#i never knew there was supposed to be emotional relief when crying sometimes because whenever i cry when im overwhelmed...or anytime really

[jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav]

Can u make mc is the actual owner of Cerberus when he was a pup but villagers killed him because they thought that he was a monster and what how would the brothers and the undateable react to that when mc started to cry when she saw Cerberus headcanons

Oh Beans! I totally spaced when reading this and only have the brothers.

I'll post what I have here right now, but this will also be on AO3, so if you keep checking/subscribe there, you'll get a notification when I've added the undateables! It might not be for a while though, since I'm about to start school again ^-^;;

Who's a Good Boy?

The Guard Dog of the House of Hades. A vicious, three-headed hellhound that only the fallen Morningstar himself could command. Unfathomably massive. Devourer of demons, angels, and humans alike. Notoriously difficult to groom.

That is Cerberus, Lucifer’s extremely volatile pet named after a figure from Greek mythology for reasons no one truly understands. The creature has struck fear into the hearts of its housemates, and the Devildom at large, for what feels like ages.

So when MC cries upon seeing the wolf-dog for the first time, none of the brothers are especially surprised. How could a human cross such a monster’s path and live, after all?

Except those who weep in fear usually don’t then barrel full-tilt into one of the monster’s furry legs, babbling incoherently about how they thought they’d never see him again.

One of Cerberus’ heads leans down to the human, and the brothers panic, fearing the worst. It opens its mouth, revealing razor sharp fangs—

And licks MC’s entire body in a saliva-filled canine kiss. Now covered in tears and drool, MC laughs as they shake themself off, teasing the hellhound by saying that they already showered today, thank you very much.

“So, did you miss me as much as I missed you?” they ask, giving Cerberus’ central head some under the chin scritches (the only part of its head they can currently reach).

Cerberus boofs loudly, enormous tail waving back and forth at an increasingly hazardous pace.

Lucifer

What.

Lucifer is dealing with a Lot right now. He almost lost the exchange student to his own dog, except apparently Cerberus used to belong to MC?! How?!

He orders Cerberus to back away from the human, part of him still convinced that this is somehow a combination of MC being mistaken and Cerberus playing with its food, but the hellhound actually growls at him and picks MC up by the back of their shirt, tossing them onto its back.

MC, in response, finds new places to scritch.

He stares at the scene for a few minutes, unable to process what his life has become.

Later, once Cerberus finally agrees to let MC leave, they explain to him that Cerberus used to be a puppy in the human world.

Obviously, he was immediately noted as strange due to his three heads, and the people of MC’s village believed him to be an omen of death. MC themself didn’t care, and just saw “lil’ Cerb” as a puppy like any other, albeit an exceptionally drooly one.

He used to be more or less normal dog-sized, but it quickly became obvious that Cerberus was growing fast, and would be much larger than even a wolf by the time he was done. He also became harder and harder to hide.

Unfortunately, one night they awoke to poor Cerberus being chased out into the night by a mob, never to return.

They assumed the worst, mourned, and got on with their life as best as they could. But seeing Cerberus— they knew it was the same dog as soon as they saw him — brought all those emotions right back to the surface.

It’s not hard to adapt to these strange circumstances. Lucifer is actually quite relieved to have someone who is both willing and able to safely help him in caring for Cerberus, and both MC and the hellhound delight in each other’s company.

Lucifer also won’t deny the pride he feels upon seeing MC, the one he loves, getting along so well with his son dog.

Mammon

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

The P A N I C of seeing MC within bite-chomp-murder-kill distance of Cerberus nearly killed Mammon.

What the hell is he supposed to do against that furball?! MC’s dead meat, a chew toy, he can’t save them again—

WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY D O I N G ? !

Torn between passing out from fear and yelling about how brave and cool HIS human is!

So he kinda just… stands there, slack-jawed, as MC finds a spot on the creature that makes it thump its leg so hard the ground shakes.

Already he’s cooking up ways to use MC’s Cerberus-taming powers to get into all kinds of Shenanigans

Except he quickly learns that while Cerb is much more gentle with MC, it won’t let them distract it from its duties.

Has this resulted in MC semi-unwillingly riding Cerberus as it chases a terrified Mammon throughout the Devildom? Possibly~

Though when MC explains to Mammon how Cerberus used to be their dog, and what had happened to him… He can’t help but feel a touch more sympathetic to the hellhound.

Only a little bit though. It still does try and tear him apart whenever he gets too close, after all.

Leviathan

Levi’s fear metamorphoses into awe much faster than the others’. MC LOOKS SO COOL!! Riding the mighty Cerberus like a steed!

He desperately wishes he had the art skills to capture this iconic moment forever. But alas, a camera will have to do.

