#probably the last one for a while unless inspiration strikes

[picnokinesis]

plottier / character focused thirteenth doctor fic recs

Ipseity by WalkerLister (43k, 10 chapters, gen) summary: Eight months since the Doctor sacrificed herself on Gallifrey, and Yasmin Khan is still struggling to move on. However, when she comes across a familiar face who is not acting like herself, Yaz may finally get the answers she has been looking for surrounding the Doctor. However, those answers will be revealed in a way a bit more dangerous than she had been anticipating. //Okay, so no one is surprised that I like the amnesiac!divisioned!13 fic, but in my defence, it's absolutely fabulous. This one was written waaaaay back in mid-2020, so we all knew that 13 was in prison and everyone was pretty sure that Jack was coming back due to some bts detective work, but that was about it - so, for obvious reasons, it doesn't align with ROTD, but it's such a fun one, guys, I love it a lot. Also, y'know, thirteen in a leather jacket and snarling at people? What more could you want?

don't have to make it to the moon by Ymae (28k, 7 chapters, gen/thoschei) summary: After New Year's, Ryan decides to stay traveling in the TARDIS for another little while. Only, the Doctor's rarely alright, and between experiencing the wonders of the universe, Ryan wants to figure out what's happening to his friend, too. //I love Ryan so much. He's such a wonderful character and I always love it when fics focus on him, or have him as the pov character. Unfortunately, fics like that are a bit few and far between, but this is one of them, and it's absolutely fantastic. It really delves into his character, but also his dynamic with the Doctor (especially after he talks to her in ROTD and she admits that she's scared and angry), and it's just auuuuuuugh so good!! And, it's also go some great whump and psychic content, with the Master showing up to cause trouble, alongside some gorgeous world-building, so I enjoy it very very much.

Ghost War by riptheh (25k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: All the Doctor wants to do is pass the time, and help a friendly face. So when a young man with a strange tattoo and a psychic wound shows up, she dives right into the mystery - and finds herself flung far into the future, mindwiped and alone, fighting a war that by all rights, shouldn't exist at all. A war she could help end, if only she could figure out who she is. //Oof, this one. It's absolutely stunning. This author really has a way of taking some absolutely fascinating and mind-bending concepts and just running with it, and just nails it each time. I feel like the less I say about the plot of this one, the better, because it sort of unfolds as you go, but please just trust me when I say that it's absolutely fantastic.

Lifelines by Sue_Denham (40k, 11 chapters, gen, wip) summary: Lifeline: a thing on which someone or something depends, or which provides a means of escape from a difficult situation. Set just after the events of Spyfall, the Doctor has a few things to work through. //Okay this fic is one of my favourites that's been posting over the last year or so - it's a brilliant exploration of Graham and Thirteen, and how different races deal with loss, guilt and death. I honestly think the best kind of sci fi takes concepts that we sort of take for granted, and then shows them in a completely new light. That's what this fic does. Also, Graham is just wonderful for the entire thing - though, as a note, Yaz and Ryan do end up somewhat side-lined, so bear that in mind if you're particularly looking for fics about those two, but I forgive it because it's such a great look at Graham and the Doctor. It feels like a character focused tie-in novel, y'know? Also it's pretty angsty in places, naturally, but that's what I'm here for haha.

Disordered by Echo (44k, 7 chapters, jack/13) summary: Messing with memories is always a risky business. Messing with your own memories, now that's just asking for trouble. The Doctor is very good at asking for trouble. And Jack is very good at finding it. //Ohhhhh okay so. This has been one of my absolute favourite Doctor Who fics for a long while. Definitely the shippiest of this list, but it's so lovely and such an excellent look at the Doctor facing the consequences of trying to get back her Division memories in the aftermath of s12, as well as the relationship between the Doctor and Jack across multiple regenerations. It's just so so good, flowing smoothly from very angsty to very soft, and the Doctor and Jack's voices are just spot on (especially considering that we see different versions of the Doctor, this is a particularly impressive note). Highly recommend!

The Trial of the Doctor by wreckageofstars (20k, 5 chapters, gen/thasmin, wip) summary: Haven is a planet at the edge of time, on the brink of destruction. Ravaged by the Time Lords and a war that time forgot, its people are desperate for justice before it’s too late, and the Doctor might be the only being left in the universe who can provide it — because she was the one who started it. So why can't she remember doing it? //Okay okay so, this one has only recently started posting but I've known about it since about 2020 and ohhhhhhhhhhh my goodness, GUYS. If you're not following this one, you need to be. It's a mix between Doctor Who at it's finest, Kafka at it's most unsettling, and Douglas Adams at it's most absurd, and it's delightful. There's so much in this one, and as always this author is just spot on with all the characterisation - especially Thirteen, who suddenly finds herself being prosecuted for a crime that she can't remember, and is forced into a situation where she's physically incapable of telling a lie. It. Is. Marvellous. Also there's a cockroach lawyer, whom I adore HAHA

lighthouse keeper by BlueLillyBlue (57k, 12 chapters, gen) summary: The Doctor is missing, and the fam is concerned. Featuring Yaz being a badass, Ryan being a cutie, Graham being a granddad, Jack being Jack, and the Doctor's complicated moral code. Also: space prisons, galactic war, the Doctor's time war trauma, the Doctor caring about people in her own weird and repressive way, and, most importantly, Thirteen wearing Jack's coat. //Oh, this one is such a favourite of mine. It's very angsty, so if that's not your schtick then - well, then you're kinda scuppered for all of my recs, to be honest, but this one is a bit on the dark side. Oh, but it's fantastic. Again, this one feels like a tie-in novel, and this author (as I think I've said before) is just incredible at crafting these very vivid worlds and really hard-hitting stories. The situation is pretty dire and desperate, and the Doctor is often faced with the fact that not every plan works out, and sometimes the only choices are bad ones. It's just really excellent guys (also! Thirteen in Jack's coat!!)

angel ellipsis by SleepyMaddy (36k, 8 chapters, gen/thoschei) summary: When the Doctor and Yaz find a planet in ruins, they’re only half surprised to discover the Master is responsible. But when his plan backfires, suddenly they have no choice but to work with him to stop his former allies from tearing the universe apart. It goes about as well as one might expect. //OKAY SO. This one is SO much fun and SO great - in particular, if you like the Master being a tricky bastard, but also getting screwed over by his own plans? You'll love this one. Everything about it is so vibrant and brilliant, and aaaaaahh man it all comes together in such a satisfying way. As with many of the authors on this list, this author just really gets these characters and how they tick, with some absolutely beautiful prose, and it's just such a joy to read.

nothing in the dark that isn't there in the light by river_of_words (6k, 1 chapter, thasmin) summary: Two weeks since Yaz got the most confusing rejection she ever hopes to get and the Doctor seems to have decided to blame Yaz for every single one of her furiously conflicting emotions. At this point she’s sort of asking to get hit. And at this point Yaz is sort of curious to find out what the Doctor is going to say that’s going to make her meet that request. //These next two fics are a lot shorter compared to the others, but I really wanted to include both of them because they're great and SO interesting to me. With this one, it digs into the Doctor and Yaz's relationship in the aftermath of LOTSD, and the ways that the Doctor does not actually talk about anything but does also tell Yaz more than anyone else. It's about the frustration that builds between them and the way that they're still finding more comfort in each other than anyone else. It's also a little feral, which as a thoschei shipper, definitely had a lot to do with why I liked this one haha. Anyway, it's really fantastic - really quick paced and emotional, and packing a LOT of punches with mostly dialogue in a very effective way. Go read it!

we'll do it right by daring_elm (3k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: She's never really noticed Yaz's perfume before. Shoulders relaxing, nausea subsiding, the Doctor inhales again, filling her lungs with jasmine and sandalwood, steel and glowing crystals and her box out of time. She can be back with Yaz within minutes of her leaving. She can save the child, change the foundation of Gallifrey and still return to have a picnic on Soria T4.  //Okay so I loooove love love this one because I just adore it any time someone explores the Doctor's reaction to the Timeless Child stuff after the fact, and this one is just so wonderful. The characterisation is just fantastic, and then just the progressive spiral of the plot as we follow the Doctor on a mission that is doomed to fail by the nature of her own timeline. It's about how by trying to change the past, all you do is mess up your present and your future, and I love that a lot. Augh, it's a gut punch and a half - highly recommended!

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #yasmin khan #ryan sinclair #graham o'brien #dhawan!master #thoschei #spydoc #thasmin #captain jack harkness #long post #doctor who edit #dwedit #doctor who fic #thirteen #the doctor #fic #fic rec #yessssss another one!!! #probably the last one for a while unless inspiration strikes #but ahhhhhhhhhh yes i love these fics a LOT #taka edits #the ryan picture for ymae's fic doesn't quiiiiiiite fit but it was so gorgeous i had to use it #the trial fic one though....SKSKSK i'M SO PROUD OF THAT #had to make the lighting red and it was a PAIN #anyway reblog and share the love!! #and share any other recs if you have them!

[i-am-vita]

A Diversion Dance

A Mihawk x FemReaderOc Shortfic

👉 My Masterlist

Based on my OPLA older guysxfemreader headcanons and this inspiration right here.

It just took a month and a half but it's finally done... the first part. Writing directly in a second language is not helping.

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Summary: One year ago, you came out of semi-retirement to help the Phantom Pirates infiltrate the Hacienda of a famous Wine Producer during a party to recover and destroy some information. But you had to resort to some last minute diversions to maintain certain Warlord from a business meeting at the office being robbed by your crew.

Warnings: SFW but sexy, some swearing (I managed to not used fuck that much). Use of You not y/n. Female Oc. Still probably Bad English. Consistent Time Tenses who?

Expect: White collar robbery, falling while dancing, over the top improvised dance choreography, Cinderella trope but with smooches and eventual fighting, she's falling first (and in denial) but he'll fall harder, Mask of Zorro aesthetic.

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1 year ago...

The probability of a Warlord walking to any ball, specially one in honor of the local Marine Base, was low but never zero.

Especially when you knew there was a Warlord’s meeting that day somewhere else, far away enough.

Unless of course that warlord was Dracule Mihawk whom you'd soon learn never assisted to those meetings but of fucking course would assist to a party hosted by the most famous wine producer in the Grand Line. The same wine producer who was being used by some associates as a cover for intel dealings regarding the Revolutionaries secret bases. The intel your Captain was handsomely paid to acquire and destroy. The same wine producer Mihawk was so interested to strike a deal regarding a cargo of their wines to be shipped to his residence.

You hated to do diversions but there was really no other option. Your two crewmates experts in it were already working on their own targets.

Meg having the two high officers most dangerous for the mission eating from her hand thanks to her perfumes that none of them would notice a stampede in the middle of the ballroom.

Meanwhile, Raoul had just disappeared with the party's Host to a little rendezvous in his office where he would confirm their intel of the layout of the place and hide the Den Den Mushi Transmitter which will deactivate the security on the windows so your infiltrators could get inside and steal the information from the concealed drawer in the desk and other goods.

Normally it would be you leading the infiltrating team but then Carlotta, dressed as a maid, almost shouted through her Den Den Mushi Comm of HIM having just entered the hall.

And now only one decision was there to make: the red or the black dress?

"Apologies, Warlord, my boss is currently setting up some business in his office with another... interested party." Your maid-crewmate heard the Butler explain nervously. "But of course we'll escort you to his presence as soon as he's finished. Meanwhile you're very welcome to the party. There're samples of our best harvests for you to try."

Well, fuck.

That would undo all your timing and ruin the entire operation. Who knows when you will have another opportunity to infiltrate the Hacienda this easily.

Your crew is so efficient and low profile that the Marine have connected you to just a handful of the real amount of your thieveries through the years. You were sure if the World Gobernment realize how much fuck up they really were thanks to the Phantom Pirates, your bounties'd be thripled.

And neither of you wanted that.

So the red dress it was.

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Mihawk will never admit it to you until years later, but he saw you the moment you set foot in the ballroom. The daring color of your dress a startling contrast with the white of the marine officers and the most tamed and proper colors of the other guests, like a drop of blood over fresh snow. The asymmetrical cut of the skirt allowed the view of a long shapely leg encased in black stocking but not up enough to show its laces. Your face partially obscured by a lace half mask over your eyes and cheekbones like most of the guests.

He averted his gaze before you had the opportunity to make eye contact with him. Giving back his attention to the sommelier who was currently presenting him a collection of sweet wines the Warlord didn’t ask for (and boring him to hell) but still followed your path with the corner of his eye. Several gentlemen being equally ensnared by your entrance and trying to draw your attention or get a dance.

But you were set to one objective: lure Dracule Mihawk enough time for your team to break in and out of the office as soon as Raoul gave them the signal after the Host returned to the party.

Fuck, you really hated diversions.

Mostly because it implied being VERY close to certain unsavory or immoral characters that you'd rather cut their throat than make polite conversation.

Although, if there was a time for you to finally have to divert someone, there were worse options than the infamous Dracule Mihawk.

Your crew tends to keep his distance from the Warlords as the Phantom Pirates, your captain preferring to maintain any contact with the World Government and its associates through his real identity as a noble.

But thanks to Shanks, you may know a thing or two about the World’s Best Swordsman.

He’s a somber son of a gun. Gettin’ a smile out of that guy is like pulling out teeth. It’s all that stuffy dry red wine he likes. He’d totally like you! You two would hit it off!

How would you pull that off? You have no idea but if the Redhead wasn't right about his former rival, you were going to scrag him the next time you see him.

The Warlord certainly has the look of someone who you wouldn’t mind being approached by. His old bounty posters failed to state the real air of elegance he exudes, even from afar. His clothes, while stylish, didn’t seem appropriate for an up class ball. An open white ruffle shirt that showed off his muscled chest almost as much as if he weren’t wearing it, a golden cross pendant glowing in the candle lights. Black pants tucked in pristine tall black boots. His signature hat and coat were missing but a dark long cape hung from his shoulders embracing his figure in more darkness. Not helping with his look of power and danger. Certainly the great sword at his back added to it, the most famous Yoru. Does he ever take it off?

You arrived at the bar with as much nonchalance as you were capable and was immediately invited by the sommelier to have some of their product, who seemed to be so much into his exposition of sweet reds to not notice the growing irritation of his patron.

"Madam, would you care for a taste of our Starlight Night. The passing of a comet that year gave us a unique harvest like never before." And proceed to explain to you the importance of the stars’ position while harvesting. You like wine as much as the next person but your knowledge was limited to the type you liked and disliked. The man didn’t even bother to ask your preference and all his verbiage was making you a little edgy.

You have a job to do and this newbie was getting on your nerves, not to mention Mihawk looked like walking away any second, glass of his preferred wine be damned. You smiled broadly and gave an exaggerated gesture with a shoulder that you knew enhanced the line of your neck.

"Ohh, how thoughtful, sir. We've heard wonders of this exact method." You said with fake affectation accepting the glass. "Perhaps you'll be so kind as to explain it to my colleagues." You pointed to a group of guests at the other side of the ballroom.

The employee didn't take long to follow your suggestion and left with a trail of glasses and bottle for his next marketing victim.

With the useless fool finally out of his sight (really, what was doing such an amateur attending potential customers?), he took one of the bottles whose label convinced him the most and served himself a glass to finally have a taste of dryness and spices in his tongue to try to get rid of the bitterness of having to wait in this forsaken party of social climbers.

A loud sight from you got him out of his musings.

"I hate nothing more than an overseller.” You tested giving a side glance to the Warlord. “If their product is that good they wouldn't need such storytelling, would they?"

That got you Dracule's attention who turned his golden gaze towards you and raised an eyebrow. You could feel a not so unpleasant chill down your back at his intensity.

"Clever technique. I was considering just cutting the fool in half to shut him up." You couldn't hide a smirk at his dry humor, although unclear if it was a joke at all.

You took a sip of the dark liquid in your glass, getting a taste of unexpected sweetness, fruity and floral flavors.

"Well, our mutual wasn't as full of shit as I thought." You mentioned giving another sip to the sweet wine. By the Warlord's expression, you knew he totally differed. "Not keen on sweet wine, are you, my Lord?"

He gave you a little smirk and a side glance. You took another sip in defiance.

"I'm keen on red wine not berries juice."

This time you did have to control yourself to not let out a laugh and spit the wine still in your mouth, it coming out as a very undignified snort. You gave the man a playful killing glare over your glass that had the effect of widen his smirk.

Ha! Take that, Redhead!

Mihawk was feeling... surprisingly amused by this little interaction.

The amount of people capable of holding his gaze, let alone daring to joke with him was less than the fingers of one hand. Still, he could recognize an attempt at seduction no matter how subtle but the even fewer women who dared to approach him usually played a more submissive role.

He liked your boldness.

And the fact you look exactly like his type of woman with perfect golden tan skin, long legs and curvaceous figure… A shame he has no time for a rendezvous tonight, eager to get his business done and go on his merry way away from this Marine reeking party.

"So... What brings a man of your notoriety to this gathering, my Lord. Certainly not the honorable guests or the sparkling conversations." You said pointing with your head to the surrounding Marines who gave distasteful looks at his direction between murmurs and sips of wine.

Another raised eyebrow and what you hoped was an interested stare. So you did know about his status and reputation and yet were completely unafraid of approaching him.

"Only business. I wasn't aware of this little gathering." He said pointing at the ballroom with distaste in his voice. "Not my favorite type of... companionship. Although, the conversation may be... improving. Even if you have an abysmal taste in wine, my Lady."

Well, you didn't completely suck at this, you thought while still siping the sweet red with a challenging smirk of your own.

