#my boy said his wrists were bothering him yesterday and apologized for being slow to reply to my texts

[travellingarmy]

║Diluc║Adopted

Requested from Wattpad.

Child, male reader. Completely platonic.

Fluff.

Word count: 2.2k

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You don't know where you came from and neither did he, but that question doesn't linger on for too long, allowing yourselves to enjoy in each other's presence.

He wasn't one to have an interest in taking care of children, but ever since he found you in a woven basket in Wolvendom, he made you the centre of his life.

"Diluc, I want to train today!" Barging into his office, you greet him an enthusiastic- yet loud- morning, slamming the door wide open to create a booming sound that Diluc no longer gets a fright out of. "Can we go outside today? Please, please, please?"

He looks up from his paper to eye your person before returning his attention to the paper. "We can go out today, but it will be to the tavern. I have something to do."

You pout and slumped onto a nearby chair, your ears slightly drooping down like the hybrid dog you are. There were few people who had an animal appearance like you and perhaps that might have had been the reason he was drawn to you.

"I said I want to train, not follow you on your errands!" head snapping up as you whined. Diluc slowly closes his eyes and sighs, quite tired from the work yesterday and the added work today. However, he knows how persistent you were and how you would get annoying by the day that even Adelinde starts to get a headache. With that knowledge, he stood up shortly and looks towards your petite frame.

Your eyes sparkled and a child-like smile forms on your face, knowing what he'll say next. "Did you have breakfast already?" Diluc asks, although it was nearly afternoon, and you nod almost immediately. "Then we'll go out and quickly visit the tavern. Afterwards, we can practise your archery." If he was going to shut you up while doing his work, this method was always effective.

You hop off the couch and rushed towards the red-head, grabbing his hand and allow him to lead the way.

Although he adopted you, he did not put himself as your father on the paper and asked of you to call him by his name only, but that didn't matter to you.

You bid Adelinde goodbye and outside, you took big leaps, excited to get on with archery. "(Y/N), slow down. You'll trip and then we'll fall," Diluc points out, slightly bending as he chases after you, trying to keep up in the light of your steps.

You slowed down, walking at a more comfortable pace. For you, stamina was everything but since Diluc wasn't a child, he couldn't go as fast as you wanted. "Sorry, Diluc."

However, throughout that walk, you did stray from time to time, sometimes letting go of his hand to peek what could have been hiding in rustling bushes. "(Y/N), come back here," he would say, gaining your attention back to his side.

Upon entering the gates, a particular someone just had to show up. "Oho~ Fancy meeting you here, Master Diluc," the all too familiar Cavalry Captain greets, souring Diluc's day. Kaeya's smirk stretched a bit, looking quite smug as his eyes move from him and to your petite stature.

"And good morning, (Y/N). Are you here to run errands with Master Diluc?" He asks with a close-eyed smile, ignoring the murderous aura coming from his brother as he leans down to your level, hands on his thighs.

You nod. "I want to learn how to charge my arrow like Fish lady!" you say with a gleam. Kaeya stares dumbfoundedly at you before finally realizing that you were referring to Fischl from the Adventurer's Guild. "Oh, I see That's some intense training, but I'm sure that you can pull it off." He ruffles your hair and chuckles.

"Sir Kaeya, as a captain, you have an awful lot of time to waltz around lazily," Diluc comments, his grip on your hand tightening, but not too hard that it would hurt. This comment's venom flies by over the aforementioned male as he chuckles, shrugging. "What can I say? I'm sure you're well aware that Grand Master Varka has taken all of my knights. Who am I supposed to captain?"

You mused at the two brothers' bickering silently and see that Diluc's eyebrows were twitching-- most likely from the annoyance his brother is giving him. "But as a knight, you should have at least something to do."

"I do, and that's speaking to (Y/N)," he says. "It is a knight's duty to make sure the people are safe and so, I am speaking with him to make sure he isn't being forced into training by you. You know how wrong that is, don't you, Master Diluc?"

"Tch. I'm well aware. And on that note, I believe you're more capable of doing that than I," Diluc crosses his arms as he spoke. It was getting to the point that your feet were starting to annoy you. Standing still was not something you like doing. "Diluc, can we go now?" You tug on the hem of his coat with your free hand and pouted slightly.

This got both of the brothers' attention and they looked at each other. "Apologies, but we have to go now. You know how children are," Diluc says, feeling quite happy.

"Aw, (Y/N), doesn't want to stay with me?" Kaeya pouts. You shook your head and smiled. "I want to train!" you voiced. Kaeya hums in acknowledgement. "Hm, I see. Then, I won't keep little (Y/N) too long. But promise me you'll play with me next time." He offers his pinky finger and you took it, lacing your smaller pinky. "I promise!"

After that, Diluc tugs you along lightly, not wanting to stay anywhere near the captain, heading towards the tavern to speak with a waited person. "(Y/N), you sit here, okay? Don't stray away." Diluc says and helps you up on one of the chairs outside. You nod, swinging your legs that dangle off of the chair. Diluc stares at you and shows a small smile, ruffling your hair, and then walking off.

You were left alone, but not truly alone as you see Diluc not too far from you, talking to a man who looked wealthy themselves. It was probably a business negotiation of some sort, but you were too young to be bothered by trivial matters that did not involve you.

"Hey, hey, look at him." Whispers. To an average person, they wouldn't be able to hear it, but you weren't, and so, you heard children whispering behind you. It was also evident that they were talking about you as you heard another whisper, "He has doggy ears. I want one."

You thought they would just talk like every other person, but that thought was dismissed when you hear light footsteps coming your way. You turned your head to look down at the other children. There were two boys and a girl. The girl was most likely younger than you and the boys were older-- older than yourself. They look like trouble, you thought to yourself.

"Hey, you!" The first one to speak was one of the two boys. He has jet-black hair and wore thick glasses. You hopped off of your seat and stare at them silently, waiting for them to continue. "Is that thing on your head real?"

"Uh, yeah, it is," you answered, getting off from the chair to have a proper conversation with them. It was a common question asked to you that you lost count of how many times someone came up to you and ask.

"I don't believe it," he voiced, crossing his arms and lookin smug. "Yeah, let us touch it," the second one spoke. Your brows slightly furrows. Who were these kids and why were they suddenly asking to touch your ears? Yeah, sure it was strange and not human-like, but who gave these kids courage to spew words like that?

"Sorry, but they're really sensitive.." you state, your brows slightly furrowing. "Oh, please. I bet you're just saying that because it's actually fake!" Without warning, he reached for your ears and tug it harshly and you yelped at the pain. "Woaaah! Did you glue it onto your head? You're so weird."

"Please, let go." You knew how much stronger you were compared to average children, seeing as you had a vision and was trained to combat and so, you didn't dare use force to get him to pull away, wrapping both of your tiny hands on the wrist outstretched to you. Diluc always reminded you to never harm others. "Please, let go!" you repeated, slightly louder than before. Water started to form on the corner of your eyes the more he pulled on your ears.

In response to your distress, your vision glowed and sent a tiny shock of electro from your hands that held onto his. It wasn't harmful, but just enough to make the kid hiss and stumble back. "H, hey, what did you do to him?" The girl reached for her friend, looking at the hand that had a slight purple to it from you.

And to make matters worst, an older woman came running towards you four, seemingly to be one of their mother. "What's going on here?" the lady asks. "Mommy, look what he did to me!" the boy showed his wrist with tears on his face.

With one look at it, the lady turns towards you. "Excuse me, do you have any idea what you just did?" "I asked him if his ears were real and he suddenly attacked me!" Liar. He was lying, but you had no one to back your claims.

She huffs. "How dare you! How would you like it if someone were to do that to you." She reached her long, slender arms for your wrist. "Where are your parents? I'll have them know how naughty you are." Grabbing your wrist, she tries and drags you from your spot.

"That won't be necessary." Just in time, Diluc came back with the same, glaring-like expression on his face. The woman's eyes widened and with a gasp, let's go of your wrist. "Master Diluc?" she calls.

Diluc looks at the woman and to the children, inspecting the wrist that had been bruised. He had heard the conversation from where he stood and sped up his meeting with the person.

"Tell me what happened?" he asks, eyes returning their attention to the woman. "Well, this brat here injured my child and I was about to look for his parents."

"Oh, really? (Y/N), don't tell me you've forgotten what I told you about using your vision?" Although when he asks this, he already knows the answer. You shook your head. "I didn't mean to hurt them, I promise! They were pulling in my ears and.." Your voice grew weaker into silence, drooping your head down, thinking that he wouldn't buy your excuses.

Diluc sees this and immediately kneels down to your level, putting a hand on your shoulders and gain your attention. "Hey, look up. If you know that you are in the right, there is  nothing you should shy away from," his voice was low and spoke softly to you.

Your eyes brightened up a bit and Diluc smiled-- not showing it though. He lifts you off of the ground, putting and arm under you for support as the other went on your back.

The lady was confused but most importantly, scared. "If you're looking for his guardian, you're speaking to them," Diluc spoke, eyes glued on you whilst the words directed to her. "But before you do that, demand the truth from your son." With that, he walked away, leaving the mother to ask what really happened while he comforted you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and bury your face on his shoulders, trying hard not to let a single tear slip. You idolized Diluc for his skills in combat and his ability to never cry and so, you didn't like crying. It made you feel weak and nowhere near to become like Diluc.

"Hey, it's alright." He rubs your back, noticing your shaking body trying hard not to cry. "It's okay to cry, but don't cry for foolish people. You'll just give them what they want." In moments like these, you see Diluc as a father with his comforting words and life lectures.

You hummed and became silent. Yes, you can't cry for those types of people, you comfort yourself. Taking a deep breath, you peel yourself from his shoulders and showed him the smile that he would never admit he loves to see. A smile that gives others strength with the look of fire in your eyes.

"Alright, do you want to train now?" he asks, slightly smiling. You nod, but stopped yourself. "Wait, don't you still have other things to do?" you ask, to which Diluc ruffles your hair with his free hand. "Those can wait tomorrow. I could use some rest right now."

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#diluc fluff #diluc x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact oneshots #male reader #kaeya #kaeya alberich #diluc oneshot #fluff #fischl #genshin fischl

[vogueinnie]

✍︎︎ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐖 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

       ━ WARNINGS ;  fem!reader, age gap (reader is 20 and seungmin is 27), mention of cigarettes, smut (focused on the reader’s pleasure), oral (f.), everything is just fluffy and awkward, kinda love at first sight      ━ WORD COUNT ; 2.2k      ━ NOTE ; feedback are so welcomed!!

“At your brother’s work ?!” You clear your throat and apologize for being loud, giving Yeji, your bestfriend, a death glare.

You were supposed to go at her house but, as clumsy as she is, she forgots the keys… in the house. You had two options ; go back to your own, which means procrastinating and giving zero fucks about your homeworks, or go to her brother’s work to take back the keys.

“Hum, yeah… But, there’s a little something… He needs his keys to close the shop, so… we have to work there…” Second death glare. “But you know him, he don’t give a fuck as long as we’re not noisy ! And his co-worker is cool too, I promise.”

You were friend with Yeji since you were a child. Of course you knew her old brother, Hyunjin was such a nice guy. He may seems cold on the outside but he has the warmest personality and had always made you feel like his own little sister even tho you haven’t seen him in a while, due to school.

You sighed at Yeji’s puppy eyes, nodding, knowing that you’ve already lost the battle. She was the best negociator.

That’s how you ended up in front of one of the most famous tattoo shop in your city. Indeed, Hyunjin was the owner of it with his long-time friend. They both were tattoo artists since more or less 2 years. According to Yeji, he was drawing before learning how to talk so it seems pretty logical for him to work in something artistic.

Without knowing why you felt a little bit uneasy, asking the blonde girl if she’s totally sure that it won’t bother Hyunjin and his friend to have you there. You were just students and for adults aged 27-28 years it could be annoying to hear you talk about your lessons. But she was quick to reassure you, even showing you her texts with her brother through her phone.

“Hyunjin ! We’re here !”

As soon as you entered the shop Yeji screamed at his brother and you clap your hand to her forehead.

“Shush ! What if he’s wor- “

“Hello to the prettiest girl heeeeere. No, Yeji, I’m not talking about you, you ugly rat.”

Your smile was immediate after the blond-haired and obviously tattooed boy puts you into a warm hug, patting your head while poking his tongue to his young sister, like the very 28 years old matured adult he is. He had no customers at the moment, and he was just working on some new design, but you can still hear some little machine noises so you guess his friend was tattoing someone in the practice room.

“It’s been a really long time Y/N, how are you ? C’mon, have a sit. Y’all need to work on your classes ? You can sit there, I’m just here, he shows you the sofa right beside the table with his index, if you need anything. You’re at home, here. Seungmin will be over in maybe fourteen minutes so you have time to work.”

You both nod in unision, sitting on the chairs to starts working on an unfinished cases while Hyunjin was giving you two glasses of water to finally go back to focus on his drawings. Yeji and you were sharing ideas, writing and making some researches on your respective laptops. No breaks were allowed unless you’ve finished what you’ve started.

“Maybe we should add the fact that... Hey, Seungmin !” Yeji’s smile was wide and she greets someone behind you, shaking her hands.

Politely, you turn around to face the one you’re supposed to be Hyunjin’s co-worker, Seungmin. You hold back your jaw from dropping on the ground the moment your eyes met his.

He was, honestly, the most beautiful human being you have ever seen. His dark purple hair where falling onto his forehead in a delicate way, covering half of his dark brown and absolutely magnetic eyes. His pretty nose was pierced with a silver ring and his lips were as pink as your burning cheeks. His broad shoulders were hidden in a large black t-shirt and at this right moment your eyes were glued to his inked forearms. Of course you’ve already seen inked people, Hyunjin was one of them, but him…There was something special about him.

“Hello ? Is anybody here ? Youhou, are you alive ?” You heard Hyunjin while he was moving his hands in front of Seungmin’s eyes causing you to cut the contact between the two of us.

Apparently, he was gazing in your eyes too.

“Yeah… yeah, sorry I was just thinking about... you know... stuffs. Hey, Yeji, you good?“ Even his voice was soft and smooth, almost honey-like. He comes closer to the desk you were working on so you immediately stand up, bowing down respectfully and you realized how taller he was compared to you. “Who are you ?”

You frowned your eyebrows, almost agape by his suddenly cold voice and distant attitude. Your eyes can’t no longer detach from each other, and you open slowly your mouth. Everything about him was fascinating, from his lack of expression to the way he was nervously playing with his fingers. Well, you supposed it was nervosity.

“I... I’m Y/N. I’m Yeji’s friend, I’m sorry if we’ve disturb you.”

He hums and nods, leaning over you to take his cigarettes pack and you gulp silently at your sudden proximity. His strong and wooded scent was all around you, making you melt. You had the perfect view on the two black eyes drawn on his throat and you almost felt judged by them from acting like a teenager. It felt like they were staring into your soul, knowing your deepest secrets.

But the most humiliating part was probably the Hwang’s suggestive look on you.

—————————————✰ —————————————

You were so stupid. Nobody could be dumber than you. You were at the highest rank of stupidity. Idiot was your second name.

You sigh, dry throat and shaking hands. You were at the front door of Hyunjin and Seungmin’s tattoo shop. Alone. Indeed, yesterday your brain wasn’t working like usual, thanks to one particular man, and you forgot your phone there. Yes, your phone. You were that distracted. It was 2pm and Yeji couldn’t come with you cause she had classes, but you didn’t. And you really needed your phone after almost a day without it.

You came into the shop, looking all around you to realize that Hyunjin wasn’t here. Seungmin was staring at you from across the room, coming closer to you with your treasure in his hand, and you had forget for a moment how much his inked hands looks like. You stare at the pretty heart drawn on his thumb, the long black line on his major digit and the word “ LOVE “ on his wrist. You were so focused that you almost forgot about your phone.

“You like them ?” You jump at his slow voice and you can feel your cheeks burning instantly. Were you really that dumb to fix your eyes on his hands ? “You can touch them, if you want.”

He puts your phone on the table near you, holding out his two hands in front of you. It was almost sureal. Two adults, standing in front of each other awkardly. You can’t hide the excited smile to grows on your lips and with softness you touch his tattoos with the tip of your index finger, retracing them as if it was a pen. You were surprised by the softness of his pretty skin.

“They are so pretty... You points at a cute little smiley on his other hand. This one is my favorite ! You hear him chuckles, looking at you with such fondly eyes you were so destabilized. You back off him when you realize the situation, biting your lips. I’m sorry... I... I was just... I mean, you know, my phone...”

“You can stay. He said quickly. Hyunjin isn’t here and I have no appointment. I’ve heard you were working on some juridic cases yesterday and I... Well, I have a master in law, so I was wondering maybe I can help you ?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, first cause he was offering you to stay with him, alone, and second cause he has done the same studies as you, something you wouldn't have thought of.

The both of you were then sitting in the sofa, casually talking as if you knew each other since forever. You’ve discovered that he didn’t wants to be a lawyer but his parents had always put some pressure on him to have what they liked to call a good job. And it wasn’t his way of thinking, he wanted to feel free, to love his job and not to feel any pressure from anyone. He was so kind to you, making you more feel comfortable than yesterday. Shy, sweet, talkative and curious about anything you’re saying. A 28 years old man, mature, understanding and independant.

Needless to say that you didn’t talk about your school lessons, but just about the two of you. Also needless to say that you were fascinated. There was just something about his eyes scanning you everytime you were talking, and it felt so good to be the center of his attention. Your conversations were so fluids, you couldn’t hold back yourself to talk and to look at his beautiful features.

“Mind if I draw on you?” He cuts you off when you were talking, grabbing his colorful pens that was near him. He looks at you with his still hypnotic dark eyes and you nod your head with a shy smile. He kneels down infront of you on the ground as you were still sitting on the sofa. You internally thank the beautiful days for allowing you to put on a skirt. “Can I draw on your thighs? I mean, I have a big idea! But I want you to discover it, but if it makes you uncomfortable I-”

“No, no! It’s ok! You can, of course, do it Seungmin. I trust you.”

He smiles timidly, probably knowing that he got a little carried away. He was so passionnate about art that you couldn’t refrein him to do what he has to.

Seungmin then starts drawing on one of your legs, starting from your ankle to your knee. He draws pretty colorful flowers on your skin, it was so soft and beautiful you can’t stop staring at his work on you. He quickly reaches the level of your thigh and he was so close to you that you felt his hot breath against your shivering skin. You felt you mind dizzy for a moment, as his lips were also close to you. Unconsciously you tighten your legs between them, which makes him raise his face to look at you. His pupils were now totally black and this view of him between your legs was all you needed to lose your mind.

You softly grab his hair, making him smirk and immediatly starts to kiss your two thighs. He was so soft, taking his time to discover all of your sensitive spots. And you ? You were already lost, spreading your legs slowly so he can be placed correctly between them. Your inner thighs was his target, he sucks your flesh and you whines at the feeling.

“Please...” You see him smile, licking everywhere but your heat spot. Even your pubic area was drowned in sweet kisses. “Please, I... Do something I can’t...”

Seungmin hums, gripping your legs so they can rest against his shoulders. He lifts your skirt up, moving your pantie on the side and take his time to look at your intimate parts with hungry eyes. You clear your throat, embarassed that he looks at you like that and he gives your clit a kiss.

“So fucking pretty... Fuck, Y/N you’re so pretty, look at that pretty flower...” You chuckles at the surname he gaves to your womanhood. 

He doesn’t waste any more time and starts kissing your wet folds at a slow pace, taking his time to taste your wetness. His tongue was heaven like against you, he was so precise and slow, you couldn’t contain your moans escaping your mouth. His plump lips surround your bud, sucking on it and circling his wet muscle all around your swollen one. 

Your legs tighten against his head as you feel the heat waves crashing against your lower abdom like a delicious torment.

Two of his fingers join his tongue and he finally insert them in your clenching wetness. Your eyes rolls back the moment you feel yourself kinda full, but you lost it the moment he curls his fingers inside of you to stroke your sweetest no-return point.

You moan his name, biting your lips, moving your hips against his magical mouth as he helps you rode your orgasm, pumping his two fingers in you while licking tirelessly your folds and clit the fastest as he can.

Your breath was cut, and you can feel him gives butterflies kisses on you, replacing correctly your clothes on you. He stands up, cleaning his own fingers by licking them which make you blush at the view. He strokes your messy hair, kissing your forehead with a reassuring smile.

“I think I’ve found my muse.” 

#skz smut #stray kids smut #seungmin smut #seungmin scenarios

[17caratssi]

Wonwoo! Will you stay

Jeon Wonwoo! A short series pt one | two | three | four After the rejection, Wonwoo finds your persistence cumbersome. Surprisingly, the quarrel results in you getting new friends.

Our current parents are not the ones who really had you. In actuality, you were adopted to a loving couple that has had no child for 7 years. Your biological parents were too poor to raise another child, and they chose to put you into adoption when you were only 5 months.

When the couples saw you in the centre, they immediately fell in love with you and agreed to take you as their child. You had your name registered under your father's last name and basically became the daughter of their family.

It was illegal at that time, but your parents were desperate to have a child.

