#I knew he was mad about the machine breaking but 1. It’s been weird for a fucking minute & 2. It is not anyone’s fault

[haunted-catboy]

Being real right now, I’m so mad/anxious that I feel like I could easily throw up not even kidding

#Every dinner with my dad lately has left me feeling fucking nervous #I knew he was mad about the machine breaking but 1. It’s been weird for a fucking minute & 2. It is not anyone’s fault #And then the fucking audacity to insinuate that my mom is responsible for him banging his head on car when he brought old clothes to donati #Place instead of the trash #Fucking yelling at my sister BECAUASE we said “can you please stop yelling she has a test tomorrow” #& justifying berating everyone my mom esp bc that he’s stressed too #Meanwhile I fucking saw my toe open on some broken planks months back not only did he not check to see why I was screaming in pain #But he gets mad at my mom for saying that we should fix the fucking floors!!! #I feel fucking helpless and I might delete this when I feel more embarrassed & guilty about it but y'all the situation is bad #I should fucking leave. I should but I'm scared to but I fucking SHOULD #My sympathies for the man go only so far when he makes my mom’s life miserable & his mood shifts on a dime depending on if feels slighted

[shutthyface]

Bendy and the Dark Revival Playthrough Thoughts:

Imma post my raw dog thoughts on Bendy and the Dark Revival as I play (currently in chapter 1), I shall bury the spoilers so continue at your own risk, I will also be completely honest about my opinions on everything, my qualifications are my 100% achievement score for Bendy and the Ink Machine and a deep adoration for the entire Bioshock series (yes, this is relevant)

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Okay, here we go:

- first impression, hand animations are a lil weird but I can get past it

- Audrey is adorable, her winged liner is pretty thicc

- I knew a jumpscare was coming in that hallway but did it stop me from screaming? no.

- "Who put this here?" YESSIR LOVE THAT THROWBACK THANK YOU

- ALSO after coming back for the key you get a nice view of the signed photo of Bendy from Henry 🥺 So cute I can't even

- cut to me continuously ramming my body into the first Boris the Wolf poster throughout different points in the walkthrough area because I was looking for Meatly... (he was not there 😭)

-I hate Wilson, as a character, and I'm confused at his importance. But I also hate him as a person, as he makes me v uncomfortable (well done on that part)

- ahhh yes, the Ink Machine activation. I wish it wasn't so similar, maybe the podiums set up in different areas of the museum room like exhibits would have been a nice recollection without being exactly the same

- ohohoh, is that a Bioshock Infinite baptism I see? And a title screen eerily similar to the Bioshock logo. Not complaining really, I honestly miss the feeling of Rapture

•∆ Entering Chapter 1 ∆•

- PIPER I KNEW YOU WERE THERE AND YET??? SCARY

- Alice could have explained a bit more, I also feel like there's a lot of things I need to explore but can't yet, I love exploration and collection

- Gent Pipe is coming back and we gotta hide from these squishy men, so far so good. Really enjoying the new hiding mechanics, feels much more like a classic horror game, more immersive and anxiety building

- these ink men and women are getting rekt, cool that you can loot from their bodies

- puzzles BAYBEEE gotta love em, the first one is pretty easy to find but it almost feels like there's more to see there later?

- ooo we have another Bioshock-esque gameplay tool, sending ink creatures back to the ink puddles, like removing the adam from little sisters. Not sure if it will have an impact on ending or anything like that, but it adds a nice choice to more sneaky routes than head on aproaches

- I don't know what I expected but mr.hang-in-there editor made me feel more uncomfortable than I thought it would lmao

- BABY BENDY 😭 he's soooo cute and his LIL ANIMATED FACES!!!! i can't believe he was just chillin there all smol and adorable

- Audrey gotta be careful with that power she hurt the baby 🥺

- "do not knock" audrey: hmm .... this won't stop me, I can't read

- not the Ink Demon appearing and TALKING???? HELLO??? SIR?? 🥵🤒

- 😳😳😳 "sweet name to devour" lord almighty

- his new form is SICK, I LOVE the glove/white animation spots peaking through the ink, the multi horns, ugh so cool I want a better look 😩

•∆ Entering Chapter 2 ∆•

- Ink Demon: "You were born from it", me: "MOLDED BY IT!"

- I no longer enjoy the hiding mechanic because I am now more scared

-OOOH it tells me when he's coming, that I enjoy, thank the lord 😩✋

- I like these lil drawings mr. no-knock did, they're so cute! I think the Ink Demon likes em too that's why he's angry I'm collecting em 😮‍💨

- me after collecting the fifth drawing: damn he MAD mad he wanted those sketches bad 😳

- bro mr. no-knock attacking me after collecting his shit is NOT the vibe how DARE you sir

- the ink demon literally was about to attack me when I was writing that last thought, I thought I was about to have a break but NOPE not only did I almost die I almost pissed myself that was TERRIFYING

- I am now constantly on edge and I feel like mr. ink demon is coming for me at any second

- good news I haven't died yet, bad news my heart rate is goin NUTS

- second puzzle, finished, and Ink Demon only visited once! Yay!

- "come say hello" h mm don't mind if I do

- audrey: *crackin open this big ass spotlit box*; me: no no no no no; box: scary ass shy-guy-esque lady; me: noooo no no no...; audrey: *turns away to hide in barrel, turns back and box is empty*; me: NOOOOOOO THANK YOUUUUUU

- dude F*CK THAT GHOST B*TCH she scared my entire TIT off and made me slam my knee into my desk WTF is that 😭

- I survived the shy-guy-lady, thank the lord, but I had to run like hell and murder the lost ones in the area. I hope I grabbed all the collectables 😭

- Winnie the Porter stuck in the pipe is pretty adorable and I love him

- down the rabbit hole we go, I guess!

- NOT PORTER RENAMING ME 😭 AND A GIFT!

- oh my gosh I was thinking the glowing hand reminded me of Dishonored and now we can fuggin SHIFT just like Dishonored, love that

- the menus looked pretty familiar too, now I can't help but see little Dishonored pockets everywhere

- dude so many squishy lost ones how am I supposed to deal, I have realized I should not have eaten every snack I came across before 😭

- it's time for a break, I'm currently in the locker rooms for anyone curious, I'll come back sometime tomorrow for more thoughts ;)

#bendy and the dark revival #bendy and the dark revival spoilers #spoilers #bendy the dancing demon #bendy and the ink machine #bendy #bendytheinkdemon #dark revival #batim #batdr

[movedtodykedvonte]

Maybe Allison Pendle for the headcanon thing? I’m really curious by the way you view her (I view her the same way)

Honestly I really just wish she wasn't so boring. Other than her being the thing that triggers Susie becoming Malice she has no real reason for me to care about her character as that's the reason she's important in the first place. Like she's just given the role of instigator in Susie's downfall and it feels so empty. I think this is the first time I was actually serious and critical of a character in a headcanon post.

Born in 1903 (didn't die but was warped/inked in 1960 at 57)

From a fairly bohemian family who were upper class, not fuck you rich like Nathan became but the Pendles were known in high society

Kinda that generational wealth that she never really bothered to look into how they kept it (it was oil)

Not a bratty kid but always thought she knew what was best for the world and was just a bit sheltered on social issues

Was a private school kid and stayed in these circles up until she worked for the studio

Formal training in the arts and is a triple threat

Definitely, the type to say "I feel bad because I hurt you" rather than acknowledging your feelings first, she still means well

I'm just trying to get across that she is very innocently insensitive

Her parents did instill to never look down on people who lived a different lifestyle than her and Allison positively took it as "I will befriend every living, breathing soul on this fucking planet"

Doesn't want to be worshipped but can feel insecure when someone doesn't come around to liking/trusting her Susie pls be my friend why could you ever be mad at me

Got into broadway/acting because she liked all the characters she could be, like she was walking in a different life for a bit

Met Joey at a party and liked how odd he was and thought his philosophy was strange and new but concerning

They are like weird besties due to both kinda being way to optimistic but at opposite ends of the spectrum

Knew Susie but thought Susie understood the cutthroat nature of acting and thought all her comments were the like "break a leg" type encouragement in regards to the role

Also didn't know Susie felt it was her last chance as something big as Allison worked on so many things she thought Susie (4 years younger) had a lot of time and options left

Developed a small crush on Thomas after he complimented her singing, saying "You make that cartoony crude sound bearable" it was not a flirt but seeing as Thomas rivaled Sammy in surliness it might as well have been

Cue never getting rid of me from the waitress soundtrack

Dated for years before they finally decide to get hitched

Married discreetly, with just immediate Family and close friends

Allison hoped the invite to Joey would cool any bad blood.

Starting working at Arch Gate because she kinda missed VA work as it allowed her to really be a different character

Joey invited them to his apartment under the guise of wanting to apologize to Thomas and ignored Thomas' warnings that it was odd Joey waited this long and sprung it so suddenly

listen to ur husband you pick me

Cue walking into the ink machine room with an encantation ring like the end of chapter 1 and them being inked and thrown in

Allison Angel

She can't remember much besides Tom's name as the ink is even stronger with all the souls, considering it almost made her a perfect Alice

Her dress is messed up like that cause Allison P. always new to never get too attached to a role

Also because Alice was never really her character and she knew she wasn't her in return

Doesn't like Malice due to all the pain she causes but really wants to help her change feels guilt for being what she wants to achieve

The lost ones and her don't get along due to her looking too much like Malice they fuck with Tom though

Her sword was a part of one of the bendyland rides and she took it as it seemed easier and lighter to use

Sings only when she's alone as it sounds too much like Malice and unnerves Tom and the few lost ones that won't outright attack her

Doesn't hang around Sammy but does deliver him and the lost one spare soup when she and Tom have enough

I support the take she only hyped up Henry in hopes he'd get them out, she believed he could but the quickness to trust him was based on something selfish

I really kinda view her as someone who always tried to play a neutral party but when one party is objectively in the wrong or bad she still stayed neutral. In my eyes that makes you a part of the bad party as you don't stop that behavior. Don't think she's evil or even an anti-hero, she just seems sheltered and way too optimistic for anyone good.

#girl be mean for once #like I just dont trust her #allison pendle #allison angel #batim #batim headcanons #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #batdr #loath characters that fuck everyone over cause they want to see the rainbow after the storm #im slowly putting her into that category and I want to stop #ask #anon

[earth-b0y]

Min's Diary

There’s a diary here, full of private things Min wouldn’t dare tell anyone else. Will you open it?

[The following text is translated from its original script into English. Some of the words are crossed out, so aggressively in places that the pen pierced through to the next page, and there are blotches where the ink must have gotten wet here and there.]

20/11/21

Okay, I’m not really sure how you’re supposed to start a journal, so I guess I’ll just write whatever comes into my head.

Maya said I should keep one of these to help me deal with all the garbage feelings that come up every time I think about… what happened. It was shitty, unfair, and fuck, inside I feel so, so rotten.

Most of the time, I wanted to kill him. But…

S̵o̷m̷e̶t̸i̸m̴e̷s̸,̸ ̶a̶r̶o̴u̶n̴d̵ ̴M̶o̵r̷g̵a̸n̷,̴ ̶I̷ ̷j̶u̷s̶t̸ ̶w̶a̸n̵t̸e̷d̷ ̸h̸i̵m̴ ̵t̴o̵ ̴h̶o̶l̵d̵ ̶m̶e̸.̵ ̴T̸o̴ ̷t̶o̶u̷c̸h̴ ̴m̴e̶.̷ ̶T̸o̷ ̵s̷a̵y̴ ̴t̷h̸a̵t̵ ̶I̵'̷v̶e̷ ̸b̵e̴e̵n̸ ̸g̶o̴o̸d̴,̷ ̷t̸h̸a̸t̵ ̵e̵v̸e̷r̵y̴t̵h̴i̸n̵g̷ ̵w̴a̶s̷ ̷g̴o̴i̵n̸g̴ ̶t̷o̸ ̸b̸e̶ ̸o̷k̵a̷y̷.̸

I hate myself for thinking those things.

I’m such a fucking loser.

Why, why, WHY did I trust him? I should have known what would happen. But Morgan knew just what to say to make me think he wouldn’t…

But he did.

And it took me so long to work up the nerve to just kill him. The worst part is, I don’t really feel… guilty about it. But the feeling is sort of like… regret? Morgan’s gone. He can’t hurt me anymore. But at the same time… those times that were kind of nice… they haunt me. A̴n̸d̶ ̵I̴ ̶w̵a̶n̶t̵ ̶t̴h̴e̵m̸ ̸b̵a̸c̷k̵.̷ ̵I̵ ̸m̵i̶s̸s̸ ̶h̶i̷m̸.̶ I wish I never met him.

This is awful.

I want to talk to someone about it, like Maya, or Sparkles, but they would think I’m weird or crazy or gross.

So I guess I’ll just have to keep this journal to myself.

17/1/22

I hate how he always manages to remind me of him. Him. I can barely even bring myself to write his fucking name.

Morgan. Fucking. Hughes.

Why is that so hard? It’s just a name. His name. God, I want him. I miss him I miss his cooking. That’s the only compliment I could ever give the man; his food was really good.

Besides that, he was terrifying, and he liked to be theatrical with how terrifying he was. There were times when I really thought he was going to kill me, but… I guess if I didn’t make him mad, he wouldn’t have had to hurt me. What would it have been like if I didn’t fight him all the time? Maybe he would have been nicer, like he was sometimes…

He made me watch all kinds of things on TV with him; I think seeing how I’d react was just another… experiment. But when he could tell I was really tired and could barely stay awake, he’d get so… gentle. Ruffle my hair, let me fall asleep on his shoulder… It’s those moments that I just-

Ugh.

I don’t understand myself anymore. This guy is bringing it back out of me, and it hurts.

02/05/2022

I’ve made people worry about me again. I didn’t think it was so obvious that the wires in my head were fraying- figuratively, I mean. Going numb, being a robotic asset that just does its job feels so much easier until someone points out what’s happening, and then I feel so conflicted.

Humans are born to be whatever they want to be, while I don’t have that liberty. I was created to be trained and directed on what to do; I’m a tool before an individual- a resource, a means to an end, and that’s what I’ll always be. My genetics were arranged for optimization, and I’m full of mechanical parts to function more effectively. I’m not designed to be a person; I’m designed to do what has to be done.

Being raised with this doctrine has prepared me for my current position. But there are times believing it makes me feel… guilty, for some reason. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. They have hopes that I won’t become a ‘machine’ entirely, but being a 'machine’ will secure my effectiveness as an Overseer. I can make Earth a better place, and isn’t that a good thing?

This place is going to break me.

#Archived #Broken Chains #The Machine #Imperium #[visible to muses and anons] #[If more diary entries are written they will be placed here for a full collection] #tw kidnapping #tw stockholm syndrome

[therealvinelle]

Tucker and Dale and Aro vs. Evil

So, I wrote this meta explaining what the Volturi’s failure to stop Victoria looked like to the Cullens, tonight I write my theory on why this was allowed to happen. Well, the way this meta ended up I write a bunch of theories, and debunk them one by one until we arrive at the one true theory that I think makes sense.

Now, one thing is clear: Jane had orders not to stop Victoria’s army. We know that for sure. The question is who gave it.

Theory: Aro was behind it

Aro gave Jane the order to let Victoria’s army wreak havoc in Seattle for months because he wished the Cullens harm.

Before we get into any of the different scenarios trying to figure out what motive Aro would have, or why Aro would even do such a thing, I’ll remind readers that in New Moon, Edward broke the law in the middle of Volterra. Alice then brought a human who knew about vampires into the palace. Aro had every justification to punish them, yet he let them all go. This was an act of generosity. For this theory to be true, Aro would have to do a complete 180 in the two months that passed between St. Marcus’ Day and Jane’s deployment to Seattle.

Scenario 1: Aro wanted Alice (and Edward, according to Edward)

Relevant meta. TL;DR, Edward brings nothing to the table, Alice doesn’t bring a lot either. This scenario depends on Aro not realizing as much.

Now, he is very excited about Alice’s gift, and would love for her to join, that is true. However, he saw all her thoughts, all that she is, he knows her better than anybody in the world. He knows her limitations as well as she does. Would recruiting her be worth letting a newborn army reign in Seattle?

Let’s assume that Aro thinks Alice is worth all of this. Why would he let the newborns attack the Cullens, when there was a chance Alice would be killed? Edward too, for that matter, assuming Aro wanted him. A recruitment plan that breaks your own law and endangers the life of your recruit-to-be could only be explained by madness or else stupidity. And Aro is not stupid.

Assuming that Aro is mad, there’s the damning argument: Chelsea wasn’t part of the team. 

(And yes, I know for sure she wasn’t part of the team. There were five Volturi, and they’re described as follows: 

I knew it would be Jane in the front — the darkest cloak, almost black, and the smallest figure by more than two feet. (Eclipse, page 331)

Jane is 4′8″, Chelsea is 5′3″. Now, Felix is 6′7″, so Bella’s estimate is a tiny bit off, but Chelsea is a tiny woman a mere seven inches taller than Jane. Bella couldn’t have mistaken that for being two feet. So, Chelsea wasn’t present.)

When Aro wants to recruit someone, he sends Chelsea. He did not send Chelsea in Eclipse.

I hereby declare the theory that Aro didn’t interfere because he wanted to recruit Alice debunked.

Scenario 2: Aro wanted to destroy the Cullens

If Aro wanted the Cullens dead, they would be dead. He has an elite force of killing machines. There’s no need for newborn armies in Seattle.

The movie tries to explain the fact that Aro hasn’t moved against them with the fact that Alice would know. Well, the movie is dumb. What would it matter if she knew? The dead don’t speak. Alice could try alerting other vampires to the tragic impending fate of the Cullens, but this wouldn’t save her. More, the Cullens live among humans and presently have a human living among them. Aro could easily make a case if anybody had questions afterwards. He could also just make something up, as Edward is so fond of accusing him of doing.

There’s the PR issue, that Aro’s critics would get a lot of ammunition against him if he executed an innocent coven, but not stopping Victoria was a lot worse for his image. Victoria’s army made international news for weeks on end. It made the Volturi look weak.

Let’s assume, though, that Aro wants the Cullens destroyed, and thought letting a newborn army wreak havoc was a good way of accomplishing this. Bottom line is that he wants them dead.

If that’s the case, then they would have been killed by Jane after the newborn battle.

The world would have been told that the Cullens tragically perished against the newborns, and that it was the Volturi who stopped them. It would have been perfectly plausible, the Cullens are malnourished pacifists who live with humans. No one would bat an eyelid at a coven led by Carlisle Cullen succumbing to a newborn army. They would have, too, if it weren’t for the shapeshifters.

So, Jane’s orders don’t match up with this scenario.

And then there’s the matter of what Aro’s motive would even be.

We see in New Moon and again in Breaking Dawn that he cherishes his friendship with Carlisle. Now, Aro is capable of killing what he loves, but that’s when backed into a corner (he was going to lose Marcus, Carlisle had created an immortal child). Carlisle in Eclipse was minding his own business and not backing anybody into any corners.

This exchange in particular comes to mind:

“But how can your intent possibly matter, dear Carlisle, in the face of what you have done?” He frowned, and a shadow of sadness crossed his features—whether it was genuine or not, I could not tell. 

“I have not committed the crime you are here to punish me for.” 

“Then step aside and let us punish those responsible. Truly, Carlisle, nothing would please me more than to preserve your life today.” (Breaking Dawn, page 434)

This is a lot of things, but it’s not a man who wants Carlisle dead.

(That question of whether his sadness is genuine or not is a great example of unreliable narrating in these books. Aro has no reason to fake sadness, and if he did want to fake it he’d presumably do more than a subtle “shadow of sadness”. However, Bella has been told only terrible things about him and views him as a murderous tyrant, so her first instinct when he displays human emotion is that it can’t be real.)

Let’s assume, though, that something about the Cullens offends Aro so much that he’s willing to kill his best friend over it, and in a particularly roundabout way involving newborn armies at that.

Why would he be arguing in favor of them increasing their numbers in New Moon? Bella was clearly gifted, and yet he wouldn’t let the Cullens leave until he had reassurance that she would be one of them.

I guess his motive would be that the Cullens are a threat, but one wonders how when all these people do is eat deer and play house. They’re weird, but they abide by the law, I imagine far better than most vampires out there. More, they’re led by Carlisle, an infamous pacifist who's friends with Aro.

I don’t see the threat.

And, again, if Aro somehow did, the Cullens would be dead.

Scenario 3: Aro wanted Alice, and to destroy the Cullens

Including this one because I’ve seen variations of it floating around. Aro has so many evil plans, he executes them all at once and hope one will stick.

If he wanted this, he would send Chelsea along, execute the Cullens for harboring human Bella or in any of the ways outlined in scenario 2, and make Alice join him. End of story.

Conclusion: Aro had nothing to do with it

If Aro was behind the Eclipse clusterfuck, there would be no Breaking Dawn because the Cullens would be dead or trapped in Volterra.

However, his life is Tucker and Dale vs. Evil, so he looks really really shady.

And the meta is now thirteen hundred words, so we’re making it a two-parter.

#aro #volturi #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #the eclipse debacle #long post #jane

[psychicdreamfriendoperator]

Going off from the free dating headcanon… how about some for Miguel and Agata? >.<

I’m so happy to see another blog writing for the shishigumi, they’re finally getting the character development they deserved

I'm happy to write for the lovable bastards, though it does seem like there's only 1 or 2 other blogs that write for all of the Shishigumi.

Speaking of blogs, @couldyouspeakmyname is a very nice one ü, please check them out if you haven't already!

I had to keep the word limit in mind (especially since there's 2 characters involved here), so, if this ask wasn't what you wanted, feel free to let me know and I can try again!

— Psychic

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General Dating Headcanons

Agata

Agata has had his fair share of partners. Society makes lions out to be good leaders, and so, many animals begin relationships with them. Agata's a darker-coloured lion, so this effect was multipled for him.

