#HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU FUNNY FLAME MAN YOU DESERVE IT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nahoyagf · 3 years

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smoke { hanma x reader }

summary: you and hanma meet in the graveyard

warnings: mentions of death, grieving w comfort-ish, chapter 205 spoilers

the rain bounced off of your black, plastic umbrella. the cool air left kisses on your skin. the graveyard was your comfort place. it helped you think and you felt comfort in talking to the souls that reside there, whether they were listening or not. occasionally there would be a stray cat that would keep you company, but today, there was a man sitting by the headstone next to your fathers.

he was dressed in baggy clothes, loose jeans and a red hoodie that covered his head from your eyes. a stark contrast to your flowered yukata and zuri. the smell of cigarette smoke wafted towards your nose and you scrunched your face lightly. you had no problem with smoking, in fact your father was an avid smoker, but you found it disrespectful to smoke in a place of serenity.

you bent down, careful not to put your bum near the wet ground. your hand reached out to brush off the specks of dirt near the name on your fathers headstone.

loving father and husband.

your father summed up in four words. all of which were true. you’re mother, soon to be remarried, didn’t visit often. if ever. she’d come by for your fathers birthday, but she was so desperately trying to move on that she didn’t spend much time there. she’d say “happy birthday, my love” and then walk back home. it was probably what hurt the most about your fathers passing. the idea that you’d be living with a new father soon and the fear that you were the only one holding onto his memory.

the man seemed to notice your presence. he tilted his head towards yours slightly, as if he were listening to you. you couldn’t help but stare at the cigarette in his hand. it was the same brand your father smoked.

“want one?”, his voice was deep. slightly raspy but still filled with life and humor.

“no, i find it disrespectful to smoke in a graveyard.” your voice was curt. you didn’t like to talk with the patrons here. most didn’t want to talk as well, but this guy seemed rather chatty.

“i promised him that i would tell him this story and i think this story deserves a cigarette.” he laughed lightly, before turning to fully face you.

he had black hair with a blonde tuft right in the center. his eyes were tired and red, one might’ve been fooled to think that the redness was from the smoke but you knew post-cry eyes when you saw them. he was very handsome, but in a rough almost ragged way. you also noted the two tattoos that graced his large hands.

“can i have one?” you asked.

“i thought you said smoking was disrespectful?” he mocked.

“it’s for my father, i think he deserves a smoke.”

he seemed confused for a second before putting the pieces together. his eyes glanced towards the headstone.

loving father and husband.

“here, sweetheart.” he pulled out the cigarette, placing it in your much smaller hand. you began to realize how much bigger he was than you had originally thought.

you bowed your head slightly and smiled as you placed it down at the base of your fathers grave.

“popular guy?” he asked, gesturing towards the small pile of flowers placed at the grave.

“they’re all from me”, you couldn’t help but sigh. all relatives and friends had stopped visiting and moved on.

“ah, i see. no one visits kisaki either. most people think he’s better off dead,” he chuckles, “not that i disagree.”

you looked at the headstone. kisaki tetta. it only said his date of birth and death, there was nothing else. he was a young guy. your age, actually.

“what story did you tell him?”

he cracked his neck and leaned back onto the palms of his hands.

“it’s a long one. he wanted to know why i kept following him.”

“and why did you?”

he sighed. looking off into the distance, obvously not wanting to talk about it. you suddenly felt bad for crossing a boundary, assuming the conversation would end here.

“you promise your dad something?”

you stared at the slick, polished stone in front of you. other than a name, a date and four simple words, your father was just another person laid to rest here. he had a slow death, it was more a deterioration. day by day he looked less and less like your father. it got to the point that you could barely bring yourself to walk into that plain, white hospital room.

“no,” you looked over at him, “but he promised me something.”

he turned to look at you. smoke wafting up near his face.

“yeah?”

“he said he’d send someone for me, to be there for me.”

behind the smoke, you could almost see this expression of knowing. but it faded away sooner than it had come. he looked tranquil, the dimmed light from behind the dark clouds reflected ever so softly off his back. giving him a halo effect.

“i wish i had someone sent for me.”

“maybe you did.”

he laughed at that. the idea of kisaki sending someone to look after him was more than funny. he’d probably send some reincarnation of himself to keep hanma from moving on forever.

your hands picked up the cigarette on your father’s grave.

“can i have a light?” you asked, catching him by surprise.

he moved closer to you, close enough that his knee was touching yours. he tilted his head, staring at the cigarette placed between your soft lips. then lifted the lighter to it. there were two small clicks and then flame lit up. the smell of butane filling your nose. the heat from the lighter caused you to shiver and lean ever so slightly towards the man. he noticed this and chuckled.

“hold still, sweetheart.”

there was that nickname again. he said it like he was talking to a child. soft and gentle but teasing too. it came off his tongue and wrapped around you like a warm hug. it was comforting.

the first intake of the smoke was strong and you couldn’t help but cough. it stung slightly, but in the best way.

hanma stared at you. watching your expression as you got used to the cigarette. you smelt like flowers and silk. it was like a wave hitting a rock compared to his scent of smoke and cologne. he could almost hear kisaki teasing him, scoffing at him for being so quick to cling onto some stranger. was he really that desperate for friendship? for affection?

normally, no. but there was something about you. he couldn’t help but hope you were the one kisaki had sent for him.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #shuji hanma #hanma x reader #📁:general

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celestialarchiveshq · 3 years

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Dearest Daddy

Dearest Daddy series, consisting of the haikyuu characters in the fatherhood universe!

Homesick by @aomineavenue

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Tags: dad!Atsumu x mom!Reader, Atsumu doesn’t know, six years timeskip, twins, angst, fluff if you close your eyes (lmao)

“Those kids probably aren’t even mine.”

“You were the only man I’ve ever been with. The only man that I’ve ever wanted. The only man I’ve ever loved. It’s always been you.”

status: ongoing | series masterlist | taglist: closed

Stubborn by @aomineavenue

Summary: Ushijima Wakatoshi and Kegeyama F/N have been secretly seeking out pleasure from each other for at least a year and a half. However, Y/N finds herself growing tired of the arrangement after being constantly hurt by the man she had grown feelings for. However, despite ending things with each other, she finds herself in a pickle when two pink lines screamed right back at her.

Tags: dad!Ushijima x mom!Reader, pregnancy trials, timeskip! fluffy, angsty.

“Why do you even care?”

“Are you crazy? I’ve always cared. Baby or no baby. Have my actions towards you not been enough for you to understand that it isn’t just you who have feelings for the other? Do I really need to spell things out for you?”

status: coming soon | series masterlist | taglist: open

Playing House by @toorusushijima

Summary: A tragic accident brings two enemies together under one roof as sole guardians of their late best frien’s baby daughter. Will they survive together and find happiness through the bundle of joy in their lives? Or will their hatred for each other win over for the worst?

Tags: godfather!sakusa x godmother!reader, enemies to lovers??, angsty, fluffy.

“Why does it matter if I’m going out with someone?”

“Can’t you stop for a second and think what’s best for our child!”

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Scheming Monsters by @kaitycole

Summary: Two little friends have always desired one thing. To end up as siblings. So when the chance presented itself after a finalized divorce, who were they to decline such an opportunity to finally bring their parents together?

Tags: singledad!bokuto x singlemom!reader, divorced, friends to lovers?? all fluff, maybe a little angst if you use a magnifying glass.

"Shouldn't we just tell them we're dating?"

"No, it's funny to watch them think they're so slick."

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Brilliant Opportunities by @velvetfireworks

Summary: Divorced, single father Oikawa finds himself in a pickle when his ex wife comes barging back in his life demanding full custody over their son for her greedy needs, he seeks assistance from the woman he wished he had married in the first place.

Tags: divorced!oikawa, singledad!oikawa, best friends to lovers to ex lovers, reunion, fluffy, angsty.

"What do you say? Would you marry me?"

"Sure, I think I can squeeze you in this weekend. How does Saturday sound?"

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Bonding Bliss by @newfriendjen

Summary: Single parents Kita and L/N find spending more time with each other through their daughters' bonding play dates, not realizing their growing feelings for each other. But as sweet as it is, it's not always cupcakes and rainbows when people from the past return.

Tags: singledad!kita x singlemom!reader, fluffy fluffy cotton, angst :c

"I can't believe she had the audacity to come barging back into her life and think makeup would be perfect as a gift for a six years old!"

"Yeah, oh and I told her we were dating if that's okay."

"Oh that's fin—what?"

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Meddling by @shoyomeow

Summary: A tale of how Matsukawa’s little boy, his pride and joy, helps him find the love he truly deserves.

Tags: single!dadxMatsukawa, fluffy. Just fluff. That’s it.

"Uh, what are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? You texted me to come over."

Oh.

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Escape Plan by @hidden-otaku-stuff

Summary: Growing up in a traditional family always had its ups and downs. Arranged marriages was the very one of them that you dreaded ever since your contract had been presented to you at the age of eighteen. L/N F/N seeks help from an old flame as her 24th birthday fast approaches, wanting nothing more than to escape the wedding of the century the country had claimed.

Tags: traditional, rich family au! angst, crack fic, fluffy soft boy tendou here and there.

"I mean, yeah sure. I've always wanted to be a dad."

"That's great! How about putting a bun in my oven?"

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Replica by @daifwukus

Summary: To get back at her cheating boyfriend, L/N F/N finds herself a man during a party in her college years. Never had she expected that she would have fallen pregnant over it. Things only get complicated a few years later when the man she despises comes barging back in her life demanding why her son looked exactly like him.

Tags: college party, enemies to parents?? crack fic, lil bit of fluff if you squint, angst.

"Care to explain why that little toddler in your arms looks exactly like me when I was younger?"

"What crack are you on and where can I get some?"

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Wishing Upon A Star by @keijikunn

Summary: Calling him daddy was something your daughter had wished upon a falling star one night ever since you had introduced him as your boyfriend. The three of you finally find the right pace on becoming a happy family that your daughter dreamed of, but what happens when the man that had wanted nothing to do with you and your daughter returns?

Tags: singlemom!reader, angst, angst, ANGST. Only a little bit of fluff.

“Did you catch what she called me? She really said it!”

“Yeah, I did. She’s been wanting to call you daddy for the longest time.”

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

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toasterdrake · 3 years

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Happy 1500th

Thor Odinson x gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None, no swearing

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: It's Thor's birthday, so of course [Y/N] and the Avengers celebrate!

A/N: Coincidentally writing and posting this a day before my own birthday lmao. Very cathartic nevertheless. There's no concrete age for marvel's Thor that I could find so '1500' isn't specific, nor is the time this is set. Anyway,, this man deserves happiness. I think he would be an awesome friend so this was written with platonic intent, but feel free to read it as romantic :).

(Gif not mine)

🎂🎂🎂

Thor groaned loud enough to drown out F.R.I.D.A.Y's call. He turned his face into a pillow, sluggishly rolling over and squeezing it between his biceps.

"Mr. Odinson, Mx. [Y/N] requests your presence in the kitchen." The A.I reiterated.

At the mention of his floormate, electric blue eyes flew open. He scrambled up, throwing off his blanket with a dramatic flourish. He rushed to pull on a shirt, but his haste only hindered him; the shirt got stuck over his head.

Eventually succeeding in yanking it down, he combed through his hair briefly to appear somewhat presentable, before sprinting out the door.

Thor arrived in the kitchen at top speed, skidding to a clumsy halt just before an imminent crash. "My good Noble [Y/N]!" He boomed, arms spread wide in greeting.

You laughed openly, stepping into the god's embrace -- and quickly regretting it as your ribs screamed in pain. Luckily, you were soon released. Gasping, you steered Thor to sit down at the breakfast bar.

"I have something for you," You began, shushing Thor before he could demand to receive it, "But we have to wait until others get here first."

Thor pouted, making full use of his puppy eyes. Just as you were about to reprimand the god for his manipulation tactics, the other Avengers materialised.

"Sorry we're late," Clint said, directing a glare at Tony, "Someone thought it would be funny to press every button in the elevator."

"And it wasn't even me this time." Loki chimed in with his signature grin.

"I regret nothing."

"Brother!" Thor cheered, getting up to envelope the leaner god in a bear hug, "I didn't expect you to be here!"

"Psh, I would never forget my dear brother's birthday!" Loki said, wriggling free with a less sincere smile. Given their history, that didn't exactly hold true.

Thor frowned. "But often you are not in attendance."

He seemed more confused than anything, so the situation could still be salvaged. Loki looked to you for help, only to receive tightly crossed arms and a scathing glare carrying a crystal clear message: don't ruin his mood or you'll pay.

Loki chuckled stiffly. "Well, perhaps I've sometimes been too busy to attend in person, but I've never actually forgotten; and I've left you gifts when I can."

At that, Thor brightened. "You mean the snake at my 1400th--"

"--Was from me, yes."

Seeming appeased, Thor dropped the topic and instead looked for his friends. They smiled encouragingly at him, guiding him to sit at the table and gathering around as you dimmed the lights.

You produced a lighter, delicately using it on something Thor couldn't see from his current position. Smiling softly, you carried this mysterious thing over to the table.

When it came into view, Thor gasped, starstruck. It was a cake. Not just any cake, but a cake bordered by poptarts, in addition to a dusting of poptarts. Bigger shards of poptarts protruded from the thick frosting. Two large candles were shaped to form '1 5' and sparked gently.

The god of thunder gaped, speechless, as you set the cake down on a platter in front of him. Steve squeezed his shoulder encouragingly. "Go on, make a wish."

He closed his eyes, thought for a moment, and then blew out the flames with a radiant smile.