It didn't shock you the first time you were disclosed to this information. You don't look like your mother or father, and the brats at school keep suggesting that you're adopted. Your parents then decided to tell you despite your young age.

"You are our daughter. No matter what others say, we love you with our full hearts. Don't forget that, darling," was what your mother told you 12 years ago.

You know they are the best family you could ever have, and they always do. Occasionally, you would thank them. Your mother was never fond of you thanking them, and your dad doesn't have the heart to scold you for the same reason.

He hates it too, but you want them to know that you're very grateful to them.

Your father turns to look at you and stroke your head tenderly. "Where can I find the best daughter like this in this world?"

"You can't anymore. The world only has one best daughter, and that's me~."

"You're super right!" he pinches your nose playfully and has you giggle. "Let's go home. Mommy said she has something for you,"

The next day, you walk to your seat and sit quietly. You feel quite tired from the lacking of sleep. Your friend from America called you last night, and it continued until 3 in the morning. You were too guilty to tell her that you have school in the morning and have to sleep.

In the end, you only got 3 hours of sleep before getting ready for school.

You rest your head on the table and shut your eyes. The students are not making any noises, and you quickly fall asleep.

Wonwoo comes in when you already wake up. He is pretty late as compared to others.

You greet him with a good morning and directly ask. "Your house isn't that far. Why are you late?"

Wonwoo pulls his chair and sits. He's quiet on usual, so you don't know if he's normal or moody.

"Wonwoo, what do you think they have for lunch?"

"Wonwoo, can you teach me Physics? I'm most terrible at it.."

"Wonwoo, what club are you planning to join? Let me join you, OK?"

"Wonwoo, what did you say?" you ask again. You have lost count of how many times to call his name. Wonwoo... Wonwoo... It just rolls off the tongue.

Wonwoo raises his head and faces you. He opens his thin lips and repeats his words.

"You're. So. Freaking. Annoying," he utters word by word as if tearing your heart pieces by pieces. It sends you into speechless mode.

Though he tries to speak through his teeth, some students can still hear him. The girls in front of you are flabbergasted by the vulgar word Wonwoo used.

Never have they ever assumed Wonwoo could be crude to a girl. They study your face, but you're smiling.

"I thought I made it clear yesterday that I'm not at all interested in you. I find you annoying since the first time we meet. You're just a stuck-up rich kid that has no shame," Wonwoo canes his chin with his palm and continues.

"Just look at you. Which part of you is charming? I'll tell you this. Maybe you can get the white boys to line up within a snap of a finger, but I'm not like them. I hate all the girls most when they're rich and think they're superior to others. I don't have to clarify with you which category you're in, right?"

When you and the girls think he's done, you all are wrong.

"I think I should be more clear with you-"

"Enough." the girl with shorter hair stands up and kicks his table. "You could've just rejected her nicely, but you prefer being an asshole, don't you?" she says. Her eyes are burning with rage as he stares at Wonwoo, and they only calm after her seatmate pulls her arm.

"Yeah, Somi's right. I'll talk to the teacher about this, Y/N. We'll have you swap seats with some boy," you read her nametag- Umji, and you're about to say something when Wonwoo interferes.

What he has to say is just him admitting that he agrees with Umji. "Tell everything to the classroom teacher. I can't be bothered sitting next to someone's so annoying,"

"Stop it now, will you?" Somi flares again, and Wonwoo resumes his previous business.

Umji and Somi really keep their word and tell the homeroom teacher the morning incident. The arrangement changes, and you sit with a girl in the second row.

Since then, it's quite difficult to peek at Wonwoo without being noticed.

Every day after school ends, Wonwoo flees before you catch up to him. You want to apologize to him, but the whole week has passed. In the meantime, you make friends with Somi and Umji. The depressing, lonely days become less severe with them.

During the recess, the three of you go to the field and settle on a metal bench. Somi's boyfriend is a basketball player, so she always watches over him at the basketball court.

"Why are your face so red, Y/N?" Umji cups your cheeks and jiggles them. "Are you sick?"

You shake your head from side to side and breathes out loudly. You've been holding to ask them about Wonwoo, and now's the time!

"I want to ask something, but don't get mad. How's Wonwoo's doing?" you literally rap.

"Slow down, Y/N! I don't get you-" Umji holds your shoulder and soothes your nervous heart, but Somi is quick-witted. She reiterates to Umji and then glances at you.

"What's so nice about that a-hole? You still think about him?"

Umji doesn't deny that, but she's curious about Wonwoo. "I don't know. Is it me, or Wonwoo appears to be quieter after you change seat,"

"It's good, though. I hate it when he opens his filthy mouth. I can't forget what he said to Y/N!" you keep silent when Somi makes a comment.

"Maybe he cares about me after all?" you say, unabashed.

Somi frowns and leans forward. "Have you lost your mind, Y/N?"

You shake your head rapidly. "To be honest, I don't feel angry at him for saying that to me. I was wrong in the first place, so he has all the right to snap at me," you sip the grape juice.

Somi and Umji are in disbelief, and it entertains you.

"I don't know if this is true love or you're too naive,"

Umji chooses, "True love, it is," which sounds extremely unpleasant to Somi. She turns away and fakes a gag. "Blergh! Don't you dare encourage her, Umji,"

"Let's go to class," Somi says after regaining her composure. You've been straining the urge to pee since the break started; therefore, you excuse yourself to the toilet, and the two go back to the class without you. On the way, you accidentally bump into your seatmate, Ahin, in the toilet.

She's with her friends, talking about someone.

As you enter a cubicle, you hear a familiar name being mentioned by a girl.

"Wonwoo..." following after is barely audible, "...bullied,"

.

Wonwoo packs his things up and is ready to leave. He hangs the strap on his shoulder, crossing his torso and kicks the chair. The others who are aware of his precedented action make way for him.

You see him and quickly follow after. Close.. very close, and you grab by his bag.

"You're so fast!" you pant.

"Let go,"

"No! Are you getting in or not?" Not responding to you, you pull him by force into the elevator. Good thing; there's no one else besides you two.

You don't waste a second as you make a quick X-ray on him.

"No bruise, no cuts? Are you really being bullied?" you are still gripping his hands while asking him.

Not liking the skin contact, Wonwoo twists your limbs, dominates your wrists and rebukes. "I'll not repeat it. Get your hands off me!"

"I won't do so until you tell me," You undo the action and hold his again. "Are you being bullied, or you're the bully?"

The elevator opens, and Wonwoo escapes. You're too weak to hold against him, but he was just being kind as to not hurt you.

Since you can't do that again, you just chase after him a bit before jumping on his back. You adjust his bag and cling tightly to his neck.

"What are you doing? People are watching-"

"You don't like the attention, right? You might as well answer me!'

Wonwoo stops in his track. It's dangerous to move since you're not stable.

He exhales.

"The latter. Satisfied?"

"You're the bully?" you stretch your head to look at him. You did not expect that answer from him and squeal nonetheless.

"Thank god! I thought you're being bullied 'cuz if that's the case, I don't know what I'd do,"

What was that?.. Wonwoo wonders how could someone be happy when they're just met with a bully.

"Aren't you a fool?" he struggles to stand straight as you shift your weight to the side. "Get down now,"

"Oh," You climb down and instantly admire him again. "You're so cool!" with your clapping hands, you quick to remind him. "Don't let anyone bully you, alright?"

"My dad's here. Bye, Wonwoo!"

Wonwoo can't read you. He looks up to the sky and ponders. "Why would I listen to just anyone..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Sorry for the short chapter. The next ones are much longer, at least to me lol (¯▿¯)

If you like this story, you might as well check out the others here !

#wonwoo oneshot #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo seventeen #seventeen #wonwoo imagine #seventeen imagine #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #wonwoo_will you stay #wonwoo_WYS3 #kpop #kpop imagine #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop one shot #wonwoo one shot

[bookstantrash]

A/N: This is an idea that has been living inside my mind for a really long time and I finally gathered courage to write it. But I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so every time I read and edited it I always found more and more faults in what I had written, so I said “To hell with this, I’m gonna post it before I delete the whole thing”

This ended up being way longer than what I had imagined and I have no idea how I feel about it. So buckle up folks, because this is going to be a ride.

In which she makes a friend

After almost three months living in Illyria, Nesta could not recall a single conversation that had lasted for more than three minutes or that had been longer than two sentences. Not that she cared much in holding meaningless conversations about the weather and whatnot with the few Illyrians bold enough to talk to her. Because few were those that tried to talk to her, those that were not scared of her, whose voices did not whisper Other or Witch whenever she bothered to leave the house she now lived in.

So when Nesta sat on the lonely stone bench in front the house – the weather had given a break and gone from “insufferable bone cold” to “tolerable chilly” – to try and calm the raging fire in her veins, a sign that her power was trying to break free, a sign that she was close to breaking and destroying everything around her, she was very much surprised to find an Illyrian child walking towards her.

It was not unusual to have a few Illyrians knocking on the door sometimes, given that she now lived with him due to her sister’s order long ago in Velaris. But since her babysitter had gone to Cauldron knows where, to do Cauldron knows what a week ago, no one had come knocking on the door asking for that overgrown bat. Adding the fact that his house was a little secluded from the rest, Nesta could not imagine why that child was coming over.

“Good...good evening” the Illyrian greeted, stopping in front of her.

“He’s not here” Nesta said, eyeing the child in front of her. The boy – Nesta supposed it was a boy, not older than thirteen, with its short cut curly brown hair, bandaged hands, muddied clothes and scar free wings being the only clue she had – shifted nervously on his feet.

“I...I’m not looking for the General” the boy said “I heard there was a Witch living here. I take you are her”

For the second time of that day Nesta found herself surprised. The boy in front of her had called her a Witch in her face, something most did not.

“I wanted to ask for a spell” the boy’s voice had lost a bit of it’s previous nervousness, and he had squared his shoulders, wings slightly flaring “I don’t have much, but I’m ready to give anything in return”

‘You can’t possible have anything to give me’ Nesta thought, glancing at his ripped and dirty clothes.

“I’m no Witch” Nesta said, getting up and turning her back at the kid, making for the house’s door “Go back to your parents”

~•~

The next day, when Nesta was coming back from a walk in the woods – there was something about the ancient trees and the wilderness that helped her control her inner turmoil — she was baffled to see yesterday’s boy waiting for her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday” the boy blurted out before she could send him away “I didn’t want to offend you. I’m Kaelin”

Nesta’s only answer was a blink.

“I...I only said you were a Witch because that’s what the others said you were” Kaelin’s ears turned pink, no doubt embarrassed to admit listening to gossip.

“I don’t blame you” she said, and Kaelin’s eyes lit in surprise.

No. Nesta did not blame the boy for thinking her a Witch. Because long ago, before the war, before the empt void inside her was as big as the ocean, before she heard her father’s neck crack, she had declared to that annoying camp lord Devlon that she indeed was a Witch. But now, even though her powers were as loud as a beast’s roar in her ears, she did not want to touch them. Could not touch them.

And nothing, not even the hopeful look in Kaelin’s light brown eyes, would make her touch the wild beast that lived within her. She would not give the boy false hope. She would not fail another child. Not again. Not ever.

“If you have problems maybe you’d better tell your parents about it, instead of reaching for witchcraft”

After all, even thirteen year old Illyrians must have foolish mistakes that they would rather not tell their parents about.

“I don’t have parents. At least not anymore” Kaelin’s hard and sorrowful voice was enough to make Nesta resist prying further into his problem.

“I see” was the only thing she said, and she once again turned her back at him, entering that lonely and sad cabin, even though she was feeling rather inclined to talk, a feeling she had not felt for the longest time.

~•~

Kaelin appeared on Nesta’s door three days later, with a black eye, bruised cheek and a split lip that didn’t stop him from smiling and giving her something wrapped in brown paper.

“I thought about it and I realised that my apology was lacking” he started talking non stop, not giving Nesta a chance to say anything except gape at him and the gift on her hands “Father always said to treat everyone nicely, unless they were rude to you. He said it was what mother believed in”

Nesta could only nod and unwrap the paper to discover a pair of gloves.

“Did you steal them?” She asked, connecting the dots between the gloves she held — surely way out of the kid’s status of affordable — and his beaten face.

“No!” Kaelin replied, a bitterness in his voice “I know I’m just a lowly orphan but I’d never take something from another one in such an unhonoured way”

Nesta just grossed her arms, waiting for his explanation.

“One of the boys from the high families arrived at training with new boots” he gave a sly smile “I fought him for them”

“You did what?” Nesta’s voice rose and she was holding herself back from shaking the boy until he was back into his right mind.

“Fighting between Illyrians is not prohibited. But it’s best if you don’t get caught” Kaelin replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Nesta felt her temper rising.

“You. Come with me” she grabbed Kaelin’s arm and took him inside before he could protest.

She made him sit on sofa in the living room while she went searching for the medic supplies she was sure Cassian had. Once she found it, she went back to Kaelin and started treating his cuts, mumbling the entire time about how stupid and reckless boys were.

“This is nice” he said, wincing slight when Nesta touched his bruised cheek.

“What is nice?”

“Having someone take care of you” he answered “I... I didn’t know my mom. She died shortly after I was born. Father said she was quite fragile”

Nesta trying to not let show how his words affected her. She remembered another woman, dying in a lonely bed just a few years after her youngest child had been born.

“He died in the last war. Against Hybern” he practically spat the late king’s name, hate filling every syllable.

Nesta finished treating him and started organising the materials, to keep herself busy and have an excuse to buy time to know what to answer him. She had never been good at consoling others. And she didn’t know why, but she was afraid her bluntness would end up hurting Kaelin.

“He was a hero” he said firmly, his eyes shining with defiance “He may have been just a mere foot soldier but he was at the front line, keeping Hybern’s forces back”

“I’m sure he was” Nesta replied, trying not to think about who may have said otherwise to him, hurting a child who had nothing “But would he like to see his son picking meaningless fights?”

“It was to get you a gift” Kaelin looked down and poked at the sofa “I’m sure he’d have understood. Besides, I have to fight and stand out if I want to have a shot at the Rite”

“You mean the Blood Rite? I thought everyone participated” Nesta had gathered little information about the Illyrians for the time she had been living in Illyria. There were no libraries, no bookstores, and the books Cassian had about the Illyrian culture and history were scarce and outdated.

“The very one. You are not obligated to become a warrior, but that’s the path most of male Illyrians take. Not that we have many options to begin with” Kaelin’s voice had became serious “Most of the males from the richer families are bound to participate, but the rest.... we end up being mere foot soldiers. Expendable. So no point in making us take part in it.”

At his words, Nesta could not help but think about Cassian. He too was an orphan but had risen to be Rhysand’s Commander and had seven siphons. From what she had heard and seen at the war, that was rather unusual.

“It’s worse for females” Kaelin added quietly.

She knew that. Saw how females were treated on the rare times she got out of the cabin. A scarce number trained. And she did not know a lot about training, but was sure it was not near enough to make them part of the Illyrian army. Or even defend themselves were the worst to happen.

Nesta opened her mouth to say Cauldron knows what — she had to say something, she could not let the boy leave with such dark thoughts — when a loud noise interrupted her.

It was a sound Nesta knew quite well from her time as a human living in a shabby cottage.

A sound she had become reacquainted with after being Made. After that day at the battle field.

The sound of hungriness. The sound of someone who was starving, and had been so for quite a while.

And it was coming from Kaelin.

The Illyrian boy beside her blushed a deep scarlet, trying — and failing — to come up with an excuse. But Nesta knew better. She knew the signs of starvation. Saw them in herself. Had seen it in her younger sisters, when they were not older than Kaelin.

Thin wrists. Sunken eyes. Cheekbones way too sharp. Up close Nesta could properly examine Kaelin and notice that the boy was all bones and little muscle, his skinny built not a consequence of slow metabolism to gain weight, but rather the fact that he did not have enough sustenance to make it possible.

“I have way too much food stocked here. I was supposed to be living with an adult warrior that can eat for five people “ Nesta began, cutting Kaelin’s blabbering “It would be a crime to let it all get wasted”

Leaving him no window to reply, she took hold of his arm, hauling him towards the kitchen and making him to sit down while she gathered whatever food she came across. And she had enough fire in her eyes — she may or may not have lost a little bit of control of her powers due to her racing emotions — that Kaelin did not dare say a word, but just sit quietly and eat what was put in front of him.

~•~

Nesta’s routine had suffered a slight change after that evening. For the past month and a half, Kaelin had been having a meal with her after his training. Every day.

She had made sure to make it clear that she was expecting a visit from him after his activities were over.

He did not dare argue with her.

Today, however, was an unusual day.

Kaelin was late.

Almost two hours late.

Nesta had come to know Illyrian boy better, and one thing she learned about him was that he detested to be late. For him, his promises and commitment were everything, reminding her of another Illyrian she knew – which had not come back in two months. Not that she missed or was worried about him.

She tried and failed to convince herself that Kaelin may have been held back by training. But she did not know why she felt a strange feeling. Her powers were restless, more so than usual.

The air and the trees around her seemed different.

She felt it deeply in her bones.

As if the Cauldron itself — hidden far far away in a island that did not exist in any map ever written — dreaded whatever future thread the Mother was knitting.

As if something had been woken.

As if the winds of change had gone from a light breeze to a tornado, ready to wreak havoc in Illyria.

Nesta could not hold herself back any longer. She needed to know what was happening. To know if that strange song that spoke of a power strong and ancient was connected to Kaelin tardiness.

So into the woods she went.

She walked and walked, until the song in her ears got louder and a new sound appeared, a sound she would not be able to hear were it not for her fae ears.

The sound of someone whimpering.

Quickening her steps, Nesta followed the cries of pain until the wall of trees around her gave way to a small clearing.

And there, lying curled up in a ball, was Kaelin.

“KAELIN!”

Nesta ran towards him, falling on her knees beside his body.

“What happened? Did somebody hurt you?” she smelled blood, and feared the Illyrian whose boots he had “won” had gone after him for payback.

Her mind was racing, her thoughts overlapping themselves. She recalled another winged body, laying on the ground. She recalled another child, crying in pain due to its empty stomach, who had not seen food for weeks.

She would not fail anyone ever again. That had been her promise to herself.

“Kaelin...” Nesta slowly touched his arm, trying to soothe him “Talk to me. Tell me where it hurts”

Kaelin whimpered, slowly uncurling his body and tucking his wings. He clutched his abdomen, and Nesta dared to try and touch her power.

She would touch that dangerous beast if that meant she could help the young boy in front of her.

And so she tentatively reached inside herself for that source, trying to recall if any training she’d had with Amren may assist her in the current situation.

She scanned Kaelin’s body, and that’s when she noticed the small drops of blood beneath him. But her powers had not detected any wounds. No, he was not hurt.

However, she finally found the origin of the bleeding. And Nesta momentarily lost her breath.

Because she knew the reason why Kaelin was in pain.

“You are not a boy” she breathed.

Kaelin was a girl.

A girl who had had her first period.

A girl who was passing as a boy. Training like one.

And when Kaelin finally meet Nesta’s eyes, brown eyes shining with tears, she cursed the Mother for whatever future thread she had knitted.

•

Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth

#sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm fanfic #nesta archeron

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 5: The Tell (Part Two)

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

P.S. Scott gets lost in la la land and Beacon Hills might have a mountain lion problem??

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

I sighed into my locker and let my head drop against the cool metal. I forgot to do my calculus homework. Again. 

I couldn't blame myself too much. I was still shaken up by the events of last week, although I’d done my best to forget about it. No one had seen any signs of the alpha since the video store. Jackson was acting really strange, though. Most of the time I saw him he looked sick and jumpy. Something was just off. He did get closer to the alpha than me, so maybe he was just processing in his own way. 

Lydia had been weird right after, but she seemed to push whatever remaining fear she had into the back of her mind. The strangest part, though, was that both of them had told people the animal that attacked was a mountain lion.

“Oh, God.” I heard Allison grumble from beside me.

I glanced over to see a bunch of balloons floating out of her locker. She tried her best to push them back in, and looked around nervously. She pulled out a card and read it over quickly before turning to glare at me.

“Really?”

I just grinned back. Lydia somehow knew it was her birthday today, so we filled her locker with all her favorites. Plus the balloons to embarrass her just a little. A moment later, Scott walked up.

He inspected the scene and put the pieces together quickly. “Is it your birthday?”

“No. No. Nope. I mean...yes.” She shoved the remaining loose balloons back inside the metal cage and frowned. “Please don't tell anybody. I don't even know how they found out.”

I avoided her glare and shut my locker before crossing my arms and leaning against it. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” Scott sounded a little hurt.

“Because...” She hesitated, looking between us. “I’m seventeen.”

Oh. That was news to me. Scott blinked, shocked. 

“That’s exactly the reaction I’m trying to avoid.” She muttered, pulling a textbook out before slamming her locker with a slam.

“Hey, I totally get it. You had to repeat a year because of all the moving around. Right?” That would've been my guess, too. It was pretty obvious if you knew her at all. 

But she looked surprised by his answer. So surprised that she rushed forward and gave him a kiss. I looked away quickly, clearing my throat awkwardly. 