With the corner of your eye, you managed to catch a glimpse of Raoul coming inside the room, the Host mere steps behind with his Butler whispering in his ear. Your eyes found those of your maid-disguised crewmate, Carlotta, who gave you a small nod.

The clock was running from now on.

Several couples had just started to dance to the new song of the orchestra when you were hit by a burst of inspiration.

"May I have this dance, my Lord. Kill some time before your business meeting?"

You know you’re not the best at small talk and pretending attraction for someone but you love to dance… and you’d rather not think of the small pull you felt towards the Warlord as attraction at all.

"... Why not?" He answered by raising his hand in an inviting gesture. You couldn’t hide a small smile of relief and parted with your glass of wine to reciprocate his gesture.

Mihawk seized the moment to take your hand towards his mouth to place a light kiss. His yellow irises catched a small flush on your cheeks and an intake of air through your half parted lips.

He guided you to the dancefloor into a perfect waltz stance before leading you through it with long strides and wide swirls following the lively tempo created by the strings of guitars and mandolins.

The familiar dance steps lured you into a comfort state. It took you a few seconds to realize how was it possible, being in the arms of one of the most dangerous men in the world and any misstep in this heist potentially leading to a catastrophe to your crew, until it dawned on you.

Dracule Mihawk was an excellent dancer.

It wasn’t just the proper following of the steps but his gracefulness and fluidity and how he guided your body through it like an extension of his own.

What kind of swordsman would I be if I didn’t have perfect stance and footing? A memory came from so far away. Of the intense dark eyes of another man deep in your past, of that first time you set foot in a ballroom. How much you despised the process of it all until that young gentleman asked for your first dance…

"Something on your mind, my Lady?" Mihawk’s voice brought you back to the present and to the intensity of his own golden eyes.

"Apologies, my Lord, my mind wandered for a second."

"Oh? To whom may I ask?"

"Jealous, Lord Dracule?" You teased smirking playfully. You were aware you couldn't just lie to his face. One didn't come as high as him by taking any bullshit. So half truths it was. "Just... I was thinking how much I missed certain things in this life. I can go without all the pomp and small talk of these gatherings but I did miss... this."

Mihawk didn't expect such a candid answer. He could tell by the subtle change in your voice that your yearning was sincere.

"This...?"

"A good dance partner..." The thrill of the chase, the adrenaline of the lurking danger, your traitorous mind offered while starting to get lost in the eyes of one of the most powerful men in all the Blues.

"Have you been apart from this life for a while?"

"Certain responsibilities have kept me away from... indulging these past years. This is an extraordinary occasion."

"Extraordinary indeed..."

Who were you? He wondered while resisting the desire to bring you nearer to him and inhale that subtle fruity and flowery scent from your hair, much like that awful sweet wine you seemed so fond of. Certainly not a debutante seeking a match. Your beauty more akin to full maturity, probably closer to his own age.

Nor a widow, especially those of the upper class who tended to show off more of their riches on their bodies yet you were mostly unadorned save for a modest dark lace with a rose pendant on your neck. The same dark lace that adorned more than hid the upper half of your face. No earrings or bracelets. Although, were those steel rings on each of your middle fingers? Not gold or silver.

Or were you one of those unattached women who seek the protection of powerful men? No, you had mentioned certain responsibilities keeping you from indulging. The fact you have forgone gloves was telling. Your hands, while elegant, weren’t those of an upper class lady, with short and practical manicured nails, skin lightly calloused in certain places more akin to someone who worked with certain instruments. A business woman looking for some distraction?

Whatever of the above, at this stage most women were already trying their best tricks to lure him. Eyelash shakes, sultry smiles, casual intimate touches. Mostly pathetic and boring. Or were you so sure of your beauty to take this more neutral stance and wait until your natural allure and witt worked on him?

And then getting lost in your thoughts in the middle of dancing after being the one to ask him. Was what you said all you were looking for? A good dance partner or a dance partner?

Certainly he was so full of himself as to feel a little insulted that the first woman who caught his eye in years wasn’t actively seducing him by now even if he had no intention of letting himself be seduced that night and would walk away after this little distraction.

The waltz came to its end with both of you maintaining a proper pose and distance despite the intensity of his stare awakening a desire for nearness. The couples undid their poses to applaud the orchestra, giving you a moment to break contact with the deep golden gaze of the Warlord to collect yourself.

Over the shoulder of your dance partner, you saw Raoul making a circular move with his hand, signing you to keep going.

You noticed the Warlord's eyes scanning the crowd, no doubt looking for the Butler who would take him to his meeting at the office currently being robbed by your crewmates.

Time for the big guns.

"Would you care to try something more... robust, my Lord?"

That had the power to hold Mihawk's attention back to you. That spark of challenge in your eyes again. He had seen that same spark in many others who sought to duel with him.

So intriguing.

"Do you feel an equal to the task, my Lady?"

You gave him a wink and signal for a maid who approached you, whispered something to her and sent her to the small orchestra near the corner.

You guided Dracule to the center of the emptying dance floor, your arm extended to his with only your hands touching... until the first strings of guitar and brass wind instruments started.

Mihawk took your hand with firmness and drew you to his body. You let him guide you into a dip over his arm and then the other but then raised yourself meeting him face to face in defiance. Both started to dance around without looking away from each other's eyes, arms intertwining and departing, following the lively rhythm of the strings like swords in a battle.

His right hand finally caught yours and led you gracefully in a series of spins, making your dress flutter around your legs, before pulling you towards him until being face to face again. Your lips almost gracing. You tilt your head backward feeling Mihawk’s breath making a path to your neck and dangerously close to your cleavage.

That single motion had the power to leave you more breathless than the intense performance.

You back away playfully, arms raised as if in denial of his advance. Mihawk smiled despite himself, eager to bring you back to himself by trying some footing to approach you and catch your waist but you avoided him with a poise and grace he had yet to see in most swordsmen that had dared to duel him.

The dramatic twirl half undid your updo and left your back to him. You gave him a daring look over your shoulder between locks of dark wavy hair, arms extended as in invitation that he took by taking you again in his arms, your back to his chest, and sweeping with you across the dance floor. You could feel the warmth of his skin against yours through the back opening of your dress along with the cold of the golden pendant.

He stopped a moment to guide your hand to his neck, your fingers tangling in his dark curls, while his other hand wandered to your abdomen and just below your breasts, tightening his embrace and grazing his lips on your neck for a small second before a last crescendo of the music made you twirl away from him, like running from his attention towards you. But the Warlord was relentless in his pursuit, catching your hand and pulling you fiercely back to him, the momentum making you lift your leg around his waist where he took it to bring you even closer to him. The asymmetrical cut of your skirt allowed him to feel the texture of your stocking. His wide palm traced a path from your knee up to your tight. Almost grazing the satchel hiding your short dagger and small assortment of knives still hide under the fabric.

His free hand traveled to your waist leading your body in a low dip with the last strings of the song. You hold to his broad shoulders, one of your hands tangled in his dark curls guiding his bowed head up your abdomen, over your breasts and neck, lips mouthing the rose pendant in his wander, to almost touch his lips with yours as he lifted you back.

For a wild second, Mihawk considered taking your lips with his own, eager to know if they taste as sweet as the red you sampled. The sound of applause brought him out of his reverie, reminding him of his stubbornness of not letting himself be seduced that night, not matter his own pursuit of you during your enthralling dance. His sharp eyes focused on your glazed gaze, like you were waking up from a dream. He wondered if that would be your sight after rapture. Your eyes cleared after a second, opening in surprise as you were just aware of the position you had ended.

The sound of a clearing throat broke the moment.

"Ejem... Warlord, we've been looking for you. I was told you were interested in a purchase. Should we discuss it at my office?" Spoke a gentleman whom you recognized as the Host of the ball.

No fucking way!

"Of course." Mihawk answered, letting you go gently until you recovered your footing and finally breaking your eye contact to turn around to the newcomer. "In a moment."

Your eyes found the panicked sight of Carlotta shaking her head.

You still needed more time!

"Can't I convince you to extend your stay, my lord?” You asked, hoping not to sound as out of breath as you felt for what you were suggesting. “Surely, any other affair can wait until the morning..."

The hawk-like golden eyes of the swordsman wandered back to you and over your form, from the half undone updo, the free locks of hair falling in waves framing your slightly flushed face, to your red lips parted like begging to be kissed. Have you finally decided you want a partner for another kind of dance? You looked like temptation incarnated for him but it had been a time since he had let himself be distracted by temptations, no matter how captivating.

"Not today, my lady." He took your hand to his lips in a goodbye kiss that had no business being so sensual.

You'll lie to yourself all you wanted for the next year, but the idea of bringing that same hand to his cheek to draw his face to an actual kiss so you could steal his gold cross came after. In that moment you were desperate to scratch just one more second with him and taking a taste of his lips didn’t sound as bad as ten minutes ago.

You immediately felt his lips moving against yours and his hands at your hips drawing you to him. Your breasts pressed against his strong torso when you felt the cross and the idea hit your mind. You sneak your hand behind his neck to undo the clasp of the necklace in a swift movement, disguising it as a caress to his hairline and playing with the short curls there. Your other hand roamed his chest to collect the valuable item, being able to feel his warm skin and the defined muscles twitching under your fingers.

You were barely pulling apart when his lips started leaving a trail of kisses to your cheek and your neck. One of his hands moving up your back to the cutout of your dress to caress the skin there, the other getting tangled in your hair. You were unable to hold a small moan that had you almost dropping the gold cross but managed to hold onto it and hide it between the folds of your dress.

Mihawk had thought you bold before but daring to steal a kiss from him was a level not an individual had ever ventured. Your lips did taste of the sweet red wine from before, but infinitely better. And why on all the Blues was he resisting you? He wondered while inhaling the sweet scent of flowers and fruits in your hair. Whatever foul mood that plagued him upon entering this residence had melted away upon your first approach to him.

He was about to just whisper in your ear to fuck with his business and take you to his ship when another throat clearing was heard. With a hand still caressing your back, Mihawk turned to the Host, ready to dismiss the man until the next morning.

Before being able to express his change of plans, the Warlord felt two things at the same time. Or more like the absence of them. Your skin under his hand and the familiar weight of his heavy pendant hanging from his neck.

Dracule Mihawk turned around just to see you disappear through the doors leading outside… in such a swift movement almost invisible to the naked eye and just possible by an expert haki user.

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You moved as fast as you could to the wide opening that led to the vineyards without drawing as much attention as you already had. You passed near a stunned Carlotta and murmured your only-emergency word.

“Cauliflower.”

Which was code for “don’t wait for me and get the hell out”. Last time you had to resort to it was 10 years ago and ended with a bounty poster with the byname “The Ghost Rose”. No image but the drawing of the rose carved knife you left behind.

This time, with a Warlord of the Seas after your trail you may have no such luck. Your only hope was being as fast as your abilities allow you.

.

.

.

Part 2 soon.

Kudos to those who get the cauliflower reference.

#mihawk dances flamenco #but also other things #one piece #one piece live action #opla #opla x reader #opla mihawk #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #x reader #mihawk x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #fem reader

[swanimagines]

Hey could you do some head canons of how Kaz would react to the reader getting hurt?

Warnings: blood, injuries

(I noticed while I was doing the finishing touches into this that one headcanon sounds very familiar and realised I was probably subconsciously inspired with the oneshot "Inflicted Desire" by my dear friend @/jexnrey, who deactivated a while ago and said she's never going to come back as Tumblr stressed her too much, so let this be a kind of tribute for her, she constantly told me she especially loves my Kaz stuff so if you ever see this Ani, I miss you but I wish nothing but good for you ❤️)

KAZ REACTING TO YOU GETTING HURT:

– If it's just a scratch or even a small wound and it isn't caused by anyone else, he isn't too bothered. He might look at it for a moment and then decide it's not anything too bad, minor injuries are an (almost) every day happening when you're a Dreg.

– Of course, if someone did it to you, he's pissed about it and sternly tells you to be more careful because he can't lose you.

– Or he doesn't say the last bit, but you can see it in his eyes as you're already in a relationship at that point.

– But if you're brought back to the Slat with a large wound, sputtering out blood or/and looking like you're about to pass out from pain, he doesn't take it as calmly, obviously.

– It's more like he freaks out and it shows in with how much he stresses for you.

– And if Kaz Brekker if overly stressed, you won't strike a friendly chat with him unless you want to risk receiving a broken hand.

– He's a walking thunderstorm and spares nobody from it.

– If you were any other Dreg, he would just ignore you and let you be tended by whoever takes up the task (as he knows his gang knows what to do in such situations), but with you, he's distracting Nina all the time by pacing back and forth, demanding her to heal you faster.

"Just do your job like you're supposed to, Zenik." -Kaz

"I'm trying, but you aren't making it easy, your heartbeat is too loud, I can barely hear Y/N's heart over it." -Nina

– He huffs at that, sitting on an armchair in the corner of the room and staring at your face. If he wouldn't see the blood, he'd think you're just sleeping.

– He tried to concentrate on your peaceful face to get his heartbeat down, knowing he can't appear weak in front of anyone.

– As soon as Nina manages to stabilize you, he goes to the office and starts the work to find out who did it.

– Inej heard a Black Tips member bragging about killing off one of the most skilled Dregs, saying you were incredibly stupid when you didn't hear him.

– Immediately when she turns his identity to Kaz, he orders that guy to be brought to him.

– Kaz makes sure all of Ketterdam hears his cries of mercy and, towards the end, pleads to kill him already.

– Kaz doesn't, of course - everyone has to know that nobody can touch what's his.

---

Tags: @musicallisto @take-me-to-ny @retvenkos @number-0-iz @kaqua @readingslumpfanfic @dancingwith-sunflowers @shadowhuntyi @rika90 @imma-too-many-fandoms @the-abyss-gazed-back @thereagles @louweasleymalfoy @malfoys-demigod @mxltifxnd0m @dustyjjumpwings @whatiswrongwithpeople @ellora-brekker @brekkers-desigirl @heyitsaloy @mentallynotstableghost @scandalous-chaos @nyx2021 @peter-parkers-cullen-nerd @supervalcsi @doutorbaizhu @bb-skyrunner @lightprincess-world @animalistic0 @story-scribbler @writingmysanity @lovemenotplz @directioner5life @imaginesfire @thevipers-world // send in an ask to be added, and specify which of my fandoms you want to be tagged on! Don’t just say “can you add me to your taglist” as I can’t know what taglists do you mean by that!! ALSO IF YOU WON’T INTERACT BEYOND LIKING, I’LL EVENTUALLY TAKE YOU OFF THE LIST!!

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #sab #sab x reader #sab imagine #headcanons #my works #gn reader

[bardcore-jaskier]

♡ Elder blood Jaskier headcanon ♡

(Edited post)

I actually had this headcanon for a while now, probably started tossing ideas around in my head a few days after I watched Blood Origin. Here is a special thank you to @melinoiaagesander for reminding me about it and inspiring me to do something about it as well. Seeing as I tend to be a very lazy person (executive dysfunction go brrr), I will not be writing a fanfiction unless the mood strikes and if that happens, I shall gladly fall victim to hyperfixation and shit out a 50 000 word masterpiece with very bad grammar. And no, if I do write it, I will not fix the grammar mistakes unless rereading it brings forth the fattest, most scrumptiously painful dose of cringe in my life.

So OK, here we go....

I think it is common knowledge (despite the few times I've seen posts from confused Witcher fans right after the mini series aired), that Ithlinne's prophecy was about Ciri, the Lion Cub of Cintra and the descendent of Elie & Fjall. However, thanks to a brief lapse in judgement on the production team's part, either because of the way it was shot and edited or the because of the way it was written, when Seanchaí recited the prophecy:

"The Lark's seed shall carry forth the first note of a song that ends all time, and one of her blood shall sing the last"

It came across as delightfully misleading to many of us, even if most of us quickly understood to whom Seanchaí was actually referring to. Still, my bleeding Jaskier stan heart has never felt more glee at the prospect of getting another little Netflix "oopsie" to play with! (The other one being that they forgot to age Jaskier in season 1 and then decided to not even bother for season 2)

Which is why I took my ritalin, rubbed my clammy, cold little fingers together like a cartoon villain and dug deep into the lore, to find a way to spin an intricate web of realistic and clever facts that would serve as my personal foundation for this exciting headcanon! Jaskier is another descendent of the Lark and her Witcher, he has elder blood coursing through his veins and is distantly related to Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon!

(If Netflix weren't a bunch of pussies and if a disgusting majority of the Witcher fandom weren't a bunch of gatekeeping, racist and homophobic Plot-Guardians, this could have been the coolest curveball ever! The adorable, frilly and fragile bumbling human of a bard, going from side-character to focal point.)

Let's lay down the groundwork:

(I AM SO GIDDY AAAAAHHH, somebody catch me, I think I'm gonna faint!!)

- While Witchers as we know them are sterile, Fjall is clearly not. Because his mutation process wasn't designed by a group of mages who spent a long time on optimizing the serum to better serve it's purpose. Fjall was an experimental prototype, created from desperation and a few rush-job elixirs, so his precious elf balls weren't tampered with.

- Elie and Fjall made love after Fjall's transformation, bringing the first child of elder blood into existence. Which happened ca 1200 years before the canon era that the main Witcher series is set in, meaning that Ciri has a shit ton of ancestors that predate her entire canonical family tree, all going unaccounted for.

- Jaskier, as we can obviously see, has visually not aged a single day since meeting Geralt in Posada at age 18-19 (don't quote me on this, finding a reliable info source is a nightmare). He traveled with Geralt on and off for approximately 20ish years, making him at least 40 in the Rare Species episode and at least a little bit over 40 in the Family episode of season 2. That alone has inspired hundreds if not thousands of headcanons about Jaskier not being entirely human, one of which is: Jaskier is part elf.