Everyone cheered, crying 'Happy birthday!' entirely out of sync -- but the winsome spirit was there in full force so it didn't matter. Tears sprung to Thor's eyes as his family hugged him in an uncoordinated pile. He would miss these adorable mortals.

It didn't take long for the entire cake to be devoured by ravenous superheroes, so they swiftly moved on to presents.

Natasha gifted Thor a box of pristine limited edition poptarts that had stopped being produced before the god first came to Midgard. When asked how she acquired them, she only smiled.

Clint gave him a shawarma restaurant coupon, handed over and received with much reverence, as well as a giant fluffy blanket-slash-hoodie that even the god was swamped in. As a very tactile person, Thor adored it, revelling in the silky softness. ("It feels like being hugged by a cloud!")

Tony proudly presented a new piece of armour constructed out of vibranium, answering the question of his latest passion project.

Sam generously offered a flying race, complete with Redwing's use as a speed camera. Thor eagerly took him up on it. Sam came away grumbling about needing upgrades. (If asked, he insisted on purposely allowing Thor to win since it was his birthday.)

Wanda claimed the cake as half a gift since she helped bake it, but also gave him a friendship bracelet that matched her collection.

Loki gave his brother a typical toolbox hammer sharpened to have a dagger's end and an axe's end. Also, a speech about how love is an imaginary dagger. Or something -- the metaphor didn't work quite seamlessly.

Steve and Bucky teamed up to get an alcoholic drink mixed for him -- graciously named Thor's Hammer. It had Asgardian mead incorporated, so it was capable of getting both the gods and the super soldiers drunk. As they dutifully tested.

When the time came for you to present your gift, Thor cried.

It was a snowglobe: as big as his fist and set on a base of gold, which was engraved with Nordic runes that translated roughly to 'sky hearth'. Inside the globe, flecks of white tumbled, settling feather-light on gilded arches of Asgard's architecture. A miniature version of the palace and the rainbow bridge housed tiny figurines of Thor, Odin, Frigga, Loki and Valkyrie, among others; who all danced together in the courtyard. The Thor figurine held a mini Mjolnir high with a triumphant grin.

The flesh-and-blood Thor cradled it close to his chest, once again struck speechless, overcome by affection.

"Valkyrie helped me make it," You murmured, for your friend's ears only, "A little slice of home while you're on Midgard."

At that, Thor broke. He grabbed you by the shoulder, pulling you in close for a hug as he sobbed openly. The snowglobe was squished between you both, clutched tight by the god as if he intended to never release it.

"You're the best friend a god could ask for, Noble [Y/N]," Thor blubbered, chin quivering and eyes blurry. Your fingers carded soothingly through his hair.

Once the god of thunder had calmed down -- and carefully set his gifts in a safe place -- everyone gathered in the common room to play games. The sun was just starting to sink beyond the horizonscape of New York. Swirls of deep orange and purple cast the room in a soft violet glow, thanks to the giant windows that overlooked the city of lights.

It was at this time that Valkyrie and Carol dropped by bearing gifts of their own for their favourite Asgardian. (Well, Valkyrie's favourite Asgardian.) They had been off-world, but arrived at Earth as fast as they could for his special day. They also brought along Thor's favourite Asgardian board game. The mortals of the group found it hard to grasp at first, but eventually got the hang of it.

After Sam's fifth round of rousing defeat, he insisted they play something else, so an impromptu Mario Kart tournament kicked off.

Carol and Valkyrie were quickly eliminated, tired from their long mission, so gratefully retired to the guest bedrooms that Tony provided. Thor bid them goodnight wistfully. He hadn't stopped smiling all day, and that wasn't about to stop now. The tournament continued passionately deep into the night -- alliances and enemies forged and broken in heartache.

Thor went to sleep with a giant grin.

It lingered through breakfast the next morning; when he gave his floormate another hug in his cloud hoodie, not releasing you until the pancakes were cooked.

🎂🎂🎂

love,

bi-rd ☕

#mcu #thor odinson #marvel thor #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x gn!reader #thor odinson x you #platonic thor odinson x reader #lynx writes

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notnctu · 4 years

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love me like you do | x.dj ❀

❀ xiao dejun x reader ❀ genre - pure lovely fluff ❀ details - two friends in love with each other, college!au, genderneutral!reader ❀ word count - 1.3k ❀ warnings - swearing, pg kissing ❀ brief synopsis - every kiss begins with a k, but sometimes x marks the spot.

❀ a/n: im just here to wish this baby dinosaur a happy birthday! he’s also legal now and tho wayv hasnt hit the states yet,, he best get turnt when they do hehe. jokes aside, he’s the cutest baby boy & deserves so many kisses! this is based off of up from here by wayv which is my fav song from the album -author doie ❀

you: happy birthday

dejun from psych2A: i fall in love with you a little bit more everyday

dejun from psych2A: oh shit wrong person ah ha

you: .... but same..

dejun from psych 2A: that’s not funny y/n

you: but im not trying to be

Dejun tosses his phone onto the bed, completely unbothered by your text messages. There is no way you are being serious, even he knows that you are the last person to confess over text. While, he is definitely the first person to do so, he smacks his head for accidentally sending it.

There was nothing going on in his head when he typed it out.. in fact, it’s the easiest text he’s ever written to you. But he genuinely couldn’t believe his slip ups extend as far as something like this. Thank god, you played it off well or else he isn’t entirely sure how he would have taken you blocking his number.

As his screen lights up once more, he glances quickly at your new message.

you: fine ur no fun ): ill just laugh to myself! im here btw

His heart can rest a bit easier today. Dejun finds himself practically tripping over his own two feet as he hurries to open the door for you. And when you appear on the other side, he can’t help the hitch in his breath at seeing your lovely smile. Or when you pull him into a tight embrace, like there is a fear to let him go, but the only fear is whether you can feel the quick pace of his heart.

It is hard to describe Dejun’s scent, but it reminds you of blooming flowers and familiarity. Overall, you can’t ever get enough of it or him. The truth: you love him enough for your heart to burst.

There are too many countless moments of your confessions to each other, you are more than receptive of Dejun’s regular clumsiness. And every time, you two play it off as nothing happened or a playful joke. However, you can’t wait any longer or keep with the back and forth. Tonight is going to be the night that the birthday boy will know your heart.

“I never understand why you’d want to spend your birthday alone.” Dejun’s arms fall from your waist disappointingly, both wishing that they would hold you for eternity.

The cute boy runs his fingers through his bed of a mess locks, a wide smile creeping on his soft lips, “well, I’m not alone now that you’re here.”

It sounded less flirtatious in his head, so the heat reaches his cheeks out of embarrassment. The locked stares and subtle small smile reassures him that you didn’t seem to mind the cheekiness.

Dejun joins you at your side as you pull the small cake out of the box. His gasp of excitement and face of awe makes you dance celebratory circles in his kitchen. Out of impulse, he draws you into another hug where you’re suffocated in his chest and wrapped up lovingly in his comfort. He snuggles his head against the top of your own and wiggles you in his arms.

“I’m so happy, I could cry.” His tiny voice reaches your ears and even though his face isn’t in view, you can imagine his eyes are closed from his gigantic, beautiful smile and his perfectly lined rows of teeth. “Being away from home, I thought I wasn’t getting a cake this year. My mom usually buys it for me.”

“From here on out, I’m going to buy you a birthday cake every year we’re in college together.” With muffles that tickle his chest, it causes him to rumble into a delightful, overjoyed giggle.

The warmth disappears when he lets you go to place the candles. With a flick of your thumb, they catch the impressive flame that hovers over their wicks. Dejun dims the fluorescent lights, letting the fire being the only thing illuminating the room. A smile remains well and shining on Dejun’s face as he pulls you next to him in front of the many melting candles.

“I want you to blow them out with me. It’s my birthday, but I want your wishes to come true too.” And how can you say no to that? So with a firm nod, you both seal your eyes and think of the first wish on your hearts.

i wish for a timeless and beautiful dream with you

Dejun is the first to blow out a few candles, making sure to do it softly to save you some. He grins at the sight of your closed eyes and concentrated expression, and with a big huff, you blow your wish into existence as well.

i wish to be loved by you

This man has no explanation to why he cares about you with his whole existence. Without a second doubt, the answer in his heart is you and it is always going to be you. Through every ambiguous smile and brief moment of implied gazes, he has nothing but love for you.

After cake, you two lounge around in his bed. He can’t take his eyes off of you as the distance between you two shorten. And the beating of his heart races when your lips are inches away from his own.

“I have another present for you. But I’m going to need your permission to give it to you.” The courage inside of you doubles at this very moment, mixing with adrenaline as your eyes dart from his lips to his widen eyes.

Dejun doesn’t understand the implication of your question, but nevertheless agrees to it. His dark eyebrows furrow together when your body scoots even closer to him than before.

The intimate level raises higher than it has ever done so. But, Dejun doesn’t mind and if you weren’t going to do it, he probably would... accidentally. The next thing that leaves your mouth comes to a pure shock to him, leaving his throat dry and a wish that he had taken a mint beforehand.

“Can I kiss you?” The dim lighting in his room unknowingly set the mood in motion with your wondrous eyes blinking back at him, waiting for his permission.

He isn’t entirely sure how you do it, but the way you can leave him utterly speechless and flustered is unbelievably a talent of your’s. Dejun’s string of stammered words fall from his mouth, “are we being serious-- like you want to? I mean, I want to too.. so yes.”

Almost all hope is lost when your giggle taunts him, but you hold his jaw with hot hands. The intimacy is too hard to ignore when your noses are slightly touching and the scent of your sweetness engulfs him. “happy birthday.” Your whisper grazes his top lip and both flutter your eyes closed.

His statement holds true, especially now that your lips finally have a proper introduction: he falls in love with you a little bit more everyday. All the more, the taste of melted candy and happiness lingers on his lips. Dejun holds his breath, scared that his senses will become overstimulated by you.

The kiss is broken as you pull away from the eager boy. A light sprinkle of pink tints underneath his eyes, and a soft shyness embodies him. But his lips are plump with the desire for more of you.

“I think I’m in love with you.” There is no perfect unison, no other perfect harmony that you two would have ever shared except for those seven words. Mirroring widen eyes out of shock, fingers feather your delicate lips, there is a suffocating silence that bestows upon the atmosphere.

In a split second, seeing your beautiful flustered figure in front of him, Dejun takes back what he says. He knows he’s in love with you. and hopes to love you in every possible way.

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bre-meister · 3 years

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I need some pre married/family angst

this is early relationship so pre-family and pre-married Cleon. I hope it’s angsty enough I kind of got distracted while writing to fight a huge ass hornet in my room ( I was super terrified ngl). This was such a journey for me to write that I don’t even have an official title for it like I normally try to do lol. This has also taught me that I need to work on angst that is not “person A and Person B fight”. Sorry for the rant here's the actual work:

Claire was mad. No, Claire was beyond mad. Claire Redfield was absolutely furious. Her rage was so blinding that she couldn’t even be bothered to apologize to the nice looking doorman as she barreled through the lobby of the apartment building of the object of said anger. She was sorry - felt the apology in her bones as soon as the smaller man began to cringe and cower slightly in her presence - but again, her anger prevented it from passing her lips.

Secretly, she did take a little pride in the fact that, as she entered the elevator, a young-looking couple decided to “wait for the next one” instead of sharing with her. It gave her a little more time to stew in her anger - pulling from the depths of her soul, every time that she had said it was okay even when it wasn’t - before she came face to face with him.

“What the hell Leon!”

The door to his apartment opened with such force that if circumstances had been different, she would have been worried about possibly putting a hole in the wall. Alas, her attention was not on the wall, but instead on the man lying on the couch in front of her. Leon was clearly either drunk or hungover. Although considering what she’d heard from both her brother - half the reason she was here in the first place - there was a distinct possibility it could be both. Claire wasn’t sure that could actually happen, but if anyone could make it a thing it would most definitely be Leon S. Kennedy.

All that came out of his mouth was unintelligible garble mixed in with a few pained groans. Claire took pleasure in that for a moment and allowed it to further stoke the flames inside of her. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was about to do. She’d kind of just gone on autopilot after getting. Chris’s concerned texts. Apparently, Leon had been ghosting everyone over the last week. So, there she stood, upset and silent until Leon made the mistake of finally speaking real words.

“Red,”

Claire didn’t let him finish. She exploded,

“No! You don’t get to do that, you hear me? You don’t!”

Claire moved towards the couch and yanked off the blanket covering Leon with more force than was probably necessary. The blanket had apparently been completely wrapped around him and, in his current state, that was enough to cause him to tumble to the floor. He let out another grunt of pain as he landed but Claire didn’t care.

“Get your ass up.” Her voice had calmed, steadied to an even tone. Her anger no longer manifested itself in yelling, but instead as a low growl behind her words.

When he didn’t make any effort to move, she said it again,

“I’m not asking Leon. Get up.”

He finally did as told. Standing he slowly moved to the small kitchen behind the couch. There he found a glass that looked somewhat cleaned and began to fill it with water.

This wasn’t the first time that Claire had been there to pick up the pieces whenever Leon fell apart. Safe to say, those instances had never quite played out like this one and Leon was a little jarred and, admittedly, a little afraid of what the red-headed woman might do.

They stared at each other as Claire gave Leon a moment to swallow the little bit of water that was left in his glass. When he sat it in the sink and she remained silent he let his impaired brain convince him that meant he should speak.

“What’s your problem? Chris piss in your Wheaties this morning?”

The look on her face caused concern. The laugh that followed chilled him to the core. Leon S. Kennedy had faced down and won so many B.O.Ws that he had lost count but at that moment as he looked across the room at a laughing Claire Redfield, he knew that he had quite possibly signed his death warrant. He also knew that if this truly were how he died, several people would help her cover it up, and frankly, he couldn’t blame them.