“What was that for?” Scott asked, and I figured it was safe to look again. 

“For being the first person ever, literally, to make the right assumption.” She grinned at him, and he returned the look with a awe-struck expression of his own.

They were really good together. A little too easily distracted, maybe, but it was clear that they were in love. I just wondered if they knew it yet. 

“I’ll catch you guys later.” She walked away with one final wave. 

I moved to head toward class, but Scott caught my arm gently. I turned and looked at him expectantly. 

“You okay?” His big brown eyes looked at me with concern and I sighed. He always tried to take care of everybody. He’d checked on me a million times since the video store attack, and I’d told him I was fine, but he was relentless. 

“Yes, Scott.” I confirmed with a roll of my eyes. “I was okay yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, too. You don't need to keep worrying about me.”

He didn't look convinced. “Just...if you need anything. I’m here. We both are. Me and Stiles, I mean. You can talk to us.”

I felt my face grow hot at the mention of his name. Things had been normal after our weird almost kiss. Utterly and completely normal. We hadn't talked about it since. We hadn't talked much at all, actually. Just typical school stuff. Not that I minded. 

“Thanks.” I gave him a genuine smile and turned to leave. 

I really needed to get to class. I was already falling behind, since my mind had been preoccupied lately. By the time I was done talking to Scott, the hallways were empty. I picked up the pace, hoping I could still make it before the late bell. I glanced down, and almost immediately slammed into someone’s back. 

I raised my head quickly, ready to apologize, but stopped when I saw who it was. I let out a huff, my shoulders tensing. Derek Hale was standing in front of me, looking threatening as ever. I hadn't seen him in nearly two weeks, and I preferred it that way. He gave me a serious case of the heebie-jeebies. 

“Why are you always here?” I found myself asking without thinking about the consequences. He was way too old to be in a high school. I was honestly surprised no one had ever called him out for hanging around here without actually being a student.

He took a step forward, and I took one back. His crystal blue eyes trailed over me from head to toe, and I shifted uncomfortably. “You don't need to be afraid.”

“Well, excuse me.” I scoffed. “The last time I saw you here, you tried kidnapping me.”

His head cocked to the side and his eyebrows rose in agreement. “True. But I’m not here for you.”

“Then why are you here?” I swallowed nervously. Trouble seemed to follow him wherever he went. Just his presence put me on edge.

He continued walking toward me, and I kept moving back until I ran into the lockers harshly. I gasped, surprised at the sudden contact, my breathing picking up with my rising anxiety.

He didn’t stop until he was only half a foot away. I watched him expectantly, waiting for him to grab me or rip my throat out or something. I hadn’t even been able to get away from him when he was almost dead, so I was very aware that my chances or survival if he wanted to hurt me were slim to none.

“If you ever want to learn some control, you know where to find me.” His eyes trailed over my face as he spoke. And then, he was gone.

I watched him walk away, more confused than ever. Control? Over what? I didn’t have much time to think about it, because Jackson came stumbling out of the boys locker room just in front of me. He looked sickly, his normally tanned skin white as paper, and he was sweating profusely.

He looked around nervously, itching at the back of his neck, before his eyes met mine.

“You okay?” I asked tentatively, not sure what was even wrong with him. Maybe he had the flu or something?

“Fine.” He muttered, his gaze flickering around the hallway almost obsessively.

He turned and stalked away from me with a shake of his head. That was odd. He’d been acting so weird ever since the video store. I watched his retreating back, then turned toward the direction Derek had gone. At once I realized that they had both come out of the locker room. So Derek was here...for Jackson?

My mind was swimming with possibilities as I finally made my way to class.

                                                   ————————

I walked through the school’s parking lot, trying to find Allison. I waited nearly ten minutes by our lockers but she never showed. I hadn’t seen her at lunch, either, come to think of it.

“Hey,” I jumped at the sudden presence beside me, but relaxed at the sight of familiar brown eyes. “I need you to do your witchy thing.”

I stopped and looked at Stiles with raised eyebrows. “My what?”

“Your thing.” He flailed his arms wildly, seemingly in a hurry.

“I don’t have a thing.” I said slowly, not sure what he was getting at.

“You have a thing.” He raised his eyebrows and huffed when I just stared at him. “Okay. Look. I haven’t been able to find Scott all day and his phone is going straight to voicemail. I just need you to tell me if he’s in trouble.”

I finally realized that he was talking about my visions and rolled my eyes before continuing on my way. “That is so not how it works.”

He let out a little ha and clapped his hands together with a jump. “So you admit you have a thing!”

“Can’t help you, Stiles.” I called over my shoulder and shook my head. I had no idea how my visions worked, but I knew I couldn’t just turn them on and off whenever I wanted. 

He let out an impatient groan and jogged up to my side again. “I’m worried, Y/N. Very worried.”

There was still no sign of Allison anywhere. I stopped again and turned all the way around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her car. It didn’t look like it was even in the parking lot.

“He’s probably with Allison.” I decided. “She’s been gone all day too.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing various options in his head. Then he reached out and wrapped a hand around my wrist gently. Before I could even fully process that he was touching me, I was being dragged through the parking lot. I nearly tripped over my own feet as I tried to keep up with his quick pace. I swear, he never slows down. 

“What are you doing?” I breathed, dodging a few people as he weaved us between parked cars. 

“You're helping me find him.” He announced, not even bothering to phrase it like a question. 

We arrived at his Jeep a moment later and he pulled open the passenger door before looking at me expectantly. I stood firmly in place. 

“I have homework.” It wasn't even a lie. I was behind in almost every class due to the whole almost being attacked by a murderous werewolf thing. 

“I’ll do it for you.” He offered quickly, gesturing for me to get into the car. 

I mean, that didn't sound half bad...

“Fine.” With a resigned huff I slid inside. Stiles shut the door quickly and jogged around the front to get into the driver’s seat. 

Within minutes the school was long behind us. I didn't know where he was going, but I figured he had some kind of plan. He always did. We hadn't spoken since he turned the car on, and I was beginning to feel a little awkward. Should we talk about it? We should talk about it. Right?

I opened my mouth to do just that, but instead a totally different stream of words came out. “Do you think it has anything to do with Derek?”

Stiles’ head turned in my direction so fast I was afraid he may have given himself whiplash. “Derek?”  

“Uh.” Yeah, that was so not the right thing to say. I wasn't even planning on telling him about our weird interaction this morning. Why brain? Why?

“Why would Scott be with him?” He pressed, still looking at me. 

“Can you focus on the road?” My voice rose with worry and his eyes twitched at me before he complied with pursed lips. “I may have seen him this morning, and the last time he was at the school he was looking for Scott, so—”

He slammed on the breaks so suddenly that I launched forward, my seatbelt barely saving me from faceplanting into the dash. 

“Y/N!” He snapped incredulously. “You have to tell me these things!”

“I just did.” I looked at him with wide eyes as I readjusted myself in my seat. My gaze moved behind us to make sure no one was coming. This was not the first time he’d abruptly stopped in the middle of the road, and it really wasn't helping with my theory that every time I was in this car my life was somehow in danger. 

He scoffed and made a U turn, taking us back in the direction we’d just come from. “Did he say anything to you? What was he doing?”

“I don't know.” I decided to gloss over the fact that he had indeed said something very weird to me. “I think he was talking to Jackson.”

“Jackson? Why would he be talking to Jackson?” He, thankfully, kept his eyes on the road, but I saw them twitch again. I noticed he did that a lot. I wasn't sure if it was an anxious tick, or it meant he was thinking, or what. It was just a Stiles thing. One of his mannerisms that made him all the more endearing. 

I shrugged. “Like anyone knows what goes through that guys head. Maybe he threatened him or something. Jackson came out of the locker room looking pretty shaken up.”

“No. No, that doesn’t make any sense.” He mumbled, more to himself than me.

A few minutes later, we were sitting outside mine and Scott’s houses. We’d already driven past Allison’s, all of them proving empty. Her car was nowhere to be seen. Stiles started the Jeep again, and we were on our way to Beacon Hills Preserve. He was persistent about checking the Hale house, despite my efforts to convince him how utterly stupid that idea was.

Nothing good had ever happened there. I had no desire to go back, but I’d found out over the last few weeks that he could be even more stubborn than me—something I didn’t think was possible—so I didn’t push too hard. I knew it was a losing fight.

He slowed down at the entrance of the preserve when we stumbled upon Allison’s car parked next to a trailhead. I found myself chewing on my bottom lip, growing nervous. Stiles looked at me with raised eyebrows, and I frowned.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe they went on a hike.”

He scoffed and continued driving as far as the Jeep would go. When Derek’s withered house came into view, we stopped.

“Do you always spy on your friends?” I tried to get comfortable in my seat, assuming we’d be here for awhile.

He shrugged from beside me. “Only with probable cause.”

Not more than thirty seconds later, we saw a woman who I recognized as Kate Argent approaching with two men flanked at her sides.

Stiles completely spazzed out and ducked down in his seat. “Who the hell are they?”

Each of the men were carrying large guns, and Kate had one strapped across her chest. They easily let themselves right in. I mean, there wasn’t much stopping them. There were more holes than not in that thing. You could barely even call it a house anymore.

“I know one of them is Allison’s aunt.” I breathed, not feeling any better now that they were out of sight.

“That’s bad. Very very bad.” His eyes practically bulged out of his head and his chest was rising and falling erratically as he started panicking. He moved to get out of the car and I jerked forward to grab his arm.

“What the hell are you doing? Do you have a freaking death wish?” For some reason, I was whispering. It just felt like we were going to be caught any second.

Then, the unmistakable sounds of struggling and gunshots echoed through the woods.

“Those are hunters, Y/N! Scott could be in there.” Stiles started pulling against me again, but I only tightened my grip.

“And we’re human. What are either of us going to do?”

He stopped struggling for a moment and glanced toward the back of the car. “I have a bat.”

More groans and shouts came from the house. Both of our heads whipped in that direction at the sound. I leaned forward in my seat, trying to get a better view, but it was too dark inside to see anything. Plus, the sun was going down, which didn’t help.

Suddenly, Derek came barreling out the front door at top speed. He was shirtless, for some reason, and looked really shaken up. He didn’t even glance in our direction as he sprinted through the trees. Stiles and I watched him pass by in stunned silence.

A few seconds later, Kate and the two men exited as well. Stiles ducked down beside me again, but I was too curious to move. What were they even doing? It didn’t look like any of them were hurt despite the gunshots and yelling.

My heart dropped into my stomach as they started walking our way.

“We need to go.” I breathed, tapping him on the arm quickly.

“It’s fine, you can’t see anything down here.” He shook his head, seemingly confident in the anatomy of his Jeep.

I looked at him with narrowed eyes. “They can still see the car, Stiles!”

His face dropped in realization and he sprang back upright. After fumbling with the keys for a few seconds, we were fleeing the scene quickly. I watched them the whole way and, thankfully, it didn’t look like they’d spotted us.

We’d barely gotten out of the preserve when Stiles’ phone chimed in his pocket. He rushed to pull it free, swerving into the wrong lane due to his frenzied state. I braced my hands against the dashboard and gave him an incredulous look as he checked the notification.

“God, Scott. Finally.” He breathed a sigh of relief, but his face quickly changed as he read the message.

“What is it?” My stomach tightened uncomfortably with anxiety. That look couldn’t be good.

“Allison’s dad shot an animal at the school.” He shoved the phone back into his pocket.

“Okay?” I was so beyond confused. Why was this a big deal? “What animal?”

He glanced my way briefly, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “A mountain lion.” 

Episode 5, Part One            Episode 6

#stiles x y/n #teen wolf imagine #stiles x reader #teen wolf series #scott mccall #allison argent #stiles stilinski #stiles x oc #stiles #lydia martin #jackson whittemore #dylan obrien x reader #derek hale #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles imagine #stiles stilinksi imagine #teen wolf season one #scott and stiles #stiles x original character #teen wolf rewrite

[mammon-sama]

To Be Human (Fanfiction) Part 2/?

Okay, okay, I'm sorry that this chapter is so long; in fact, it's the longest chapter I've ever written in the eight years I've written fanfiction, but I really wanted to start writing the boys in the Human World next chapter, so I had to write pretty much all of the setup for them to get there in the past two chapters.

And yes, I realize some parts are confusing (if you need clarification, let me know), but I promise that there are a lot of things that I'm going to clear up in the next few chapters, so fear not!

As always, you can read this story here on AO3.

Title:

To Be Human

Summary:

When a mysterious force attacks the Devildom and destroys it, the brothers are forced to turn to their Father in the Celestial Realm for answers and assistance. However, the Almighty is still miffed at the seven due to their involvement in the Great Celestial War, and sends them to seek asylum in the one place they have yet to make their mark—the Human World.

Without the help of their beloved MC, the brothers must learn to assimilate into this strange new world, all while trying to figure out who is responsible for the destruction of the Devildom and take back their home.

Rating:

T

Word Count:

6812

First Chapter:

Read Chapter 1 here!

-

“Lucifer,” a voice called into the night.  “You awake?”

Lucifer closed his eyes and snuggled deeper under the covers.  He yawned and muttered groggily, “No.”

“Ah, okay.”  

He could hear Michael’s footsteps as the Angel of Destruction walked out of his bedroom.  As he closed the door, Lucifer heard the clanging of the doorknob falling to the floor. 

“Sorry, Luci,” Michael apologized, and Lucifer could imagine the sheepish smile on his face. “And sorry for waking you—I know you have to be in Father’s court early tomorrow.”

Lucifer mumbled incoherently in reply and attempted to once again be overcome by the throes of sleep.  However, guilt weighed upon his chest for sending the angel away, and he called, “Michael, wait, come back.”

A moment later, he could see Michael’s silhouette at the threshold of the door.  His wild black mane of hair had wound out of its ponytail, and his silky off-the-shoulder sleepshirt had well, slipped off his shoulders.  In his arms, he held a well-worn capybara plush, for even adult angels needed comfort in the form of stuffed animals sometimes.   

Lucifer raised himself off the bed and rubbed his eyes.  “What was it you wanted?”

“Well, I … you know that dream?”  

“The nightmare, yes.  Did you have it, again?”

There was no reply from Michael, and Lucifer sighed.  “Come here.”  He beckoned toward his new housemate, but Michael didn’t move forward, and instead, stared at the ground.  

Lucifer shook his head.  Although this living situation was new for the both of them, Lucifer was determined to make the best of it, for his Father had wanted His two most powerful Archangels to live together for some reason.  It seemed, though, that the Angel of Destruction’s history of being shunned by his fellow angels for his destructive tendencies had left him quite socially awkward. 

He pat his bed.  “Come here, Michael,” he repeated.

Hesitantly, Michael shuffled forward, and Lucifer saw his grip on his capybara tighten.  “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me.  Come sit,” commanded Lucifer.  

The two sat in silence for several minutes, neither knowing what to say.  From the corner of his eye, Lucifer saw that Michael hugged his plush to his chest and stared into his lap, his eyes wide in fear.

He must still be spooked by his nightmare, Lucifer realized.  He cleared his throat.  “Would it make you feel better if you slept here with me tonight?”

Instantly, Michael scooted away from him, to the point where he nigh fell off the bed.  He waved his hands in the air with a nervous smile.  “No, no, no!  I don’t want to impose!  I—I’ll go back to my room!”

Lucifer shook his head and clapped a hand on Michael’s thigh.  “You’ll stay here tonight.”

“I … okay.”  

Lucifer scooted over and lay down on his bed, turning away from Michael to give him space.  However, the other angel whomped himself down right next to Lucifer, pulled him close, and draped his leg over him.

He couldn’t help but feel the tiniest blush flush over his face, as he mumbled, “Just … don’t break the mattress or anything.”

Michael, who had already begun to snore, could only mumble, “Occu … pational … haz … ard.”

A small smile bloomed on Lucifer’s face and he gave a deep sigh as he closed his eyes.  His last thoughts before sleep overtook him was how much the House of Great Elation felt like home with the Angel of Destruction around.

“How much longer?” Mammon whined as the four demons with wings carried their three flightless brothers higher and higher into the sky.  “My wings are startin’ to get tired.”  

Asmodeus nodded.  “Yeah, and flying through these clouds is getting me all wet.”  He let out a gasp.  “Holy Father, is this how girls feel when I look at them?  Oh, this isn’t pleasant at all!  Ow!  Belphie, stop kicking me!”

“Whoops,” replied the seventhborn demon drily.  In fact, he had been the one to ask Beel to fly him over Asmo so he could land a couple of solid kicks to his brother’s head if he ever got too obnoxious.

Lucifer rolled his eyes at their antics, trying to hide the smile that blossomed on his face.  “If we keep flying a little higher, we should see the Celestial Realm’s precipice in a few minutes.”

Satan looked down from where he hung on Asmo, and his eyes widened when he saw how high up they were above the decimated Devildom.  “You six fell all this way when you were kicked out of the Celestial Realm?”

Lucifer could feel a storm form in his mind when he thought of that day—the day his Father had decided the He had had enough of His problematic children and hurled them out of house and home.  He grit his teeth and answered darkly, “Yes.”  He glowered for a moment before pausing and turning down to stare at Satan.  “You were there when we fell, too.”

“I remember that,” said Beel, frowning.  “We were all hurtling toward the Devildom and suddenly you just appeared.”

“Completely naked, too, if I may add,” giggled Asmo.

Lucifer sighed.  There was no way he could forget that day.  It seemed like just yesterday that Father had thrown him, Lilith, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor out of the Celestial Realm.  

He remembered that he had been cradling Lilith, who’s breaths were getting shallower by the moment, in his arms.  He had flapped his wings furiously to slow their descent, although the sheer force in which they had been thrown was too strong for him to counter and fly all the way back up, even if he wanted to.  Mammon had been carrying Levi as he was now, and Beel was, as usual, flying with Belphie, while Asmo flew beside them.  The five of them had closed around him and Lilith, staring in horror at their dying sister. 

Lucifer remembered his eyes filling with tears as he looked at Lilith, and all at once, the anger and wrath at his Father that had once plagued him so greatly dissipated, and it was replaced by an overwhelming fear for his sister’s life.

It was at that moment when a blond, naked figure appeared falling next to them.  The figure had the appearance of a grown man and stared at the group with blank, blue-green eyes.  

Together, they stared at the new creature and a puzzled dispute went among them as to where he had come from.  Lucifer didn’t know the man’s origins, but he knew that if he was brave enough to fall with them, then he was worth protecting.  He reached out an arm toward the man, who simply stared at him before taking it.

It wasn’t long before they realized that this person had been borne out of Lucifer’s wrath, and they gave him the name “Satan.”

“Ah, I think I see the Celestial Realm.”  Leviathan pointed upward a minute later toward a massive sphere of light that resided on the clouds a few miles ahead of them.

Mammon squinted.  “Just like I remember it—too damn bright n’ too damn shiny.”

“And here I thought if it weren’t for your Father, you all enjoyed your stint in the Celestial Realm,” said Satan.  “At least, Asmo tends to go on and on about how much he en—”

He was cut off when Asmodeus pinched his wrists and hissed, “I can and will drop you, Satan.”

“Don’t drop him, yet, Asmo,” said Lucifer, stepping onto the cloud cover that made up the ground of the Celestial Realm.  He stared up at the huge, pearly gates, which lay several feet in front of him.  “We’re here.”  He peered ahead, squinting at the two Gatekeepers who stood sentinel in front of the gates to ward off unsavory company.

“Is that who I think it is?” Levi asked, his eyes widening.

Mammon’s jaw dropped.  “Since when was Simeon a Gatekeeper?”

Lucifer raised his eyebrows.  When he had last been in the Celestial Realm, Simeon had been his fellow Archangel, and one of the most powerful angels ever created.  What was he doing in the position of a lowly Gatekeeper?

“Isn’t anyone worried that Simeon guarding the gate will make it harder for us to get through?” Beel asked.  “We know what he’s like.”

“Faithful and just.”  Asmodeus yawned.  “How boring.  Oh, well, at least he’s pretty.”

Lucifer pursed his lips.  Beel was right: the fact that one of the Gatekeepers of the Celestial Realm was a friend of theirs made this whole endeavor much more awkward.  Sure, the six brothers were notorious in their former home simply due to their involvement in the Great Celestial War, but they themselves weren’t friendly with any of the other angels anymore.

Nevertheless, he shook his head.  “We have to go in, and if that means going through Simeon, then so be it.”  

“Wait—what do you mean ‘go through Simeon?’” asked Satan.  He raised an eyebrow when he made the connection.  “Oh, you don’t mean … ?”

Belphegor nodded, a strange smile forming on his face.  “We’re not allowed in the Celestial Realm, so the only way that we can get in is to knock out the Gatekeepers.  Those pearly gates over there are the only way in and out of the Realm, and they’re the only ones guarding it.” 

“Yep, it ain’t gonna be pretty, but it’s somethin’ we’d decided on a while ago if we ever needed to come back here,” Mammon added.

Lucifer sighed.  It had been their plan for centuries, now, but knowing that Simeon would be one of the angels that he needed to render unconscious in order to get into the Celestial Realm caused a pit to form in his stomach.  “Perhaps we should try to be diplomatic—at least, at first.”

