Teller, thought you could find your own line-dancing hunk.” 

You couldn’t help but snort. “So you brought me here so I could have a Footloose moment?” 

Your friend’s grin widened. “Yep!” 

“You’re delusional,” you said with a shake of your head before you slid off your chair, subconsciously tugging on the end of your dress. “I’m gonna grab another drink, be right back.”

You manoeuvred yourself through the throng of drinkers and dancers as you made your way towards the bar, elbows leaning on the slightly sticky surface as you tried to signal down a bartender but the place was bustling and you could barely hear yourself think down here. 

You let out a sigh, turning to face the dancers once again as you decided to wait for the bartenders to get through some of the other orders before making your own. You watched as the people danced, stepping and sliding and doing all sorts as they stomped around the open space. You hardly even noticed the song coming to an end and a voice booming through the speakers. 

“Howdy cowboys, saddle up and grab a partner for a lil Valentine’s lovin’ dance!” 

You chuckled to yourself as the awful southern accent imitation echoed through the speakers before you watched people run around to grab their partners and tug them onto the dance floor. You were so lost in the moment that you didn’t even notice the man approaching you until the warmth of his body was pressed against your side. 

“Can I have this dance, pretty lady?” 

You lifted your head to look at him, finding yourself a little speechless when you did. 

Your first thought was that this man was fucking gorgeous, that kind of pretty face that you see in movies or magazines. Your eyes drank up every single one of his features, unable to just pinpoint which one made your heart feel like it was racing in your chest. Maybe it was just a combination of all of them: the dark curly hair poking out of the cowboy hat, the soft stumble on his jaw and chin, the slant of his nose that you kinda just wanted to kiss up and down or the soft-looking lips that were pulled up into a mischievous smile, like he knew every damn thought that was running through your head right now. 

“What?” you finally spluttered out when you realised you had been doing nothing but ogling the man in front of you. 

“A dance?” he offered again and nodded towards the dance floor where everyone was getting themselves situated. 

“Oh, I can’t…dance,” you answered lamely, cheeks flushing pink in response as you looked between the pretty boy and the dancefloor. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he drawled and grinned down at you, the Australian accent much clearer in his voice despite the southern twang he tried to add to his words. “I’ve got you.” 

Before you could even dispute or turn down his offer, his hand was linked with yours and he was already pulling you towards the other dancers with something quite like a challenge glimmering in his eyes. Even if you wanted to, you didn’t think you could pull away from him, you didn’t think your body was capable of that. Plus, you were intrigued to see how this went. 

“You’re gonna make a fool of yourself dancing with me,” you told him as you stopped in a free space, looking up at the pretty stranger with a sheepish smile. 

“Then I guess we’ll be fools together, sweetheart,” he grinned back like that idea didn’t bother him at all.

“I’m sure there are people with much more experience who you could dance with,” you said with a smile because it was kind of hard not to smile back at him. 

“Yeah, but none of them are the prettiest girl in the bar, are they?” he retorted, almost quite smug as the pink hue on your cheeks darkened. 

“Do I at least get a name?” 

“Daniel.” 

“Well, I’m sorry in advance to your toes, Daniel.” 

When the music started, the dance was just as successful as you warned him it would be. You didn’t know the moves and Daniel could only help you so far before you were stumbling into other couples, apologising profusely before hiding your face against his shoulder as laughs racked through your body. 

“So, what brings you in here tonight?” Daniel asked over the music, his hand in yours as he twirled you around before pulling you closer to him once again. “Cause I have a small hunch this isn’t your usual shindig.” 

“My friends dragged me out,” you said with a shrug, letting out a small squeal when the boy dipped you, his loud laugh warming something in the depths of your stomach.

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Galentine’s?” 

“Something like that,” you murmured, your hands gripping his shoulders as he stared down at you. Pretty boys like him didn’t talk to girls like you, and yet there he stood, looking down at you like you were the only girl in this damn bar. 

“Think your friends will be annoyed if I hog you for a little longer?” Daniel asked, something quite like hope glimmering in his eyes. 

“I think they can cope,” you replied with a smile, not quite ready to let your night with the gorgeous man stop just now. There was a buzz, a feeling you thought died when you were twenty-something and realising the world wasn’t as perfect as you thought it was. A buzz that you only ever assumed existed in books and movies. 

You didn’t wanna let go of that buzz, you didn’t want it to disappear. 

“Well then, sweetheart, you know the saying,” he spoke up, the southern accent thick and heavy as he pulled you towards him and plopped his hat on your head. 

You raised your brows in amusement. “And what’s that?” 

Daniel broke out into a grin. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

.

#daniel ricciardo #f1 #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

Our perfect day.

I'm not too proud of this one, but hope you enjoy regardless :)

Warning(s): delusional yandere Riddle

Riddle Rosehearts was a perfectionist. Absolutely everything had to be perfect, and if any poor student happened to break a rule of the Queen of Hearts, it was off with their head.

Now of course Riddle didn't actually execute people for breaking a single rule, that would be rather extreme. Though, according to the students who have had Off With Your Head cast upon them, it definitely feels that way...

You received a letter today.

"Dearest (Y/N), please attend tonight's special Heartslabyul tea party. I will be waiting for you. Yours truly, Riddle Rosehearts."

You couldn't help but wonder what made this tea party 'special' compared to the other tea parties they host.

You entered the mirror that led to the Heartslabyul dorm. A fancy looking garden awaited you, as well as a large mansion. You stepped forward and-

"Hiya (Y/N)~!"

"Oh! Um... hey, Cater!" You said, a bit surprised. "Could I, uh... could I get past you?"

"No no no! Not yet, the party isn't ready yet!" Cater insisted. "All the Heartslabyul students are working their you-know-whats off making sure this extra special party is perfect. I mean, I have so much to do I'm using Split Card right now!"

"Oh."

"Cay-Cay numbers 1, 2, and 4 are busy painting the roses with the freshmen. I was told to take you to your fitting!"

"Fitting?"

"Oh yes (Y/N), ya gotta wear proper attire to a formal event, don't you know?"

Cater number 3 grabbed your hand and led you back into the magic mirror, bringing you back to the hall of mirrors, then bringing you to the mirror that leads to Pomefiore.

"Ah, (Y/N). How are you doing today?" Vil greeted you. "Your outfit is complete, I just need to see how it fits on you."

The outfit Vil spoke of looked like something you would wear to a wedding, though resembling the dorm uniform of Heartslabyul. Checkerboard sleeves, white rose pins that looked like the had just been painted red, the torso was adorned with playing cards, the colours were red and white split down the middle... and a crown, with a thin shroud meant to cover your face.

You couldn't help but wonder, why do I need such a fancy outfit for a tea party?

To your surprise, the outfit fit perfectly. You don't remember having any measurements done...

"It seems Riddle was correct." Vil said, also sounding slightly surprised. "These are your measurements exactly."

"Riddle... knew my measurements?" You asked.

"Yes, down to the exact centimeter. You two must be closer than I thought..." Vil said, sitting you down in a chair. "Now stay still, I need to do your makeup."

"Riddle said he wanted it to be like our dorm makeup!" Cater explained. "Red eyeshadow and lotsa hearts!"

"Wait, what do you mean we're closer than you thought?" You asked.

"(Y/N), no speaking or moving please, I don't want to mess this up."

Once your makeup was finished, Cater took a selfie with you.

"#nofilterz #happycouple #NRCwedding #QueenofHeartsstylewedding #younglove... and posted! Me gave me his phone and told me to get a good pic of you for Magicam." Cater explained. "And now that you're in those fancy-shmancy clothes, let's get heading back to Heartslabyul, I'm pretty sure the party's all ready~!"

"Wedding?" You asked. "Cater, what do you mean, wedding?!"

"Ah dammit... I ruined the surprise, didn't I? Don't tell anyone I told you this, please, but..." He paused. "The special tea party is actually a wedding! Riddle wanted it to be a romantic surprise so badly, but I just had to mess things up..."

"A wedding... for me and Riddle?" You asked. "No, that's impossible, Riddle and I barely know each other!"

"Huh? Nah, that can't be right, you two've been dating for months!"

You tried telling Cater in every way you could that you and Riddle almost never speak to each other, but he kept insisting that you and Riddle have been dating since some time after he Overblotted.

You were brought to Heartslabyul, which had a student-made wedding venue set up just outside the rose maze. Riddle was wearing a suit that matched your outfit. You would have appreciated the effort that went into this, if not for the fact that you were horrified that Riddle decided to organize a wedding for him and someone he barely speaks to.

"Ah, (Y/N). You look beautiful." Riddle told you, pushing your hair behind your ear. "I managed to organize our wedding, and follow the Queen of hearts rules!"

"Riddle, what the Hell is this?!"

"It's our wedding, (Y/N). What's there not to understand?"

"We don't know each other!" You exclaimed. "We barely talk, and sure, we know each other, but not this well!"

"What do you mean, (Y/N)? We've been dating for months, haven't we?"

"No, we haven't! What makes you think we have?!"

"I-isn't it obvious? Don't you remember all the dates we've had together?"

"We've studied together, but I've never once gone on a date with you Riddle!"

"(Y/N). I made sure everything was perfect, why are you denying this?" Riddle asked. "And why are you insisting we aren't in love? I think I'd know if we weren't."

"Riddle, we-"

"Shh, (Y/N). No more speaking, please. I made sure every single aspect of this was perfect. Today is our perfect day."

...

How did he even get permission to do this?!

#riddle rosehearts #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere riddle

[articfoxxxxsstuff]

Hi guys! Finally the month of October is upon us and I know that plenty of authors will be taking the opportunity to churn out brilliant masterpieces for Kinktober if you know what I mean ;). As for me, I was doused with sudden inspiration to write an 'isekai'(time travel-ish)/dark soulmate fic, overflowing with angst featuring our beloved Rengoku and reader. Please turn your eyes away if you're not comfortable with the reader physically hurting herself (Only happens twice with valid reasons). The fic ended up turning a bit darker than I intended to. However do enjoy and drop a message!

With love,

Articfoxxxx

Title: Tell me that you're mine

Pairing: Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

One shot (7662 words)

Warning: Extreme Angst, physical and emotional pain, self inflicted wounds, blood, possessive/delusional Kyojuro, toxic relationships

Masterpiece blessed by @nana.yin.nana

A bit of extra information for those who are not familiar with the soulmate universe: In this story, the concept of soulmates exist in the form of tattoos. The names of their other half will appear on the exact body part as their soulmates.

If there was hope before, it was now just a tiny flicker against the raging storm called fate. With the open arms of a bright-eyed young child, she reached out, her fingers extending as far as she could to grasp the dying flame before it was fully extinguished.

"I apologise (your name) but I'm afraid I can't return your feelings." The Flame Hashira's unusually low voice reverberated through the quiet atmosphere.

"I see." (Your name) replied in a cracked voice while looking down on the grassy patch under her feet. At first, it felt like a million needles prickling deeply into her skin, drawing out all the blood from her flesh. Gradually she felt her entire body growing numb to the pain and everything else suddenly didn't matter anymore.

The normally clear outlines of people passing by eventually changed to form foggy black and white shapes that dissolved into the dull background.

The light-hearted sounds of the children laughing nearby at the playground faded into nothing but a quiet stillness.

Kyojuro's ember eyes flickered with pity as he watched the (coloured) hair woman in front of him struggling to keep herself together. He shakily reached out to touch her, a weak effort to console her but she skillfully avoided him by taking a step back. She didn't need his compassion for it was because of his kindness she had confused for love. How foolish.

"Why did you treat me like a lover then?" Her chin trembled as she demanded an answer in a much louder voice. A few droplets of tears welled up and escaped her beautiful (colour) eyes as she tried to wipe them away, failing miserably while doing so.

"I sincerely apologise for leading you on." His voice was laden with guilt, the same way his responsibilities as a demon slayer weighed down heavily upon his shoulders like a pile of immovable bricks. The golden-haired swordsman looked away uncomfortably as his face turned bright red. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't aware of the girl's growing affections for him, but he just couldn't promise her anything. He didn't have time for a relationship or a family. The world, the people and the demon corps needed him more than she did. She also wasn't his to begin with.

"Leave." She whispered burying her face into her palms. "Just... leave." Her voice growing softer like a hushed whisper.

The man reluctantly left without sparing the woman another glance.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

(Your name) turned to face the dark sky as the pitter patter of rain drops gently danced around her. Instead of avoiding the rain like any other normal person, she simply closed her eyes and just let the heavy beads of rain roll down her fragile body soaking up her crimson red kimono. Drop by drop the beads of water gently caressed her face, doing little to wash away her tears and filling in the cracks of her broken heart. She had finally gotten her answer.

Ever since that day (your name) began smiling a little less, especially in front of the flame Hashira, Rengoku Kyojuro. Whenever he was in the room, she would keep a respectful distance between them preferring the company of other quieter pillars. The woman would unfailingly place herself between the quiet Water and Snake Hashira both whose calm presence had often always greatly put her at ease.

It went without saying that everyone noticed that (Your name)'s eyes would often lose their usual focus during times when the flame Hashira's name was brought up. It then became an unofficial silent agreement between everyone to not mention about Rengoku's name in (your name)'s presence outside meetings from that day onwards. The young lady also stopped having conversions with the younger slayers, something she would often do in the past. Fortunately for her, her suddenly turned cold actions didn't deter them the slightest. If anything, it only made them seek her out even more to check on her wellbeing.

The flame pillar's rejection had left quite an impact on (your name). Unlike what she used to do in the past, she went out less and interacted only when required for example during monthly health checkups with the insect pillar. The gentle violet haired swordswoman would always find (your name) sitting in her clinic with a far-off look on her face. It was so obvious that the (colour) haired girl had been crying the night before but Kocho knew better than to ask about it.

"(Your name)?"

"Oh Kocho-san. Sorry I was just lost in thought." A strained smile found its way on the girl's face as she tried to stay focused.

The insect pillar watched her friend with a worried expression on her face while checking the girl's temperature.

'There she goes again.'

Staring into space had also become one of the (your name)'s bad habits as of late.

"(Your name) how are you feeling today?" The violet haired Hashira asked in a polite tone.

"I'm alright." (Your name) would always reply the same thing, always sounding as though she had something caught in her throat.

"Please take care of yourself."

"Thank you Kocho-san."

It did take some time for (your name) to grow accustomed to participating in monthly meetings with the Master and the other pillars but she eventually got used to it. The previous meetings held between Oyakata-sama and the 9 Hashiras which were previously a joyous occasion had now unfortunately turned into a dreaded event. (Your name) however fully understood her duty. As someone who had arrived in this era from the future, her service to humanity was to help prevent more unnecessary deaths with the knowledge that she had about this world.

She still remembered the day she first arrived in the world of 'Kimetsu no Yaiba'. It was on the day Rengoku Kyojuro was destined to die.

Flashback

The shrill sound of a train whistle caused (your name) to awake with a startled jump. The (insert age) year old girl let out a surprised gasp when she landed ungracefully on the hard brick floor of what seemed to be a bustling old train station.

'That's weird. Am I still dreaming?' She wondered aloud to herself as she watched countless passengers busily getting on and off the train compartments with their heavy luggages.

"Excuse me-" The disoriented girl was rudely cut off by what appeared to be a police officer.

"Stop thief!" The officer yelled and ran past her to chase after a disappearing shadow leaving the girl dumbstruck. She narrowed her eyes in disbelief at the ridiculous scene and decided to analyse her surroundings first before opening her mouth to ask for help.

This was definitely not 'home'. The girl deduced while taking note of the passengers' clothing and the old infrastructure of the train station. Despite having electricity, there were no electronic ticket booths and touch-screen maps that could tell her her exact location. She then decided to walk to the entrance to look for the train schedule. On her way to the entrance of the station, she couldn't help but notice multiple glowing spheres of red Japanese lanterns ominously illuminating the dark area sending feelings of unease up (your name)'s spine. She couldn't explain why she was suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Tonight, just felt off.

Luckily for her, everyone seemed to be in too much of a hurry to pay attention to a lost child in unusual clothing. At this point, fear was beginning to seep into (Your name)'s bloodstream as the adrenaline of being sent to another world slowly subsided. What was she supposed to do now? The poor girl sunk down to the floor in despair and hugged her trembling knees.

"Miss? Are you alright?" A bright voice piped up from the darkness.

(Your name) slowly blinked her eyes open to see a figure of a man with a gentle smile on his face standing right in front of her.

He was like the sun.

His glowing sunset hues were filled with genuine concern as he extended his hand out to help the (colour) haired girl up.

"Rengoku Kyojuro! It's you! You're still alive! Thank God!" Tears began welling up in (your name)'s eyes again as she reached out to unabashedly touch the swordsman's face to make sure that she wasn't dreaming.

"Ah? Yes? Do I know you Miss?" The golden-haired man raised his eyebrows in surprise and felt his face heating up from the girl's over familiar touches. The last time a woman touched his face in such an affectionate manner was when his mother did it.

'Who is this strange girl? Her attire's quite unusual. Could she be a demon?' The flame swordsman quickly analysed the situation while calmly placing his hand on the hilt of his bright red Nichirin sword.