While he did have a “bad boy” phase, Agata is truly a nice person at heart.

That would have been more than enough for others to stay in a relationship with him, had he been born almost any other animal.

He was cheated on a lot by love interests who wanted to make a lion jealous, and by those who expected something . . . more passionate from a relationship with a lion.

As a result, Agata's very clingy, and mayhaps a bit bitter.

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Miguel

Miguel's relationships tend to last 6 months to 1 year, but never much longer than that. He doesn't have much of an interest in relationships, but he's open to love if it finds him first.

Previous lovers had a tendency to sexualise him— this is something that makes Miguel very uncomfortable.

He doesn't mind dirty jokes, etc, but more intimate actions have been partially ruined for him.

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Meeting Them

Agata

It's quite possible that you ran into him at a local community college.

I can imagine Agata taking a course there— perhaps it's related to technology?

It's also quite possible that the both of you shared the same, mandatory class.

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“oh shit oh shit oh shit . . .”

A noise that was more whisper than spoken word. You don't see it, but you can almost taste the anxiety that flows over from your colleague.

Your eyes moved involuntarily over to your left, where a dark-maned lion crawled on his hands and knees, as if searching for something.

You rest your head on your hand. “Looking for something?”

A muffled, “Dropped my pen . . .”

You fished about in your pencil case, pulling out one of your spares. It wasn't nearly as favoured as your gel pens, and, it also wasn't one you would miss if someone were to steal it.

“You can borrow this one . . . just give it back.”

You had never seen someone look so grateful; the expression was genuine, which filled your body with a cosy warmth.

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Miguel

Perhaps you met him at the gym.

Although Miguel had more than enough exercise equipment at the Mansion, he preferred to workout away from the Black Market.

It gave him the chance to organise his thoughts.

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“STAY FIT”— a simple, two word long mantra and a reminder of the New Year’s resolution you wanted to keep.

In order to achieve that goal, you signed yourself up for a gym— it was only a few blocks away on foot. Since it was so close, you were always the first one there . . .

Or rather, you were always the first one there, until recently.

“You must really love working out,” You struck up pleasant conversation whenever the both of you took your breaks. There wasn't anything else to do, really.

The feline, whose mane was tied up neatly behind him, took a swig of his bottled water. “I suppose you could say that.”

It was a curt response, yes, but it was also the start of a wonderful acquaintanceship.

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Growing Closer

Agata

over the course of several weeks, Agata racked up a fine collection of pens— all of them yours, of course.

Somehow, you didn't believe that you would get them back.

It didn't matter much though— you had more than enough to spare.

The pair of you studied together often; either on-campus or back at your place.

His notes were very neat, you noticed.

He divided his pages into three sections; one for definitions, one for summarisations of the text and one for miscellaneous notes.

When you expressed your interest, Agata is more than happy to explain the Cornell Method to you.

You were just pleased that all the pens you lent him hadn't gone to waste.

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Miguel

you actually had to put some effort in before Miguel felt comfortable enough instigating a conversation with you.

In the beginning, you talked to yourself, more or less.

Miguel gave short, curt answers in reply.

You both took note of what subjects the other person was interested in, and then went from there.

Polite conversation made to pass the time became deep and insightful discussions.

Miguel kept a neutral expression when speaking to you, but after a while, his lips curved into a pleasant smile more and more often.

You liked his smile.

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Going Steady

Agata

You didn't notice the way Agata’s hands shook until much later, when you were both reminiscing on how he had asked you out the first time.

You did notice that the lion had a few bags’ worth of stationery with him, though.

“Finally decided to return those pens you borrowed?” You were teasing of course — your friendship with him was such that you didn't care about those trivial things anymore.

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“Let’s go see a movie tonight!”

You blinked once. Twice.

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Then, you cleared your throat. “Ah . . . sure—” You turned around, intending to fetch a jacket. “I’ll just get a coat and—”

“Y-you can borrow mine!”

Thought it was several sizes too large, Agata's jacket was indeed very comfortable.

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Miguel

It just sort of happened.

One thing led to another, really, and soon, the both of you were bouncing ideas back and forth.

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“You're weird,” You snorted, playful as always. With the gentle push of a button, the treadmill belt beneath you began to move.

You thought you saw Miguel smile. He slung his towel over one of the machine's handle bars. “Maybe so, but, aren't you going to answer? It's not hard, right?”

“Well . . .” You clicked your tongue, actually thinking. “I've always wanted to go cycling at the park with someone else.”

“Are you free Thursday?”

You eyed the lion suspiciously, but nodded, “Mhm . . .”

But then, it clicked, “Oh . . .”

It really clicked, and you broke out into a wide grin, nodding up and down quickly.

.

.

.

Dating

Agata

he was very nervous at first, and very, very clingy.

He felt as if he had to keep impressing you, and giving you gifts just to keep you around.

You didn't think much of it at first, but you drew a line when he arranged for a limosuine to drop you off at your agreed rendezvous point.

Where did he even get the money for a limo, anyways?

You called the date off, in favour of talking it out with him.

Though a part of you wanted to let Agata have it, the more sensible part just wanted to know why.

As the both of you stood in the parking lot of the movie theater, you noticed that several pairs of eyes were on you.

You grabbed him by the hand and, after a short walk, came to a more secluded area.

You sighed, and told Agata exactly how you felt.

In turn, he explained his side of the issue.

It wasn't planned for, but you both enjoyed the impromptu heart-to-heart under the stars nonetheless.

It was enjoyed so much so, that neither of you saw the black car which drove away, its scar-faced driver satisfied that Agata could handle things from there.

.

.

Miguel

dating Miguel feels as if you're hanging out with a dear friend — which you were, in a way.

Your dates are spent cycling around the district, dominating patronising the local basketball court and just enjoying the other’s company.

And then, you slept together.

It had been late, so, you told him that he could crash at your place until daylight.

Despite your insistence that he take the bed while you slept on the sofa, Miguel was adamant that it be the other way around.

You had shrugged your shoulders, and decided not to fight him on it further.

Come morning, you had successfully moved him into your bed— he looked mad uncomfortable on the couch, anyways.

To your surprise, Miguel awoke with a start, a hand over his chest and eyes wide.

He demanded to know whether or not the both of you had done anything the previous night.

You didn't know about his . . . fear at the time, but you knew that you had royally fucked up.

You promised not to do that sort of thing again, and the rest of the morning is spent in the other's arms.

#beastars #beastars agata #beastars miguel #beastars x reader #beastarsxreader #ask #beastars headcanons #beastars imagines #beastars dolph mention

[kuroos-babie]

Sugawara x fem!Reader | Iwaizumi x fem!Reader | Kenma x fem!Reader

[ Headcanons ]

Request: hi i hope your askbox is open (i’m sorry for sending this if it isn’t!!) but i’m such a hoe for your single mum hcs and i was wondering if you could write a headcanon for sugawara, iwaizumi and kenma where they and y/n are now together, all happy and their child’s bio dad tries to come back into y/n’s life- i think it’d be so cute how they’d step up to protect y/n and their child!! thank you so much, hope you’re well and stay safe —anonymous

a/n: HI BABY THANK YOU FOR READING AND SENDING IN A REQUEST!! im glad you liked those and i hope u like these too!!! pls tell me what you think i love hearing from u guys 👉👈 

based from these headcanons and these too!!

❀ you'd told suga about your son's dad quite early in the relationship

❀ how he'd just disappeared even before your baby had turned one, saying he's not ready to be a dad

❀ suga didn't show it to you but he was Mad mad and he’s ready to break some ankles if it ever got down to it :)

❀ the three of you would be out on your regular park dates, he was playing with your son on the sandbox when he noticed you were taking too long getting drinks from the vending machine

❀ looking around he saw you, clearly uncomfortable and irritated, held by your ex by the bend of your elbow

❀ he walks up to the both of you after telling your child to stay put and that he’ll be right back and placed a hand on the small of your back, feeling you instantly relax at his touch

❀ gonna shoot that bastard boy a sweet suga smile and ask if he needed anything from his Wife as he removes your ex’s hand on you

❀ now y’all aren’t married still so you were kinda :O

❀ i know i said suga’s ready to break ankles but words can hurt and it’s definitely his best weapon

❀ gonna talk that bastard boy down until he sheds bastard tears

❀ would threaten your ex to stay away from His Family or else !!!

❀ or else he’s gonna call up his cop buddy 

❀ jk anywayz,, will hold you and make sure you’re fine after the whole ordeal and you would all get ice cream and pancakes with your son

“so your wife huh?” you hummed, cozied up against his chest on the sofa as the long forgotten disney movie plays, your child passed out on top of you.

sugawara chuckled as he played with your son’s hair, “i mean, only if you want to”

he placed a long loving kiss on your temple as you leaned in, closing your eyes, “koushi, i would love to”

“great because i’ve been wanting to marry you since this little boy dragged me towards you”, he chuckle again and pressed another kiss before he sighed, wrapping you and your son in his embrace

“god, i love you two so much”

“please, y/n, i was wrong. i would never leave you again i promise you” 

“y/n who’s that?” iwa peered through the hallway to the front door, your now 1 year old daughter in his arms

❀ you tried to wave him off and tell him it’s no one but he’s already caught sight of your ex

❀ would give you your daughter and tell you to go to your room

❀ i bet your ass he gave that bastard boy a good beating 

❀ ends up with bruised knuckles but it was worth it when he saw you close to breaking down in front of that shithead

❀ you would ice his knuckles and check his face for any bruises while your daughter takes a nap in her crib

iwaizumi was sat on the kitchen counter with you between his legs, ice pack in hand, tending to his bruises

“hajime you didn’t have to”, your voice was small —quiet, but he didn’t miss the slight tremble in it

he takes his hand from yours, brushing cold knuckles on your cheeks, “i wanted to”

“that bastard can’t waltz right in here and force his way through after leaving you alone to take care of your child, y/n”

“haji! language!” you hissed, glancing at the crib

you let out a sigh as he chuckled and pulled you closer between his legs, burying his face in your hair, “sorry”

the two of you stayed like that for a few moments before he spoke up again, “i won’t hesitate to beat him up again if he tries anything though”

❀ he had noticed you being restless and agitated a few months after moving in to the new house with him

❀ you avoided your phone which pinged at least 7 times in an hour

❀ now kenma’s not the type to force you to talk to him about it when you weren’t ready

❀ but when you tossed and turned at night failing to get a wink of sleep, barely touching your food and always looking out the window whenever someone passes by, he knew he had to do something 

“y/n what’s wrong?”

you gave him a hesitant look but quickly forced out a smile, “nothing’s wrong, kenma, why do you ask?”

“you’ve been acting weird lately, there is something wrong, what is it?”

kenma saw the tears welling up your eyes as you bit your lip and he quickly got up to wrap you up in a hug

“kenma i’m scared”

❀ you told him about how your ex, your daughter’s father, has been blowing up your phone for the last few weeks

❀ telling you he knows where you had moved to and that he’ll pay you three a visit soon enough to take back what was his

❀ you blocked his number multiple times but he jumped right into your socials with dummy accounts

❀ kenma knew about you ex’s abusive tendencies which was why you split up with him even before you knew you were pregnant

“why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“i was scared he might hurt you”

he held you even tighter and pressed kisses on the top of your head

“i won’t let him anywhere near us, you don’t have to be scared. i’m here, y/n, i won’t leave you.”

❀ rich boy kenma hired someone to take care of your ex 

❀ the bastard boy will not even get a chance to see you and your daughter, not on kenma’s watch >:(

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #sugawara kōshi #sugawara koushi #sugawara #haikyuu sugawara #hq sugawara #sugawara x reader #sugawara koshi x reader #sugawara koshi headcanons #iwaizumi hajime #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime headcanons #sugawara hcs #iwaizumi hcs #kozume kenma #haikyuu kenma #hq kenma #kozume kenma x reader #kenma kozume x reader #kenma hcs #kenma headcanons #kenma x reader

[vanillann]

within the vision (bucky barnes x f.reader)

a/n: i’m going to be naming each chapter based on a sitcom from that time era, cause i can!! also i’m so glad everyone liked the prologue!!

warning: WANDAVISION SPOILERS, swearing, suggestive language, talks of past trauma, AU

word count: 1.9k

within the vision masterlist

Chapter 1: Born Yesterday 

“Do you remember everything we just went over?”

I rolled my eyes, snapping the silver bracelet on my wrist, the little charm would be normal to anyone else but Bucky and I knew the content.

“No, I forgot everything,” I turned to Tony, smiling sarcastically when he frowned.

“We should have given you up for adoption,” Tony titled his head, the tiniest smile on his lips and he played with the technology again.

The room felt packed with people, Tony and Bruce running around the technology, Bucky and I waiting beside two beds that were shoved beside Wanda’s, and Steve and Sam leaned against the wall trying to tell me to stop with this plan.

“We don’t know what could happen,” Steve repeated again, his arms crossed as Tony gave Bucky his bracelet, thicker than mine but still normal enough to not have anyone question it.

We had taken extra steps to ensure our safety as nobody knew exactly where we were going.

“You both need to get out as soon as the mission's over,” Bruce nodded, to both of us. His finger danced across the different screen, Tony and himself were the only ones who understood it.

“I was planning on going on a walk before I came back.” Bruce rolled his eyes, but gave me a hint of a smile. He understood my defense mechanism, one of the few people who never got mad when I couldn’t be completely serious. One plus for anger management classes.

“I regret doing this already,” Bucky spoke under his breath, looking up to Sam who gave a fake thumbs up.

“If it comes down to it, leave Bucky,” he responded, earning a thumbs up from me.

“I hate both of you.”

Bucky and I both laid in our own bed, our combat gear already on as we laid back slightly, Tony taking Bucky's side while Bruce came to mine.

“We’re going to first hook you to this machine to keep track of your vitals,” I said nothing, watching Bruce shove the IV in my arm and playing with the machine a bit to make sure everything was okay.

“Next, on the count of three you’ll press the button on the bracelet. Remember you need to keep your mind focused on Wanda for this to work,” Tony continues with his run on sentence, only stopping once Bucky and I both nodded once.

I felt the chill suddenly run up my body, suddenly nervous to just hind out in my best friend's mind. Especially since she had always been younger than me, I felt weirdly awkward now.

“Are you both sure about this?”

I saw Bucky nodded slightly from the bed beside me, suddenly all eyes on me. I felt myself shift in the bed, avoiding eye contact.

“(Y/N)?”

“I’m fine, I just need a second,” I spoke after Steve, smiling at his worried glares but said nothing else of it.

You were doing this for her own good, you were helping her. This wasn’t you reading her diary after teasing about her crush, this was her turning into herself not knowing we were waiting for her.

“I’m good,” I laid down on the bed, not looking at anyone as my other hand searched for the button. I wasn’t going to mess this up cause I couldn’t find a button.

“Okay, remember to stay safe and think about Wanda.”

I nodded lightly, trying my best to zone in on Wanda while Tony’s count down filled the room.

“One.”

I thought back to young Wanda and Pietro trying to hide my shoes before one of my first dates when I was 14.

“Two.”

Wanda giggling in my room at the compound when Steve went on a manhunt for me because I was late for practice.

“Three.”

I felt my finger smash the button, thinking of Wanda’s face as she held off Thanos with Vision life in her hand. I thought of her tearful face as she gave me one last glance before everything blew up before my body was smashed against the nearby tree.

The weird feeling around me gave me a stomach ache. The feeling of falling when you were about to sleep almost, but my eyes refused to open as the wind rushed past me. I wanted to panic, to pull myself from whatever I walked into, but I simply couldn’t.

I couldn't sense anyone around me, my body was all alone falling and I couldn’t stop it. I was a controlled person, I enjoyed control and suddenly that word didn’t even exist anymore.

Then it stopped, the falling was gone and my eyes were pushed open. My body was moved differently, pushed against something. When I slowly moved around I noticed the slight dusk of the sky.

“(Y/N)?” My name whispered filled the same space I sat in, I looked around trying to get my brain to focus on one thing. I felt something cold against my wrist cause me to jump, pushing harder into the rough back.

I looked down, Bucky's face laid under whatever I was sitting on. I looked up, noticing the windows and the steering wheel slightly ahead of me. I took in the leather under my fingers, seeing there wasn’t a door handle in the back and how low the roof was.

But that didn't worry me, what worried me was I couldn’t make out any other colors besides black, white, and grey. I looked to Bucky, hoping to see the light pale skin on his face but was met with white, almost like a white crayon that had been run in black dust lightly.

“Where the hell are we?”

“Wanda’s head, I thought this was your plan,” Bucky slowly sat up from the floor of the backseat, I had luckily ended up on the actual seat. I looked out, hoping to see the colors of the sky but I was met with the same grey color.

“Can you see color?”

“Can’t say I do,” Bucky rubbed his arm, slowly moving to sit in the same space I had made for him on the seat.

I finally looked around the rest of the area, noticing the row of houses and other such things. The trees and bushes reminded me of the old movie Steve would make us watch, looking like something out of a sitcom.

“What are you wearing?”

I frowned as I looked at Bucky, his eyes held confusion as he looked me up and down once. I looked down at myself, shocked to find myself in a dress, definitely not my combat gear. The material was dark, I couldn’t tell more, and a fake belt was sowed into the thick fabric.

“I haven’t seen one of those in awhile,” Bucky picked up a piece of the dress at the end, rubbing the material between his fingers when I slapped it from his wands. That when I heard it, laughing. Not like you told a funny joke laughing, like a sitcom laugh.

I pointed to Bucky, my eyes wide as I waited for who knew what. When I saw Bucky slowly look up at me from the place he looked at my dress I knew he heard it. That's when I noticed the suit he was wearing, specifically an older looking arm suit. I looked back around the car, spotting the matching hat to the suit on the dash of the car. I didn’t say anything, slowly reaching up to grab it when I saw a door open.

A lady with dark hair and bright smiles walked out, held a hand slightly in the air if she were to hold a cigarette but no smoke came out. She was talking to someone, whoever was in the house. Suddenly I watched the owner lean out slightly, my jaw going slack as I saw Wanda’s bright smile hides behind loopy curls.

“Doll-”

“Don’t call me that,” I spoke softly, doing my best to keep the facade up but I was so shocked, Wanda was lightly pushing the woman out the house, almost as if begging her to leave with a little laugh. She looked the same, only dressed up similar to me.

“You’re going to want to see this,” he tugged on my dress, my hand slapping it away again but he yanked hard. He sent me flying to the back seat of the car. my side pushed into his with a loud oof.

I heard that stupid sitcom laugh again, trying to push it to the make of my mind as I pushed away from Bucky. I hit him in the side with the hat I had managed to take back with me, my mouth wide open to yell but Bucky shoved something in my face.

I could spot the coke logo from miles away, only it wasn’t the saem logo I had always remembered. The bottles were glass and the writing looked much more vintage. That when I noticed Bucky tapping on a part of the label, my eyes reading over the information their.

Expiration date: July 6th, 1953

“1953?” I looked around the neighborhood again, suddenly realizing the vintage cars that were parked along the streets and the dress that hung off my frame.

“How?”

“I don't hear you asking how we ended up in the wrong decade,” My voice was stern as he spoke, watching the dark haired lady finally leave Wanda’s porch and go to her own house close by.

“Not the time,” Bucky finally sat up slightly, watching the lady walk in her house.

“When is the time then? Maybe the 70s or do you wanna wait til the 90s,” I snapped, looking over my shoulder with a pout. His face was so close to me, I finally noticed his once long hair was cut short.

He looked like he had in those photos of Steve and himself, back from the 40s.

“Well, what do we do know?” Bucky looked at me, his nose almost hitting mine when he turned but I had slightly moved back.

“I guess blend it?” I shrugged, hearing that stupid sitcom laugh that I wanted ro punch in the face.

“How do you suppose we do that?”

I looked around the neighborhood, smiling when I noticed the house across from Wanda’s had a large “FOR SALE” sign standing in the front yard.

“Break into that house and act like we belong here,” I smirked, ignoring Bucky as I slowly climbed into the front seat of the car. I heard Bucky yell out about me kicking him but I didn’t care as I made it to the driver seat, pushing open the door.

“For your information, I do belong here,” were the last words I heard from Bucky before I closed the door, smiling over at the house and trying to keep my voice low to not attract wandering eyes. I stood in the same place for a second, suddenly my view changed from house to concrete. I felt a little bump on my backside and frown when I heard Bucky laugh.

“Should’ve held the door,” I noticed his combat boots beside my face. Normally I would have bought him down with me but I decided it would bring too much attention and simply pushed myself from the ground.

“I hate you,” I frowned, slamming my foot into the road when I heard that stupid laugh sound around me again.

“Okay okay,” Bucky held out two arms from me, trying his best to calm me down but it wasn’t any use, I simply pointed to the sign, turning back to look at Bucky with a serious look in my eye.

“We are stealing that sign and moving to that house.”

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<prologue - chapter 2>

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barns x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes x reader #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader #marvel x reader

[anika-ann]

The Best Mistake of My Life - Pt.1

Type: One-shot/ch1 of a series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 4100

Summary: A soulmate AU. They say having a soulmate is a blessing. Who wouldn’t love the idea of star-crossed lovers, right?

Neither Steve Rogers nor you consider yourself lucky though. It probably has something to do with the lines written on your skin. Because if the words are anything to go by, you’re not sure you want to meet each other.

Warnings: swearing, light angst, FLUFF 

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Steve Rogers was born a sickly baby.

Born a sickly boy to a single mother in the time of great depression, money thin, his health even thinner and having a pathetic number of friends; though that never really bothered him. What his friendships lacked in quantity was hundred times compensated by quality. Bucky Barnes’ loyalty was everything Steve could ask for.

And what Steven Grant Rogers himself lacked in height and strength of body was made up for by the strength of will, amount of determination and a great compassionate heart, ready to welcome anyone sans bullies there.

Perhaps God had seen that Steven would grow into a man carrying his heart on his sleeve and decided that this man should be blessed with a love so magnificent they would tell stories about it; people always had. People were always telling tales about soulmates.