- And OH BOY, isn't that neat?!?!?! I mean, we see a talented young bard, whom everyone assumes to be human, whom Blood Origin's ending accidentally implied to be a descendent of another bard, an elven bard who lived 1200 years ago and had a child with an elven Witcher. That should be enough metaphorical fapping material for my brain, shouldn't it?

Not so fast....

What if instead of imagining that some long fossil type beat long dead ancestor, lost to history, somehow ended up siring a child into a family of Keracki Nobles (Lettenhove doesn't seem to appear on any map of the continent I could find, but several sources claim that it is a small Viscouncy located in Kerack).....I could instead put in some effort and figure out how to make things more interesting, how to make Jaskier's elder blood ancestor actually traceable and as an awesome bonus, make Jaskier's and Ciri's relation a little closer. Not by a lot, obviously, it wouldn't make sense, but just enough for a new dynamic for fanfiction writers to explore. Personally, the idea of it has the potential to heal my poor broken heart, I adore Jaskier so much, but the way the main 3 characters of the series have treated him until Yennefer finally grew a braincell makes me sad.

Geralt's shitty apology aside, Lambert's cranky "No" aside (yk what I'm talking about), Yarpen Zigrin's unfriendliness aside, I DID NOT enjoy the scenes in which Ciri interacted with Jaskier. This headcanon though? Oh man, if I only had enough juice in me to write something for AO3, spin some epic ass Jaskier-centric tale, sprinkle in some geraskier/yennskier/lambskier and tag it with fix-it? I would!

Back to business, this is Ciri's family tree, it has the royal family of Cintra, girlboss Calanthe is there, Ciri's mom Pavetta is there, her sick son of a bitch father too. As you can see, besides the unknown descendents of Elie and Fjall, elder blood has deep roots and it can all be traced back to these folks: Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal & Cregennan of Lod, as well as Cerro of Redania & King Vridank of Redania....however those two are of no importance to this post.

Instead of trying to squeeze Jaskier into the equation by picking some rando as far back in time as possible, I stumbled across a treasure when trying to go from the bottom up. That treasure being another direct descendent of Lara Dorren as well as Elie and Fjall, his name was Crispin!

See him there? He happens to be Queen Calanthe's grandmother's twin brother! Although his name box is blue and not red, unlike King Goidemar of Temeria, the line that leads us to him is dark red, which means he is of elder blood and bears the activator gene as well, just like his sister. Now, if one needs a sex partner with the green latent gene in order to awaken the dormant powers in this blood line (which although watered down, still is incestuous), then I am not sure how Jaskier could inherit the same powers as Ciri. I myself prefer to headcanon that since Lettenhove is in Kerack, the small Viscouncy is located near the borders of Brokilon and therefore the Pankratz family could easily have a few drops of mixed blood with one of the Brokilon nymphs.

I am not much of a biologist (despite getting good grades in it back in high school), but it does make sense to me that being at least a little bit mixed with nymph DNA could theoretically aid in strengthening Jaskier's elder blood & activator genes. Sort of like how dog breeders play God to make a better specimen for many different purposes. In Jaskier's ancestry case, I like to think that one of his forefathers got seduced by a Rusalka, found out that she used him to get pregnant and then stole the child from her and raised the kid alone, in doing so, introducing nymph DNA into the Pankratz lineage.

Back to Crispin

Crispin aep Amavet, turned out to have a rather convenient backstory!

Apparently, his mother, Anna Kameny, was married to Count Roger Kameny and less than a year before her twins were born, she had an affair with Prince Amavet of Temeria (Queen Calanthe's great grandfather and Ciri's 4x great grandfather).

So with Crispin and his twin sister Muriel the Delightful, both being children of Prince Amavet, making them illegitimate to Count Roger Kameny, their mother Anna had to fight in court three times so that her kids could inherit Roger's estate. Muriel was content with that, she didn't care that her real father was a Prince and didn't push to be recognized as Amavet's daughter. Kameny wealth and her beauty combined, she didn't have trouble finding a husband and leading a happy life.

Crispin on the other hand, knowing that he is of royal blood, proud of his elven heritage, wanted that relation validated. So he started wearing the Kameny coat of arms, which he had custom made to hint at who his real father is by adding burgundy to the Temerian lilies. This caused a MAJOR scandal, turns out his little stunt was illegal and he got his ass arrested. He payed a fine and swore to never repeat that mistake, but what did he do instead????

Yeah, he fucking did it again, enraging enemies and his own mother as well, who fought so hard for his "legality" for the Count title. After that, Crispin, as a massive "Fuck you" to everyone, joined a gang of mercenaries and referred to himself as Crispin aep Amavet. Time went by, battles were fought and eventually he just disappeared off of the face of the earth. People assumed that he died and they were glad about it...ain't that convenient?

For the sake of this headcanon, I think Crispin could have easily just gone into hiding, wandering the continent under a fake name and impregnating some Pankratz de Lettenhove lady in the process. Could have just been a one night stand and nobody would know, nobody would know that Jaskier is related to the Cintran crown, to Ciri herself, to Lara Dorren and finally to another bard, so much like himself, Ellie the Lark.

I fucking LOVE this headcanon to bits and pieces! There is so much here that one can play with! Like Jaskier's meeting with Seanchaí somehow triggering the dormant powers within him and what those powers would look like, I don't think the first sign of it would be a deadly scream. I like to think that his newly awakened chaos would somehow tie into his singing, there is so much potential here, so many ideas to explore!

In canon, Ciri is destined to destroy humanity and return the elves back to power, but Jaskier has already beat her to it a little, kick-starting the process by smuggling elves to Xin'trea.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Sorry for editing this post 5 times, I was still working on it while waiting for AVATAR to start at the Cinema and accidentally published it in panic when the lights went out. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed it and I hope that this post can be of use to you if you decide to write a fanfic about/inspired by it! :3

(Please tag me if you do, I would love to read it! May your writing process be smooth, may your updates be frequent and may AO3 maintenance not impact your creativity!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#witcher headcanon #netflix witcher #witcher netflix #the witcher #jaskier #jaskier dandelion #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #part elf jaskier #elder blood jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #witcher ciri #cirilla of cintra #witcher blood origin #blood origin #the lark #elie blood origin #elie #fjall blood origin #fjall #headcanon #fanfiction #geraskier #yennskier #lambskier #witcher fic #witcher fandom #witcher fanfiction #witcher elves #my shit

[shadowofroses]

Opening Up

Demon Slayer

Might be a part of the Teaching Abroad idea I pitched a while back also will be evolving into a smut, but this here isn't smut. Pairing: Reader x Rengoku Kyojuro Warnings: Insecurities, mentions of stupid pranks, American Education, ex narcissistic lover, angst, Fluff, dark humor towards self.(if I forget anything please let me know if I need to tag it)

Part 2

Summery: As the English Teacher at Kimetsu Academy, you learn to open up more towards your colleagues regardless of what was pounded into your head from the past.

Story:

In the beginning, you were a mousy thing, unless of course you were teaching English that was. You were very inspired by the History teacher’s attitude, speaking loudly, with passion. Infact within the first few months of starting at Kimetsu Academy you saw an increase of grades, None of your students got below a B, and this you celebrated, and at the same time, reminded them, that their mental health is more important than their grades. 

One thing you always vowed to yourself, was to be a better teacher than the ones that educated you. And it certainly helped being around positive charged attitudes of your peers. 

However whenever a fellow teacher tried to strike up conversation you would freeze, unless the subject of discussion was something you were passionate about you were rather bashful of not wanting to interrupt conversations. 

Turns out having a previous lover who was a Narcissist, and the American Educational system can really do a number on one's self consciousness. 

Was probably even better that you were Teaching in Japan currently. 

The two people you opened up to the most was Kyojuro and Kanae. You conversed with the other teachers when spoken to. Which led to one conversation. 

Tengen popped a bubble of gum he was chewing. “So, (Last Name), Been enjoying teaching here in Japan?” 

You nodded with a shy smile. “I’m still in the honeymoon phase, I don’t think I want to go back to America.” 

Something sparked in Tengen’s eyes, and he doggedly gave his friend Kyojuro a look. “Honeymoon phase? Speaking of such, are you interested in anyone?” 

While you blushed slightly, your heart screamed yes as your mind went to the flame haired man in the room. “Even if I was, I doubt anyone would be interested in me anyway.” another bubble gum pop.

Suddenly you were very conscious of every eye on you. “Not very Flamboyant of you! You’re a flashy woman, I don’t see how you don’t have a line of men…or women behind you.” 

You felt insecurity step in, and you snorted out a laugh. Tengen frowned not understanding what was funny. You coughed realizing you made an awkward atmosphere. “Sorry…um, self conscious reflecting, first person that asked me on a date was an April Fools Prank, and the one person that claimed they loved me was married and was using me, so…Easier for me to deal with things with dark humor. Forgive me.” 

You went to stand up to leave but Kanae jumped up. Grabbing your wrist. “Forgive Tengen he is rather a forthright person. He just assumes everyone is a hopeless romantic like him.”

Tengen raised an eyebrow, at that but shrugged “Right, So have you gotten any while over here?” 

Your eyes raised sharply, “what makes you think I…”

Kyojuro’s hand met your shoulder, and he gave a sharp look at Tengen, “Out of Line my friend! This is a School, where we work, not ask about personal lives!”

After that, Tengen apologized and chilled out, he asked you to join the other teachers in their outings outside of school so that everyone could get to know you. Even offering to pay for drinks or volunteering Kyojuro to buy everyone’s drinks. 

But there is no reason for anyone to waste money on me. 

Every time Kyojuro heard something like this come from you his chest twisted. He wanted to embrace you in a strong, warm hug. Take away all of the self doubts, that was projected onto you. He wanted to kick your ex lovers ass. Wanting nothing more than to kiss you, making you feel so loved that you completely forgot everything negative projected onto you. 

It filled Kyojuro’s heart to recognize that he was falling hard for you. What was difficult was asking you out. 

You could do better than me!

Eventually he settled for asking you to a coffee shop to help him grade essays. Not being Stalkerish, but he knew your coffee order already, and would already buy it for you before you showed up. Maybe you just had to feel more comfortable around him one on one. 

You would question, offer to pay, only to resign and accept your free coffee fate. 

Midway through one essay, which was on Medieval Armor, and half way through a muffin, you choked, Causing Kyojuro to go wide eyed, “Are you okay?!” 

You swallowed, feeling your face flush from the attention, and gave him a closed eyed smile, “yeah! I almost forgot something.” You rubbed your neck laughing, “While we were on our way to Japan, you technically placed a couple of orders of chainmaille, which you also bought the Materials, I actually got the four in one shirt done. If you could come to my place to pick it up it would be great cause it’s at least a hundred pounds. Sixty pounds…I mean twenty seven Kilograms….”

Kyojuro’s eyes widened at that, “Wow! So heavy?!”

You nodded, “Mhm, I could have done it in Aluminum but It most likely wouldn’t hold up for a while.”

Kyojuro shook his head as he stood up and gave you a hug, “No, Steel is Perfect! Thank you so much and yes! I’ll stop by your place!” He beamed down at you as you gulped at the closeness of his face to yours. He tilted his head seeing a familiar look in your eyes. 

Longing.

Your heart pounded as his hand lifted to your chin, and raised your face, and he lowered his till his forehead touched yours. “May I kiss you?”  Your heart skipped a beat, You don’t know what sounds came out of your mouth but he only smiled, “If you don’t want me to, I understand…” Kyojuro reluctantly moved gently away hoping you would say yes. 

Respectful, always respectful. 

“Ye..yes…” you whispered, he didn’t hear it, but read your lips, he softly descended onto your lips. Tasting the honeyed chapstick you usually applied to them. 

The two of you forgot where you were, and heard an applause, and a couple of whistles. You broke away and buried your face into Kyojuro’s chest while his face and ears turned red, but the grin on his face never went away.  He brushed his thumb against your cheek, and gave a gentle smile, “Hey, let me finish up these essays, and we’ll head out.”

Kyojuro moved to sit next to you as opposed to across from you this time. His arm brushing yours wanting contact with you. Your heart is still pounding. You shook your head of the sudden giddiness that filled your chest. “Um…I thought you wanted my help with those?” 

Kyojuro gave a mischievous grin, “I…may have asked you to help to hang out with you.” 

“Oh…” Sudden bout of insecurity sinks in. “Are you sure…you…want to…”

Kyojuro frowned, throwing an arm around your shoulders pulling you in closer, and kissing you on the head. “I’m positive.” he continued to work on the last couple of essays. And he paused in thought, “Are you still going to decline dates?” 

You blushed, “I’ve never been on a date, so…It’s not necessary…”

Kyojuro sat straight up in shock. “NONSENSE! I want to spend time with you (Name)!” 

You gave a soft smile, and punched back the negative thoughts. “Alright, if you insist, don’t tell me so I can’t decline.”

Kyojuro’s hair fluffed at that, “Surprise dates?! I like it!” you couldn’t help but to giggle at that. 

Maybe it was time to try to open back up.  

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kyoujurou x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #I projected so hard into this

[no-psi-nan]

Nopsi Fic Masterpost (Saiki K Fics)

Color code: (Gen/Platonic Fics) (Romantic Fics) (Series)

Main post-canon series:

On the fliⓟⓢⓘde of a meteor

Post-meteor post-canon slices of life for Saiki and all of his friends, divvied up by genre and time period!

"Moving Forward" is the main gen story, while "Extra Love Stories" is optional romance DLC!

> Moving Forward: Snapshots of Saiki's Ψenior Year

Rated T, 17k, Complete

After dispatching the meteor with his reawakened powers and explaining everything to his friends, life continues on at P.K. Academy.

The last year of high school is always the most hectic, but with Saiki and his friends around, it'll definitely be extra disastrous!

> Moving Forward: Off to their rⓔⓢⓟective univerΨities!

Rated T, 27k, Ongoing

After graduating from P.K. Academy, Saiki and his friends all head off to different universities to start their new careers and their new lives.

It's such a shame that Saiki will have to part ways with all of his friends so soon after he was finally able to reveal his true self to them.

Unless...? 😏

> Extra Love Stories of Psychics, Volume 1

Rated T, 22k, Complete

After Saiki's brief stint as a normal person and the subsequent reawakening of his powers, dealing with his final year of high school should be a piece of cake.

The real challenges are his evolving relationships with Aiura and Akechi. Luckily(?) for him, they both know he's allergic to feelings, and they're more than happy to help him figure things out!

> Saiki x Akechi + Saiki x Aiura get-together

> Extra Love Stories of Psychics, Volume 2

Rated E, 50k, Ongoing

Sharing an apartment suite with both your girlfriend and boyfriend can certainly be exciting, but intimacy isn't so easy when psychometry prevents you from holding hands without gloves, your medusa-gaze has to be hidden behind glasses, your x-ray vision is guaranteed to give the most unflattering views, and you've got super strength to boot.

Luckily for Saiki, Aiura and Akechi have his back!

> Akechi x Saiki x Aiura developing romance

> Rated T versions of some chapters are available.

Other Stories:

> 'Movie night', they call it

Rated G, 1k, Complete

[ Seems more like an elaborate excuse to cuddle, good grief... ]

A bit of snuggle ambiance / cozycore with the queerplatonic Psychickers crew!

> Time Leap 2: Electric Boogaloo

Rated T, 6k, Complete

At some point before the big volcanic hullabaloo, Saiki and Akechi are hanging out and gambling for dessert, as they like to do on Saturday nights. But this particular night is dark and stormy, and lightning strikes Saiki's limiter, yeeting Akechi into the past and bringing the younger Asumi into the future.

Uh. That's probably not good for the timeline.

> Platonic Akechi & Saiki + Asumi & Kusuo Oneshot

Inspired by one of @desitenya's Tumblr posts!

> Mister Number 1’s Restroom Rating Repository Weblog and Website!

Rated T, 10k, Complete

You are a P.K. Academy graduate about to head out on a road trip with your best friend when they ask you, "Are there any Mister Number 1 10+ stars on our way?".

Reasonably, you reply, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Mister Number 1," they insist. "You know. The weblog and website. The restroom rating repository."

"What⁉️"

They pull up the website.

> Fake blog/website run by Akechi!

> Intimate Variety

Rated T, individual one-shots <2k

Peaceful moments of shared affection between lovers, sometime in the future when their relationship is steady and sweet and woven deep into the fabric of their lives.

Call it snuggle ambiance, or cozycore perhaps. It's about love, and its infinite variety, as unique and ever-changing as the hearts it touches.

Stand-alone one-shots featuring favorite ship dynamics and headcanons.

Akechi x Saiki / Toritsuka x Saiki / Kuboyasu x Saiki

Satou x Saiki / Aiura x Saiki / Akechi x Aiura

> Creeping like ivy, boiling like frog

Rated T, 6.7k, Complete

So there's this allegory about boiling a frog where turning the heat up ever so slightly over time prevents it from noticing the danger and jumping out of the water.

This is that, but it's about touch starvation, a psychic, and a spirit medium.

> Oneshot Torisai get-together

> Didn't see this one coming

Rated T, 13.7k, Ongoing

College is the perfect time to try dating your cute chatty blond bestie, so Aiura Mikoto and Akechi Touma give it a go!

What starts out as "let's see where this goes" ends up going better than either of them could have ever dreamed.

> Akechi x Aiura post-canon get-together

> First Hand PSIence Fiction

Rated E, 17k, Complete

In another universe, Saiki Kusuo grows up not as an esper but as a god, tasked with distributing blessings, fending off natural disasters, and maintaining order.