(Your name) suddenly realised that she might have overstepped her boundaries because the blonde-haired man looked as though he was having difficulty maintaining eye contact with her. His normally bright smile was replaced with a thin line showing his clear distrust of her.

"Sorry. I know that this might sound crazy, but you've got to trust me. A lot of people might die tonight on the Mugen Train but they're going to be ok because of you, Kamado Tanjiro, Nezuko, Zenitsu and Inosuke."

Not a lot of things could faze the level-headed flame Hashira but right now, the man found himself completely stunned by the gravity of your words. How in the world did you know about tonight's operation? Were you one of Muzan's demons sent to deceive him? Or were you telling the truth? For the first time in his life, Rengoku Kyojuro had no idea how to respond to the situation. He also didn't know whether he should believe the words of a suspicious stranger.

"I apologise but I'm going to need proof Miss..."

"(Your name)."

Proof. The sky was already pitch black, there was not a single ray of sun. How could she show him? How could she make him believe that she had always been on his side? Time was ticking too, (your name) could hear the train announcements calling for the Mugen train's departure.

Multiple alarm bells began ringing in her throbbing head. People's lives were at stake here, there was no time to lose. She took a desperate step towards the swordsman without a plan and watched him slowly drawing out his flame patterned sword.

He didn't believe her.

Of course not.

The young girl's face fell as she watched the remaining scene unfold. Was her favourite Hashira going to kill her? Just when she was about to give up convincing Kyojuro, her eyes immediately fell on his sword.

Right the Nichirin sword!

"I know that the Nichirin sword is made of a special ore that absorbs sunlight."

"That is common knowledge. Demons also know of it." He eyed her warily as she took another step closer to him with an unreadable expression on her face.

Whatever demon art this woman possessed wasn't going to prevent him from fulfilling his duty. The man thought resolutely to himself before cautiously unsheathing his blade. Unlike (your name), his mind was already planning out ten different scenarios on how to deal with her. This was going to be no different from any other situations in the past. He just needed to act fast and make the right judgement like usual. The flame pillar couldn't afford to endanger the lives of other civilians but never in a million years could he have predicted this.

The young woman stared back into his ember eyes with unwavering resolve and took a final step forward to firmly press the side of her (colour) neck against his sharp blade. (Your name) winced in pain for the blade felt like a long papercut against her flesh.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The metallic smell of blood wafted into the flame pillar's nose while he stood there completely paralyzed for the first time. His eyes widened in horror as he watched the crimson red liquid trickling down his sword from the girl's fresh wound.

"Demons can regenerate quickly after being wounded right? Pretty sure I can't do that as you can see." She laughed a little while pushing more her hair back to show the Hashira her still-bleeding wound before hearing the sound of a sword dropping to the ground.

Clang.

"That was very foolish of you (your name)!" Kyojuro yelled as he shook the girl's shoulders a little harder than necessary. Ouch. She could feel his calloused fingers digging into the skin of her arms. Pretty sure that there were going to be marks tomorrow morning.

"I know but that was the only way to make you believe me. Sorry?" (Your name) smiled apologetically as she watched her favourite character pulling out a red handkerchief from his pocket to stop the bleeding on her neck. It wasn't too deep of a cut, but it was definitely going to scar.

"That aside, Rengoku-sama there are more pressing matters to deal with right now. I'm going to reveal to you exactly what is going to happen on the train." The (coloured) hair girl began in a serious tone before looking directly at the blonde-haired man.

It was at that moment a wave of unknown emotion suddenly surged up from within Kyojuro as he slowly took time to admire the female standing in front of him. She was not so powerless at all; her dazzling eyes held a determined gaze which made his heart beat even harder than it normally would.

"I can't reveal everything yet, but I promise to use what I know to guide you."

"Umu. I trust you." The three words uttered caused a blush to instantly form on (your name)'s face as she turned away to hide her face in her sweating palms. Oh, to be complimented by her idol!

"Are you alright (your name)?"

"Ah y-yes! First things first, Rengoku-sama you need to send Kaname to bring in more reinforcements AKA the other Hashiras, preferably those with no presence. Or Mitsuri and Shinobu would work too since they're both ladies."

"AKA? No presence? Kanroji and Kocho? Ladies? What do you mean and how do you know my crow's n- ah forgive me but I keep forgetting that you-" (Your name) firmly pressed a finger on the astonished swordsman's lips to stop him from wasting any more time.

"I'll explain later. Just do as I say."

"Alright."

End of flashback

"(Your name)? My dear child are you feeling alright?" A calm but kind voice lured the girl right out from her memories.

Oh right. She was now back in the present in the Ubushiyaki grand meeting room, in the middle of planning for the next ambush on Muzan's infinity castle.

"I sincerely apologise Oyakata-sama. I was just lost in thought about the past." The girl stammered while twisting the ends of her hair nervously.

"I see. My child, I still remember the day Rengoku-kun brought you to us. Do you?" The pale faced man gave (your name) a fatherly smile as he fondly ruffled the top of her head.

She nodded shyly with a little smile on her face. After successfully subduing the lower rank demon Enmu and saving the passengers of the train, (your name) was warmly welcomed into the demon corps. The flame pillar made sure to retell the events of her proficient orders to everyone while praising her bravery. Remembering him doing so didn't fail to make her face grow beetroot red in embarrassment.

Like everything in life, she initially had difficulty in gaining the trust of all the remaining 7 other Hashiras but it helped a lot since she knew about their past and their pain. However out of everyone there, Oyakata-sama's trust was the easiest one to gain. Unlike his wife Amane, the ill man didn't utter a single word or change his calm expression when (your name) brought up the secrets of the Ubushiyaki family which no one aside from his wife and children knew.

The relationship between Muzan and the Ubushiyaki family.

Oyakata-sama's curse and the faithful meeting between his wife and him.

The children and next heir of the 98th demon corps.

Once the girl was done with her story, the master coolly regarded her with a serene look on his face and waved her over to him.

(Your name) timidly approached the 97th leader of the Ubushiyaki family and braced herself before feeling the leader's fingers gently patting her hair.

"Thank you (your name). You've done very well."

The poor girl immediately burst into tears and broke down into loud sobs in front of the raven-haired man and his loving wife who was now smiling softly at her.

"It must have been very hard for you to suddenly find yourself in this world." Amane offered the girl a hug before gently stroking the crying girl's trembling body in a motherly way.

"I-I uh apologise Oyakata-sama and Amane-sama. I'll do my very best to protect everyone even if I can't wield a sword." (Your name) sniffled, her true feelings flowing out like a river.

"Do not weep child. Everyone has a role in this world just like you and I. We may not be able to fight but we can still play our parts in this war against demons.'

Events of the past flowed through the girl's muddled mind as she struggled to pay attention to the heated discussion between Sanemi and Giyuu. Three months had passed since the day her favourite pillar had rejected her feelings and it still hurt being in the same room as him.

Oyakata-sama's gentle smile softened a little when he laid his pale lilac eyes on (your name), his poor child was still in low spirits. He was deeply concerned about the girl fearing if this continued it might permanently affect her mental health. The man was no stranger to rejection and knew what it felt like because of his disease. The master glanced fondly at the lady sitting elegantly beside him. The hanging lantern shone brightly on the soulmate tattoo of his name on her neck. At that moment, Oyakata-sama felt truly at peace. Amane was the only lady who had fully accepted him for who he was, his disease, his family curse and everything. He sincerely hoped that each of his children would be given the same blessing and be taken care by their respective soulmates.

The meeting didn't take as long as it should which made (your name) feel extremely grateful. Day by day, it was growing exceedingly difficult to put on a 'normal' face. It was such a disgusting feeling coiling around her throat, knowing that everyone could tell that she had been shaking like a leaf throughout the entire meeting. She couldn't continue this any longer, especially when Rengoku Kyojuro chose to act as if the confession had never taken place. Not like her words mattered to him anymore.

Flashback

"Kyojuro! You need to believe in the new generation of slayers. Akaza has been defeated so it's time for you to take it slowly." The girl raised her voice in anger to shout at the stubborn flame pillar in front of her.

"I'm sorry (Your name)-san but I cannot do that. It is my responsibility whether I am wounded or not." The blonde-haired swordsman forced a laugh while swinging a training katana.

"I... did not come all the way here.... To watch you die needlessly again.... I watched you die five times Kyo, I don't think I can handle it again in person." The poor girl attempted to hide her tears in vain, but they betrayed her.

"(Your name)-san..." Rengoku's fiery eyes softened as he stared at her sobbing form. She suddenly looked so small and fragile compared to the day he first met her. It did tug his heartstrings to see how someone he never met before had actually cared so much for his wellbeing but he couldn't comply with what she wanted.

The flame pillar sighed in frustration. " You're asking me a Hashira, to abandon my duties? I cannot do that."

"And why not? You've done enough!"

"Do not speak as if you know everything!" Kyojuro uncharacteristically snapped while tightly gripping the wooden sword till his knuckles were deathly white.

Heat prickled across her skin as (your name) struggled to make sense what had just happened. The girl's pupils shot up in hurt at her favourite Hashira's cold words.

"..."

At that moment, it felt as though knife had pierced through (your name) still-beating heart and twisted at such an angle that she felt like dying. So that was how he viewed her.

A bother.

A burden.

In that case, there was only one thing left to do.

Without a single word, the quiet girl immediately turned away and bent down to retrieve her bamboo geta slippers.

"You're right I know nothing. I apologise Hashira-sama. I'll take my leave."

"(Your name)..."

With a polite bow, she left while leaving her feelings behind for the flame pillar at the butterfly estate.

Ever since the incident at the butterfly estate, she stubbornly refused to call Rengoku by his name ever again preferring to call him by 'Hashira-sama'. This was to protect her already vulnerable state and calling him by his title did help in setting boundaries between the both of them.

End of flashback

A stray thought wondered into (your name)'s mind one day as she was absent-mindedly staring out the window. What was the purpose of her being sent here? To suffer from a broken heart? How could the gods be so cruel. She had given up so much for humanity, putting her own life in danger numerous times and what has humanity done for her? Did she make the right choice? Choosing to let go of her distant life from before to stay with a man that she fell hard for from her favourite anime who didn't feel the same. She squeezed her eyelids shut in hopes that her tears would stop falling.

A door shuts.

Another one opens.

The world of 'Kimetsu no Yaiba' was as vast as the ocean but it was less dangerous now because of the demon corps' efforts. There were so many sights to see and people to meet. (Your name) realised that she shouldn't be wasting her time and feelings on someone who didn't feel the same about her. This wasn't like her, she wasn't this weak.

From that day onwards, (your name) decided to take the first step to heal her broken heart. She first started by getting rid of all the things that reminded her of him.

Faded letters exchanged between both of them.

The pendent he said that reminded him of her eyes.

A flame pattern kimono.

All of the little gifts he sent her and all the painful memories she had with him were carefully placed into a wooden box which she sealed with a heavy heart. A stray bead of water landed on the surface of the box with a loud 'thud'. She was a human after all.

The (colour) haired girl solemnly walked to the back of the garden and began digging into the earth with a small garden shovel. Countless thoughts ran through her mind for the last time before she delicately lowered the box to rest in the ground as if it was a coffin. (Your name) let out a final sob while praying with all her heart that her beloved sun would not suffer the same fate. Unbeknownst to her, a familiar blonde-haired man was watching her intently from behind an aged wisteria tree.

Her distressed sobs tore through his chest like a demon's claws but he kept his bottom lip sealed shut. Perhaps this was for the best. His mother Ruka had often told him romantic tales about finding one's soulmate. He fondly remembered how she would show him his father's name beautifully tattooed on her wrist and the radiant expression on her face was filled with love.

"My dear son. I hope that one day when you do meet your soulmate, make sure to always treasure and protect her."

"How will I know that she's my soulmate?"

"A tattoo of her name will appear just like how my name appeared on your father's wrist." The woman gently smiled while stroking her son's unruly hair.

"But what if my soulmate dies-" Kyojuro never got to finish his sentence because his father had just entered the room to lift his mother up into the air with a playful grin.

"Shinjiro!" Ruka chided with a deep blush forming on her face as she smacked her burly husband. With a smile on his face, Kyojuro watched his parents lovingly interact with each other.

What if my soulmate dies?

He only found out the answer to this question after the death of his beloved mother. His father's personality took a drastic change, no longer was he the loving kind father Kyojuro remembered after losing his beloved wife. His words became crueler and harsher towards him and his little brother, Senjuro. He would often berate them and spend majority of his time drinking while neglecting his duties as the flame pillar. Gone was the man that was one of the most respected flame swordsman in history, all that was left now was an empty shell of a man who has lost his one and only soulmate forever.

Kyojuro had never hated his father. In fact, he tried his best to be an understanding and optimistic child. His father was probably hurting even more than he did, something that he had yet to experience for his soulmate tattoo had yet to appear. The blonde-haired swordsman took one final glance at the sobbing girl before disappearing into the forest hoping that he had made the right decision. She was probably someone else's soulmate. He was not going to be the one to selfishly deny that right from a person.

The next day, (Your name) arrived at Oyakata-sama's residence with a resolute look on her face. She bowed respectfully to both the children who welcomed her and followed them to where the master of the house was.

"Ah my child. Welcome. How can I help you?" Oyakata-sama's Zen voice deeply rang throughout the entire room effectively calming the (your name)'s nerves.

"Oyakata-sama. I politely request for your permission to leave the corps." She bowed down respectfully to the master hoping that he would grant her request.

" My child. May I know the reason?" The raven-haired man's face remained unchanged as he smiled gently at the girl.

"I.... wish to live a normal life, fall in love normally and create a family just like you Oyakata-sama!"

"I see and why can't you do just that here my child?"

(Your name) bit her lips at the master's question while tensely gripping the ends of her kimono sleeve.

"I wish to see the world that the demon corps have worked hard to protect."

"... I see. Thank you very much for your service. Should you require any assistance, our doors will always remain open for you, my beloved child. The Ubushiyaki family and everyone owes you too much." Oyakata-sama and his family members bowed down to the surprised girl in deep gratitude.

"No please stop! Thank you so much Oyakata-sama, everyone for taking such good care of me." (Your name) frantically bowed down several times to the selfless people in front of her. She was so overwhelmed with emotions that she couldn't help letting a few sobs escape her tight mouth. The poor girl had already promised herself that she wasn't going to cry unnecessarily anymore.

The corners of Oyakata-sama's smile widened by a bit and he felt a sense of pride at (your name)'s growth. She no longer was as fragile as she used to be anymore, he looked forward to receiving letters about her future travels.

After meeting the master, (Your name) decided to quickly bid her goodbyes to the people that mattered to her before packing up her essentials for the long trip ahead. She wanted to leave as soon as possible and arrive at the next village before the sun set. Finally, the story was slowly coming to a close. In a few days, the demon corps would finally be able to settle the score between Muzan and the rest of humanity. The (colour) haired girl was positive that Tanjiro and the other young slayers were now ready for the fated confrontation. Her eyes softened a little feeling glad that she had played a part in keeping all the current Hashiras alive so far.

Kocho was the last person (your name) decided to say goodbye to since most of the Hashiras were busily preparing themselves for the final battle. Just when she was about the leave the butterfly estate for the last time, she heard a familiar voice calling out her name from behind.

"(Your name)."

"..." (Your name) bit her bottom lip anxiously as she attempted to push back the uncomfortable wave of emotions that were swirling from within her.

"Answer me...where are you going?" She must be hallucinating because it was impossible that the flame pillar's deafening voice would ever have a crack.

He called out her name again, this time his voice clearly strained but (your name) wasn't having any of it. How dare he? The girl opened her (colour) eyes and braced herself for the worst storm she had ever encountered in her life. She turned around to bravely face the man she used to harbour deep passionate feelings for with a steely look in her (colour) eyes.

"I hope that you get well soon Hashira-sama and safely return to your duties." With that she bowed politely and left. This time it was her that didn't spare Kyojuro a glance.

After leaving that fateful day, (your name) never saw the flame hashira ever again. Innumerable memories spent with the demon slayer corps grew faint as she slowly grew accustomed to her new life in a tiny village far from where she used to live.

Life had eventually become quite enjoyable for her, and she even managed to make a couple of new friends. The bonds between her new friends and her of course couldn't be compared to bonds she forged in battle with the noble slayers, but they were equally as kind. It wasn't long before romance kicked in and (your name) found herself very enamored with a very charismatic and handsome sushi chef called Takeshi who lived directly opposite her street.

It took a long time for (Your name) to finally accept the black-haired man's not too subtle advances. She had to applaud him for his determination even though she had already rejected him multiple times. It only took one date with him to make her realise how serious he was about her.

That night, Takeshi made sure to reserve a special table at his restaurant because he knew that (your name) liked Japanese cuisine. The man also did little things that didn't fail to move (your name)'s obstinate heart like helping her fold her kimono when he saw her sleeve dipping into the warm miso soup or leading her away from puddles with a protective arm.