Having a soulmate wasn’t necessarily rare, but not everyone was bound to have one. Being one of the lucky ones was an amazing gift; a promise of a connection as unbreakable as the thread of fate, a promise of an unconditional love.

To know person had found the one, their soulmate, those who were blessed with one wore a brand on their skin, a clue to allow them to recognize their destined partner; a set of words.

It was the set of words what was troubling Steve Rogers the most. Despite Bucky’s reassurance, despite his mother’s last words, despite Steve willingness to fight everything else the world would kick into his way, he found moments in his life he cursed the words written on his skin, reminding him how weak he would always seem to people.

Above the visible line of his collarbone, sticking out on his rather skeletal frame, there sat the words of doom:

‘Oh no, there must be a mistake.’

The very first time his soulmate would spoke to him… they would be disappointed and silently praying that whatever force was behind bounding souls together made one hell of a misstep. A mistake.

That was what Steve was going to be to his soulmate; a mistake. A failure. A disappointment.

And why wouldn’t he be? Ninety pounds of rattling bones, list of illnesses longer than his birth certificate…. Every girl Bucky had ever tried to set him up with out of pity (which Bucky would deny until his last breath) had been disappointed.

“Maybe she’ll be more into brunettes. Maybe she won’t believe her soulmate is blond at first,” his friend would say, “or she’ll be from Queens and wouldn’t get over the fact you’re not, but once you’ll show her the true Brooklyn charm, she’ll fall to your feet.”

Then he would always pat Steve’s shoulder, pulling him into a one-arm hug and tried to get him a date once more.

Steve didn’t believe him. He never did, but recognizing his friend felt better if Steve played along, he would smile and poke his ribs in return.

“Whatever you say. Jerk.”

…

Much later, when he said to Peggy Carter that he was waiting for the right partner to dance with, he was starting to admit to himself that he wasn’t thinking about his so-called soulmate as the one. After all, he went against all odds, against rules, against destiny itself when he had been accepted to the army regardless of his fragile body. Maybe, just maybe it meant that not ending up with his soulmate was what would happen one day.

When he crushed the Valkyrie to the ocean, not even having taken a chance on Peggy Carter despite her obvious interest, he must admit he had been lying to himself.

His last realization concerned his soulmate; despite wanting to fight against the whole world, he couldn’t make himself to take a chance on Peggy Carter, a brilliant woman who was not carrying the right set of words.

His last regret was that he would never meet his true love.

His last thought was that maybe, his soulmate never had a set of words spoken by him on her skin – her first words to him might as well be the ones spoken when reading his obituary, somehow knowing he was supposed to belong with her.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

The moment you were old enough to understand the meaning of the word ‘soulmate’, you were intrigued by the concept; it probably had everything to do with the fact that you too were supposed to have a person meant to be your other half.

Every parent was bound to be delighted when their child was born with that kind of blessing, but the older you were getting, the more you understood what kind of a shock might occur when a kid had rather strange line supposedly spoken to them by their universe-chosen partner for life.

There were people who had words like ‘shit’ on them; literally. Not very delightful. Sometimes there were general lines like ‘Hello, how are you?”. Good luck hunting down the right person. In contrary, some people had a name on them; ‘Hi, I’m Peter Cameron.’ Lucky bastards.

And then… then there were people like you, whose words were just… weird.  

“But I really am 95,” you mumbled under your breath, tracing the handwriting right under your collarbone subconsciously, the first thing you did in the morning if you remembered – which wasn’t every day, not by a long shot.

“This is the stupidest thing ever…”

You shook your head and started to get ready for your day at the office.

Your opinion on your soulmark had been changing during the years. You had had a period of fascination, simply being proud of carrying it. Then you had understood the meaning of your words, and you had been horrified and desperate at the idea of meeting your soulmate at such age or worse, having one that old while you would be thirty or something when encountering them.

Then had come the phase of how could I avoid having a grandpa as my soulmate. Maybe the number meant something different – your soulmate’s weight (you really wouldn’t care for that, you reasoned), his temperature (he might be hypothermic at the moment, no?), his hotel room number, the number of a seat in a theatre perhaps… there were so many possibilities, right?

Now, you just tried not to think about it too hard. You had had boyfriends, never lasting longer than few months sans the one exception of George, who had turned out to be the biggest asshole in the world despite your belief he had might have been the one; until you had caught him in bed with another girl.

Maybe it was that deep inside you had never believed in the relationships you had, because the guy never said the right first words. Or maybe you were full of shit and you couldn’t keep a guy interested, god only knew – hence not thinking about it too hard, going on with your life and taking it as it was.

You might meet him, you might not. It wouldn’t be the first case of never encountering a soulmate. Life was funny that way.

Best not to let it ruin your day. A rather nice day it was, today. If you only didn’t have to spend it in the crowded office with people demanding their licences and taking out their frustrations on you. Well. You were a grown-up; you had to be okay with things not always being okay. Which sucked. But that was life.

…

You had a chance to have a shortest coffee break to exchange ‘hello’s with Ryan – your actual favourite person in the world, your platonic ‘soulmate’ (not in the ominous sense of the word), your boss who never really acted like a boss – and that was it. Apparently, half of Manhattan had gotten their licence this very date years back, so the office was ridiculously crowded. Thank god for the glass between you and the jungle; it shielded you at least partly.

You grabbed the file of request no. 57 that day – you were like a machine, okay, you couldn’t remember the office ever managing to deal with so many in only three hours – pulling out the documents and the licence to make another driver happy.

Your hands were acting on autopilot and you didn’t even glance up when an ID was pushed to you through the small space between the glass and the counter, checking the renewed licence first.

Your first thought was ‘oh wow’. That guy on the photo was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but snap your head up, checking out the real-life thing.

OH WOW.

Scratch the ‘gorgeous’. Replace it with ‘unreal’.

You were tempted to ask if he was made by an ancient sculptor and then brought to life, because his body was as incredible as his face; the broadness of his shoulders begged for a touch. His muscular arms were not so hidden in the sleeves of his dark green shirt. The shoulder-waist ratio was clearly a God’s mistake, a one you were thankful for.

Forget ancient sculptures. His face must have been sculptures by angels and they left him with a halo of blond hair as a reminder. And his eyes. Oh god, such pretty eyes…

He gave you an unsure smile, opening his mouth to probably accuse you of staring and you quickly dropped your gaze, returning to check the licence before you would give it to him.  

Your hand froze hovering above the date of birth. You hesitantly looked up again, biting your lip guiltily despite not being the one who had messed up. You felt kinda sorry for him waiting the line for nothing.

“Oh no, there must be a mistake…” you half apologized, half said only to yourself, meeting his suddenly alarmed gaze.

You put on your most apologetic face, hoping he wouldn’t be too mad. How had someone messed it up again? The birth dates were with typos all the time. How?! There were only numbers for God’s sake! It wasn’t like the person inserting the data to the computer had to spell Buchwald or Mxyzptlk or something like that!

Damn you, Sheryl or Kira or you whoever have done this!

The man – Steven Grant Rogers, as you had learned from his sadly valueless driving licence – was staring at you, speechless. You were honestly getting worried, though you weren’t sure if you were more scared for him or for yourself in case of his reaction escalating.

So you went to explain.

“Uhm… I’m really sorry, mister-“ You quickly eyed the name ID he had given you, checking if the office got the name right at least. “-Rogers, but there seems to be a typo in… in your birth date. I apologize for the mistake our institution made, even though I wasn’t the one to-- you don’t need to know that, it doesn’t matter-- I’m so sorry you have to come here again, but I can’t really let you walk around or rather drive around with a licence claiming you were born in 1918, so…”

You had become so flustered, your cheeks burning, talking and talking without being able to stop, not making any sense even, until-

“But I really am 95,” he admitted sheepishly and you wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement, when something in your brain clicked.

The click was about as loud as an atomic bomb falling on Hiroshima. You were sure everyone had to hear it.

It shut you up immediately. Your whole body froze, your mind buzzing uselessly, not a single thought staying long enough for you to actually understand it. Until two words got stuck, shining in red letters like a neon sign in your brain.

Holy. Shit.

“Excuse me,” you squeaked, grabbing his useless licence and mechanically rising from your seat, walking away.

The moment no one could see you as you got into a hallway, you broke into a run. You acted on instinct. You ran and you ended up in front of Ryan’s office, stumbling in without knocking and without an atom of oxygen left in your lungs.

Ryan’s neatly combed hair swayed as he snapped his head to the door, his eyes strict until they took the newcomer – hint: you – in, widening instantly.

He quickly jumped to his feet, pacing to you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice filled with worries.

You weren’t able to answer, because—holy shit. Your eyes frantically scanned the room, unable to meet your friend’s gaze. “I-- I-“

A hand landed on your shoulder, your eyes immediately falling on it on instinct. Shit, you couldn’t breathe. Could you?

Ryan’s free hand found you chin, tilting your head so you faced him. “Hey, baby, look at me! What happened? Was someone too much of an asshole to you?”

“I’m not-- he’s-“

Ryan’s face screamed concern, but he had fixed it in a second, soothing smile on his lips. He led you to his sofa, the calming blue cushions enveloping you.

“Sit down on your ass and gimme that,” he maneuverer the document off the steely grip of your fingers, sitting next to you as he looked it over. “Huh, quite a looker this guy. So what did he do?“

“I—the- the licence says he was born in---in 1918,” you stammered, finally able to breathe in properly and speak.

Ryan squinted at the date and then rolled his eyes.

“Oh jeez, again? Why is it so hard to just get it right? I swear I’m gonna have to fire Sheryl, she’s a disaster. What’s wrong with her? It’s not like they would be making a licence for someone that old! There’s a photo goddammit!”

“Ry-Ry… he said he was 95.”

Another eye-roll was his answer. “Yeah, I can count. He would have been if he was born in 1918 instead of 1981.”

“No, you don’t-“ you licked your lips and swallowed against the lump that grew in your throat. Your voice was as shake as your hands. “He just told me that. That he really was 95.”

Your friend observed you silently for a beat, not following. And then realization hit him like a train.

“Oh. OH. No shit?!”

It was your turn to stare silently, your mind loud enough to make noise and fill the space of Ryan office.

“Damn, does he really look like that? Lucky bitch!”

“Ryan!” you yelped in surprise when his fist bumped your shoulder, almost knocking you off balance.

It worked though. It grounded you and threw you back to reality. You tried your best to calm your breathing, but damn. This guy… he was your soulmate. You just met your soulmate. And he wasn’t a grandpa. He didn’t weight 95 pounds either. You weren’t in a hotel, neither in a theatre.

No. The number was only about one tiny mistake— oh, ohhh shit, what was the first thing you had said to him? Oh fuck. Way to go, girl!

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked rubbing the spot he had punched.

“No!” you shot back immediately, your mind racing.

“You know what I mean. You look better now. Though I gotta say, so is he. His face really is quite easy on the eyes. How about the rest of him?”

Ry-Ry, your bi-side is showing.

You chuckled at the easy talk, the tension from your shoulders falling a bit.

“Well… yeah, he’s like a model. So out of my league…” you muttered, remembering your ogling. This guy was your soulmate? Wasn’t it a mistake?

Ryan was suspiciously quiet; normally you would expect him to scold you for selling yourself short. Instead, he was staring at the licence, his lips parted in silent shock.

What now?

“What?” you demanded, following his line of gaze.

Ryan just chuckled, the incredulous sound ringing, echoing in the quiet space. “Girl, I hate to break it to you, but I might not fire Sheryl just yet.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Remember that one time aliens were falling from the sky?”

You blinked in surprise at that question, not following his train of thoughts. “Uhm… yeah? Pretty hard to forget that…?”

You were lucky you hadn’t been smashed under a building that day. Many people in Manhattan were, some sadly not. So yeah, you remembered.

“You remember the waitress from the café talking after the incident?”

“Oh my god, Ry-Ry, just spill it! I’m not following!”

Your friend huffed in exasperation, shoving the licence in your face, his finger on the name.

Steven Grant Rogers. Yeah, you could read too.

“That name should ring a bell, you dumbass! Would you say that this guy is handsome enough to be Captain America?” he hissed, making your heart stop.

Oh. Oh shit.

OH SHIT.

Your brain short-circuited.

“Oh my god. He really is 95,” you breathed out, your brain somehow choosing the least logical reaction to this whole revelation.

Ryan laughed. “Ding-ding, we have a winner! Holy crap, baby, I think you just got yourself a superhero soulmate!”

And just like that, you started panicking again. You gulped, watching the driving licence as if it could blow up.

“Shit, Ry-Ry! What do I do?” you whispered, desperation soaking through. What were you supposed to do upon that revelation? Captain America was your freaking soulmate!

Ryan smiled at you reassuringly, patting your cheek. “Not coming back to your spot behind the counter today, that’s for sure.”

“But-“

“I’m going in. I think this place won’t blow up if I fill in for once. I sure hope I remember the process, though I’m probably not gonna be as efficient as you are.”

You didn’t know what to say. Hell, you didn’t know what to do! But yeah, not coming back to the jungle sounded good, especially given your frantic escape.

“You really would do that?” you asked hesitantly and Ryan just rolled his eyes. “But… Ryan, what the hell do I do?!”

Your bestie gave you a lopsided smile and a wink, patting your cheek patronizingly once more before heading to take over your workplace.

“Whatever you want, baby. Whatever you want.”

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While you were having your own freak-out, Steve was standing at the counter, dumb-struck.

He couldn’t believe it. You had actually said those words. And judging by your reaction to his own, he must have said yours. Which… yeah, congratulation, Rogers, you had given your Universe-chosen dame an amazing note on her skin. To be fair, so had she.

Incredible.

Impossible.

His soulmate was in this century. In this millennia. That was what he got for ever thinking he could escape fate; a slap right in his face.

Because while for several cherished moments, he basked in the light on his soulmate not considering the pairing with him the infamous mistake the words on his skin claimed… he soon learned that it didn’t mean no heartbreak for him.

You had taken an abrupt leave to the back of the office and never came back.

Few minutes later, a man emerged from the door you had disappeared into, taking your seat and without a second look on Steve’s ID, he explained that Steve would have to come here again.

Steve didn’t care for the process of getting his driving licence renewed in the slightest, barely listening. His gaze was at the door to the hall, opened ajar, the door you didn’t return from after learning he was meant to be your partner.

When he had seen you behind the desk, he had considered you a beautiful dame, certain his heart had skipped a beat when your eyes met his. The sight of you was burned into his brain, now forever as a painful memory.

Clearly, you didn’t want him. Not because he was sickly, 95 pounds or 5’7’’ or all bones. Not because your words to him were about a mistake. Not because he was from Brooklyn. No. Honestly, Steve didn’t know why, what could scare you off so soon. He just knew you had escaped at the mere sight of him.

With his mind fuzzy, he walked out of the building into the bright nearly midday sun, blaming the sharp rays for the sting in his eyes. He sighed, running his hand down his face, suddenly bone tired.

“Mr. Rogers?” a shy female voice addressed him, instantly making him turn around to its source.

His lips parted in awe. There you stood, your airy floral dress reaching your knees, played with by the softest breeze. Hesitant smile on your lips. A tiniest spark in your eyes as he subconsciously took two steps to you, just to prove you would still be there if he came closer. You didn’t disappear.

“Y-yes?” he stuttered, actually feeling like the small man he had used to be before the serum.

You quietly introduced yourself, meeting his eyes once more, effectively stopping his heart again. You offered your hand for him to shake and he, feeling like he was dreaming, something else possessing his body, kissed your knuckles as he would have done if meeting you seventy years ago.

The most adorable heat warmed your cheeks at the gesture and you casted your gaze down; but Steve did catch a glimpse of the earlier spark shining brighter before you hid yourself from him

“I… I believe we have a lot to talk about,” you whispered and he instinctively gave your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and shifting a half step closer to you. The corners of his lips unwittingly turned up, something warm building up in his chest as you returned the smile with hesitance.

“Yes, I think we do.”

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Nicolas J. Fury was sitting in his office, waiting for the door to finally open. There was something bugging him – and that something was about 5’7’’ tall, had red hair and was doing whatever it wanted, messing with his business. On top of that, she left him waiting; he had requested her ten minutes ago and she still hadn’t arrived.

He couldn’t help but let his sarcasm show when she came eventually.

“Agent Romanoff. Thank you for coming. Now, care to explain me why did you insist on Rogers getting his driving license renewed in person when we have done it for him already?” he demanded, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his desk.

The agent just shrugged. “He needs to meet people.”

“Don’t give me this shit, Natasha! What are you not telling me?”

Slow smirk spread Natasha’s lips, perhaps a bit smug, but she didn’t say a word.

“Romanoff-“

“Alright! Jeez, Nick, you have to work on your patience when it comes to Rogers, I swear…” she teased him. However, at least she started talking. “I might have run his… words through the system Stark provided us.”

Realization dawned to Fury. There was only one system she could be talking about. The soulmate matching one. Insert the words of a person and it would search the database for a possible match; everyone’s words were being put into the database at their birth. It made SHIELD’s work easier in case criminals happened to have a soulmate; the connection was so unique it usually offered a weak spot even for the rotten people.

Nicolas Fury raised his eyebrow expectantly, while Natasha just watched him, amused as she had the upper hand. The man rolled his functioning eye and sighed exasperatedly. Why was he keeping her around again? Oh right, she was his best agent.

“Fine. Did you find a match?”

Natasha snorted. “I didn’t even have to look for a match. There aren’t many women with ‘But I really am 95’ written on their skin,” she explained dryly and Fury just wanted to growl, cursing mentally.

How had no one thought about using the database in the first place?! It had cost them a lot of money, okay? They had it for a reason!

“She clean?” he inquired instead or swearing out loud and Natasha scoffed.

“Like a whistle, not even a speed ticket, which is rather ironic. She’s boring, really – she’ll be perfect for him. Can I go now? I have an ass to kick.”

“…Rogers’?”

“Barton’s, actually. Have a good day, Director,” Natasha spun on her heels and headed to the exit gracefully.

“Hey, I want her file!” Fury complained, already knowing he wasn’t going to receive it from her.

“Find it yourself!” she threw over her shoulder cockily, her red hair swirling with the sudden movement of her head.

The director of SHIELD tried to keep his amusement in check, controlled by the irritation, but he lost. The corners of his lips twitched as the door clicked behind his best spy.

Why did he keep her around again?

He started the search for the words Natasha had said, sinking into his chair comfortably.

Alright, no doubt future Mrs. Rogers. Let’s see how boring you really are.

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Part 2 (originally this was only meant a one-shot)

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Tags: @cxptain @mermaidxatxheart @smilexcaptainx​

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If you wish to be tagged/untagged, let me know - either via an ask or a message :)

Thank you for reading!!

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #soulmate au #avengers #avengers fanfiction #captain america #steve rogers #fluff #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #the best mistake of my life #anika ann

[chuuyasnumber1simp]

Born of Lies, but Learning to Love

Part 1. Chuuya x fem reader.

part two     part three 

Summary: Y/N didn’t know where she came from. She never did. She was given one mission in life, one purpose. She knew not her own thoughts, her own ambitions, not even her own feelings. All she knew was the feeling of the sticky red liquid staining her hands, and the way a knife felt in her fingers.

Ability:  Falsum Quod Visus (False Sight)- Can manipulate what someone see’s by manipulating what the brain deciphers from the signals the eyes send. When used to the full extent, she can drive people mad. The person under the effect of this ability experience all five senses of whatever illusion she creates. The only drawback, whatever illusion she creates, she also see’s and feels as well. Driving someone to the point of insanity would also drive her to insanity. 

A/N: so this is kind of like a Violet Evergarden au? I do plan on making multiple parts, I don’t know how many, I was kind of planning on going with the flow, but if anyone wants to be on the tag list just let me know :)

Warnings: Blood, death mention, trauma, PTSD, self worth issues

Word Count: 6,623

This was supposed to be his day off. 

Chuuya grumbled the entire time he got dressed, and though he loved early morning rides on his motorcycle, he did not like weaving in between cars when he was going to the one place he wasn’t supposed to go today. 

Chuuya had worked tirelessly for weeks just to earn himself one day off, and he wasn’t exactly ecstatic to receive a call from Mori at 5:47 a.m. telling him that he had a surprise for him. Mori’s “surprises” usually consisted of a botched mission, new job, or some mess Dazai, who wasn’t even in the Port Mafia, got into. 

Nonetheless, and order was an order, and his loyalty one against his stubbornness, so he he was, riding the elevator up to Mori’s office at 6:15 a.m. 

He strutted into the room with all the confidence of a peacock, knowing his boss would be expecting him. 

taking in the room with one glance, Chuuya noticed a lone figure standing next to Mori. She held a clipboard to her side, and seemed to be writing something diligently. Mori was eagerly talking to her and pointing out things on his desk. Chuuya cleared his throat loudly, gaining both of their attentions. 

“Ah, Chuuya. I see you’ve met Y/N,”

Chuuya cocked his head in confusion. The only people he saw coming up here were subordinates and secretary's, and the girl standing next to Mori. 

Suddenly Mori snapped his fingers, and the girl standing next to him vanished. Chuuya immediately activated his ability, but before he could even blink he felt the clod, sharp blade of a knife against his throat. He threw his head backwards, attempting to catch his attacker by surprise. His head was met by empty space, and he instinctively dropped to his knee’s and kicked his leg out, and grinned when he felt his foot knock into something. Whoever it was knew what they were doing, and leapt backwards before he could throw a punch in their direction. Spinning around, he was shocked to see no one there. Using his ability, he hurled one of the chairs in Mori’s office in the direction of the door, but all it did was hit the wall and break. 

“Mori, what is the meaning of-” Chuuya stopped when Mori was nowhere to be seen. He let out a sigh, knowing this could only be work of an ability user. 