“I don’t know,” mumbled Levi.  “If videogames have taught me anything, it’s always best to attack first and ask questions later.”  He looked again at the Gatekeepers in front of them and frowned.  “But I guess since this is real life, maybe we should talk to them first and see if they’re willing to bend the rules and let us in.”

“Ha,” Mammon laughed, as Lucifer led his brothers toward the pearly gates.  “An angel willin’ to bend the rules.  That’ll be the day.”  

He, as well as the others, quieted down as they made their way to the front of the Celestial Realm’s gates.  Lucifer sighed, falling privy to nostalgia as he stared through the pearlescent bars at the place he had once called home.

“Lucifer!”  Simeon exclaimed, beaming at the group.  He held a hand out toward his fellow Gatekeeper, who had whipped out his Sword of the Spirit at the sight of the seven intruders.  “Stand down, Sorath.”

Sorath gave Simeon a frown in disgust.  “Are you kiddin’?  You know who these are, right, Simeon?  Sinners!  The lot of ‘em!  Father threw ‘em down for a reason, y’know!”

“And you sir, are lovely, as well,” Lucifer replied, giving the other Gatekeeper a patronizing smile.  He turned toward Simeon, but before he could speak, the angel pulled something out of his pants’ pocket and handed it to Beel, who raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Simeon laughed.  “I remember how you always loved manna cakes, Beel, so I kept one in my pocket in case you ever decided to visit here, again.  Granted, it’s over four hundred years old, but you know food doesn’t spoil in the Celestial Realm, so it should be alright.”

Beel grinned back and greedily took the cake from Simeon’s hand, munching on it immediately.  “Thanks, Simeon,” he mumbled between bites. “I haven’t eaten since we evacuated the House of Lamentation, but I’ve been too worried to complain.”

Simeon’s jaw dropped.  “Evacuated?   Did something happen?”

Lucifer stepped forward.  “That’s what we’re here for.  We need to speak to Father, immediately.”

“Absolutely not!” Sorath bellowed, swinging his Sword wildly.  “Demons ain’t allowed in the Devildom, much less you six … er …” He did a headcount and scratched his head in confusion.  “Seven?  Swear there were only six males last time.”

“Sorath.”  Simeon’s smile twitched a bit as if he was barely tolerating the other angel.  “I urge you to let me handle this.”  

Sorath frowned but sheathed his Sword.

However, when Simeon turned to the seven demon brothers, his smile fell and he sighed sadly.  “Sorath is right, I’m afraid.  I can’t let you pass these gates.”

Lucifer frowned.  If Simeon wouldn’t let him and his brothers into the Celestial Realm peacefully, they would have to resort to their original plan, and seeing Beel happily crunching on the manna cake Simeon had given him made him really not want to do that.  He decided to try one more tactic.  “If you’re worried that Father will be angry with you for defying His orders, don’t worry, we’ll take the blame.”

Simeon sighed, considering the offer.  “Tell me what happened first.”

Mammon stepped forward.  “There’re all these weird earthquake things goin’ on in the Devildom—which is bad ‘cause Satan says earthquakes aren’t possible in the down there ‘cause of tactical plates or somethin’—”

“— Tectonic plates,” Satan corrected.

“—And all these black fires sprung up, too, in the House of Lamentation and they ain’t natural.  Diavolo’s missin’ and his Castle’s been destroyed by the flames.  We’re thinkin’ someone in the Celestial Realm had somethin’ to do with it,”  Mammon finished.  

Simeon looked shocked.  “That’s impossible!  Sorath and I have been guarding these gates all day—no one who isn’t supposed to leave has gone in or out.”

Belphegor shrugged.  “Humans can’t typically access the Devildom and the only ones who would mess with demons are angels, so whoever started the fires and is responsible for the quakes must be from up here.”

Lucifer nodded.   “We need to speak to Father and get to the bottom of this.”

“What happened to the rest of the demons in the Devildom?” Simeon asked, ignoring Lucifer’s request.

“We assume that most of the lower-level demons fled because of the quakes—they aren’t strong enough to withstand them—and that some were crushed in the wreckage,” answered Satan.  

“And the House of Lamentation?  You said you evacuated it?”

Leviathan scratched his neck.  “To be honest, we didn’t stick around to see what had happened to it; I think, “ he looked around at his brothers, “it’s probably been destroyed with the rest of the buildings in the Devildom.”

Simeon groaned and ran a hand down his face.  “I can say without a doubt that this wasn’t the work of an angel, but … I suppose this is serious.”  He stepped aside and pushed open one of the gates as Sorath stared at him, aghast.  He turned back to the brothers with a stern glare.  “You promise you’re here simply to speak with Father?  And not to incite any kind of drama?”

“Yes,” answered Lucifer truthfully.  “All we’re here to do is have an audience with Father.  Nothing more.”  And with that, Lucifer and his brothers walked into the Celestial Realm for the first time in what seemed like forever.

However, before they could make it more than a foot past the gates, Simeon put a hand out to stop them.  

A collective groan went up from among the group.  

“What now? ” wailed Asmo.      

Simeon locked eyes with Lucifer, who could see the worry pooling in them.  “Lucifer, are you sure that you want to enter this Realm?  I see that you still have Michael’s Mark of Destruction on your forehead, and I assure you, he very much still recognizes it as a symbol of his promised annihilation.”

Lucifer ignored the fearful looks that went up among his brothers and nodded.  “Let him come.”

“Oh, wonderful, another Celestial Realm story I’ve yet to be told,” Satan complained.  “What do you mean, ‘a symbol of his promised annihilation?’”

A silence went up from among the group and Satan raised his eyebrows as all the current and former angels looked to the ground and didn’t meet his eyes.  

Lucifer, who was not so concerned with the black diamond that afflicted his forehead, but rather the long-since forgotten story that went along with it, spoke up.  “You remember Michael, Angel of Destruction, yes?”

Satan nodded.  “Luke’s idol and your boyfriend from the Celestial Realm.”

Asmodeus, Belphegor, and Mammon snickered as Lucifer blushed.  How did so many people come to such a foolish conclusion?  It was a thought that plagued him constantly when he told others of Michael; was it not clear that the pair shared solely what many called a “bromance?”  

“I—no.  Don’t be ridiculous.  As it were, Michael is a powerful angel, so powerful that Father gave him the title of Archangel, as he did for me.  However, I wager that Michael surpassed even me in power,” Lucifer explained.

“Easy winnings, considering Lucifer as an angel was pretty lame,” interjected Mammon cheekily.

Lucifer turned toward his younger brother with a glare.  “And yet somehow I managed to overpower you at every turn.”  He rolled his eyes and continued, “Now, where was I?  Yes, Michael was the extremely powerful Angel of Destruction.  However, Michael was an incredibly peaceful angel, for he believed that his title has cost him more than it gave to him.  As a passive soul, it did not bode well with him when Father made him General of His heavenly legions.”

“Typical Father,” Belphie spat, “putting people into positions that they don’t do well in and then blaming them when they fail.”

Simeon was quick to defend his master.  “On the contrary, Father put him in charge of the armies and gave him the title of Angel of Destruction because he had no desire to destroy, for He knew that putting a more volatile angel in that role could cause unnecessary destruction.”

“Whatever the case may be,” Lucifer explained, “Michael wanted everyone to know that he was careful in what he destroyed—perhaps even to teach them a lesson in caution, so he developed a symbol in the shape of a black diamond to mark upon those he believed that deserved to be destroyed.  That mark can only be passed when the pommel of his Sword of the Spirit is pressed upon the skin, and it lasts there until he destructs whatever is marked.”

“Wait—” Satan interrupted.  “That black diamond on your forehead in your demon form … that’s Michael’s Mark of Destruction?”

Lucifer bowed his head.  “Yes.  It symbolizes a promise that the next time that he and I meet … he will destroy me.”

“Which is why I’m hesitant to let Lucifer into the Celestial Realm,” admitted Simeon.  “Sorath and I let Michael out to do his rounds in the Human World several hours ago, and there’s no telling what time of the day he’ll be back.  And if he arrives to see Lucifer …”

“He’ll have to fulfill the marking he made on me that day,” Lucifer finished.  He bit his lip.  He knew better than anyone that Michael was an angel of his word … but they really did need to get into the Celestial Realm to talk to Father.  

He looked around at his brothers, who stared back at him with eager eyes.  He knew that despite their tendencies to say the most idiotic things, when the chips were down, the six were quite eloquent and would no doubt be able to take a stand in debates with their Father.  However, Lucifer knew that the only one with any real leverage with the Almighty was him, considering his past as an Archangel granted him great favor with the King.

He sighed. 

He had to go in.

Lucifer walked past Simeon and farther into the Celestial Realm.  “Your concern is very kind, Simeon, but it’s imperative that my brothers and I see our Father.”  He turned behind him to ensure that his brothers were following him and nodded.  “If Michael finds me and wishes to challenge me, then so be it.”

“Wait!” Simeon cried, running after the party, eliciting another round of groans.  He panted as he reached them before holding up a finger and saying, “If you’re to go to Father’s Palace, you’re going to need someone to escort you.”

Leviathan raised an eyebrow.  “Uh, we know where His Palace is.  We’ve lived here before!”

“Yeah, we know our way around the Celestial Realm,” agreed Mammon.

“I know,” Simeon affirmed, “but for sure the Palace guards aren’t going to let you in by yourselves.  Having me along might help the process go smoother.”

The Palace guards, Lucifer realized.  He had completely forgotten about the angels that defended their Father’s home.  He massaged his temples.  “I guess it would be better if you came along with us.”

Simeon beamed.  “Sounds good.  Walking there together will also give us a way to catch up on the little things.”

“Oh, goody,” Belphie muttered under his breath as the group waited for Simeon to signal to his fellow Gatekeeper that he was leaving.  Sorath rolled his eyes and turned back to stand sentinel before the Celestial Realm’s pearly gates.

Despite Simeon’s desire to “catch up,” the party of eight walked in silence through the gold-paved streets, which were completely empty.  

“Where is everyone?” queried Satan, raising an eyebrow at the deserted city.  “This looks just like the Devildom before we left, save for the fact that everything in the Celestial Realm hasn't been destroyed.”

It was Belphegor who answered, “Everyone’s usually busy during the day.”  His voice dropped low as he grumbled, “Slothfulness is highly discouraged in the Celestial Realm.”

Beel shuffled closer to him.  “Don’t worry, Belphie, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to rest.”

“Speakin’ of wanting to rest,” Mammon began, “you retire from bein’ one of the Archangels, or somethin’, Simeon?”

“How could you do that?” asked Asmo.  “You’re wasting your good looks on a job as humdrum as Gatekeeping.”  

Lucifer watched Simeon’s omnipresent smile flicker at the question.  Clearly this was a sore subject for the angel, and he could see why.  Archangels were innately mighty beings, and it was for that they were given their titles.  Gatekeepers, one of the subclasses of Guardian Angels, were angels that were weak and not much use to the Father, except for guarding the gates.  Going from almighty Archangel to lowly Gatekeeper was a long way for an angel to fall in prestige.

Simeon sighed and fiddled with the grip of his Sword of the Spirit, which was slung in its sheath across his hips.  “I … didn’t retire.”

The seven brothers stopped in their tracks.  Lucifer could feel his jaw drop.  “You—you didn’t retire?”  That could only mean one thing … “Father renounced your title of Archangel?”  

“What?  Why would He do that?” Mammon demanded.  “Ya were always so good at doin’ that whole condescendin’-but-kind Archangel thing!” 

Suddenly, a horrible thought crept into Lucifer’s mind, and if it was true, he really was glad that they had decided not to pummel Simeon.  “When … when did this happen?”

Simeon wouldn’t meet his eyes.  “A few hundred years ago.”

“A few hundred years ago?” repeated Satan.  He surveyed his ex-angel brothers.  “You mean around the time of the Fall?”

When Simeon didn’t answer, Lucifer ran a hand down his face and groaned.  “Simeon, don’t tell me that you lost your position because of us.”

Simeon looked up, biting his lips.  “Someone had to tell Father that kicking His children out of their home and disowning them isn’t proper discipline!”  He paused to regain his composure.  “After visiting you all in the Devildom for that exchange program all those years ago made me realize that it was there that you were truly happy, but back then, I couldn’t believe that.  I thought it was unjust and unmerciful of Father to throw you out of the Celestial Realm for the War, and I told Him that to His face.”

Lucifer sighed.  It was just as he suspected.  Poor, stupid, naïve Simeon.  Poor, truthful, honest, Simeon.  

Belphegor let out an unsympathetic laugh.  “You lost your high-and-mighty position sticking up for a group of rebels!”

Lucifer tactfully stepped on Belphie’s foot to shut him up.  Although the action had the desired effect, the seventhborn scowled at him and returned the favor with double the force.  “That really wasn’t necessary, Simeon, but, I’ll admit it’s nice to know that someone has our backs up here in the Celestial Realm.”

The angel nodded.  “I’d do it again,” he declared valiantly.  “But I suppose that’s enough chitchat, for we’ve arrived.”

Indeed, the group now stood at the foot of God’s Palace.  The gargantuan structure was bigger than any building in the Devildom and was thrice as fine.  

The Palace was built with massive marble bricks and the mortar that held them together was molten gold (and somehow maintained its structural integrity).  Rare gemstones adorned the hundreds of entryways and the roof was composed of an entire sheet of diamond.  There were no windows in the Palace, for what was the point of natural light when the actual Light of the World resided inside it?

Lucifer stared at the edifice in awe, for despite seeing the Palace thousands and thousands of times, he’d yet to overcome the amazement that someone would build something so tacky. 

“Talk about overcompensating,” Asmo muttered.  

Simeon led the group toward the main entrance, where two Palace guards stood sentinel.  They frowned and immediately unsheathed their Swords of the Spirit with a growl when they saw the seven demons trailing behind Simeon.

However, they stood down and bowed their heads when the angel held out his hand.

Lucifer nodded appreciatively; it seemed that despite being relegated to Gatekeeper, Simeon still commanded the level of respect he had when he was an Archangel.

As the brothers and Simeon walked into the Palace, the seven demons were forced to stop and take in all the splendor.  Lucifer had to admit, despite the gaudiness of the exterior of Father’s Palace, the interior design was sheer perfection.

Rose gold columns broke up the immense foyer, which was covered in white-and-gray dappled tiles.  Enormous rose quartz chandeliers hung from the ceiling and glittering sconces adorned the walls.  Two staircases, railed in marble, were the centerpieces of the room, and Lucifer knew all too well where each led: to the left was Father’s Hall of Judgement, and to the right was His Throne Room.

“I forgot how gorgeous the heavenly aesthetic was,” Asmodeus said, dreamily taking in the beauty of the room.

Lucifer noticed from the corner of his eye that Mammon had floated upward and was unscrewing one of the sparkly sconce covers from the wall.  “Mammon, get your grubby paws off of that,” he hissed.  “Do you want us to get kicked out already? ”

“C’mon,” Mammon grumbled, reluctantly rejoining the group empty-handed.  “Do ya know how much those’d sell for?”

Simeon smiled tolerantly.  “Lucky for you seven, Father isn’t holding court today and is in His Throne Room.”  He bowed his head.  “This is where I must leave you, though.  Going inside to meet Father without being summoned is a grievous offense, and I’d rather not stir the beast if I can help it.”  He looked at Lucifer square in the eye.  “I trust that you will be alright.”

Lucifer nodded and reached out a hand toward Simeon, who shook it amicably.  “Thank you for your help.  We couldn’t have made it this far into the Celestial Realm without you.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Mammon concurred, and the other five chorused their gratitude, as well.

As Simeon walked away, Lucifer surveyed his brothers and nodded.  It was time for them to engage their Father for the first time in several centuries.  

The group walked stalwartly up the staircase, and from among them went a nervous grumble.  

“Anyone else havin’ second thoughts?” asked Mammon, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple.  

Leviathan bobbed his head, frowning.  “I am.  I feel like we’re about to have the final boss fight of our lives.”

Lucifer hated this—it didn’t make sense for children to be this afraid of their father, especially one who claimed to be so loving and good as theirs.  He knew that deep down inside, he too, was frightened to the core of their Father, but damn it, it wasn’t right. Where was the love in all this fear?

“Here’s the door to the Throne Room,” Lucifer announced, as the group arrived.  The door was built for giants, towering above their heads—a symbol that they were about to enter the chamber of the King of Kings.  He turned to Satan.  “You’ve never been here, before.  You do the honors.”

Satan raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue.  Taking a deep breath, he gripped the handle of the door and closed his eyes.  After a moment of silence, he yanked it open.

Lucifer walked in first, his brothers in tow.  The band of demons kept their eyes low to the ground; they knew better than to stare at God Almighty in all His glory head-on.  

“My prodigals,” a voice thundered from before them.  

Lucifer tilted his head so he could glance at the glowing white blur that sat on the Throne.  While he had seen his Father’s corporeal, humanlike form several times, most of the time, He preferred to be shrouded in the pearly radiance of His glory, which was far too bright for even angels to look directly at.  “Father.”

“I see you’ve brought another of your number.  Come forward, Satan.”

He nudged Satan to walk forward, even though the fourthborn scowled at the eldest’s touch.  Lucifer watched as Satan stalked, shoulders slung back, toward the blinding light. 

“A purebred demon,” Father mused.  “Born from your wrath, I hear, Lucifer.”

Lucifer crossed his arms unapologetically.  “You truly do know all, Father.”

“And yet I shall ask: why have you seven gathered before Me today?”

He steeled his posture.  “We need to talk, Father.”

An amused hum came from their Father, and before anyone could respond, God dropped the radiant shroud of His glory, and the seven brothers stared at the unimposing, humanlike figure that now sat on the Throne before them.  

Lucifer sighed in relief; the “intimidation tactic” of covering Himself in His blinding glory so that no one could look at Him was less frightening and more of an annoyance, so he was glad that his Father had dropped the act.  Perhaps that meant He could be reasoned with today.

“Whatever about, My prodigal?” bellowed God.

He raised an eyebrow.  One of God’s fundamental traits that He was very proud of was His omniscience—the fact that He knew everything.  It was utterly deplorable when He pretended to be unaware.  

Lucifer had felt his confidence swell once Father had dropped His glory, and he stared at the manlike form of their Father in annoyance.  “Surely you know.”

Father glared at him with equal irritation.  “I assure you, prodigal, that I do not.  Simply because I possess omniscience does not mean that I make use of it all the time.  There are times when it’s more enjoyable to hear of things as they happen rather than knowledge of them prior.”

He grit his teeth.  Typical Father.  Always trying to make things more difficult than they need to be.  “Our home, the Devildom, has been afflicted by unnatural disasters and we believe someone in the Celestial Realm is behind it.”

His Father looked shocked.  “What?   Someone has been afflicting My Devildom?”

“Technically, the Devildom’s ruled by Diavol—” Mammon interjected.

He was interrupted by their Father, who barreled on as if he hadn’t said a word.  “No one in the Celestial Realm would dare lay a finger on any of My creations, the hellish Devildom included.”  

“You must understand,” Satan implored, and the six ex-angels internally facepalmed, knowing better than to demand the Almighty to do something.  “Humans can’t typically enter the Devildom until Judgement Day, and the only creatures with enough of a vendetta against demonkind to destroy them are angels.  There have been earthquakes which shouldn’t happen in the Devildom by all accounts.  Worst of all, there have been smokeless black flames popping out of nowhere, but only in our House—”

“Smokeless black flames?” their Father asked.  He pursed His lips and held out His palm.  On it suddenly glowed an image of the same dark fire that had shown up in the House of Lamentation.  “Such as these?”

Leviathan’s eyes widened.  “That’s it exactly.”

“I knew the Celestial Realm was behind this,” Belphie spat.

“Unfortunately, Belphegor,” their Father breathed, His voice quiet all of a sudden, “you may be right.”  He closed His palm and the fire snuffed out.  “The flames which I just showed you all are a special kind of fire called Hellfire—it’s only to be used with My permission, and no one has asked of it since it was created, which is beside the point.  Hellfire is supposed to consume the Devildom once Judgement Day arrives and the damned souls of humans are brought into it.  This perpetually burning version of the Devildom will be called Hell, which is simply a pit of Hellfire in which souls are burned for all of eternity.  Therefore, I designed Hellfire so that it does not spread—it has no reason to, for all its surroundings will be Hellfire as well.  In addition, I created it so that Hellfire does not cause smoke, for what is the point of asphyxiation if those who are being tortured by it are already dead?” 

Lucifer raised an eyebrow.  He supposed it was only natural for the Creator and Destroyer of Worlds to talk about death and torture so lightly.  However, he felt the need to point out something much more serious: “You said that Hellfire is supposed to consume the Devildom on Judgement Day.  There were no flames in other places in the Devildom besides the House of Lamentation.”  Suddenly, he remembered the burning remains of Diavolo’s palace.  “And the Demon Lord’s Castle.”

“And besides, it’s not Judgement Day, yet,” Mammon realized.  He gave Father a side-eye.  “Is it?”

Father shook His head.  “No, it’s not even close.”