Little things like these melted the woman's icy cold heart. She had long forgotten what it was like to be in love. After coming back from her first date, (your name) laid down on her bed staring up at the ceiling with warm feelings bubbling within her. She couldn't stop herself from blushing as she fondly recalled the number of times her fingers and Takeshi's touched.

This feeling was...nice.

While looking at her fingers, it was at this moment her face lit up in pleasant surprise when her curious eyes landed on the words, 'Sawamura Takeshi' etched in obsidian letters on her wrist causing her to experience the same fluttery feelings she used to have for someone years ago.

This man was her soulmate. She had been waiting for so long and here he was. Before the girl could rush out to look for him a repulsive feeling suddenly took hold of her, completely drowning her.

It suddenly felt so hard to breathe. (Your name) dropped on the floor shaking in disbelief as she helplessly watched the glowing red characters of 'Rengoku Kyojuro' sizzling on her skin like hot coals as the 5 letters mercilessly burnt away Takeshi's name from her (skin colour) wrist causing the poor girl to pass out from overwhelming grief.

Meanwhile it was also around this time when a certain flame Hashira was suddenly awakened from his slumber by a warm and gentle feeling which slowly engulfed his entire body just like how his mother used to. The energetic man immediately sat up to peer excitedly at the glowing letters forming on his wrist. He had been waiting all his life for this to happen and hoped to experience the same sort of feelings as his parents did in the past. The man vowed to treasure and protect this woman for the rest of his life.

Kyojuro's piercing eyes repeatedly scanned the glowing characters in pure shock before rubbing his eyes multiple times to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. The words '(Your name)' were unmistakable, it shone radiantly in a ray of iridescent light on his muscular wrist. It was at that moment ugly feelings of guilt and regret sank their deadly talons into the man's flesh, ripping him wide open, making his emotions run rampant.

He had hurt her.

He had hurt her so many times.

She was hurt because of his selfish actions.

But she was his soulmate, she would forgive him right?

"Your soulmate is the only one that will fully accept you for who you are Kyojuro." His mother words echoed through the quiet night.

"That's right," the blonde haired man muttered with a disturbed look in his eye. "She will definitely forgive me." He hastily got up and headed to where his soulmate used to stay, hoping that she had left him an address.

When Kyojuro arrived at the abandoned residence, he thought back tenderly to all the times (your name) and him spent together. Now everything made complete perfect sense, this explained why he couldn't stop himself from spending time with her.

Sure enough, he found a yellow envelope addressed to him on the table. He breathed in slowly before getting lost in his own thoughts as he took out the folded letter out of its confines.

'I'll wait for you.'

He sincerely hope that was what she had written.

These flame Hashira was of course wrong, his face immediately fell and his world dimmed when he read what you had written in a single paragraph.

To Rengoku Kyojuro, the man I used to love,

I'm thankful that we met in this life. It doesn't matter that you don't feel the same but I'm just thankful that you are alive. With all my heart, I hope that you will find happiness with your destined soulmate. You deserve to be someone's everything, the reason their heart beats and I know it can't ever be me. Thank you for being the warm engulfing ray of light in my dull life.

You kept my heart ablaze.

(Your name).

The flame pillar crumpled the letter in his bare hands feeling like the most worthless person in the world. He had hurt his soulmate. Did he even deserve her? Tears of guilt started falling fast and thick down his pointed chin as he placed his face into his palms feeling pathetic. What has he done?

'Your soulmate will surely forgive all your mistakes because she is your other flame, your other half.'

"You're right mother. She will forgive me." Kyojuro stood up with a determined glint in his eyes. First, he was going to retrieve all the things. He needed to show his soulmate proof. Proof of his love for her, this wouldn't be a difficult feat as he already knew exactly where the items were.

The crinkled secret letters exchanged between them. Each one written with care and genuine concern about his wellbeing.

The time when he bought (your name) a pendent after telling her that her eyes resembled the bright jewels twinkling in the night sky.

A flame patterned kimono specially tailored for her because he thought she looked radiant in his family's colours.

All the little gifts he gave her, all the precious memories they had with each other, all of them being dug out by the man's raw trembling hands. She was going to need at these now that they were bonded as soulmates.

Once Kyojuro was done packing away his valuable gifts, he made his way to Oyakata-sama's mansion in hopes that he could get information about your whereabouts.

(Your name) on the other hand was finally awake from her brief fainting spell. The (colour) haired woman tiredly pulled out a chair and stared out of the window, feeling more tears brimming at the corners of her eyes as she gripped her wrist a little harder than necessary. She let the tears fall, not caring to raise a hand to stop them. They splashed down creating dark splotches on her charcoal coloured kimono before slipping down to settle on the wooden floorboards of her kitchen, seeping through the cracks.

(Your name) had tried everything. Using water, using soap even resorting to using a sponge but Kyojuro's name still stubbornly remained, just like the owner. The exhausted woman quietly stared back at the name tattooed on her wrist feeling a sense of despair. She didn't want this. There was a time in the past when she once did but now, she had already moved on.

'Right. She had moved on.'

(Your name) got up with an expressionless look on her face before reaching out for a box of matches. Her nimble fingers gripping the middle of the matchstick as she pressed the head of the match hard against the striker to light up match like she had done plenty of times before in the past.

The flame on the matchstick flickered in that vulnerable way a fire does, reminding her of past self. She couldn't believe she used to find flames to be ever so beautiful. (Your name) wordlessly watched the flame dance in an almost captivating way before placing her wrist over the tiny inferno and closing her eyes.

It took some time before Kyojuro Rengoku had finally arrived at the little village where his soulmate was supposedly staying at. Normally it would have taken a person a day but, the blonde-haired man was a Hashira. It was during times like this, when he felt thankful for being born with superior abilities. Kyojuro felt his heart rate immediately pick up as soon as he thought about (your name)'s reaction to seeing him again.

He didn't know where to start. There were so many things that had happened during her absence. So many things to tell her. Muzan was finally eradicated so she must be worried about that Kamado boy and the rest, right? He on the other hand was also alive, aside from a few scars here and there but he was in still one piece.

The blonde-haired man unconsciously gripped his arm while peeking shyly at the name inscribed on his wrist. He couldn't help but admire the beautiful characters of his soulmate's name. Kyojuro briefly wondered how his name would look like on (your name)'s arm. It filled him with so much pride to know that the two of them were finally bonded for life.

'(Your name).'

The name of his soulmate.

Just when he was about to enter another street, he heard a masculine voice calling out the exact name on his wrist.

"(Your name). Please do me the honour of being my wife."

She couldn't.

She wouldn't.

She was his soulmate.

Soulmates were meant to be with each other. The flame pillar felt his mouth dry up when his eyes landed on her. (Your name) looked even more beautiful than she used to. Her hair was now longer, and it tumbled elegantly down her shoulders. Her eyes still held that same twinkle that reminded his so much of stars. The man couldn't do anything but watch the happy scene unfolding in front of him. 

"You do know that I have a burnt so called soulmate mark on my wrist, right?" Kyojuro watched her giggle while showing off her wrist to the dark-haired man who was laughing cheerfully at her playful antics.

"Doesn't matter. Mine has your name on it. That's all that matters to me."

The blonde haired man watched frozen at the scene playing out in front of him painfully reminding him of his parents' loving interactions except this time he wasn't the one bringing smiles to the (hair colour) haired woman.

"Make sure you don't regret it Sawamura-san. I'm one in a million, no a bazillion!" (Your name) immediately pouted while folding her arms in a playful manner.

The sushi chef simply smirked while holding back his laughter. "I'll make sure you'll never regret it my love."

Rip.

Nothing had prepared him for this. Rengoku Kyojuro felt his heart splitting into two after hearing those words. His soulmate had just accepted a stranger's proposal.

Not his.

This was wrong.

The flame Hashira clenched his fist in anger while thinking of the next steps to take to make things right again. He was going to correct both his mistakes and (your name)'s. If he couldn't have her heart, he didn't want to live anymore.

  Today turned out to be such a wonderful day for (your name). She was still feeling giddy from being proposed to earlier.

"At least, the name on Takeshi's wrist is mine." She whispered to herself completely unaware that a pair of golden eyes were watching her intensely from the corner of the room.

"Are you sure dear (your name) because I'm pretty sure this is your name tattooed across mine."

Clang.

The (colour) haired woman immediately dropped her keys on the hard floor in fear as did her poor heart. No, it couldn't be.

There in all his burning glory, Rengoku Kyojuro slid out from the shadows of the living room with a complicated look on his face.

"What's this about names when your real soulmate is right in front of you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." (Your name) shouted while putting her wrist behind her back.

The ever-enigmatic man blinked earnestly at the woman while smiling.

"Stop trying to hide it (Your name)."

Kyojuro ran his fingers through his hair in an irritated manner, he didn't understand why his beloved was trying so hard hide her soul mate mark. Was it so shameful to be the soulmate of the flame Hashira?

"Please, just leave. You're not welcome here." Her voice was as cold as ice dripping with a sharpness that pierced his heart. 

Kyojuro wasn't used to how (your name) was acting. He had originally wanted to crack his usual jokes, but he decided against it because he knew that she wouldn't laugh like she used to. The way she was acting now was beginning to get on his nerves.

Rengoku Kyojuro was normally an understanding man. Always bright, always positive and always in a good mood. All that shattered when he spotted his soulmate's wrist.

"What's this?" Kyojuro's eyes glinted dangerously as he forcefully pulled (your name)'s arm out to inspect the damage done to her soulmate tattoo. Whatever she had used to burn his name off her skin worked wonderfully. His name was completed seared off, leaving pink patches of skin behind.

"Like I said years and years and years before Hashira-sama it's NONE OF YOUR CONCERN." The (hair colour) haired woman spat out in a hateful voice and tried to pull her delicate wrist back in vain. That asshole's grip hurt.

"It is my concern! It's my name isn't it. Who did this?" The blonde man felt his patience thinning as he tapped his feet on the kitchen tile.

"I did."

"Why?"

"Because Rengoku Kyojuro is dead to me!"

"Oh?"

(Your name) had never seen Rengoku this angry before. The flame Hashira's complexion immediately darkened and he began taking a couple of menacing steps closer towards her. Before she could react, she found herself backed into the stone-cold wall of her living room, staring up at a very pissed off Rengoku Kyojuro.

"That hurt my love." (Your name) flinched when she felt swordsman lift her chin forcing her to stare back into his fiery globes.

"You hurt me first." The woman threw him the most venomous look she could muster but it didn't seem to faze him at all.

"Haha. Alright. So now that we are even, let's start over. My dear soulmate, we are going home." The Hashira placed a gentle kiss on (your name)'s knuckles and stared right into her (colour) eyes. His eyes holding a silent promise.

"You're delusional. Wait till I inform Oyakata-sama about this!"

"How cute. He already knows. Everybody knows that the name on my wrist is indeed yours." He whispered into (your name)'s ears while pressing his wrist closer to her eyes to show her proof of his love for her.

"No. That's... No."

"Fate has already decided my beloved one. So, I suggest that you stop fighting it. I won't stop loving you so please for both our sakes, tell me that you're mine." With that, Kyojuro sunk his teeth down into her scar to mark her again as his.

#kimetsu rengoku #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyōjurō #rengoku x reader #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #demon slayer rengoku #kimetsu no yaiba #kyojuro x y/n #rengoku kyojuro #yandere kyojuro rengoku #kny kyojuro #kny #kny reader insert #kny rengoku #demon slayer kyojuro #demon slayer #daddy rengoku #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x y/n #rengoku #yander rengoku #yandere #kimetsu kyojuro #kimetsu manga #kimetsu anime #soulmate #long reads #rengoku x you

[deekssteve911]

Driving Standards 2022 

This is an issue. Competitors are being killed. Injured. Forced out of the ‘sport’. For what? Ego? It is not racing, it is definitely not ‘sport’.

And, most of all, it is not acceptable.

And it IS worse today than it was in the eighties and nineties.

And that is NOT rose-coloured glasses. I was there, both times. And today.

Having rejoined Silverstone, steering the ARDS programme, and joining the ARDS board of directors as Silverstone’s representative, it is absolutely my remit to get involved here. Because, since I retired from full time racing in 1998 - then again in 2002, the standard of driving - and attitude - has darkened measurably.

Cards on the table here, I’ve made moves in my earlier ‘career’ that I am not proud of. A combination of being overly-psyched, determined to get to the front, under pressure from sponsors for results - under pressure from MYSELF to get results - meant that I made some pretty reckless moves. Some, fairly high profile - hitting bridges, carrying the BBC Grandstand onboard camera, starring in ‘Havoc’ videos (and hospital wards), stopping races - I’m lucky to still be here. I saw racer’s lives ebbing away - Andrew Coulson in Formula Renault in 1993 at Oulton Park comes to mind - saw things I will never forget. Despite it all, I still love the sport.

But, coming out of retirement in 2015, briefly, woke me up to the changes. My first test day in a borrowed Aerial Atom on the Grand Prix circuit at Silverstone saw an out of control ‘gentleman’, (sic), driver in an Aston GT4 outbrake himself, and run hard into the back of ‘my’ car, ( - then later that same afternoon totally destroy both his Aston and a visiting Lamborghini Trofeo at Maggots ...). imbecilic driving, truly. Silverstone marshal’s had to stop the apoplectic Italian Lamborghini driver from delivering retribution. For what gain?

What had really changed? Rich trackday warriors in powerful GT4 cars stuffed with driver aids - successful businessman, with no time nor ego to serve their apprenticeship in low powered cars whilst they built up their skill sets, and muscle memories. Teams so desperate for the dollar they were prepared to kid these same people on that they were ready for 450 BHP, or an evil-handling powerful ‘historic’, professional sim builders and facilities who allowed delusional novice drivers to build their hours to the point they really believed they were - are - ‘ready for action’. And a sport that worries so much about making the point of entry ‘accessible’, that any consideration of paid for ‘tuition’ or ‘education’ is a taboo topic - because of a ‘barrier to entry’.

Having become involved in F1 Esports as twice-World Champion Brendon Leigh’s coach and mentor, and having in 2008, presented the ‘GTA Academy - Bedroom Gamer to Le Mans’ TV programme, I know EXACTLY  the value of sims. As an ‘ADD ON’, ‘NOT IN PLACE OF’.

When I made that very first ARDS video, way back in, maybe 1993, (?), I remember spending a whole weekend sifting through BHP’s VHS 🤣 motorsport videos picking the sections I wanted to use in my ‘how not to ...’ part of our training video. Scroll forward, 2022, apparently you cannot use clips like that anymore, it offends people - so, Motorsport UK rather cleverly enlisted the sims they have bought for their academy, to remake the scenario - only with a better scenario outcome. 

Let’s be clear here: I watched the ORIGINAL footage with some trepidation. These, by and large, were not competitors driving on the limit disputing race places that would affect the outcome of a championship. For the most part they were minor places, albeit, in important championships - certainly to the drivers. But they WERE ridiculous shunts. And, once or twice, shunts that could easily have been catastrophic. In my era, I remember a Formula Ford driver being rolled and having his head crushed fatally by the Snetterton armco barrier. One of these exact example shunts could easily have ended that way. Props to the drivers concerned for lending us the onboards, that takes balls. Thank you gents.

Paul Crawford, Motorsport UK’s very experienced Esports Manager and I re-ran the scenarios on the sims, in each case scripting a better outcome. Better financially too - I reckon we saved about £500k of damage with our preferred scenarios. And all the competitors finished. 

Listen, we all make mistakes. Me more than most. And returning to race at my advanced age, albeit only in a ‘classic’ way, I’ll make more. But a lifetime of experience, losing friends on the racetrack, seeing a thousand cars and dreams wrecked, has made me focus on my sport - and our business. 

We ALL need to work to make it better. That’s all of us. Keeping it clean requires a mentality reset, not just drivers - teams - officials. Especially including myself. We all have to commit to it. And work at it.

Banger racers have it sussed - they do not spend hours at the paintshop, ordering parts, applying sponsor’s vinyls, setting up suspension to the nth degree. We do. And we are travelling at twice the speed. It’s going to hurt, and its going to be expensive.

There is another way 🏁

#ourmotorsportuk

[seijorhi]

SPIDER LILY

FINAL GOODBYE

“I’ll pray to meet you again in another life. For now, I have to settle with a farewell, though.”

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

tw: blood, murder, character death, reader death, mentions of gore, yandere, serial killer oikawa <33

“Detective?”

His voice echoes through the stacks, rougher than you’re used to, laboured – but no less mocking.

You ignore it, focusing instead on the weight of the gun in your hand, on calming your heart, steadying your breath. Your torch is gone – dropped somewhere near the doors, you think – the power in the warehouse cut before you’d even arrived. Stumbling through the darkness, you only have the dim light of your cracked phone to see.

To silently follow the trail of blood, the splatters so dark against the concrete floor they almost appear black.

You’d fired two shots. One hit him in the shoulder, a nice, clean through and through. It’d slow him down a little, hurt like a bitch, but it wouldn’t cause the amount of blood you’re seeing. A gut shot, maybe – it was too dark for you to be certain. And yet with every step you creep forward, there’s more. Not just on the floor, but smeared over the boxes that line the narrow stacks. As if he’d stumbled and caught himself on the shelves, and then kept on limping forwards.