“Alright, I’m done here. Reveal yourself or I’ll have Akutagawa rip you to shreds,”

He waited, but nothing happened. He was still alone in the office. Clicking his teeth, he turned around to exit but was shocked to feel someone’s fist connect with his face. 

He stumbled backwards gripping his nose, feeling warm blood drip down his hands and onto the floor. 

Ripping off his gloves, he activated his ability, not about to make the mistake of letting his guard down again.

“All right that's it-”

Slow clapping from the location of Mori’s desk made Chuuya stop in his tracks, and he turned around to see Mori situated there once more. 

“How did you get back over-”

“My my Y/N, I never realized just how good you were. Managing to land a hit on Chuuya himself? That’s quite impressive. And I must say, it is quite entertaining to watch someone in control of your ability from an outside perspective,”

“Cut the crap Mori. Who is Y/N?”

“Now now Chuuya, there’s no need to be upset. I was merely giving you a hands on demonstration. Y/N dear, could you please reveal yourself to Chuuya? You can stop using your ability now,”

Chuuya felt someone's gaze boring into his back, and he whipped around, ready to figure out who was ruining his day off. 

He was met by a woman, from the looks of it in her mid-twenties, holding a knife in her left hand. It was the most interesting knife he’d ever seen, definitely not a type of traditional knife, Both the handle and the black were solid black and curved, creating a crescent shape. The blade was sharp on the inside edge, and there was a loop at the end of the handle. How you would wield such a knife, Chuuya did not know. 

She was clad in all black, sporting leggings and a sleeveless muscle shirt, leaving nothing to the imagination. Interestingly, he did not wear heels like the rest of the women in the Port Mafia. Instead, almost sock like boots covered her feet all the way up to her knees. Many scars adorned her exposed arms, and Chuuya wanted to know their story. He himself had scars of his own, but something about hers stood out to him. She was small and lithe, shorter than he was, quite a feat. Not many managed to be shorter than Chuuya, an he wondered if harsh training stunted her growth.

But that wasn’t the most interesting thing about her. It was her eyes that drew Chuuya in.

The way that though his blood dripped of her knuckles, and he could see her ankle swelling from where he kicked her, there was nothing in her eyes. 

They were not manic like Dazai’s were, angry like Akutagawa’s or scheming like Mori’s. 

They simply held... nothing. 

Like she wasn’t a real person. A lifeless machine, taught to do only one thing, and didn’t know anything else. 

Chuuya looked into her e/c depths and saw absolutely nothing. And if he was being completely honest, it scared him. 

He’d encountered many things, many kinds of people while working in the Port Mafia, but never had he seen someone quite as empty as the woman in front of him. 

And yet, as much as those unfeeling eyes sent shivers down his spine, they also intrigued him. He wanted to know why, what had happened in her life to turn her into this emotionless robot. He genuinely wondered if she had ever smiled, if she even knew how. 

“Do you like her?”

Mori’s question snapped Chuuya out of his thoughts. Now knowing she was under Mori’s command, he turned his back to her so he could answer Mori. 

“I think she could be pretty useful. Who trained her?” 

“Dazai. Then later, Akutagawa,”

Chuuya bristled at the mention of his former partners name. 

“Why was my subordinate asked to train her and not me?” 

“It’s really quite simple,” Mori said, folding his hands and resting his chin on them. “Because I didn’t want you to know about her. I gave them both explicit orders to never speak w word about her existence,”

Chuuya narrowed his eyes, suspicious about why Mori would keep something as small as training a new recruit from him. “And why is that?”

“Because she’s for you,” 

“Huh?”

“Let me elaborate. You see, on a mission I sent Dazai on years ago, she was found. Her parents were traitors, so they were dispatched quickly, but she was a different story. When she heard the men in the apartment, she accidentally activated her ability. Dazai was able to nullify it fairly quickly, but once he figured out what it was, he found great promise in her. So, since the age of two, she was raised here, in the Port Mafia. Once she hit ten, she began her training. She’s been trained her whole life, for the past twelve years to be specific, just to serve the port mafia. She holds no emotions, no thoughts of her own. All she knows is what i, and now you, tell her to do. She is if I might say, the perfect human weapon,”

Chuuya wondered about the term ‘human weapon’. Nothing about the girl holding the knife and not even favoring her clearly broken ankle seemed human to him. 

“Y/N, you take orders from Chuuya now. Do whatever he says. and kill whoever he says to,”

“Yes sir,” 

Her voice, as well as her eyes, held absolutely no emotion at all. She gave no hint that she even felt her broken ankle. 

“Alright let’s go,”

Chuuya swept out of the room, thoughts swimming in his head.

If she was trained by both Dazai and Akutagawa, does she also take orders from them? What kind of training was she given Are there any drawbacks to her ability?

Chuuya glanced at the girl next too him, astonished to see she wasn’t even limping. He wondered if she could even feel pain, or any emotion for that matter.

“Do you have a problem with me sir?”

Chuuya winced internally. Seems she’s pretty blunt. I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone wo trained under Akutagawa for god knows how long. 

“No. Doe’s your ankle hurt?”

“A little bit,”

“I can reset it if you want,”

“My ankle won’t be an issue. I’ve been trained to handle injury's that are far worse than this,”

“Yeah, but could heal wrong if you keep putting weight on it,”

“I assure you sir, I am fine,”

“Y/N, I order you stop and let me fix your ankle,”

Immediately, she stopped in her tracks. Looking around, she strode over to the nearest bench and plopped down. 

Chuuya crouched on the ground in front of her foot, sliding the weird sock like shoe of her foot. The ankle in question was purple and swollen, and Chuuya grimaced at the sight. There was no way this only hurt a little bit. 

“I’m going to reset it now. You can squeeze my hand if you want,”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,”

Chuuya sighed, and then slightly grabbed her ankle, took a deep breath in, and jerked her ankle until he her a rather sickening crack, signally the bone was re-aligned. He almost missed the sharp intake of breath she did when he reset her ankle, the only clue that she did feel the pain. 

“All done. Now let’s go home, it’s too early for this and I'm supposed to be off today,”

“Should I drive sir?”

“Are you serious? Even though I reset it, your ankle is still broken. Besides, you driving would mean that I would have to leave my bike here,”

Y/N lightly tilted her head to the side, as if she did not understand how a broken ankle could hinder her in the slightest. 

“I could call someone else to drive you, and then I could rive your bike home sir,”

“No. No one drives my bike but me. And stop calling me sir. Chuuya is fine,”

“Okay Chuuya sir,”

Chuuya sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, an action he figured he’d be doing a lot lately. 

Timeskip~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time he got home, Chuuya was exhausted. His nose was throbbing, and to mention he had no idea what he was going to do with Y/N. He wearily stepped through the door, sliding his shoes off and then turning to the short woman.

“I’m going to go fix my nose, and then I’m going to take a short nap. After that, you’re going to help me with paperwork,”

“Yes Chuuya sir,”

Chuuya grumbled about how she couldn't seem to drop the sir, but was too tired to pursue the topic. That would be a conversation for later. 

One hour long nap and nose fix later, he was refreshed and ready to do the paperwork he’d been ignoring. 

He stepped down stairs into the lobby, shocked to find Y/N asleep on the floor. She was slumped against the door, and because her shoes and clothes had not been changed, he assumed she never left that spot since the moment she arrived.

“Y/N?”

At the sound of her name, she snapped up instantly, shooting up but wobbling slightly on her injured ankle. 

“My apologies for falling asleep, Chuuya sir. Prolonged use of my ability is rather draining,”

“It’s fine. I have extra rooms, you could have asked to sleep in one,”

“It was not my place to ask. You did not give me orders to sleep in one, nor did you tell me to leave this spot, so I didn’t,”

Chuuya was a bit shocked, to say the least. He had never met someone who did not do anything, and he meant anything, unless he told her to.

“You live here now Y/N. You’re allowed to do whatever you want while you’re, within reason,”

“My apologies sir,”

“It’s okay. I don’t know what kind of training you went through, but you can ask for anything while you’re with me. It’s not like I’m low on cash,”

“I understand. Thank you Chuuya sir,”

“It’s Chuuya. Just Chuuya,”

“I see. Thank you Chuuya,”

“Let’s get started on paperwork,”

He lead her up to his spacious home office, handing her a pile of work and telling her to just follow the instructions on the paper. He was too absorbed in his work to notice that Y/N had not moved the entire time. 

“Is something wrong Y/N?”

She pursed her lips in thought before speaking. 

“I’m sorry Chuuya, I should have mentioned this earlier. I was never taught how to read and write. I apologize for my inadequacy, you may punish me as you see fit,”

“Okay first of all, I’m not going to punish you for something out of your control. And second of all, did no one ever teach you how to read or write?”

“Mori said that reading and writing were not essential to my training. All I needed to know was how to kill someone quickly and effectively, so he gave instructions to both Dazai and Akutagawa. Although, Akutagawa went against Mori’s orders and taught me how to write my name. He made me promise not to tell anyone though. I guess I have broken my promise to him,”

“If you’re going to be working for me, you’re going to need to know how to read and write. Come on, we’re going somewhere,” 

Every cell in Chuuya’s body was screaming at him that his was not a good idea. 

He couldn’t bring her to the Port Mafia, he could not risk the chance of Mori finding out about this. Instead, he went to the one place that was least  likely to tell Mori about what he was doing. 

Chuuya approached the building of the Port Mafia’s enemies Y/N in tow, and slowly took the stairs up. He was positive they knew he was here, but with Dazai there, he hoped they would not open fire on him. It would only add another layer to his horrible day.

He knocked on the door and braced himself for whatever response the ADA would have for him and Y/N showing up on their doorstep.

“Hello, welcome to the-”

The boy Chuuya recognized as Atsushi opened the door, and stiffened once he realized who was waiting for him. 

“O-oh hello Chuuya. Can I h-help you?”

“Yeah, actually you can. Do you-”

“Is that Chuuya i hear?”

The short man groaned as he heard Dazai’s voice, already dreading this interaction. 

Dazai threw himself at Chuuya, but Chuuya ducked and pulled Y/N out of the way. Ignoring Dazai who was now face down on the ground, Chuuya and Y/N stepped into the ADA. 

Kunikida met him at the door, rambling on about he couldn’t just show up un-announced, especially seeing that he was a Mafia member. Chuuya did his best to ignore him, and continued on. 

“Hey Atsushi, is Tanizaki here?”

“Why do you wanna know that?” 

Atsushi was on the defensive, and Chuuya couldn’t exactly blame him. He did find it interesting that no one had questioned Y/N’s presence yet, or even noticed she was there.  

“I need his help with something. Yours too,”

“What could we possibly do that the Port Mafia couldn’t?”

“Teach her how to read and write,” “What do you mean ‘her’?”

It finally clicked in Chuuya’s brain. She was using her ability. Mori must have told her to always use it around anyone outside the Port Mafia unless told not to.

“Oh, my bad. “Y/N, you can stop using your ability now,”

Instantly, Y/N appeared next to him, knife in hand. Everyone in the office was instantly on guard,  trying to get a read on what she was going to do.

“Relax. She won’t do anything unless I tell her to. Y?N, please lower your knife,” Y/N put the knife back in it’s sheath and scanned the room as if looking for someone. 

She must be looking for Dazai.

“Is that my dearest Y/N?”

Atsushi looked at his mentor in confusion. “You know her?”

“Know her? Why, I was the one who trained her!”

At the sight of her former mentor, Y/N walked towards him, and punched him square in the face. 

Atsushi attempted to restrain her, but she activated her ability, causing herself to disappear from his vision once more. 

“Ah ah ah, Y/N. No cheating,” Dazai grabbed her and activated his ability, causing her to reappear. 

Blood dribbled down his face, but he carried on as usual. 

“Your punch is stronger than it used to be. Great job Y/N, i totally didn’t see it coming,”

“Thank you Dazai. It’s nice to see you again,”

“I’m shocked you don’t hate me. I did practically torture you for about seven years,”

“I never said I didn’t hate you. You betrayed the Port Mafia and caused me immense pain for seven years. Although, i can’t say that i do hate you either. I suppose i don’t feel anything towards you, like i didn’t feel anything when i broke your nose just now,”

Chuuya watched on in interest, this was the most he heard Y/N speak in one go.

Dazai chuckled at the small woman’s declaration,  then gave her a soft pat on the head. 

“Whatever you say, Y/N. So,” Dazai turned his attention to Chuuya. “What are you both here for?”

Ranpo spoke up from the side of the room. “Mori gave Y/N to Chuuya, Chuuya found out she can’t read or write, so now he’s here so Junichiro and Atsushi can teach her,”

Chuuya smirked next to Y/N. “Smart as ever, Edogawa,”

Atsushi was looking very confused, and for a second Chuuya wondered if he was going to pass out on the spot. 

“Huh? Why us?”

“Because Akutagawa trusts you, and you and Tanizaki seem to have the most patience out of everyone in the ADA,”

“O-okay, should I go get Junichiro?”

“Yes,”

Atsushi rushed out of the room in search of his friend, and in the meantime, Chuuya sat down in one of the chairs. 

“Does Mori know you’re here?” Dazai questioned. 

“No,” 

“Figures. He never let me teach her anything outside things he thought would make her a weapon. He didn’t even let me tell her what day her birthday is,”

“I have no need for such trivial things as a birthday. I know how to dispatch of something quickly, and that is all I need in life,”

“Does it make you happy?” The farm boy Chuuya knew as Kenji spoke up. 

“What does it mean to be happy? What does it mean to smile? People around me often do these things, but I never have. Does that make me broken? I don’t feel anything. I have a purpose, the one Mori gave me. Isn’t that enough to keep living?”

The room got very silent after her words, no one knowing how to respond to that. 

Finally, Yosano spoke. “Personally, I don’t think that’s really living. That’s just not dying,”

“Is there a difference?”

Chuuya was both fascinated and sad at her statement. This woman was never allowed to feel anything. He wondered how long it would take to break her free of this mindset Mori put her in. 

He was still haunted by just how empty her words and eyes were. Logically, he knew that she felt things, but he doubted she knew what they were and what to do with them. So, like she was taught to do with everything, she killed them. Buried them deep, and didn’t let them resurface. It was all she knew how to do.

“I’ve got Junichiro,”

Atsushi and the red haired boy stood at the doorway, both looking rather nervous at what Chuuya was asking of them. 

“The plan is to leave her here for two hours each day, and you two will be in charge of teaching her how to read and right. I’ll give her orders to do what you say, so as long as you don’t provoke her, everything will be alright. Got it?”

Both Atsushi and Junichiro nodded their heads with vigor, so Chuuya turned to Y/N. 

“I’m gonna leave you here with them. I’ll be back in two hours, Dazai knows how to reach me if anything goes wrong. You have my permission to attack them, but only if they have malicious intent, okay? You’ll be safe here, so i doubt anything will happen, but make sure to get a hold of me if anything goes wrong. If Dazai won’t cooperate, use Atsushi has a hostage,”

“Um, I’d rather if I wasn’t the hostage-”

“Okay Chuuya,” 

Chuuya waved goodbye to the ADA, and sped off on his bike. 

Your POV:

You didn’t know what to take of the people that surrounded you. You could tell they wouldn’t hurt you, Chuuya himself trusted them. But, you didn’t quite know how to feel about your former mentor being here. 

The blonde boy in overall’s approached you first, a wide smile on his face.

“Hi! My name is Kenji. Do you like animals?” He stuck out his hand for you to shake. 

You just stared at it, not knowing what you were supposed to do. Since Chuuya wasn’t here, you turned to Dazai for assistance. 

“You’re supposed to shake it. Here, like this,”

He grabbed your hand in his, and shook it up and down once. Next, you turned to Kenji and shook his hand, still slightly confused about what this accomplished.

“Does Rashomon count as an animal?”

Kenji looked to be in thought. “Yeah i guess it does,”

“Then I can’t say I like animals. That’s the only one I’ve ever met,”

Kenji gasped. “Well that won’t do! Atsushi, come here and turn into a tiger,”

Atsushi glanced at Dazai for confirmation, but the tall man only shrugged in response. Nervously, Atsushi activated his ability and changed into his tiger form.

The action surprised you, you had no idea what a tiger even looked like. Quickly, in the place of where Atsushi stood, was a large white tiger with bicolored purple and gold eyes. It sported impressive claws and fangs that could no doubt kill you in a second. 

Junichiro spoke for the first time since you arrived. “You can touch him. He won’t attack you. Plus, if anything happens, Yosano can heal you and Dazai will just nullify his ability,”

Hesitantly, you took a step forward and touched tiger-Atsushi in front of you. His fur was softer than you expected, and you couldn’t resist running your hands across it. Stopping for a moment, you looked at Dazai. 

“Is there an emotion to explain how I feel about this?”

“That depends on how you feel about it. Do you like touching Atsushi’s fur?”

“I think so,”

“Then that’s joy you’re feeling. Or maybe satisfaction, if you want to be specific,”

You looked back at the large tiger before you, understanding your emotions for once.

You looked at Kenji and tried to move your lips in different positions, then growled when you couldn’t accomplish what you were trying to do. 

Junichiro looked at you with confusion. “What are you trying to do Y/N?”

“I believe you call it a smile. But I don’t think I’m doing it right,”

“Oh! I can help you with that!” You turned back to Kenji.

He put his fingers in his mouth and pulled at the corners, showing you how to smile. 

You did the same, and then pulled your fingers back out of your mouth once you were sure you got it. 

In the meantime, Atsushi had turned back into his human form, and was gawking at you and Kenji. Then you turned to him and tried your best to smile at him.

He looked a bit surprised, but smiled back at you. 

“Thank you Atsushi. I think i like animals now,”

Timeskip~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chuuya walked in the door two hours later, like he said he would, and you were happy to see him. You believed the emotion you were feeling was excited, though you hadn’t experienced it much before this.

“Hello Chuuya. Kenji and Atsushi taught me how to smile,”

“Is that so?” He looked rather tired, and you suspected he had done paperwork the entire time you were gone. 

“I still don’t understand how that helps me do my job, but Junichiro said that everyone should learn how to smile,”

“I agree. Did Dazai give you any trouble?”

“No. Kunikida kicked him out after he asked me to use my ability on him so he could experience a painless suicide,”

“Mm. That makes sense. Why haven’t you stood up this entire time?”

You swallowed thickly, you were hoping he wouldn’t notice. Your ankle and foot had gone completely numb, much to your dismay. You were a failure for letting it affect you. You had trained for twelve years to be able to bear this sort of thing, so you didn’t know why this ankle was being so stubborn. 

“I’m sorry sir. I said I wouldn’t let it affect me, but I can’t feel it anymore. I’m sorry I let an injury so minor inhibit my functionality. You can punish me as you see fit,”

Chuuya walked towards you silently and raised his hand. 

Atsushi sprung into action upon seeing this, determined to not see you suffer anymore Than you already have. He hadn’t known you very long, but there was something about the way you had tried so hard to smile that made him sad. Inwardly, he held some resentment towards Dazai. He knew that Dazai had changed since his mafia days, but just how many people did he mess up while he was there? First Akutagawa, and now you. It made him feel slightly protective over you, after all, he was the first real animal you met.

“Hold on Chuuya-”

You braced yourself for whatever stinging pain was coming, but it never did. Instead, Chuuya lightly chopped you on the head with his hand.

“Idiot. I said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m not going to punish you for something out of your control. It would be unreasonable of me to expect you not to be affected by a literal broken ankle. And besides, it was me who broke it anyway,”

Atsushi gasped. “You’re the one who broke her ankle?”

“Yeah. Mori had me fight her first, then told me who she was. Hey, she did manage to break my nose,” Chuuya looked at Yosano who had watched the exchange from afar. “Hey Yosano, can you heal her ankle for me?”

“Yeah, I can. I can’t guarantee it’ll be a pleasant experience, though,”

Junichiro visibly shivered at the thought of Yosano healing. It seemed he had his fair share and was okay if he never had to do it again. 

Getting healed by Yosano was an... interesting experience. You could now understand the sorry looks Junichiro and everyone else gave you. 

Once back home, you didn’t really know what to do. It was well into the evening now, the sky fading into orange and red hues. Chuuya had gone upstairs and told you to “pick whatever room you want” to sleep in, so you guessed the living room would be fine. 

The floor in there was carpeted and looked comfortable, and you had slept on worse. You didn’t know where any blankets or pillows were, so you settled for a towel you found in the bathroom and a throw pillow that was on the lavish couch. You had pondered sleeping on the couch, but one look at the red velvet and you opted against it. Chuuya might not want you to touch any of his things. You had made that mistake once with Mori, and you knew how strong Chuuya was. You weren’t sure if you could activate your ability before he could do serious damage. 

As you settled down on the floor, you went over the events of today in your head, you noticed a few things.

One, Dazai didn’t have the unhinged and cold look in his eyes as he always did when he trained you. 

Two, though they were supposed to be your enemies, Chuuya went to the ADA without hesitation.

Three, Dazai looks at Atsushi the same way Chuuya looks at Akutagawa. Dazai never looked at you or Akutagawa that way. 

And finally, someone was lying about what happened to your Parents. Mori told Chuuya they were traitors and Dazai took you to the Port Mafia, but he didn’t. 

Though you were very young, you remember that day as if it were yesterday.

You ran through the park, having the time of your life. The sun shone down on you as you rolled about in the grass, relishing the feeling of how it tickled your arms and legs. However, you were rather surprised when you suddenly could not roll any further. Confusion clouded your face as you could not see anything that would stop you from moving forward. It was like there was a wall in your path, though you could see none. Standing upright on your chubby legs, you tried to walk backwards, but collided with something else solid. Immediately, the park disappeared. You were in a dimly lit room, and there was a man standing behind you. He wore a long, dark trench coat, and bandages covered half his face. You did not know this man, and that scared you. You ran in between his legs, attempting to escape but he grabbed you by the hood of your sweatshirt. You kicked and screamed, and wished he could not see you anymore. 