“So, it’s not Judgement Day, yet Hellfire was spotted without Your permission in the homes of the Devildom’s most prestigious denizens?” asked Satan, his eyes lighting with interest.  “That’s incredibly suspicious.”

“Where is this Demon Lord of yours, anyway?” Father wondered.

Lucifer felt his heart drop to his feet, cursing himself for not thinking of Diavolo in the bustle of coming up to the Celestial Realm.  “We didn’t find him.” 

Mammon, who had seen the distraught look on Lucifer’s face, turned to their Father.  “Maybe Ya could use that impotence of Yours an’ find him?”

Even Lucifer had to crack a smile at Satan’s irritated correction.  “Omnipotence, not impotence!  And besides, He’s going to use His omniscience to find where Diavolo is.  His omnipotence is what He’s going to have to use to get you to shut up.”

Their Father nodded and closed His eyes.  A moment later, He opened them.  “I was not able to find the Demon Lord Diavolo.”

“What?”  Lucifer demanded, his fingers curling into fists.  “You’re supposed to be the Almighty God!  How can You not find him?”

The Almighty shook His head and repeated, “I was unable to find him.”  He rubbed His chin.  “It’s almost like he ceased to exist.”

Lucifer couldn’t believe his ears.  Cease to exist?  What did that mean?  His Father controlled all possible reality; how was it possible that He was unable to locate Diavolo?  Before he knew it, his breaths were coming in quick and shallow, and he began to feel lightheaded.  

“Whoa there, bro.” Mammon gulped as he caught his elder brother before he toppled to the ground.  “I know this looks bad, but c’mon, we’ll get through it.”

“Yeah, maybe Diavolo’s just been kidnapped and brought to an alternate universe that Father doesn’t control,” Belphegor consoled, although he couldn’t help the absolutely devilish gleam of hopefulness at the prospect in his eyes.

“Impossible,” their Father boomed.  “I created the fundamentals of existing.  Nothing can do so without Me.  I control and know of all channels of existence by default.  Although …”  He stroked His chin.  “There is sometimes a way to hide such information from Me.”

“There is?” Asmo asked.

Lucifer lightened considerably upon hearing that information.  Perhaps there was hope for Diavolo after all.  “What do You mean?”

“I told you earlier of how My omniscience works, correct?  As in, I have the capacity to know all, however, that doesn’t mean that I know all at all times.  If I want to know something, I must inquire of My omniscience. I am the only one who is able to access My omniscience, but if someone else were able to do so, they would be able to alter the information found in it.”

“Whoa, so what You’re saying is … someone can hack Your brain?” exclaimed Levi, his mouth agape.  “That’s literally straight out of an anime!”

“You have to ignore him,” Belphie told their Father drily.  “Levi is a godless, godless soul.”

Lucifer shook his head at the newfound information.  If what Father had described was truly what had happened, then they were in a lot more trouble than they thought.  How could someone access their Father’s omniscience?  What motive could someone have to hide information from the Almighty?  He gulped.  There was no way that this could end well.  

Suddenly, Satan gulped, his face ghostly white.  “I told you all earlier that it was suspicious that the Hellfire was found at both our and Lord Diavolo’s homes, considering all of us compose the Devildom’s government, but here’s what’s more worrying: whoever erased Father’s knowledge of Diavolo’s whereabouts is most likely the one who kidnapped him—which is what we’re believing for Lucifer’s sake, not that he’s dead—and since our house was also targeted, that means we’re next.”

Lucifer watched as the rest of his brothers blanched, becoming as pale as Satan.  He whipped toward his Father.  “Can You discern who is responsible for this?”

“It seems that that information has been taken, as well,” Father admitted, shaking His head.

Lucifer ran a hand through his hair, whether it was from frustration or fear, he didn’t know.  He turned toward Mammon, who looked at him with equally mixed emotions.  “Whoever it was that caused the earthquakes, tore up the Devildom, used Hellfire without Father’s permission, kidnapped Diavolo, stole information from Father, and is possibly coming after us … we can certainly take them on … right?”

Mammon scratched his neck.  “I mean … I don’t know.  I think … I think honestly we should lay low for a bit before we consider gettin’ ready for some kinda confrontation.” 

“Lay low?  Lay low where?  The Devildom is just an amalgamation of lava fissures and rubble now,” said Satan.

“The Celestial Realm?” Asmo suggested.  “I mean—I mean, it’s not like I want to stay here or anything, but if we can’t go back home …”

“Absolutely not,” their Father barked.  “The Celestial Realm is for angels.  You seven lost the privilege of living here centuries ago.”

Lucifer swallowed his rage at his Father’s tone, remembering that the safety of his family was on the line.  “Okay, Father.”  He took a deep breath to calm himself once more.  “Then where do You expect us to go?”

His Father tapped His hands together and hummed, before snapping His fingers.  “The Human World.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” reasoned Satan.  “That’s the last place anyone would think to look for us, especially since we’re able to blend in well.”

“Are ya crazy?  We can’t make it as humans!” Mammon argued.  “Just tryna feed Beel alone would blow our cover.”

Belphegor looked thoughtful as he said, “If we asked MC for help, they could probably help us assimilate into the Human World.”

“No,” Lucifer decided.  “We are not bringing MC into a situation as dangerous as this.  And besides, the exchange program ended over forty years ago; I’m sure MC has moved on with their lives.”

Six demon faces fell at his words, and he had to admit, he was quite saddened by them, as well.  However, it couldn’t be helped.  There was no way he was going to bother MC with this situation.  

“So it’s settled, then,” their Father decided.  “Tomorrow I shall send you and a few provisions to the Human World for your own protection.  Meanwhile, I hope that you seven shall help Me in deciphering who is responsible for this whole debacle.”

Lucifer stared at his Father pensively.  He wasn’t sure how he felt about working with the Almighty, again, but he supposed that it was better than working against Him, as before. 

He nodded.  “Sounds like a plan.”  

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #om shall we date #omswd #obey me lucifer #obey me luci #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me simeon #fanfic #fanfiction #adverbslut_writes

[ficstogo]

Belgian Waffles and Fried Oreos

Pairing: Edward Nygma x Reader

Word Count: 2,901

Summary: Hoping to have a new start in Gotham to begin your independent life, you have a run in with an intelligent man.

Warnings: None

A/N: A birthday request made by someone on Wattpad. It took awhile and sorry for the minimal Edward here.

My cheeks stung as the cool air blew past me. Already feeling the differences between Gotham and Altavista, the giddiness started to brew inside me, excited for the new life that was ahead of me. Life couldn’t get more exciting as my boots crunched against the snow and my thoughts wandered off to pleasant ideas. Of course I knew that Gotham was…not the best of places to live in when looking at its crime rate but I couldn’t help but feel happy that I was in a new location, having a new life, and now being able to have new experiences.

As my feet crunched against the snow, I stopped to raise my hand, waiting for any cabs to pull over and take me to my destination. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait too long as one of the first taxis that came down the road stopped in front of me to be their next customer.

“Where too?”

“Gotham Royal Hotel, please.” And the trip to the hotel was set. The drive there was remotely quiet except for the soft music that played in the background with the occasional horn honking in the slow traffic that the cab was stuck in. My eyes wandered to the worn down, dangerous looking streets, that Gotham is most certainly known for, which was why my family worried at the idea of me moving to this city, but when a billionaire boy wonder insist on having an interview with you for the opportunity to work with him, well, I don’t think most people would turn that down.

As my sightseeing came to end, having a large building be in front of me as well as to hear the cabbie tell me the fare, I exited the taxi and entered the hotel with my luggage right behind me. If all goes well, I’ll just be sleeping in Wayne Manor, personally helping around the home of this young man. Checking into my room, my wandering eyes continued to explore the new setting I was in as I took the elevator up. Upon entering my small dark and grey room that matched the aesthetic of the entire city, I couldn’t help but drop my weight onto the mattress, releasing a sigh as I stared up at the ceiling with thoughts being processed through my head. Bringing myself back to reality feeling as though that enough time has passed, I brought my wrist up to my face to view the time.

With wide eyes, I instantly rose up to a sitting position as time dawned on me. Swiftly rising to my feet, I grabbed my purse and dashed straight toward the door and through the main entrance of the hotel. My interview with Bruce Wayne was nearing and missing it would be the last thing on my mind. I needed this. This job was going to be my fresh start to begin a new independent life for myself. I never even realized how late my flight arrived to Gotham and now, here I am, making a mad dash to his extravagant home, hoping to arrive on time. Running right through the doors I make a sudden stop at the edge of the sidewalk, waving my arm in hopes to grab the attention of any taxi driving by once more. To my misfortune, the few that glided down the street, not bothering to stop for my convenience.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, I decided to run down to my destination instead of waiting around noticing that traffic has become heavy. If I try to get a taxi, I won’t be able to make it in time in this rush hour. I stopped for nothing, apologizing to any person I ran into and continued on with my mission and because of my one-tracked mind, I suddenly heard a loud honk coming towards my way and my body hitting hard against the pavement as my head took in most of the heavy impact. With a weight on top of me, my vision suddenly gotten blurry and then heavy eyelids obscured my vision as I was knocked out from consciousness.

.~.~.~.~.

My head hurt. It felt heavy with a pounding to put in extra pain to what I already have. The light made my eyes sting and a crick in my neck only made me feel even worse but besides that, a sudden drop to my stomach came to me as I noticed where I was. My breath was caught in my throat and I couldn’t help but slowly rise up from a bed and observe the area, knowing there was fear in my eyes. My fight or flight instinct suddenly reached an all time high as I heard a bustling coming from the other side of the door. Looking around the edge of the bed and around, I tried to see if my purse was anywhere near by and if any of my belongings were discarded around. But as I kept looking, the sound of the door opening took me by surprise as my eyes widened to see a tall, sharp dressed man enter with a tray. Cowering away slowly as he continued to walk forward, I finally heard his baritone voice break the silence. “Oh good! You’re awake. I was afraid that you would still be knocked out for another day.”

With a shaky small voice, I gained the courage to talk to my likely kidnapper. “W-Where am I?” As he placed the tray on the bedside table, his dark eyes looked at me in curiosity and straighten up his stature to view even more intimidating than he was when he was standing by the door.

“Hmm? Oh! My home. Unfortunately, while I pushed out of the way of a moving vehicle, you hit your head pretty hard on the pavement and decided that it was my responsibility to make sure you get back into good health.” Thinking back, I did recall small bits from whatever had happened but thinking only caused me more pain than I wanted. “You do know who you are, correct? Where you are and where you’re from?”

“Uh, Y-yes, yes I do,” I held my head with my head to ease the pain as I finally looked up at him to answer his questions. “My name’s Y/N L/N, I’m in Gotham but I’m from Altavista…” With wide eyes, I looked at him as a sudden realization came to me. “Did you say I was here since yesterday?”

“Uhm, yes. You hit your head pretty hard, like I-”

“Oh no!”

“Oh no?” He repeated in a questioning tone with eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you have a phone?!” I asked in a panicked strained tone.

“Um, yes. In the kitchen…Why?”

“I was suppose to attend an interview yesterday and now I’ve completely missed it!” I said in distressed tone. My entire life depended on this interview, on this job, and now everything seemed as if they were slipping between my fingers. I rose myself off of his mattress and followed him out of the door into a small yet cozy kitchen. “Thank you.” I said to me as he pointed to where his phone was placed in the area.

Nervously twirling my finger through the curly cord, I awaited to hear the ringing to cease and hear the voice of either him or his proper butler to spill from the receiver. As the ringing finally came to end, my breath was held until the sound of British man answered the phone. “You’ve reached Wayne Manor, this is Alfred Pennyworth speaking.”

As my mind blanked for a minute, I instantly made sure to answer back before an awkward silence fell upon the line. “H-hello! This is Y/N, the woman that was suppose to attend her interview. I was hoping that I could speak to Mr. Wayne about my whereabouts yesterday?”

“Right. I’ll put you through.”

Waiting nervously once more, I couldn’t help but have negative thoughts of him giving up on me for not being punctual yesterday. Biting my lip until it started to become a bit painful, my breath hitched once more when I heard the young man on the other line speak. “This is Bruce Wayne.”

“Mr. Wayne! I’m so very sorry for missing the interview yesterday. I was on my way and apparently I was almost hit by car and knocked my head when they pushed me out of the way.” I hope it didn’t sound as if I was lying. Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction, and that usually leads to surprising results.

“Are you alright? You’re not terribly injured are you?” The concern in his voice sounded genuine and eased my mind, showing that (hopefully) my future boss was not a spoiled brat as I was afraid he was.

“I’m fine. Just a hit to my head that put me unconcious for the rest of the day. It would have been much worse if I actually got hit by that car.” As I said that, I looked towards the direction of the lean man who was busying himself with cleaning the dishes used to make my breakfast. I smiled a bit as I took in his physical traits. He was awfully attractive, I will admit.

“I’m glad to hear. If you like, we can reschedule your interview once you’re fully recovered. I prefer to speak to you in your best health. Just call and give Alfred a good date to have the interview.” I was amazed at how kind and mature he sounded over the phone, smiling even more as I still had the opportunity to more than likely earn this job here in Gotham.

“Thank you Mr. Wayne! I absolutely appreciate your understanding and second chance at this.”

“Of course, I just want you to recover after being in Gotham for the first time. Not a very spectacular way to spend as a newcomer unfortunately.” He chuckled out to alleviate the topic of my near death experience.

“No, but I won’t take this incident to heart,” I chuckled back. “Thank you again Mr. Wayne. I really appreciate this!” Ending the call, I turn to see the man with the tray in his hands once more, looking a bit nervous but professional at the same time.

“I brought your breakfast here, unless you want to eat in bed, then I’ll gladly take it back.”

“No, it’s alright! I think me being out of bed will help with this little creaks in my body.” I said as I placed my hand on my shoulder to show the soreness that I felt. Taking a seat at the small dining table, the scent of vanilla and waffles made a smile stretch across my face.

“I hope you’re a fan of tea. I didn’t know whether to make that or coffee but went with the more healthier choice.” He said with a smile as he took a seat in front of me. Sipping cautiously at the still hot contents of the tea cup, I was delighted at the taste that came across my tongue.

“It taste wonderful. Thank you.” Digging in at my breakfast once I felt the rumble in my stomach, I was surprised that what I thought to average belgian waffles are elevated to a magnificent taste. With wide eyes and a hand to my mouth to prevent any food from jumping out of it, I couldn’t help but give him my thoughts on it. “These waffles are amazing! How did you manage to make them taste fantastic!”

“A little secret of mine,” He smiled even more, “Maybe one day I’ll tell you what I do to add some pizazz to them.”

“I’m guessing that’s your way of saying that we should get to know each other if I ever want to know your secrets.” I said to him with a cheeky grin.

“That’s only if you’d like too.”

“Well I’m free today, that is if you don’t have anything planned.”

Finishing his sip of tea with an arched brow and a smirk, he placed his cup down and responded: “Nothing too important that requires my immediate attention but I’ll make a call to the office and inform them that I’ve inconveniently fallen ill.”

.~.~.~.~.~.

As a stranger to Gotham, Edward, as I soon found out, decided that it would be good idea to take a tour of his hometown, showing the less grittier and more lavishing side of Gotham. Finding out that he worked for the mayor, it was only understandable that he wanted to show off that part of town. I was amazed that I’ve fallen acquaintance with someone so formal and important and, to be fairly honest, he was quite attractive. I couldn’t help but steal glances at his looming figure, with his suave hair, his beautifully structured face, and lips I wouldn’t mind having against mine. As I noticed how I’ve been stirring in this attraction, I’ve started subtly flirting with him as well. I would berate myself on doing such a thing but even my inner conscious was egging me on, to take the opportunity to bring myself closer with this kind stranger.

It wasn’t only his physical features that attracted me to him, but how he was as a person and what went on in his mind. For one, he was very intelligent and that was something that liked him all the more. He explained how he use to work for the police in forensics and now he worked with the mayor who was one of his friends. The fact that he accomplished this much at his age was something to admire. Especially when I was still struggling to even make it in this world. Walks around town were spent with him giving off clever riddles that I couldn’t help but find charming and brought more fun to our outing. His entire energy was something that I was swooning over and I only hoped that he didn’t find me as boring as I thought I was, as all I ever do is stay home and read ridiculous romance novels that are far fetched to actually take place.

“I hope you enjoy sweets. I know this wonderful place that serves these fantastic fried oreos.” He said as he looked down at me with a smile as we continued to walk down the now brightening streets of Gotham.

“Sweets are bit of weakness of mine, so please, lead the way.”

.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Sitting on a park bench, Edward and I enjoyed our time by eating and talking to each other about topics that put each of us in a tangent. It had been a long while since I’ve spoken in depth with another person and it brought me a satisfying feeling.

Noticing the bit of white powder that was left on the corner of his lip while he continued to passionately talk on about everything and anything he knew, I could only giggle at both the mess on him and how one tracked his mind was as words flew out a mile a minute. When he noticed that my attention was not on what he was saying, he stopped and turned his eyes to me, as he asked, “What’s so funny?”

Smiling, I eased his mind that might have thought he had done something embarrassing and smiled. “Nothing. It’s just that,” Raising my to his face, I swiped my thumb across the corner of his lip. He looked at me with raised eyebrows and wider eyes as his adam’s apple bobbed at my action. “You’ve got some powder left on you.”  Once I finished my small innocent flirtatious action, I went ahead and took another fried oreo to eat.

“Well, it seems as though you have a bit of a mess yourself.” As quick as he said that, I felt the heat rise up to my cheeks as I felt his, what I now knew, soft lips press against the very edge of my lips. Snapping my head to look at him with my wide eyes, he too, had a red tint to his face.

With the small bit of silence left in between us, I decided to break the increasing tension by saying, “I…might be staying in town for a few days. If I get the job, I’ll being moving in…” He then slightly turned to me with a curious glint in his eye. “I wouldn’t mind having a new “friend” to have around.” Nervously looking back at him, I was surprised to see a smile on his face.

“Well even if you don’t get the job, I’m sure that the mayor could use some extra help in city hall.” He then offered more fried oreos and with a gleaming smile, I accepted it while responding, “I would greatly appreciate that as well as your help and care that you provided for me.”

“Well I couldn’t possibly leave a pretty girl on the streets while having some medical knowledge to treat her.” From there, we could only smile at each other. I only gleamed even more as I felt him scoot a bit closer as well as feeling his hand lightly touch mine. I knew from there that Gotham is going to give me the start that would go beyond my expectations and I was glad that I already have someone along to join me along for this.

#fic #my fic #one shot #imagine #edward nygma #edward nygma x reader #edward nygma fic #edward nygma fanfic #edward nygma fan fiction #edward nygma one shot #edward nygma imagine #riddler #riddler x reader #riddler one shot #riddler imagine #riddler fic #riddler fanfic #riddler fan fiction #gotham #gotham one shot #gotham imagine #gotham x reader #gotham fic #gotham fanfic #gotham fan fiction #batman

[wild-moony-joonie]

Soulmates:

 This was inspired by a fic by Ramabear, on Fanfiction.net, called “Continually adapting to stay alive.”

Author: Laura(me)

Warning: Sexual tension, XXtra gay.

Pairing(s): Kakashi/Shisui(Kakasui), Fugaku/Minato(Fugamina).

Synopsis: Kakashi had always wanted to taste the forbidden fruit, it just happened to come in the form of his soulmate.

______

Kakashi had never been one to draw on himself with a pen, or a utensil of any kind for that matter, but yet he found his hips, thighs and shins covered with the black ink markings of a pen. He pressed his thighs together firmly, so to read the words crawling across his skin like small caterpillars forming a chain of black lettering across sinewy muscle. Kakashi leaned in, brushing his hand over the careful writing that most definitely wasn’t his own sloppy and disjointed handwriting.

“My aunt was giving me a history lesson on soulmates this afternoon, and she encouraged me to write to you, if you’re even there,”

A soulmate?! Kakashi’s eyes widened by a fraction of an inch, before quickly masking his expression, despite being the only living being in his apartment. This was of course, excluding his beloved plant, Mr. Ukki.

“So, I wrote to you. I hope this doesn’t bother you, I mean, I don’t really know who you are. You could be my aunt for all I know. Which would be a little weird honestly, but everyone’s got that hot aunt right? And she’s not technically my aunt, she’s like my mother’s cousin eight times removed. Anyway, I hope you have a good day. Or had. I don’t really know. And I apologize if any of this bothers you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop. Unless you write me back saying to stop, I won’t… Stop, that is”

Kakashi blinked in surprise, taking a moment to absorb his obviously bubbly and over enthusiastic soulmate, who seemed nothing like the kind of person he pictured himself falling in love with, when he had dreamed so vivaciously. He quickly resolved that any soulmate of his, would be wholly better off without his baggage that he had strapped to his chest and shoulders with strings of fate so strong, one couldn’t simply cut through them. So he continued to strip off the remainder of his clothing, and set off to his bathroom for a long scalding shower after his last grueling mission with his ANBU team.