How much blood could he lose before it killed him? Surely less than this, you think. They’d taught you the exact percentage back in school, but your mind only draws a blank as you inch forward. You can smell it too, that sharp, overpowering metallic tang that lingers unpleasantly on your tongue.

“Do you believe in soulmates, Detective?” he pants, apparently unbothered by your silence.

Closer now.

Swallowing tightly, your finger, poised just above the trigger, trembles – and yet, as you dart round the corner to the next stack, you find nothing but more blood. Just like the others before.

“The ancient Greeks believed that once upon a time, humans were born with four arms, four legs and two heads, and that Zeus, fearing the power of these perfect creatures, split them in two.” A wet, shuddery breath, followed by a laugh. “They’d be doomed to wander the earth for the rest of their lives, trying to find the other half of their soul.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you don’t dare voice the question sitting like a lump in your throat. He’s delusional, you know this, but–

“You felt it that night, didn’t you?” Oikawa pauses for a moment, as if he truly expects you to answer him. That – or the pain and the blood loss was finally getting to him. “As if you’d been walking around blind your whole life, and suddenly there was light, and colour… beauty. You and I were made for each other. Two halves of the same soul, bound in this life and whatever comes next.”

Truthfully, you had felt something that night you’d let him pull you from the bar, his hand slipped in the back pocket of your jeans, his lips hungrily kissing at your jaw. Not whatever cosmic binding he seemed convinced of, but a gnawing sense of unease that you’d tried desperately to ignore, even then.

It was the expression on his face, the way he’d stared as he fucked you, kissed you until you couldn’t breathe – pupils blown wide, that manic, feverish infatuation that felt wholly out of place for a drunken one night stand.

And now you can’t think of that night without seeing those poor girls, carved up and left in pieces, the messages he’d left for you. Nausea roils in your stomach.

“You’re bleeding out, you know,” you say, glad that your voice at least is somewhat steady. One foot in front of the other – he can’t be far now. “Let me help you–”

“It’s a little late for that,” he calls out. “You have a good aim, Detective.”

Heart lodged in your throat, gun and phone braced in your hands, you step around the corner–

Another empty stack.

Fuck.

“I’ve never considered myself to be much of a religious man,” Oikawa rasps, his voice near enough to unnerve, but in the darkness and the looming labyrinth of boxes you can’t tell where it’s coming from. “But I’ll pray to find you in the next life. For now though…”

And something like dread pools in your gut as you force your legs to move, to keep inching towards the sound of those wet, gasping breaths.

“I suppose I’ll have to settle for goodbye, darling.”

You feel the warmth at your back a split second before his knife rips at your throat.

He’s there to catch you – the two of you collapsing back against the shelves as blood sprays with every frantic, dying beat of your heart. And as you gasp, choking and desperate, clawing weakly at his arms, Oikawa’s lips once more find your temple.

“I’ll see you soon,” he breathes.

Our Bloody Valentine Masterlist

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #ofc i had to start with him #hfjdjhfgjdk #our bloody valentine

[just-some-random-blogger]

Bootylicious

Stray Kids Bang Chan x Idol!Reader Summary: You're known as the gym rat in your group, and quite frankly, you only have two moods: shredding or chilling. This was why when you're not asleep in between schedules, you're spotted with a male idol you happened to meet in the gym you were at that day. It's a known fact though, that you and Bang Chan are gym buddies and each other's spotter. Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: Internet toxicity, sasaengs, vulgar language, sexism, misogyny, pining, fluff, mentions of Pentagon because why not <3, etc.

A/N: Girl, i shouldn't do this but I did. It's so funny to me someone requested this cause I have recently become an exercise junkie lol. Also, if you can't tell, there is a pov shift after the cut so yeah. I also wanted to keep the reader gender neutral but I want to write about how psychotically different people treat male and female idols because that stuff aint it. It's most definitely not what anon was expecting me to write but I hope they enjoy it nonetheless.

There's compilation in YT with growing parts centered around you flexing your physical fitness and prowess. It ranges from you affectionally touring your fans, which really meant the cameraman, through the gym, introducing your trainer, and doing your routine on camera, to your group (and others) both fawning and bragging about how strong and how hot you are.

CLIP #1: A scene from an interview of your group in Japan, struggling to talk about how you can do 40 straight push ups.

There was a male interviewer in a suit you could all faintly recognize was talking about your recent Instagram post of a gym mirror selfie.

One of your youngest members smirked and in broken Japanese, cutely said, "Wah, she does 100 push ups! Everyday, every night."

You snap your head to the maknae and raise your brows, "nani?" You begin to shake your hands in protest and begin to explain your truth, "absolutely not 100. Maybe around 40, but nooooo, not 100."

The interviewer and your group comically react in awe. The man in the suit urges, "can you show us?"

You give a face, "Excuse me, but I'm not getting paid to do that in this miniskirt."

Everyone, including the film crew, break into laughter.

CLIP #2: A scene from a variety show where you had to prove you were, in fact, yourself, by doing a shortened version of your exercise routine.

One of the hosts of the show asks, "Wait, do you honestly do all of this in your workout? Like you can do all of it?"

The list of your exercises were written on a colourful cardboard, held by the one who just spoke. It was a range of exercises in 10 sets, from jumping jacks to sit ups, to vague sounding exercises like crab pinches and robot arms.

You purse your lips at the last question asked of you, not really liking the tone in which it was asked. You answer quickly and nod proudly, "I actually do more, cause when I get in the zone and I'm already really sweaty, I feel like I should keep going until my whole body burns." You chuckle.

The older hosts, tilt their head and mutter lowly under their breath something along the lines of, "I'd rather die."

You finally do the routine, quickly, continuously, earning impressed reactions from everyone.

"That's hot," one of the hosts note.

"Ya, for some reason it looks easy to do."

The hosts begin to clamour at that statement, and force whoever said to do the exact thing you did. Clearly, they don't work out as much as you do and cannot even get halfway through it without stopping.

You break out into a breathless laugh in amusement of the comical attempt but then protest, explaining how bad it is to force yourself to do more than you can

CLIP #3: Pentagon, Hongseok especially, fawns over how fit you are

Trailing a conversation about how your group is close with Pentagon because your companies are situated closely to each other and you wind up eating together a lot, there is an anecdote about how there was a jar no one could open, no one but you, that is.

The interviewer asks no one in particular, "wah, none of you could open the jar? Really? Or did you all just pretend so she could open it?"

There is a chorus of answers concluding with, "no really, she was the only one that was able to open it."

The story is backed up by how the jar had a really small lid and some hands were too big. Then came an explanation how you were recently into the new rock climbing machine in your gym.

Hongseok speaks up, "I was invited to go to rock climbing in, like, an actual rock climbing place and I was honestly so surprised when she began to climb. She said she never actually tried rock climbing on a wall, but it seemed like she had been doing it for years."

Shinwon agrees, "Right, right. I was also really curious about what they did that day," he points to Hongseok, "that I joined them one time. I never felt so out of shape in my life. I just stayed back and filmed everything."

Pentagon laughs, and then agrees that you were exceptionally fast and just super fit in all honesty.

The interviewer catches Hongseok's expression then suddenly asks, "do you like a woman like that?"

"Yeah, I like my women strong."

Then came a lot of teasing remarks from Pentagon, and a plethora of complaints from delusional fans who did not want Hongseok to ever breathe in your direction again.

With all that's been said about that, in all the parts of this series floating around in the internet, one thing remained, there was a slightly larger population of impressed fans than the still large portion of antifans who wanted nothing to do with it and only came around to hate.

It's hard not to think about it, but even the slightest back handed compliment can sometimes linger in one's mind.

And right now, as much as I kept my mind on my counting as I finished my set high knees, I couldn't help but think of how much backlash I got from posting a post workout photo with my midriff exposed.

Apparently that was not only enough to merit hate for being both a whore and an attention whore, but people baselessly began to hate on my groupmates simply for being associated with me.

It's kind of sad really, how, say Wonho, can post a fairly exposed photo of himself and get so much praise for it, and yet I couldn't even do anything remotely close to that.

And I don't even mean to come at Wonho, we all know he's a beast at the gym and should be able to show as much of his hard work as he is comfortable in showing, but why can't I?

"Hey trooper. I thought you said you were only doing 80 counts?" a voice cracks me out of my train of thought.

I turn to whom spoke and chuckle at myself as I stop my leg raises, "ah yeah, I got lost in thought, and your really good song."

I pull on my earphones and give a lopside smile, "I love working out to God's Menu."

He gives a soft, "he he, thanks."

"No need for a thank you when I'm only giving my honest opinion, Chan."

"Yeah, well still, it makes my kokoro go doki-doki," he sniggers, crossing his arms and flashing a dimpled smile. I raise my upper lip and reel back, "EWWW!"

I playfully shove him. He acts hurt, "this is violence against children."

"Chan, you're literally older than me."

"That doesn't mean I'm not a child at heart."

"You mean, it doesn't mean you're not a drama queen."

"Hey, I have no interest in having a throne, my only interest is," he leans in and whispers, "you."

I feel my soul leave my body as he snorts to himself and runs away. I regurgitate in surprise, "YA!"

"You better do your next set properly," Chan says heading off to a cable row machine, "I'm always watching."

I try to ignore the blood rushing up your neck, "creep."

He shrugs, "rather that or have you get injured, sweet heart."

Yeah, Chan has saved me from a lot of injuries I could have had. It was a bad habit. It stemmed from the same thing that made me mess up my count a while ago, my overthinking.

Sometimes I thought of rather harmless things, but sometimes I began to fixate on the hate I received for simply being. I do a lot to get my mind to realize that they hated me simply because they could and because it was easy. Exercising helped tremendously, especially when I had someone fun to work out with, especially when I was with Chan. He just... made me feel safe, y'know.

But when the news of us being work out buddies surfaced, a lot of sasaengs came for me. Of course, a lot of Stays and my own fans were really kind about, speaking out that we were our own people and exercising together did not mean anything in particular really.

But some really went for it, and made it a hobby to comment on everything I was in that I was a slut for 'working out' with different men every day."

I let out a breath as I finish my routine. I catch my breath and go for a swig of my water. I take a moment then sit down by the mirror, which was near where Chan was currently working out.

"You're doing it again."

I turn from where I was blankly staring at turn to Chan who gave me a soft look, "you good?"

I release a sigh then purse my lips, "maybe."

He pouts, "what happened?"

I shrug and stand from where I sat, "you know, the usual."

Chan then comes up to me and takes my water bottle from me, "you know, no matter how much people say you don't need water to live, you can never change the fact that you are extremely dependent on water to live."

I look at him and half- heartedly point, "are you calling me thirsty?"

He begrudgingly groans and releases a chuckle. He calls my name out in a scolding tone. I feel myself relax, "I know what you're getting at Chan."

He nods, "good. I'll always be here to remind you of that."

I smile and feel an urge to hug him, "if you weren't so sweaty, I would totally hug you right now."

Chan then gives me a look then does not hesitate to crush me into his arms. I groan and whine in protest. He chuckles, "you literally just said you wanted a hug!"

"YOU'RE LITERALLY SO SWEATY. NO ONE WANTS THIS TORTURE."

Chan huffs and gives a wounded look, "hmp. You better spot me while I lift or else I'm unfriending you."

"Hmm... I think I'll be good without you as a friend."

I half expect Chan to whine about it, but he instead smirks, "ahhhh, you must want me to be your boyfriends so badly huh."

I- I mean...

CLIP #4: A crack edit of Chan when he gets asked about his gym relationship with me in Chan's Room.

He was looking through the questions and suddenly chuckles, his ears noticeably began to redden. Cue a zoom in of his face and his red ears. Cue a clip of Cardi B saying, "that's suspicious."

He says my name then continues, "am I close with her? Yeah. I would say I'm close with her-- and her whole group actually."

Captioned: Nice save, Chris.

"The kids and I are close with her group," he says, clearing his throat.

A clip of him clearing his throat is repeated about ten times.

Chan adjust the beanie he was wearing as he thinks of what he was going to say next, "we actually do work out together a lot because she's under a trainer that works with my trainer."

Captioned: Sure, Chan. That's the only reason, right?

Chan catches another question, "Is she a beast in the gym like Hongseok says?" He breaks into a laugh. He then rubs his cheek and grits his teeth.

A clip of someone saying, "Oh he's jealous," flashes on screen.

"Yeah," Chan finally says, "she's got a really high stamina."

Cue the clip, WHAT DID HE SAY?

Chan continues, "she can go between exercises without stopping. she doesn't even take that much time to catch her breath. In fact, she sings while exercising sometimes, which helps make her vocals stable."

Captioned: Queen Tingz.

The next thing that happens is Chan breaks into a laugh and begins to chuckle. He says, "Sorry I saw a funny comment."

Captioned: WHAT HE MEANS IS HE SAW A COMMENT SAYING 'SHUT UP CHRIS, YOU'RE WHIPPED."

Then came these comments:

LITERALLY LOOK AT HOW FLUFFY BANG CHAN GETS WHEN HE TALKS ABOUT HER DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME MY SHIP IS ALIVE

They are dating period. prove me wrong. you cant

Chan literally blushes over anything, buT HE TURNED INTO A TOMATO WHEN HE TALKED ABOUT HER BYE

if you hate on your faves loving each other, you most definitely need Jesus (:

PLEASE CAN YOU SEE HOW WHIPPED THEY ARE FOR EACH OTHER

Yeah... it's not been confirmed to this day.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #bang chan fanfic #chan fanfic #bang chan fluff #stray kids fluff #bang chan gif #stray kids request #chan imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids au #bang chan au #bang chan x reader #pentagon fanfic #pentagon wooseok #bang chan x idol!reader #chan x idol!reader #stray kids gif #bang chan smut #bang chan angst #chan fluff #hongseok fanfic

[cacoetheswriting]

idea of perfection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: kinda angsty, subtle mentions of weight / body image issues Word Count: 1.3k Request: anonymous: “i was wondering if you could write something with Spencer and a plus size reader based on the song heather but please let them end up together.” A/N: so for context i made jj ‘heather’ in this fic. this kinda takes place around the first season so will isn't in the picture yet and spencer is crushing on her. hope you like it!

-

The air caught in your throat as the petite blonde entered the room. She neatly placed the latest case files on the conference table and peeked up at you; a warm grin illuminating her already perfect features. Your mouth twitched into an awkward half-smile before she turned her attention to the screen turning it on.

Your eyes however were still fixated on her. Rather on what she was wearing. A burgundy sweater you knew all too well hung loosely on her figure. Underneath, she wore a white blouse. Silk no doubt. The collar was elegantly placed around the ruff making the colour of the sweater pop even more.

There was no denying JJ looked great, like an off-duty runway model. When you were lucky enough to wear that exact same burgundy garment that one afternoon it clung to your body tightly, you were afraid you might stretch it out on him. You glanced down at your stomach and sighed quietly.

A million questions raced through your mind. Why was JJ wearing that? Where did she get it? Did he give it to her? Obviously he must have, that was the only logical explanation, but why did he give it to her. Why? Why-

The young doctor entered the briefing room and immediately breaking you away from your thoughts. Sitting up straight in your chair you watched as Spencer sat down across from you, his eyes glued to JJ. The two of them exchanged soft smiles. He complimented her awkwardly, pointing at the sweater. Her smile widened. “Thanks Spence. And thank you for letting me borrow it.”  

The lump in your throat grew tighter with every passing second. It was clear that the blonde cared about him deeply. Whether her feelings were romantic or platonic no-one really knew but either way you couldn't compete with JJ. A sight for sore eyes. Brighter than the blue sky. You stood no chance. It made you want to curl into a ball and cry.

“You have to just come clean Y/N.” Elle whispered as the two of you walked out of the briefing. “Are you crazy?” You muttered back. “Babe, you will never know until you try.” “I do know. He likes her.” Elle shrugged. “I know in my gut that the pretty doctor has his eyes set on you.” “You’re delusional.” “You’re delusional.” She walked around her desk, reaching underneath for her things. You rolled your eyes playfully at the brunette and proceeded to grab your own go-bag before the two of you headed for the elevator together. 

Elle has been your friend since day one. Your ‘partner and confidant’ as she calls it. She is the only person on the team that knows your true feelings towards Spencer. Sworn to secrecy, she nudges you a little everyday to ask him out. Encourages you to make small talk with the young doctor, sit next to him at the bar during afterwork drinks or on the jet - which is exactly what she prompted you to do when stepping onto the aircraft.

She nudged you gently, yet effectively, making you stumble into the free seat beside Spencer.  

“Hi.” “Hello.” He greeted you with a warm smile. It made your heart skip a beat.

“What are you reading?” You asked, pointing to the book in his lap. He showed you the front cover before answering. “The Lucifer Effect by Philip Zimbardo.” “What’s it about?” You probed while making yourself comfortable. “It explores why good people can be convinced to act evil and where the line is really drawn between good and bad. It also gives an excellent insight into the power of roles and group identity, and how humans can become cruel very quickly in the right situation.”  