It’s a pretty good picture, the comparatively small human sitting on Cerberus’ back like something straight out of a fantasy novel. Levi even has a shot of them accidentally scritching a spot that makes Cerberus breathe fire (like a furry dragon!)

100% gets super emotional when MC tells him how they originally had— and lost— Cerberus as a puppy. It reminds him of his precious Henry 1.0 in some ways…

Begs MC to let him post the photos he took, along with their story as the caption. It’s just too good! It’s exactly like that arc in My Adventurer Boyfriend Keeps Adopting the Monsters He Beats in Combat and Now We’re Running Out of Space to Keep Them!

Like Mammon, Levi also quickly learns that just because he unlocked Cerberus’ tragic backstory, doesn’t mean that the hellhound will treat him any differently.

But sometimes, after a long “walk” with MC, the massive creature will be mostly asleep. And then, his hand shaking, MC will guide Levi to pet Cerberus’ flank. Its tail swishes softly, Levi’s own swaying in response.

Satan

He shakes his head and laughs, torn between relief, awe, shock, and lingering horror for MC’s safety. Of course they can tame even the ferocious Cerberus…

Guess all sorts of angry monsters like MC, huh?

He definitely wants to hear the story of MC owning Cerberus in the past, but first he’s going to drink in the absolutely dumbfounded expression on Lucifer’s face.

Toooootally doesn’t cry upon hearing MC’s story with Cerberus. No way, he’s still a cat person, he swears!

...No one is allowed to comment on Satan’s various burn injuries that occur over the next few weeks.

Not if they don’t want to be left with worse.

Asmodeus

OH SHIT!! Also, ewwwww

Once the fear for MC’s safety subsides, Asmo can appreciate the cuteness and hilarity that is MC with Cerberus. Truly no one is immune to their charms it seems, and their affections know no bounds.

...Is it that same quality that allows MC to continue to care for him and his brothers despite their past actions?

Asmo claims that the smoke from Cerberus’ fire breath is getting into his eyes, prompting him to leave. He has a good long stare-at-a-wall crisis for a bit.

Learning MC and Cerberus’ story only makes him mushier. Their tragedy got a happy ending after all!

As much as he loves MC’s charms, he still insists that they de-drool themself before touching him or any of his things. It stinks like brimstone!

Now if they need any help getting clean… That he can oblige~

Beelzebub

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH part 2

As one of the physically stronger brothers, when Lucifer’s not available it’s Beel’s job to groom Cerberus. He knows how dangerous that mutt is.

But apparently not for MC “Knows No Fear” over there!

As Cerberus continues to remain docile in MC’s presence, Beel starts to appreciate the cuteness of a human and their giant hellhound.

Unabashedly mushy upon hearing MC’s story about Cerberus. The themes of losing a loved one, only to find them much later in a new form… it kinda hits a little close to home for him.

(It’s not a perfect analogy: Beel knows MC isn’t Lilith, but having them as part of her legacy is undeniably cathartic. It’s why he doesn’t share these exact feelings with them, since he knows they’re uncomfortable with being compared to her excessively. Still, he can’t help but note the comparison.)

Naturally, he’s also very happy to have a very useful partner for grooming Cerberus. That living nightmare turns into an overgrown puppy whenever MC’s around. It’s much easier, and much safer, to work with this way.

Plus, it means he gets some quality time with MC! And there’s nothing quite like the fond smiles they share with him during these moments.

Belphegor

He has got to be dreaming. No way is this actually happening— nope, Mammon just stepped on his foot, and that hurt, he’s awake.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

Does MC not fear death? Is that it? Did that part of their brain just completely shut down when he killed them?!

Unlike the others, he can’t really shut down his panic. Sure, right now Cerberus is acting all cuddly, but that could change on a dime. That dog only listens to Lucifer, and right now all Lucifer is doing is staring gormlessly at it!!!

He nearly loses his hand trying to pull MC away from the creature (which it naturally did Not appreciate).

“Belphie, wait! It’s okay,” MC reassures him even as smoke blows out of Cerberus’ nostrils.

They explain their history with the hellhound, how they rescued it as a puppy and then lost it to the angry and frightened people of their village.

Belphegor can’t help but recall their expression when he told them about his imprisonment, the outrage there mingling with a much older emotion. Is that why they were so quick to help him?

He’s still wary of Cerberus. He refuses to be fooled by any facades the creature may be putting up.

But one day, MC invites him to one of their “playdates”. Cerberus watches him like a hawk, growling when he first approaches, but MC just shushes and soothes the monster until it allows him closer.

And maybe, after a few tense minutes, the pair begin to relax around each other.

And maybe, Lucifer has a picture of MC and Belphegor curled up in Cerberus’ fur as the three take a mid-afternoon nap.