“My problem?” she continued to laugh, “What’s my problem?”

Leon was getting a little nervous. In yet another mistake, he even let out a few nerve filled chuckles himself.

“No, you don’t get to laugh! This isn’t funny,” and yet she was still laughing.

Leon was not.

“Do you know why this isn’t funny? Because I don’t think you do.”

He couldn’t have answered even if he wanted to - Claire cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth to fumble through some bullshit excuse.

“You don’t. I know you don’t because if you did you would have had your ass at the restaurant last week, Leon!”

Leon felt his stomach drop. Oh no. He really had fucked up this time.

“Sherry’s birthday.” He felt more than heard the mumbled words slip past his lips.

“Ya, Sherry’s birthday,” Claire turned around to finally close the door and Leon took the opportunity to sit down in one of the few chairs at his tiny kitchen table.

“You know, I was okay with this when it was only me you were fucking over. I know I shouldn’t have been, but I was. I told myself over and over that it was fine, you needed this time, you needed me and I was more than happy to give it to you - everything. I give you everything! But it was okay because you were always there for me too. Most of the time at least. And I get it, Leon, hell I get it more than probably anyone else. What we went through was hell, no one should have to go through that once let alone as many times as you do. But I was there too, I have to deal with that shit too. Sherry has to deal with that shit. She was Twelve Leon.”

“I know -”

“Then where the fuck were you? This was all she wanted! All she asked for for her birthday was for all three of us to be there, together and you couldn’t even get your shit together enough to give that to her. No call, no text, not even a half-assed excuse just nothing. The hurt and disappointment on her face - I’ll never forget that Leon. And to top it off, I had to cover for you and as much as I love you,” she saw that way his whole body seized up at her words, “I’m tired. I refuse to do that anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Claire.”

Claire pulled at her hair which, for once, wasn’t in its usual ponytail.

“Stop! It’s always sorry with you. For once could you just stop!”

“Stop what? Tell me what I have to do to fix this.” He was desperate. He didn’t want to lose her or Sherry. The idea of that - of finally being completely and utterly alone - was almost too much to bear.

“For starters stop making promises if you know you can’t keep them. Stop overcommitting yourself. Stop overworking yourself because that’s always how you get this way in the first place. And stop looking like that.”

“Like what?” he was a little puzzled. He may have also been on the verge of tears but, if anyone asked later he would deny it vehemently.

“Like...like I just killed your puppy or - or like I’m taking away everything from you - it’s making it really hard to stay mad!”

In any other situation, he might have laughed at that but he had sobered up enough between when Claire had burst through his door and now. Now, he really did feel that Claire leaving here like this, Sherry being disappointed with him - that truly was as if everything were being taken away from him.

“I’m sorry. I - I don’t know how to make you believe that I am, but I truly am sorry. I would never hurt you, Claire. I would never hurt Sherry.” He was pleading at his point. He didn’t know what else to do.

“But you did. You hurt us Leon, and I’m not saying that I won’t forgive you, but it’s going to take some time. You fucked up and your usual ‘sorry’ isn’t going to fix it when we always end up in the same cycle again.” She sighed and as the air left her body she could feel all of her anger leaving as well only to be replaced with immense sadness and disappointment.

Claire turned and walked towards the door. A small clang echoed through the silent room and, although Leon couldn’t see from his spot in the kitchen, he knew that Claire had dropped her spare key on the table next to the door.

“Wait! Claire, please, don’t.”

“Don’t what Leon?” She didn’t turn around, she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave if she did. So, head down she gathered her strength and continued,

“Don’t leave? Give me a reason to stay then.”

“ I love you.” It came out in a soft whisper.

Those three simple words - the first time he had ever said them to her in a non-platonic way. They made her heart soar and ache, both at the same time. She’d imagined this moment a lot but never like this. Never at the end of a fight that had been building for a long time. Never with her back to him, preparing to leave. Never with him sitting in his kitchen, a mess, crying in a way she’d never seen from him. Never like this. And, as much as she wanted to stay…

“ I love you too Leon. But that’s not what this is about. Call Sherry, she deserves to hear from you why you couldn’t do this one thing for her.”

With that, she left. With her, Leon felt a part of him leave as well.

The tears turned to outright sobs as he collapsed on his kitchen floor - dirty. The floor was dirty. He was dirty. He hadn’t cleaned or showered in a while but it was kind of fitting. His apartment was dirty, his clothes were dirty, his body was dirty but he was dirty in a way that was deeper than just the physical sense.

He’d let them down. The only two people in this world that he still gave a damn about. The only two people he would try for.

Then why hadn’t he? Why hadn’t he pushed himself harder? In the same sense, why hadn’t he taken a break when he had pushed too hard. Why hadn’t he tried harder to stop her? Why hadn’t he?

There were too many questions. If he left himself to ponder them for too long he’d never get up from this dirty kitchen floor and he couldn’t afford to stay here forever. He had business to attend to, phone calls to make.

First, to his job. Claire was right, he needed to stop overworking himself and he’s acquired more than enough hours to take some time off. Then, to Sherry, because he owed her an apology in more than just words. He only hoped she would allow him to make it up to her.

He wanted to call Claire - show her he was trying, that she was right and he would do better. However, he knew that would probably only make things worse. She always gave him the time he needed, now it was time for him to do the same.

But before anything, he had to get up off the floor. The floor was dirty. He was dirty. Leon was tired of the blood and grime that seemed to fill almost all of his waking hours as D.S.O Agent Kennedy. He decided he wouldn’t let it follow him home anymore. So, Leon got up.

On his way to the bathroom he passed by the bowl he kept on his front table by the door. It was a housewarming gift from Claire who knew he was always misplacing his keys and yet never making an effort to get more organized. Always looking out for him, his Claire.

Leon wouldn’t even let himself question if there even was a ‘his Claire’. Not that he owned her, no one could ever own Claire Redfield. But, looking at the two keys laying together in the bowl, Leon couldn’t help but think they were the same - a matching set. One complementing the other in a way that, while they were separate, they were still part of the same.

Yes, Leon Kennedy got up and as he looked at his dirty face in the mirror, he turned the faucet on because he was tired of being dirty. He was ready to get clean.

#Cleon #Cleon fic #Leon Kennedy #Claire Redfield #claire x leon #Claire/Leon #angst #resident evil #i wanna make my angst better so please hang with me until i do #sry for the long wait #sry again for the long ass rant at the beginning im super tired and it's kinda late but I wanted to post anyway #lol i'm doing it again

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marktuansvevo · 3 years

Text

baby fever

warnings; sexual content, slight cursing, lapslock, jinyoung is a gentleman

word count; just under 1,500

author’s note; im back with a little jinyoung fic!! i’m on week 12 of the semester so once the holidays roll around im going to try to be more active on here ♡ (also, if you want to check out my masterlist, you can find it here!)

you were putting yourself in a bad mood.

plain and simple.

it all started when jinyoung had accompanied you to your mother’s house for a family get together - your nephew’s 7th birthday party. it was hard getting over to your family home alone, nonetheless with your boyfriend. three of his castmates had gotten a stomach bug from a fancy restaurant they went to, so the whole crew got a weekend off. it was perfect timing for the two of you to enjoy a weekend off together at your family home.

the two of you mingled with your extended family, your family being more intrigued with jinyoung than with you. you couldn’t blame them - being in an actor was so much more exciting than being a sleep deprived college student. you absentmindedly listened to him tell stories from when he was on set that you’ve heard a million times. you didn’t mind, but he was always scared he was boring you, so he squeezed your hand as a way of saying thank you.

it wasn’t just all about him, though. jinyoung would always praise you about the grades you were earning; “did you know y/n got a 102% on her latest exam? she really is the smartest woman I know,” he would praise, making you blush as your relatives congratulated you.

you sat by jinyoung at the dinner table, feeling so at home. you knew he belonged with you. in years prior, you had always felt funny bringing significant others into your house — none of them ever fitting in right. now, sitting at the dinner table as your father laughed at one of jinyoung’s joke, you had never felt so complete.

you loved him so much.

dinner was over shortly, your nephew, siwoo, getting antsy waiting to open his presents. “auntie!!” he giggled. “come sit with me and read the cards.”

“siwoo, you’re a big boy now, you can’t read?” you teased him as you let him climb into your lap, handing the presents to him.

“this one is from you!!” he squealed, tearing the iron man bag open and yelling in surprise at the iron man costume, all your relatives giggling at him. “can I put it on??”

“sure, baby, after you open the rest of the presents!”

“oh yeah!” you giggled at him, looking over at your boyfriend who was taking pictures of you with siwoo. he winked when he realized you were staring.

the evening was winding down, a couple of your other younger cousins, siwoo, jinyoung and yourself were hanging out in the sunroom, watching iron man 3. siwoo sat in jinyoung’s lap (so you almost died of had a heart attack of cuteness). you giggled as your boyfriend dozed off, taking a picture of him to embarrass him...or maybe for your lock screen.

“jinyoung,” you cooed. “why don’t we get going?”

“what?? you guys can’t go??” siwoo groaned, his eyelashes pooling with tears. you frowned, you knew how tired the poor baby was.

“siwoo, honey don’t cry. me and uncle will be back tomorrow morning. hey, jinnie, im gonna go get my purse.”

“okay,” he kissed you, making the poor birthday boy wail harder.

“i hate you, jinyoung,” siwoo cried. not going to lie, that hurt, jinyoung thought to himself.

“hey, now what would auntie think if you heard you said that to me? she’d be so disappointed, sweetheart,” siwoo frowned, and muttered a small but sincere sorry. “it’s okay, siwoo.”

“its just that, grandma says you take auntie y/n away from us. that she doesn’t have time for us because she’s with you,” jinyoung didn’t think his feelings could be hurt anymore than earlier when the boy admitted his hatred for him, but kids were honest. it was` brutal. it hurt him because he knew your mother was saying this in front of your cousins, and very impressionable nephews.

“well, siwoo, did you know that your auntie,” he pauses for dramatic effect and lowers his voice. “did you know she works for iron man? and, as iron mans number one fan, you know they have very busy schedules right? y/n has to travel, all the while saving the world. does that make sense?” siwoo nods his head, eyes as big as saucers, taking in the information. “when I grow up, I want to be just like auntie!!”

jinyoung didn’t even know you were lingering in the doorframe, listening to his conversation. your heart and tummy were flooded with adoration for this man. no one else in the world could handle being verbally stomped on by a seven year old quite like jinyoung could.

you left, bidding siwoo a happy birthday, promising to come back in the morning, kissing your relatives goodbye as well.

the car ride home was met with comfortable silence, you staring out the window at the night sky and wondering how the hell you got so lucky.

you were going to pounce on him tonight.

as soon as you got into the hotel, you kissed him, soft and tender. “you’re so perfect, jinyoung,” you purred. his cheeks flamed up. “you know exactly how to work a room, but you never make it about yourself. a seven year old says he hates you and you take it in stride.”

“that actually made me want to cry,” he chuckled, letting you kiss him again.

“you’re perfect. i don’t know how i got so lucky....i love you so much, jinyoung,” his eyes softened.

“i love you too, baby...let me show you how much.”

your perfect boyfriend whisked you into the suite and onto the queen sized bed, taking his time removing your clothes. it was slow and passionate at first, and then became more feral, jinyoung whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he pounded into you, making you cry out. it was quite the contradiction, but it was delicious and you loved it. “y..y/n, i need to cum baby,” he warned as he was about to pull out. the two of you were too excited to be going on a weekend trip together that you forgot to bring condoms. sure, you were on birth control, but with his acting schedule and you still in your master’s program, it just wasn’t the right time for a baby.

jinyoung was about to pull out when you wrapped your legs around his torso, keeping him in you. “cum in me, jinyoung, please,” you begged him, smiling when he obeyed your request, moaning into your shoulder as he rode out his orgasm. he went limp against your body.

“i love you,” he muttered before falling fast asleep. you giggled, letting him doze off while laying on you. you didn’t mind, you wouldn’t be up much longer, anyways.

you woke up before jinyoung, pushing his sticky body off of you. he smiled, kissing your face. “you’re still afterglowing,” he mused. “my baby is the prettiest.”

“and you’re the most handsome,” you giggled. he smiled. “did you bring your birth control, baby? i can’t believe we forgot condoms.”

you stayed silent. his comment pissed you off for some reason. your smile was long gone. “because that would be the worst thing in the world, knocking me up?? god, jinyoung you can be so insensitive,” you cried as you sat up in bed, facing away from him.

“hey, y/n....what did i do?”

“you’re so fucking mean, jinyoung,” you were crying now, burying your face in your hands.

“why are you so upset with me, baby? i can’t help you if you wont tell me,” he said gently.

you did not deserve this man.

“I...i want our own siwoo, jinyoung. i want a mini jinyoung moving around in my belly. i want you to give me a baby, jinnie,” you were crying into his chest now.

“oh...baby...i can give you a baby...but i thought we agreed it’s too soon?” his eyes were as big as saucers now. “hey...talk to me baby.”

“i just want to be done with school. i want to get our lives going. i feel like im slowing us down. i just want a family with you. you are my family.”

“oh, honey...don’t wish our lives away. you’re right where you’re supposed to be. you’re not slowing anything down....hey look at me,” you did. “everything will fall into place. i will give you all the babies you want, love, okay? i love our future children, but i want to enjoy our time together, okay?”

“i know you’re right i know...i was literally blinded with baby fever seeing you with siwoo last night.”