Trying to get a quick scan of the page Spencer was currently on, you leaned towards him. It wasn’t until he stopped talking that you realised how suddenly close the two of you were. Nervously, you looked up to find he was already looking at you. 

“W-well-” You cleared your throat. “Be sure to let me know if it’s worth the read when you’re finished.” Spencer nodded, still looking at you. “I suspect I’ll have just enough time to make a coffee.” You joked awkwardly hoping he’d laugh. He did. 

“If eh- if you make me one too I can summarise the book for you.” 

“It’s a date.” 

It took you a second to register the sentence that has just come out of your mouth. You bit your tongue, eyes wide with horror. But Spencer didn't seem to mind, maybe he misunderstood what you meant. Or maybe he didn't realise that you said it because in that moment Morgan slumped down across from you. 

“So pretty boy, couldn't help but notice that JJ was wearing your favourite sweater this morning.” Spencer’s eyes darted from you to Derek. You took note of the slight reddish blush greeting the young doctors facial features. Nervously, he cleared his throat.“I let her borrow it.” “Nice one kid!” Morgan exclaimed with a grin as you sulked back into your seat; heart aching.

The rest of the day flew by in the blink of an eye. It was suddenly two in the morning and the whole team was heading back to the hotel, all equally exhausted. 

As usual you were bunking with Elle who called dibs on the bathroom and disappeared the moment you set foot inside your room. Through the wall, you could hear the shower being switched on accompanied by Elle’s not so quiet humming. 

There was a knock on the door breaking you away from listening to the concert Elle was performing. With a smile on your face, you headed to open it. The young doctor greeted you on the other side. 

“Spencer, what are you doing here?” 

He held up the book he was reading earlier. “I’m here for our date.” 

You blinked - did you hear that correctly? “I-uh” “It-It’s late I know, but I eh didn't want you thinking I stood you up.” With a raised brow, you stepped out into the hall closing the door behind you. You couldn’t tell whether he was being serious. Obviously not, right? 

“Spencer, I was just kidding around.” You lied, instantly regretting it. His face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry Y/N. I’ll eh I’m just gonna go.” He hesitated briefly before turning on his heel to walk away. “Goodnight Y/N.” 

The young doctor began to stride down the hall. You cursed quietly as Elle’s comment to ‘come clean’ flashed like an alert in your head. 

“Spencer wait!” 

He froze and immediately turned back to look in your direction. Taking a deep breath, you took a couple of steps towards him. He did the same and the two of you met in the middle. 

“I lied, I wasn’t kidding. I would love to go on a date with you.” Anxiously, you pulled at the hem of your shirt as you continued on. There were tears forming in your eyes. “But then I think, why would you ever want to go out with someone like- like me. Someone who looks like me when you could easily be with the perfect petite JJ. Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty. She’s perfect and, well, I’m not.” 

Finally, you mustered up the courage to look up from your feet and meet his inviting soft gaze. “The idea of perfection is outdated in my opinion.” Spencer stated while taking a step forward so that you were now standing chest to chest.

“Imagine looking at a rainbow and complaining that one of the colours wasn't perfect. That be ridiculous, yet it’s exactly what humans do when we judge ourselves for our imperfections. We forget that as humans we are also part of nature and therefore should fall into acceptance of the natural state of life which happens to be imperfect.” 

Slowly, and slightly awkwardly, the young doctor lifted his hand to cup your cheek. You leaned into his warm touch without hesitation. “H-however to me Y/N,” He paused. “, y-you are perfect.” 

-

masterlist

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #songfic #spencer reid songfic #dr spencer reid

[jungshookz]

Say if there was an alternative universe where L*** actually got together with Ceo!Yoongi, how would Ceo!OC deal with it? Genuinely curious & no offense to miss OC! We luv u! 🥺

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; alternate ceo!yoongiverse, uh oh uh oh it’s angst!!!!!! angst in ur pangst 

➺ wordcount: 1.7k

➺ what to expect; “how do you know when you’ve found the one?” 

➺ note; first of all l*** made me chuckle and second of all buckle up!!! it’s time to travel to an alternate ceo!universe where yoongi and y/n don’t end up together :’(( my heart is sad :’(( this was a baby drabble that went off the rails a little whoOps

➺ ♪;  serendipity (music box edition) okay serendipity is such a beautiful song already but the music box edition.,,. it’s so.,,. it makes a single tear roll down my cheek and i thought it was so fitting for this alternate storyline :-(

                                  ➽───────────────❥

it’s about 10:15 when you hear the faint ding of the elevator

!!!

yoongi’s back!!!!!!

you pull the sleeve of your blouse up to check the time on your watch

jesus

he’s been gone for like four hours

do dates normally last that long???

you haven’t been on one in forever and the last date you went on only lasted for like an hour and a half 

(it wasn’t a super great date)

(he took u to a burger king drive thru and u had to pay because he ‘left his wallet in his other jacket’) 

you perk up immediately when yoongi’s footsteps begin echoing down the hallway and you get up from your chair before smoothing your skirt down

your legs are a little numb considering you’ve just been sitting here tapping away at your monitor for the past four hours 

and your ass is a little sore too 

the things you do for this man!! 

“how’d the date go, boss?” you keep your hands folded in front of you and try your hardest not to twiddle your thumbs

you notice the dopey grin on yoongi’s face as he approaches your desk and... 

you’re not a love guru or anything, but that seems like an indicator that the date must’ve gone pretty well

the faint lipstick smudge on the corner of his mouth is also a pretty big giveaway

“it went so much better than i expected!” yoongi laughs lightly as he heads into his office with his suit jacket flung over his shoulder

he’s practically floating on a cloud 

you can see the little pink hearts bouncing around his head!! 

“i’m so happy to hear that, sir.” you trail behind him obediently and swallow thickly as you feel your heart clench in your chest, “i’m glad it went well!”

you don’t want to make yourself sound like an awful human being or anything but you’d be lying to yourself if you said a teensy little part of you didn’t want his date with lisa to crash and burn

you just... 

you thought that maybe... 

god 

what were you thinking?

did you actually think you had a chance with yoongi?

did you think that just because the two of you have spent a considerable amount of time together that something would happen? 

that he would slowly fall in love with you the way you’ve slowly fallen in love with him?

do you even hear yourself right now??

you’re IN LOVE with min yoongi!! 

and you thought he’d love you right back!!

you sound ridiculous!

you feel pathetic! 

how could you be so delusional?

“lisa was so wonderful… so kind and sweet and funny… she took me to this frozen yogurt place for dessert! i love frozen yogurt!” yoongi sighs as he plops down on his chair, “can i ask you something personal, y/n?”

“that depends, sir. what is it?”

“how do you know when you’ve found the one?” 

oh  

your heart thrums painfully in your chest and you swallow the growing lump in your throat 

“that’s a good question. you’ll just know when you’ve found the one, i think.” you clear your throat, “when they smile, so will you. one of your favourite sounds in the entire world will be the sound of their laugh. they’re the first thing you think about when you wake up and the last thing you think about before you fall asleep. they’ll make your heart glow golden in your chest... at least, that’s what i think.”

the corner of your mouth lifts in a fond smile when you notice yoongi gazing up at the ceiling with a dreamy look in his eyes  

you feel a kind of warmth grow in your chest when he lets out a cute little sigh 

you’re not particularly sure what kind of answer he’s looking for but obviously he wasn’t really listening because he’s starting to blab again, “how long should i wait until texting her?? god, i feel old-“

“i’m sorry, sir, you have some… you have some lipstick on your mouth.” you smile sheepishly as you cut him off

you don’t know how much more of this you can take

“oh, lord. that’s a little embarrassing.” yoongi reaches up and wipes at the opposite side of where the smudge is, “there?”  

“no, it’s just-” you point to the corner of his lip, “it’s just right there...” 

yoongi reaches up again and just misses the spot and you can’t help but snort 

“can you just help me so i don’t keep making a fool of myself?” yoongi leans back against his chair and you smile before nodding 

you make your way to the other side of his desk and yank a tissue out from the tissue box  

yoongi rolls his chair towards you and you bend over slightly to get down to his eye level  

“if it makes you feel any better…” you tuck a finger under yoongi’s chin before raising his head a little, “cherry red is definitely your colour.”

“you out of all people should know that burgundy makes my eyes pop.” yoongi murmurs quietly and you let out a light giggle as you wipe the smudge away gently

the two of you lock gazes for a brief second and you feel your heart skip a beat

oh boy

you’re in too deep 

how the hell are you going to get yourself out of this?

(and just to sprinkle a little more salt into the wound-)

“speak now or forever hold your peace.”

your fingers dig into the flesh of your palm as sooN as the priest utters that stupid phrase

you would curse but you feel like god is going to send you straight to hell if you have a dirty mouth under his roof

“hey, you okay?” jimin reaches over to take your hand and he gives you a reassuring squeeze when he notices your eyes starting to glaze over, “y/n…”

“it’s okay, i’m okay.” you press your lips together and nod, “sorry. you know weddings make me weepy.”

jimin’s shoulders droop slightly and he turns back to face the front as he chews on his bottom lip anxiously

you’ve told him time and time again noT to feel bad for you but he can’t help it!!!

he can’t help but feel awful when he sees how sad your eyes are!!!

he can’t help but feel awful when he sees the way you look at yoongi

you look at him with so much love in your eyes and it’s so clear that you’d pluck all the stars in the sky for him if he asked you to 

and jimin hates that he can’t do anything to help you!!!

you’ve been hopelessly in love with yoongi for nearly two and a half years now and jimin can tell you’re dying on the inside having to watch the man you love marry someone else

he’s tried to help you move on but it’s apparent that your heart just can’t let go 

every time you try to move on you end up bouncing back twice as hard 

he still remembers the day you found out yoongi had proposed to lisa 

the two of you were meeting up for lunch as per usual but for some reason when you stepped off the elevator to greet him you looked as pale as a sheet of paper 

“just know that this is coming from a place of love, but i feel like you might need to get a tan or something because-“ 

“she said yes.” you whisper so softly that jimin can barely make out what you’re saying 

she said yes? 

she said yes. 

yoongi’s getting married? 

he’s getting married... to lisa. 

“i feel so stupid.” your voice wavers as you let out a chuckle of disbelief 

a ghost of a smile appears on your face briefly and jimin’s eyes widen when your eyes begin to water and your cheeks begin to redden 

oh, no… 

“c’mon, there’s an empty room around the corner.” 

the memory of you collapsing to the floor and bursting into gutwrenching sobs as soon as you stepped into the room never fails to send a pang straighT into jimin’s heart 

also

weddings dO make people weepy but it should be a happy weepy!!! 

not a sad weepy!!!!!!

“you may now kiss the bride!”

the crowd immediately bursts into thunderous cheers when yoongi sweEPs lisa off her feet before giving her a loving kiss

she giggles against his mouth as she reaches up to cup either sides of his face 

time slows down as you rise from your seat and begin to clap

the sound of applause rings in your ears and you begin to feel lightheaded when the realization hits you:

it’s too late. 

jimin is able to pinpoint the exact moment your heart shatters in your chest and he feels his own heart ache for you

you look so defeated.

you force a bright smile when yoongi and lisa begin to make their way down the aisle

he looks so happy

so in love 

and that’s what’s most important here, right?

as long as yoongi is happy, you’re happy!  

“don’t.” tears tremble at your waterline and you shake your head furiously when you see jimin’s lips part to say something

you don’t want to hear whatever it is he has to say because you are currently in a veRY fragile state and you feel like you could burst into tears and completely break down at any given moment

“hey crybaby, see you at the afterparty??” yoongi reaches out to grab onto your hand as he walks past your row

“i wouldn’t miss it for the world, boss!” you chirp in response and yoongi gives your hand a squeeze 

your heart sinks in your chest when you feel his hand slip away from yours

it’s too late.

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

#requested drabbles #yoongi drabbles #ceo!yoongi #ceo!yoongi drabbles #min yoongi #yoongi fics #yoongi fic recs #yoongi writing #yoongi fluff recs #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi smut recs #bts #bts fic recs #bts fics #bts drabbles #bts fluff #bts smut #bts fluff recs #bts smut recs #bts yoongi #yoongi cute #yoongi angst drabbles #yoongi angst #bts angst fics #yoongi angst fics #yoongi angst fic recs #bts angst fic recs #bts writer recs #bts author recs

[v-hope]

His fans love you

Pairings: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Fluff, is it even surprising anymore. Mayyyyybe a lil bit of crack?

Request: “Alright alright hear me out. Everyone knows the typical "angst / breaking up because of hate" fics. But what about a reaction where you and your relationship is actually really supported and well-liked by fans? Like you get your own memes and fan accounts and stuff? Just pure crack material right here 💥”

A/N: This was such a nice change tbh, so thank you so much for requesting it! It also reminded me I still haven’t made a second part for the break up reaction regarding this same topic lmao. I hope you guys like it 💞

Kim Seokjin

“What’s so funny?” you peeked your head inside the living room when you could no longer ignore your boyfriend’s signature windshield laugh.

Snapping his head in your direction, he smiled wholeheartedly, motioning with three pats to the spot next to him on the couch for you to go sit next to him.

“My fans are the best” he voiced out as you obeyed, taking a seat by his side.

“What’d they do?” you asked with a smile — his own being way too contagious to fight it.

“There’s this contest for the most attractive idol couple going on and they made sure we made it to the list”.

“But I’m not an idol?” your previous smile was replaced with a confused frown.

One that only grew more prominent when he amusedly threw his arms up and exclaimed:

“Yet we still won!”

With that said, Jin threw his head back to let a throaty laugh that sounded just like victory escape his mouth.

On your end, still being too stunned and not really believing his words, you snatched his phone away from him — seeing right then with your own two eyes that the both of you had indeed won such title.

“Is that even allowed?” you worried.

“Who cares” he shrugged, taking his phone back in his hands to excitedly check it one more time — eyes glowing at the sight of the number one right next to your ship’s name. “Ah, our power” a pleased sigh came out of his mouth, resting his head on your shoulder, “I love it”.

And well, not to be smug or anything but, in all honesty, so did you.

Min Yoongi

“How’d the fansign go?” you wondered after having opened the door to your place for your boyfriend, allowing him to press a chaste kiss to your lips before he made his way to your kitchen.

“It was good” he kept it simple, going to grab a glass of water. “A lot of people asked me about you”.

Well, that sure did catch your attention. “They did?”

Yoongi nodded his head. “Some of them even asked me to do a Vlive with you, but I’m pretty sure they only said that so they could see you”.

You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh at both his statement and the bitter tone he had said it with; later taking a few steps towards him. “Maybe I should do a live by myself”.

“Pft, please” he laughed tauntingly, putting the glass down on the table, “you wouldn’t even know what to talk about”.

“Oh, I already know what I’d name it”.

“Please enlighten me” Yoongi said with the same previous tone and a teasing smirk.

A smirk that was instantly mirrored by you before you said: “Spilling Yoongi’s most embarrassing moments”.

That was all it took for his smug smile to be erased.

“You wouldn’t”.

“Oh, I would” you affirmed, “starting with the time we went to that music shop you—”

“Yah” he cut you off in a scolding tone, yet the pink colour covering his cheeks let you know how embarrassed he was at the mere memory. “Now I get why my fans like your evil ass so much”.

And although he knew you would never actually do such thing to him, maybe he could comply to those people’s wishes and do a cheesy couple Vlive with you… you know, just to be safe you wouldn’t drag him too much.

Jung Hoseok

Being an idol’s girlfriend, you knew you wouldn’t really get full privacy whenever you decided to go out, and you had already managed to deal with that.

That’s why, when Hobi and you were walking around the streets during a date night and a couple of fans approached the two of you asking for pictures, you squeezed his hand to let him know it was alright for him to accept.

Getting an apologetic glance from your boyfriend, you smiled sweetly, moving aside so that they could all have their pictures — that being the exact moment one particular girl called your name.

“Wait, no” she put her phone down when you stared at her, “I um, actually wanted a picture with the two of you…” at that, your heart jumped and Hobi smiled the brightest, “is that possible?”

“Of course it is!” Hoseok confirmed with no hesitation.

Letting out a blissful giggle, he wasted no time in grabbing your hand to pull you towards his body like it was all too familiar by now.

And after taking more than one picture, since the rest of the people present also wanted a picture with the two of you, and, even more, after getting complimented on your beautiful relationship, Hoseok wrapped his arm securely over your shoulders as you resumed on your walking.

“You have now become my designated picture buddy whenever someone wants to take one with me” he giddily spoke after a while.

You shook your head in amusement, staring fondly at him. “Don’t expect everyone to like me, Hoseok”.

“I don’t” he confessed, pulling you even closer and pressing a tender kiss to your temple, “but I will take every single chance I get to have more pictures of your beautiful face”.

And as the time went on and more people started asking for pictures of the two of you and you would find your boyfriend gushing over them whenever he found them on Twitter, you knew he had truly meant it.