It's a hell of a burden to bear, even with divine powers, and sometimes Kusuo wishes things were different.

Then a rambunctious alien shows up to destroy planet Earth and everything changes. This "Kuboyasu Aren" claims he's after Earth's resources, but mostly just ends up stealing the local god's heart!

> Local God Saiki x Alien Gangster Kuboyasu AU Enemies-to-Lovers Speedrun + Lemons.

Inspired by the Crime and Divine Punishment AU co-developed with freakshow!

> Rated M version is available.

> Bⓔⓢⓟoke Ψitrus Selection

Rated E, individual oneshots ~4-7k

Collection of miscellaneous PWP one-shot lemons for various pairings, posted once they ripen!

Toritsuka x Saiki / Nendo x Saiki / Nendo x Saiki 2 / Saiko x Kuboyasu / ???

> Real Tousuke Hours

Rated E, individual oneshots ~3-5k

A collection of Akechi Touma x Kusuke Saiki (Tousuke) lemon one-shots, reasonably unhinged considering their respective characters and combined chaotic energy.

#nopsi fic #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k. #sknpn #tdlosk #fli(psi)deverse

[maddmuses]

Byakuya and new patterns

I think something that has come up in Ducky’s server, and will be accounted for in my own characterization, is that a shinigami being seen as “advanced” or “strong” in their releases often showcase versatility in their shikai and bankai, creating multi-faceted strategies and tactics, often with varied techniques and “forms”.

You see this in a few characters, but the ones I draw attention to in this post are Kisuke Urahara (whose Shikai has various techniques), Byakuya Kuchiki (whose Bankai as various techniques/patterns), and Genryusai Yamamoto (who has various techniques in both releases). These characters all represent a degree of greater mastery over their respective releases when compared to the likes of Ichigo Kurosaki, whose abilities with his zanpakuto largely amount to “hit thing hard and maybe fire my sword cero at them” (though he’s also not the best example for spoiler reasons). So let’s compare it to something like Soifon’s zanpakuto which seems to consistently just do one thing in both releases.

Now I’m not going to pretend to understand why someone might optimize their shikai to such a degree while they have bankai (and otherwise seem to lack varied techniques for their stronger release), or superimpose my own headcanon for why Kisuke’s does that, or at least why he seems to have.

But back to how this relates to my Byakuya when he gets to it. I think his canon portrayal in terms of power is proven to be underwhelming (he’s a pretty firmly mid-tier captain, but in all fairness he’s a recent captain so even being that the fact that he’s at least single-digits in terms of relative power is saying quite a bit, and by the end of the series he drifts upwards due to the stronger captains dying and/or quitting) and that’s probably not totally satisfying for Byakuya, head of a Great Noble Clan, and a “senior” captain by the end of the series. Something he may, or may not, ponder upon is other patterns to explore with his bankai, after all his ultimate technique is pretty much the direct result of him configuring his sword into what he once thought was the best way to maximize his destructive power.

What good is that when your opponent can disregard your destructive power altogether, though? Furthermore, how useful is that if your ally is in a vulnerable position, or if both you and said ally are insufficient to strike down your opponent? There’s a ton of situations that Byakuya’s relatively versatile bankai accounts for, but it has a pretty narrow applications overall, as aside from functions such as Senkei limiting an opponent’s ability to escape him, the actual bankai still simply kills with sword strikes.

Some of the following pattern concepts I’m considering are: -Closing Resonance: White Emperor’s Heirloom: More or less the first pattern I thought of, this grants Hakuteiken (Last Sight: White Emperor’s Sword) to a particular recipient, enhancing itself if said recipient has a greater spiritual pressure than his own, or potentially otherwise blending itself with qualities of said recipient’s own active abilities. Without breaking this pattern, Byakuya is left somewhat vulnerable, without the ability to use his own bankai unless he dismisses the pattern, or whoever he grants it to elects to use it to protect him somewhat. -Unravel: Senbonzakura Kageyoshi: A pattern in which Byakuya forms his petals/blades into rapidly rotating rings/circlets, moved in a fan-like way, or even just as a sort of buzzsaw I’m unsure of the visual representation. In this way, the pattern takes its inspiration from the Seele Schneider, loosening the bonds between spiritual particles, and wearing down various shields, barriers, weapons, constructs, defenses, etc. This particular pattern being one which Byakuya uses to wear down a strong or otherwise hyper-durable opponent who he may struggle to injure. -Disperse: Senbonzakura Kageyoshi: Concentrating numerous petals/blades into a single area, Byakuya is able to enhance their speed/striking/cutting power by several fold due to the pressure that he focuses them into prior to their snapping release. This pattern specifically can be hidden within others, and essentially turns his bankai into a trap-riddled battle map when used. Usually these bombs will take the form of small pink orbs of concentrated light, though when accompanied by other patterns, or just in a generally visually-busy battlefield, they can be difficult to see. -Diffuse: Senbonzakura Kageyoshi: Probably the most subtle and least visually spectacular one I’ve thought about. More or less this version causes individual petals the scatter even further until their particle-like in nature, creating something more akin to a pink dust which can be manipulated and attack opponents from within their own respiratory system. Similar to Disperse, this pattern can be used alongside other patterns to weaken and wear down a foe on multiple fronts, while they may be convinced they’re fighting a different battle entirely.

Something else that is under consideration is the idea of an advanced level of bankai that links more to how Ichigo approaches Mugetsu/Final Getsuga Tensho. Through being one with your zanpakuto/seeing your weapon as an extension and/or part of yourself, rather than your zanpakuto being a separate entity altogether and having a “relationship” with it, or needing to subjugate it. Being that if we take the Zanpakuto Rebellion Arc as canon or dubiously canon, or what have you, the representation of Senbonzakura seems to indicate that Byakuya’s spirit is extremely similar to its master, to such a degree that it’s been implied that Senbonzakura may have Byakuya’s appearance underneath the mask.

Combining with his bankai, Byakuya becomes able to achieve Final Bankai, forming something similar to 5th anniversary Byakuya from Brave Souls, though likely with a restrictive time limit for longer than a while. The nature of training for a Final Bankai in a way to make it stable and not rob you of your powers (i.e. not in an extremely short period of time) is a lengthy process that also requires those uses of Final Bankai during that time to be judicious, which seems up Byakuya’s alley, particularly when one considers how close he may be to the realization necessary. I would say by the time of the Jaws of Hell arc he can maintain it for a few minutes at a time, but otherwise becomes exhausted and maintains a sealed release for some time.

Senbonzakura’s final bankai wouldn’t have specific patterns that are formed, but is able to assume qualities of several at a time (again, consistent with its portrayal and moveset).

Overall, I think Byakuya’s growth in terms of strength in the setting will have less to do with raw stats (though it’s assumed that this would grow somewhat) and more that his zanpakuto’s prowess, as well as the degree to which his kido factors and is used alongside it. Though we see that his speed and endurance is impressive, Byakuya is an archetypical “caster” type, and I think that is generally how we might see him grow in power.

#Byakuya tag pending

[pepsiwriteswords]

Word Find Tag!

Okay, I was tagged like two weeks ago by @emelkae, whoops. My computer was being a brat & so was my sleep schedule & my motivation lol. I also wanna find a different word processor. What do y’all use? Any recommendations?

 Anyway!

I’m to find the words Name, Remember, Tilt, and Flick. Let’s see what I’ve got!

Name:

Unknown Number: Whose # is this?

They stare at the phone for a long moment.

Me: I think that’s supposed to be my question. Who is this?

Unknown Number: I don’t give my name to strangers, that’s how you lose it.

Me: I’m not fae.

Unknown Number: Better safe than sorry. You can call me Lan.

They snort.

Me: Okay. How’d you get this number, Lan?

There’s a solid three minutes or so before an answer comes through.

Unknown Number: Sorry. Txting while working.

Me: That’s a terrible idea.

Unknown Number: Ty, I had no idea.

Unknown Number: Anyway.

Unknown Number: It’s on a sticky note in this office I clean once a week. Just curious whose # they’re holding onto.

They can feel the heat rushing to their cheeks as they respond.

Remember:

[...] “Ha. Tell me some of those fun facts they came in with.”

“Gladly.” They press their hands together under their chin, humming in thought. “You’re not allowed to own a rabbit in Queensland unless you’re a magician. There was a guy who helped fights Nazis using magic. Houdini was the first person to fly a plane in Australia. There was a guy -- his name escapes me -- who was born without arms or lower legs and was a famous magician, illustrator, and master engraver.”

Everett stares down at them. “‘Kay. That was more than I expected you to remember.”

“Kids will tell you the same thing a thousand times, and then three more just to make sure they told you. Even if I did forget any of those facts, I probably heard it ten more times the day they came in with it, and then twenty more a few days later.”

Fair.

Tilt:

“Hey. Where’ve you been all day?”

He shrugs, joining her at the railing. “Around town, exploring.” He tilts his screen so she can see who he’s talking to, and so they can see her. “Lea, this is Qila. Qila, this is Galilea.”

“Ah,” the girl on the screen says. “The one you complain about never seeing?” She grins brightly, showing off a blur of blue in her mouth that Galilea sure hopes is a set of braces. “Hi, sister Deacon never sees!”

Galilea offers a little wave. “Hi, girl I’ve never heard about.” She looks pointedly at her brother for a second before turning back to the screen. “Did you just graduate, too?”

The girl nods while Deacon makes faces at Galilea. “Should I be offended that you’ve apparently never told either one of your sisters about me, D?”

Flick:

[. . .] “Where’s Jayne, anyway? She didn’t strike me as the type to leave the heavy lifting to everyone else when we met her.”

Galilea slumps against the side of her sister’s car. “It’s . . . kind of a long story. Let’s --” Pause. She eyes the bags. “You might want to leave your stuff here until we’ve talked, actually.”

Her siblings blink at her.

“Well that sounds like it’s leading up to good news.”

Luisa flicks his ear. “Shut up, Deacon.” She hefts her bag onto her shoulder and nods toward the house. “I already have this one, so I’ll keep it, but the rest can stay for now. Lead the way.”

“Yeah,” Galilea says softly. She leads them up the stairs and through the front door, where she waves them in ahead of her. “Straight ahead down the hall, past the kitchen is the living room. Great view of the beach from the windows.” Surely no one can blame her for taking the few moments between closing the door and walking down the hallway to gather herself for this talk.

All these (except the first one) came from the same WIP for once! :O (Dealing With It, for the record lol)

The first one came from an untitled WIP that may not be a real WIP at all -- it was inspired by the fact that I got a new phone number somewhat late last year & had my new number on a sticky note on my desk for a couple days while I memorized it & my brain gave me a couple lines to work off of & I rolled with it. Been a minute since I touched the doc, though, so. Eh.

Okay, umm . . . I dunno, open tag, if you see this & you’re interested. :) Your words are: Chance, Smile, Close, annnnd Look. ^^

Thank you for the tag, @emelkae!

#pepsi writes #tag game tag game #find the word #Dealing With It #phone number WIP #XP

[osborn97lloyd]

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[arcanadreams]

That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?) 

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~” 

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams. 

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that. 

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way. 

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism. 

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?” 

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on. 

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be  careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process. 

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care. 

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet. 

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention. 

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram. 

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place. 

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly. 

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

#IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE FINALLY WRITTEN THIS #obey me #my writing #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #posts

[railingsofsorrow]

Can I please please request one where freya and rebekah find their youngest sister (human) heavily injured and they both try to stay calm but they’re hysterical. They try to keep her awake by talking to her and telling her their favorite memories. Please make it as angsty as you want

The Taste Of Your Own Tongue

[requested]

summary: No one can strike a nerve in an Original unless they let them. Except for Y/N Mikaelson. She has the power to bring peace and hurricane within the family in seconds. There is no in-between.

pairing: platonic!rebekah mikaelson x platonic!freya mikaelson x mikaelson!reader

word count: 1.9K

warnings/content: description of injury and blood; cursing; siblings arguments; but also !siblings bonding!; klaus is an ass in this one

A/N: it's longer than I expected. hope you like it, dear anon <3 and sorry for taking too long, the inspiration wasn't coming for this one. instead of freya and rebekah telling her the memories, I made her remember them by herself. hope you don't mind.

➶ ➷

“You will not dictate my life as you do to everyone else, Klaus Mikaelson!”

Y/N Mikaelson was pissed. And she had every right to be. She didn't know that being a human in a family full of vampires with a hero complex implied that she needed to be controlled at all times.

“You can't date them.” “You can't leave home today.” Every day was a new order.

She was so done.

“Y/N...” Elijah tries to mediate peacefully. But she yanks her arm away from his reach.

“No, Elijah. Why do you always take his side on everything?” She snapped, eyeing both of them. When her eyes stop on Klaus, who had a scowl plastered on his face, her orbs darkened slightly, “And I can go anywhere I want. I can travel to Paris, I can move to Hawaii. The only place I don't wanna be is here, you know why? Because you suffocate me, Klaus! I might be human but at least I don't pause my life to get paranoid over enemies that don't even exist!”

He scoffed, throwing his arms around completely annoyed by her antics. Once Y/N slammed the door shut, he rolled his eyes. Elijah gave him a look.

“Oh, let her go, will ya? Bloody nineteen-year-old can get as far away from this house as she wants. Better for my sanity!” The hybrid exclaimed, going upstairs while ignoring the worry on his chest. If she doesn't want my help, then so be it.

As soon as night arrived in New Orleans, Freya felt a shiver down her spine. Everything was too quiet. The silence was deafening and she didn't know why.

“Where the hell is Y/N?” Rebekah's unhappy voice echoed throughout the compound.

“Ask Klaus.” Elijah took a sip of his scotch, unnerved.

“Probably went to a circus for her screaming pitch show. Why?” Klaus knowledged the upcoming question before Rebekah could shriek a word.

The blond Original huffed, snatching the cup from Elijah's hand to gulp down the rest. Her frustration was up the roof. “She took my bloody bracelet that's why! I told her a thousand times to not mess with my stuff—” Rebekah was cut short by Freya entering the room with a hand holding her necklace tightly.

“Something's happened to Y/N. I- I can feel it.”

Rebekah eyed the pitch-black stone on her sister's necklace. Many years ago Freya had created a spell that connected the girl to the stone, just in case she was in any danger. Now, it was slightly burning her fingers and that did not mean she was safe.

“Let's go.” Breaking the heavy silence that was installed in the room, Rebekah took Freya's forearm guiding her out of the compound and into the streets. The childish fight already forgotten for her sister's safety came first. Always. They needed to find Y/N.

“Couldn't she wait until after the full moon to act like a kid? Such a convenient time...” Rebekah grunted the last part under her breath. They were searching around the woods for about half an hour, she was starting to think Freya's spell hadn't worked out that well and was playing tricks instead. “Freya, are you sure—”

“Oh, my god.”

Both girls froze on their step upon the scene before their eyes: Y/N Mikaelson was laid in a pool of blood with ripped clothes and several bruises and cuts around her whole body. And her leg. Her leg displayed a werewolf bite right below her knee.

Freya was the first one to run to the passed-out girl, quickly managing to check her pulse. She could barely focus her enhanced hearing on it from afar after seeing the state of her sister. “She's alive. Uh,” Looking around desperately, Freya couldn't point out what she was searching for.

“What?” Rebekah prompted nervously, still staring at the bite marks on her leg. It was getting infected. They needed to do something, fast. “Freya!” She nudged her older sister out of the daydream she was inserted in.

Freya blinked away her tears, trying to control her shaking breath as she searched for a healing spell in her mind. Why was it so hard for the words to come to her right now? Right when she needed them?

Y/N Mikaelson was everyone's weak spot. It was common knowledge that the human girl was off limits to mess with on the whole town of New Orleans. Every citizen knew that, specially the Mikaelson's enemies. That didn't mean they didn't chose to risk their necks on trying to hurt the girl. It had never happened.

Until now.

“We have to keep her awake, Rebekah.”

“Okay, okay. I'll—,” Rebekah moved away a strand that was in the girl's eyelash. “Hey, Y/N? You need to stay here, alright? Don't follow any light or nothing of the sorts.” Freya rolled her eyes as she took the youngest hands into her own. She was cold. Too cold for a human. “Remember that time you pushed Kol because he was pissing you off and as a payback he pushed your boyfriend out if a balcony?” The tactic she was using was to bring back a memory that she despised so she would wake up and scold her for it.

Freya felt Y/N's fingers twich.

“Here, let me try something.” She adjusted to be in Rebekah's previous position, so she could press her fingers in Y/N's temple. Freya mumbled words in a whisper, making the girl stir and moan in pain.

“You're hurting her.” Rebekah frowned.

“No, I'm healing her. At least until we take her home. If we as much as move her here we might make it worst. I'm slowing down the bite effect.”

Inside Y/N's head, there was a buzz that wouldn't stop and she was slipping in and out of unconsciousness. As cold fingers pressed against the side of her head, she completely fell into darkness.

Y/N felt bad about plucking out the flowers from their garden. She was ripping then from their lives. She wondered if they felt any pain? But, for her sister, she'd do anything. Even if Rebekah was already the prettiest woman she had ever seen without flowers in her hair.

“You don't have to be human for people to like you, you know?” Y/N lets out softly, admiring her job through the mirror after finishing.

Rebekah smiled, looking at her hair in contentment.

“I know. If I could—”

“... you'd go back to being human.” Y/N completes her sentence, squeezing her shoulder. “I know. Maybe after this whole mess you will.” She referred to the deal her sister had made with Elijah for the vampire cure.

“You think I could do it?” Rebekah turned to her with hopeful eyes, “Be human for one night, I mean?”

Y/N grinned, intertwining their fingers and kissing her forehead, “You could be whoever you wanted to be, Beks. And I'll love you no matter what.”