Shisui had never thought he had a soulmate. He thought soulmates only happened to the lucky few who could find true love. But, as it turns out, Soulmates were increasingly common, especially among shinobi above the age of 10. So Shisui wrote. The very first time it vanished, he was ecstatic. So he wrote, and he wrote every single day. A good morning wish, every time he got up at the crack of dawn to train his newly discovered Sharingan. A wish for a good day, everytime he was feeling down. He wasn’t sure when the writing on his skin became a diary of his thoughts and everyday life, but soon he found himself writing spiraling paragraphs down his calves, and over his stomach, the words blurring into Shisui himself the longer and the more he wrote them. One day, he was feeling particularly lonely, so he reassured his Soulmate that they were not alone. He wrote the three most important words over and over again in whispering lines down his forearms, and continued until it snaked around his wrist, and over his hands on either arm, grateful for his ambidextrous gift.

Kakashi had been slipping off his forearm guards for a shower in the ANBU Locker room. His gory mask, and blood splattered armor needing a serious cleaning. As he washes off dried blood, tacky on his pale arms, he notices the words curling around his forearm over and over again, spiraling until is coils around his wrist like a possessive snake. These three words repeated incessantly, and iteration of the mantra he has been told is the best medicine. Or is that laughter?

“Senpai, looks like you’ve got an admirer.” Kakashi turns, to see the smiling face of Yamato greeting him as he steps out of the shower stall. Yamato is smiling, laughing at Kakashi and the words possessively scrawled around his wrists.

“Yeah, yeah. Talk all you want Yamato, you know you’re just jealous.” He says, in a light airy tone, suggesting indifference. Hiding the what little joy he finds in knowing someone cares. Shrugging on a light crewneck sweatshirt, Kakashi ties his sandals, and hurries on his way from the Black ops compound. But soon slows down, remembering what awaits him during slumber.

Shisui was late. So so so late. His team captain was going to kill him. He had been held up watching Sasuke and had forgotten entirely about the ANBU meeting that he had to attend that afternoon. He was sprinting towards the compound, arms pumping as he went full sprint without using any chakra. Streaking across the concrete, he rushed passed a tall gray haired man. Tall, lean and muscular with one open chocolatey eye. Shisui instantly knew who he was. Hatake Kakashi. The Comrade Killer, Cold-blooded Kakashi, Son of the White Fang of the Leaf. He had to admit that he found the silver haired man attractive, but he was too busy to think about anything else but the meeting at the moment.

Kakashi smelled the boy before he saw him, thanks to his Inuzuka mother’s nose, a fragrant and enticing mix of pine, wind, and something distinctly Uchiha. A flash of pale skin, black curly hair, and red eyes bolted past him faster than any normal Shinobi could flat out sprint. Kakashi placed his scent and features in an instant. Shunshin No Shisui, the fastest Uchiha, son of Kagami, the youngest to ever acquire the Mangekyo Sharingan. Kakashi secretly liked the boys smell, he found himself inching closer at every ANBU meeting. Yearning to bury his face into the pale skin and really smell him, really feel him. But the boy was twenty, and he was twenty four. Plus they were both male, not exactly something the Uchiha clan encourages. Since no one he knew was a mind reader, he supposed he was safe to internally eye the boy from a distance. Despite how perverted that may make him, he was only human and when someone looks like Shisui Uchiha, you can’t blame the person having perverted thoughts about such a specimen. Even if he is four years younger than said person and male.

_______

“Shisui!” The shout shook him quickly out of his thoughts. Minato stood staring at him, eyes filled with concern. He hung his head in embarrassment, flushing with frustration at his scrambled thoughts. He was a shinobi, he shouldn't be distracted by a hazy brown eye and gray bedhead.

“I’m Sorry Hokage-Sama. I’m just a bit tired.” He lied through his teeth instinctively, not bothering to think about the words coming out of his mouth.

“No need to apologize Shisui. I’m sure you have a lot going on. Discovering your soulmate and all, speaking of… have you met them?” Minato’s smile was kind, and he was patient with the out of sorts and frazzled Uchiha.

“No… this isn’t even about them… I think. I mean I write to my soulmate every day and they never respond. Anyway, I just can’t stop thinking about this person since yesterday, I saw them and for whatever reason I can’t get them out of my head.” he smiled warily, afraid to say the person’s name knowing the Minato was the silver head’s team leader, and teacher growing up.

“Ah. Having feelings for someone other than the one you are supposedly destined for.” Minato smiled knowingly, wistfully looking at the curly haired boy. “You know… Kushina isn’t my soulmate. We wrote to one another for awhile, but when we found out who we were we realized a relationship was impossible. They then wished me the best of luck and I told them the same.”

“Do you regret it? Not choosing your soulmate?” Shisui is intent now, looking at the Hokage for guidance with wide and hopeful eyes. Yearning for an answer like a man stranded in the desert thirsted for water.

“Sometimes. They are my best and closest friend, and I couldn’t have hoped for more. I devoted myself entirely to Kushina and Naruto. I couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome.” He smiled again, turning in his chair in to look out over Konoha from his office.

“Thank you Hokage-Sama,”

“Anytime Shisui.”

_____

Minato was slightly bothered by his conversation with Shisui earlier that day, second guessing his decision to stay with Kushina. He shook his head quickly dismissing the thoughts. He had a son, his son’s future relied on him. He couldn’t afford to disappoint his wife or his son. They were far too important to him, no matter the value his Soulmate held in his heart. His oldest and closest friend. He found himself absentmindedly chewing on a pen when a knock on the doorframe shook him clear of his thoughts.

“I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something? I can leave.” The tall Uchiha clan leader stood in his doorway, broad shoulders taking up most of the doorframe, a frown permanently etched on his features.

“No, but I was talking about you to Shisui today,” Minato smiled at his friend, watching the corner of the older man’s eyes crease in suspicion.

“Oh?” Fugaku’s lips pursed as he said this, one eyebrow rising in both curiosity and masked fear. The blonde waved his hands dismissively,

“Don’t worry he doesn’t know my soulmate is you,” Minato stood up, maneuvering his way over to his friend, and pressed his forehead against the dark haired man’s shoulder. Abandoning his paperwork for the worry wuss standing in his office.

“Shush! Don’t say that so loud! You are the Hokage, and a married man at that.” Fugaku panicked, his deep voice scolding Minato for his negligence. Nervously shoving the shorter blonde away from him, and walking to the door, looking out into the hallway and then closing the door. Minato rolled his eyes.

“Fugaku, no one is here but us. It’s two in the morning. We are the only ones here. Calm down.”

“We live in a village of Shinobi whose specialty is to spy.”

“And I am the best of them, otherwise I wouldn’t be wearing this coat, now would I?” Minato grinned, slinking to his desk and perching on it. Crossing his legs and grinning like the cat who had caught the canary.

“You’re one of the best, and happen to have a pretty face and look good in a jounin’s uniform. I wouldn’t call that much in Konohagakure.”

“Oh so you think I’m pretty?” Minato now folded his hands under his chin and batted his eyelashes, the brunette rolling his eyes at his superior’s childish antics.

“Hokage sama-”

“Please just call me Minato, I hate the titles.”

“I’m afraid if I don’t, certain things might happen.” Fugaku frowned at the blue eyes staring intently into his.

“Scaredy cat,” Minato scoffed,

“Not my fault you’re a flirt,” He retorted, giving him a look.

“What did you come here for? You don’t just drop in to say hello.” Minato was now standing in front of the Uchiha, hands on his slender hips. Suddenly all business.

“I needed to check in on Itachi’s progress in the ANBU. Some of my clanmates are concerned with his behaviour. And despite him being my son, I have to do what the public asks.” He replied, a sadness sweeping over his face. “ I’m beginning to wonder if it was right for me to let him join the ANBU.”

“You did what you thought was best,” Minato was there in an instant to comfort the elder man. He gripped Fugaku’s shoulders firmly in his hands,

“You tried to give him the next task on his path as a Shinobi. No one is perfect Fugaku, you can only do what you think is best.”

“I want the best for him. I sometimes wonder if he should never have become a Shinobi. He is far too gentle, and loving to wear such a heavy burden.” Fugaku had pressed his face into Minato’s neck, and wrapped his arms around his waist. They were so occupied with their tight embrace, Minato’s hands stroking up and down Fugaku’s back to comfort him, that they failed to notice the tall gray haired Shinobi awkwardly half opening the door.

“Ah, sorry Sensei. I saw you were here so I came for some advice. I can leave if I’m interrupting.”

“No worries Kakashi. I was just saying goodbye,” Fugaku released the blonde man, straightening up and giving the gray haired man a small smile. Nodding goodbye to them both.

“Sensei-”

“Please just call me Minato,” The Hokage sighed, retreating to the seat behind his desk. Frowning slightly as he returned to his seat, never getting to ask Fugaku what he had wanted to.

“ I’m having some problems. I’ve found out just this week that I had a soulmate, he writes to me every day,” At this Minato’s eyebrow shot up, realizing in that split second exactly who Kakashi’s soulmate is. Kakashi noticed, and realized he must know. The silver haired man nervously closed the door behind him.

“Do you know who my soulmate is?” Kakashi placed both of his hands on the desk, and leaned forward, anxious to hear whom he was destined to spend the rest of his life with.

“I do know. But I can’t say, they don’t know it’s you either. I had a Black Ops meeting with them this afternoon, which is when they expressed their concern.” Minato folded his hands in his lap, and observed Kakashi. His usually stoic and cool student had fear and hope etched into his very skin.

“Who is it? Please, you have to tell me. I need to know, they’ll be far better off without me.” Kakashi’s voice was firm as he backed away from the desk, slipping both of his hands into his pockets. Suddenly the door slammed open again, to reveal a disheveled curly haired Uchiha. His jounin’s vest was slipping off of one shoulder, his hair was wind blown to one side, and the dark circles under his eyes were nearly as dark as his eyes. Kakashi shied away from the boy, trying to avoid the scent that intoxicated him so much.

“Shisui?! What’s the matter?” Minato stood quickly, instantly serious.

“I came to report right after the Uchiha Clan Meeting,” Shisui stood straight as a board in spite of his messy appearance.

“And?” Minato asked, worry filling his face.

“Fugaku-Sama’s clone managed to subdue them for now. He seems to be protecting someone on our side Sir.”

“Please call me Minato, and I think I know who he’s protecting.” Minato’s eyes narrowed, mentally noting to drop by the compound this coming afternoon.

“Ah. Well then I have done everything asked of me. I will head home, they’ll be wondering where I am.”

“Have Kakashi accompany you. You can say that it is urgent ANBU Business, if they have questions they can come directly to me.”

“Hai!” The two shinobi chorused, turning to make their way out of the door. Kakashi was confused as to how he came asking for advice, and ended up escorting his junior ANBU member home.

They sprinted back to the Uchiha Compound, urgency pressing in every step. Shisui’s face contorted with worry, his eyebrows furled as he leans forward into the wind. His ANBU vest pressing tight against his chest from the wind. The younger boys curly hair a mop of onyx as he hurries home. His companion’s gray bedhead unmoving despite the highwinds from both of their quick speed. They stumble to the front of the compound, Shisui’s grace is monumental compared to the Copy Nin’s slight fumble as he lands.

They are greeted by two guards, who nod to a briskly walking Shisui, Sharingan blazing and whirring. They stop to observe Kakashi, and both of their eyes glance to the covered Sharingan in his left eye socket. In a flash, both Uchiha Guards release their Katana’s and step in front of Kakashi.

“We won’t allow you to enter thief!” Spittle flies from the lips of the smaller one on the right. His lip curling over his bared gleaming teeth. Threatening the Hatake, while the other simply glares at the silver-haired man. Shisui hears the encounter, and freezes in his steps. The two Uchiha Guards turn to find themselves caught in the menacing gaze of a Shuriken-like Mangekyo.

“Leave him be. He’s with me.” Shisui’s voice is commanding, red tones of anger flash in his voice as his hand rests on the katana resting between his shoulder blades. His deep tenor rumbling forward from beneath his ANBU vest, demanding respect and reverence.

“We don’t take orders from you,” Hissed the first one, looking over his shoulder to meet Shisui with his own Sharingan.

Shisui moved his foot as though to take one step forward, and in a blur of black and gray and a whoosh of Shisui scented wind Kakashi found himself swept up by a set of strong muscled arms and whisked away from the gates of the Uchiha Compound and up over the walls onto the roof of the nearest house. The long pale arms tightened around the older man, one arm wound around his waist and the other was underneath his knees.

“I CAN walk if you didn’t know,” Kakashi’s sarcastic jibe bit through the silence clouding the air.

“I can’t let you walk these streets alone. Many Uchiha’s don’t trust or respect you because of the eye that sits in your left socket. They can’t touch you If I carry you.” Shisui looks the older man dead in the eye(s), “Besides, I don’t think you could keep up with me.”

Kakashi merely grunts in agreement as the boy carrying him leans slightly forward, and takes off with the speed of the wind. The air ripples through the mop of onyx curls, and Kakashi has never been so intoxicated. Kakashi is intoxicated by every movement that the boy makes. His swirling and whirling sharingan tomoe pulls Kakashi in, and makes him wish he could ruin this boy.

So he does.

He grabs the front two straps of Shisui’s vest, and in a blinding fast movement that leaves him breathless, he crushes their lips together in a messy kiss. Hands came up and pulled down his mask, Shisui crushed their mouths back together. A mess of teeth and spit, simply pure passion. Neither were inexperienced, but neither had ever felt such strong chemistry. Shisui pulled away, gasping. His eyes glued to Kakashi’s smirking mouth.

“So you’ll stay at my place, yeah?”

#shisui #kakasi hatake #kakashi #naruto #fanfic

[nethwan]

Souvenir II

Note: Before someone complains: for this AU, they have the appareance of young people. She seems to be 15/16 and he is like around 18.

Nationverse / Hurt-comfort

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23601940

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13549679/1/Souvenir-II

_____________________________

Taiwan took the lead as the Netherlands struggled to keep up, yawning and feeling sick. The previous afternoon, he had come back from a business trip and he had no time to rest. Now they were on their way to look for that blue little bird that she took care. However, as they were moving forward, he wasn’t worried about his exhaustion, but his regret about what happened that afternoon.  

Back on the island, Taiwan received him willingly and of her own free will, but he was tired and had a headache. So when she told him a lot of things at the same time and reproach him his delay, he didn’t have any tact to reply.

“You know very well that I have better things to do than wasting my time here with you” he said with such boredom, looking at her as if she were an insignificant being.

The girl was silent, looked away and bit her lip to keep from cry.

“You'd better not have returned” she murmured, leaving him alone.

That night, Taiwan went to sleep early, without talking to him. Those words hurt. They hurt even more than the first time they heard them, but in those years none of them cared, it was enough to ignore each other.  Now it was different, things between them had changed. The Netherlands got a lump in his throat, remembering her disappointed face and how her smile disappeared, but he wasn’t ready to face her, he knew she wouldn’t listen.

The next morning, Taiwan was shocked, realizing that the bird had flown away and was no longer returning despite having a wounded leg. The Netherlands offered to help her find it. Taiwan hesitated for a moment, but ended up accepting without giving it much thought, she wanted to show him that she didn't care what he did either.

As soon as they got going, she decided to go ahead so as not to have to see him and perhaps lead him down the worst paths, deliberately, hoping that he would fall. He observed her, in silence. Part of his fatigue was also because of how much he had been wondering why he had acted that way and how he should apologize, but he felt his words wouldn’t be enough.

They spent the whole morning searching and going through every possible place, without success. They walked in silence for a while, until they arrived to a point very inside the woods. Then they decided to rest. Taiwan seemed frustrated, but resigned, as if she already knew she wouldn’t see that bird again. The Netherlands wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know what to say.

“I’m hungry, I think I’ll eat near the river, besides, I need to wash my hands” she said, taking her portion of food.

“Wait, it's dangerous for you to go alone”

“I can do it without help. Besides you are very slow, you would be a burden” she replied quietly, without seeing him.

He didn’t stop her and let her go, while he hid from the sun at the shade of a tree, feeling even more miserable. To be honest, he hadn’t stop thinking about her since the very first moment he had to go; obviously those words were a lie. For some time now, he started developing feelings for her, it was something he wasn’t expecting and he couldn’t avoid it. Taiwan had the appearance of a teenage girl, small and delicate; she had long chestnut hair, tanned skin, and beautiful brown eyes, and in spite of her impetuous and defiant nature, she completely captivated him.

What they had felt different from his relationship with other nations. She was the only one who had been able to get close, as she was not afraid of him and could look him in the eye. If only he could be honest and tell her all what his heart kept, he thought, while he observed the necklace he got for her in that trip. He sighed and put the gift in his pocket. He laid there and closed his eyes, enjoying the fresh breeze and the relaxing sounds of the woods, recalling the smile on her pretty face and finally he fell asleep.

Taiwan didn’t go far; she wanted to hide from him. After having spent much of the morning as if nothing, she felt even more hurt, realizing he didn’t care at all. Then when it was time to take a break, she couldn’t help and started crying, and that’s why she couldn’t see him in the eye. She hated to feel like that. She had so many mixed feelings about him at the time that it was difficult for her to say for sure what she really felt. Now with what he had told her it was clear that it was not mutual.

After venting enough, Taiwan decided to return. She was about to tell him that it was time to go back home, but she found him completely asleep, exhausted from the journey, work and that walk to the woods. At that moment she thought of playing a practical joke on him. She took some insects and decided to put them on his face. He smiled at the thought of how much it would make him pay for all that grief. Everything was going well, she was ready to making him suffer, but when she got closer to him and saw him, she didn't feel like bothering him anymore.

She knelt down next to him and observed him carefully, analyzing every detail of him. She suppressed a smile, thinking that in spite of his hundreds of years, he still looked and behaved like a young boy. She noticed he was thinner and baggy-eyed, and she worried because maybe he endured hungry. She moved away a leaf he had on his hair and she caressed it softly, even though his hair was in a spiky style it was still soft. Its clear color caught her attention when it was illuminated by the sun. The scar on his forehead gave him an intimidating air, but the expression he had in his sleep was serene. His skin was more tanned than when she met him and it looked burnt by the sun, and his hands were rough for all that hard work.

Then she realized that she didn't hate him one bit, not even if she tried to convince herself otherwise. And when she saw his lips, an idea crossed her mind that terrified her, but she knew that if she didn’t dare maybe she wouldn’t have any other chance. She approached him slowly, as if a force were attracting her and she swallowed saliva without believing what she was about to do. She held her breath and finally kissed him. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, she only touched his lips with hers, hoping to confess even if he didn’t notice it.

However, he wasn’t asleep. At first he slept a few minutes, but when he heard her approaching, he didn’t want to move, he guessed she was planning something and whatever it was, he was willing to put up with it as long as she got her revenge. But that didn’t happen, she stayed there next to him and he had to pretend he was sleeping to no scare her, and then it happened what he never imagined. At that moment, time stopped, he could only feel the warm and soft contact of those sweet lips and the smell of the grass mixed with her scent. Then he opened his eyes and grabbed her by the wrists so that she would not run, while she tried to get away with all her strength.

“No! Let me go! You’re hurting me, idiot” she screamed.

“Then why you did that?” he asked in the softest tone he could.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I don’t know why I did it…” she sobbed, scared, repentant for the first time of her impulses.

The Netherlands looked at her and then pulled her to himself by wrapping his arms around her. Taiwan tried to get away, hitting his chest with her fists, but when she realized he wasn’t trying to hurt her but to embrace her, she slowly calmed down. It was such a clumsy hug, typical of someone who was not used to receiving affection and much less giving it. She could hear his heart beating fast and sense his restlessness. They were like this for a moment that felt eternal. Not even he could explain that reaction to himself, he simply wanted to do it, and he wanted to have her close to him even for an instant.

“Forgive me for what I told you yesterday… actually I missed you so much, from the very moment I left. You were in my thoughts day and night… and I didn’t know how to tell you…” he whispered.

Taiwan was silent. She wasn’t able to move yet, but suddenly she started sobbing again while he let his heart talking, telling her about his desperation for understand that yearning to be by her side. And like her, he was crying too.

Several seconds later, he let go of her slowly, hoping she'd run away, but she didn't. Instead, she stood there, kneeling in front of him, looking at him. Then she cupped his face with her hands, wiped his tears away, got closer to him and kissed him again. He kissed her back with confidence, but still with that clumsy tenderness disguised of shyness. There wasn’t passion in that kiss, only sincere love. When it was over, the two of them hugged again.

No matter how long it took them to meet again, the memory of that afternoon remained forever in their memories.  