Kim Namjoon

“Oh my God”.

After hearing what was a mixture in between a groan and a whine come out of your boyfriend’s lips, you put your phone down, placing your eyes on his tall figure lying down on the other end of the bed.

“Something wrong?” you wondered.

Namjoon shook his head, putting his phone down as well before his eyes fixed on yours — not even a second later crawling to go lay down next to you.

“My fans are saying we are, and I quote: the clumsiest, most adorable couple there is”.

Now, the clumsy bit was no news at all, yet you still found yourself defensively saying: “I am not clumsy”.

“You sure?” he taunted you; a smirk beginning to take over his face. “Because they started this thing to keep track on every single dumb thing we’ve done and see who’s the clumsiest—”

Oh.

“—and it’s almost a tie”.

You rested your weight on your elbows, lifting your body slightly up from the mattress so you could take a better look at him.

“And who’s winning?” your voice came out uncertain.

All it took for you to know the answer was watching the way his head hung low.

Nevertheless, a triumphant smile curved up your lips when Joon confirmed through gritted teeth: “Me”.

With that, you let your head fall back down on the pillow, feeling your body relax as you sighed in content.

“I love your fans”.

And they loved you. Totally a win-win situation.

Park Jimin

Your eyes remained focused on the multiple papers scattered around Jimin’s bed, studying in absolute silence as you kept him company while he chatted with his fans on Vlive — smiling from time to time at certain things he would say or just the sound of his laugh.

He had answered a couple of questions regarding either you or your relationship, for he absolutely loved gushing about you, and you were actually pretty alright with that; even with him informing his wide audience about you being right behind him studying for one of your tests.

What you were most certainly not expecting, however, was for your boyfriend to turn around in the middle of his live and call for you to come over.

You shook your head no immediately, silently motioning to your books as an excuse not to go.

“Please, baby” he pouted, being too focused on you to notice the madness his pet name for you had just unleashed in the comments. “They want the two of us”.

And, you see, saying no to that cute little pout taking over his pretty plump was not really an option to you.

So, falling for it, you stood up from his bed and made your way over to him, feeling the heat reach your face when he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you down on his lap, later wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder as you awkwardly waved into the camera.

Yes, maybe you had yet to get used to being so constantly put under the public eye, but, in all honesty, if you were getting all this attention nevertheless, you were grateful it was the good kind of it.

And Jimin? God, he was thriving to show you off to the entire world.

Kim Taehyung

“Can you believe people think I’m breaking up with you?”

Your heart jumped at your boyfriend’s sudden comment, feeling it drop for a second there before your eyes caught his — that being the only confirmation you needed to know he was indeed not breaking up with you.

“W-what?”

“Yeah” Taehyung snorted, moving closer to you on your bed and showing you his phone, “this delusional magazine made an article about me apparently wanting to break up with you” he explained, focusing back on his mobile and not being able to contain a giggle when he later added: “And we’re trending topic now on Twitter and my fans have started this petition for us not to split up”.

“They what now?” you asked again, this time feeling a smile of your own take over your factions.

“Yeah, see?” he practically shoved his phone in your face after having searched for the page. “So many people have signed it, it’s insane”.

A chuckle left your mouth as you shook your head in amusement; as if that would save your relationship if that was the case.

“I’m signing it” he stated before you could even speak up your mind, already starting to type on his phone.

You couldn’t stop a throaty laugh to escape your mouth as you threw your head back, biting down on your lower lip to help you stop it.

“Or you could just, you know…” you drew his attention, “not break up with me”.

Tae smiled sweetly — his eyes softening right before he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your lips. “I would never even dream of it”.

Jeon Jeongguk

“Jeongguk, are you… are you crying?” you worried as soon as you found him lying down on his bed with his eyes fixed to his phone as a couple of tears made their way down his cheeks.

Rushing to his side, you slumped down next to him, making him take his attention away from his mobile by gently yet securely cupping his face.

“What happened?” you softly wiped his tears.

“Nothing bad” he reassured you, allowing your heart to feel more at ease. “I just… there was this video linked to me…”

You waited a few seconds for him to go on, yet the only thing you got from him were his cheeks turning slightly red — biting down on his lower lip as he was clearly ashamed of the reason he had been crying for.

“Okay… so…” you tried to get something else out of him.

Jeongguk sighed, knowing well enough you would not let this go.

“It was a fanmade video about us” he finally explained, causing your heart to jump, “it was like, a compilation of cute moments of us and this stupid love song was playing in the background and the editing was just so beautiful and I—”

He shrugged, staring down as he did not really know how to end his small ramble.

You laughed under your breath out of pure affection, pressing a kiss to the tip of his red nose.

“Will you let me watch it so we can cry together now?”

Funny how you had said that to mock him, yet ten seconds into the video and with Guk’s body comfortably resting on top of yours as you watched it together, you were already crying, too.

#bts #bts imagines #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts fluff #kpop #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #taehyung fluff #jimin fluff #yoongi fluff #namjoon fluff #seokjin fluff #hoseok fluff

[watcher-ofthe-sky]

Pairing: Justice x Elsie

Summary: This universe binds Justice and Elsie together through a connection that runs in the very marrow of their bones; something which is stitched to the core of their existence. Like a collision, they will always be heading towards each other, no matter wherever they are. They are supposed to find each other; every atom of them reaching towards the other.

Read on AO3

***

There is something so frustratingly cruel about the destiny that makes Justice grit his teeth and stays awake at odd hours in the night, burning with hot, white anger. He silently curses the supposed powers of the cosmos in which you’re expected to surrender in because some of them are just beyond the control of any creature. 

Justice would have been just fine living without the knowledge of these forces. They can do their own business and not meddle in his life. That would have been great. Desirable. 

But it’s the derisive way in which the universe laughs and shakes its head. No. How could he possibly imagine escaping the clutches of it? This mocking universe is made of lines that criss-cross each other; threads and strings that start from one end and are stretched to the other which may not even be known. Justice would have liked that. The not knowing. He would have preferred the strings being tangled into a mess so deep that the knots would have taken eternities to be pulled apart. 

But it’s not the way the powers work. The encounter can be delayed, sure, but it’s destined to happen, no matter how different the circumstances are. 

He holds up his hand and looks at the thread knotted around his finger. 

  The Red String of Fate.

  He shuts his eyes and tries to forget its existence but the colour--the fucking colour fills his vision and he can’t help but see the crimson flooding everything. He achingly wishes to forget what comes with it. Because it is the vision of hair of the same colour. A laughter rich and bright. Love that was once so warm and tender but only turned into fire and pain that now runs through his vain.

  Elsie Crimson. 

  The bane of Justice’s existence. 

Once again fled from their reach.

Justice clutches his sheets tighter, he is aware that his ether gear is fuming but he couldn’t care less. He was so close to catching Elsie and yet the woman managed to escape again.

  “Justice,” she had whispered, her face so close to his. He was twisting in the cuffs that she had put on him, working his way out. He was almost there.

She was smirking. The fucking woman was smirking and that only made his blood boil. 

“We keep running into each other again and again,” she said. His eyes trailed the Red String tied on her finger.

  The string that connected her to him.

The string that connected him to her.

The string that connected them.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “This one will be the last time.” The back is going to arrive soon and he has almost worked its way out of the cuffs anyway. 

Elsie laughed. Once this laugh used to make his heart clench. Now it only rages him. “You have always been a bit delusional. But you’re right. These encounters have become too frequent to my liking and I would like to have some peace for me and my crew.”

“You took away everything from me,” he spat, every word filled with overwhelming anger and hatred. “Someone like you does not deserve peace. Ever. And I will make sure of it.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, the amusement from her face slowly fading away, only to be replaced by apathy. She pulled herself back and stepped away from him. 

A silence stretched between them. 

  “You know,” she said, at last, her eyes looking away with a distant look. “I have always wondered if there was another life where this,” she held her hand up and gestured to the red string, “--didn’t weigh so heavy. Where,” her gaze met his and she smiled softly and in that moment, everything around him stilled, “--we meant something to each other. Where our love would have been something softer.”

She averted her eyes again and Justice stared at the ground. He swallowed and to his own surprise, he said, “All of that could have been possible in this life too. But you blew it all away.”

  She looked at him with widened eyes and it seem as if she wanted to say something but all he could think was the emptiness that was left in the aftermath, and then suddenly, that emptiness was replaced by the bitterness which fueled him to move forward. He composed himself back again and in the flash of the memories filled with rage, he clicked open his restraints and seethed, “All of this ends today.”

But in the same exact moment, it looked like she too snapped out of the reverie of the past and smirked at him, her eyes glinting with the challenge. “Aww, but they have worked so hard in setting the ammunition. I can’t let it go to waste.”

  When he looked up, her ship was hovering low in the sky, the bullets of ether pouring down from them like a rain of fire.

“ ELSIE! ” he shouted, launching himself forward towards her but she already gone behind the smoke and the dust screen.

“Don’t be sorry,” he heard his voice from the distance. “You know we will meet again, Justice.”

  Justice sits up and then slides down the bed, making his way to the balcony. From the window, he stared at the infinite void in front of him. The massive stars and the spiralling galaxies. 

This universe which is boundless, which harbours life in the corners that are still unknown. It should be so easy to get lost in this sea and never cross paths again. After all, how many people do we meet daily and never see them in our lives again? It should be easy to get lose yourself in the grid, be a coordinate who is insignificant enough to be never traced.

And yet, this universe binds Justice and Elsie together through a connection that runs in the very marrow of their bones; something which is stitched to the core of their existence. Like a collision, they will always be heading towards each other, no matter wherever they are. They are supposed to find each other; every atom of them reaching towards the other.

He curls his fist and swallows thickly. 

  In another life.

  Maybe in another life things would have been different. Maybe they wouldn’t be at each other’s throat and none of them would have been a criminal. Maybe there they have found the warm and soft corners of each other and their love would have stayed.

He wonders if this will always be like this. This Red String of Fate which is woven into the fabrics of the universe guiding them to each other in all the lifetimes. Whether both of them are always meant to be in the same story.

  “Yes,” he says out loud, his eyes determined. “We will meet again, Elsie.”

#jelsie #justice x elsie #elsie crimson #justice edens zero #edens zero #elsie x justice #my writing #my fanfic

[angrylizardjacket]

dirty souls {Nikki Sixx}

Summary: Soulmate AU // Some people are born with a tattoo that represents their soulmate, in the place their soulmate will first touch them. You would think this makes life easier, but it just makes those with soulmarks into spectacles.

A/N: @misscharlottelee i love these kids. ALSO WARNING FOR CHILD ABUSE, physical and psychological, as well as the loss of a parent. it talks about lola’s childhood nd its not a positive time. / unedited and written in 4 hours. if you like it, please leave feedback! xx

{Run To Paradise AU}

In a world where having a soulmark is about as rare as winning the lottery, Lola - then Katie -, much to her parents surprise, was born with a broken record on her shoulder. At first they thought it was a birth mark, but it was too dark to be any ordinary birth make, and it grew as she did, solidifying it’s shape and colour by her fourth birthday. The image itself was raised, unlike a normal tattoo, and the vinyl image was thick and dark, and the label was bright red, but unreadable, and she loved it; it was the size of a hand, stretching from her shoulder blade all the way to her shoulder, with a single crack breaking the perfect circle.

“Whoever that’s for, is either gonna love or hate music,” her father, Leo, had told her once, grinning as Katie, on her tiptoes, watched a copy of Elton John’s Honky Chateau spin on the record player, bopping to Honky Cat. She was five then, still not quite understanding just what it meant to have the record on her shoulder. It didn’t matter, Leo was more than happy to go through his entire record collection with her.

Her parents hadn’t been soulmates, no-one she knew had a soulmate, she was the only kid in her entire school district with a soulmark. Of course she knew soulmates existed, she’d been logged into the American Soulmate Registry since her parents had confirmed that it wasn’t just a regular birthmark. As of 1975, there were 1032 people with soulmarks in America, 230 of whom had found each other, which left 801 potential soulmates in America, and 17 in Massachusetts with her. There’s countless others all over the world, should anyone wish to investigate, each country with their own Registry of sorts.

Later, when she was older and angrier, she’d be mad at the system, at the invasive nature of it all, would be glad she changed her name and ran away, to avoid anyone looking for her, hoping she means something to them. Destiny was just a new excuse to stalk someone. But now, it was just a sort of abstract concept, a mark that would mean something eventually, but didn’t right now.

What it meant for her now was questions from everyone, teachers and parents more than students, people eager to know what it was like to be destined for someone else.

Weird.

That was always her answer. Everyone else felt so entitled to her life that she felt like a spectacle; she couldn’t imagine the pressure the few celebrity soulmate couples would be under. When everyone had been excited over the news that there had been a new listing added to the registry, Katie had always pittied them.

Despite all the pressure on her from the world around her, her father was always a calming force, always told her ‘you’re in no rush, it’ll happen when it happens, I promise Lola, don’t let that stop you from being yourself and enjoying your life’. He had always called her Lola, a nickname derived from her birth name Keola, which he prefer to her mother-given nickname of Katie. Soon, Katie would prefer Lola too.

Everyone else, her mother included, was so ready for her to find the one that it was a little overwhelming.

“Where did you get these?” Leo asks, eyes tired as he sees the papers in her mother’s hand, having just tucked Lola in for the night. “This is stalking, Irene, just because you found them in the phonebook doesn’t make it right; it’s destiny, it’ll happen when it happens.”

“She’ll be happier with them!” Her mother would argue, voice raised loud enough for Lola to hear, to be intrigued, to be lured downstairs in the shadow of the handrail.

“She’s eight, let her be a damn child,” Leo snapped. It would be the first and only time Lola would ever hear anger in her father’s voice. He took the papers Irene was holding, and threw them in the trash. The next day, Lola finds it, sees a print-out of the registry, and addresses written in Irene’s unmistakable, perfect handwriting.

Leo was Lola’s hero, and losing him was like losing a limb.

Lola was inconsolable for months, could barely stand to leave the house, even as her mother grew weary and irrational.

“Why would he leave? Why would he just leave?” Lola tried to reason with her mother, who insisted that he was still alive, still out there somewhere, just refusing to come home.

“Because you’re here!” Irene had snapped at her daughter, only a few months shy of ten, “you’re meant to be someone else’s problem,” and she shoves Lola’s soulmarked shoulder, and Lola feels cold betrayal pool in her stomach. Her father had always insisted that the soulmark didn’t change her, but he wasn’t here to defend himself, and she was already so fragile.

There was a strange, jagged dichotomy in play in their house after that, with Irene insisting she’s too busy to ferry Lola around to her potential soulmates, while also insisting that Lola’s too young to be vising stranger on her own, however she still should be someone else’s problem, so her father can finally come back. All Lola knew was that she was a burden, and for the next six years, that’s all she knew how to feel.

Everything comes to a head the night Lola packs a bag and tells her mother she’s heading for the bus station, a list of addresses for the soulmarked in her state.

“No.” Irene blocks her way to the foyer.

“No? I’m almost sixteen, I can take care of myself -”

“You’re a child, Katie, you’re being delusional.”

“I thought you’d rather I was someone else’s problem?” Lola’s lip curled, and Irene glared at her.

“Not if it’s going to make your father think I’m a bad mother.” And her gaze flicks to the photo of Leo kept on the foyer table, next to the candle she always kept lit for him.

Lola’s mouth gaped open as tears pricked her eyes, and she tries to shoulder past.

“I’m going!” Lola tried to insist, but Irene was stronger, and held her back, “you know what? You are!” She shouted, stumbling back, and Irene looked at her, confused, a little hurt, “you’re a terrible fucking mother, you know that? Maybe the reason dad never came back was because you’re a fucking psycho who keeps pushing your problems onto me!” Lola snarled, tears dripping down her cheeks.

For a moment, there’s quiet, and Lola thinks she’s won. Trying to pass Irene again, however, she’s barred when Irene sticks her arm out.

“Take it back.” Irene’s voice is cold as ice, and Lola feels fear curl around her heart, “Katie, you take that back,” and Irene turns to her, but something’s snapped inside her mother’s head, and she shoves Lola back, against the table, against the wall, against the candle. Demanding louder and louder as Lola starts screaming, with flames curling up her back, Irene’s only focused on Lola taking her words back, rather than the pain she’s putting her daughter through.

Only when Irene’s hands start burning, and Lola’s whole back and backpack is alight, does she let go, and Lola collapses. The walls and the curtain are already catching, and it’s only moments before the fire department arrives since one of the neighbors calling them, followed by the police, alerted to the young girl’s screaming.

The trial was nation-wide news, and Lola’s face was printed in newspapers alongside the headline ‘I Was Punished For Having A Soulmark’; even if it was a half-truth, it sold out papers in mere hours. Irene was demonized, and everyone in America loved Lola for all of five minutes. A few other soulmarked people found her through the news, asked her where her soulmark was, and Lola, whose soulmark now was a twisted mess of scarring, along with the rest of her back, offered her hand.