Blood started to pour out of her mouth as Y/N caughed. Freya didn't budge as her eyes were closed during the enchantment. Rebekah grimaced, tightening her hold on Y/N's hand. Now she knew her blood didn't help with he healing since she had just threw it up.

“Could you make me fly?”

Freya stopped reading and glanced up. “What?”

“With magic. Can you make me fly?” Y/N got into the room completely, flickering her fingers through some witchcraft books with curiosity. “If you think about it, I'm the only one in the family that doesn't have any gift. It would be cool to fly, wouldn't it?”

Freya chuckles, shaking her head. “You have a lot of gifts.”

“Name one, Freya. Just one. And it can't be above average grades on math.” She gave her a stern look, which made Freya laugh.

“No, I can't make you fly. But I can teach some things.”

“Cool things?”

Freya rolled her eyes and closed the book, “Whatever you define as ‘cool things’, Y/N.”

“This will slow down the process,” Freya explained to Rebekah as she withdrew her hands after finishing the spell. “We need to take her to Klaus.”

Her subconscious carried out all of the old memories with her family as a way to keep her grounded for a while.

“We'll be okay, right?” Her voice sounded broken. In a way, it resembled her heart. Finn Mikaelson was gone. Again. Despite all their disparities, he was still her brother and she would always miss him.

No one reacted for a long minute. And then, Elijah let out a sigh, “Yes. We will.”

“Always and forever,” Klaus muttered, raising a glass of wine. Soon everyone followed.

“Always and forever.”

Rebekah nods, getting on her knees to take Y/N into her arms.

“Be careful! She's really hurt.”

Rebekah provided a confused look, “Why are you standing there? We need to go.”

“Can you take her home?”

Rebekah studies her eyes for a moment, detecting a glimpse of something she was way too familiar with to not recognize.

“Yes.” Rebekah let out, “Be careful.”

Oh, and she was. But the wolf responsible for that didn't live to howl during another full moon.

Sunlight tickled her eyelashes as she drifted away from her dreams and into reality. Y/N groaned, covering her face with her arms. Who leaves the curtains open?!

“That is for you to learn to not mess with my stuff again.”

The teenager gasped, almost falling off the bed when someone spoke beside her. Rebekah was giving her an amused look.

“What?”

The blonde rolled her eyes, turning her interest to her nails. “How's that bite going, by the way?”

Y/N froze in midst of getting out of bed. As she scanned her body for injuries, nothing was found. She let out a shaky breath; all the memories coming together inside her head. A pool of tears welled up and she didn't fight them. Rebekah was by her side in a second.

“No, don't cry. You're okay.” The vampire reassured, wiping away her cheeks. Y/N started to sob violently and Rebekah didn't find another alternative other than hug her. “Shh. I got you, baby sis. You're safe.”

In between hiccups, she tried to apologize. “I'm- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—”

“I know. It's okay. You're okay, hm?” Rebekah cupped her cheeks so she would meet her eyes, “You're at home. Safe and sound. See? It's alright, Y/N.”

“Just don't scare us like that again.” Freya blurted out by the door, causing both to look over. She smiled softly at them. “We might hover a lot... And we'll manage that. But, Y/N. We love you, that's the only reason why we do that. If anything happens, we'd never forgive ourselves.”

Y/N nodded weakly, resting her forehead on Rebekah's shoulder as the older one slipped her fingers through her hair. “I know. I'm sorry. I overreacted, it was stupid.”

“You still need to stop treating me like a kid.” She mumbled.

Freya and Rebekah glanced at each other, “We know.”

“It would make it easier if you stopped acting like one, too.”

Y/N whined as Rebekah smirked, “And stop stealing my stuff!”

“It looks better on me anyway!”

And just like that, everything was back to normal. Well, the most normal the Mikaelson household could afford.

#the originals fanfiction #freya mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #reader insert #x reader #kol mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson

[sincerelylaurel]

How to Be More Efficient As a Writer

source: me <3 (@writingwithacutlass ) please don't copy/repost without permission! :)

hi people! i'm alive! i think! school has been really stressful and time-consuming but midterm exams are over and i have a 3-week break so hopefully I'll be able to post more consistently during that time. moving on from the little life update— here are some tips to help you write more efficiently! i use these methods myself all the time too!

writing sprints

Writing sprints can be a very efficient way to write quickly in short periods of time. Set a timer for anywhere from 5 minutes to half an hour, and write continuously until time is up. Even if you don’t know what to write, write down everything you can find in your mind. You can always take out unnecessary bits later. These sprints can be stressful but they also force your creativity and inspiration. Set attainable goals for yourself, both long-term and short-term!

routine

Create a routine that works for you. If you are most productive from 8pm to 10pm, use that time wisely. Of course most of us have schoolwork and other priorities, so complete the most important responsibility during that time. You might have time left to write, but you probably won’t so you have to make time yourself. Use all your little slots of free time, such as bus rides, to write. Time isn’t gonna make itself, so you have to do it intentionally.

use an outline

Have an outline to guide you as you write. Even pantsers should have some form of outline to guide their story. You’ll need to know the beginning and ending of your story. If you think you’ll be okay without one because you’ll remember it, no you won’t. Write every single detail down somewhere. This includes scene ideas, character details, and important plot points.

don’t edit as you write

This is a common “fatal flaw” when it comes to writing efficiently. Editing as you write slows you down so much, and isn’t actually productive at all. You just get stuck in the same few chapters forever because you’re constantly editing the same few scenes. You’ll be unmotivated to write and won't get anything done. Remember you can edit in the second draft!!

write out of order

Although you shouldn’t wait for inspiration to strike before you write, you should make the best of it when it does happen! Got a random boost of inspiration to write a scene that happens 5 chapters after the chapter you’re currently at? Go ahead and write it. You don’t have to write chronologically! Write scenes whenever you want to and piece them together later.

take care of yourself

The most important key to becoming a more efficient writer is being able to take care of yourself. Do not overwork yourself. This will only lead to burnout and writer’s block, and you don’t know how long it’ll last. Give yourself some space and rest. Let yourself enjoy other hobbies. Writing is not meant to be a chore (unless it’s actually your full-time job, but even then don’t overwork yourself)! If writing has a negative impact on your health, step away from it and focus on yourself for a while <3

#writing #writeblr #writing inspiration #writers on tumblr #writing advice #writer #writing techniques #my writing #writersofinstagram #writeaway #efficiently #teen writers #teen writer #tips for writers #writers block #writerscommunity #writersofig

[wrenhyperfixates]

Gold Writing

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When a charming, handsome stranger gives you inspiration for the first time in weeks, you try to guess what it is he’s famous for in exchange for his name. Warnings: none at all :) A/N: Just a little idea I’d been toying around with for a bit. Enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​

Disclaimer: Gif and picture not mine

It was an uncharacteristically warm day for this time of year in New York City. Or so you’d been told, anyway. You had been living here for three months, tops; not really long enough to have a feel for the weather patterns. Either way, you were grateful for the sun’s rays coating your face, bathing you in their heat.

You turned your face away from the sky and down towards the sketchbook in your lap. It had been your hope that Central Park might inspire you, but you were still having artist’s block. It was at least better than being cooped up in your apartment all day. You didn’t really know anyone yet, save for your old friend who you had moved in next to. If it hadn’t been for them encouraging you, you probably never would have packed up and moved. They’d promised to introduce you to some people they knew, too, so you wouldn’t get lonely. Sadly, the scheduling never worked out.

And so, here you were, alone on a bench. Looking at all the couples and families and friends bustling and laughing around you, you thought you might be the only person all by yourself on this Saturday afternoon. Well, no, not the only one, you realized, spying a raven-haired man on a bench not too far away. His nose was buried in a book, a few locks of his shiny, dark hair falling out of his bun and framing his face. He looked familiar, but not in a "you knew him" sort of way. More in that you thought he might be famous somehow. No one else seemed to notice him, though.

You glanced back down at the empty pages, waiting to be filled by the strokes of your pencil. Then you looked back at the mystery man again, scooting a little closer to the end of your bench. Without really thinking about it, your deft fingers picked up your standard 2B pencil and began to sketch.

Starting with the sharp lines of his jaw, you moved onto his hair that intrigued you so. You don’t think you’d ever seen another person with hair that dark a color. Trying to get every last detail right, you kept glancing up and down. By the time you were onto the shading, you were certain that you had seen him somewhere before. The next time you glanced up, he was gone, and a frown settled on your features as you looked left and right, searching for the only subject to inspire you in days.

“It is a lovely drawing, darling,” a smooth baritone voice with a British accent said from behind you, “but I do not really think that is my best angle.”

You squeaked in surprise and dropped your sketchbook. The man somehow managed to reach out in front of you and catch it. He came to sit next to you, and as he walked around the bench, you realized just how tall he was.

“I think you dropped this,” he said with a charming smile, handing your sketchbook to you.

“I, uh, yeah. I did,” you stammered, hating how you couldn’t be as suave as him. Plus, he was unfairly good looking. “Thank you. And, um, sorry. About, you know, drawing you.”

“On the contrary, darling, there is no need to apologize. I am quite happy to have my likeness captured in such a flattering light,” he chuckled, taking off his sunglasses and revealing his brilliant blue-green eyes. “Really, I should be thanking you.”

With all the small details you were gathering, it felt like his name was on the tip of your tongue. Infuriatingly enough, you still couldn’t place it. You didn’t think he was a singer, that didn’t feel right. Though you did feel like his mesmerizing voice would be well suited to it. So, a well-known author, perhaps? He had been reading, after all. But you were woefully behind on your own reading list, so you had a feeling it wasn’t that either. You briefly wondered what even happened to the book he’d had; it was nowhere on him, almost like he’d stored it in some pocket of space.

“Oh,” you finally responded, nervously laughing. “You’re welcome, in that case. And thank you. For the compliments, I mean.”

“Ah, you are very welcome, too. It is not often I meet such a talented artist.” He somehow managed to sprawl out on the somewhat uncomfortable park bench, his long legs spread wide. It wasn’t indecent, exactly, but it somehow felt like it was. His arms were resting on the back of the seat so that, had you been leaning back, one of them would have been wrapped around your shoulder. “I do somehow find it hard to believe I was the most interesting thing in the vicinity, however. Though, I suppose I am rather flattered by that notion, too.”

His mischievous grin sent pleasant shivers down your spine. “Well, when inspiration strikes,” you anxiously chuckled with a shrug. Your nerves were still telling you he was about to get mad at any second.

“I do suppose that is true.” He cocked his head at you in the most adorable way. “Then I am honored to provide you with it.”

You suddenly felt even warmer than you had before, but you knew it had nothing to do with the sun anymore, but rather was from this enrapturing stranger. Though, this man’s smile certainly rivaled the sun.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking,” you began, “but you seem awfully familiar. You don’t happen to be famous, do you?”

“Oh, so you have not yet figured it out, then. I had been wondering. I suppose that, yes, I could be considered famous.”

When he didn’t say anything else, you continued, “Can I get a name then? I’m afraid I don’t really keep up with pop culture all that much.”

“Well, I suppose I could tell you my name.” His grin somehow grew to be even more mischievous. “But where is the fun in that? Besides, I am afraid you might start treating me differently if you knew.”

“Ok, that’s fair.” A spark of excitement lit behind your eyes as you got an idea and turned to face the captivating stranger. “How about this, I get three guesses about what it is you’re known for. If I get it right, you have to tell me your name. If not, then it can stay a mystery forever, if you want it to.”

“A most intriguing proposition. Alright, I accept. First guess?”

“Hang on,” you said, putting up your hand. “If I only get three guesses, I feel like it would be fair if I got to talk to you for a bit longer, at least. Unless I’m holding you up from something, of course.”

“I have time to spare, darling.” He stood up and offered you his hand. “Join me on a walk?”

An easy dialogue flowed between you as you strolled through the park. The way the light was illuminating his features made your hands itch to sketch him again. That reminded you to ask about his book, which he pulled out from seemingly nowhere.

“Hang on,” you said, getting your first idea. “Are you like a-a magician or a, um, an illusionist or something?”

“Well, it is interesting that you mention that. Magic is more a hobby than anything else,” he replied. “But not what I am known for, per se. Two guesses left.”

You frowned and flipped through the pages of the book he’d handed you. Hoping he’d made some kind of foolish error, you checked the covers for his name. No such luck. Absorbed in your hunt for clues, you weren’t paying attention to the world around you. Your companion suddenly grabbed you and jerked you to a stop. A ball whizzed past your head. If you’d kept walking, it surely would have hit you.

“You really should be more careful,” he playfully tsked. Then he grew more serious as he gently turned your head, checking for injuries. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, feeling flustered from the attention of his piercing gaze. He also felt surprisingly cool for how warm out it was. You looked up at him and saw him raising his eyebrows as if he didn’t believe you. “I’m fine, really,” you added more convincingly. “Just my pride that’s wounded, I guess. But you stopped me in time. So, thank you.”

“It was no problem, darling,” he replied as you set off on the path again. “After all, I can’t have you getting hurt before you finish guessing, now can I?”

Again, you giggled, simultaneously loving and hating how he had that effect on you. “No, I guess not.”

“So, have you found whatever it is your looking for in my book?”

Glancing down at the page you had open, you saw it was the story of Rumpelstiltskin. How ironic. You tried to forge a connection between the book of fairytales and this man in your mind, but were coming up empty. Unless, of course, he was going to the source material for some reason, like he was preparing for a role.

“An actor!” you said, feeling sure you’d gotten it now. You’d definitely felt like you’d seen him on your TV screen before. Plus, he was definitely handsome enough for it. “That’s got to be it.”

“While I have appeared on television before, that is still incorrect, darling. One guess remaining.”

Oh how you wanted to wipe that smug yet ridiculously captivating grin from his face. Maybe with a kiss... Nope, no. That was ridiculous; you just met him. Besides, he was famous. Why on God’s green earth would he be interested in you as anything more than an entertaining encounter to pass the afternoon? So, you’d just have to do it with the right guess. You put your thinking cap on.

“Ok, well if you were on TV but aren’t an actor, maybe it was in an interview,” you thought out loud, gauging his reaction. You were excited, but also sad that your game was coming to a close. He’d surely leave after, whether you got it right or not. You supposed you could always try to look it up once you got home, if you couldn’t guess correctly. At least it would make for a fun story then. “I suppose there’s reality shows too, but that doesn’t quite seem your style. And, I guess you could be doing the interviewing—like a reporter or something—but that doesn’t sit quite right either. Sports! They televise sports. Plus I’m not really a fan, so I could believe I’ve heard of you but not totally recognize you. So, my final guess is athlete.”

“And you are certain that is your final guess?” He had a wonderful poker face and gave away nothing as to whether or not it was right. “Last chance to turn back.”

You appraised him, thinking he looked like he could be an athlete. And maybe it was some reverse psychology, trying to get you to abandon the correct guess. You didn’t really have any better ideas, anyway.

“Yes?”

“So sorry, but that is incorrect. And you are regretfully out of guesses, darling.”

“Of course it's not,” you sighed. He seemed genuinely saddened by how dismayed you seemed, so you perked up. “It was fun, though. So I, uh, I guess I won’t hold you up any longer.”

“You are correct; this was quite fun. Unfortunately, I do have another arrangement to get to,” he said in a way that made you believe he was actually upset over it. “How about that sketch that started this all, though? That one you made of me?”

“What of it?” you asked.

“May I buy it off of you?”

Your mouth formed a surprised little circle. “I mean, you can honestly have it for free. It is an unsolicited picture of you, after all. I wouldn’t feel right accepting your money for it.”

“Nonsense, I am only offering a small amount, anyway. Say, the price of a cup of coffee?”

You smiled at your feet as you caught onto what he was saying. It made your insides feel fuzzy. Maybe you wouldn’t accept, though. After all, you still didn’t know who he was. But if you were to go on a date, then certainly he would tell you.

“Sure,” you agreed. “I would love that.”

You tore out the sketch and handed it to him. In exchange, he gave you his card and said to call him to set a time and place. You glanced down at the small paper in your hands, not yet reading it. By the time you looked back up, he was already gone. With your handsome stranger nowhere to be found, you went to actually read his information. Unable to contain your surprise, not to mention shock at how foolish you were, you gasped, and your jaw hung open.

Gold writing on a green card held the secret you’d been trying to find the answer to all afternoon. Of course he was an Avenger, a hero. You ran your fingers over his name, a small smile forming on your lips. You quickly punched the contact into your phone and headed off in the direction of your apartment.

“Well, I’m glad this isn’t goodbye, Loki Laufeyson,” you mused to yourself, relishing in the way his name rolled off your tongue. “I’ll see you soon.”

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #mcu loki #loki fluff #fluff #mcu fluff #marvel fluff #reader insert #gender netural reader #marvel #mcu #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #loki fanfic #mcu reader insert #loki friggason #loki friggason x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki oneshot #marvel oneshot #loki x y/n

[pagingdoctorbedlam]

Ready for zombies, Zoro, and some hurt/comfort? Then take a swig of this potion for @quirkyseastone ‘s “Brew a Love Potion” event! (But please read the warnings first!)

Characters: Zoro x Reader; appearance by Bartholomew Kuma

Genre: Zombie/Apocalypse, Hurt/Comfort (a bit light on the comfort though, woops)

TW/CW: Violence, guns and swords, blood, light gore, mentions of cannibalism, undead bodies

Inspiration: The concept for zombies in this fic is inspired by the novel Breathers by S.G. Browne (at least, what I remember from having read it over 10 years ago...)

Word Count: ~3.1k words

...