“you’re going to be the best mommy, honey. look at this picture of the two of you,” he showed you his lockscreen — a candid of you with your nephew in your lap with your head thrown back in laughter. “you’re my whole world, y/n.” he smiled sincerely. “now, let’s go day drinking at your mom’s house!”

#got7 #got7 imagines #jinyoung #jinyoung imagines #got7 writings #jinyoung writings #park jinyoung imagines #park jinyoung writings

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razmahdaz-art · 3 years

Text

I Did It! I Wrote The Geraskier Birthday Fic! Let the Fluff and Angst REIGN! Happy Holidays and I hope this makes up for a lot of void on my end. Enjoy these Idiots! 4k words so snuggle up and have fun!

Geralt was in trouble.

Every winter had been hard, no matter how routine he presumed going home would be. Terrible monsters that forced him off the Path and delayed him to the point of being blocked from Kaer Morhen, the castle itself crumbling far worse than previous winters because of far nastier storms, or those rare and often heartbreaking winters spent without one or both of his brothers because they simply couldn’t make it through the pass in time. There were most certainly harder winters that Geralt had survived through, but now, in this moment, he couldn’t describe a worse or more threatening feeling than what the bard had just told him.

It was partially Geralt’s fault, and standing in the moment, he’s never felt more stupid. Every spring when he finds his companion and asks how his winter was, Jaskier always said “I’m a year older but still ready to out walk Roach.” Geralt would give a smile or laugh. It just made sense to him, the phrase, Jaskier saying he was older. A year had ended and started, so Geralt never felt the need to question it.

He suddenly began to question how he could be such an Idiot.

This year, finally, to even his own surprise, Geralt invited Jaskier to Kaer with him, finally letting himself have the luxuries that Jaskier has always said he deserved. Thankfully, Jaskier agreed, and the hike and travel had been remarkably kind to them. As well as everyone who stayed with them, Lambert and Eskel throwing arms open for the bard to finally walk into after so many decades of mere stories and mentions and passed “He says hello”s. The keep was being improved upon, Jaskier bringing a new motivation to their work through the inspiring songs and funny tales he would share while they did mundane chores, and the storms came and went without much complaint, which impressed Geralt by how well Jaskier seemed to be adapting to such a harsh climate.

This past week, however, Jaskier seemed to have slumped in posture and attitude. Everyone became used to the morning lute practice and half worked songs that their new companion filled the cold halls with, but those ditties have pittered out with the passing days. And now even the afternoons and evenings were growing a familiar and unwelcome quiet.

Tonight, though, when Jaskier went to bed hours earlier than he normally did, Geralt finally decided it was time to check on him.

The Witcher opened the heavy door to his bard’s room, the fireplace glowing low while Jaskier sat in a chair facing the warmth, his body hunched over himself a bit, his hands rubbing together to keep warm. Jaskier had only had the space for a little over three weeks and it was a stark reflection of his personality. Borrowed books from the library scattered about and the bed barely made, but no matter how intense the mess, it felt homely and comfortable. It felt like He belonged in the stone cold keep just fine.

Geralt walked over and leaned against the chair, his hand pressing against Jaskier’s back to let him know he wasn’t alone anymore. The bard’s head picked itself up and turned to look at him, a gentle smile tugging at the once downtrodden face he had been wearing. Jaskier leaned back into the chair and Geralt moved his hand to his shoulder, as they both just watched the flame flicker.

“You’re upset,” Geralt stated low. He knew Jaskier was upset, that wasn’t even a question, but he didn’t know how to ask what was actually wrong. The Witcher found that as long as he started the conversation, Jaskier would lead him through it.

“Is it showing?” Jaskier asks half heartedly with a hollow laugh. “I’m sorry if i’ve been bringing everyone down with me.” Geralt winces at the words, even if he knows that they’re a joke. He brings himself forward, sitting just on the edge of the arm rest. Jaskier had never needed an invitation, so he let his head roll to the side and rest on Geralt’s arm. They sit in a long stretching, but warm silence, it still sitting harsh in Geralt’s stomach.

“Talk to me. What’s wrong?” Geralt finally asks with no sense of shame.

The bard sighs long and horse before placing his arm and hand on Geralt’s leg, patting it absentmindedly like the large man sharing a chair with him was nothing more than a simple house cat. “Nothings wrong just...Different,” Jaskier admits, blowing a stray piece of hair from his face. That, Geralt expected. Kaer Morhen was far different from Oxenfurt, and he had feared the bard would be lost in such a place, either physically lost while wandering the halls, or emotionally at the cold and dark keep being the only scenery for months. His hand came up and tucked away any stray hairs.

“It’s my first winter here and away from my friends and family. Not that you aren't my Family, that’s not what I’m saying,” Jaksier’s hand squeezed Geralt’s thigh, reassuring him. “I just usually spend my Birthday with family and childhood friends back in Lettenhove, or with my peers in Oxenfurt. And I know how you Witcher’s don’t age, so I’d say the concept is kinda Mute here.”

And there it was. The thing that slammed hard into the Witcher’s skull like a sword was splitting him. Jaskier’s Birthday was the thing that made him doubt every ounce of intelligence he held in his body. Geralt had gone on close to a decade of not ever once questioning it’s date or passing, but now, in this chair with a melancholic bard on his arm, he was whipping himself over and over for such inconsiderate behavior. He could feel his heart pick up a few beats as terror raced through his very nerves, worse than any monster could ever make him feel.

“Ahh,” He said simply, all words throwing themselves into the void that is apparently his head. That’s when Jaskier turned to look at him in the eyes with the gentlest of smiles, and Geralt nearly fell from his perch.

“You’ve never been with me for my birthday, have you?” Jaskier asked his eyebrow raising. He looked tired like Geralt had never seen, a disappointment scorning him but Jaskier dulled it down, and that made it sting something in his core. “Ahh well, nothing to do about it. Maybe some drinks and some Gwent at this week’s end and we can call it another year, hmm?”

Jaskier stood, pushing on Geralt’s leg so he could stand up and stretch his already-aging bones. The Witcher stood up and was tongue tied, barely working out the syllables for a ‘Goodnight’ before he found himself in the hallway outside of Jaskier’s door, his heart aching and the back of his eyelids stained with that horrible hopeless expression Jaskier gave him. Geralt needed to make this right, and he needed to make it good. All these years as friends, all these years of him wanting something more, and he didn’t even have the fucking decency to as much as Ask when Jaskier’s birthday was. The bard was right, Witcher’s never really celebrated their own birthdays, but he should have assumed that someone like Jas would make a large deal out of the personal day.

Fuck.

Geralt wasn’t sure the last time he sprinted so hard his chest hurt, but it was probably deserved. His legs carried him down the stairs and back to the dining hall where, thankfully, Lambert and Eskel were still sitting and drinking the early evening away. They looked at him like the man was running from a pact of starving wolves and stood from their table and rushed to the man’s side in an instant. Eskel’s hand landed on his shoulder to guide him back to their table because Geralt looked like his lungs were about to give out on him. Lambert looked passed the door and down the hall to see if he could spot exactly what had him so startled.

“Bloody hell, what happened to you?” Lambert blurted to him, still keeping watch. “Where’s Jas, is he safe?”

“He’s fine,” Geralt growled out as he sat down, leftover whatever the hell he was drinking earlier pushed into his hand. Eskel knelt beside him just to make sure he didn’t choke. “Somewhat fine, rather. He’s...His…” Geralt tried hard to find the words without it incriminating him too much.

“He’s What? What’s Wrong with Jaskier?” Eskel tried to ring out of him.

His lungs finally settled and Geralt gathered everything in him to speak.

“His Birthday,” Geralt said in a hush, but no whisper could go unnoticed around here.

The heavy door closed on it’s own, the hand keeping it open letting gravity do the work as Lambert turned his head in a swift motion, pure dumbfounded-ness on his face. He walked over and Geralt could see that he was filled to the brim with ‘Are You Stupid?’ waiting to spill out and slap across the back of his head. He even looked to Eskel and found that, even as gentle and understanding the scarred Witcher could be, even he was confused out of his mind.

“His Birthday is...Wrong?” Eskel tried to figure out.

Geralt’s head fell in his hands and he felt the dark flush of shame fill his face. God, this was gonna be hard to explain. But if he wanted the other’s Witcher’s help in this, then he’d have to choose his words and actually speak them.

“It...Feels wrong to him, this year. He’s sad that…'' Geralt paused and looked at both his brothers behind his fingers. This was going to sting. “He’s sad I didn’t know his birthday, and that he wouldn’t get to celebrate with his family.”

SMACK

That did sting, a hard slap to the back of his skull almost knocked him to the table. Eskel yelled Lambert’s name in shock and there was bickering, but Geralt was somewhat lost as to what specifics were said because, fuck, Lambert had an arm on him. Soon enough he’s met with Eskel’s scarred face who just looked equally confused as before.

“So you...forgot?” He asked.

“I just...Never asked.” Geralt explained.

Lambert was about to smack him again but Eskel stopped him before he could make proper contact. They shared a moment of silent speech, a ‘I know but Don’t’ argument had in complete silence.

“But,” Geralt cut into this voiceless fight. “But I want to give him...Give him something. Something he’ll like. I feel Awful for not asking all these years and I just...I just want to make him happy,” his voice petered out at the end, like it was a confession.

Lambert let out a long sigh. “So, what, a Party? Brew up something strong that he’d like, maybe a book from the library?” He asks, trying to give somewhat useful suggestions.

Geralt just shakes his head. “That’s what he’s expecting. I want it to be good, I want it to be personal.”

“I can make dinner with Vesimir, something close to what he likes,” Eskel offers. But no, no, these were great but they weren’t perfect. They didn’t make up for a decade of seeming disinterest. If Geralt was going to make this right, he needed to make it perfect. He needed to Make It.

It hit him, and not like Lambert had. This was Harder and more precise.

“The Forge,” Geralt says. “I’ll make him a blade, maybe two.. Something Silver, something he’d like…” Geralt thinks deeply for a moment, contemplating ideas of make and what would suit him just right for his weight and balance.

“A Sword?” Lambert inquired, giving it some hard thought.

“Like ours,” Geralt informed. “He’s not a Witcher, But he’s…” Geralt paused a long second. “I want him to be something close.”

Silence overtook the room again, but this time, it wasn’t judgemental or harsh. It was warm and full of space for ideas and improvement and excitement. This was beyond thoughtful, in all Witchers eyes, a handmade set of weapons being the one thing that ties them all together, every wolve back to the same pact. Each sword different, but concept the same: a set to defend themselves like all of them were there, to have to remind them that they're not alone on the Path.

They talked that night, endlessly about what would fit right and what would work well for the bard. ‘This has to be great’, Geralt thought. ‘He deserves perfection.’

__________________________________________________________________________

Jaskier swears, with everything in his bones, that there used to be other people in this castle besides just him.

Ever since the other night with Geralt, Jaskier hadn’t seen much of him besides his morning hellos and his evening farewells, the two not having a solid conversation other than what they talk about at Dinner, which even then wasn’t much of anything. Geralt was never a good liar, Jaskier became aware of that fact very early on in their companionship. So when he asked ‘What were you doing’ and Geralt says ‘Working’, Jasker can’t help but know that he was hiding something. It didn’t help that every morning when the bard actually got his eyes on the other, he looked ragged, and every night he seemed worn worse. And it wasn’t like he could ask Lambert and Eskel anything, because of course he couldn’t.

He saw the pair more during the day than he had Geralt, but whenever he did, they seemed in a rush, wanting to be somewhere completely opposite of where Jaskier seemed to be in that moment. Prying never worked. Lambert waved him off, told him it’s Witcher’s work and not to be disturbing them, and Eskel, the one person Jaskier counted on giving him at least a clue, just excused himself and said some random task needed tending to before fumbling his way out of the conversation.

The bard was going mad, feeling like he’s completely lost control of whatever sanity he’s had. No matter how much he picks at his lute, scribbles down verses, or even bite at his nails until it hurts, Jaskier couldn’t seem to understand what’s been going on around the keep. He thinks back to what he said, to what he did the last time things were normal. ‘Did I say something wrong? What if I did make everyone sad along with my moping? Gods, was it the leg touching???’ He racked his brain over and over again, searching for whatever insult he posed to his hosts so he could maybe make up for it.

Though, from the way they seemed to be running away from him like the plague, he doubted he could return next winter.

“You look like you’ve been bit by a chimera,” Vesimir says as he walked into the Library Jaskier had cooped himself in for the afternoon, trying desperately to feel normal again. He can’t say he’s actually been reading anything, just staring at the page in front of him for over an hour. “What’s wrong boy, lost your song?”

Jaskier smiled at that, he did. Vesimir he at least did see, but being the man in charge, he didn’t see him any less than he had already. “Just...I don’t know, I can’t think right, I’m finding. Have you noticed that things are...Off?” He held out hope that the Oldest of this pack might be able to give him some insight.

“More than usual? Maybe, but I think it’s you’re doing,” Vesimir states as he organizes the collection of tomes. And that’s exactly not what Jaskier needed to hear. So it was his fault, of course it was, he had done something and fuck if he knows what it was and it just hurts. He can’t take it, couldn’t let this sit in his stomach one more second.

“What Have I Done!?” His yell echoes in the chamber, the chair he was sitting in screeching back against the stone and almost falling back as Jaskier shoved himself upright. “I’ve been trying, I have, and I know this isn’t my place and I know it’s not my home, but Gods, I thought I was being a good Guest. Then Low and Behold, suddenly i can’t find anyone and no one will tell me things and Fuck…” Jaskier’s voice breaks. He can handle people not liking him, he’s known plenty of people who do. But they at least had the decency to tell him why, even if it was a knife shaped bunch of words.