“If you’re my soulmate, it doesn’t matter where you touch me, the mark will be there,” and then she prompted them to shake her hand. They did, but none of them were ever her soulmate.

Frank Ferrana, however, doesn’t watch the news.

He’s seventeen when Lola meets him, covered in tattoos already, along his arms and legs, and a few on his chest, and he’s probably the coolest person she’s ever seen. They’re put into the same group home together, but she can’t bring herself to talk to him at first, too intimidating by him, his tattoos, his leather jackets, the way he smells like smoke and freedom. The ladies at the group home coddle her, and all but wrap her in bubble wrap, and want to know all about her soulmark, and if she’s ever found her soulmate.

“If I had, do you think I’d be here?” Lola asks them over breakfast, voice deadpan. The ladies all look a little guilty, but Frank snorts into his coffee at the other end of the table. He and Lola share a grin, and he gets a little less intimidating in that moment.

He seems to go see bands every other night, and Lola finds herself staying up, waiting for him. Usually she doesn’t make it, falls asleep on the community sofa at about two in the morning, but this time she brings a book.

When he gets back, he gives her an indecipherable look that turns into a smirk, as he makes his unsteady way to the sofa, and collapses down beside her. When he reaches up, his hand gripping her shoulder for support, she thinks more about the pain of tugging at her newly-healed scars, and not of his hand on the exact spot her mark would be, and shrugs him off, readjusting where the shoulder of her shirt had fallen down.

She asks him where he goes, and he’s terribly evasive,

He calls her Katie, like the ladies do, like her mother did, and it grates on her like nails on a chalk board. No-one used her real name apart from her dad, but he was gone. So that’s the night she decides to take back the one thing her father had left her, the nickname only he used. If he ever came back, he’d be coming back to his Lola.

That night, before she gets in bed, she’ll feel her shoulder stinging, and usually after being touched, the stinging goes away after a few moments, but it’s still there. Looking in the mirror, despite the awkward angle, she sees something strange; the record on her shoulder, despite how it’s been disfigured by her scars, is still almost completely the same. Apart from one thing. The record is no longer broken. It’s a complete, black disk with a red label.

Holy shit.

And she remembers Frank’s hand on her shoulder and the burning sensation and -

The next morning, she introduces herself to him as Lola, wearing a grin that’s all teeth, with butterflies in her stomach. She thinks she remembers seeing a Frank on the registry when she’d checked it a few years ago, and this must be him. He must feel it too. In the face of her early morning excitement, he rolls his eyes, and immediately acts like an asshole about her new name; even so, she likes the way he says her name. But he’s still definitely an asshole, acting like nothing happened and nothing changed, so she kicks his bare shin, right in his tacky, little unlit candle tattoo, and storms away, missing the way he immediately yelped like she’d burned him.

If he’s going to act like nothing happened, then so will she. Frank Ferrana isn’t her damn soulmate and that’s fine by her. 

More than likely, he doesn’t even have a soulmate.

Even so, he seems to have taken a liking to her.

He seems to want to be around her more often than not, and finally acquiesces and starts taking her to gigs. They get ready at his friend’s house, Nadine, and from the first moment she opens the door, Nadine also takes a shine to her.

“You’re Miss Lola I’ve heard so much about,” Nadine also does not watch the news, as it turns out, and Frank turns bright at her knowing smile in the face of Lola’s confusion. Everyone knew Katie, but no-one knew Lola. Until now.

Nadine explained that a few years ago, Frank and her brother Joe had been in a band together in Seattle, and Nikki explained the band was the only escape he had from his mother. Nadine and Joe had moved to Boston a year before Frank, and he knew when he ran away from his mom, they’d help him out. Which they did. 

Lola makes a name for herself alongside Frank, as his roadie, slowly becoming his best friend, and much to her own guilt, developing feelings for him. If he wasn’t her soulmate, then it was unfair to her real soulmate if she fell in love with someone else. But Frank’s actually kind of nice to her, and doesn’t treat her like a kid, and yeah, they fool around together, but that’s because they’re young. When one of them is spotted, the other one is never far behind. 

Occasionally she catches him giving her a much gentler look than she’d expect, or he’ll gently trace the edge of her soulmark when it peeks out from the top of her shirt, and she wants to ask him, but can’t find the words. He’s the only person she knows who hasn’t asked about it, apart from Nadine. 

But they leave Nadine, and all of Boston behind, heading for sunny LA, and the first night in the back of the van they now call home, Lola, high as hell, traces the tattoos down his arms.

“You have a lot,” Lola says quietly, and Frank makes an indecipherable noise, but turns and plants a gentle kiss on her soulmarked shoulder. Lola has no idea what to read into that. 

They lie and cheat and steal their way into a barely-livable apartment, but it’s home, and Lola’s thrilled, until Frank brings a girl home and Lola’s left on the sofa, her heart aching and traitorous tears in her eyes. She shouldn’t feel betrayed, he’s not hers, and she’s not his; she’s got someone waiting for her, so getting heartbroken doesn’t even make sense. 

The next day, she’s awake before either of them, up at the crack of dawn since they don’t exactly have curtains to stop the light hitting her on the sofa as it rises. If she sees either of them, she’s pretty sure she’s going to scream, so instead, she decides to speed up destiny, and heads to the public library.

The American Soulmate Registry is publicly accessible, incase people like Lola want to find each other, and each entry lists the person’s full name, year of birth, and state where they were born. It’s far too easy to sort by year of birth, and pick everyone within three years of her. Usually soulmates are close in age, though there are few exceptions, the universe seems to know what’s best. As the list is printing, Lola’s at the front desk asking for a directory. The man at the desk is skeptical, people looking like Lola usually only use the directories to start fires. But then Lola’s pulling at the shoulder of her shirt and batting her eyes.

“Please, I’m looking for my soulmate; you wouldn’t stand in the way of destiny, would you?” She asks, and he’s all but bending over backwards to help her out. Lola thanks him sweetly, and heads to the printer where the list is taking an age to print out. 

One by one, she reads the names, mulling over them; there’s about 59 in her age range, and a few of them sound kind of exciting. Charlotte Lee, 1961, CA; probably not too far away -

Frank Ferrana Jr. 1959. CA.

She rips the paper out of the printer before it can finish the rest of the list, running back to the apartment. 

The woman from the night before is in her kitchen, drinking coffee, and she gives a sleepy smile, but Lola ignores her, heading for the bathroom where she heard the shower running. Kicking in the door, she’s unsurprised by Frank’s angry yell, but she just pulls the curtain to the side and holds up the paper.

“Fucking knock!” Frank tries to pull the curtain back around, but Lola forces it open.

“You have a fucking soulmark?” Lola all but yells, and his expression drops. He blinks slowly. “Why the fuck are you hanging around me if you know you’ve got someone else out there for you?” She asked, “this’ll only end badly!”

“Why are you with me?” He demanded in return, stark naked, glaring, and Lola drops her gaze, pressing her lips together in a thin line.

“Because I-” looking furtively around, Lola spots the girl in the door frame, gawking at the pair of them, “can you fuck off?” The girl’s eyebrows rise, and Lola stalks towards the door, slamming it closed in the girl’s face. Turning back, Frank is still looking at her with an expectant, half-angry expression.

“I’m a masochist, okay? I’m half convinced you’re my soulmate and even if you’re not, I kind of... kind of... I love you, or whatever.”

“You think I’m your soulmate?” Frank’s voice is soft, and Lola finally looks him in the eyes, nervous and raw and vulnerable. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you acted like nothing happened -”

“You acted like nothing happened!” Frank fires back, stepping out of the shower to put his leg up on the sink. Dripping wet, naked, and not exactly in a flattering pose, he gestures to the flame tattooed on his shin. She’d never paid much attention to it amid all the others, but she remembers thinking it was tacky that it was unlit; why would anyone want an unlit candle? But there, a little, orange flame lights the wick at the top of the candle, and when Lola reaches out, she feels how it’s raised, like hers was. 

“Right where you kicked me,” he told her, and Lola’s mouth opened in shock, before scrambling to take off her shirt, to show her tattoo.

“This used to be broken, but you -! The night we first talking, you -” he presses a kiss to the tattoo, kissing his way up her neck to her lips, but she pulls back, eyes wide; “we’re the dumbest people I know.” She whispers, and he snorts a laugh.

“Almost like we’re made for each other.”

And that’s enough for her to kiss him, and now she knows why it feels like it makes sense. 

Things don’t change much after that, not on the surface. Soon, Frank becomes Nikki, and Lola finds herself music that the registry might never know what happened to them, and that she really doesn’t care. Lola gets new tattoos at Nikki’s suggestion. As it turns out, he’d gotten tattoos to distract from his soulmark, so people would stop asking questions, and it works. 

People can’t tell anymore, and Lola’s not the little girl from the news that everyone knew, and she’s so glad to no longer be recognized. All anyone knows is that Nikki and Lola are a package deal, and that if you mess with one, you’re going to bring on the wrath of the other. 

“Did your mom really set you on fire because of this?” Nikki asks, tracing the warped ridges of her tattoo one night. Lola huffed a laugh, pressing her face into her pillow for a moment.

“Not because of it, because of my dad, and... her own delusions, I think,” she mused, “she wanted so badly for me to be someone else’s problem, and growing up, dad would always be taking care of me, but then he died, and she was stuck with this kid who, looking back on it, I think she resented me for taking dad’s attention, but now she couldn’t just ship me off to some stranger, even if they were my soulmate, because everyone would think she’s an awful mother.”

“She sounds awful already-”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, she was atrocious,” Lola agrees, “but the mark was an out for when I was too old for dad to look after, but then he was gone and I was still there.”

“That sucks,” Nikki muttered, wrapping an arm around her, and Lola snuggled up to him, humming in agreement, “my mom always hoped my mark was something she could use, like my soulmate would be some billionaire, and I’d make her rich because she found them or whatever.” He snickers, rolling his eyes. 

“She put adds in papers across the country, basically selling me; people wanted to meet their soulmate so badly that they’d pay her fifty bucks to have me touch them. It sounds a lot worse in hindsight,” his expression sours, and Lola runs her nails in a gentle rhythm up and down his arm.

“What if my mom had seen one of those ads, and we met back then?” Lola asks softly, smiling gently. Nikki blinks for a few moments, coming out of his memories, before looking back at Lola.

“Was your family rich?”

“Not especially; dad owned a little burger joint, but mom ran it into the ground out of spite after he left,” Lola admitted, and Nikki shrugged.

“Then my mom would probably act like nothing happened, even if it did -”

“And my mom would probably insist that I was her problem now.”

“It’s why I ran,” Nikki admitted, “I didn’t want anyone else to be trapped with her, least of all the person who was supposed to love me for the rest of my life, you know?” And Lola sighs, and gives him a nod and a squeeze of support, “I’m glad we met how we did.” He admits.

“Me too,” Lola tells him gently.

When they start to form Motley Crue, only Mick seems to recognize her a little, though he drops it when she asks him to. Looking from Nikki to Lola, he gets a strangely fond, knowing glint in his eye, and looks to Lola with a question in his eyes. Tentatively, Lola gives the slightest smile and nod. Mick blinks a few times, surprised, but can’t help his own smile as he processes the information. 

He doesn’t say anything, and it takes a while for the others to catch on.

It’s almost a full year after the band forms, and they’ve gained considerable traction on The Strip, when Vince and Tommy are clued in.

“I didn’t know tattoos looked so good even after scarring,” Tommy noted during practice, seeing Lola’s record on her shoulder as she moves about the kitchen in a singlet. “Where’d you get it?” 

Lola and Nikki share a look.

“Born with it,” Lola tells him, pulling a cup from the counter and filling it with water. Tommy is dead silent, considering, the cogs in his mind ticking over, frowning with concentration. Lola swallows some pills and follows it with a gulp of water. 

“Are you serious?” Vince asks, catching on much faster than Tommy.

“As a heart attack,” Lola tells him with a slight smile. Nikki makes a noise in the back of his throat and Mick picks out a melody on his guitar.

“So you’re- you’ve got a -?” Vince asks, eyes wide.

“Holy shit, Lols, you’re soulmarked?” Tommy crows, and Lola gives a toothy grin, inclining her head to agree with him. “I’ve never met one in person,” he says, starry-eyed, and Nikki huffs a laugh, “I mean, I have, my cousin’s soulmarked, but like... dude, what are the odds?!” 

“What are the odds?” Lola says gently, looking directly at Nikki, who hides his laugh with a cough, trying not to ruin the bit.

“Have you met them?” Vince asks, he and Tommy looking like eager little puppies to hear more when Lola looks back at them, “your soulmate, I mean.” Mick stops his strumming, giving Lola a long suffering look. Lola, however, looks at Nikki, kinder this time.

“Yeah,” Lola says softly, and Vince and Tommy look like they’re about to explode, “I’m one of the really lucky ones.” 

“You’re killing us here, Lols,” Tommy groans, and Nikki can’t help himself, “who is it? Where are they -?”

“You really think she’d leave her soulmate?” Nikki asked with an amused snort, and the boys turn, eyes wide as saucers. “It’s me, dumbasses.” He confirms, smugly, and there’s silence as the other two process the revelation.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Vince all but yells, but he’s excited, beaming from  ear to ear, “of course you assholes seem like you were made for each other, you literally are!” He crows, and is immediately pestering Nikki to see his tattoo.

“This makes so much sense!” Tommy’s still looking at Lola with wide eyes, before his expression turns sunny. “You guys are so fucking lucky, holy shit!” And Lola grins; yeah, every moment with Nikki, she does tend to feel pretty lucky.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx x oc #the dirt #the dirt imagine #tommy lee #Mick Mars #Vince Neil #the angry lizard writes

[maulsscream]

(gif by lilkisara)

REUNIONS Maul x Ahsoka

I said I’d write it and I did! The last episode was absolutely amazing and put a lot of things in perspective. I love Maul and Ahsoka with all my heart. Their motives and final show down was perfect for the ending. Yes I wanted a team up but this creates a whole other layer of perfection added to their characters.

Short and sweet :3c

SUMMARY Rated G - 1,425 words

They meet again on Malachor by chance or fate, neither of them really knows. It’s been almost two decades and still, the ache is there.

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

“You.”

Ahsoka was filled with anger. Had she not had Kanan and Ezra at her side, she wouldn’t have held herself back from killing the former Sith there and then. As she should have all those years ago when he had stolen the shuttle. By all accounts, he should have been dead. All those years later, Kenobi’s words echoed in her head. He was difficult to kill.

“You survived?”

Maul’s distorted smile grew wider as he turned around to face her, the Sith Inquisitors disappearing further into the temple. She had beaten all the odds that were stacked against her. Truth be told, Maul had assumed he had been the sole survivor of Order 66. It made sense really. He didn’t care enough to stick around to watch a ship be swallowed by a moon’s gravity. To his knowledge, she had been dead before they even reached the atmosphere.

When Maul had climbed up into the shuttle and escaped into hyperspace, he held no remorse towards his actions. After all, she had asked for chaos. His kind of chaos. She had asked him to play his role and Maul had taken his part to heart. He had followed orders. Good soldiers follow orders, do they not? Indirectly, she had sent him to march down that hallway and meet death. She hadn’t shown him any mercy or any kindness, so why should he have?

With a shout of rage, Ahsoka charged him like a fury, her lightsabers trailing behind her. She raised them up and they clashed in a blinding shock of light. It forced Maul to back up in a defensive stance, his leg extending back for balance. She pressed on, making him take a few more steps backwards. She slammed her blades into his double-edged lightsaber again with enough force that he stumbled backwards, taken by surprised at the speed and force of her action. His back bumped against the wall and he quickly brought the weapon up again to protect himself from another onslaught. She wanted to kill him, it was clear enough by the blazing look in her eyes and the way she wasn’t holding back. He had seen that grimace on her face once before. Ahsoka had been pushed beyond her breaking point by the mere sight of him.

The sheer force of her strikes spoke of all the resentment, ache and loss she had suffered over the years. Fair play. But Maul had suffered as well. The zabrak snarled, holding off the pressure of their weapons so that it wouldn’t cut his head clean off of his shoulders. He had suffered partial loss before but he doubted this was one he could recover from.

Their lightsabers locked with each other. It forced Maul in an awkward position, the buzzing of the weapons ringing in his ears and the white heat lapping at his throat. In the light of their blades, he could see tears forming in her eyes. She hadn’t been a Jedi for a long, long time. She was letting her emotions go through her freely, using them to fuel her. To Maul, it only made her more human.

“You should have died on that ship.”

Ahsoka said lowly through gritted teeth so that only he would here. Something about Maul made her ashamed. She hadn’t meant to snap in front of her companions. Thankfully, Kanan understood. After all, he had lived through the Clone Wars if only for a brief period. He had seen his master die in front of him just so that he might have a chance to escape. If there was bad blood between the former Sith and former Jedi, it would be settled here. No matter the outcome.

“So should you have, Lady Tano.”

Maul replied aggressively, using his robotic foot to kick her in the stomach and give himself more room to manoeuvre. When Ahsoka had raced him for the only way off the sinking Destroyer, he had finally seen her true colours. War had changed her. It had changed both of them, and yet her opinion of him hadn’t changed. He was a selfish, stubborn, and cruel half-droid scum.