"Hold still, we're almost..." You apply the last bit of blush before appraising your handiwork. Not bad, if you said so yourself. At a glance, Zoro doesn't even look dead. "There. Want a mirror to see?"

"I trust you not to doll me up too bad." Roronoa Zoro yawns, even though the legendary zombie hunter no longer needs to sleep, having recently been turned into a zombie himself. Which, contrary to popular belief, is not in and of itself a death sentence. Most zombies act as they did in life, even if their bodies no longer recover the way a living human's does. The danger comes from the zombies who try to stop this decay by feasting on human brains...and sometimes more dangerous are the humans who've decided that every zombie is a ticking time bomb regardless of said zombie's intentions. 

At least Zoro had never been that way, but now he's got to hide from the hunters who once considered him a legend. Sure, it wouldn't be hard for him to fight off hunters, even if you've had to stitch each limb back on at least twice (and you're still not sure where one of his eyes ended up). But you'd rather your newfound partner in protecting innocent zombies not cause a scene simply by walking through the market.

"Remember, don't rub your face. This makeup cost me a fortune. And try to fake breathing this time, okay?"

"Yeah yeah, I got it." He manages to take a breath that's believable but isn't so deep that it rattles the loose bones and organs in his slowly decaying chest.

Both of you get to your feet and finish the rest of your preparations for the outside world. Your clothing hides as much skin as possible, even with the warm temperatures outside. You spray Zoro down with cheap cologne so he smells less like roadkill and more like a teenager trying to cover up a bad case of B.O. And you slip on filtration masks in a vain attempt to avoid the ever-present smoke and dust beyond your walls.

No one's sure if the zombies came about because of the bombs, or if the bombs were secretly launched because the powers-that-be learned about the first nascent zombies and failed with their pre-emptive strike. But now much of the world is a wasteland, and bargaining for resources is bad enough without half the population lobbing accusations of cannibalism at the other half. You can't hold off this trip any longer, because you've ended up looking after a number of innocent zombies, and they need medical supplies before they fall apart any further.

You shoo Zoro away from the driver's spot on your motorbike. "Nuh uh buddy, we aren't getting lost today." You've heard a new band of hunters is coming to town, and the last thing you want is to run into them before you have a chance to secure your supplies.

"I don't get lost! They just keep changing where the market is." Zoro still reluctantly waits for you to take your place at the front before he sits behind you and firmly snakes his arms around your waist. You pretend you can feel his pulse when he holds you, even though you know the heart in his chest has long stopped beating.

Markets are supposed to be neutral ground. Everyone needs resources to survive after all, and one of the few things that bombs and zombie outbreaks couldn't kill is commerce. Stalls line the aisles of what was once a grocery store, faded advertisements promoting foods that no one's seen in years, and someone has fixed the speaker system to play the same old pop hits in a vain attempt at normalcy.

You hold tight to Zoro's hand, both to keep him from getting lost and so he stays close in case of danger. He obliges, and even holds bags for you as you pull him around. You might've called this romantic in the times before, back when your purchases would've been far more frivolous than bandages and shelf-stable rations, but you're unsure how close you and Zoro would've been without being thrown together by circumstance.

You pause by one stall, eyes wide. Zoro doesn't notice and keeps walking until he notices that you won't budge. He raises an eyebrow when he finally joins you. "What, some kinda' plastic plant?"

"Not plastic. It's real." You forgive him the mistake though, as the plant has sturdy, waxy leaves that almost look sculpted. It feels like so long since you've seen anything green (aside from Zoro's hair), much less an actual plant. But you note the name scribbled in tape on its battered plastic pot. It's nothing useful, not medicinal or edible in the slightest. Just a begonia that hasn't even bloomed yet.

The shopkeeper asks, "Gonna gawk, or you gonna' buy?"

You know you can't afford a plant, what with how rare they are. You might be able to bargain and beg if it were something more useful, but...

"We'll buy." Zoro slams something down on the table. "This'll be enough?"

You catch the glint of gold peeking from between his fingers. Jewelry isn't useful anymore, but human greed has a hard time giving up old habits. The shopkeeper smiles wide and practically shoves the begonia at you with one hand while snatching up Zoro's earring with the other. You thank him and depart the stall without another word, clutching the flower close to your chest.

"What was that about?" You hiss at Zoro.

"Looked like you wanted it," he says with a shrug. You squint up at his remaining earrings, only to realize that in his haste to remove the one he traded away, he tore the hole in his ear a little in the process. Probably didn't even notice that he'd done so, the stubborn fool...

Well, what's done is done. "Thank you. I'll make sure to take excellent care of it."

"Don't mention it." Which you know is Zoro-speak for "you're welcome". So you smile back at him without saying anything more on the subject, and continue the rest of your trek through the market.

You make the mistake of thinking this is a surprisingly nice day. But you don't realize that someone has noticed how Zoro isn't bleeding.

When Zoro pulls out one sword and tightens his grip around your midsection, you don't have to ask why. You're being followed.

You absently wonder what gave you away. Never removing your masks? A smudge in Zoro's makeup that revealed the deathly pallor underneath? It doesn't really matter, you think. Whoever is after you will chase you down until they can swing their weapons and play at being heroes, so all you can do is fight on your own terms. You avoid going home and swerve the bike toward the burned-out husk of an abandoned store that not even the most desperate zombies would hide in.

You glance at the tilted rearview mirror on your bike. The figures chasing you are hulking brutes, but nothing compared to their ringleader. He's built like a brick house with legs, and his imposing figure is thrown off by the pristine white hat topped with small bear ears. Instead of a holstered weapon, he has a bible strapped to his side. You've heard of this man. Judging by the look in Zoro's eyes, he does too. One of the most notorious zombie hunters in the country: Bartholomew Kuma.

What is he doing here, of all places?

Zoro says, "Soon as we touch down, hide. It's me they want."

"I can't just leave you. You know who that is back there?"

"Doesn't matter. I already died once. They can't do worse than that to me. But they could still hurt you plenty. 'Specially if you came back before they were done with you." In the rearview mirror, Zoro's eyes are sharp and cold as his blades.

You know how to handle a weapon in self-defense, but you're nowhere near the master that Zoro is. And he has a point. You're still human, you can bleed, you can hurt. And that might chew Zoro up worse than anything Kuma and crew could throw at him. You resign yourself to your fate and think of where in that burnt-out building you might be able to hide, preferably while still keeping an ear out for danger.

You speed on, trying to shake your pursuers, but soon the road runs out. The bones of burnt buildings jut out before you like oversized tombstones. You remember scouting here before, trying to usher out displaced zombies before the remnants of the building could collapse on them. Much of the ruins have fallen since you were last here, but there's still a concrete bunker that was once a stockroom, and it's mostly intact. You can lay low there until the fighting's over. 

You relay this plan to Zoro, and you tell him, "I'll be safe there, don't worry about me. Once the fighting's done, I'll come back down and patch you up. So don't die on me again, alright?"

Zoro nods, even though he surely knows the claim is more for your comfort than anything. He's a zombie, after all, and they don't heal the way humans do unless they devour human brains. He won't bleed, but if he looses a limb, or even his head? There's nothing you can do to fix that. And to be honest, you're not sure if that'll do him in, or if he'd continue living in pieces. You don't want to find out.

You park. And you know you should hit the ground running, but your heart is hammering in your chest. You turn to Zoro as he pulls out his blades.

You quickly put your warm hands on his cold cheeks and pull him in for a kiss. You two never attached words to what's simmered under the surface for so long, but in case of the worst...you couldn't handle him not knowing how  you truly felt. He blinks as you pull away, briefly stunned. You wonder if he'd blush if he could.

You run into the burnt-out husk of a building. The touch of your lips on Zoro's is replaced by a sword between his teeth.

In another lifetime, before people stopped dying right and the world went to hell over it, this building was a clothing store. You shopped here for outfits you haven't seen in years. Once, a friend who worked here snuck you into the back room, and you ate cheap takeout while surrounded by wall-to-ceiling racks of clothing and shoes. If you took time to wipe away the dust, you might still find graffiti left by the workers during their final shifts. You wonder if your friend left one.

You cannot look because you are huddled on a shelf and trying not to make a sound. The shelves are sturdy metal and easy to climb even without the rolling ladder. You're hidden high above the heads of anyone who might come in and pressed against a wall. No one should find you here.

For awhile, you heard sounds from outside. Speaking at first, though you couldn't make out what was being said. Then battle, swords colliding and guns firing. Screams. Then...nothing. You don't know if it's safe to come out. You'll find out soon. There are footsteps approaching.

A voice you do not recognize says your name.

"Roronoa Zoro is dead. Again. I am sorry that it had to happen." Heavy footfalls contrast a voice that is soft, almost even kind. "I understand why you might want to save him. You've built quite a reputation for that, you know. But I'm afraid it ends here. We cannot allow you to keep any more abominations alive. You understand that is what they are, don't you?"

You know he's trying to goad you into revealing yourself. It takes everything in your power to hold still and silent.

Metal crumples nearby with a shrill squeal, as if it could protest its false bones being broken.

"If you were to go on a trip...where would you like to go?"

The question throws you off guard, almost enough for sound to escape your lips.

"We do not have to kill you. All the government wants is to talk. If you cooperate, you'll be transported somewhere safe. Free of zombies, even." More metal crumples, and you wonder how Kuma is doing it. Does he have a weapon, or is he strong enough to break the storage shelves with his bare hands? "All you have to do is come willingly, and when we're done, you can go wherever you'd like, and you'll be kept safe."

But the only place you can think of is home. With Zoro. No matter what might come after you there.

The shelf under you shifts, and your body spasms as if you fell in a dream and awoke with your mind still lurching. You reach for anything to grab onto, but your fingers only touch air. (For the briefest instance, you spy graffiti drawn by a familiar hand upon the wall.)

You do not immediately recognize the feel of the arms, because they are warm and pulsing with life. You stare up at Zoro's face in disbelief. He's missing an eye and his face is smeared with blood, mouth drawn in a thin line.

"You survived," Kuma intones softly. "You ate them." And you wish you could refute him, but even before he spoke, you knew it to be true. Zoro's bloody fingers dig into your clothes to hold you tight. You hear his heartbeat for the first time, and it rarely skips a beat. Kuma says, "Let your friend down, Roronoa. You don't want to do this."

"Think I'm some mindless cannibal? Think again." Zoro sets you down and looks  you dead in the eye. "Told you I wouldn't die. And neither will you. Now, get out of here." Half a second before returning his sword to his mouth, his tongue flickers over his blood-stained lips. "Hurry!"

You do as he asks and flee to the doorway of the building. You know you should run to the motorcycle and drive out of here, but there are two problems with that. One is how you don't want to leave Zoro again. The other is that even if you admit the truth to yourself, that he finally gave in and consumed the brains of his enemies like the zombies he used to put down...you don't want to turn around and see what he did to the corpses of Kuma's followers.

The fight is swift and brutal. You've seen Zoro fight before, but while he's normally a whirlwind with his blades, now he's a demonic torrent. Much as he tries to stick to his traditional fighting forms, they slip into more instinctual slashes when Kuma pushes back, and the only thing that keeps Zoro on top is sheer ferocity. He moves so fast, you swear he's slashing three times faster than a normal man, leaving the afterimages of a three-faced demon. (You've heard rumors of zombies growing entirely new parts when they've eaten too much mortal flesh, but surely those are only rumors, survivors not understanding what they're seeing...)

Kuma is far quicker than his size would suggest. But even he begins to buckle. He blocks one blade with a bible far sturdier than it appears, and then lunges forward in a final desperate attack. Zoro braces to parry an attack, but is taken aback as no blow comes. Something metal and blinking is clasped onto his wrist.

"We will not meet again."

And Kuma is gone. You blink in surprise. You swore you didn't see him leave through the other holes in the building, didn't feel anyone pass you, and yet...

The normally composed swordsman growls as he sheathes his swords and tries to pry the blinking metal bangle (a tracking device, what else could it be?) off his arm. You want to approach him, but are unsure if you should; all you can do is watch as he uselessly paws at the bangle. Until he stops suddenly. You catch a glimpse of fresh crimson.

Zoro freezes as the reality of what he's done, what he's become, finally settles in. He's a statue slowly dripping red, most of which isn't his own. His breath shudders, and that too takes him off-guard. He sways where he stands, almost falling to his knees but somehow staying upright.

Before you can stop yourself, your feet carry you toward him, and you reach out. Your fingers brush against his back. He growls, "Don't. I'm not..."

"It doesn't matter what you are. You're still Zoro." 

Gentle pushes at his shoulders turn him around so he faces you. His face has more color than you've ever seen, blood red and flesh pink and mottled blues and violets of bruises. His closed eyelid twitches as the eye underneath regenerates. How long will it be until all the color's gone, and electrical impulses run short to leave his heart to hang heavy and empty in his chest, and how much longer than that until he gets a taste for life again regardless of the cost?

That doesn't matter right now. The future looms taller and more frightening than Kuma, but right now, you're two scared humans in a broken warehouse. You wrap your arms around Zoro and pull him close.

For the briefest moment, you feel his mouth open, hear the click in his jaw. His teeth brush against your ear. You close your eyes and refuse to think about it.

His chin rests on your shoulder. Mouth closed. Arms wrap around you right and your hearts beat together, lungs scramble for air together, blood and worry (and tears, you think, but you're not sure whose) intermingle and crawl to a slow stop until only a numb and temporary peace remains.

"You'd be forgiven for walking away." His voice is raw and tired with the weight of living again and all that took.

"Maybe. But someone has to keep you from getting lost." You give him one final squeeze before letting him go. "Come on. Let's go home and get you cleaned up."

When morning comes, you'll have to face what the future holds for a brain-eating swordsman and the one who looks out for him despite it all. But tonight, the both of you are miraculously alive and breathing, and there's a green new plant in the window ready to soak up all the sunlight tomorrow can offer.

#seas brew a love potion challenge #opfanfic #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zombie au #hurt/comfort #bedlam writes

[spiltscribbles]

How would you do a wolfstar fic based on the way I loved you by taylor swift? from remus' pov :)

~Notes: OMFG Nonny! I need you to understand that this ask threw me back to my Twilight days when I’d watch endless edits of Bella/Edward and this particular one with this song where for some reason Edward was both guys lksajghdsfjoieagh God what a time😂 So thank you and here’s a HC of how’d I write it becs I sorta hate all my writing rn rip fklsdghasdgh But JFC it got so fucking long!!! I’M SO SORRY!

.-

So It would be a muggle AU, non linear sort of thing where you’d see Lily and Remus just hanging out in his house on boxing day of their sixth year. And they’re shuffling through photos of themselves and friends at  Hogwarts. And Remus kind of just stops at this one, particular photo from second semester of last year, when he and Sirius were still going out.

James and Lily are in the background smiling straight on the camera, but the focus is mostly where Remus and Sirius are completely oblivious to the photo, and it’s obvious that Sirius is trying to drag him onto his lap, and Remus’s head is thrown back in laughter, and Sirius is looking at him in that grossly besotted way that softens his gorgeously angular features, and it’s just an absolute deluge of emotions for Remus.

So flashback

They first met when the marauders were auspiciously roomed together as young lads in Hogwarts, and Remus grew up in a quiet coastal town in the north of Wales where everyone knew everyone, and English was actually the second language, and to put it simply, being thrown into that space with the chaotic duo that are James and Sirius was a culture shock. Even Peter— who’s plummy and  who comes from a fine, upper middle class family and is at least familiar with them in the way that the patrician always are aware of one another. So Remus automatically felt like the odd boy out.

But that night, when he wakes up because he misses his Mam and Da, he finds the tallest boy— the one with striking pale eyes and an air of superiority that kind of got on Remus’s nerves, sitting on the windowsill and up at the stars— his namesake in particular. And so Remus joins him and tells him the love story of the moon and the sun that was his Mam’s favorite and it’s the first time they feel something neither of them know the name for quite yet.

Throughout the subsequent years the marauders grow as close as family, a brotherhood of sorts.  But they all know there are different manifestations of friendships within them. There’s Sirius and James who are the boisterous, bombastic ones that always seek the spotlight, and who can finish each others sentences and who cheer one each other along when it comes to their rowdiest of pranks. There’s Peter who’s always been intimidated by Sirius, and thankful for James’s friendship and comfortable with Remus because he’s the only one who never teased him. Then there’s James and Remus where they’ve always been impressed by one another, James because he knows Remus comes from humble beginnings and is bright in the way he works for everything he has and it’s never doubted he deserves it. And Remus is impressed over how much and how deeply James loves and cares about his chosen people, how he can inspire a crowd so effortlessly. But then, probably most peculiarly to Remus is his relationship with Sirius.

He doesn’t mean to sound rude or ungrateful, but his string to Sirius is  a relationship that absolutely eclipses all the others. It’s quiet in it’s intensity, but persistent like a heartbeat. It’s nights they spend trading stories by moonlight, and afternoons quizzing each other by the fire even though Sirius has always been naturally brilliant and Remus knows he’s just humoring him, but doesn’t call him on it because he hates the thought of it ending. It’s also evenings when James is at extra footie practice that Sirius teases him for, and Peter’s at chess club, and it’s just the pair of them, existing in each others space, doing whatever they want because it’s enough just to have the other there.

Remus is confused in third year when Sirius got especially pissy because Remus began hanging out more and more with the girl James has always targeted to being a know-it-all. And Remus was cross right back because they don’t even know Lily, and she’s a nice girl, and the only other Northerner like him in their entire year, and Sirius has no reason to be cross at him making a friend outside the marauders.