Suddenly the man spoke: “What the-”

You looked down at your hands, but were horrified to see that they were gone. So were your legs, and the rest of your body. You screamed more, you were scared of this man, scared of this room, and scared of the red liquid that coated the floor. 

Scared of the two bodies that looked suspiciously like your parents. 

You ran past the man once more, but this time he did not catch you. 

You ran out of the room, you did not recognize it anymore. Down the hall, to the left where the closet was. Just when you thought you’d made it, you were snatched up off the ground.

It was the same man as before, but this time you did not disappear.

You stayed right where you were, and cried as he walked down the stairs of the second floor, meeting another man downstairs. 

“hey Oda,” the scary man said. For some reason, no matter how hard you tried to remember, the bandage man’s appearance was always blurred, voice always muffled. 

“I think this kid is an ability user. I would take her back to Mori, but she’s seen too much. Should i just kill her now and get it over with?”

The other man was much more friendly looking than the scary man. You reached out to him, hoping he would save you from the nightmares and horrors you’d witnessed today. 

Surprisingly, the man gently took you from the other man’s grasp, and held you softly. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck, crying loudly into his shoulder. 

“No, I’ll take her in. I don’t like to do it, but we can have someone erase her memories. Besides, if Mori hears we killed someone who might be a valuable asset to the Mafia, we won’t hear the end of it,”

“Yeah, you’re right,”

Slowly, the man took you off his shoulder and set you on the floor. He kneeled down until he was eye level with you and then took your tiny hand in his large one.

“Hello, my names Odasaku, but you can call me Oda. What’s yours?”

“Y-Y/N,”

“Good, can you tell me if you’ve ever gone invisible before?”

You shook your head no. “Sometimes, i have dreams during the day. If i think really hard about it, i can dream about being somewhere, and it’s like I’m really there. I tried telling mama and papa, but they yelled at me and told me i was lying,” You turned your big, watery eyes onto Oda. “Are you going to take me back to mama and papa? I don’t wanna go. Mama called me witch and kicks me. And papa won’t even look at me,”

Oda ruffled your hair. ‘No, you’re going to come with us now. You aren’t a with, i think you’re very special. Can you smile for me?”

You gave the nice man a big grin, and he picked you up once, more and walked out of the car. That was the last time you ever saw him, and your parents.

End of FlashBack

You often wondered about Oda, the nice man who took you away from your parents. You often about how Dazai, when he was younger looked a lot like the scary man who almost killed you that day. But Mori would never answer these questions when you asked about them. So, you stopped asking.

3rd Person POV:

Chuuya wasn’t surprised to see you had moved away from the door, where he had left you last night. 

He was however, surprised to see you curled up on the floor, using a bathroom towel as a blanket

He walked over to you, and shook you lightly on the shoulder. “Y/N? What are you-”

White hot pain pierced his thigh, and he screeched as you sliced a long gash down it, blood seeping through his pajama pants. He activated his ability, sending you flying across the room. Your recovery time was insane, because before he could blink, you were attacking again. 

He knew you weren’t yourself, he saw it in the way your eyes were blinded by pure terror. You kept using your ability in short spurts, disappearing and reappearing in different places. What he wouldn’t give to have Dazai’s ability right now. Even in your fear, you were smart. 

You had sustained several injury's, and blood was dripping down into your right eye. 

But you kept going. 

Prolonged use of your ability made you exhausted, and he could see it in the way you swayed on your feet. You disappeared again, but this time reappeared in the kitchen. There you slumped against the kitchen island, exhaustion finally getting the better of you. 

Ability still activated, Chuuya walked towards you calmly, trying not to spook you.

“Y/N? Hey hey, can you please put the knife down? It’s me, Chuuya,”

The fog cleared from your eye’s, and the knife clattered to the ground. 

You fell to your knee’s holding your head in your hands.

“I'm sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-”

“Hey calm down, it’s alright, I'm right here,”

He pried your hands away from your head, noticing how tears were freely flowing down your cheeks. He doubt you even noticed them, too preoccupied mumbling apology's and breathing rapidly.

“Hey, look at me,” He spoke in a calm, soothing tone. “You’re okay. You’re at my house, and I’m alright. Let’s get you upstairs and clean you up, okay?”

You nodded slowly, shakily getting up and starting to walk towards the stairs.  Chuuya looped his arm over your shoulder to support you as you walked. Slowly but surely, you managed the stairs.

“I’m going to give you some of my clothes to wear, okay? We’re about the same size, so we should be fine,”

He handed you a pair of grey sweatpants and a black sweatshirt, then stepped out of the room so you could change.

While he sat outside the door, he contemplated what could have caused this episode. He’d read the file on your ability, and as far as he understood, you could use it on yourself, and not necessarily just other people. So, it’s possible that when you dream, your ability activates and you genuinely experience them. And because you’d been through intense training since ten, he doubted your dreams were all that pleasant. He came to the conclusion that you were still under the influence of your own illusion, and assumed he was an attacker. 

The door opening snapped him out of his thoughts, and he snapped his head up to where you were standing rather uncomfortable in his clothes.

“All right, I have a medicine kit in my bathroom, we can get you patched up in there,”

You were silent the whole time he cleaned you wounds, and did not even peep or stiffen when he put alcohol on a particularly nasty cut on your face. 

“There, all finished,”

You never moved from your spot on the side of the bathtub, looking at the cold tiles on the bathroom floor.

“Why,” You whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Why do you treat me so nicely? I'm just a tool, something replaceable,” you’re voice rose with each passing second, and your eyes burned with unshed tears.

“I can’t even do my job right. If I can’t do that, then what am i worth? I’m meant to be used and thrown away, that's what Mori always told me, That’s what Dazai always told me!”

“So why,” You glanced up at Chuuya’s face, his cerulean depths brimming with guilt and sadness.

“WHY DO YOU KEEP TREATING ME LIKE I’M WORTH SOMETHING?” You were full on sobbing now, an action you hadn’t done in a long time. The tears on your face felt foreign, and you were confused. Why were you crying? You’re stronger than this. Stop it stop it Stop It. 

“I treat you like you’re worth something because you are. You are no less human than I am, and you are worth neither more nor less than Dazai. You are not a tool, you are a human being. I don’t care what Mori and Dazai said, I will continue treating you with respect and decency, because you are not replaceable,”

Though you knew Chuuya had no reason to lie, you had a hard time believing his words. It had been drilled into you that you were just a toll, only meant to follow orders for so long you had a hard time believing anything else. 

But that doesn’t mean you didn’t want to believe Chuuya’s statement.

“Come on, you look exhausted. I know you slept on the floor all night, so you’re going to sleep in a real bed. No buts,” He finished when he saw you open your mouth to protest.

“At least let me clean your injury first,”

Chuuya waved his hand. “I’ll deal with it. It’s not your fault, i should have known startling you wasn’t a good idea. Go get into my bed. That’s an order, Y/N,”

You limped lightly over to the bed and crawled under the silk sheets, thinking they were too nice. The comfortable mattress and expensive sheets were a sharp turn away from the cold, dirty, concrete you slept on when you lived at the Port Mafia hq. 

Nevertheless, you were exhausted from using your ability for so long, so you fell asleep to the sound of Chuuya humming as he stitched his leg. 

A/N: this is knife i was describing, for reference:

It’s called a karambit :)

#chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #dazai #atsushi #kunikida #junichiro #kenji #yosano #mori #ranpo

[lovecolibri]

Things that Spark Joy-3x01

It has been a hot minute since I did one of these and I'm excited! There was some good stuff in this premier that I enjoyed and that I'm excited about. My more salty feelings can be found in the Things that did NOT Spark Joy post, so if you wanna climb into the salt mine with me, check that one out. Also this got long so the Michael/Alex stuff is under the cut. Okay, let’s dive in!

Liz:

I have been...less than excited about yet another tired love triangle but the Heath/Liz telenovela commentary while working cracked me up

bringing that same energy when Liz said she wanted to make his heart race again made me giggle.

I have missed righteously indignant Liz. I have some thoughts on her leaking that patent but I can’t say I blame Liz for that 

Her knowledge of electric currents from working with Max 🥺 

Heist/criminal Liz was so much fun! 

Still got a feeling Heath is gonna be involved in something like Deep Sky and is trying to recruit Liz (helping her out of a jam/revealing personal information about his mom are a great way to earn her trust, just saying, +comments like “who hurt you” and he wasn’t trying to “ruin her” which are Max triggers. Also he mentioned if she was going to be a “mad scientist” to do it better, but there no reason to call her "mad” because what she did wasn’t about the KIND of research she was doing, so that all perked my ears up. Again, love triangles are 🙄 but I’m interested at least to see what’s going on with his character.)

Glad to see Liz is allowed to be angry for awhile this time as one of the major issues with season 1 was her forgiving Max too soon so they could be “together” in time for Max to die.

Kyle: 

MY SWEET SON KYLE! So happy to see him!!

CA conference is a great way to make sure Liz has contact with Roswell, but also a great way to sweep that weird side plot from last season out of the way. 

I have always loved their banter and Liz insisting that Kyle be Team Liz while feeing him a vending machine lunch was funny. 

I’m a little ??? about him pushing her to move on because Max isn’t coming when he knows Max isn’t coming because he’s dying and Liz is going to be PISSED when she finds out he knew and didn’t tell her, but Kyle is SO GOOD about not breaking confidence which in a drama show is nice to see. Although with a show that already has a huge communication problem it might be helpful if SOMONE spoke up about stuff occasionally?

I’m hopeful this is kicking off a whole season of Kyle actually getting to be involved and interacting with everyone.

Kylex brotp scene! And Alex implies that this is something they do often so I’m very excited to see what else we get from them this season, especially with Alex bringing up Jim Valenti. 

Also, as much as just “borrowing” an ambulance (especially if you’re not certified and insured to drive it) is probably not feasible, I’m giving the show a pass because Kyle deserves to be dramatic AF if he wants to while lecturing people who refuse to listen to him. 

His little “I need to get a circle of people who can’t unlock doors with their minds” line was funny and I’m so happy to see SOMEONE bothering to tell him “thank you” for all the extra work he does for all of them. My Kybel feelings are baaaack!!

Rosa: 

So happy to have her back in town and trying out different therapies to find what works for her, even if her mom is sending sketchy drugs through the mail, apparently. But maybe now that Rosa has her plans from last season to take down Jesse SOMEONE can explain what exactly her whole plot was at some point? Because I’m still so confused...

As for things that make me chuckle, Wyatt trying to argue that his painting was a cactus and not a penis by pointing out “There’s a flower on that testicle!” was up there, as was Rosa flat out telling Wyatt she must be Rosa’s ghost. Her little delighted “boo!” was so funny! More happy, shenanigan having Rosa please! 

As for them going with Rosalinda and thinking no one would notice... Honestly? I don’t think most people would. If they’re pushing the “everyone here is pretty racist” card, I can see people making snide comments about how “of course” there were other cousins with similar names.  

I have...concerns about where things are going in the storyline with her and Wyatt, but whoo boy that final scene was intense and Amber continues to deliver great performances. (But also where is Arturo? I miss him! And you’d think he’d have noticed all the banging/yelling/lights flickering. I just want him to be okay and be around!) And hey those mind-altering drugs from mommy saved the day I guess! And there were several syringes so is she going to keep dosing him? I am interested/scared to find out what happens here.

The Pod Squad: 

I am LOVING the three of them going out together just to have fun and not because they are fighting some threat or coming to each other’s rescue. 

Their little game in the mindscape was super fun and getting to see new powers from Max and Isobel and Michael working together to fight off Jones was great.

Vlamis broke my heart with Michael saying that despite all the other things going wrong in his life, he was happy because they were all getting along. Someone get that boy a stable support system, STAT! 

So sad that Max and Michael are always on different pages when it comes to wanting to learn more and they’ve flipped from last season. I’m looking forward to them getting on the same page and working TOGETHER.

I’m wondering what Michael built that cage out of though because it definitely looks like the alien glass. Did he dismantle his console? Did he find a way to do it safely since apparently forcing it apart is...not suggested? Or did he just use the broken pieces from the previous cage which doesn’t explode when forced apart? I want to see more genius Michael!

They haven’t told anyone about him and given that Jones looks like Max, I can practically feel the shenanigans coming! Also, with the vision I think it’s interesting we are seeing a LOT of emotion from Isobel, but Alex is just pissed which makes me wonder if Isobel had a hand in the death and that’s why she’s so upset?

I still have mixed feelings about Max and his choices, but him listening to Liz’s voice as a comfort because he knows he won’t see her again before he dies got me. I am not immune to the soulmate feels 😭

But also, Liz was complaining about having nothing left of her research but Max did save some of it which is going to be another “Isobel thinking of Jones, ‘this is a super secret tool that will help us later!’” moment.

General note of fun, my dude Bert is back and I love him!

Michael:

I already talked about the sibling bonding, but we also got happy, sassy Michael in a soft sweater and I am LOVING it.

Michael fixing his hair in that window KILLED me! I know everyone is like, “why did he fix it and then immediately put his hat back on?!” but if you notice, his curls weren’t their normal springy selves and I feel like he took a look and was like, well crap! and put the hat back on. Which begs the question, did he know exactly when Alex was coming back, or just a general idea that was confirmed last minute because he didn’t look like he’d just showered or anything. Or did he sneak away from work just to welcome Alex home? No matter what, I’m going to go cry into a pillow now.

I love that Michael says he doesn’t want to fall back into old habits which means he has recognized where some of his issues are and is actively working on improving things for himself. Because he lists all the things that went wrong, but he was still happy because he had his family and he’s been making a concentrated effort to hold on to that happiness which is hard for someone like him who grew up how he did. 

I gotta say I love when Michael lists things from the past year to “catch the audience up” on stuff, that he uses Alex’s name specifically but no one else’s, because Alex is the important thing going forward.

Michael giving a sarcastic “howdy partner” cracks me up. I love him so much!! But also, he’s been going through the Caulfield research (alone is sounds like 😭) and managed to build an alien power-canceling cage which is just further proof of his genius. More Science!Michael this season please! (With Alex making heart eyes about it!)

Alex:

HE LOOKS SO GOOOOOD!!! 

If he doesn’t get to rip that statue down by the end of the season I’m going to riot.

I have other thoughts about f*rlex that will be in the other post but having it be casual and long distance and end quickly really settled at lot of the fears around how they were going to handle that particular storyline without totally undermining the soulmates story which we already had to deal with ALL of last season. I wasn’t totally pleased, but for Chris and Co having a huge mess to clean up and being stuck with this plot that should have ended last season, I think they did a decent job of not just ending it, but tying it into where Alex is going this season with Deep Sky

Speaking of, color me intrigued about what they need specifically Alex and his skills for, that would get him such a high entry level! I am crossing my fingers SO HARD for lots of BAMF, smart AF Alex this season. I just hope Michael is around to make heart eyes at some of it. 

Also, the return of sassy Alex Manes! “babe, I’m a cold blooded mercenary” with the hand gestures and everything cracked me up! He is a bitch and I love him so much.

Kylex brotp gets a second mention because we were ROBBED of getting this last season. And again, Alex is looking so good!! I also like that, like Michael, he mentions a vague “cute guy” but no name because he was more attached to the idea of what something could be with a guy like Forrest, than the actuality. And I’m saying again, if the show doesn’t end with Alex making the choice to walk away into the sunset with Michael then what is even the point of anything?

I was prepared for the Vlamis Glassy Eyes thanks to that sneak peek, but I was NOT prepared for Tyler’s Glassy Eyes 😭😭😭 As much as things were casual he was still letting go of a possible future, and one that would probably be a lot easier than the one he’s looking at right now. But I love that this is something where he got to make the choice. Like, yeah Michael is obviously in the back of his mind since he mentioned aliens when discussing Deep Sky with Forrest, but there is no immediate threat towards him or Michael, nothing is forcing his hand, he takes his time and thinks about it and makes a choice. Influenced in part by his past, this past year shutting down his dad’s work, and Michael (and Max and Isobel), yes, but still a choice he was allowed to think about and make on his own, and I love that for him.

Overall there were a lot of things I enjoyed, and some things I’m still a little iffy about but willing to see where they go and what they do with them now that c*rina is gone. No Alex probably next episode which is a travesty, but I’m holding out hope episode 3 will give us Malex interacting FINALLY (it’s been 84 years) and I personally think that c*rina never being allowed to write another Malex scene sparks the MOST joy of everything. Until next week, folks! 

#roswell nm #things that spark joy #season 3 spoilers

[bigkyle990]

A Witchy Pirate part 1

Dumb idea I have, going along with my constant mass crossover of many characters all on the same Pirate crew in the One Piece universe. This one following some of the misadventures of Luz Noceda, both on the world of One Piece(I like to call it Great Blue) and back home on her return to the Boiling Isles (which may happen sooner than later, depending on how I feel and if I want her time on Great Blue to be in flashbacks and the like).  Hope y’all enjoy my ramblings. 

making a cut cause it would be a super long post otherwise. 

“Luz! Hold on kiddo!” Eda yelled as she was holding tightly to her apprentices hand. 

Luz could feel her grip starting to slip as she tried to hold tight onto Eda, the wind attempting to separate them seeming to get stronger with each passing moment. “I’m trying! Eda please don’t let go!” She yelled desperately trying to reach her other hand back, but wasn’t able to because of the winds. Things had gone wrong fairly quickly for the small group of rebels that had been attempting to stop Belos’s ‘Day of Unity’ and whatever his plans had been for the portal. They had been able to break through to the portal itself, ready to destroy or simply steal the reassembled door to the human world. When they had attacked though, the fire glyphs set on the machine didn’t exactly break it, but somehow had forced it to start up. 

The next thing they knew, it had broken into a vortex that began trying to draw in those close to it. Which unfortunately for Luz, was herself and Eda. Said witch had been able to use her staff and a Plant Glyph to hold herself to the ground, but Luz had no such luck as it started pulling on her far too soon for her to brace herself. Eda had just barely had the time to catch her and try to pull her back. “I’m not going too! Just hold o- LUZ!” Eda yelled as she felt her grip finally give way, Luz being drawn towards the portal itself, screaming and trying to seemingly swim her way back towards Eda. “Eda!” Was the last Luz could yell out just as she was pulled through and the portal closing shut right after, leaving only the re-damaged door and busted machine that held it. No sign of the Boiling Isles singular human witch. 

-

Luz found herself groaning as she tried to pick herself up. Her surroundings felt different, a soft rocking feeling, a warm sun beating down on her, and the smell of salt in the air. She slowly pulled herself up on her hands and knees as she tried to look around. Only to shut her eyes quickly from the bright light of the sun invading her vision. After a moment she slowly reopened them and looked on shocked. It looked like she was in the middle of the ocean, in a small dingy of a boat. Was she back in the human world? If so, why was she in the ocean and not by the shack that the portal normally leads to? She didn’t have much time to process things just as a dark shadow rose up behind her and she looked back slowly, only to scream as the massive form of some kind of sea monster tried to crash down on her, maw gaping wide to swallow her whole. Just as it came down, she screamed and felt a rush of wind. First one like she was falling and then a new one holding her up. “You know,” started the voice of a slightly older male as he approached. “If you’re going to have nightmares, it’s best not to take a nap on the figure head, Noceda.” He said with a slight amusement in his voice. Luz’s eyes shot open as she looked towards the voice, finding herself just off the side of the ship, a small vortex of winds holding her up directly over the ocean. “Right… Sorry, thanks for the save Jaune.” She chuckled weakly as she was brought back onto ship. 

The man before her was a tall blond man with blue eyes, who’s chest and part of his face was currently wrapped in bandages, covering fresh wounds from a previous engagement with a rather powerful foe. He was wearing an open black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, along with a pair of blue long pants held up by a red sash around his waist. Over his shoulders was a long blue captain’s coat with golden trimmings and tucked into his belt was a sheathed longsword with black and gold accents on the hilt and the pommel in the shape of a snarling wolf head. 

He was one, Jaune “Blood Wind” Arc, captain of the Arc Pirates, to which Luz currently belonged, and with a firm bounty of 500 million berries. As well as the wielder of the Paramecia Vortex Vortex Devil fruit, that gave him the power to control wind currents at a simple thought. 

“Any time.” he waved off her thanks. “So, same nightmare?” He asked with some concern as he leaned against the bulkhead of the ship. 

Luz sighed as she sat on the deck and nodded. She was far from the young 14 year old girl that Jaune and his budding crew had found and saved in the waters of the North Blue just 4 years ago. Now a young adult of 18, she stood much taller than she had before, both literally and figuratively. While not as tall as her captain, she was close, only about a head shorter then himself, her hair had grown out to be just past her shoulders but still kept the slightly gravity defying effect it had always had. Sticking up in ways that normally shouldn’t be possible, but around the world of Great Blue, it was hardly the weirdest. She had traded out her blue and white hoodie for a green jacket over a blue and white striped shirt underneath, tucked into a pair of dark blue shorts and her normal black leggings still coming out underneath. Much like her captain, she had made a name for herself on these seas, becoming known as “Wild Witch” Noceda. Thanks in part to what she’d picked up from Eda, but also eating a rather powerful paramecia devil fruit of her own, known as the Mage Mage fruit. It’s abilities let her continue to use her glyphs from the Boiling Isles, but without the need for paper or the Titan’s influence to do so. That power along with her own wit and cunning, had earned her an ample bounty of 300 million of her own. She sighed at the question and nodded. “Yeah, I know it’s been a long time since that day, but I can’t help thinking and even dreaming about it… How do you guys cope?” She asked, looking up, only to stop as she felt Jaune’s hand placed on the top of her head in a comforting manner. 

“Bout the same as you honestly,” He said with a small smile. “We keep moving forward and hope we can find our way back home someday. That’s the best we can do right now.” Luz nodded as she leaned against the ship’s walls, pulling her knees up to comfort herself a bit more.  

If there was one thing she was thankful for about this crew, was that it’s main group was made up of people all in similar situations to herself. Each one was from some other world or strange universe that was nothing like this one. Some more simple like the human world from her home, some far stranger than even Great Blue could hope to be. 