And maybe, Belphegor lets him keep it.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me cerberus #obey me scenarios #mine #my writing #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #mc

[zuluc]

summary: how the genshin boys give kisses

characters: childe, diluc, kaeya, razor, venti, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli

style & genre: bulleted & written; fluff

warnings: a tiny bit suggestive in some of them

notes: i love them, that’s all

Childe

he likes to tell you that he wants a kiss, most of which is through simply staring at you until you turn your head his way

he’ll lean forward and press his lips against yours with a strength juxtaposed to that of what he uses for fights

in other words, he’s very gentle and kisses you with so much care you forget about his other 

his hands may start by holding your face but can wander down your torso to pull you closer

You exhale in exasperation when you hear the hilichurl war cry and summon your sword. After a bit, the last of them finally falls and you wipe the sweat off of your brow, throwing your weapon behind you to tuck it away. You place your hands on your hips and look around the area that Childe said he would be waiting for you at but he’s not yet here.

Your tired legs carry you to a large fallen branch, sitting down to feel the breeze to cool yourself down. You hear someone sit beside you and peek an eye open, seeing the man himself. He has a boyish grin on and you roll your eyes, accepting the kiss he gives you in greeting. 

Childe’s hands rest on your waist and they tighten when he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer. You sigh into the affection but remember what had to be doing. You pull away and raise an eyebrow, asking him what he is up to as you both were supposed here for one of your commissions nearby. He only winks in response.

“Let me have some time with you first.”

Diluc

he rarely initiates kisses and whenever he does it is always with fevor

it’s not like he doesn’t want to kiss you, he does at every waking moment, but he prefers to keep that between the two of you and away from prying eyes

his hands come to hold your head so you can’t pull away, not that you wanted to anyways

your face will flush from the warmth his kisses give you as well as that radiating off of his roaming hands

The day has been as busy as all the others and he’s looking forward to seeing you for a midday visit. You made it a habit to pop in during afternoons to make sure he isn’t overworking himself by taking a short break. Breaks usually consist of small chat about your day or him complaining about the workload seeming to increase each passing second. Others include him resting his head on you and closing his eyes, stress slipping away while you run your hands through his hair.

There are some breaks, however, that are a bit different.

Your clothes are wrinkled, dress shirt slipping off your shoulders as Diluc’s deft fingers unbutton it. Your soft sighs are released into the room when his lips move to nip at your neck, soothing the red areas with soft, warm kisses. Your hands move from his shoulders to stop him and he’s amused at the weak pushes. The words that leave your mouth complain about how disheveled you would look when you return to work. He chuckles, leaning up to kiss you fully and leaving no room for protesting.

“You may have to stay a bit longer.”

Kaeya

surprise kisses are his specialty

they’re fleeting and they leave you flustered whenever he takes your chin between two fingers and turns your head, giving you a quick kiss

has absolutely no shame in kissing you anywhere but respects your wishes if you aren’t comfortable with it

absolutely loves it when you initiate kisses yourself and will tease you about how you can’t get enough of them

His arm is slung around your shoulders as you both are conversing with Amber about the new camps around Mondstadt. You nod at her words and accept to take a few of them in one area. But notice that Kaeya has been unusually quiet.

Amber leaves the two of you and Kaeya turns you around to hug you against him. He shares with you that he needs to finish off another one of his mystery missions which would be very far from your own. He loves being near you to see your face and make sure you’re out of danger so this mission has gotten him quite peeved.

A laugh escapes you with a look of endearment directed at him as you move to peck his lips. You feel him tense since you know he never expects you to do things like this so suddenly as you were out in public after all. His frown morphs into a small smirk at your action and you look away, trying your best to leave his strong hold. 

“You’re so cute, darling.”

Razor

he gets flustered easily since you’re the one giving him kisses most of the time that his heart skips a beat

he’s still not used to the fact that he is doing this with someone, who he loves dearly

his lips are a bit chapped and it’s relief when he feels your much softer ones against his own

he may be inexperienced, but he’s trying his best and you reassure him that you love kissing him

He’s frozen in place when you pull away from pressing a kiss to his cheek. You look in concern until he takes your gaze as apprehension to his reaction. He quickly takes your hands in his and looks down at his feet as he tries to formulate words in his head to tell you how he really feels.

Your gaze softens, knowing that it was a stretch to kiss him so suddenly, but you wanted to show your affection in this way. You would catch his not-so secret glances at your lips from time to time and you knew he would be a bit too shy and awkward to act on his own.

Razor’s hands tighten and untighten around your own and you see that he is still in his own head. When you decide to speak, he looks up and leans forward, placing a light kiss on your lips before pulling back and looking at you questioningly.

“How was that?”