But then he got even MORE confused when Sirius asked him if he liked her. And Remus literally laughed out loud, which made Sirius scrunch his face sourly which just looked funny because his features are far too gorgeous to be put in such a nasty expression. And it’s nearly five minutes later when he catches his breath and tells Sirius that he and Lily are just friends and only friends. Comparing her to a sister, which became truth in the following years.

And it’s like a snap of the fingers when Sirius immediately smoothes out his face and grins cockily once more, and makes Remus promise that they don’t date any girls unless the others all approve. And Remus isn’t sure why Sirius’s intense focus on his love life makes something peculiar unfurl in his gut but he ignores it and shakes Sirius’s still too large hand— like a puppy needing to grow into his palms. And then they write up a contract and make James and Peter sign along with them in the codenames they came up with last year. Prongs for James because his hair is something gravity defying, Wormtail for Peter because of his pet rat, Padfoot for Sirius because of him asking sodding Minerva McGonagall— their head of house— if she was on her time of the month— as a first year when she gave him and James three weeks detention for a crude prank. And Moony for Remus who constantly got lost in his books and in his daydreams that it takes the others multiple times calling his name for him to be brought back to earth.

Remus kept the contract in his lovage, but never bothered to pull it out fourth year when Sirius suddenly became very, very aware of his good looks, and high social standing, and how any girl attracted to men would chew off her own leg to get a date with him— well save for the possibly only exception that is Lily Evans. And Remus had to just deal with it, and he did. He didn’t know why Sirius and his frequent, but short lasting flings got under his skin so thoroughly. It’s not like he’s annoyed over Peter and his girlfriend Eloise or how James is still going out with a couple different girls even though he’s near constantly flirting with Lily. And it’s not like the ones Sirius decides to go out with are annoying or anything. He really likes most of them. Like Marlene is absolutely hilarious, and Maci has the same world history class with Remus so they studied together a lot. And the rest have perfectly fine attitudes. It’s just— It’s just Sirius begins sleeping more often through the night instead of swapping stories with Remus, and isn’t readily available for whenever Remus needs to take a walk in the woods because he’s becoming full of anxiety over just about everything, and it’s just— He just misses Sirius a lot.

And Remus thinks he’s an idiot because why the fuck does he feel so territorial towards one of his best friends? Why doesn’t he act this way towards James or Peter or even Lily. He doesn’t ever feel this ridiculous, clawing emotion. Something he only calls by name, jealousy, when it’s late and quiet and he’s all alone. And Remus panics because he has no idea what this means, what or why he feels this way. Because he’s not a poof?? Is he? It’s not like he’s ever been especially interested in girls or their knickers, and if the other fifteen year old boys around him is anything to go by, that’s odd. But it’s not as if he’s especially interested in any other blokes either— anyone besides Sirius. Sirius and his artfully tousled black hair that tumbles down the nape of his neck and just a couple inches above his shoulders. and his piercing eyes that always seem as if they can look right into Remus’s soul and sift through all his points of diffidence. Sirius who’s always been there for Remus in ways Remus never even expected, even knew how to ask for. The boy who brings him hot chocolate on days his migraines are especially awful, and who always begs the Matron to stay over on the nights Remus is just forced to stay in the hospital wing when he has a flare up, and who always knows to ask the caretaker for a spare blanket at the start of every term because he knows Remus is always cold but would never dare ask himself. And God, just why does it have to be Sirius!

Strangely enough, it’s Sirius who answers the question in a non direct sort of way at the end of their fourth year when Remus asks him why he broke up with Isidora so publicly and a bit callously while they’re sitting on the balcony of the astronomy tower, trading their flask of gin that Sirius snuck away from his parent’s house over easter, staring down at the grounds and the lake and it’s a beautiful night, and Remus only sorta feels it how his heart twists while Sirius sits so close. And once the question spills out his lips, Sirius peers down at him in a very subdued, very weighty sort of way and he simply says, “she’s not you Moons.”

And it’s like Remus’s heart just freezes, refuses to continue beating with the shock, with the somber words spoken without an ounce of humor. And part of him is just waiting for the joke, for the other shoe to drop. He’s just  waiting for the overdone hand to his chest, and lips pretending to pucker for a smooch. He’s waiting for the ground to return but Sirius doesn’t move, and maybe this means that this is real, that it isn’t just in Remus’s head. so all he says is a simple, “oh” and the next thing he knows is that Sirius kisses him right then and there, and it’s beginning to shower from above,  and the kiss is a bit hard for his liking— more teeth than lips and a tongue that slips in with fervor— but Remus wouldn’t stop it for all the money in the world. Wouldn’t ever let go of his grip on Sirius’s broad shoulders, or move away from where Sirius’s arms are snaking around his narrow waste. Would pay anything just to constantly feel the weight of Sirius over him like this for forever.

He doesn’t know for how long they lied their in the pouring rain, just exchanging slow, lingering snogs, and tender touches that feel like a thousand flames. But Remus probably should’ve expected that the next morning, while they’re all preparing to board the train, Sirius doesn’t catch his eye or ever really speak to him. And that’s fine. Remus has been questioning his sexuality for a while now. Maybe Sirius is just confused or just nervous because they’ve been friends for so long. So he doesn’t mind. Ends up splitting his time on the train with the boys and with Lily and it’s all alright. When he gets home, he types Sirius a letter explaining to him that it’s fine, that they can take things slow, that they don’t have to call it anything yet, and he toys with that patch on his neck that’s still purple from Sirius’s mouth and he’s actually elated with the idea of it.

Sirius doesn’t answer the email

And he doesn’t answer the one after that either, or the ones that follow. And Remus eventually takes the hint when he gets a email from Peter who’s holidaying in France and asks Remus how hard he laughed from Sirius’s story about how he nearly pulled the mum of the latest London bird he’s shagging that he wrote them about. And Remus is equal parts embarrassed and self rebuking. Because he’s such an idiot, Sirius was probably annoyed from his constant emails like he’s some jilted ex lover, like the girls he pulls along. And Remus is really a fucking idiot. So he rings Lily and they meet at a pub that’s equidistant from both of them, and he didn’t have to tell her what happened because she’s really just a genius, so they drink the night away and he swears off love and she swears to kick James in the Bollocks at least once this year, and it’s the first time all summer Remus laughed.

By the time they got to fifth year, Remus had ranted enough to Lily that he was over it— well erm, mostly at least. It still hurt like nothing else when he first spotted Sirius on the train, looking taller and leaner and tanner and just sexier as all get out. ANd it makes something ugly twist in his gut, laughing at himself over thinking  that a practical demigod would be interested in someone who prefers books to most people and who has to wear charity shop clothes when he’s not in his school uniform and just— He’s an idiot. So when Sirius steps into the cart with Remus, James and Peter, and his look of contrition tosses to Remus  a beat passes. And  it’s quickly willed away when Remus just smiles warmly, tries to silently tell him not to worry about it, and asks out loud if he’d like a chocolate frog.

And it’s normal, it’s fine, the first weeks of term are typical as ever for the boys. They commit pranks on the creepy wankers like Snape and Avery. And they laugh at James’s latest failed attempt to woo Lily. And they spend all nighters in the library and celebrate with pickup games of footie. And it’s pretty bloody brilliant, but then Sirius’s birthday hits, and they plan a surprise for him on the astronomy tower in the middle of the night, filled with food and drinks  and friends. ANd Remus gets the key as prefect, and Peter sneaks in the booze with his free afternoon off and James make sure that everyone they like is there to celebrate the greatest git they all know. And Sirius is so, so happy when he sees it. Wich of course he is, Remus knows how difficult his parents are, how lonely he can get over the breaks without the lads. So he’s so, so happy to see that look of mirth twinkling in Sirius’s pale eyes, and he does everything he can to make it so Sirius is laughing all night long.

But towards the end, no matter how much he wants to make it the best night for Sirius, he just has to get away from the sight of Sirius dancing obscenely with Florence Whittemore. Because he doesn’t have to be a damn martyr. 

He goes to a private nook on the rooftop, and pulls out the pre-rolled spliff to light up, only sorta surprised when Sirius makes his way to him— far away from the crowd and away from the music. And he plops down on the step right  under his, obviously loaded and smiling like the sun, crooning “Moony,” over and over again and Remus can only dimple down  indulgently at him, carding his hand through Sirius’s hair gently, spurred on by the drinks and the weed and just by that quiet, unassuming love he has held for him like a torch all these years.

“Did you wear my favorite sweater on purpose?” Sirius asks, a bit slurred, tilting his head so it rests on Remus’s shoulder and he can feel the tendrils of his warm breath brushing against his neck, and Remus suddenly feels like he’s on fire again. 

And he looks down at the green sweater he’s got on, a gift from his Mam for his fifteenth last year and the one that he was wearing the first night Sirius kissed him. So, yeah maybe Remus wore it subconsciously precisely because of that. But he’d never tell him.

And neither of them could say who leaned forward first, but they were kissing again and it still feels like everything splendid and like Remus’s mind is melting right out of his head and it’s so fucking miraculous.

But then they hear a coughing and they spring apart in panic, only to meet Lily’s shrewd, green eyes and she’s glaring at Sirius like she could scorch a whole right through him. And she tells them that there’s a Filch sighting and they need to get to the dorms pronto. 

Sirius scrambles up, looking at them panicky like he doesn’t know what to say, but then Remus tells him to hurry along because he and Lily—as Prefects— are the only ones who won’t get in trouble for being out. And Sirius looks at Remus like there’s a thousand things he’d like to say, but nods soberly and sprints away, and Remus is objected to Lily’s silent, judgmental worrying for their entire track back downstairs.

Remus isn’t surprised when Sirius tells them all that he’s dating Florence now over breakfast, and Peter gazes at him in aw at pulling the fittest girl in their year, and James claps his back hardily and talks about the double dates they can go on now since he’s still dating Jeanette. As if James isn’t glancing back at Lily even as he’s speaking it, and as if Sirius isn’t peering over apologetically to Remus as if there was ever anything between them.

However, what does surprise Remus is when late that night, Sirius pads over to his bed in the middle of the night like they haven’t done since they were both 14, and they’re lying down, not looking at each other before Sirius kisses him again and Remus lets himself enjoy it, let himself melt into him. But then he remembers the pretty blonde girl who he’s actually dating and it hurts like nothing else when he tells him the next night when Sirius makes the same track to his bed that they can’t do anything because they’re going to ruin their friendship and he has a girlfriend and Remus just can’t. So Sirius nods, tells him he’s always been the best of them, and kisses his forehead before returning to his own bed. And Remus silently refutes the comment because he hates not letting himself even get the scraps.

So Sirius dates Florence for the next month or so, and Remus puts up with it because of course he does. Because if it’s Sirius’s friendship or nothing at all, he’d always pick the former. Would always want Sirius to be with him in anyway possible. But then over winter break he officially runaways from his barmy ancestral home and goes off to James’s house in the countryside. And he texts Remus, begging him to come visit for New Year’s Eve. So Remus does, even gets Lily to tag along.

And once they get there, Sirius just smacks a big one on him in front of literally a whole house of people— including James and James’s Parents and all the Potters’ friends— and he tells him that he loves him and that he doesn’t want to pretend they’re only friends anymore, and Remus is blushing and grinning, and he thinks that Sirius is the maddest bloke he knows and he loves him to.

And it’s good between them, it’s remarkable. Sirius is passionate about every aspect in his life so it’s no surprise how remarkable of a boyfriend he is, how his every splendid gesture is large and vivacious and vibrant in ways Remus can’t even describe.

But the thing is that Remus is just simply not like that, has never been loud or commanding a presence. When he’s the leader of something like a prank execution or a school project, he prefers to get input from the others, make them think they did an equal amount of work even if Remus was the one behind it all. He’s always been reserved, quiet. And it’s not that he’s shy, it’s just he doesn’t ever see a reason to make a big show out of everything. And Sirius has known him for over half a decade now, so Remus assumes that he gets it.

But then it’s apparent that sometimes he doesn’t think that Remus loves him as much— which is so bloody bonkers Remus can’t even fathom it. or he thinks that Remus is just going with the motions, dating Sirius just because Sirius asked him too. And that gets Remus mad, absolutely fucking furious. The idea that Sirius can doubt his emotions like that.

“Get your cocky head out your arse and think about how not everyone has to be as ruddy loud as you are.” Remus had yelled one night in the common room in early February when Sirius tried giving him a ridiculous teddy bear holding a heart as if he’s an actual sodding bird and he refused it and Sirius got tetchy. But then Sirius had laughed like the mad man he is and then snogged him within an inch of his life and Remus thinks he got his point across.

Their one, really huge blow out, is on Remus’s birthday when he gets to his birthday dinner with his parents who came up to celebrate. And Sirius was visibly, painfully drunk and he spluttered the whole three hours and Remus was secretly thankful that his parents only thought he was a friend and not his sodding boyfriend and by the time they got to the dorm Remus had shouted, really fucking shouted at him. Had screamed things that he would regret just as soon as they came out. But it was ridiculous and Sirius could be such an arse sometimes. And Sirius had yelled back about how fucking stuffy Remus is about everything and claiming that they didn’t even notice and who the fuck cares. And Remus was shaking so hard, grabbed his pillow and blankets to sleep in the common room instead.

But of course, he knew that Sirius would follow him, that Sirius always prodded whenever Remus wanted to just runaway, that he could never leave well enough alone. And they argue again but it quickly became them rutting up against each other in the middle of the night, atop the sofa where anyone could walk down an catch them an Remus didn’t care, just needed to feel Sirius, feel him all over.

Remus only found out the next day by a red faced and quiet Sirius that he was nervous, that he didn’t mean to get so sloshed but he’s already failed with his parents and he didn’t want Remus’s to know how much of a fucking screw up he is and Remus just kissed him gently and called him an idiot and they never spoke about it again.

A few weeks later, Sirius goes off to holiday with the Potters on the Moroccan coast and Remus was only sorta jealous, but he understood that Sirius has always starved for a family, a real family, and that this is good for him. And the Potters are lovely people, and nearly as wealthy as the Blacks— well erm, as close as can be possible for ordinary folks. And James is Sirius’s brother in all but blood. Of course Sirius wouldn’t want to spend the week in Remus’s sleepy hometown with his bookish father and somewhat smothering Mam. But then he gets a call at two in the morning— so three in the morning by them— and It’s a pissed Sirius screaming into the phone over the music of some club and Remus hears a girl’s voice crowing his name and he hangs up in the middle fo Sirius trying to tell him some story about a boat or llama or what the fuck ever. And then Sirius storms to their shared dormitory when they all got back, yelling at Remus for not answering his calls for the rest of the week, and then Remus screamed back that he didn’t want to keep him from his haram of girls. And Sirius snarled out that he didn’t kiss or even bloody flirt with any of them and that Remus needs to start trusting him or pull that stick out his ass. And Remus was just so taken aback he had no idea what to say, so he just shook his head, discarded words and pounced on him for them to snog instead— James and Peter rolling their eyes as they slowly exited the room.

And there entire relationship is a bit like that, firecrackers that simmer to something tender because their foundation has always been the purest, most important friendship and even though the sex is fucking miraculous and mind-blowing and maddeningly delicious, they’ll always be friends. 

So that’s why Remus gets so angry that Sirius is acting so blasé when Snape finds out about them and threatens to tell the whole school. “It’s not a big deal Moons, practically everyone who isn’t an idiot already knows.”

And Remus swears he saw red, felt his blood pressure pulse. “Well my parents don’t know, and I’d rather be the one to tell them instead of them hearing it from the gossip mill from one of the other students parents!”

And Sirius’s expression got very stoney right then, his shoulders drawn back and brows furrowed. “So what? You’re ashamed that you’re dating a bloke? Or a bloke who’s own parents didn’t want him?”

And Remus is so fucking gobsmacked, so disbelieving that this is still such a point of sensitivity for him. That he still isn’t quite comprehensive just how much and how thoroughly and how desperately Remus loves him, and all that comes out is “You’re a bloody pillock.” And Sirius doesn’t give him enough time to explain himself and before he knows it they’re on the train home and Sirius isn’t even talking to him and he’s home in Wales once more.

He tries messaging Sirius all summer long, tries explaining himself. He even tells his parents that he’s as gay as the day is long, and they were so supportive that it gave him hope. But then Remus goes to Lily’s house one night for a movie, and her phone pins with a snap notification from James, and she tells him to open it for her while she tries pulling out the biscuits from the oven, and Remus Sees a dorky looking James, a London night club’s logo on the bottom of the filter and it’s all innocent until he really looks and he sees Sirius— clear as day, and he’s kissing another bloke. A blonde, good looking bloke that Remus could never be and one that Sirius deserves. And he feels so empty, so exhausted, so tired of it all as he numbly hands it over to a anxious looking Lily.

And Remus decides right then that he and Sirius really need to end this. 

They need to cut all the strings of this ill-fated romance, because they’re both too volatile and too sporadic. They can’t risk their friendship over this. Remus can’t lose Sirius just because Remus never deserved him as a boyfriend.

So when they get back to classes for their sixth year, Remus pretends nothing had ever happened between them.

He acts cordial, and companionable and like the friend he was to Sirius before he let his bloody emotions get in the way. And Sirius is suspicious but cautious and sometimes he looks like he does when he wanted to kiss him, so Remus would have to race off and he’d stay out late as possible in the library so to get back to their room after they’ve all fallen asleep. And he’s thankful he does the one time he finds that Sirius had ended up falling asleep in Remus’s bed while waiting up for him.

On one of those nights out to the library he begins speaking with Ezra.