Vesimir strides up to the bards side and clasps his arms, soothing the strong quaking Jaskier was ringing from his body. "Easy boy, Easy!" He said, ducking his head to make eye contact with the now weeping bard. "I've never seen the boys happier than when you're here. Jaskier, I'm sure they're just being Idiots." Vesimir reassures as he rubs circles into the bard’s arms.

“Come On,” Vesimir says in a tender and gentle voice. “I’ll make you some tea, and we can have dinner and talk. I’m sure we can get down to whatever funny business those boys are cooking up.” Jaskier only nods, weakly. Gods it was time for dinner. He’d been so lost in his own head that he hadn’t realized that Night had settled over the mountains.

Vesimir’s hand came up to his back to guide him down the halls, small shakes still slithering through Jaskier every so often, and it didn’t help that the whole castle was in a constant state of cold. He stumbled through the long halls, his head still running through every possible mistake he made, every wrong reply or ill timed Joke. He wanted to believe Vesimir, that this was just something not of ill intent, but Jaskier dreaded the worst of outcomes. Vesimir’s hand left him to open the large doors to the dining hall, a dim light shining under where it barely hit the floor. It was pushed open, and at the mere crack of it, Jaskier was sent reeling.

There was warm orange light, and an intense warmth enveloping him as the entire hall seemed to be warmed to well above what was needed, and the cold in his fingers and toes started to burn away. And the Smells, oh Gods, Jaskier couldn’t dare compare it to what he is served at banquets or weddings. This was better and strong and it found its way deep into his lungs and stomach and it growled worse than any beast Geralt had ever fallen. They walk in and the table, the one that they always sat at for meals, was heavily set with perfectly cooked and spiced game birds and roasted veggies and bread that smelled fresher than anything he had ever been met with here. Tankards were filled with something dark and strong, he’s sure, and by all the Gods above, Jaskier was about to cry just then and there.

He didn’t realize he wasn’t alone until he heard a solid ‘Ahem’ from behind him. Turning quick, some smiles struck him something heavy. Eskel, covered in flour and wiping his hands with a rag gave the gentlest smile his face was allowed. Lambert stood next to him, smelling of something Jaskier could trace back to the tankards, and that devilish grin staining his face. Lastly, Vesimir with his arms crossed and a beam of pride spread across his lips as he clapped a hand on Lambert’s shoulder. Jaskier could feel his eyes suddenly burn, and every negging word of doubt scattered.

“You...What’s all This?” Calloused hands motioned back to the table behind him and then back towards the line of Witchers.

“Geralt said it was your birthday,” Eskel hummed, the rag he was working getting flung onto his shoulder. “He wanted your first one at the Keep to be Special, so we…” His voice trailed off as his hand gestured to the feast in question.

There was movement, all the Witcher’s knew there had to be, but in a single instant, the bard was pulling all of them into the biggest hug he could muster. His arms barely wrapped around everyones bulky shoulders, but they weren’t going to let him do all the work anyways. A menagerie of arms held each other, solidly, as somewhere deep in the mess, a bard sobbed tears of exasperated relief and joy. There was something missing, though, something that tainted the whole night from being perfect. Jaskier was let go as he tugged back a bit to look at the group, noticing one white haired Witcher missing from the lot.

“Wher-” his question was nipped at the bud.

“Geralt will be here, he’s just cleaning up,” Lambert reassured as he ruffled through that mop of brown on Jaskier’s head. “Come on, I’m starving. We’ve been waiting for you too long, let’s dig in!”

And Dig in they did, not unlike an actual pack of wolves. Everything was divine, the birds roasted and perfectly moist and flavorful, and Gods, Jaskier hasn’t stuffed himself this much since that one time he and Geralt got lost on the backroads for a little bit too long. The drinks were pleasantly sweet, a vast difference from anything Lambert had previously made for him, but it still made his head fuzzy at the edges and warmed his gut. Thoroughly enjoying the display in front of him, the night was carrying onward, and Jaskier was almost worried Geralt wouldn’t be showing his face.

Almost, was the key word.

While Lambert was topping off whatever number of drink they were on, the heavy doors swung open again and let in a wave of cool air that was, honestly, refreshing and just a hint sobering. In the doorway stood the last and late-est Witcher, and Jaskier could instantly see why. He looked clean, neater than he usually does, dressed up in a very familiar silk-trader shirt that Jaskier had dressed him in before more than once. His hair was brushed and half up in a neat bun. There was something tucked under his arm but Jaskier was thoroughly distracted that he had barely enough time to notice before the Witcher was standing next to him

“Hello,” The bard cooed as he turned in his seat to give Geralt his full attention. And he smiled, Metelile, The Witcher smiled at him unabashed and shameless.

“Hey,” Geralt hummed, his one free hand coming to mess with the already tussled brown locks. “Happy Birthday.” They laughed, everyone, cozy and throaty and roaring in Jaskier’s chest.

“Is this why you’ve disappeared all week? Almost sending me into a spiral so you could throw all of this together?” Jaskier waved his arms around at the occupied table in front of him. Geralt just smiled at the floor and quirked his head that Jaskier only saw when he was flustered.

“Partially,” He responded. “This was put together mostly with their help, like you said you wanted,” Geralt’s head motioned towards his two brothers who just raised their cups towards the two of them. “I was busy…”Geralt shifted, kneeling fucking Kneeling, infront of Jaskier and taking the parcel under his arm and placing it on his leg like it was a table. “Making these for you.”

Jaskier’s heart skipped as the leather bound present was offered to him. His hands touched the rough material for a moment before he brought the heavier-than-expected gift into his lap. He locked eyes with Geralt, squinting and suspicious, but that only made the Witcher smile sweeter than before, a hint of Eagerness in his eyes. Leather ties were worked under calloused fingers, strands tugged this way and that to extract whatever this was from it’s wrapping. The scraps of hide were pushed away and left in Jaskier’s lap, intricate and detailed, were two dark leather sheaths, scenes of wildflowers and stars decorating the smooth holsters. Jaskier could already feel tears start to well, almost not wanting to believe what he was just given, but as he looked back up to those molten gold eyes that seemed to be brighter than the very sun, it grounded the bard in reality.

“Geralt you really did-” Jaskier’s words were cut short again.

“Just open them,” Geralt instructed. Jaskier was never one to leave Geralt waiting, so he tugged at the brown leather wrapped hilt of one of the blades.

A Dagger, it was. Steel, cold, and a terrible kind of sharp that made him shiver. It was beautifully designed, the blade itself engraved with calligraphed words down right down the center that read “Yet Here We Are”. It was balanced and shining and so incredibly perfect that his breath caught in his throat as he looked it over. Only a thread was holding Jaskier together that he almost didn’t dare open the second, but he was once again faced with that beautiful face of pleading sweetness that Geralt bore for him that he had no other choice.

He pulled the other one free and this one was Silver, he knew, having to discern the difference to properly care for Geralt’s blades. It was nearly identical, the shape and make just as beautiful and radiant as the steel one but instead of words, engraved down the center was a single dandelion puff, it’s seeds scattering into a wind that drew it up the middle and away into oblivion. They were beautiful, Jaskier thought un-eloquently, every adjective he had deserting him in a second. His eyes were stuck for a long moment that he didn’t realize he was crying until one of his tears smudged his reflection in the weapon.

“You...This...Gods, Geralt, Why?” His voice croaked out, soaked with happiness that it hurt. He caught the Witcher sniffle at the beginning of a chuckle, just as his large hand landed on his knee.

“I’ve missed many winters with you, many celebrations, many words I could have said,” Geralt admitted, his other hand coming to rid the bard of his tears. “I wanted to make it up to you. I wanted to remind you that you matter to us. To Me,” his hand fell to hold his bard’s hand and Jaskier gripped it tight enough to pinch, just wanting to make sure this was real and not some sick dream. “And I’m sorry for being such a fucking fool.”

They laughed, the two of them, just in that little space that they shared. Jaskier’s chest ached in the best kind of way, slow and full of that rumbling thing called affection that clawed at him everytime he was with Geralt; That rumbling churned into a full on storm fueled by tenderness and alcohol and the feeling of being wanted. That feeling of being finally, after a long harsh winter, home. His head bumped against Geralt’s in an unelegant way but he couldn't find the smallest part of him that cared.

“Gods Above Geralt, If you don’t kiss me I might break,” Jaskier whispers, rasped and breathy. Before he could take it back, before he had fucking time to worry about what he said, there were lips against his, inviting and soft and overwhelming and not nearly enough all at the same time. Hollars were there, laughs and roars of excitement, but the bard would be damned if he focused on anything other than here and now and Geralt.

They pulled apart, their lips just ghosting over each other for seconds and all the while Jaskier couldn’t find it in him to open his eyes. It was just right, that solidness he leaned against, sturdy and warm and smiling at him if Jaskier had to guess. Vision returned and it was flooded with gold and a warm blush painted across Geralt’s cheeks, a proper smile carving into his face like it was meant to be there, and be there for him to see only. Jaskier was spoiled rotten, but he couldn’t find it in him to want to stop.

“Hmm,” Geralt hummed again, jolly and soothing. “So...Have a happy birthday?” He asks, chuckling.

“Gods, Geralt,” Jaskier scoffed as he went back into to trap the man with another kiss like this could all be gone tomorrow. “The best,” he responds as they break.

Geralt’s arms envelope the shorter man in front of him and hold him like his life depended on it. Because it really did, he found, his very soul being soothed by the warm contact they shared. ‘Perfect’ he thought to himself, ‘This is perfect.’ His nose buried into his neck and it felt like it was carved out specifically for himself.

This truly was a present fit for his Bard.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #the witcher netflix #Winter fluff fic #Idiots to lovers #Geralt has no brain cells #Just the way we like em here out in Witcher country

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bangtan-pugh-bug · 3 years

Text

Scott Lang x reader

Chapter 2

I apologise this is a long chapter but domesticated Avengers makes me happy. If you’re reading this it’s meant to be a slow burnnn so enjoy the burning, the Tony x reader friendship and Thor being domesticated. If you like unsmashed lamps this chapter may be hard for you to read I’m sorry.

Warnings: none. unless you count archers breaking things.

You opened your weary eyes but everything was still black. Something warm was brushing against your face. You were warm... and in bed. ‘Please tell me I’m in my own bed.’ Without moving your splitting head you had no idea who could hear you until the unmistakable voice of Thor replied ‘It’s your own.’ He sounded amused. Somehow you felt well rested and more tired than you’d felt since Scott kept you up all night showing you card tricks, all at the same time. Although out of all the occupants in Stark Tower, Parker tired you out the most. The child. He was lucky you liked him.

Groaning you rolled over and face dived into your pillow clenching your eyes closed. Of course it was your bed. No one else’s smelt this good. Unless you’d gone nose blind as that weird advert went. ‘What day is it?’ You felt ridiculous asking but wasn’t this how you were supposed to behave? Youth? because Peter was in the minority being so morally well adjusted.

‘Sunday.’ That voice woke you up. ‘Y/N we can leave if you really want to sleep for another hundred years,’ you finally opened your eyes to see a much happier Scott smiling at you. Next to him was a smiling Thor glancing outside at the blue sky like a bird and a Peter looking apprehensive. You weren’t sure what as wrong with him he didn’t have the worst hangover of all time.

‘Come on get up,’ Scott spoke to you like you were five which just made you scowl... like a five year old. Looking mockingly scared Scott raised his hands up in ‘defeat’. ‘Okay don’t get up. I’ll just eat all the delicious pancakes Thor made myself.’

Thor snapped out of his bird watching trance to grunt before nodding ‘Yes. I’m afraid they are delicious.’ What did you do to deserve such generosity? And how could you resist pancakes? Oh but bed or pancakes?

‘These are amazing!’ You exclaimed (you had chosen pancakes). Thor grinned at your compliment as you ate like a rabid dog. Scott closed all the kitchen cupboards - he was such a dad sometimes - before leaning on the worktop facing you. ‘I’m glad you like them ,’ Thor remarked before finishing his breakfast and going to presumably get a shower leaving you with your favourite ant and third wheeling spider.

‘S- so I have an assignment due next month which is gonna take forever but Mr Stark-‘ as Peter launched himself into a long winded story about homework Scott caught your eye and smirked. You felt as if you were speaking in code. He watched you listen to your friends tangled tale with as much enthusiasm as you could muster despite your hangover. It seemed to amuse him.

‘And I was thinking who do I know that knows a lot about this sort of stuff? Y/N but I didn’t know how to ask y-‘

Scott gave you his best: can-you-believe-this-shit look and chuckled quietly keeping his eyes on yours. You smiled back but tried not to laugh - not wanting to upset Peter. Scott wasn’t as used to him as you were. He must have felt ancient beside someone as young and sprightly as the kid because even you felt middle aged in comparison. Luckily Peter had the attention span of a little child so before Scott could even try and think about asking him to leave he was off. Where? Chasing butterflies and doing something you did not need to know about.

You swallowed your words before they came out once Peter had left you and Scott alone. He was washing up and you weren’t even bothering to offer to do it instead. The hangover brain was strong and you didn’t even remember drinking never mind being pissed. Just as you watched him wash the final plate Scott turned to look at you. ‘You don’t even remember what you did last night do you?’

Oh fuck. Shit. What did you do? What could you have done? How could Scott tell you didn’t know? Was he turning into a psychic because of the quantum realm? It wouldn’t surprise you. Less and less shit did since moving to Stark Tower.