It gave them all something to bond over, even with how different most of them were and how little they each wanted to take orders, they all had that one aspect in common. Weirdly enough, it was all they needed to keep together as they searched for ways back. She looked up to Jaune with a slight bit of a smirk on her face. “So, should you really be up and about right now? Your fight with Sakasuki wasn’t that long ago and I don’t think that Bella would be happy to know you’re moving around with those wounds.” Jaune chuckled and shrugged. “I probably shouldn’t, but what the doc don’t know won’t hurt he-” “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU ARC!?” Came the loud voice of the ship’s doctor, one Bella Swan came yelling and crashing out of the ship's sick bay. “Me, it can hurt me…” Jaune finished, a sense of dread washing over him as he quickly ran to get away as Luz laughed at him being chased by the young brown haired woman in a doctor’s coat. “Get back here and get back in bed, damn it! Your burns haven’t healed yet!” Bella yelled as she ran by with new bandages in hand, intent on tying the man to the medical bed this time. 

Luz grinned watching them running around the ship, barreling over a few of the grunts trying to do their day to day upkeep. “Well, I guess I can’t be mad with the new weird family I ended up with.” She said as she stood and started looking out to the, momentarily calm, waters of the New World. “I’ll still find my way home… I want to see everyone again.” She said softly as she held up a hand, creating a light glyph with a simple motion and conjuring a small mote of light. With a light tap, she sent it floating away from the ship and turned to go help with things around her new home.

#writing #mass crossover #Owl house #Luz Noceda #eda clawthorne #Jaune Arc #One piece crossover #OnePieceau #the owl house #Lumity #eventually #probably be plenty of angst and some goriness later on #so be warned

[sabraeal]

Seven Swipes for Shirayuki, Chapter 2

Prologue | Chapter 1

Obiyukiweek 2020, Day 1: Fair Play Never attack an unarmed foe. Never charge an unhorsed opponent. Never attack from behind. Avoid cheating. Avoid torture.

“You don’t have to go.”

Newspaper crumples beneath her hands, but the smell of ink and wood pulp steadies her, keeps her on her feet instead of-- of going right over there and giving him a piece of her mind the way her father taught her. Shirayuki braces herself against the island, willing her feet to stay put, to stay rooted right on the tile. Sure, she’ll feel good when she does it, righteous anger filling her right to brim, but once that’s gone, all she’ll have left is--

Is regret. No, not that, never that, but she knows from experience: anger can keep you going, but it hollows you out when it’s done, and she’s just...tired of that. She’s cried her tears over this; she won’t waste more on a situation that can’t be changed.

With a steeling breath, she lays the paper flat again, the chill of the marble seeping through the print. She grabs a dish from the pile, wrapping it so tight it has hospital corners before stacking it in the box. Another inhale, another dish, over and over again. She has to keep her hands busy, otherwise she’ll have to talk, and if she talks--

Well, like she said; she’s done with crying.

“Shirayuki--”

“I know,” she manages, finally. “But I should.”

“No.”

Obi’s over by the oven, but she can feel him stiffen, shoulders hunched and hackles raised. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t look, but his chin tilts just so and she knows, she knows he’s aware of every body in this room.

“No, Shirayuki...” Zen sighs, dragging runnels through the shaggy mop of his hair. “I didn’t mean-- it’s just-- it’s not fair that not only am I...” He bites his lip, thankfully stopping that train of thought before it starts. “You shouldn’t have to lose your home on top of...everything else.”

Her gaze fixes on Obi’s back, on the way the yoke of his shirt stretches tight against the width of his shoulders, taunt over the tank beneath like skin over bone. “You’re right. It’s not.”

“Then...stay.” His voice is so soft, so earnest, she wants to believe in it, in him. That if she only sat down, if they only talked, they could find some way out of this whole mess. “There’s no reason you can’t. We’ve always been friends.”

But that’s the problem, isn’t it? They’ve had six years and yet, yet--

They’ve never had the talks that matter. She’s not sure they ever knew how.

“And we’ll always be friends. It’s just...” So many words vie to be the ones that fall from her lips, but she carefully picks, “It’s better that I’m not here.”

It’s only half a sentence, but she’s too kind to say the rest: to watch you be happy with your model wife. Instead it just sits on her tongue, searingly bitter before she swallows it down.

He’ll never hear them, not from her, which for him is just as good as not knowing. Zen’s never been able to hear what she won’t speak out loud. Not that she’s any better. Ah, that’s probably why they made it this far in the first place.

“That’s not true,” he says, “this is where you belong, even if we’re not--” his breath hitches-- “listen, it’s not like it would be weird for me to have a physician on call. Plenty of people do.”

That pulls her up short. Zen makes it so easy to forget that he isn’t just some-- some normal guy she knows, someone moderately wealthy, whose family has a house with too many guest rooms and who got a car for his sixteenth birthday. But sometimes--

Sometimes he says things like this, and she remembers the number of zeroes in a Forbes article. He’s literally almost too rich to function.

A box clangs next to her on the island, Obi’s knuckles blanched where he holds it. “Plenty of people also pay to keep mistresses on call too,” he says, so casual, “I wonder which one they’ll think you are, Miss?”

Zen cheeks flush so red he might as well have been slapped. “What do you mean by--?”

“Obi,” she manages, voice strained. “Don’t you think you should...?”

She nods to the box. He takes a breath, eyes narrowing to an angry slant.

“Right,” he breathes, hefting it into his arms. “This is all packed up. I should take it out to the car.”

Her eyes catch his, holding his gaze meaningfully. “I think that might be best.”

“Yeah, well.” He shifts the box, careful not to look at either of them. “Call me if you need me.”

Zen loiters in the doorway, and for a hot minute, she’s convinced Obi will barrel right through him, that he’ll take those shoulders of his and knock Zen to the floor.

But he doesn’t. The way Obi moves has only ever had a passing acquaintance with the known laws of physics, and now is no different. The math says there’s no way two men of their dimensions could fit in a single doorway and not touch, but Obi manages it without even looking, box and bodyguard both.

Zen sucks in a breath like he’s been hit, air hissing through his teeth as he pointedly does not look at the place Obi is not.

“I’m sorry it ended up like this,” he says after the wound in the room stops bleeding. “You have to know that I didn’t...”

Have a choice. That’s what he wants to say, what he always says when his brother’s machinations scuttle their plans. But that’s not true here. There was a choice, a clear one.

And he chose Izana over her. She can’t even say she’s surprised. She can’t even say she blames him.

“Garrack told me you quit your job at the hospital,” he says, so soft. “You don’t have to do that. Not because of me.”

“It’s not.” She stacks another dish in her box. “It just made the decision easier.”

“Shirayuki...” His foot hovers, but still, he won’t cross into the room. “Where are you even going to go?”

Shirayuki bites her lip, folding cardboard flaps. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Of course I do!” he snaps, pushing his hair back. “Just because I had to-- to do this doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

It does. Or at least it should. It would if he was anyone else; if he was just some guy she met in a medical library, trying to hide from her boss. Someone who had enough money to ruin a Ralph Lauren polo without batting an eye, but not--

Not someone who owned a hospital outright. Not someone who could split his life into before my trust fund matured and after. The guy she thought she’d met all those years ago.

But he’s not that, he’s-- this. With all the baggage and responsibilities that come with it. Including the model fiancée.

“I want to be with you,” he manages, finally, every word pulled painfully from his lips. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Her fingers clench on the box, cardboard denting under her grip. It’s right there, trapped behind her teeth, why didn’t you--?

But that’s not-- not fair to ask. Not when she knows how heavy this weighed on him, how much he must have tried to avoid it--

“Shirayuki.” His breath hitches in his chest. “You know I didn’t mean for this to happen, not this way. I thought...” His fist thumps gently on the frame. “I would never humiliate you, not on purpose.”

“I...” Her mouth works, even if her throat won’t, even if all she can manage is a croaking, “I know.”

“Do you?” His voice breaks, caught in his chest, and it’s only her grip on this box that stops her from going to him, that stops her from telling him it’s all right.

It’s not all right. But that doesn’t mean it’s his fault. Not entirely. “Zen...”

“Shirayuki, you know that I...”

She turns to him then, box in hand, and his knuckles are white where they clench the jamb. His gaze is fixed to the floor, to the tile she broke that first night she moved in, when the bottle hit the floor after he-- he--

(”There’s champagne in the fridge,” she says, blinking as she crouches among the shelves. “Did you order this?”

There’s a laugh in his voice when Zen answers, “No.” He shuffles around behind her, breath hot on her ear, and oh, he’s just-- this is very close-- “But there’s a note.”

“Oh!” she squeaks, staring at his hand as it snakes over her shoulder, gently tugging the embossed card off the bottle. “Then who--?”

“My brother.” The humor’s leached from his voice now, lifeless and annoyed. “He says he hopes you are not disappointed by the humble dimensions of your apartment.”

She blinks, sitting back on her heels. The bottle sits heavy in her hand, so wide and awkward. “Humble? This is almost as big as my grandparents’ place. Obi and I could go whole days without meeting, if we tried.”

Zen shrugs, a twitch of his shoulders. “I asked for a bigger one.”

To ask why would only invite madness. The kitchen here might be larger than her old apartment, but anything less than a three-floor penthouse is pauperish to this crowd.

“Come on.” Zen holds out a hand, smile wide. “Let’s at least enjoy the rare fruits of my brother’s kingly generosity.”

She giggles, letting him pull her to her feet, but it catches in her throat as they pause. He’s so close, only a single tile separating them.

His eyes flicker up, meeting hers, and ah, she’s seen that before, the barely-banked heat in his eyes. Her heart flutters against its cage, and she doesn’t know whether her instincts are telling her flight or fight, not when he tugs her in, and she, inexorably, comes.

Shirayuki has never been one for kissing-- it’s messy, for one, and she never knows where to put her nose-- but with Zen it’s simple, it’s uncomplicated. He holds her, one arm banding around her shoulders, pulling her close to the narrow shape of his body. He feels like his kiss, warm and delicate, the bare tracery of his ribs rising up against her fingers.

They part, a scant breath between them, and she can see how his hooded eyes watch her, feel how his heart pounds beneath the cotton of his button-down. “Shirayuki, I...”

He leans in again, lips brushing hers, but it’s different this time, like he’s-- he’s testing her.

His hands curl around her shoulders as he pulls away, holding her fast. The heat still lingers in his eyes, but it’s not just that which darkens them, oh no, but something heavier, something more meaningful.

“Shirayuki.” He takes a deep breath, not a hint of humor in him. “I lo--”

With a clink, a crack and a fizz, liquid seeps into her socks, and-- “Oh!” she yelps, springing back. “The champagne!”

The bottle, so sturdy in her hand, is now in a half dozen pieces on the floor, fizzy drink everywhere and only fit for a paper towel.

“I hope that wasn’t expensive,” she breathes, hands clapped to her face.

Zen laughs lowly. “Oh, it was. But not as expensive as that.”

Her gaze drops, fixing to the large crack in the terracotta tile. “Ohh,” she moans, traipsing over to the sink, grabbing a sheaf of towels. “You are not getting your deposit back on this place.”

“It’s fine,” he mutters, cheeks flushed, “I own it, after all.”)

Zen’s lips seal around his words, just as they always did, just like they always would. That’s the thing, isn’t it? He could never bring himself to say it. And she--

Well, she’d only managed the once.

“I guess that’s it for this box,” she says brightly, tucking it firm against her chest. “I should-- I should bring this down to the truck.”

“R-right.” He shuffles in the doorway, and when he situates himself, he’s just outside, hovering in the hallway.

“Great.” She walks toward him, stilted, as if she’s barefoot and the carpet is gravel, like every step hurts, and--

Well, it does. She draws level with him in the door, and even though she can feel every molecule of air between them, his body is too far out of her ambit to reach.

“What are you going to do?” he asks, too soft, his foot edging too close. “Where are you going to live?”

“Zen...” She steels herself, lifting her gaze to meet his. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

His inhale is sharp, a stab. “Shirayuki, I couldn’t live with myself if you...if I...”

His words flounder in the air between them, as awkward and foreign as fish out of water. She-- she doesn’t know what worst case scenario his mind conjures, what imagined fault he’s ready to nobly fall upon, and in the end-- she doesn’t want to.

If he can’t walk away from her, she’ll have to walk away from him. No surprise; the Wisterias have always let the hardest tasks fall to her.

“Well then,” she breathes, heart beating hard in her chest, “it’s a good thing you brother already took care of all that.”

(”You’ll forgive him, won’t you?” There’s no concern in his voice, no curiosity, just a polite inquiry to bring the conversation to where he wants it. Izana Wisteria is as sleek as his leather interior, and twice as slippery. “It was, after all, a mistake. Inexperience makes fools of us all.”

Funny how acceptable that explanation is when it’s her that’s been made ridiculous. He hadn’t been so gracious about Laxdo ward all those years ago.

“You don’t have to pretend you care,” she informs him, fingers clenched around her phone. It’s been buzzing nonstop for the last mile; even with a whole morning spent, Yuzuri still hasn’t run out of ways to ruin Zen’s life. It’d be sweet, if she wasn’t so-- so--

Empty.

“No,” Izana agrees, crossing his legs at the knee. It’s a full-size limo, but those legs leave her crushed in the corner, no room unless she wants to risk playing footsie with the man who owns half of LA. “I suppose I don’t. Not with you.” The corner of his mouth twitches, and he turns away, covering it with a hand. “Which must be why I do.”

There’s nothing she can say to that. Ah, what she wouldn’t give for Obi to be here, for him to remind her of all the reasons she’s very angry.

“Don’t think this is some...condolence ,” he tells her, voice muted by the vacuum of leather and carpeting. “I had planned to ask you even before this all was so...certain.”

“A severance package?” she offers waspishly, if only because she knows he likes the sting. His teeth peek out from behind his lips; as much of a smile she has ever seen from him.

“Yes, not that at all.” His mouth curves, amused. “I do nothing out of pity, Shirayuki, least of all business. I planned long ago to try to woo you over to my employ, this only...accelerated the timetable.”

“I see,” she hums, and for once, she believes him, if only because Izana Wisteria has no more reason to lie to her. Not when he’s gotten what he wanted all along.

“Of course,” he continues, waving an absent hand, “I thought this would be in addition to your duties at the hospital.” He fixes her with a raised brow. “I do know how much you value your independence.”

She’s known Izana for too long, for she hears exactly what he means to say: or at least the illusion of it.

“I will admit, however,” he drawls, “that I do find this a more convenient state of affairs.”

Her hands clench in her lap, the soft jersey of her skirt slick against her palms. “How nice that everything worked out for you, then.”

His brow cants, wryly. “I cannot help but point out, everything is working out for you as well.”

“F-funny,” she manages, throat aching with every word, “it doesn’t really feel like it right now.”

Her fingers blur, lost in the pastel flowers, until it’s almost like one of those paintings at the MFA, all blotchy colors to make up a bigger picture. Maybe this would all come into focus too, if she wasn’t so close to it.

“No.” The word is too soft for Izana, too human. “I don’t imagine it would.”

“Don’t.” The word bursts out of her before she can stop it, but still, still-- she stands behind it. “Don’t pretend you feel sorry.”

“I don’t,” he assures her. “This was how it was meant to be. However...” he hesitates, the tip of his tongue coming out to wet his lips, “...I can regret that my brother’s illusion didn’t last longer.”

He clears his throat, and she could swear that there’s the barest blur of pink on his cheeks as he says, “In any case, the contract would stipulate that you could retain your current staff, if that sort of arrangement would please you.”

She blinks. “My staff?”

“Your bodyguard,” he clarifies, head rolling along its axis to meet her gaze. “What was his name...? Obi.”

“O-oh.” She hadn’t even thought-- she had barely even remembered that he was Zen’s, not just another security detail hired on by the hospital, not just there, just for her. But now she’s reminded, and--

And she thinks of that giant penthouse, absurd for just the two of them, only now with one less tenant. Of sitting in her office with only the white noise of the vents. Of trying to live around the silence of his absence, one day at a time.

“Yes.” She’s too breathless, too eager. “I would. I mean, if he agrees to come with me.”

Izana’s lips curve into a bemused smirk. “I doubt that will be a problem.”

She’s half-tempted to ask him what he means by that, but he glances up, pinning her with a look that she’d see on barn cats that had caught themselves a good vole for dinner. “As for my brother...I’ll leave informing him of this new arrangement to your discretion.”

“Ah.” The sound huffs out her, a palpable hit. “I see. That’s...” she swallows, throat thick, “one way to pass the buck, I suppose.”

He laughs, quick and sharp; it startles her. “Isn’t it?” The floor beneath them rolls to a stop. “Ah, it seems we’ve arrived.”

A quick glance over her shoulder confirms: that’s the front of her apartment building, doorman already hurrying over to help with the limo door. “Oh, we have.”

The door opens, the din of the outside world rushing in. Tires crunch on the pavement, birds chirp distantly from overhangs; somewhere down the street someone must take a left from the right lane, the protests of other motorists bleat angrily in response. Shirayuki slides her feet around the corner of the bench, one foot hanging out, just about to brush the curb--

And she hesitates. Her gaze fixes where the limo kisses the sidewalk, and this-- this is the moment, the end of the rabbit hole. This is where Alice steps out of Wonderland.

“I’ll have the contract sent over in the morning.”

Shirayuki jolts, sole scraping the sidewalk as she turns, wide-eyed. His gaze is fixed to her, oddly intent. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Dr. Lyon.” His mouth twitches toward a smile. “I’m quite looking forward to this arrangement.”

Her hands fist in her lap, curling around the film of her skirt. Oh, how foolish she was to think that this was an end, that even something like this could possibly be her exit from this world. This isn’t where Alice ends her adventure-- oh no, this is where she walks through the looking glass.

“Thank you,” she manages, smoothing her palms against her thighs. “And, ah...congratulations.”

Izana Wisteria is known to smirk, known to grin, known to even, at times, leer. But now, now--

He smiles. Ear-to-ear, tooth-baring, and pleased.

Maybe if he did that more often, she might be able to forgive him for all this. Eventually.

She slides along the leather, stone solid beneath the sole of her flat as she moves to leave, but she catches a glimpse of black and white lingering against a palm tree. Even from the corner of her eyes, she knows him, knows that casual lean and languid tilt of the head.

“One more thing,” she hears herself say.

Izana raises a brow. “Go on.”

His sunglasses might be mirrored, but she knows his gaze meets hers, even this far away. “Obi gets a raise.”)

Her fingers tremble, stilled only by where she presses them against the box’s sides, but it does nothing for the jellied state of her knees, for the way she feels like she might lose her entire lunch if she does anything more than just stand here and breathe.

In. Out. This is-- fine. It’ll be fine. The hurt is only momentary. What did Opa always say? What doesn’t kill you keeps you moving.

Right, she just has to-- do that. Keep moving. Putting one foot in front of the other until all this is just a reflection in the rearview. She’s done it before, she can do it again.

It’s only-- she thought she was done with this, with losing everything.

Her feet guide her around the corner, and--

And Obi lazes between the bank of elevators, box tucked under his arm and head tilted back, relaxed. Starched cotton stretches across his chest, rucked up at his elbows. Even like this, even rumpled and at rest, eyes closed, she knows he’s aware of her, of how many steps it would be to put himself between her and any potential danger.

Shirayuki stops, shoes scuffing to a standstill. One eye slits open, gold peeping through a net of black.

“Good?” he asks, mouth tense at the corners. Behind him, the elevator creeps up the shaft, its whirring muffled by the walls. Still, she can see the numbers tick up behind him, an old timey affectation for a building this new, 7...8...9...

“Yeah.” Her fingers clench. The box’s corners are cardboard, but they cut into her knuckles still. “Great. Just...fine.”

Both eyes open now, narrow brows raising straight to the bristle of his hairline, and ah, she should know better than to put on her brave face when he’s so practiced at looking straight past it.

“It’s only...do you think we could...?” She hesitates, hugging the box closer to her chest. “Maybe we should ask the movers to get the rest.”

The doors ding, parting, and he sticks out a hand to hold it. “Sure thing, Miss.”

She only realizes she’s been holding a breath when she lets it go, practically deflating as she steps into the car. “Good. Great.”

“They’re already on their way.”

Her head jerks up, twisting to stare at him, and he-- he just smiles, a soft curl at the corner of his lips before he sets a knuckle on the L button.

Shirayuki breathes, staring down at the box in her arms. Maybe she hasn’t lost everything this time.

#obiyukiweek20 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #seven suitors #seven swipes #ans #modern au #once again we haven't QUITE reached the premise of this fic #but we are EVER INCHING CLOSER #i probably could have done an 8K chapter and gotten where I originally planned but like... #i like to believe i have learned since SS #4-5K is fine for a chapter #even if this is all painful

[timetoresurface]

secrets (5) / BBH

Y/N x CEO BAEKHYUN

final 5k words

PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4 // PART 5

Hopping from one job to another, you really wanted to keep your position at Banking and Finance. If you would have to describe your perfect work environment, it definitely wouldn’t be at that stupid finance magazine that had the worst coffee machine in history. But hey, it did pay the bills, and that’s what everyone does, right? A perfect job doesn’t exist, right? A perfect life doesn’t exist, right? Only in cheap romantic comedies was life perfect, and you certainly weren’t in any. At least the last time you checked.

“Have you ever seen the movie ‘Confessions of a Shopaholic’?” Chanyeol asked you during your second meeting that week. You dropped your pen and simply nodded your head for him to continue. ”Well, that’ where I’ve got my inspiration from.” His voice sounded uncertain, almost childlike.

“What do you mean?” You asked him softly. You had grown a soft spot for Chanyeol over the last couple of days. He was polite, funny, and a wonderful gentleman. He knew exactly what to say and how to make you feel good. Not in the way that Baekhyun made you feel, but he was kind enough to distract you for a while.