“Well it wasn’t for a lack of trying on your part, was it? I gave you your freedom!”, Ahsoka shouted back, her chest heaving heavily and her voice breaking with emotion.

They stood apart in silence, weapons lowered at their sides while they sized each other up. Freedom? Surely she didn’t believe those words. Surely she was trying to save face in front of the others. There had been no motives other than her escape as to why she had let him out of his cell. Ahsoka Tano wanted her and her trooper friend to survive and live. If it meant sacrificing someone who she didn’t think deserved her mercy, so be it. Her plans had been to bring him to Coruscant for justice. But with no one left to assess his case, it had been easy for her to make a decision. No matter how wrong she knew it was deep inside. She had thought of Empress Sabine. Qui-gon. Finn Ertay. And all those nameless civilians he had killed. They weren’t just casualties, they were victims. They deserved justice for Maul’s crimes and she would be the hammer that brought it down upon him.

“How noble of you! You’re no different than your masters... Just as self-serving and delusional. What were your words again? I’m not rooting for you?”

She gave another cry as they charged each other and clashed. Their weapons were quickly discarded, flying across the dusty floor of the temple and at the Jedi’s feet. The pair of them tumbled onto the floor, kicking and punching to gain dominance. Maul gained the upper hand, locking her arms behind her back.

“I gave you countless opportunities to save yourself.”, he snarled down.

“You know I would never trust a Sith.”

Her words were seething with hatred. So that’s all he had ever been to her. A Sith. Even after the order had abandoned him, after his master had replaced him over and over, after he had lost his entire family to the Sith, that’s all he would ever add up to. This was how everyone saw him. A Sith. It made Maul’s blood boil, more so than usual. So be it. He would utilise the emotions swirling like a storm inside him just like his master had taught him. He would exact his revenge, as promised.

“You’ve made that quite clearly, padawan.”

Using the Force, Ahsoka shoved Maul off of her, holding him down onto the floor in front of her as she rose to her feet and dusted herself. She was in pain, both physically and emotionally. Seeing Maul only opened old wounds she was certain had healed.

“I’m tired of fighting... especially you.”

She whispered out of breath. Even if her eyes were focused on him, he could tell she was looking past him. The girl he had meet in the tunnels of Mandalore didn’t exist anymore. She had lived through and seen too much to have remained the same, unlike him. Maul took pride in his suffering, used it as both a shield and a weapon. Ahsoka ran away from it.

She had run all her life. From people, from her feelings, from who she’d become. She had lost sense of what it truly meant to be herself. To serve a purpose that wasn’t meddled and sullied by war and men. No more. She was free.

“Trust me, my Lady, so am I...”

There was truth in his voice, although Ahsoka wasn’t sure he had spoken at all. The question remained. If she didn’t want to fight him anymore but also didn’t trust him... why had she let him slip through her fingers? What had happened between the trooper and her? What had become of him? He must have meant a great deal to her.

Maul pulled himself up, one hand holding the structure behind him. He chuckled at the absurdity of his words which cued Ahsoka to do the same. It was an emotionless reaction to their display of force. There would never be trust between them, the mere thought of it was as ridicule as it had been before the Republic even fell.

“I could never trust a Sith.”, Ahsoka repeated.

“It’s a good thing I relinquished that title long ago then.”

In the corner of her eyes, she could see the smirk she had learnt to be wary of. What was he getting to?

#maulsoka #maul #ahsoka tano #ahsoka #darth maul #sw rebels #star wars rebels #tcw #tcw s7 #the clone wars #fics

[fe8meta]

I love how there’s no way to save Lyon and that is something that both twins have to deal with (although I do resent the implication that their friendship with him had a hand in his downfall), which is implied by the fact that Lyon was already susceptible to Fomortiis even before they parted ways due to his use of the Sacred Stone. Morva’s conversation with him, in Ephraim’s route, tells us that he’s deluded and beyond saving, and all Morva can do is put him to rest. (1/2)

Even the tone of his final conversation with the twins seems to be coloured by their nature. Ephraim is almost in tears, raving, and saying that he can save him, while Lyon urges him to smile like he used to, rather than acknowledging his grief and accepting it, reflecting his delusional nature, while Eirika!Lyon begs her to kill him (this one is up for interpretation though) to stop him, and is pretty honest despite everything. Personally I prefer Ephraim’s. It’s more powerful to me. (2/2)

Er, Lyon’s final words to Eirika are that he was always in love with her (and that he didn’t have the courage to confess before). I think you’re confusing it with the start-of-chapter cutscene.

I found Eirika’s more interesting for its potential -- the unreliability of the narration, and how... distant Ephraim is in her route. He has no eagerness to save Lyon. When she approaches Lyon in his final moments, Ephraim’s words are a warning. (Meanwhile, Eirika all but ceases to exist in Ephraim’s route. Perhaps she has accepted that Lyon is not the person from her past and has resolved to stop this mess he’s caused... and that’s why Fomortiis didn’t use that tactic on her.)

In her route, however, she is adamant that she’s talking to the “real” Lyon, when we readers know that Lyon supposedly only has a “shard” of awareness. By the end of Chapter 20 he can’t even form words, let alone go on his whole monologue at the start of the Final Chapter. (Even Eirika catches on there that something’s not quite right.)

So while Ephraim who gives an emotional outburst of desperation, Eirika is no less colored by her emotions. Even after everything she’s gone through, she still believes that the “real” Lyon is there (and that he can be completely separate from Fomortiis). This is what makes her teeter on becoming Lyon II in her ending, where she ever so briefly contemplates doing the exact thing he did. Ephraim’s concern is almost tangible in that moment, but luckily he dissuades her from her path. Lyon was surrounded by people who shared his vision and failed to stop him from his path.

By the time I finish my Fomortiis meta, I’ll already have said everything in it on everything else I write.

#FE8 #magvel #eirika #ephraim #lyon #character meta #anonymous #asks

[mullettj]

in your bloodstream (a collision of atoms)

a tyrus spider-man au

chapter one: leap of faith

next chapter →

-

Cyrus is terrified of heights. So terrified, in fact, that when he was a kid and he'd go to the playground for recess he couldn't even swing higher than a foot off the ground without sweating from sheer panic.

So it's really unfortunate that he's currently standing halfway off the edge of the roof of the 10-story building he lives in.

How did he get here? He isn't entirely sure. In a metaphorical sense, anyway. He knows how he got here in a literal sense; he just took the stairs to the top floor (three floors directly above his apartment, to be specific) and then walked out onto the roof like it didn't immediately make him hyperventilate. Like he isn't still hyperventilating as he looks out at the city skyline, listening to the cars rushing below him. God, he's so high up.

The why he ended up here is a lot more confusing. Long story short, he landed this amazing internship at a prestigious research facility downtown, and it was super fun and he learned a lot, not to mention it'll look great on college applications, but that's not the important part. The thing that actually changed his life happened on the last day of the semester, his last time stepping foot in the lab.

Up to that point, they hadn't actually let him handle any of the specimens, mostly because they were afraid of letting some high school kid mess with stuff and accidentally ending up with a contaminated vial or something. But, on the last day, Cyrus was taking a picture with his attending researcher for their website, and he begged their supervisor to let him hold one of the spiders he'd been helping monitor for the past four months. The supervisor agreed after a lot of heckling, as long as they kept the spider contained in one of the little glass boxes they use to transport the specimens.

Except the dumb thing got out of its fucking box. Cyrus has no idea how, but one second it was safe in its tiny glass prison and the next it was sinking its stupid sharp fangs into the webbing of his hand between his thumb and pointer finger. Obviously he didn't let anyone know what happened, just shook it back into the box and held it closed tighter, but at this moment he's kind of wishing he would've made a bigger deal out of it because that spider bite has prompted some really concerning changes in his body.

And like, he knows correlation does not equal causation, okay? He literally just got done shadowing one of the best researchers in the country, and even before that he had enough common sense to realize that just because it looks too straightforward to be a coincidence doesn’t mean it isn’t. Sometimes weird shit just happens.

But not shit this weird. He woke up the next day considerably taller than he was before (which really just means he's average height now, because he's always been on the small side) and way more athletic than his level of physical activity could ever account for. He has actual biceps now, what the fuck. He isn't entirely sure why a spider bite would suddenly turn him into a jock (at least physically, anyway) but, well. Here he is.

And if that wasn't convincing enough, there's also the fact that he basically turned into a human spider. He doesn't have eight limbs, or anything, but he's definitely a lot better at climbing walls than physics should allow and suddenly he can shoot webbing out of his wrists. He doesn't really get why it comes out of his wrists, of all places, but that particular detail is pretty low on his list of priorities right now.

He also gets this weird tingly feeling every now and then, almost like a hunch but so much stronger, like his brain just knows when something bad is going to happen, even if nothing seems awry at the time. Like he doesn't have enough anxiety as it is. It’s kind of freaking him out.

Fast forward two weeks, and here he is, standing on top of his building in the least form-fitting hoodie he could find in an attempt to hide as much of himself as possible. His logic for doing this is - well, he doesn't really know. Maybe it's that stupid sixth sense he has that told him to jump off a building. In hindsight he's never been sure he should listen to it, but right now he's wondering if it's actively trying to get him killed. Can hunches get people killed? Is this even comparable to a hunch? Maybe he's hearing shit, maybe he needs to ask his shrink parents about this.

His (quickly derailing) train of thought is interrupted by a soft thump off to his right, and when he turns he sees some dude in spandex walking toward him. He’s wearing a red suit, with a ripped up blue hoodie over it, and a big black spider on his chest. The sleeves of the hoodie are cut off, but the hood is still intact and flipped up over the guy’s head. Cyrus doesn't know why he bothered with the hood, really, because he's wearing a mask anyway so it's not like it's doing anything to hide his face like Cyrus hopes his own hood is. He's also got a belt wrapped around his waist and matching cuffs on his wrists, plus little pouches strapped to his ankles, and Cyrus doesn't know how to feel about that one. He could have anything in there.

By the time Cyrus is done ogling him and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on, the guy is standing right in front of him. “Hey, dude, you don't wanna do this,” he says softly. “Or I mean, you do, I guess, but you shouldn't.”

Cyrus looks at him like he's insane, which he probably is, all things considered. “Who even are you?” he asks, instead of addressing any of the larger issues at hand. Like what this guy thinks he's doing on a roof. Or why he's wearing so much spandex. Or where he came from.

“Oh, fuck, my bad. I’m the Scarlet Spider.” He sticks his hand out, which Cyrus takes tentatively. The Scarlet Spider uses this opportunity to pull Cyrus off the edge and into his arms.

Cyrus huffs. “Could you please let me go?” he asks as he struggles to get out of the Scarlet Spider’s grip. It's a futile attempt. The dude is way stronger than he looks.

“Nope,” he says, popping the “p” like the annoying little shit he seems to be. “Not till you promise you won't jump.”

That's when it clicks. Cyrus rolls his eyes. “Oh my god, you think I’m trying to kill myself?”

The Scarlet Spider hesitates for a half a second before going back to normal. Or what Cyrus guesses is normal for him, anyway. “Aren't you?” His eyes get wide as he realizes how that sounds. “Awh shit - no, wait, I didn't mean it like that! I just, I heard there was someone up here trying to jump, and I don't know why else somebody would want to jump off a fucking building so I thought -”

Cyrus rolls his eyes again. He’s starting to think the Scarlet Spider might be an idiot. “I’m not trying to commit suicide, god. I was just -” He cuts himself off, realizing how delusional he'll sound if he tells the truth. “And wait, even if I did want to kill myself, you did a horrible job of trying to talk me down.”

The Scarlet Spider squints at him for a good thirty seconds before he says anything. “Look, dude, I don't do this a lot. Usually I just beat up muggers and shit, I don't know how to keep people from hurting themselves.”

“Well clearly you should learn, because if you ever meet anyone who's actually suicidal, talking to you is only gonna make them want to jump more.”

“Damn, you're sassy. I like that.” The Scarlet Spider finally lets him go, and Cyrus considers bolting right then and there but he thinks that would probably be really conspicuous. The Scarlet Spider takes a couple steps back, giving Cyrus some space, and folds his arms. “So tell me, what were you trying to do?”

Cyrus still doesn't know how to answer that. He weighs his options, glancing from the Scarlet Spider to the edge of the rooftop and back again. He takes a deep breath. “I think I might be like you.”

He can actually see the Scarlet Spider’s eyebrows shoot up underneath his mask, which should be impossible but there it is. “Like me? You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Something dawns on Cyrus then. “Is that hoodie from Jefferson?” It's the exact same blue as Cyrus’ high school’s colours.

The Scarlet Spider takes a step closer, frowning. “Why?”

Cyrus shrugs. “If it is, then we go to the same school.”

“So?��

“So, we have a lot more in common than you may think.”

The Scarlet Spider sighs, tapping his foot against the gravel. “You're being really cryptic. Just tell me what you mean. How are you like me? And how the fuck would you know that anyway? You don't even know me.” He's getting defensive. Whoops. Maybe Cyrus shouldn't have pried so much.

Cyrus decides the best way to clear things up is to show him, so he runs to the edge of the roof and jumps.

He’s not even a foot in the air before the Scarlet Spider is tackling him, shooting a web and swinging them both back to safety on the roof of a different building. “I thought you said you didn't wanna jump!” He's clearly distressed, and refuses to let Cyrus go despite his struggling.

“I never said that, I said I didn't wanna die.”

“That's the same thing!” the Scarlet Spider protests, exasperated. Cyrus figures he probably doesn't have this much trouble convincing people to let him save them, for the most part.

“No, it really isn't. Just let me go and I'll show you.”

The Scarlet Spider eyes him, searching Cyrus’ face for any hint at what the fuck is going on. Eventually, he nods. “Fine. But I’m gonna save you, so brace yourself.”

Cyrus rolls his eyes again, moving the Scarlet Spider’s arms out of the way so he can walk to the edge of the roof. This building is taller than his apartment building, and he's stressed as all fuck, but if he doesn't do this now then he never will. He has the Scarlet Spider to save him if anything goes wrong, so now is the best time to be reckless.

Cyrus jumps. And for a split second, he thinks he might actually die. He's so high up, and the street below is so far away, and if he fell from this height there would be no coming back from that. But then he looks up, and he sees the endless sky, the lights of the city sparkling above him, and he thinks maybe this isn't so scary. Especially not when he locks eyes with the Scarlet Spider, who looks about a nanosecond away from jumping out to catch Cyrus and save him again.

It's now or never. Cyrus’ eyes dart around, searching for anything to aim at, and his gaze lands on a building off to the left that's about the same height as the one he just jumped off of. He sees the Scarlet Spider in his periphery, leaping off the roof to come save him, but Cyrus is already shooting a web at the building in front of him and swinging through the air right at the roof ahead.

He hears the Scarlet Spider whooping in surprise, and he can't make out the words but that's mostly because he's too busy laughing from the sheer adrenaline of it all. He's never felt this free. He's never let himself be this free before.

Unfortunately, that becomes pretty obvious once he realizes that he isn't going to clear the rooftop. He didn't get the angle of his swing right, or maybe he didn't shoot the web high enough, but either way he's headed straight for a window. He braces himself for impact.

“Underdog!” he hears the Scarlet Spider yell, and suddenly he’s pushing Cyrus up higher as he swings in from behind.

He flies up, and the Scarlet Spider shouts at him to shoot a new web. He aims higher this time, and it connects, and then Cyrus is landing lightly on his feet on a new rooftop and taking a deep breath and he can see the whole city and it's absolutely magical.

“That was exhilarating!” he yells as the Scarlet Spider lands beside him. Cyrus almost wants to hug him, but he doesn't.

“So that's what you meant when you said you're like me?” the Scarlet Spider asks, and Cyrus nods, beaming at him. “You wanna be a hero?”

Cyrus purses his lips in thought. “I mean, I didn't really plan on trying it, but...I didn't really plan on any of this.”

The Scarlet Spider shrugs, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie, which are uneven. “You don't have to, but you might as well use it. This shit will make you restless real fast if you don't channel it somehow.”

Cyrus cocks his head, and he really looks at the Scarlet Spider for the first time. Maybe he does want to know more about him. “Will you teach me?” isn't what he plans to say, but his brain is too adrenaline flooded to really filter his thoughts properly.

“Of course I will, Underdog.” The Scarlet Spider sounds almost fond when he says it.

Cyrus shakes his head. “My name's Cyrus. Cyrus Goodman, maybe you know me from school?”

The Scarlet Spider freezes for a second, then he's walking toward Cyrus with a weirdly determined stance and Cyrus is stressed out again because what the fuck is he about to do?

He's definitely not expecting the Scarlet Spider to throw back his hood, pull his mask off and say, “Hey, Cyrus. I’m TJ Kippen. You might know me as captain of the basketball team.”

This night really could not get any weirder.

#tyrus #crossposting this for tyrus week bc i have no new content lmao #my fic #shut up ash #andi mack