Ezra is a prefect also, and he’s a year above them in classes so he gladly helps Remus with the questions he has for the course work. He’s extremely handsome, and Remus doesn’t feel so guilty when he recognizes the fact. He’s got brown hair numerous shades darker from Remus’s tawny color, and he’s got very lovely green eyes and he smiles at Remus shyly. So it’s not a surprise when he kisses him softly for the first time in early October, and it’s nice. It’s not fire licking up his insides like Sirius’s kisses are, but it’s sweet. And he’s sweet. 

They go out on casual dates to the city on allotted weekends and they drink coco by the fire. He tells Remus about growing up right outside Edinburgh and Remus tells him about the sea glass his Mam taught him to find by the ocean, and his collection of shells and his favorite peer to watch the sunset and Ezra listens like he is so very interested. And They’re a quiet pair, even the first time he gives Remus a blow job behind the greenhouses. And it’s good, because it’s fucking sex of course its good. But he doesn’t know how to use his tongue like Sirius learned how, or how to squeeze just a bit too tightly around his shaft when he’s lapping the head. But it’s not Ezra’s fault. Sirius and Remus had plenty of practice, the one thing they did more than laugh or argue was fuck. And that’s because it was always fun, always good. They stumbled through it together and learned what they liked and what they didn’t and how amazing it felt whenever they were intwined like that— When Sirius was on top of him, underneath him, deep inside of him and all around him.

But that’s not a fair comparison. Sirius has always excelled in everything, has always been a supernova. And Remus needs to learn how to be his friend again, and stop remembering all those times between the sheets or hidden behind the greenhouses or sometimes even in closets between classes.

And they’re getting there. Sirius has stopped trying to wait up for him, and he laughs at his jokes easily again. He doesn’t touch Remus, not really, not ever. And he looks like a flicker has been blown out behind his disarmingly handsome face, but they’re getting closer.

And Ezra is great, Ezra is so amazing. He’s sweet and he texts Remus a good night and good morning message every day. He walks him to class and they kiss softly goodbye. He buys Remus cherry filled brownies even tho that’s possibly the one type of chocolate he doesn’t like. But he eats them anyways because he knows they’re expensive. And he steadfastly ignores the box of his favorite caramel ones that are left on his bed the morning after Ezra got them for him.

And when Ezra comes over their house for Christmas he’s perfect in front of his parents. He complements the dinner Lyall made and how lovely Hope’s necklace is. And he gets along seamlessly with Lily when they met up nearly every night to go out to the tree in the center of her hometown or ice skating or to take pictures by the lights.

But when he leaves, Remus just feels empty. He stays up all night thinking about it, about why he can’t love Ezra the way he loved— the way he’s always loved and continues to love Sirius. How he will forever love Sirius. And he ends up cursing Sirius’s name a thousand times over throughout  the span of one night.

And it’s back to the start of the story with Remus and Lily lounging in his living room and looking at the photo and Remus feels his eyes watering and Lily kissing his cheek while silently handing him his phone.

They exchange a smile.

And Remus decides he’ll talk to Ezra in person, explain how he’s a great guy and how lucky Remus was to be with him. But now— well now he needs to slide open his phone because he can hardly breathe anymore.

And when he hears Sirius’s familiar, golden baritone answering tentatively, “Hiya Moons.”

And Remus swallows down the emotion in his throat, and he just loves him so much.

“Can you drive up here? Preferably not with the bike.”

“James’s Dad left us his car.” Sirius retorts, and Remus can hear the smile in his voice. “But, are you sure?”

And Remus wants to scream it to the clouds and the ocean and the mountain tops that of course he is, that this— the emotions he has for Sirius, the way he loves him— is the one sure thing in his life.

“I love you Pads.”

A silence beats between them before he hears Sirius answer back, buoyant and vivid and so much him that it aches.

“I love you to Moony. I love you so much.”

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #HEADCANONS #HEADCANONS BY LEN #SPILT INK #this is so fucking long #holy shite #i'm sorry Nonny #!!!

[behindheremeraldeyes]

title: the next step is love

summary: Modern AU - It’s Sakura’s birthday, and after the party, she’s left to take care of the mess of dirty plates and glasses. Luckily, she’s not alone, but he can’t really stay forever, right?

a/n: Okay, this story was supposed to have come out way earlier, but I changed the plot so many times that I just couldn’t finish it for her birthday... The original idea was so different, and perhaps, I end up writing it another time when the inspiration strikes again (seriously, it was a nice one). Anyway, I hope you can still enjoy this one! As always, my fluff side took over me and I just had to make something simple and domestic for the Queen’s bday! Hope you enjoy it, and please, let me know what you think! (also, this is un-betta’d. I wanted to post this asap because I’m working on a different project, so... bear with me)

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“Thank you for coming! ‘Careful on your way home!”

The sound of the door clicking shut reverberates across her entire apartment, and it only takes one second for that smiley expression to fade from her face. Her right hand is still placed over the door-knob, and for a brief moment, she closes her eyes, letting out a deep sigh in pure contentment. The last guests are finally on their merry way home now, and at last, she can stop worrying about things such as making sure no one’s feeling left out or re-filling toilet paper. Even if they’re all good friends, her perfectionist mind can’t simply allow her to enjoy the night without worrying about those details.

After turning the key, her hand moves to massage the back of her neck, and finally, she sets her toes free from her black heels. A mix of relief and calmness spreads all over her body, as a soft smile takes over her cherry-colored lips. This, perhaps, might be her favorite part of her birthday parties— or any party, for the matter— because, right now, she can finally savor all the things she's prepared for the night. The food, the decoration, the soothing music...

Oh, what a dream, she thinks, at first, before looking around with her lazy eyes and frowning at the scene. If only all of that mess could magically disappear by the time she wakes up tomorrow morning.

A sigh escapes her lungs as she makes her way back to the center of the hurricane that is her living room. Just like last year, she starts wondering why on earth she let Ino convince her to host her own birthday party instead of going out for a couple of drinks like most people do. Though the pinkette really enjoys having her friends over for a couple of hours, she can’t deny that the day after March 28th is probably the most tiring of the year. Sakura knows she's barely gonna get any sleep tonight, and by the time her alarm goes off around 5:30, she will certainly need at least 1 liter of coffee in order to go through her shift without falling asleep.

In theory, she could leave all that mess for tomorrow, sure, but thanks to her cleaning compulsion, that’s not really an option for her.

If only she could be a little more like Naruto...

Still, as she shakes her pink head, Sakura decides there’s no use in thinking about it tonight. That’s a problem for her future-self, and even if she’s probably going to regret that decision in the morning, right now, this is her moment. She can drink a full glass of champagne while eating another piece of her strawberry cake, and the best part is that she can do it all while enjoying the company of the only one whose presence will never be a bother to her.

Once she finally reaches her kitchen, the pinkette is fast to register the dirty dishes laying around the counter. There are way more glasses than the number of people she invited for the party, but for a brief moment, she forgets that she’s the owner of that mess. Her emerald eyes automatically drift towards the sink, and her heart skips a beat at the scene playing in front of her.

Not even in her wildest, teenage-ish dreams would she have ever pictured Uchiha Sasuke doing her dishes after her birthday party. Though she knows she’s the one who’s technically responsible for all of that, it’s inevitable for her to be entertained by how focused he seems to be while attempting to remove that lipstick stain from the cup.

How lovely, she ponders, bitting her lower lip in order to suppress a chuckle.

Too bad she can’t just keep watching him for the rest of the night.

“You know, even if I appreciate both your help and the view, you don’t have to do this, Sasuke-kun.” Sakura says, picking up some of the plates laying around and walking towards the sink. She’s standing by his side now, his tall body towering over hers, almost a head taller. The expression decorating his features remains unaltered, and she notices how he slowly moves to give her some space next to him. “You can go rest, if you want.”

“Do you want me to go leave?” He asks, unaltered, while scrubbing another knife.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She answers, grabbing a piece of cloth to dry the cutlery he has already washed. “I just don’t want you to do something you don’t want just because it’s my birthday or anything like that. It’s fine, really. I can do it alone.”

“Hn, It’s faster if we do it together.” He stops, a sly smirk taking over the corner of his lips as he closes the tap. His eyes are on hers, now, and she can feel her chest warming up in response. “Unless you wanna do it all by yourself.”

“Nope.” She says, promptly, handing him another dirty spoon and he’s quick to resume what he was doing. Her eyes watch the way the water runs through his fingers, and oddly, she can’t help but find that amusing. “If you’re willing to help, who am I to say no, right?”

A giggle escapes her lips when she hears the ‘tch’ that escaped from his lips, and eventually, they fall in a comfortable silence that is only disturbed by the clanking of the dishes touching each other. Every now and then, their fingers brush when he hands her the plates, and though she can still feel the sparks, those simple touches are no longer enough to make her blush in embarrassment as they used to.

His touch is no longer a stranger to her skin. His presence and his warmth have long been registered by her subconscious, marking every cell of her body with his constant presence. It’s been over 5 springs since their childish love finally bloomed into a serious relationship, and by now, both Sasuke and Sakura have grown used to one another. It goes beyond carnal desires or any poor excuse for a casual company, for their hearts share a connection deeper than words could ever describe.

Blame it on the fact that they used to be good friends before or even fate itself, but it’s impossible to deny the fact that they’ve reached the apex of their young love-life, to the point where doing the dishes together feels wholesome in ways neither of them can explain. There’s a sense of domesticity and mutual understanding shared in between unspoken words, and perhaps, that’s why it works so well for them as a couple. Even if they’re very different people, with different routines and personalities, they make it work.

They have enough trust, love and companionship to last for a life-time.

And though that should be enough—hell, that should be more than enough— Sakura can’t help but feel that there’s still something missing.

Something she can’t quite pin-point, but something that makes perfect moments lose their magic, for she knows they just won’t last. Even now, as they’re doing the dishes and making small conversation about how the party went, deep inside, her heart is heavy because she knows that once those dishes are clean, it will all be over and she will be left alone in her apartment before midnight strikes.

No matter how hard she tries, their moments together have their life-spawn shortened by the common laws of the universe, for every time there’s that stupid parting moment in which they both have to go separate ways. It’s painful for her to watch him disappear in the distance, and even if he doesn’t really express it with words, she can see the light in his eyes fading whenever they have to say goodbye. It’s always a new ‘good night’ and never a constant ‘good morning’ for them, and after so long, she’s sick and tired of this.

Perhaps, it’s just her tired-self speaking too loud in her head or even the few drinks she had during the party, but tonight, she doesn’t want the world to stand between them. Tonight, Sakura will break the natural laws, not caring about the consequences of finally taking the next step.

It’s still her birthday, after all. That has to count for something.

Her heart is beating faster now that she has made up her mind, and she realizes that she’s shaking when she picks another fork from his hands. She’s swallowing dry, and if not for the make up in her face, she knows he would be able to see a crimson blush decorating her cheeks. It’s now or never, she thinks. And before she has the chance to talk herself out of it, Haruno Sakura decides to act.

“Uhm... Sasuke-kun.” She starts, her voice shaky as his name slips from her tongue. Clearly, she forgot to think about the proper way of actually saying what she wanted, choosing instead to improvise— something she’s never really been good at. “I was thinking... Why don’t you spend the night here? You don’t have to go home after this.”

“Don’t even think about going to sleep, Sakura. You’re not leaving all of this mess to me.”

“Oi, that’s not what I meant!” She scolded him, a pout taking over her expression. “Shannarou, I just don’t want you to go home all alone at such late hours. Besides, is it wrong for a girl to want to stay with her boyfriend for the night?”

“You pervert.” He smirks, earning an elbow to his ribs in response. For someone so small, it’s undeniable that his girlfriend has some sort of abnormal strength people like her shouldn’t possess.

“Shut up. That’s not what I meant either! I just... I just don’t want you to leave, that’s all.”

Her words come out a little too low, but high enough so that he can hear them. Her voice sounded an octave too-melancholic, and perhaps, that was what made him actually take her offer seriously. “Hn, I guess I could. I don’t have to work tomorrow, so I can go home once when you leave for the hospital.”

“Really?” Sakura starts, a smile now threatening to take over her features. Though she still had to convey her real plan, that was already a win. A small one, but a win, nonetheless. “Well, you don’t have to leave that early if you don’t want to. You can just...stay. Maybe even wait for me to get home from the hospital and then we could eat dinner together.”

“What?” His eyes widen at her idea, and right now, she can’t really tell if his surprised expression is good or bad. “Aren’t you going to stay there until late tomorrow?”

“Well, probably, but you can stay here... is that a problem?”

”It’s not really a problem, but... I just don’t want to abuse your hospitality. It’s still your apartment, Sakura.” He scratches the back of his neck, and she could see that he was truly concerned about his manners. His mother has taught him how to be a gentleman, and even if she loves that about him, right now, she wishes he could let loose and just take her offer.

She bites her lower lip at his words, a puff of annoyance inflating her cheeks at his answer. Her boyfriend’s has never been good at reading her signs, and now, when not even she’s understanding them, the pinkette is starting to freak out.

Things are not going as planned— not that she actually planned anything to begin with. Her head is spiraling as she watches the snow-ball being created by her messy words, and slowly, she can feel her chance slipping through her fingers. If she doesn’t say it now, Sakura’s going to miss her opportunity, and who knows what’s going to happen to them. Will they break up? Will he think she’s not interested in a long-term commitment? Will they never do the dishes again?

No, she’s overthinking again. They have a solid relationship that has been built over the years and she’s not going to ruin it all in one night because she’s acting like a coward. She’s a modern, independent woman. A doctor, damn it. She has done a lot of things that were harder than asking her boyfriend to move in with her.

She can do it. She will do it.

“Sasuke-kun!” Her voice is determined now, her eyes filled with a different fire in them. This is it. No backing out now. “I need to ask you something important. It’s about our future together.”

“Okay... I’m listening.” He states, a little taken aback by her sudden burst. He stops what he’s doing, his dark irises now looking into her emerald ones. They’re holding a certain hope in them, and if anything, she was not expecting him to be paying that much attention to her. She’s feeling pressured by them, intimidated even. Her knees are shaking, her lips are trembling and her mind is suddenly blank.

She can’t do it. Nope. Not with those eyes staring into her soul.

“I-I... I...” Her heart is beating faster, and she feels like it will burst out of her chest any minute now. She’s going to faint, she can tell it.

“What is it, Sakura?”

“I-I...” She swallows, then, sighing as courage escapes her body. The pinkette has chickened out, finally opting for her ever-reliable plan B. “Naruto is an idiot, right?”

“... Yes.” He starts, his brows furrowing in confusion. “But what does that have to do with our future?”

“E-Everything! I mean, did you see how drunk he was tonight? Thank god Sai offered himself to take him home tonight, but we can rely on that forever. As his best friends, we have to do something about it. He lives far from both of us and we need a plan whenever we have a drinking night together.”

A moment of palpable tension grows between them, and right now, she’s sure he can hear her heart beating like crazy inside her chest. I’m an idiot, she thinks, holding back the urge to lower her head and cry. Sakura has just ruined everything, and right now, she’s going to have to pretend to actually care about where Naruto crashes when he’s drunk just so her boyfriend doesn’t think she’s completely crazy.

Ugh, those damn eyes of his. Why do they have to be so *freaking beautiful?

Thankfully, they can also read her like an open book.

“Hn, you’re right.” He says, finally breaking the silence that surrounded them. His voice is calm and understanding, as always, and she can feel her heart settling down at that. If anything, at least, his reaction isn’t bad or anything. “I guess we will have to have a spare room for him when we move in together.”

“Yeah, sure. A spare room when we—“ Her mind stops. Her hands freeze while holding the cloth and her green eyes widen. Her lips part slightly, but no word dares coming out of them.

Did he... Did he just say what she thinks he said?

She doesn’t know what kind of face she’s making right now, but if anything, she’s completely dumbfounded by his words. Sure, it’s not like he’s making a move tonight or anything, but he did say the words, right? Move in together. The three words she was trying so hard to get out of her chest, simply rolled out of his tongue as if it is the most logical thing in the world— and perhaps, it is. He says them in a way as if that decision won’t change their lives forever. As if it won’t affect their routine and the amount of food they have to buy at the grocery store.

It’s a decision that goes beyond a drawer filled with socks or an extra tooth-brush. And even if he sounds as calm as ever, she knows he’s aware of all that, because, if anything, Uchiha Sasuke doesn’t do anything based on impulse. He’s the kind of man who thinks things through and studies every possibility before making a decision.

So that means...

“Sasuke-kun... Are you suggesting that we move in together?”

���Aa.” He nods, no hesitation in his voice. “Weren’t you trying to say the same?”

“I-I... I was?” She says, sounding more like a question, to which he simply quirks an eyebrow in inquiry. If anything, that was not the moment for doubts anymore. “I mean, yes! That was exactly what I was trying to say.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

“Is it? Really?” She asks, hope now running through her veins and lighting up her entire system.

“Yes. It’s only natural for people like us, right?”

“Yeah...” He cheeks grow warmer, and her chest suddenly feels lighter. At last, he took the words out of her. “It’s settled, then.”

At last, their days of saying goodbye are counted and now they can enjoy each other from dawn to dusk.

A smile slowly makes its way to her eyes, and she can’t help but switch her attention to him. Sasuke is now looking at her, a soft expression taking over his face. She’s bewildered right now as she looks at the man who will be living with her. Totally and completely marveled, and more in love with him than she has ever been before in her life.

He understands her unsaid words and they share similar ideas regarding their past, present and future.

They are in love, and now, they’re ready to share the same roof above their pretty, little heads.

“You’re still staying with me tonight, right?”

“Tch.You really are a pervert, Sakura.”

He splashes her face with some water from the sink and her giggles fill her kitchen with joy. They’re young and in love, and for now, that’s all they need to take the next step towards their future together.

the end

#Sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #Sasusaku fanfic #sasusaku fic #myssfics