#nedtai #aph netherlands #aph taiwan #hws netherlands #hws taiwan #aph nedtai #hws nedtai #fanfic

[dazzledbybooks]

Today we have the release blitz for Sarah Robinson’s WYLDE FIRE! Check it out and be sure to grab your copy today! Title: Wylde Fire Author: Sarah Robinson Genre: Contemporary Romance About Wylde Fire: Sam Wylde is ready to prove he’s more than just the privileged son of a wealthy Southern dynasty. Wyldefire Whiskey is poised to take Nashville by storm—and with any luck, overshadow the scandal of his cheating ex-girlfriend marrying his brother. The only problem? This gruff country boy has no idea how to throw a launch party that will get people talking. The answer to everything might just be Holly Glen. A party wrapped up in one tiny woman, Holly is tattooed, tempting, and exactly the event planner Sam needs to liven up his brand—and his life. He can give her what she needs, too. All it will take is a ring on her finger. Falling in real love with his fake wife was not part of the plan—but one shot of Holly isn’t going to be enough. Get Your Copy Today: Amazon US | Amazon AU | Amazon CA | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo | Goodreads [caption id="attachment_48556" align="aligncenter" width="775"] Metall hip flask with cup on wooden backdrop[/caption] Exclusive Excerpt: "You cannot do this to me, Cassie," Sam Wylde argued over the speakerphone attached to his truck's dashboard. He cringed as his Southern drawl came out a little thicker than usual. Frustration did that to him, and right now it was taking everything in him to not start cussing. With a deft twist of his wrist, he steered his truck into the parking lot next to Town Hall, cutting off another car with a halfhearted wave of acknowledgement. He needed to pick up several permits before the city offices closed, leaving no room for pleasantries. Damn, for a Saturday, the lot sure is packed. He sighed and forced his attention back to the phone call. "We've got a few months until the launch of the entire brand. Everything I've done the last two years is riding on this." "I'm really sorry," Cassie, his event planner, said from the other end of the phone. Or former event planner, apparently. "But I can't be in two places at once, and neither can my influencers and vendors. We're booked for that day now." Teetering on the brink of exploding, Sam breathed in slowly. "But. You. Signed. With. Us. First." He ground the words out slow and steady. "Technically, I haven't signed an actual contract. I was helping you out as a favor to Noah," Cassie informed him. "And where I go…so do my connections." Sam needed no reminders that his cousin was a major pain in his ass. There was no doubt in his mind Cassie quitting on the launch was directly related to Noah Wylde breaking things off romantically between the two of them yesterday. Yes, yesterday. Sam was pretty out of touch with the small-town gossip vine, but even he'd heard about the messy, public break up last night. Bringing his cousin into the business had been at the not-so-subtle suggestion of his father and uncle, and Sam had never regretted acquiescing to their demands more. Despite his frustrations with his cousin, Wyldefire Whiskey was still Sam's pride and joy. He and his cousin, along with a silent partner, Caleb Daughtry, had built their own distillery from the ground up and begun crafting their own brand of Tennessee whiskey. The first batch was being bottled now, and, in a few months, they'd be on liquor store shelves nationwide. He'd hired Cassie to plan their giant grand opening launch party at a swanky hotel in Nashville, only a short distance from the distillery—and Sam's hometown—in River Ridge, Tennessee. It was the last step in a massive public relations campaign for the entire brand. "There's no one else in town who does events this large, Cassie. Especially last minute." He hated begging, but right now, he had no other choice. Cassie was an extremely well-connected socialite across the South who had come highly recommended by his PR company. He'd already put thousands of dollars into the brand's publicity, and a launch party filled with celebrities and social influencers she'd bring was supposed to be the final piece they needed to make their whiskey a household name. "Like I said, I'm sorry," Cassie continued, zero remorse in her tone. "I'll make sure you get your check back on Monday. Have a great weekend!" The line went dead and Sam slammed his foot against the brake, coming to a dead stop in the middle of the parking lot. His hands were clenched so tightly around the wheel, there was a good chance he'd snap it in half. "Sonofabitch!" His anger bubbled over, exploding at no one in particular. Disconnecting the call, he placed his foot back on the gas and turned into the next aisle of cars to look for a spot. Pulling his truck past the open spot just enough to give him room to reverse, he shifted gears and anchored his arm behind the passenger seat, looking out the rear window. A little blue coupe turned into the spot seconds before he could. So quick, he almost missed it entirely. Are you kidding me? Sam shifted into park right in the middle of the aisle. Shoving the door open, he hopped down from the cab and stomped around the bed of his truck toward the coupe. "Hey!" he shouted at the driver, throwing his hands up in the air. "What the hell was that? You stole my spot!" Sam’s next words jammed in his throat, startled for a moment when the perpetrator, a tall, slender woman with fiery hair, climbed out of the driver's seat as he approached. As angry as he was, he was first and foremost, a hot-blooded, all-American man. It was impossible not to notice her curvy figure as she crossed her arms over her chest, or the way the sun, just beginning to drift lower in the late afternoon, illuminated the varying crimson hues in her scarlet hair. She leveled intensely silver eyes at him. Sam pushed away the distracting thoughts, trying to manage his irritation—and growing arousal. "Darlin, you parked in my spot." He tried for the nicest tone he could muster, but it still came out sounding terse. "Looks like I did." Molten eyes, somehow both angry and intoxicating, stared back at him, unrelenting. She's admitting it? His anger dissipated slightly, which he realized was a bit odd since the admission should have infuriated him. Something about her blatant honesty was disarming and…refreshing? Or maybe it was those soft pink lips that smirked up at the corners, that had him feeling…forgiving. "Excuse me?" The tiniest flash of guilt crossed her expression, but she masked it quickly, firming her jaw and pushing back her shoulders. The seductive smirk returned. "I almost crashed when you cut me off pulling into the lot. Maybe if you were paying a little more attention, rather than yelling at your dashboard, you wouldn't have nearly killed me, and you wouldn't have lost your spot. Really, I'm doing you a favor. You can take a few laps around this pretty parking lot and find your inner Zen." His mouth twitched, but he held tight, refusing to let the smile come. "So, you're…what? The karmic delivery man?" "Woman, actually, but…yeah. I guess today I am." A black tank top hugged her gentle curves and showed off one arm full of colorful tattoos as she reached into the trunk of her car and pulled out a large cardboard box then set it on the asphalt. "Someone needs to be." Her last words were quieter, as if to herself, but he heard them nonetheless. He noted the strain and tightness in her tone, and found himself wondering what the story was behind it. But then she bent down. Every coherent thought fled his brain as Sam paused to admire her blue jeans molded to a firm round ass. Damn. It'd been too long. Starting a business and having his heart broken all at the same time will do that to a man. Forcing his eyes away, Sam glanced back at his truck, resigning himself to finding another place to park. He didn't have the time to fight with this woman who was making his blood heat, in more ways than one. Plus, admittedly, he had cut her off and not even given it a second thought. She kept her back to him, continuing to unload boxes from the trunk of her car. "Sorry about cutting you off," Sam grumbled, though he knew she could still hear him. He didn't like apologies. He rarely gave them, but he felt caught off guard by her and didn't like it. "I'll let you have the spot this time." She paused slightly while he spoke, but didn't look back at him. "Let me?" When she did whirl around, her hands were straight down and fists balled. "Samuel. Jed. Wylde. You didn't let me do anything. I took that spot to teach you a lesson in manners—something you're sorely lacking." Sam raised a brow, a small smile on his lips despite the tightness in his chest. She knows me? Shit. Was she a one-night stand he'd forgotten? Another one of Noah's conquests with a vendetta for the Wylde boys now? He racked his brain, sweating when he couldn't place her. "Honestly, I don't know why I even bothered. You haven't changed one bit." Hands on her hips now, she was shaking her head in that same disapproving manner he'd gotten most of his life. He was familiar with disappointing women, and it was one of the many reasons why he kept most of his relationships to only a night or two. Between the sheets, he never left a woman less than completely satisfied. It was his life outside the bedroom that seemed to be the problem. Sam let his eyes rake over her body—from her cowboy boots to her bright pink lips. How could he have forgotten those lips? "We've met before?" She exhaled sharply, obviously annoyed. "High school." About the Author: Aside from being a Top 10 Barnes & Noble and Amazon Bestseller, Sarah Robinson is a native of the Washington, DC area and has both her Bachelors and Masters Degrees in criminal psychology. She works as a counselor by day and romance novelist by night. She owns a small zoo of furry pets and is actively involved in volunteering in her community.   Subscribe to her newsletter at www.subscribepage.com/sarahrobinsonnewsletter Connect with Sarah: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Google+ | Pinterest | Tumblr | Instagram   Enter Sarah’S Giveaway: a Rafflecopter giveaway

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[thesassybooskter]

WYLDE FIRE by Sarah Robinson: Release Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway

NOW AVAILABLE

Sam Wylde is ready to prove he’s more than just the privileged son of a wealthy Southern dynasty.

Wyldefire Whiskey is poised to take Nashville by storm—and with any luck, overshadow the scandal of his cheating ex-girlfriend marrying his brother. The only problem? This gruff country boy has no idea how to throw a launch party that will get people talking.

The answer to everything might just be Holly Glen. A party wrapped up in one tiny woman, Holly is tattooed, tempting, and exactly the event planner Sam needs to liven up his brand—and his life. He can give her what she needs, too.

All it will take is a ring on her finger.

Falling in real love with his fake wife was not part of the plan—but one shot of Holly isn’t going to be enough.

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  Excerpt

“You cannot do this to me, Cassie,” Sam Wylde argued over the speakerphone attached to his truck’s dashboard. He cringed as his Southern drawl came out a little thicker than usual. Frustration did that to him, and right now it was taking everything in him to not start cussing. 

With a deft twist of his wrist, he steered his truck into the parking lot next to Town Hall, cutting off another car with a halfhearted wave of acknowledgement. He needed to pick up several permits before the city offices closed, leaving no room for pleasantries. 

Damn, for a Saturday, the lot sure is packed. 

He sighed and forced his attention back to the phone call. “We’ve got a few months until the launch of the entire brand. Everything I’ve done the last two years is riding on this.”

“I’m really sorry,” Cassie, his event planner, said from the other end of the phone. Or former event planner, apparently. “But I can’t be in two places at once, and neither can my influencers and vendors. We’re booked for that day now.”

Teetering on the brink of exploding, Sam breathed in slowly. “But. You. Signed. With. Us. First.” He ground the words out slow and steady. 

“Technically, I haven’t signed an actual contract. I was helping you out as a favor to Noah,” Cassie informed him. “And where I go…so do my connections.”

Sam needed no reminders that his cousin was a major pain in his ass. There was no doubt in his mind Cassie quitting on the launch was directly related to Noah Wylde breaking things off romantically between the two of them yesterday. Yes, yesterday. Sam was pretty out of touch with the small-town gossip vine, but even he’d heard about the messy, public break up last night. Bringing his cousin into the business had been at the not-so-subtle suggestion of his father and uncle, and Sam had never regretted acquiescing to their demands more.

Despite his frustrations with his cousin, Wyldefire Whiskey was still Sam’s pride and joy. He and his cousin, along with a silent partner, Caleb Daughtry, had built their own distillery from the ground up and begun crafting their own brand of Tennessee whiskey. The first batch was being bottled now, and, in a few months, they’d be on liquor store shelves nationwide. He’d hired Cassie to plan their giant grand opening launch party at a swanky hotel in Nashville, only a short distance from the distillery—and Sam’s hometown—in River Ridge, Tennessee. It was the last step in a massive public relations campaign for the entire brand.

“There’s no one else in town who does events this large, Cassie. Especially last minute.” He hated begging, but right now, he had no other choice. Cassie was an extremely well-connected socialite across the South who had come highly recommended by his PR company. He’d already put thousands of dollars into the brand’s publicity, and a launch party filled with celebrities and social influencers she’d bring was supposed to be the final piece they needed to make their whiskey a household name.

“Like I said, I’m sorry,” Cassie continued, zero remorse in her tone. “I’ll make sure you get your check back on Monday. Have a great weekend!”

The line went dead and Sam slammed his foot against the brake, coming to a dead stop in the middle of the parking lot. His hands were clenched so tightly around the wheel, there was a good chance he’d snap it in half. 

“Sonofabitch!” His anger bubbled over, exploding at no one in particular.

Disconnecting the call, he placed his foot back on the gas and turned into the next aisle of cars to look for a spot. Pulling his truck past the open spot just enough to give him room to reverse, he shifted gears and anchored his arm behind the passenger seat, looking out the rear window. 

A little blue coupe turned into the spot seconds before he could. So quick, he almost missed it entirely. Are you kidding me?

Sam shifted into park right in the middle of the aisle. Shoving the door open, he hopped down from the cab and stomped around the bed of his truck toward the coupe. 

“Hey!” he shouted at the driver, throwing his hands up in the air. “What the hell was that? You stole my spot!”

Sam’s next words jammed in his throat, startled for a moment when the perpetrator, a tall, slender woman with fiery hair, climbed out of the driver’s seat as he approached. As angry as he was, he was first and foremost, a hot-blooded, all-American man. It was impossible not to notice her curvy figure as she crossed her arms over her chest, or the way the sun, just beginning to drift lower in the late afternoon, illuminated the varying crimson hues in her scarlet hair. She leveled intensely silver eyes at him.

Sam pushed away the distracting thoughts, trying to manage his irritation—and growing arousal. “Darlin, you parked in my spot.” He tried for the nicest tone he could muster, but it still came out sounding terse. 

“Looks like I did.” Molten eyes, somehow both angry and intoxicating, stared back at him, unrelenting.

She’s admitting it? His anger dissipated slightly, which he realized was a bit odd since the admission should have infuriated him. Something about her blatant honesty was disarming and…refreshing? Or maybe it was those soft pink lips that smirked up at the corners, that had him feeling…forgiving. “Excuse me?”

The tiniest flash of guilt crossed her expression, but she masked it quickly, firming her jaw and pushing back her shoulders. The seductive smirk returned. “I almost crashed when you cut me off pulling into the lot. Maybe if you were paying a little more attention, rather than yelling at your dashboard, you wouldn’t have nearly killed me, and you wouldn’t have lost your spot. Really, I’m doing you a favor. You can take a few laps around this pretty parking lot and find your inner Zen.”

His mouth twitched, but he held tight, refusing to let the smile come. “So, you’re…what? The karmic delivery man?”

“Woman, actually, but…yeah. I guess today I am.” A black tank top hugged her gentle curves and showed off one arm full of colorful tattoos as she reached into the trunk of her car and pulled out a large cardboard box then set it on the asphalt. “Someone needs to be.”

Her last words were quieter, as if to herself, but he heard them nonetheless. He noted the strain and tightness in her tone, and found himself wondering what the story was behind it.

But then she bent down. Every coherent thought fled his brain as Sam paused to admire her blue jeans molded to a firm round ass. Damn. It’d been too long. Starting a business and having his heart broken all at the same time will do that to a man. 

Forcing his eyes away, Sam glanced back at his truck, resigning himself to finding another place to park. He didn’t have the time to fight with this woman who was making his blood heat, in more ways than one. Plus, admittedly, he had cut her off and not even given it a second thought.

She kept her back to him, continuing to unload boxes from the trunk of her car. 

“Sorry about cutting you off,” Sam grumbled, though he knew she could still hear him. He didn’t like apologies. He rarely gave them, but he felt caught off guard by her and didn’t like it. “I’ll let you have the spot this time.”

She paused slightly while he spoke, but didn’t look back at him. “Let me?” When she did whirl around, her hands were straight down and fists balled. “Samuel. Jed. Wylde. You didn’t let me do anything. I took that spot to teach you a lesson in manners—something you’re sorely lacking.”

Sam raised a brow, a small smile on his lips despite the tightness in his chest. She knows me? Shit. Was she a one-night stand he’d forgotten? Another one of Noah’s conquests with a vendetta for the Wylde boys now? He racked his brain, sweating when he couldn’t place her. 

“Honestly, I don’t know why I even bothered. You haven’t changed one bit.” Hands on her hips now, she was shaking her head in that same disapproving manner he’d gotten most of his life. He was familiar with disappointing women, and it was one of the many reasons why he kept most of his relationships to only a night or two. 

Between the sheets, he never left a woman less than completely satisfied. It was his life outside the bedroom that seemed to be the problem.

Sam let his eyes rake over her body—from her cowboy boots to her bright pink lips. How could he have forgotten those lips? “We’ve met before?”

She exhaled sharply, obviously annoyed. “High school.”

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  About Sarah Robinson

Sarah Robinson is a native of the Washington, DC area and has both her Bachelors and Masters Degrees in criminal psychology. She works as a counselor by day and romance novelist by night. She owns a small zoo of furry pets and is actively involved in volunteering in her community.

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  WYLDE FIRE by Sarah Robinson: Release Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway was originally published on The Sassy Bookster

[zelvictorious]

First post, bound to be a long one.

Growing up, I was bullied for being different. In elementary school, kids made fun of the way I talked and even the teachers made fun of my stutter. It took me several years to break it, but they never cared that i nearly went deaf from an ear infection that no one caught until it was almost too late. They never cared that I had a hard time focusing on the work that was in front of me because I was worried that when I went home, I might find my mom passed out from her drinking or that my father might not come home from work that night because of it. No, all they ever saw was a kid that stuttered when he spoke, and spoke without any emotion in his voice. The fact that I liked guys more than girls seemed like an added benefit to the bullies. I liked a few girls, but it was more of a “this is what others are doing, so you should” way than anything.

To these people, I just have to say this: Fuck you. Fuck each and every single one of you. My life was hard enough trying to smile in front of my parents knowing full well that they were at the breaking point and the only thing holding them together was my siblings and me. I tried to ignore what was said, but the truth of the matter is that it screwed my confidence up and made it hard for me to make friends. The few people I do count as friends always ask me why it is that I apologize all the time, and I always shrug and say I don’t know. Honestly, I apologize so much because it has become second nature thanks to the ass holes I grew up around who thought calling me CD was funny. I apologize so much because the people who were meant to be a positive influence in my life saw me as nothing more than a “special needs” student despite the fact that I never was diagnosed with a learning disability. I never had time to do homework in elementary and middle school because I was taking care of my mom, who would be stone cold drunk by the time I got home. I was taking care of my younger brother and sister who didn’t fully understand why mom “didn’t love them enough to not drink.” I was busy making sure that my older siblings didn’t feel alone when they cried at night when they heard our parents fighting and heard the word divorce brought up again.

I dealt with a lot in my life that has lead to some piss poor decisions that I still hate myself for to this day. Things that ruined my life and and made finding work difficult. I never fully understood my dad because he was always working to provide for us, or always fighting with our mom. We didn’t know at the time that she was bipolar, or that alcohol was her trigger, all we knew was that she would drink and cause problems. Because I never knew my dad that well, I was afraid to come out of the closet. What scared me the most was when I spent the night at my friend’s house and was molested by one of the family friends I had a crush on. I didn’t know what was going on, all I knew was that the guy was touching me and it felt good, but wrong at the same time. He was doing the same thing to my friend, but stopped when he heard my friend’s mom wake up. My friend called me a fag for liking it, and mocked me because he knew I liked the guy. I ended up waiting until they all went to bed, packed my shit, and walked almost 10 miles back to my house. What hurt most though was that I couldn’t tell people what had happened to me. I was worried that I was going to be blamed for liking it and told it was my fault that it happened. I ended up having a nervous breakdown, and was committed to a psychiatric ward at a children’s hospital for a few weeks. I was released a week or two before Halloween, but never told my parents the truth about why I shut down or why it was I had so many thoughts of hurting others and myself rattling around in my head. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, and given meds that helped for a little bit but stopped after a while.

After that, my grades fell, my parents started to talk about moving again after I was finally making some friends, and I felt all alone. I still had to put on a smile for my parents, but the relationship with my dad and I grew even more jagged. I blamed him for everything I had to deal with, I blamed my siblings for my poor grades, I hated my mother for forcing me to take on a role I never wanted, and I hated myself for what happened to me. At the time, I had a crush on a boy named Ricky. He was like me, constantly bullied for things he couldn’t control, and he was always by my side. At first I thought he was annoying, but I grew to like him and even fell for him. We were bother almost 13 at the time, and near inseparable. He was the only reason I went to scouts. My biggest regret outside of the criminal things I have done is that I never told him how I felt because I was afraid of being bullied even worse for it.

When I was 15, I made a lot of bad choices. This continued on until I was 17 when I went to jail. I hate myself for all that happened and lost a lot of friendships over it. I won’t go into details about it, simply because I don’t want to relive everything again. Suffice it to say that not a day goes by that I don’t think of the people I hurt with my actions, or how each day I struggle to keep thoughts of suicide away. My boyfriend knows what I did, so does his family, and none of them care. They tell me I need to let go and move on, but I can’t do that.

I used to work at a convenient store on the third shift. I was held up twice in 3 years, which is low considering a lot of other stores got hit weekly in my area. I kept telling everyone I was fine and that it was nothing, but the truth was I didn’t care, and it scared me. I remember staring at the gun and thinking to myself, “Well, I guess this is it then,” like it was some kind of predetermined thing. Obviously I lived and kept working there for another two years. The second time I was robbed, I never saw the weapon because the guy stood behind me, but I still didn’t feel anything.

Yesterday, 08/11, I had one of the worst episodes I’ve had in years. I was cooking breakfast for my boyfriend when I just felt wrong. All the thoughts of what I did and what happened to me came rushing back, and then I found myself with a butcher’s knife resting on my wrist thinking, “It will be quick.” I threw the knife away and nearly cried because of it. The last time I had come that close to was when I was about 14 and had just swallowed a bunch of sleeping pills my dad kept. I realized what I had done and threw them up, just like I threw away the knife. My boyfriend came into the kitchen and found me standing there with my eyes closed whispering to myself to stay calm.