‘No. How can you tell? Have you absorbed Charles Xavier’s powers?’ Thank god the panic didn’t show in your voice for a change because otherwise all those oscar worthy performances you gave in the shower would have been a waste of time. Scott’s face pulled into a smug smile as he sat down at the breakfast table you hadn’t left.

‘Oh poor Y/N,’ he pulled a mocking sad face and used his creepy high pitched voice you hated. ‘Is someone confused?’ He was revelling in having the upper hand for a change.

‘Funny. You’re funny. Now tell me what I did or didn’t do last night before I throw this plate at you.’ You both knew you would never throw a plate at his cute face. It wouldn’t be worth the lecture of Steve on manners either. Steve. What could he possibly teach you about manners - they were fucking impeccable?

‘That’s not asking nicely.’

Your stomach contracted slightly as you could almost visualise the two pathways the conversation could lead to. His eyes were burning into yours with a new intensity you’d never seen in Scott before. It made your mouth dry and you cheeks burn up slightly. You felt like you’d been shoved into an oven without warning.

‘Fine,’ he refused to break eye contact with you and it was infuriating in a way. You willed him to stop as if he could in fact mind read. ‘Please just tell me what happened.’ Normally you only took this tone with Tony, you couldn’t help but wonder if in a weird way it meant you were getting closer to Scott. Atleast more comfortable. That would help you make less of a spectacle of yourself on a daily basis (not that that wasn’t fun but- ).

He told you that it wasn’t as bad as everyone was making out but you had decided to play beer pong with Thor and lost. Badly. You’d apparently cried when Clint said he didn’t want to play just dance and stormed off like a grumpy toddler who couldn’t get her own way.

‘Jeez,’

‘I know. You’re classy.’

‘I can be classy!’

Scott snorted at your outrage, downing the last of his orange juice while you sat in mock disbelief. ‘I’ll believe that when I see it.’ Okay noted. Scott didn’t think ripped fishnets were classy. Interesting. His ex wife was classy - ah let’s not open that door.

‘I didn’t throw up did I?’ You finally asked the burning question every hungover Gen Z member had to ask. He ran his hands through his dark hair but you refused to let your eyes linger for too long. ‘No you didn’t.’ This was followed by a cat like stretch he seemed to revel in performing. You heard the bones in his wrists crack and narrowed your eyes at him because you couldn’t think of what else to say. He didn’t seem interested in speaking either, he was blank. Fuck it. You knew when to let a conversation end.

‘I’m gonna shower.’ and as you left Scott alone in the kitchen to find the bathroom empty you smiled: if Scott had been 18 he would have said ‘without me?’ and thank god he wasn’t. You liked your older men immature in some ways (the fun ways) but pick me boys you could not abide. Scott was certainly not one.

After you’d sucked any joy out of showering dry by obsessing over how sad Scott may or may not be about his ex wife (or if he wanted advice) you dried yourself. You were 18 what advice could you have for the man? Middle aged men did seem to come to you for advice despite your own doubts and lack of experience. When Steve had been left out of a mission because of another fight with Bucky you practically became his mother consoling the drama queen. Tony called it ‘hilarious’ but you had a different word for the experience. That being said you wouldn’t mind listening to all of Scott’s problems on a loop on a fucking tape but bias is bias.

The walk to Tony’s obnoxiously large living room was short from the bathroom. The sound of the cold tile against your bare feet was all you could hear for a moment before the sound of-

‘Shit. Shit!’

Clint.

You entered the crime scene cold and confused, your wet hair was dripping cold down your back making you shiver. Stood in front of the tv flaming at the nostrils was a pissed off yet guilt ridden Clint Barton looking down at his handiwork. Lay on the floor was the lamp you’d bought Tony for his birthday. Smashed.

Nat was scowling at the archer lecturing him on how to carry things like a cross teacher. Wanda, Vision, Bucky and Steve were less concerned. You weren’t concerned at all it was a fucking £10 lamp. ‘Nat it’s fine it was an accident it’s just a lamp.’ You interrupted her scolding which gained you a sympathetic smile from Clint. His eyes said thank you. Nat did not seem convinced but swallowed her pride and calmed down anyway.

You scanned the room until your eyes met Scott, which you knew you needed to stop doing so often. There they were. Pointing back at you : a mixture of humour and the sadness you couldn’t stop noticing even if no one else did. You caved first and smiled at him. It was impossible not to.

‘Are we forgetting he’s a millionaire?’ Scott laughed at his own comment.

‘Excuse me, billionaire.’ Tony revelled in correcting people on how much money he had. How many cars he owned was a fun one too or how many times he’d redesigned everything in the house because he was ‘bored.’ Nat rolled her eyes in your direction which you quickly returned.

‘Really? Billionaire?’ Scott couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His voice was so high and his eyes were so wide you just grinned at his adorable face. Bless him. He knew nothing about Tony’s empire. What no one wanted was Scott’s lack of knowledge to end in a long speech from the billionaire about his life story. No one would stay for that.

‘I bought you churros. You said I had to pay for everyone’s.’ Scott sounded as if he could cry, so naturally everyone laughed. Even Vision. You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen him laugh before, it was so sweet. ‘Well I’m sure you’ll survive.’ Tony’s signature eyebrow raise was code for I’m-better-than-you.

Once everyone got up to get drinks and choose a film Scott snaked his arm onto your shoulder startling you. Everyone was on the other side of the room and no one was looking. There was a chance Tony was to see if you made a fool of yourself but you could live with that. ‘You jump so easily,’ he was not wrong. Everything startled you. ‘Did you know how much money Tony made?’

His hand left your shoulder, making you fight the urge to sigh in disappointment from the lack of touch. He sounded genuinely curious. Why he was fixating on Tony’s money you did not know. He didn’t steal anymore.

‘Everyone does. Why are you so interested? Are you planning a heist?’

Scott’s face changed. He was stood so close to you if either one of you moved there’d be no space to breathe. You wondered if he would ever fucking notice your ‘little crush’ on him or if it would continue like this forever. Would that be so bad? No. It would make more sense.

‘If I was you could be my accomplice.’ He sounded so confident. Of course it was a joke but still .. you? A criminal?

‘Hmm ... I think Nat would be a better choice.’ He smiled down at you as his hand found its way back to your shoulder. His touch, even in a non sexual way, made you feel like putty.

‘Sure she can come too. You’d be better company though, she’s a bit scary.’ You both laughed and then he was back to the sofa with the others. It took you a moment of standing around like an idiot taking Scott’s words in before you could join them.

Better company. Better company. Better company that a Russian assassin? Did that really mean much?

Taglist: @supraveng

#marvel #marvel fandom #scott lang x reader #scott lang fluff #scott lang #ant man #marvel x reader #thor #tony stark #peter parker #the avengers #marvel fanfiction

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salt-warrior · 3 years

Text

WHEN EARTH TURNS TO ASHES

Masterlist

Chapter Six: Dust and Ashes and Cinders

Burning wings fluttered to no avail. Screams pierced the air with an agonizing ferocity. Flames licked at golden skin as the angels fell from Heaven and into the gaping jaws of Hell.

Dozens of the majestic creatures fell; the gradual descent causing their lovely features to turn impish and cruel. Feathered white wings turned to scales of black; the skin of shimmering gold shriveling into wrinkled gray tinged red; eyes of the purest summer's day transformed to a forest fire. It was both marvelous and shattering to watch.

The burning Hellfire—which should have consumed them—embellished their features into something near glorious. The flames licked their skin and caused it to glimmer instead of burn.

Heaven's clouds of ultimate glory began to close, allowing but one last angel to crash down to Hell. This final angel, however, did not change as she fell. Unlike her brothers and sisters, the angel's godly splendor increased into something more beautiful than man was worthy to behold. This angel was neither of Heaven or Hell, for She had been dragged out of Heaven against her will.

The angel continued to fall, but not to Hell—for the gates to fire and smoke had closed just as sure as the entrance to glory. The fallen angel was stuck in the middle. Earth.

Fire and glory consumed the angel, though no visible harm showed upon her skin. Tears flooded from her large earthy eyes and down her golden skin. She did not scream like the other fallen angels had, for at least they had a place where they were meant to live.

But this angel belonged to no one; she wasn't wanted by anyone.

***

Sweat still cooled the back of his neck, even as Kai walked into the Hospital. It was two in the morning, but family, doctors, and nurses still buzzed inside the white walls. Kai wasn't surprised. He remembered living in a different hospital for weeks while waiting for the passing of his mother.

It had been nearly a week since Kai had last come to visit Selene. He hadn't known whether or not he could stand to look at her, but he could no longer stay away— not after his dream.

Kai never remembered his dreams. He had been jealous of Thorne for having such exotic dreams for years, but maybe there was a reason for why he usually forgot. The dream he'd had was far too terrible and upsetting.

Kai had promised himself that he would do everything in his power to help this girl. He had kept that promise, but perhaps not in the way he should have. Kai had made a statement with the police. He had visited with Levana. He had taken care of her financial problems, but there wasn't a single day in which Kai had sat by her side and been there for her. He had left her all alone. He was a coward.

After seeing Selene for the first time since the accident, Kai had become sick. Guilt ate at him every time he looked at her mutilated flesh and lack of a limb. He had been so selfish; but he was ready to put that past him.

The extreme burns ward stank in a sickening way. You can still leave, Kai thought. She's in a coma; she won't know that you've been here. Kai hated himself for thinking it, but he couldn't help it.

Pushing past all the fear and guilt, Kai opened Selene's door. Immediate relief filled him at the mere sight of her. Already her skin was healing over, the skin grafting making her skin look patchy instead of bloody and charred.

Kai plopped down in the seat next to her bed. He hesitated, but grabbed her right hand— the one that wasn't burned. She looked peaceful and serene as she slept. Every care in the world had been swept away, if only for a few more days. A pang hit Kai's heart as he remembered the angel, knowing that it had been her.

Clearing his throat, Kai spoke to her. "I, um..." Kai turned to look at the doorway, but it remained empty. "I'm sorry that I haven't been here for you. You're all alone, and I let my own self pity and guilt keep me away, and I hope that you'll forgive me."

No response came, but Kai felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. "I got most of your affairs sorted through." Kai smiled, rubbing the back of her hand. Her palms were rough, and it must have been from her mechanics job. The backside of her hand, however, was soft and smooth. "I talked to Levana. She's the one who hit you. She feels terrible, maybe even worse than I feel."

A pause. For some reason, Kai kept on expecting her to talk to him. Stupid. "She was driving to visit her step-daughter. She just had a baby, but it's hard for her to take care of her. The daughter, Winter, has schizophrenia. She has these episodes where she thinks she's frozen or that her house is pooling with blood. Anyway, Levana was going down to help because Winter's husband was gone. He's a doctor and studies schizophrenia in hope for a cure. They were childhood best friends and he promised that he would help her. He loves her that much."

A warm fluttering filled Kai's chest. He wasn't entirely sure why he was telling Selene the story, or why Levana herself had told him, but he couldn't help it. He was a hopeless romantic, and the fantasy of someone loving another person that much filled Kai with unexplained joy. Thorne always teased him about it, but Kai couldn't help it.

"Anyways, Levana feels terrible about the whole thing. I heard that she's come to visit you a couple times even. She ran into Thorne one of the times." Thorne, unlike Kai, had visited Selene multiple times, though it was due to Kai's request. He had visited her three times, reporting that she looked even more hot every time he saw her while Kai sat in the hall outside her room trying not to cry. Kai hoped that he would not try to make a move once Selene woke up.

"I hope that Thorne hasn't bugged you too much. I told him just to come in and check on you, but he probably told you some terribly inappropriate jokes instead." Kai chuckled. "Sorry about him. His heart is in the right place, at least.

"I'm going to try contacting your family today. Well, Foster Family. I don't really know if it counts, but I bet they still love you." Kai cursed himself. He didn't want to give her false hope. Or himself for that matter. He had no clue of her backstory or why there had been a falling out. He had always had a happy family, and it was unfair to assume that hers was the same. "I bet that they'll come for you." Kai amended.

"I bet that I can even convince them to come down for your birthday." Kai winked, though there wasn't really a point. She couldn't see him. "I know that you'll be turning the big double decades in a week and I think that I'm gonna throw you a party."

Iko told him that small detail. She even mentioned that Selene should be able to be at home by that time as long as she had daily hospital visits.

"Selene," Kai covered her hand with both of his own. "I know that I don't know you at all, but I feel like some part of me does. Maybe it's because I dragged you from a burning car and have talked only complete nonsense to you since. Or perhaps it was fate. I don't know. You probably don't even believe in that kind of crap anyways."

A tugging sensation in Kai's gut urged him onward. "When I met Thorne, my best friend, we just kind of clicked. I knew that he would be my best friend, even before we talked to each other. I could be crazy, or sleep deprived–" Kai glanced at the clock on the wall.. "–but I think I'm supposed to know you."

Kai pulled Selene's hand up to his mouth and placed a tender kiss on it. He used to do this with his mother, while she was obstructed with machines and tubes. "Thank you for listening to me, Selene. I'll be back soon."

And Kai knew with a surety that he would.

***

The stench of smoke consumed the dark room, but the presence of the substance no longer remained. Selene's lungs burned, and her eyes stung, but at least she could breathe.

A light flashed on above Selene's head and she closed her eyes with a wince, blinded. A headache throbbed behind Selene's eyes, and the light made it ten times worse. "Wake up, you piece of crap." A kick landed in Selene's side. She let out a yelp, but that only earned her more abuse.

"Please stop." Selene begged, something she hated. She had begged for her mother not to leave her, but nature did enjoy the suffering of orphans. She had begged to stay with the Kesley family, but they hadn't wanted her. She had begged for Peony—the only person who had ever treated her like family—to stay with her, but she had left. "Please."