“At first glance, you’re just a pretty girl, but you actually know your stuff.” He simply stated, not daring to look into your eyes. He did just call you beautiful. That’s kind of embarrassing.

“Most people don’t dare to look behind the beautiful girl part. So, thank you for pushing through.” You thanked him, showing him your biggest smile.

“It wasn’t that hard.” He chuckled lowly, and you felt like you were going to melt into a puddle onto the floor.

“So, what about the movie?” You asked him, changing back the subject before the conversation got too awkward for you to handle.

"They had the lead have this column about banking stuff in easy terms. We’re not going to do it like that, but that’s what inspired me.” He explained, and you couldn’t help but find him cute. His big doe eyes were endearing, and you couldn’t look away. He might dress in fancy suits and is actually a big shot guy, but he was still human. He even showed his insecurities and weird thought processes.

“So, do you like watching romantic comedies?” You teased him softly while touching his arm gently. He looked a bit taken aback, but he let it happen nonetheless. Suddenly the door of the meeting room was forcefully pushed open, revealing a fuming Baekhyun.

“Oh, hello, Baekhyun! Are you checking up on our progress?” Chanyeol smiled at him. The two of them were more friends than colleagues you had figured out while working with Chanyeol. He could never stop talking about how great Baekhyun was, and what kind of crazy stories they got themself into. You did love Chanyeol’s anecdotes about Baekhyun, but you would rather hear them from the man himself. Which would be demanding as you were ignoring his presence.

“It doesn’t seem like you two are doing very much.” He stated firmly, and Chanyeol straightened his back. He had also once told you that when Baekhyun was pissed, you should watch yourself.

“We’re actually almost finished, mister Byun.” You told him dryly while removing your hand from Chanyeol's arm. Baekhyun noticed your retreating hand, and his eyes hardened.

“Show me what you’ve got.” He demanded while seating himself opposite you. He didn't even acknowledge Chanyeol as his eyes were too busy scanning you. His eyes never left your face though, he seemed to be looking for something, but you had no clue what that could be.

“We will present our idea next Tuesday as we promised.” You told him in your most professional voice. Surprise flashed through his eyes, but he quickly composed himself.

“Maybe I can help.”

“We’re presenting our project for you to agree. Wouldn’t it be against protocol if you helped us?” You tried to reason with him. Chanyeol didn’t know what was happening between the two of you but didn’t do anything to stop it. He seemed to enjoy the show you were giving him.

“There are a lot of things against protocol, but that has never stopped you.” His voice dropped lower, and you felt your knees go weaker and weaker. When he looked at you, it was as if every ounce of breath was taken from your lungs. You had a crush on Baekhyun, and your body wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. A crush is nothing more than a lust for someone, right? But still, he is always there on your mind. Whenever you see him, that’s it, you’ll keep thinking about him for the entire day.

“Likewise, isn’t that how you created this company?” Your voice stumbled over the first word, but Baekhyun seemed unfazed. He didn’t seem to be as affected by you, as you were affected by him.

“Seems like we both did our research.” He tilted his head and stared you up and down. His eyes weren’t shy anymore. We were quickly taken out of our trance when Chanyeol’s phone started ringing.

“Excuse me.” He stuttered while walking out of the room with his phone pressed to his ear.

“So…” Baekhyun said, trying to break the awkward silence that had fallen over you.

“So…” you repeated him, looking at your hands. You didn’t want to look into his eyes when you were alone with him. You were scared you would crumble.

“How have you been?” He asked you casually as if you guys were old friends trying to reconnect.

“I’m not doing this.” You thundered while getting up from your chair. At that moment, Chanyeol decided to enter the meeting room again, and he looked puzzled, to say the least.

“What?” Baekhyun and Chanyeol said simultaneously.

“Chanyeol, I think we're done for today, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” You quickly bowed and made your way out of the hell hole. You grabbed your things from your desk and went straight home. You tried so hard to not be affected by Baekhyun, but your mind and body were not in sync.

You were casually doing your work when Chanyeol surprised you at your desk. He had taken off his tie and suit jacket. He had also rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and he looked like a snack. Your colleagues eyed you suspiciously while pretending to do some work. Why did your colleagues even care about these handsome young men? Yes, Chanyeol and Baekhyun were attractive, but they were just too high up to even pretend you got a chance with one of them. You learned the hard way.

When one of them entered your floor, everyone seemed to go in acting mode. Like Chanyeol would even notice them, he had already made it perfectly clear to you that you were the only reason he was spending so much time here. Now that you think of it, Chanyeol had been really interested in you. Asking where you would go out for a drink, or where you’d like to eat. It was adorable that he appreciated your opinion for work-related matters, but also personal issues. It did make you feel a little warm inside.

“Hi, Y/N.” He beamed at you, and you couldn’t stop thinking about a happy puppy who was always excited about everything and anything.

“Hey, Chanyeol.” You returned his greeting with a big smile. Whenever Chanyeol was near, you just couldn’t stop smiling. He had that effect on people, and you’d like to follow the masses. 

“Can I ask you something?” His cheeks turned a little red, but it was a good look on him. It made him more approachable and even more adorable.

“Of course you can. For you everything.” You told him while taking off your reading glasses. He visibly swallowed before talking again. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was nervous. 

“That’s nice to hear. I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner after work?” He mumbled softly. You had to pay attention really hard to understand what he was even saying. Just as your colleagues, who leaned more to your side to understand what he was asking.

“Oh?” Was all you could mutter.

“Nothing too serious because I don’t want to talk about work. I just don’t really know a lot of people in this area, and it would be nice to not dine alone.” He quickly explained, but you just smiled at him.

“I would love to show you around. When do you finish work?”

“When you’re finished.” He confessed, and you laughed. 

“I still have some work to do, but I can be done in an hour.” You told him.

“It’s a date.” He happily exclaimed, but his enthusiasm quickly disappeared after seeing your face. “Not really a date, but you know what I mean.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you in an hour.” You told him while putting your glasses back on your face. Chanyeol practically skipped out of the office, leaving you smiling to yourself. You tried to contain your excitement before your colleagues would swarm your desk with questions.

The hour passed quickly. Luckily for Chanyeol, you didn’t take your work too seriously. The hour was filled with checking a report and scrolling through your horoscope website until you found the one you liked. 

“I’m leaving everyone.” You announced while grabbing your coat. Some colleagues hummed as a response, being too busy with their work. Luckily for your company, some people did take their jobs seriously.

When you made your way down to the entrance of your building, Chanyeol wasn’t there yet. The old security man was still working, so you made your way over to him.

“Long time no see.” You announced your presence, and he glanced up from the book he was reading.

“You must be really busy. I’ve heard you’re working on something special.” He put down his book to talk to you. If that’s not love, you don’t know what love is. Putting down a book could mean a marriage proposal in your world. You would say yes if the old security man asked you. It was a shame he was happily married, and that his wife was the kindest person you had ever met.

“I can’t really tell you, but yeah.” You said proudly while hanging over his desk like a little too excited kid.

“I’m really proud of you.”

“Thank you so much. How’s the book?” You asked him changing the subject.

“Boring.” Both of you laughed at his confession. Why were you even mad at him a couple of days ago? Your head really worked in strange ways sometimes. 

“If I don’t forget, I’ll bring you one of my favourites next week.” You happily told him, but he frowned.

“I appreciate the gesture as I know you’ll probably forget. I’m still waiting for your famous apple pie.” He joked with you, and you blushed. Why did you always forget everything? And why did you tell him you could bake? The last time you had baked something you’d almost set your apartment on fire. You really needed someone who could teach you basic household chores.

“If I don’t forget, I’ll also bring you some homemade apple pie.” You quickly lied to him. Supermarkets sold homemade apple pies too. 

“Y/N!” Chanyeol yelled before making his way over to you. “I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.”

“I almost wanted to leave, luckily for you, my favourite guy kept me company.” You teased Chanyeol, and he almost believed you wanted to leave. His eyes practically fell out of his head. Overacting was a good look on him. You started to think everything was a good look at him.

“Thank you so much for your sacrifice, sir.” Chanyeol joked while bowing.

“Nothing I can not handle. She can be sweet when she wants to be.”

“You never know how you’re going to find her.” Chanyeol agreed, and you rolled your eyes.

“Keeps the job exciting.” Both him and Chanyeol laughed loudly at the remark. Can people stop talking about you as if you weren’t there, that would be great? Thank you.

“Enough about me. Let’s go Chanyeol.” You waved at your friend and grabbed Chanyeol by the arm. 

“Where do you want to go?” He asked you while exiting the office building together. The sun was still shining, which made you really happy. 

“I always go to the same bar.” You explained to him. Baekhyun hadn’t really cared where you were going.

“Which is…?” Chanyeol tried again. 

“A secret.” You told him with your finger over your lips. 

“I don’t really like secrets,” Chanyeol stated, and you had to container your disappointment. Who didn’t like secrets? Everyone has secrets.

“You don’t have any secrets?” You asked him softly.

“No, I’m an open book. Do you have any?” It’s not like it is a bad thing to not have secrets, but you were a tiny little bit disappointed. Maybe he needed a sip of alcohol before he got honest with you.

“I collect secrets.” You joked with him, but it seemed to go right through him.

“How do you even collect secrets.” He asked you seriously, and you sighed. Maybe you could only converse with him about work-related stuff. 

“I scream them into a jar before sealing the lid.”

“Are you kidding?” He asked you uncertain. 

“Of course not.”

“Strange.” He ended the conversation. 

“A little bit, yeah.” You whispered under your breath before opening the door of your favourite bar. Maybe you should’ve gone to another as this place reminded you solely of Baekhyun. How conversation never went dull, and how his lips were a perfect fit on yours. You tried to shake the feeling. 

“What do you want to order?” Chanyeol asked after you were seated at the bar. You liked the spot better you had chosen when you’re with Baekhyun, but you couldn’t exactly tell Chanyeol that. 

“I only drink the signature cocktails. They’re the best.” You told him happily, never taking a look at the menu. You knew their cocktail list by heart.

“I don’t really like cocktails,” Chanyeol remarked while scanning the menu intently. 

“They have a lot of other options too.” You mumbled softly.

“Which one would you like? I’ll order us something.” Chanyeol asked you suddenly.

“I’d like this one.” You told him, showing him your favourite cocktail with your finger. You had to move a lot closer to him to do so, and it didn’t feel right. 

The conversation didn’t flow as you would have expected. And it’s not that Chanyeol wasn’t good company. He was a terrific company, but you just didn’t feel the part. You never really believed in that kind of stuff, but after your encounter with Baekhyun, you might be a believer now. 

“What are you thinking about?” Chanyeol asked you after a couple minutes of silence. 

“Nothing.” You told him off. 

“Is that nothing called Baekhyun?” He asked you waiting for your response. 

“Why would I be thinking about Baekhyun?” You scoffed, trying to hide your surprise. Could he read your thoughts? 

“He seems to be interested in you, and you seem to be annoyed by everything he says and does.” He explains to you, and you couldn’t look him in the eyes. Were you that obvious?

“If he annoys me, why would I be thinking about him outside of work?”

“Love and hate are practically the same things.” He reasoned with you. His face showed a beautiful smile, and you hated yourself for leading on such a wonderful man. 

“I only believe in hate at first sight. Love is something people made up because they weren’t satisfied with their lives.

“Wasn’t it hate at first sight between the two of you?” He asked you jokingly, but you couldn’t laugh. He was right, actually. And you really hated it when people understood something before you.

“Stop reasoning with me.” You told him.

“I really had high hopes for tonight.” He changed the subject again.

“Why’s that?” You asked him while playing with the straw in your drink. 

“Because I like you.” He confessed suddenly.

“Was it love at first sight for you?” You jokingly asked him, but he shook his head in disbelief at your words. 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He laughed softly. 

“I’m sorry.” You apologize.

“Don’t be. Don’t be sorry for being you. I like that about you. That you’re unapologetically you.”

“That’s so cliché of you to say.”

“I do watch romantic movies.” He proudly stated after taking a sip from his drink.

“And you let their stories guide your life.” You commented after also taking a sip from your fruity cocktail.

“I’ve known Baekhyun for a while now, but I’ve never seen him like he is now,” Chanyeol said seriously again. He could really switch from serious to jokingly in a second. It was confusing.

“And what is so different?” You asked him interested. You were tired. You didn’t really want to hate Baekhyun anymore. 

“He seems excited,” Chanyeol stated. 

“Excited?” You repeated him. Why would Baekhyun suddenly seem excited? What changed? 

“When I told him I was having dinner with you tonight, he came alive. He was asking where and when exactly, and not that Baekhyun is a bad friend, but he is never interested in my dating life. At least not like that.” Chanyeol began explaining his reasoning. He thought he had it all figured out. 

“…Also, your little exchange in the meeting room made me suspicious.” He continued his monologue, and you could only listen to his words. Baekhyun came alive when he discovered you went out to eat with Chanyeol. Baekhyun knew you were somewhere right now having fun with someone else. How did that even me you look?

“… It seems you do collect secrets.” He ended, and you half smiled at him. It was a lot to take in. 

“I told you.” You ended the conversation. Both of you said goodbye after the awkward confession/ analyzation of Chanyeol. You needed some time alone to figure things out.

The next couple of days went remotely smooth. You had gotten your hands onto Baekhyun’s schedule, so you knew when and where he was at all times. It was a life saviour. It was the only thing keeping you sane. You had finally taken his shirt back to the office. You didn’t want to keep it, as it held too many memories for you. But you also didn’t want to throw it away as it seemed to be a costly dress shirt. You and Jennie made a plan where you would just leave it in his office when you knew he would be out.

Today was going to be the day. It was finally Friday, and he had lunch plans with some big shot guy you didn’t remember the name of. But he seemed to be necessary , and Baekhyun would never skip that meeting. It was a solid plan because everyone would leave your office around lunchtime to get something to eat. You didn’t need to explain why you had a man’s shirt in your hands, and you didn’t need to tell why you were going to the top floor.

You quietly made your way up to Baekhyun’s office, working your hardest to not look suspicious. Once you closed his office door behind you, you could finally breath again. He wasn’t there, and somehow after all your hard work in avoiding him, you felt a little sad. You patted his shirt after you placed it on his desk. This was it. This is how it ends. 

“We had a good time.” You whispered to the lifeless shirt. 

“We did have a good time, didn’t we?” A voice behind you surprised you. You turned around and saw Baekhyun closing his office door. He wore a pastel coloured suit that complimented his natural skin colour, and you felt your cheeks redden. 

“I’m sorry mister Byun. I was just returning something that was yours.” You explained yourself softly. He didn’t say anything while walking over to his desk, standing right next to you.

“Thank you.” He finally said after looking at the shirt on his desk. It was freshly washed, and neatly folded. “Maybe you should keep it.” He shrugged while holding his shirt out for you to take.

“What?” You stuttered, not being able to control yourself around the handsome man. Why would he even give you his shirt? It didn’t even smell like him anymore, not that you checked.

“You did look good in my shirt. I still think about that moment when you entered the meeting room in my shirt with your cheeks flushed red.” A soft smile spread over his face, but his eyes darkened. If he continued this duality of his, you would get a headache. There was just no deciphering the man. 

“You did rip my shirt, and left me all alone in your room. What else was I supposed to do?” You asked him sarcastically, trying to keep your voice low.

“I really wanted to stay though.” He moved a little bit closer to you, but you backed up against his desk.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore.” You firmly stated while standing up. You didn’t look him in the eyes.

“You haven’t even given me a chance to talk about it.” His hand got hold of your wrist, but you quickly shrugged him off.

“What’s done is done, mister Byun. It is no good to dwell on the past.” You explained to him cooly.

“Is it this easy for you to let us go?” His voice grew angry, but you kept your cold facade. 

“Us? There is no us, mister Byun.” You corrected him.

“Please call me Baekhyun.” He pleaded.

“What do you want from me, Baekhyun?” You yelled at him, you couldn’t hide the frustration anymore. You couldn’t contain the anger you had for the man standing in front of you.

“I just want you.” He confessed quietly, and a part of you wanted his words to be true, but you couldn’t believe him.

“You made it perfectly clear that you can’t have me.” You took a step back, but he was quick to follow.

“I never made myself clear, you simply assumed.” He corrected you, and you glared at him. He couldn’t blame all of this on you.

“Seeing your wife acting all happy was enough proof.”

“Do you like me?” His voice could barely be heard, he was pleading you. His eyes were searching for yours, but you were trying to take a step back from Baekhyun. In a little over a week, he had made you obsessed with him. You wanted to know everything about him. You wanted to know his most deeply hidden secrets, but he just couldn’t give you what you wanted. He would always leave a part of himself invisible, that’s the kind of man Baekhyun was. You wanted a pure love without complications, but Baekhyun screamed troubles from miles away. Maybe it was best to end it before it could actually start becoming troublesome.

“That doesn’t matter.” You mumbled softly.

“It does! Do you like me Y/N?” He raised his voice while his hands landed on your shoulders. He was trying to make you look at him, but you refused.

“Why?” His hands found their way to your chin, and they demanded you to look up at him. You lost your internal battle the moment your eyes connected. His dark orbs, filled with passion, were enough to make you weak in the knees. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were pleading you to stay.

“Because I have liked you ever since the first moment I laid my eyes on you. Ever since the moment you spilt your drunken secrets, you had me captivated. You’re like a drug, Y/N, and I can’t seem to get enough. I can’t stand seeing you flirt with Chanyeol when it should be me. I told you that I’m selfish, I want you all to myself. I want to spend the rest of my life with you even, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you!” Baekhyun started. There was no stopping him now. He looked determined to make you stay.

“I ache when I see you smile. I want it to be directed toward me. For me. Because of me. I want to bring you joy. I want to be the source of those lit-up eyes.” His voice grew softer when he ended his confession.

“That’s nice Baekhyun, but last time I checked you were still happily married." Tears started to form in your eyes, and you couldn’t act like you were fine anymore. Baekhyun saw your tears and tried to move them away with his fingers, but it only resulted in you crying more. The soft side he had shown you that was solely dedicated to you, was too much for you to handle.

“Make me choose.” He whispered with his hands still covering your cheeks.

“I want you to decide for yourself. I don't want to ruin your marriage.”

“The marriage was already ruined before you came along.”

“Exactly. Why would you leave her now? You could’ve left earlier. The option was always there. Why now?” You asked him desperately while the tears kept falling down.

“It's not as easy as it seems.” He silently confessed. He had already thrown this words into your direction.

“You keep saying that. I will make the decision for you. Let's stop this game that we’re playing. Let’s just end whatever this is.” You told him while fighting through your tears. He let go of your face, and you saw it as a sign to leave. You quickly turned around and marched out of his office.

That’s why you were avoiding him. That’s why you wanted to hate him in your head. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, and you don’t know how he has gotten so comfortable in your head. And you hate the fact that he can mess up your mind so easily. To be honest, you’re afraid of love. You’re scared of feeling that someone keeps sticking to your heart, making you wonder at night if he had feelings for you too. Baekhyun had feelings for you, but he still broke your heart. You know that pain, where you give your heart and someone decides he doesn’t need it. Baekhyun needed it, and he wanted it, but it was just not possible. And if it’s possible, that’s even worse.

And here you are alone, heartbroken, depressed as fuck, and no way out. How could you not remember his shiny smile and his flawless beauty? How could you ever forget his teary eyes when he confessed his love for you? His little grey's anatomy moment where he wanted you to make him choose.

“Y/N!” Baekhyun yelled after you, but you quickened your pace. “Please wait.” He finally caught up with you, and grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Don’t.” You told him while tears were falling from your eyes. You had no control over your body in this moment.

“Don’t leave me. Not before we try to turn this into something.” A single tear left his eye, and you softly brushed his tear away with your thumb.

“What if nothing is there?” Your hand rested on his cheek, and he leaned into your touch. Some people were entering the office again as lunch time was almost over, but you didn’t care. All you cared for was Baekhyun in this moment.

“I would risk it because if you’d let me, I could make you happy.” He kissed the inside of your hand while his eyes remained on yours. The act was so innocent yet the fire inside you started to burn. You wanted more. You needed more of Baekhyun.

“I don’t care about your money, Baekhyun.” Your voice barely a whisper. You wanted your words to be heard by Baekhyun only.

“Let me buy you a drink tonight? Let me buy you dinner? Give me one date?” He started pleading again, but this time you couldn’t say no to him. 

“Where’s your wife?” You asked him.

“She only shows up when she needs money. She already left.” The explanation made no sense, but you didn’t care. She was gone, and that was all you need to know now.

“Okay.” You stated confidently. If your heart was meant to be broken, it was best to have it broken by Baekhyun. The only one who made you feel things. The only man who could turn your insides into mush, and make your cheeks permanently flushed.

“Okay?” He asked your surprised. He couldn’t believe your words, and you couldn’t really believe to yourself.

“I’m just as surprised as you are. Let’s try this once, and only one time.” You told him firmly.

“You won’t regret it.” He told you enthusiastically. 

“You better sweep me off my feet.” You joked with half a smile covering your face, but Baekhyun’s smile reached his ears. He quickly enveloped you in a hug where he lifted you off your feet. “Please put me down, Baekhyun. I didn’t really mean it that literally.” You laughed when he returned you safely on the ground, but he didn’t let go of you yet. His arms stayed draped around you while his eyes were searching for yours. 

“I like this.” He mumbled softly before kissing your cheek. He wanted to kiss your lips, but you quickly maneuvered your way out of his grip.

“No kissing until you confess to me like mister Darcy would confess.” You told him while taking his hand into yours. You motioned for him to follow you to the elevator. Maybe you should find a more discreet spot to confess.

“I already confessed to you like mister Darcy would do. He would be very proud.” He joked with you while his fingers were drawing small circles onto your hand, making your body instantly relax. All you needed was Baekhyun to make the biggest thunders in your heart go away. He told you that you were like a drug to him, but he was really your drug.

“You didn’t tell me that I bewitched you body and soul.” You pouted slightly, making him chuckle lowly. That wonderful sound you could listen to for days and days.