My boyfriend and I have been together for over four years now. I was married to his best friend despite not wanting to marry her. I thought she was nice and was still in the closet so it ended up that she thought I loved her because we were “together” for almost 8 years. The truth is though, there has only been one woman I ever loved, but I knew I wasn’t right for her. It didn’t matter how her life was worse than mine or that we were both mad for the other, it was the fact that I knew it was temporary and I’d find myself in a man’s bed. I couldn’t hurt my best friend that way, but she already knew I was gay at the time. She is still the only woman I have ever loved, my ex-wife was just the convenient cover that I used to keep my dad from learning that I was gay. I ended up cheating on my ex when I realized her friend was gay and had a crush on me. Before him, I had only had one other boyfriend named Sam.

Sam was an egotist who loved to lie and do drugs. I never knew any of that while we were dating. All I knew was that he was cute, a great kisser, but slow on figuring out what I wanted. We first kissed at a back to school party my parents let me throw.Everyone was watching V for Vendetta when we sneaked off to talk. We ended up kissing and he cuddled me. I didn’t care that my friends came up and caught us together, I was happy then, but it didn’t last. I ended up leaving Sam because he was more interested in himself than anything else. I’m not going to lie, especially since the only people reading this will most like be my guildies, I practically threw myself at him every chance I had. I wanted him to do more than just kiss me, but any time we came close to doing more, he made some excuse about his dad dying and needing him home. I found out after I broke up with him a few weeks later that he wasn’t interested in guys for real, he was just going it because it made him feel special.

I think I will end this entry here. Its already longer than I thought it would be, no sense making it longer.

[mayphoenixfanfictions]

Sowlmates — Chapter IV

Universe: Haikyuu!!

Title: Sowlmates

Chapter: Chapter 4

Author: mayphenix

Characters: Bokuto Koutarou, OCs, Akaashi Keiji, Fukurodani, Kuroo Tetsurou, Nekoma

Pairing(s): Bokuto Koutarou x OC, Akaashi Keiji x OC n°2 (minor)

Genre(s): Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family

Overall Rating: T

Summary : Kanemoto Ayaka enters the Fukurodani Academy and joins the volleyball team as a manager. She never would have imagined what was waiting for her. The Prince Charming she had hoped for is replaced by Bokuto Koutarou, the loud and annoying Ace. Bokuto, on the other hand, pines after another girl who sends him letters. They don’t realize just how close their sowlmate could really be…

Chapter warnings/triggers: /

(This fanfic can also be found on fanfiction.net here ; I am the same author)

Table of Contents

Chapter I — Chapter II — Chapter III — Chapter IV

FANFICTION

HAIKYUU!! : SOWLMATES

CHAPTER IV : Cut Out for the Job

“A wise manager knows that it is sometimes more important to listen than to talk.”

― Eraldo Banovac

“I worked out what would make me happy, and I worked out what I wanted to do, and I trained myself to do the job that would make those two things happen'

'You make it sound so simple.'

'It is simple,' he said. 'The thing is, it's also a lot of hard work. And people don't want to put in a lot of work.”

― Jojo Moyes, Me Before You

Ayaka and Ami were talking, sitting next to each other, Akaashi silently eating his bento next to the girls with one of his friend, the male class representative. It was a rather peaceful day, and a peaceful lunch, until a voice all too familiar, made the two members of the volleyball team cringe despite themselves.

“Akaagshi! Kanento!!”

They sighed, slightly annoyed to be bothered on a day off. Ami chuckled in amusement upon seeing Ayaka's face. Before the group of four knew it, Bokuto was standing next to them, almost bouncing in excitement.

“Agaashi! Kaneto! Are you free after school?” He asked enthusiastically.

“Today is a day off from club, Bokuto-san,” Kanemoto answered calmly, turning around to look up at her senpai.

“I know, I know, but yesterday the straight was starting to take form – until you forced us to stop…” He added with a pout, “I want to try again today! So? So?”

“…I don't mind but… we don't have the changing-room's key, the third-year have it today.” Akaashi answered – as if such a minor detail could stop Bokuto.

“Ah AH!” Bokuto laughed, putting proud hands on his hips.

He took out a single key from his pocket, making it spine around his finger with its keychain.

“Go ahead, am I not the best senpai you've ever had?” He asked with a proud smirk.

“Woow… it's crazy, I just cannot get over how amazing you can be, Bokuto-san…” Ayaka said with a monotonous voice and deadpanned expression.

“Ahah, I know, I know!” He exclaimed, not at all perceiving the mockery in her voice.

Once again, Ami had to hold back her laugh and turned away from them, hiding her mouth behind her hand. The class representative only looked between the different people with a very confused expression.

“How did you convince Matsuoka-senpai to give you the key of the changing room? You are the last person who could possibly be responsible about this key,” Akaashi said with a little frown.

“I'll tell you when you're older, Akaashi-kun!” Bokuto said very proudly.

“It sounded so wrong coming from your mouth, Bokuto-san.”

“But! AkEEEaashi!!”

Suddenly, Bokuto winced lightly and his arm trembled. He stopped making the key spinning and he brought a hand up on his shoulder. Immediately, Kanemoto and Akaashi had very serious expressions on their faces.

“Bokuto-san, are you hurt?” Akaashi asked.

“No, not hurt, just sore from practice but–”

“Did you massage your muscles? Did you put any cream or oil yesterday?” Kanemoto asked, standing up from her desk.

“No, but–”

“No practice today,” she decided.

“BUT! Ka-ne-mo-tooo!! It's not fair!!” Bokuto exclaimed, pouting like a child.

She frowned, glaring at him and he hesitated a moment under her hard look.

“There is more chances for you to get hurt when practicing on sore and strained muscles. You're going to the infirmary right now to apply some cream.”

He lifted up his hand, pointing an accusing finger at her to start shouting but before he had time to say a word, faster than he thought Ayaka could be, she swiftly grabbed the key dangling from his finger and threw it at Akaashi who caught it without trouble.

“Bring this key back to Matsuoka-senpai and tell him not to listen to Bokuto anymore, ever again. I'm bringing this idiot to the infirmary.”

“I won't go to see the nurse…” Bokuto stubbornly said.

“Stop arguing – manager's orders!” She exclaimed, glaring at him for being so childish.

He chuckled, looking down at her petite figure trying to stand taller against him.

“As if you could possibly force me to- OW!!”

She caught his ear, forcing him to twist around to try and ease the pain. Bokuto started shouting while she dragged him out of the classroom by the ear, ignoring everyone's astonished faces upon the unusual scene.

“OW! Oooww!! All right! All ri– I'm – aie! I'm going! Kanemoto-san!!”

Akaashi, the only one not phased by the screams of the Ace, got up slowly before going to look for the third-year Vice-Captain who might be looking for a key at this very moment.

Once Ayaka was sure Bokuto would follow her to the infirmary, she let him go. He pouted and brushed his sore, red ear the rest of the way, tears in his eyes. Unfortunately, the nurse wasn't here, probably having her lunch. Kanemoto started looking for something in the different cupboards while Bokuto was starting to pull and play with the skeleton.

“Ah, I found some massage oil that will ease the soreness,” Ayaka said after finding what she was looking for.

She turned around and stared at Bokuto who was holding the skeleton's hand and pulling at the hip bone as if dancing a waltz.

“What are you doing?” She asked with an exasperated voice.

He giggled like a child and she sighed.

“You do know you're playing with a human skeleton. What if you break something when we're here?”

“It's all right! These skeletons are made of plastic anyway!”

“…Not this one. This one comes from an actual human.”

Bokuto froze then slowly let go of the bones, taking a step away from the clicking body.

“By 'actual human' you mean…?”

“A human being, like you and me, the only difference is that this one,” she continued, pointing at the skeleton, “is dead and its organs, flesh and skin are gone.”

The owl-boy swallowed loudly then walked back towards the girl, as if she would protect him from the skeleton's wrath after being played with by a high-schooler.

“How can you know that?”

“Because of the tiny foramina you can see on the bones if you look close enough.”

“The for a-what?”

“Tiny, tiny holes where the muscles and veins used to be and connect the bones with one another. You don't see it from here, but if you look closely, you'll see the tiny holes…”

Bokuto glanced back suspiciously at the skeleton, deciding not to check for these holes. The pot of massage oil was put into his hands by Kanemoto, forcing him to look back at her.

“Apply this where it hurts and by tomorrow, the soreness will be gone. Don't force on your arms today, ok?”

The boy looked slightly confused and started reading the instructions at the back of the pot. Ayaka turned around and was about to leave but Bokuto grabbed her wrist.

“Wait, my back is also sore… could you…?”

He pointed with his chin over his shoulder, indicating his back.

“I got it, you don't want to do it yourself…” She mumbled to which he gave a sheepish smile.

Without waiting any more, he quickly pulled at his tie and took off jacket and t-shirts. Ayaka carefully remained with her back turned from him. If she had no choice but to see him without his t-shirts, she definitely wouldn't watch him executing the action of taking off his clothes. Her eye still caught the reflection on the side-mirror. If she hadn't glanced, she wouldn't have seen him wince and slow down when he pulled up his t-shirt.

Bokuto was a good sportive who was practicing regularly. Having sore muscles was normal but to the point of wincing, it just showed how strained his muscles really were.

Once Ayaka heard him sit on a chair, she turned around, taking the pot of massaging oil. She took some on her hands then approached him. Before touching him, though, she froze. Bokuto was calm and turned back to her but looking at him right now, she was suddenly aware that he was a young man. His muscle and arms were more muscly than she would have expected, especially considering his constant childish behavior…

“Kanemoto?”

Ayaka startled at his voice and he looked over his shoulder. She blushed terribly then quickly smacked her hands on his back, so suddenly and quickly she heard the slapping sound of her hands against his skin and his strangled scream.

“Ouch! It hurt…!”

“S-sorry…” She apologized, biting her lower lip in embarrassment.

She ignored her flushed cheeks and focused on massaging his shoulders and back. Even under her fingertips, she could feel how hot and hard the muscles were – and it wasn't caused by his body heat or the fact that he was, well, toned. It was from constantly, everyday, overworking his muscles.

“Bokuto-san?”

“Mhm?” He asked, eyes closed and enjoying how it felt to actually being given a massage.

“Why do you push yourself so much?” She asked.

His smile disappeared and he slowly opened his eyes. Ayaka couldn't see his expression but for once, she could feel that he was serious.

“Why wouldn't I?” He asked with a deep voice.

She finished massaging him then pulled away. Koutarou could feel the warmth where her hands had been but he took his tank top and pulled it above his head, making sure he wouldn't mess up his hairstyle.

Ayaka washed her hands, a grimace on her face from the oily sensation. Bokuto stared at her for a moment over his shoulder before smiling softly upon realizing that when she was frowning, her nose wrinkled. He put on his t-shirt and jacket, moving much easier now.

“I must admit it, you surprised me today,” he said, turning around with the blue and white tie of Fukurodani in his hands to face the girl.

She looked up at him in slight confusion and he grinned:

“I would have never expected you to be so bossy with me! But it did a lot of good, I can already feel it being effective!” He added, swinging his arm around.

“Don't push it, be careful,” she said, shaking her head in desperation.

Thinking back of her previous question, a serious expression appeared on Bokuto's face, surprising Ayaka.

“Kanemoto, ahem… y'know, I know you don't like volleyball the way I do but… you being a manager… how can I say that?” He hesitated, putting a hand in the back of his neck and frowning from concentration, “It's a very good thing? I'm glad you became our manager and you're supporting me, and Akaashi as well, into practicing straights, y'know…?”

He patted her shoulder awkwardly then grinned happily.

“No matter what you think, I think you were cut out for the job! You were meant to be a manager, Kanemoto!” He said with an enthusiasm that made her chuckle despite all.

A few days later…

Ayaka watched another ball hit the net before falling at Bokuto's feet. The owl-boy was breathing so heavily that his chest was heaving up and down to the point of hurting his chest muscles – it  hurt Ayaka just to see him like that.

“Damn!!” He swore, frowning.

Akaashi took a deep breath then leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees, hardly breathing as well.

“Let's… let's stop for today, Bokuto-san…” He said between huffs of breathe, but it sounded more like a pleading.

They were exhausted. It had been a week that they were practicing, mostly straights, after the usual practice under Ayaka's vigilant gaze and with her help. Bokuto had asked Coach Yamiji to practice straights even during regular practice but after a few more failures, the coach had asked the Ace to focus on what he already knew. It had, of course, annoyed to the highest point Bokuto, which was why the little progress he had done over a week was now, gone.

“Bokuto-san, you should rest,” Ayaka said with a sigh, at a loss at what to do.

“N-no, I-I need to get the straights if I want to win…” He said, his voice hissing from the lack of air and head hanging low from leaning against his knees, “I can't be the Ace if I keep getting blocked… I have to win next time–”

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi interrupted, straightening up and frowning slightly.

His voice was hard and the unusual tone made Bokuto look up, slightly shocked by his kouhai's sudden change of behavior.

“You are not alone in volleyball,” he simply said.

Koutarou's eyes widened slightly before his lips turned into a sharp line.

“Once more…” He said through his teeth.

Akaashi sighed and glanced at Ayaka who took up a ball from the ground as Bokuto went to place himself a few meters behind.

“You shouldn't push it, Bokuto-san…” The young girl intervened.

“Once more!” Bokuto snapped, turning towards the two of them so suddenly they startled.

The girl dropped the ball and quickly leaned down to grab it. The Ace was so annoyed – angry, rather – that he didn't notice the first-years' reaction. He didn't notice how he had snapped and how stubborn and senseless he was being right now…

Ayaka glanced at Akaashi who took a deep breath before nodding, ready to receive the ball. She threw it up in the air above his head and he placed himself while Bokuto started running towards them. Akaashi tossed the ball and Bokuto jumped with a perfect form despite his exhaustion. His arm swung down but when the ball went over the net, it was a cross that ended up at the other side of the court, so out that even Ayaka could have done better.

Bokuto landed back on the floor and groaned, clenching angrily his fists. Akaashi looked back at him without a word.

“DAMN IT!!” Koutarou shouted, turning around sharply, “Why Can't I spike straights?!”

Ignoring Ayaka, he grabbed a ball from the cart and threw it up in the air before slamming it down on the ground. The angle of the ball was sharp and with his speed and strength, he leaned forward from the momentum. When the ball rebounded against the floor, it flew right up in his face and Bokuto gasped in pain, falling backwards on his behind, hands flying on his face.

“Bokuto!” Ayaka screamed, running to his side.

“I never thought I'd ever see someone getting hit by his own ball…” Akaashi commented with wide eyes, impressed by the way the ball had just flown right back to the Ace's face.

Ayaka glared at him as she put her hands on Bokuto's ones. He still kept his face hidden in his hands, his entire body shaking but she couldn't tell if it was exhaustion, pain or anger – probably all three.

“D-daaaaamn…” He mumbled against his palms.

She hadn't seen a thing: first Bokuto was shouting after landing and then, he was spiking a ball at the floor that flew right back in his face. His speed would almost be impressive, if it hadn't frightened her to the bone. The sound his head had made when it had snapped back, the violence with which he had fallen… She didn't want to be in his balls' way. Ever.

“Bokuto-san, let me see, where does it hurt?” Ayaka asked softly.

She pulled lightly at his shaking hands and her eyes widened slightly. Bokuto's face was completely red but mostly, his nose was bleeding. And his eyes were filled with tears… As soon as Ayaka saw his face, Bokuto closed tightly his eyes and let the tears roll down. Tears of anger, annoyance, desperation and pain…

“I call myself Fukurodani's Ace but… but… I suck at it…” He blubbered miserably, blood dripping over his lips and chin.

“Bokuto-san…” Akaashi murmured with widened eyes, realizing that even if Bokuto always acted overly confident and childish, he was just scared of failing.

Ayaka breathed out, relieved to know Bokuto wasn't at least badly hurt. She put her hand under his chin, forcing him to lift up his head and open his eyes to look at her. His golden eyes were shining, filled with baby tears…

“Your nose isn't broken which is a good thing. You don't seem to have a concussion either but you would have to go see a doctor to be a hundred percent sure. Does your neck hurt? It snapped backwards pretty badly.”

“I-it's fine…” He answered with a shaking voice, too astonished to do anything else.

Bokuto tried to sniff because of the snot but the blood made it impossible. He whined from the flash of pain it had triggered and covered his nose once again.

Ayaka glanced over her shoulder at Akaashi who was a little worried about the Ace's state – of mind and body both.

“I will take care of him, can you start putting everything away? I'll make sure he goes see a doctor as soon as he leaves this gymnasium.”

Akaashi nodded and started grabbing balls to throw them back into the carts.

“Can you stand up?” Ayaka asked, grabbing Bokuto's biceps to pull him up.

He managed to stand up and remain on his feet but she kept a hand on his arm; partly to make sure he wouldn't suddenly fall over, and partly for comfort.

Koutarou's tears rolled down his cheeks and he sniffed loudly all the way to the closest bench, snot and blood mixing over his mouth and chin. And his nose hurt terribly, he felt like it was on fire and the size of a watermelon, ready to explode…

Ayaka made him sit down then reached for her first-aid kit in her bag. She knelt next to him and washed off the blood and snot from all around his nose and mouth, then she forced him to put a bag of ice on his nose. He winced at the pain but didn't discuss her orders. The manager took a towel she wet with water before washing off the blood from his hands. Her eyes widened when she saw the state in which was his right hand… The palm and fingers were red from constantly hitting the ball, it was probably a little swollen considering the size of his hand (or he just had everything very big and she was even smaller than she initially thought) and it was covered in blisters. One blister looked particularly bad, bleeding.

She disinfected his hands then put on a cream for the sore and blisters. The bad blister was covered with a band-aid.

Bokuto watched her take care of him through blurry, teary eyes. He was ashamed he had started crying in front of a girl, but he was glad it was Ayaka rather than Yukie.

“I'm sorry…” He mumbled against the pack of ice.

Ayaka glanced up at him, her gray eyes hard like stone. He froze, expecting her to slap him and start shouting but she didn't.

“About what? If you apologize for over-training…”

She sighed, continuing to apply some appeasing cream on his hands.

“I understand the annoyance you feel when the one thing you're good at just doesn't go your way. When no matter how many times or how hard you try, it doesn't work out and never satisfies you.”

Bokuto felt his heart sink but she continued, looking right into his eyes with an expression firmer than he was expecting from her:

“BUT! It's not a reason to give up. It's because you don't give up than you end up doing something right, that it ends up being satisfying and good. And when it does work… god, isn't it the best feeling in the world…?” She asked with an an ecstatic expression, her face lighting up.

For a moment, Koutarou's heart fastened lightly, as if it was saying for him that he understood this feeling. But quickly, Bokuto realized that in volleyball, he had never really done good. He wasn't bad in Middle School, but he never stood out. He got infinitely better at the beginning of High-School with his growth spurt. And as soon as he had started being good, victory and satisfaction had been snatched away from him and now… now he only felt bitter.

“I think that the people who don't give up are the most impressive of people. Also, think simply: you are better today than you were a year ago, and in one year you will be better than you are today.” Ayaka concluded, looking back down at their joined hands.

She had stopped massaging with the cream for the hands. Her tiny fingers were still touching his limp, giant hand. She grasped his hand a little firmer, with both of hers, looking back up with determination into Bokuto's eyes that widened in shock.

“You told me you were glad I was the manager but the truth is that I almost quit during the first week. The reason why I didn't is your incredible determination and your will to never give up. After seeing you struggling so much, I want to see you mastering the straight-spikes like no one ever did and show to everyone what you're worth, Ace.”

Koutarou's heart quickened, filled with something he couldn't quite place: a mix of pride, sudden enthusiasm and incredible determination.

“No matter what you think, I think you were cut out for the job. You were meant to be Fukurodani's Ace, Bokuto-san!” She exclaimed with an encouraging smile, saying the same words he had given her a few days ago in the infirmary.

Koutarou's lips fell open and he let the bag of ice down to stare at the girl still kneeling in front of him. When everyone was giving up on him and his straights, Akaashi and Kanemoto had stayed by his side, putting up with his bad behavior and helping him practice, no matter how poor his results were… And now… now that he was breaking down out of anger, fear and shame, Kanemoto Ayaka was still helping him, treating him, supporting him and encouraging him… She had such confidence that he will do it, that he will become an expert in straights…

His eyes filled with tears and his lips trembled, but this time, it was out of thankfulness rather than pain.

“A-Aya-chan…” He bawled, sniffing despite the pain in his nose.

For once, she didn't correct him when he called her 'Aya-chan' and he washed away his tears with his forearm. Ayaka squeezed his hand reassuringly then stood up to finish cleaning up with Akaashi.

Bokuto's eyes lowered on the hand she had taken care of and he stared at the band-aid she had put on his blister. It was a bright blue with yellow little ducks.

“You were meant to be Fukurodani's Ace, Bokuto!”

Somehow, this colorful little band-aid made him feel even warmer than her encouragements and he smiled. It wasn't the big, bright, overwhelming smile he always gave to everyone under all circumstances. It was a soft, tiny smile that no one noticed, but it was a true and thankful one.

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