A strong arm grabbed Selene under the armpits, dragging her off the floor. Selene opened her eyes, just as her body was placed in a plastic school chair. Four people surrounded her, all familiar, but only three expected. The fourth caused a stab of betrayal within Selene.

"Why are you–"

"You know why we're doing this to you, Selene." Barked Sybil Mira, but that wasn't what Selene had been asking this time. She knew why they were doing it, but not why her best friend was. Sybil glared, her dark hair contrasted horribly with her honey skin and storm colored eyes. The black spots dancing across Selene's vision weren't doing much to help her case.

"You did a terrible thing." Sneered Aimery Park. It was funny to hear him accusing her of doing something bad after all the torment he had given to dozens of girls. "You killed Peony, and you're going to pay for it."

Selene glanced down at her feet. It was true; she had done something terrible. She was the reason why Peony had lost her life, and she deserved whatever came next. The only thing that she regretted was that her only friend had turned on her as well. She was the only girl who would talk to Selene, and it went the same for her. They sat together at lunch and did group projects together, and had even spent some time together outside of school together. But that had all been before the accident.

Pearl walked in front of the other three, dragging her nail viciously across Selene's cheek. "When we're done with you, you'll be nothing but dust and ashes and cinders."

Selene stared into Pearl's dark eyes fiercely. She was not about to play the docile girl who would get kicked around. Yes, Selene had made a mistake in letting Peony grow attached to her, but there was nothing that would fix it. They could do whatever they wanted to her, but Selene would never accept that it was right. Because it wasn't.

The final person came to stand in front of Selene. Her presence made Selene ache. She was the only one here who could truly hurt Selene. She would be the one to destroy her.

Selene waited for her best friend to say her piece. The girl hesitated, and for a second Selene thought that she looked regretful. There was a shot of pain in the blue eyes, and she was twisting her fingers in her hair out of nervous habit.

"You deserve this, Selene. You deserve the darkest and most fiery places of hades domain." Whispered the familiar voice. A single tear slipped from the girl's eye. Selene visibly flinched at the words. It hurt to know that her best friend would tell those who wanted to hurt her exactly how to injure her the most.

Selene hadn't meant to kill her sister. It had been an accident, and even the paramedics claimed that there was hardly anything she could have done differently. Selene blamed herself, but not in the same way Pearl did. She hadn't meant to do it, and she had thought her best friend would understand that.

Anger bubbled beneath Selene's skin. Hatred filled her; she would no longer beg to these monsters, but take her punishment. They could do anything to her, but in the end, she wouldn't waste another thought on them— they just weren't worth it.

"I'm sorry, but I'm pretty sure that place is already reserved for the four of you, Cress."

#when earth turns to ashes #WETTA #marissa meyer #kaider #the lunar chronicles #linh cinder #tlc #prince kai #emperor kai #kaider fanfiction #salt warrior stories #selene blackburn

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anochuu · 4 years

Photo

P.S. 10.05.2020 is Rengoku’s Birthday! So i was thinking to add an additional short oneshot for him! I’ll get back to the other works as soon as possible!

Here’s to my ultimate bae,Cheers!

⤧Fluff

“SURPRISE!”

Rengoku stood frozen right on the brink of the door where the lights that were turned off earlier are now brightened up bringing the faces he is so familiar with came to his view.

“Happy Birthday Rengoku-san!” They all greeted simultaneously-well,mostly were too loud.

“Woah woah,what's this! I didn't even realised it's my own birthday!”

“Figured that out,so your woman here made sure to drill it inside our heads this morning.” Tengen’s voice drawl from his left.

He blinks then as if to answer his wonder. The crowd in front moves to the sides,allowing him to finally set his eyes on her smaller form with a cake on her hands.She walks forward to approach him in silence,a smile on her face and Rengoku couldn't help but to be awestruck at her.

“I learnt how to make this when you're off the mission since last week; i hope it's to your liking. Look! i even add your favourite sweet potato flavour!”

“(y/n)..” he murmurs her name dreamily,

Her genuine smile widens, the sweetest one yet for him to always witness and count him as the luckiest man on this earth to have someone like her to be his

“Welcome home,Kyōjurō. And happy birthday.”

he was silent for a few seconds more,before a wide grin breaks out as his expression,

“I'm home my love.”

Bonus Ending:

Rengoku stare at her back who stood by the kitchen counter,still busying herself by washing the dishes by the sink since half an hour ago after everyone left.

He remembers Sanemi had to dragged Tengen’s drunk figure back to his home,of course after multiple more curses for him. Giyuu is also surprisingly a light drinker because judging the red colour on his face,he looks about to passed out if it weren't for Shinobu to hide the sake away from his sight.

Maybe because of the ruckus she somehow made it big,even Oyakata-sama sent a letter via crow to congratulate his birthday which is more than a privilege he received from him.

He chuckles to himself,gaining the attention from the woman who takes a gander over her shoulder

“What's so funny?”

“Hm? Nothing! i am just simply thinking i am the happiest man alive right now!” Rengoku replied from where he was sitting by the floor near the desk.

“I clearly didn't seen it coming! One minute i was away on a mission,then i came back with the party already waiting for me! It is truly a surprise!” he continue to rambled on,typical him.

But oh how she misses his voice dearly; this house feels too empty whenever he is away for missions especially when his loud and cheerful voice is always the one that enliven the place.

“i'm glad the plan worked,” grinned (y/n),wiping her hands with the towel and that is when Rengoku beckons her to come closer to him.

She obliged happily.He reacher for her hand,pulling her form until she ended up on his lap where she automatically wraps her slender arms around his neck

“Thank you my love,i clearly don't deserve you at all.”

“Are you even listening to yourself? i'm the one who don't deserve you,Kyōjurō.”

“(y/n)?”

“Listen Kyō, you came and approached me in my depressed time;you’re like the sun to my life,you have no idea how thankful i am to look back today that you never gave up on me.” she cradles his face,admiring his handsome and striking features; once in a while her thumb caresses his thick eyebrows lightly

“I love you Rengoku Kyōjurō, and nobody will ever changed my mind.”

He sighs beautifully, as if he had finally found the reason to live on,the reason to become stronger and able to protect the ones he loves and holds dearly

The Flame Pillar runs the back of his calloused fingers across her cheekbone,his turn to admire the beauty she holds;her pair of big doe (e/c) eyes staring into the depth of his heart that seeks for warmth and comfort;for love and passion

“And i love you,(f/n). You're going to regret when i put a ring around your finger!”

She laughs at his sudden outburst, “And why should i?”

“Because you're going to be stuck with me for the rest of your lives!”

“Hmm,” she taps on her own chin, “Doesn't sound like a bad plan.”

He chuckles along with her, “Come here you.”

Rengoku pulls her to close the space between them,tilting their chins to be meet as a soft and gentle kiss, a fiery ones that they always share full of longing and affections.

(y/n) slips some little giggles between their kisses and mingled breaths when he nuzzles his nose against hers, “That tickles.”

When she pulls away,they flash one another a genuine smile and that made Rengoku palce another peck of kiss on her sweet lips before she slump forward to rest her head on his abroad chest. Obsess with listening to the rhythmic beats of his heart as the proofs he is alive and well,his warmth is right here with her and that's never going to leave even if death do them apart.

While he hums a random lullaby cradling her in his lap,he rocks her side to side ever so lightly;his arms secured around her. (y/n) couldn't help but to wander her mind to drift off elsewhere,

“I'm sorry Kyōjurō..”

“Hm? whatever you are apologising for,my darling?”

“....I talked to your Father about the birthday surprise for you.But...”

She couldn't continue because her heart breaks for him. Because the former Flame Pillar somehow does not even acknowledge his own son that any parents would die for. And Rengoku understands that,he takes it all too well that she often cries for him silently if he is just putting a gaily facade to hide his sadness.

“I tried to asked him to come...”

“I know my love,i know.” Rengoku tightens his embrace, placing a kiss on top of her head,

“Your consideration is more than enough for me you know that.Thank you for trying hard for my sake.”

He felt her shook her head,

“The last time i even had them was before my Mother’s death.You reminded me again how it is important to celebrate it with your loved ones.”

Those words were exactly the same as what Senjurō had told her when she first came to his little brother to ask about his consent of throwing a party for him which he cried gleefully at the idea.

Because Kyōjurō deserves it more in this world.

“Then from now on,let's celebrate it together?”

“Of course! Whatever you want,you name it!”

She laughs lightly, “That reminds me, Senjurō seems very comfortable around the trio.”

“You mean Kamado boy and his friends? they do,don't they!” he recalls his little brother having the laugh of his time earlier when Tanjirou is the first one to asked him sit with them.

“Did you see Inosuke gobbles up the whole tempura dishes? it was insane.” she added again,

“Oh oh and Giyuu’s keep on mumbling something about daikon and salmon! It was too cute! I think even Sanemi—”

Rengoku watches her continue,his sunset hues softens so as his heart.

“Someday,you will find yourself a fitting figure to be worthy of holding the Rengoku name in your sake.Someone who will hold your heart as if she was holding her own.”

He remembers his Mother’s words as vividly as her appearance.

Ah,he really doesn't deserve a goddess like her

“..i think in fact Obanai really likes—hmphf!”

Her lips were sealed when the Flame Pillar leans down and started kissing her feverishly,hanging the unspoken words in the air and stole them away.

“Kyōjurō..!” she warned,though blushing to the tips of her ears.

“You can't just kissed me like that!”

“But you’re too adorable! I can't help it!’

She snorted, slapping the side of his arm, “That hurts..” then rubbing the lower of her lip

Rengoku chuckles, one hand went over the back of her waist,ready to lower her down to the floor slowly

“I'm sorry,shall we try again?”

(y/n) laughs, “We shall.”

Upon the view, his back is eating her but her arms welcome his weight on her,accepting his heat bleeding into her skin. Raking her fingers through his unruly bright yellow locks,twirling them once in a while with her index finger.

“Happy birthday Kyōjurō.” she whispers against his lips.

Maybe tonight,he finally gets what he wants as a gift instead.

Best birthday ever indeed.

Happy Birthday to our sweetest and precious Flame Pillar ♡

I love him so much that it hurts sobs ;; i’d sell my soul to muzan to have him back

#kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #kny kyojuro #rengoku kyoujurou #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku kyōjurō #kny rengoku #rengoku brothers #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu anime #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi

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ill-skillsgard · 4 years

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It’s my birthday and I didn’t really get to celebrate cause my family and I aren’t close and can’t see my friends cause of Covid. If you have the time would you write about you smoking with Axel and he’s surprised it’s your birthday. To be sweet he gets a gas station treat and match for you and sings happy birthday? Btw I adore your writing and I hope you’re doing well

Happy belated birthday! I’m sorry I’m no good at time-sensitive prompts. I hope you had a good day despite not being able to hang out with your loved ones. If it’s any consolation, I didn’t get to do much for my birthday this Summer either. Lol 2020 shouldn’t even count!

Grey skies and rain dampened your mood, and it was already sour to begin with. You waited under the overhang for the rain to pass, but it didn’t seem to have any intention of easing up. You sighed and lit the cigarette that had been hanging from your lips for about a minute. Several feet away, a door opened, and Axel stepped out, his own smoke jutting from his mouth. He grimaced at the miserable weather, but that faded quickly when his eyes set on you.

“Hey, fancy meeting you here.”

You and Axel worked in the same plaza, often running into each other on smoke breaks. He was a chatty fellow and told some wickedly funny stories that made you bust a gut but also fear for his life and sanity. He was sweet, and the more time you spent looking at him, the bigger your crush grew.

Sometimes you tried to go out when you suspected Axel might be out back, and most of the time, you were right. One of your favourite encounters with Axel was when he bummed a smoke off you, then came into your work several hours later to pay you back. Even though you insisted there was no payback required, Axel was adamant you take the smoke and an extra as compensation for your generosity.

“Hey, Axel,” you sighed.

“Why so glum, chum?” He asked.

You shrugged your shoulders. Explaining to him why you weren’t in the best of spirits seemed like a waste of breath, but he came closer to you, eyes wide and curious.

“Ah, it’s nothing huge. It’s just... I’m working my birthday, and it sucks.”

Axel puffed on his cigarette, talking through a lungful of smoke. “When’s your birthday?”

“Today.”

“Today?” He exclaimed. “Man, that does suck. I can’t believe that. Birthdays should be like holidays. You should get it off and still get paid.”

You chuckled at the idea, but it wasn’t the silliest thing you’d ever heard. “It’s not a milestone or anything. But it would have been nice if any of my friends called and offered to take me out or something. I dunno, maybe I’m getting too old to expect stuff like that.”

“Nah,” Axel seethed smoke from his nose. “I fully believe a person should get one day a year where they’re more special than anyone else... Well, besides anyone who shares the same birthday.”

You grinned up at him. If your break wasn’t ending so soon, you’d have spent more time talking to him, staring at his curious eyes and committing his arm tattoos to memory. But you already knew luck wasn’t on your side today, so you excused yourself and headed back inside.

“Hey, you finished at six today?” He asked before you left through the back door.

“Yeah, I am,” you replied.

“Okay. Well, happy birthday. I hope the day goes by quickly for you.”

“Thanks, Axel. I’ll see you later.”

And later you did. The rain had stopped as the sun began to set, and Axel was leaning on the hood of his car, parked next to yours. You thought he meant to say goodbye and maybe wish you a happy birthday once more until you noticed a Hostess chocolate cupcake in his hand.

“Hey, kiddo. I don’t know if you like chocolate or vanilla, so if you don’t want this, I have Twinkies too,” he explained, stuffing the blunt end of a coloured candle into the top, cracking the fondant.