“I said you were like a drug, isn’t that the same sentiment?” He tried to reason with you, but by now he should’ve known better than to reason with you.

“I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules, mister Byun.” You laughed at him, and you could see the love in his eyes. Maybe love was a bit too strong, but you could see the fondness he had for you in his eyes. That was enough for now.

“What have I gotten myself into?” He jokingly asked the ceiling, and you quickly stomped him in the ribs. You could get used to this. You could get used to this side of Baekhyun. You didn’t know what the future would hold, but as you said before; it’s enough for now. And who knows what kind of secrets you could make with Baekhyun. You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t a little bit excited. 

#exowritersnet #exo fic #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fluff #byun baekhyun #baekhyun #exo fanfic #exo fan fiction #exo #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic

[tibbinswrites]

Hi! If the slots haven’t been filled yet could you do prompt #635, Destiel, something in cannonverse (so preferably not au or endverse) and angst with happy ending? Thank you! I love love love your writing, you are one of my favorite Destiel writers! You capture the characters so perfectly! I hope you have a nice day!

*grovelling, so much grovelling* I am so, so sorry that this took so long Anon, especially as you picked a prompt that I was hoping someone would pick for ages! When it came to actually WRITING for it though I drew a huge blank. I wrote 4000 words then scrapped them all, then I cycled through about three other possible ideas but none of them did this prompt justice, and THEN I got an email about my big project deadline that I had completely forgotten about so I had to sort that, and then I was in that horrible mood where I was hating everything I wrote so I had to take a break and THEN I came back with fresh eyes and this happened. Thank you so much for bearing with me. I hope it’s worth the wait! You are far too kind! I’m so happy you like how I write. I still have one prompt slot left. I have now done prompts for: #1, #2, #4 and #16, #9, #10, #20, #26, #33, #77, #78, #170 (part 1), (part 2), (part 3), #327, #502 and #635 Anyway, ON WITH THE FIC!  635. “I can’t be mad because I let you slip away…”

Things had been kind of weird since Jack got his soul back. There were more tears than Dean was comfortable dealing with and more apologies than he knew how to forgive. There was only so much he could push aside for the kid’s benefit after all, and only so many times he could hear his mother’s name emerge from the mouth of her killer.

He hadn’t yelled yet though. He’d been trying so damn hard to keep his temper in check ever since Purgatory had him sobbing on his knees. The realisation of what his anger had almost cost him—more than once on reflection—had been burned into his very lungs. It had been a pretty big wake up call to say the least. So he hadn’t yelled at the kid. It wasn’t Jack’s fault. That was his new mantra and he replayed it every time he saw Jack start to tear up, every time he tried to (not so subtly) get Dean alone, as though it was the presence of Sam and Cas that was bothering him and not the fact that he couldn’t forget the weight of his mother’s body in his arms, or the all too familiar stench of her pyre as she burned for the second time. Dean had so far managed to dodge him, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before one of the others intervened on Jack’s behalf.

It had been a couple weeks now and Sam was starting to give him pointed looks whenever he made his feeble excuses about needing to make a grocery run or how he’d love to stay and talk but there was a special sci-fi movie marathon at the local movie theatre that he’d been wanting to go to, or how the washing machine had been acting up and he’d really need to concentrate while fixing it. Those looks were slowly inching from understanding towards judgemental, but he just wasn’t ready yet. He couldn’t look Jack in the eye and tell him honestly that he forgave him for killing Mary, because he didn’t. He might not exactly blame the kid anymore, but that didn’t mean Mary was forgotten.

It didn’t matter that Jack needed to hear the words from Dean’s mouth, this was something he couldn’t compromise himself on.

He hated that everyone else seemed to have a timeline for how long he was allowed to grieve, now that he had the time to grieve. It was different for Sam. It felt petty and resentful to think it but it was. Sam hadn’t missed Mary the first time, not really. You can’t miss what you never had after all and while Sam had definitely felt the absence of Mary growing up, in the spaces that Dean had been unable to fill, and he had peppered Dean with questions about her more than once, they had been more curious than sad. He hadn’t lost her the same way Dean had, nor did he remember the fire like Dean did, nor did he truly understand how different John had been before Mary died.

He wasn’t sure why that made a difference but it did. And sure, Mary had never been the idol he’d imagined her to be as a kid, but now he was struggling so hard not to put her back on that pedestal. He’d sorted through so much of his childish crap. Having Mary alive and well and fiercely stubborn had helped him to do that. Her unwillingness to compromise her independence and love of hunting in order to fulfil Dean’s fantasies of having someone tuck him in at night and tell him that it was all gonna be okay had helped Dean grow up in the way that he should have grown up the first time; not forced into it at four years old, confused and scared, the only thought in his head watch out for Sammy, but in the healthy way that Sam already somehow managed, true maturity instead of faking it because he had to.

Not just a mom, were the words he remembered most clearly.

But now he’d lost her again, and with her any chance of showing her how far he’d come. A foolish, selfish notion perhaps, but one that he’d been nursing in his chest for a very long time: the desire to prove his father wrong, to prove to himself that he wasn’t broken beyond repair, to prove to Mary that it had been her, not John, who had been the one to lay the foundation for the person he wanted to be. The person he could choose to be.

Without her he was struggling to remember why he should bother. Doing things for his own gain felt stupid and narcissistic, another lesson that John had imprinted in him. If somebody else didn’t need it from him then what was the point? Not that Mary had needed to see Dean figure out how to become a person but when she was alive at least he could lie to himself.

He’d retreated since Jack got his soul back. From everyone. Sam had been giving him space, Jack he actively avoided, and whatever progress he’d made with Cas had backslid into tiptoeing on eggshells around the guy, not wanting to hear how much he hated Dean for not showing his son the courtesy of accepting an apology, and definitely not wanting to risk a fight that led to him taking off again. He didn’t know how to fix any of it. How could he make himself forgive Jack? How could he make himself come to terms with everything he’d lost that his mother had represented to him? How could he stop missing Mary herself? The empty hole inside, imperfectly shaped, moulded around the two different Mary’s that he’d known just seemed to grow more ragged at the edges.

He was out in the woods, of course, at the spot Mary’s body had reappeared. This was where he came now when the air felt too stifling inside. It was like a grave, he supposed, a place to come and think about what a person meant to you. He’d never really had that before. He’d only been to Mary’s grave in Lawrence twice, on the day she was put in it and the day, twelve years later, that he’d had to go back. They’d moved around too much when he was young and though Bobby had offered to take him more than once when John had dumped them at his place, Dean had always refused, knowing his dad wouldn’t like it and not really seeing the point anyway.

He understood the point now. Even without a marker he still felt her here. Which he knew was dumb, because she was in Heaven with a husband who’d never really existed and two children who she’d never got to see grow up and hopefully, hopefully the two adult sons who’d grown up without her, the ones she could be proud of.

He sniffed. He always cried when he came here, he’d stopped trying to fight it. He didn’t talk to Mary, of course. She couldn’t hear him and he didn’t have anything worth saying anyway. He just came here to try and untangle the mess of thoughts in his head, maybe so he could figure out what to do next, how to fix everything without undoing whatever progress he’d made for himself.

“Dean?”

He froze, the age-old tactic of ‘if I don’t respond it’ll go away’. It didn’t of course. And to make matters worse, it wasn’t an it, it was Cas.

“What are you doing out here?”

Dean shrugged, casual. “Just needed some air.” He didn’t turn, but he heard the sound of recognition Cas made when he realised the significance of this particular spot.

“Avoiding Jack?”

Dean turned to automatically deny it but Cas’ face was calm and without judgement. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I know he’s coming on strong,” he continued. “I’ve tried to get him to dial it back a little but he really wants to talk to you.”

“I can’t do it, Cas.” Dean said, looking back to the place his mother’s body had materialised, his voice little more than a scrape. “I can’t look him in the eye and tell him that that I’m over it. I’m not. I might not ever be.”

There was a click in Cas’ throat as he swallowed. Then, “Your forgiveness is only part of it,” he said slowly. “Albeit a major part, but he understands, Dean. He understands that what he did can’t be written off, he just wants to hear it from you. If you explain it to him, tell him that you just need time and you’ll go to him when you’re ready, he won’t keep apologising. He’s just trying to get a reaction, I think, though sometimes even I want to snap at him.”

Dean chewed that over for a moment. Cas made it sound so simple. Maybe it wasn’t so black and white as either lying to the kid or yelling that he’ll never forgive him—the only two options that Dean had been able to come up with so far—of course, it meant talking, which Dean was notoriously bad at, but the way Cas broke it down, it didn’t sound so hard. Jack was a smart kid for a three-year-old after all, and he could definitely understand ‘I don’t hate you but I need time’, which was basically what his feelings boiled down to. He didn’t have to explain everything. Hell, he’d never even tell Sam everything but Jack deserved at least the basics, what with the way he’d been freezing the kid out lately.

“What’s the other part?” he asked suddenly, remembering the first thing Cas had said, he twisted his neck around to see Cas frowning at him, his head tilted adorably to one side (yeah, he thought it, so what?).

“Isn’t it obvious? He misses you.”

Dean just blinked stupidly. “Huh?”

Cas huffed and walked forward to stand at his side. Somehow he knew not to walk in front of him and obscure his view of the clearing, but instead stayed a solid presence next to him. Cas was good like that, Dean thought, he just knew things so they didn’t have to be said; he understood in the quiet kind of way that meant more to him than he could ever express, but he was pretty sure Cas knew that too. Still, sometimes he toyed with the idea of saying it aloud.

“He misses spending time with you,” Cas clarified. “You took him fishing once, let him drive your car, taught him how to fire a gun and got him hooked on those horror films you like. He loves you, Dean, and he hates that he hurt you.”

Dean looked down then, and he dug the toe of his boot into the soft dirt. “Oh.”

A comforting weight landed on his shoulder and he didn’t need to look up at the sudden touch. Somehow, Cas had become a safe person even to his subconscious. He didn’t know when that had happened, honestly he tried not to look too closely at it, but he’d arrived at a place now where he could admit to himself, however briefly, that he really, really liked that it had.

“You’re his father too, Dean. Just as much as and me and Sam. You know that, right?

Dean shrugged the shoulder Cas wasn’t touching, not wanting him to remove his hand. “I was thinking of myself more like the fun uncle,” he said, trying to keep his tone light through the ball in his throat.

“No you weren’t.” Cas said, soft but firm, not letting Dean joke his way out of this. Which, actually, he was okay with. Cas always knew how far he could push, how far Dean needed to be pushed. Even when Sam couldn’t get the balance right, Cas always could. Still, he wouldn’t be Dean if he didn’t try.

“Prove it,” he said, flashing a grin at the angel, who merely rolled his eyes and let his hand drop. Suddenly, he was the one toeing at the grass, a hint of pink on his cheeks.

“I’ve missed you too,” he said. “For what it’s worth.”

“I’m right here.” Dean said, and then it was too late to take it back, because this wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. He was supposed to make another joke, a playful jab, not admiring the way the freckles of sunlight through the trees highlighted the chestnut in Cas’ hair, nor heeding the gentle warmth in his belly that only happened around Cas, nor stepping forward to place his own hand on Cas’ shoulder because he needed the contact, he needed to be grounded in these last few moments before he fucked everything up, again, and that pleasant warm feeling was beginning to twist into panic.

But then Cas met his eyes and he breathed again, even though the look in them was melancholy.

“You haven’t been,” he said. “You’ve been avoiding me as well. Or, not avoiding but you’ve been different. I wonder if perhaps you’re unable to forgive me either, but too kind to say so.”

Dean almost snorted. He was a lot of things, some of them even good, but kind wasn’t even in the top fifty. Cas gave him a look that said he knew what he was thinking and not to respond to it, so instead he pushed through his instinct and went with pure honesty.

“I can’t forgive you because I never blamed you, Cas, not really. I was just lashing out because… I dunno, because I expect more from you than I should, I guess. And it’s not fair, I know that, I just… I’m used to you fixing things, and I don’t know what to do when you can’t. And you left because I was being a dick and I can’t blame you for that. I can’t be mad because I let you slip away.”

Cas’ expression shifted then, and it was only that moment that Dean realised they were standing so close. One of Dean’s hands gripped at the arm of that damned coat and Cas was so close that he could probably—fuck—he could probably see the small tracks his tears had made. Dean was so close that he could make out the hope in Cas’ eyes, and for the first time, he wasn’t scared shitless at the sight of it. Or at least, he wasn’t so terrified that he could let Cas slip away again.

“I’m right here,” Cas echoed.

“We could be something.” Dean said, his voice a very unattractive croak, well aware that talking about this shit was so far from his wheelhouse it had a different zip code. His breath hit a few errant hairs on Cas’ forehead and they flinched in rhythm to the slight bump at the crest of each inhale where their chests nudged together. “If, you know, if you wan—”

Cas was already kissing him.

#prompt #prompts #angst with a happy ending #season 15 spoilers #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #language #supernatural #spn fanfic #fanfiction #writing #TibbinsWrites

[spectralscathath]

Flip a Coin or Two

Fair Game Week, Day 1: Semblances/Flirting

A walk in the park, a couple of hot beverages, and a cold night. What could go wrong?

If you're Qrow Branwen, the answer is 'everything your semblance can get its grubby gremlin hands on'.

Ao3 link

It was just a walk in the park. Well, actually, it had first been Qrow wandering the halls of Atlas Academy with a healthy dose of mild insomnia and an urge to move, to travel, to explore. He was a rover at heart, never was able to stay in one place forever without suitable chaos or company to keep him entertained, usually both at once.

So he’d left, not even Atlas’s heating system able to fully take away the bite of the nightly chill. He didn’t mind. It was bracing. He’d walked down the entrance of Atlas Academy, considering turning into a bird just to stretch his wings, when a friendly holler had caught his attention.

Clover had been awake, fuck knows why, and had apparently noticed Qrow’s general lurking. An invitation to grab a hot drink had turned into a nightly stroll around one of Atlas’s many parks, and the largest one had the heating lowered enough for actual snow to fall, creating a permanent winter wonderland.

It was nice, to watch ribbons of colours dance across the night sky like oil paints, the shattered moon hanging above. Trees and lanterns lined some of the pathways, and if Qrow looked beyond them he could see the outline of some kid’s snowman.

He also saw small things moving in the darkness, which he found way more interesting, especially when one white shape darted across the path in front of him and he realised it was one of the snow rabbits that filled this park in droves. It was cute (reminded him of Summer, with her white cloak and shy eyes), a welcome distraction to try spot them as he and Clover chatted about random topics, the conversation flowing in the way only conversations do and never faltering.

It was right when Clover was righteously trying to convince him of some sort of strange, obviously deeply personal argument involving sugar and tea (Clover fell on the side of ‘would rather eat his own hands then have sugar in tea’ and was very emphatic about it), that it happened.

And by ‘it’, Qrow meant his usual stupid luck.

Qrow felt a shiver go down his spine, like cold fingers tracing each vertebrae, Lady Luck’s hand gently raking her nails over his nape, and he did a quick step back on sheer reflex. Good for him, he managed to dodge the sudden weight of snow that had fallen from one of the trees he and Clover had been walking under, the packed powder too heavy to stay on the branch.

Unfortunately for Clover, the Ace Ops captain was now sporting a very fetching cap of snow across his head and shoulders, and on top of the lid of his (incredibly stupid, shamrock-printed, green) travel mug.

Qrow winced and sipped his own coffee, one hand sequestered safely in his pocket while the other curled tight around the warm beverage. “… Whoops.”

Clover looked over his shoulder, teal eyes almost comically wide as he seemed to be processing what happened, before they twinkled in amusement and he shook himself in an almost-canid motion, the snow in his hair splattering everywhere around him.

Qrow squawked a curse as he moved to shield his mug, the snow hitting his arm instead. “You son of a- what was that for?”

“Apologising,” Clover grinned, his hair an absolute mess that still had melting snowflakes clinging to the brown tufts. “It’s not your fault.”

“It was my semblance.” He knew it for a fact.

That got him a quirked brow. “I thought you said you couldn’t control it.”

“I can’t,” he shrugged, already feeling defensive. “I just-” how to explain. He didn’t remember explaining this to anyone. Raven, Tai, and Summer had been there on this little journey of discovery.

He muttered a few random swears under his breath as he tried to pick the best words, stealing a glance at Clover. Clover was just standing there, with his stupidly open smile, a friendly glitter in eyes like a shallow sea in sunlight, and endless patience to match Qrow’s reticence.

So he took a breath and decided to just say it. After all, if anyone on Remnant could understand, it was this dork of a soldier. “My semblance is passive. But it’s more like… random spikes of misfortune. I can sorta control the frequency, and intensity, but I can’t stop it completely.”

“So… that was one of those uncontrolled ones?”

“They’re all uncontrolled. But if I’m in a fight, I can-” don’t make it sound dumb- “turn the knob, make them more likely. Skew the probability that my semblance will spike and something will happen. But it doesn’t discriminate between me, my allies, and my enemies.” That was the worst thing about it. The liability it made him. He didn’t even go into hospitals, most of the time, because all it would take was his semblance hexing one machine and someone could very well die.

Clover nodded to himself, taking it in and chewing it over, being just as careful with his words as Qrow was. While he thought, he unscrewed the lid of his travel mug and upturned it, spilling the most-likely-spoiled tea out as he flicked snow off the lid.

“So if that was random, how did you jump back so fast?”

Qrow scratched the back of his neck, where the skin still prickled a little bit. “You ever get the feeling that someone walked over your grave? Like the hairs on the back of your neck stand up?”

“Once or twice. I’m sure everyone has.” Clover studiously examined his travel mug before he screwed it all back together and clipped it, with the fucking side attachment, to his belt. Right next to the honest-to-gods rabbit foot. Weirdo. Weird, weird weirdo.

“Most of the time, unless it’s something really small,” a tire popping, a table leg breaking, a window cracking, a log falling out of a fire, “I feel that right before a spike. Split-second warning, I guess.”

“Makes sense,” Clover nodded and fell back into step beside him, hands folded lightly behind his back.

Qrow slouched a bit, taking a swig of his coffee (black, no sugars, double shot) in a familiar motion but without the familiar burn of alcohol down his throat. “Heh. I guess.”

They walked through the park in silence for a minute, a cold breeze whipping a flurry around their ankles and making Qrow’s tattered cape flutter behind him. He glanced at Clover out of the corner of his eye. “Your turn, Shamrock.”

Clover gave him another one of those quirked brows. “My turn?”

“Well, I talked about how my semblance works. Tit for tat, right?” He swirled the coffee in his mug to check how much he had. “I’ll get you a new tea.”

“Well, how could I refuse?” He grinned at him. “Alright. Mine’s random too. It’s usually small things, like Elm happening to have just finished baking something if I drop by, or the television plays the funnier commercials during ad breaks. My favourite chair in the rec room is free, or I find some Lien on the ground when I walk to work.”

“I’m not even jealous at this point,” Qrow chuckled, even if he was a small bit. Sometimes it hurt a little bit, because he was a petty, cranky grump and his heart wasn’t exactly gilt and gold. But Clover’s semblance was just… luck of the draw. They both got it, opposite sides of the coin.

Clover smiled a little awkwardly, a concerned tilt to his brows. “Not my intention. But I can amplify it, somewhat. Same principle as when you flip a coin and hope it’ll land on heads, only it almost always does for me. And before you ask, no. I don’t affect anyone else like you do. My semblance only works for me.”

Qrow noticed what looked almost like guilt sweep across those green eyes for a moment, before it disappeared back under Clover’s armour. “Yours ever tire you out?”

“Only when it does something really crazy,” Clover chuckled. “That’s the only time I can actually tell it was me. For most of the small to intermediate stuff, the only way I know it’s activated is when something fortunate happens.”

Qrow pulled his hand out of his pocket to hide a smile. “Hang on, are you telling me that my unlucky arse has more control over my semblance then you?”

“Would we call a warning system ‘controlled’?” Clover teased, light and airy, unlike the jabs that Qrow usually got from anyone willing to ever mention it.

“You’re just mad cause I got one.” Qrow thumbed at his chest with a cocky smirk.

Clover laughed, deep and real and warm, his head tossed back and his bird’s nest hair outlined by lantern light, and Qrow felt a squishy feeling in his chest that was probably a bad sign.

“Sure, I’d like to be able to know in advance if my semblance is about to drop a meteor on a grimm next time, I nearly passed out from how quick my aura dropped.” Those green eyes locked onto Qrow’s red with a fey-like sparkle and Qrow smirked in challenge.

“A meteor?”

“Well,” Clover grinned sheepishly. “Technically falling debris. But a meteor sounds more impressive.”

Qrow barked a short laugh of his own, the fingers of his free hand brushing daringly against Clover’s for a moment as they walked. “More egotistical, I’d say.”

“A little bit of exaggeration makes a story more interesting, there’s no ego involved.” Clover defended, traces of laughter lingering in his voice.

Qrow snorted. “Keep telling yourself that, Shamrock, maybe one day I’ll believe it.”

Clover’s smile softened. “Maybe one day. I like that.”

The tips of Qrow’s ears warmed slightly and he felt a prickle on the back of his neck, semblance spiking in tandem with his skipping pulse as he tripped over himself. Clover’s hands fastened on his arm immediately, keeping Qrow from faceplanting into the trodden-down snow.

His half-empty mug took the fall instead.

Both men stared at the remnants of the coffee as it leaked sluggishly out into the snow, Clover’s hands warm on Qrow’s bicep. He hadn’t let go and Qrow was in no mood to tell him to.

“… So, more coffee?”

“Ew, no, you owe me tea.”

--

Well now, this is a fluffy, heartwarming surprise compared to my usual fare. Stay tuned, folks, I’m hoping to get some good stuff out for this week. 

Until tomorrow, luvs. 

#Fair Game #fairgameweek2020 #Clover Ebi #Qrow Branwen #rwby #my writings #this one goes out to my fair game friends