Your heart dropped into a pool of warm, sticky sweetness. He lit the end with his plastic lighter and hummed the birthday song as he presented you with the treat.

“I won’t assault your ears with my awful singing voice, but I thought you deserved some acknowledgement on your name day.”

“Wow,” you said. “That’s so nice of you... Really. I can’t believe this.”

“It was hardly any effort. I just jetted over to the gas station for smokes and saw the greeting cards. Most of them were super lame, and this is probably pretty close to corny too, but oh well. I hated seeing your face looking so sad.”

You stared at the flame for a moment, but the rumble of thunder overhead made you both look to the sky.

“Quickly, make a wish before the rain comes down again.”

Smiling, you closed your eyes, wished for more time with Axel, then blew out the candle.

“Yay! Happy birthday!” He sang, handing you the cupcake.

When you said your goodbyes, you turned around and saw your front left tire was flat. You cursed, and it caught Axel’s attention before he ducked into his vehicle.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” He asked.

You pointed at the sorry state of your tire. “I have a goddamn flat. Today is just... Not my day.”

“Shit, darlin’,” He said, then snapped his fingers. “Hey, my buddy owns a towing company. I can take you home, have him tow it over, then first thing in the morning, I’ll fix ‘er up for you.”

“You don’t have to do that, Axel. Really. That’s like way too nice.”

“It’s your freaking birthday. And if I’m honest, I kinda wanted to ask you to hang out anyway, and now the universe has presented me with the perfect opening.”

You both smirked at each other. Axel’s cheeks turned pink.

“Unless you don’t want to. But I can still get that tow for you, pro bono.”

You shook your head. The day had been too rough on you, and you owed yourself a good time. “You know what... Yeah. I want to hang out with you.”

“Really?” He cocked his head. “I mean... Yeah, I’d love that.”

#axel cluney imagine #bill skarsgard imagine #axel on your birthday

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well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now · 4 years

Note

I have a question for you! As it is the lovely Mammoney's birthday coming up, what would your MC give the boys for their birthday?

This actually became a lot longer than I expected because I couldn't help writing minifics whoops and ahh asks about my MC make me happy cause I rarely get to talk about them specifically

Note; despite the typical idea you'd get from their name Eliza is neither white or western or a girl. All the relationships except the one with Mammon are just platonic✌ lemme know what you think cause feedback (either good or bad) is my only fuel

Lucifer

Lucifer gets a #1 MOM mug but also the day after his bday he gets Eliza asking Diavolo if he could let Lucifer off work for the day and dragging the rest of the brothers out of the house while making Lucifer promise he'll take a nap.

"Are you ordering me?"

"Well I mean...yeah? Not - not in a," they wiggled their fingers in front of them "pacty way. Just in a concerned friend way."

"And if I don't?"

"Well Diavolo went through all the trouble of taking on your work load... He'd be terribly disappointed if nothing came of it."

Lucifer had to stamp down the twitch of fond amusement that threatened to show on his face, "Are you trying to manipulate me?"

"No, I am manipulating you. Because it's working."

He gave them a dubious look.

"It is working. Right?"

With a sigh he said, "It's working."

"Great!" They pressed forward to give him a tight brief hug whispering "Happy Birthday Lucifer" before they were moving away, running off to presumably gather his brothers. "Remember," Eliza yelled over their shoulder, "Sleep!"

Mammon

The day of Mammon's birthday he gets a scavenger hunt. He grumbles at first but the lure of the prize at each location has him solving the riddles in seconds. Eliza trots after him to each location. The gifts, though there are a lot of them aren't anything big or overly expensive, a keychain with a little crow at the end of it, a bright gold cover for his D.D.D., A tote bag just so he could put the rest of his gift in it, that one choker/collar he had been eyeing a few days ago, a few of the old Disney princess movies because he got really into Cinderella, a warm scarf and set of mittens for the colder months because they know he prefers the warmth, a new pair of sunglasses, a new pair of earrings/studs, nail polish. But it's the little notes attached to them that's killing him.

"It's cute like you!" "Ik your eyes aren't gold but I always think of shining gold when I think of them. Maybe because they are so precious?" "I love you" "I saw you staring at it. You probably thought you'd look hot in it. You're right." "Did you know meeting you made me believe in happily ever afters?" "This one's pretty selfish because seeing you happy and comfortable makes me happy" "This one's a joint gift. I'll need to borrow them because you light up the room" "You deserve the best things because you're the best" "Have I told you I love you" "Stop solving these riddles so fast! I spent a lot of time trying to find the hard ones and now you're making me look dumb! Plus my legs are hurting."

The words of the last note blurred a bit as he tried to discreetly sniff. He'd been holding back tears since the second note, not that he'd ever let the human know (they knew). He wasn't sure why this was the one that broke him.

"Mammon?"

He turns to Eliza slowly. Making sure he doesn't crush the note.

They're panting slightly, from having to run up and down the whole house after him, but they smile brightly when he meets their eyes. "Seriously man, slow down for us weaker beings yeah?"

Then Mammon does something he rarely does. He makes the first move. He shoots forward to envelope them in a hug. They yelp at the sudden movement but immediately fold their arms around him.

They're almost the same height, something Eliza loves to hold over him, so it's easy for them to shift back and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I love you."

That just makes him sniff harder and burrow further into their shoulder, "Said that twice already," he mumbles between hiccuping little sobs.

"Dunno what to tell you, Mammon but I love you a whole lot. Just once won't work"

"... l - love ya too dummy..."

"There's one more riddle."

The last one simply says "Happy Birthday, Mammon."

"What's the gift?" He asks, looking around his room where the last riddle had led them.

The click of the lock and the wicked look on their face says it all.

*If you think the notes were cheesy Eliza absolutely cringed while writing them and had to take breaks to go scream in their pillow because of how sappy they were, but Mammon liked this kind of cheesy and it doesn't mean they weren't 100% sincere.*

Levi

For Levi they hunt down Simeon, trailing after him begging, negotiating and making deals.

"I-is this - this isn't - h-how - there isn't any - ELIZAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!" He launches himself at them, still holding the little book. "I LOVE YOU!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ELIZA! I - " He pauses, seeming to finally register his words and jumping away, hand flying to cover his flaming face "I! That doesn't mean! I didn't mean it like -"

"Love you too," they say easily.

And that has Levi blushing even more and trying to hide his face while mumbling something about 'normies'.

"Do you like it?"

"LIKE IT!? How'd you get it! This! This isn't even supposed to exist!"

"Ah I spoke to Simeon, he wrote it just for your birthday. They're only a collection of short stories though."

"FOR MY BIRTHDAY!? A LIMITED EDITION!? NO! NOT EVEN A LIMITED EDITION, AN IMPOSSIBLE ONE THAT SHOULDN'T EVEN EXIST!"

"...happy birthday Levi?"

"I LOVE YOU!"

"Love you too."

Satan

For Satan Eliza follows both Diavolo and Lucifer around, once again begging, pleading and bargaining. Diavolo agrees pretty quickly, it's Lucifer they take a week to convince

"Where are we going exactly?"

"You'll see."

"And how exactly did you manage to convince them to let us into the human world?"

"Uhm.."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

He chuckles softly, gently bumping them with his elbow he asks, "At least tell me where we are."

"Well this is where my mother was from. She was the one who was Lilith's descendant."

"It's not the same as where you lived?"

Eliza flushes at his use of the past tense. "Nope. It's funny though... "

"What is?"

"The first people who lived, the natives, the name of their clan translated to 'Demon'. They even had a Demon King. Ah, not sure how much of that is actual history and how much has been twisted through time but. It's an odd little coincidence don't you think?"

"Amid the action and reaction of so dense a swarm of humanity, every possible combination of events may be expected to take place, and many a little problem will be presented which may be striking and bizarre..."

"Don't quote your detective at me."

Satan laughs. "What happened to them? In your history?"

"Well it's a bit of a long story, it's not exactly a fair one either."

"History so rarely is. It's always told through the mouths of the survivors, the winners, it rarely gets a chance to be fair, to be anything more than fiction peppered with fact." His eyes are fixed firmly on the sky.

Eliza looks up with him, staring at the cloudless blue sky.

He shakes himself out of it with a chuckle, "That doesn't mean I'm not interested in hearing it. Quite the opposite actually." He smiles sweetly at them.

Eliza grins back. "I actually managed to get us a few days here. There are lots of ruins all around the country, they're not from that original clan but they're still really old and kind of amazing. We won't be able to visit all of them but it's still something."

"It is. Thank you, Eliza. It means a lot that I'd be able to learn something new and that you're sharing this with me."

Still grinning they hug him gently.

He wraps his arms around them

"Is this the part where you wish me?"

"It is. Happy Birthday, Satan."

*Anyway this is part of our actual history and even though I haven't really decided where Eliza is from this felt fitting? The detective quote is taken straight from Sherlock Holmes*

Asmo

"Elizaaa~ This is so sweet! Ahh, I love it! I love you!!"

Eliza couldn't help the soft laugh as Asmo clung on to them, rubbing their cheeks together and enveloping them in the sweet scent of his perfume.

"How did you know I needed this?"

"Well, living with six brothers anyone would need a weekend spa retreat away from them."

"You're right, Eliza! You're so right! They're the worst and it's even started to affect my skin! I needed some me time."

"Well... It's actually a coupon for two..."

Asmo blinked at them looking down at it and yes it was a coupon for two.

"You know, just in case you wanna..." they did a ridiculous eyebrow wiggle that had him giggling.

"Well then, Dear. How about a weekend spa treatment with me? Hmm?"

Eliza blushed, stumbling back and stuttering, "That's not - I - you know - I'm just - I - "

He watches them stutter, with an amused smile before he mercifully cuts in "I know you're set on that idiot brother of mine. Lord knows why, he's such a mess and I'm much prettier. You know I love you Eliza but you really do have terrible taste."

At their scowl he giggles, "But you love him, and you look out for him and you make him happy and he does all that for you too. And, well that's all that matters, isn't it?"

They're a bit red again, but they're smiling at him softly and looking at him with such love in their eyes, it makes a gentle sort of warmth spread through him.

"No, what I meant was not everyone in my family has been driving me crazy recently and you look like you could use a weekend off too. I can tell you embarrassing stories about Mammon from back in the Celestial Realm, if that sweetens the deal? Unless," now that he thought about it, "that makes you uncomfortable!? Ah! Eliza, I'm so sorry I didn't even think! I know you don't like this kind of thing, that's okay I'll ask So-"

"No, wait Asmo it's fine. I don't mind it, if it's with you."

Asmo blinked. The warmth spread. Then he flung himself at them again, "Elizaaaaa, don't say things like that and expect me not to react!"

They laughed, easily catching him in their arms, "Happy Birthday, Asmo."

Beel & Belphie

With Beel & Belphie Eliza leads them into the attic and locks the door behind them.

"Are you going to kill us here?"

"Haha. Funny."

Belphie laughed lightly, and Eliza could almost hear Beel's frown as commonplace as it was when the topic was brought up. Not wanting to keep Beel in any type of discomfort they reached out with that flicker of magic in them and a muttered spell and lit the fairy light like little lamps that hung across the room.

"You're getting better at that." Belphie said, eyes on them and looking impressed.

Beel hummed and agreed, looking proud.

"I know." Their chest puffed out a bit and the twins laughed.

Letting the moment fade they swept their hands, gesturing at the rest of the room. "So what do you think?"

The furniture had all been moved to the sides, the blankets and pillows from the room along with many, many additional ones were all piled strategically on the floor, making a large nest like structure. The outer structure of the nest was lined with various boxes and packets of different kinds of snacks and drinks. On the wooden floor in front of the nest was a large cake decorated in warm oranges and cool purples.

"I made it!" They said, proudly before deflating a second later "Well Luke made it, he wanted to do something nice for Beel's birthday but I stood around and licked the raw batter so that counts?... There's also a handheld vacuum for crumbs." They gestured at the side.

"It looks good," Beel said with a nod. "Smells good. I'm hungry."

Belphie tilted his head, "So your present for us is our sins?"

Eliza bristled, "No. That's just the setting, next is the accessories."

"Accessories?" Beel asked softly, still eyeing the cake, only held back by the firm grip that both Eliza and Belphie had on his hands.

"Accessories." Eliza moved away to a corner, returning while juggling two wrapped gift.

"It's that manga of Levi's that you like, it's the full published series so you don't need to keep borrowing it." Turning to Beel, "pyjamas. Large oversized thick and comfy pyjamas. I washed them too so that they would smell nice and wouldn't be scratchy. So this is your present: A sleepover, cuddled together under the blankets, in large comfortable clothes, eating junk food and reading manga where none of your brothers can interrupt." Eliza stopped for a breath, their proud smile dimming a bit, "I guess your presents are your sins..."

"No. They're not." Beel said firmly. Hands already unbuckling his pants and sliding them down. He changed his clothes quickly with no care for either of his audience who, to his credit, failed to react. He folded the old ones and placed them in a corner while Belphie removed his boots.

"They're not," Beel said again looking straight at Eliza, "They're quality time doing things we love with the people we love, without having to worry about anything else." He walks up to them, enfolding them in a warm, soft hug. "Thank you, Eliza."

"Right, right. Our sins are part of it because those are things we enjoy. But they're not the actual gift. Like you said it's the settings and accessories that make the actual gift. And that's spending time together without any of those idiots interrupting us for once."

"It's a good gift." Beel said, as Belphie slid into the hug. Beel lifted them both off their feet as they clung to him.

"Happy Birthday guys," Eliza said through their laughter.

"Love you," they both said in unison.

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