Venti

he’s very playful with his kisses and will lean in for one, making you think you’ll receive it, and then pull away when you are mere centimeters apart

when you pout at his teasing he’ll just laugh before indulging you in what you both want

prefers giving you short kisses multiple times a day and will occasionally take the time to hold you in his arms to enjoy the moment

he’s always on the move so times like these are important to him

Your calls of his name don’t go unnoticed when he tugs you along outside of Mondstadt. He had said that it was finally the perfect chance for some time with you right in the depths of night when everyone was asleep and the stars shined brightly in the sky. While you were slightly groggy from being woken up from a peaceful slumber, the carefree smile on his face pushed you through.

You both come to stand in front of the large tree in Windrise and Venti takes the both of you up to one of the branches with his anemo. Once settled, you sit beside each other, hands overlapping with fingers intertwined between the two of you. Some of the crystal butterflies manage to fly high enough to where you both are and you see them fluttering by your eyes against the starry sky. 

He calls your name and when you look his way, he’s already staring at you with a smile. You smile right back at him and lean forward, but his cheekiness gets the best of him and you’re met with pure air instead of him. A laugh bubbles from him but you take the opportunity to place your hand behind his head to guide a proper kiss.

“That seemed to be enough teasing for you.”

Xiao

he may seem as if he doesn’t like kisses but he absolutely melts when your lips meet his

kissing you is something he sees as very intimate and wants to keep behind closed doors at all times

during such, he likes you against him as close as possible, pouring out his emotions and leaving himself vulnerable to you

when he pulls away he’s simply content looking at you

He asks for permission, hand holding yours with the utmost of care. You grant it to him of course, for you couldn’t deny the adeptus something he would most likely never ask for again. His lips are surprisingly smooth and you find yourself gradually letting him take the lead to which he was not opposed to. This was the first time he kissed you.

Now, a bit later in your relationship, you’re both atop of the balcony standing by the railing. His amber eyes have intensity and sincerity in them as they look at you with one of his hands caressing your face. The other arm is wrapped behind your back, pressing you to him. In these moments he lets the silence tell you his thoughts, tell you his feelings for you with the wordless confessions he would never dare say out loud.

When he kisses you it starts off gentle, his lips moving against yours in a languid manner before picking up due to his impatience. This visit of yours was unplanned and wasn’t due for another week or so, but nevertheless the actions he would do then would be done now. The words to be said then, would be said now.

“I love you.”

Xingqiu

when he manages to sneak out of the house, his greetings always consist of presses a quick peck to your cheek, lips, or hand

sometimes he doesn’t even know he kisses you because it feel natural for him to do

likes to reenact scenes from the books he reads but is too embarrassed to tell you that they came from them

he can never deny you when you ask for one, thinking it chivalrous to listen to the requests of his lover

You are laying your head in his lap as you are both enjoying the nice weather underneath a large tree. This is supposed to be his “moment of solitude,” as he says, but he brings you along on his way. The wind blows and the leaves rustle above you, causing you to stick your arm up to shield your eyes from the sunlight peeking through them. 

Xingqiu clicks his tongue at the cliffhanger, closing his novel and placing it beside your head before moving to tap your nose. You scrunch it in response and ask him how he thought about the ending. He gives you a look of annoyance, presumably because of the actions of the main character.

You laugh lightly at his face and use your hand to poke his cheek. His face softens, taking your hand and leaning down to kiss you gently. 

“He should have done that when seeing his love.”

Zhongli

his kisses are very proper, most likely due to just the type of person he is, but he never gives you any that are rushed

he likes to take his time and gently cup your face with one hand while simultaneously leaning down

ever the romantic he always leaves you with parting words like those from a poem

if you decide to press further, he would happily let you, pushing back with the same intensity

He can see that you are upset when he meets you after you’ re done for the day. You have a crestfallen demeanor and your steps are slightly slower as you make your way to him. Immediately, he opens his arms and you happily accept the invitation, sighing in relief when your face his rests on him.

You proceed to tell him what had happened. Apparently, the commission you took on was to find a missing kid who had been gone for days. You were able to rescue her and the sight of her reuniting her with siblings made you think of your own. Were they safe? Where could they possibly be? Will I see them again?

The questions never became words that he could hear but he knew what you were thinking. Zhongli lifts your head to face him directly, kissing your forehead, cheeks, tip of the nose, and finally your lips. He does so with full, soft kisses, promising you that he would do anything to help you find them. Anything that would make you happy. With one last look at you he sees that you’re smiling. 

“I would be delighted to have your smile etched in my memory for all of time.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcannons #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin impact childe #genshin impact childe x reader #childe #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc #kaeya alberich #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya #razor x reader #genshin impact razor #genshin impact razor x reader #razor #venti x reader #genshin impact venti #genshin impact venti x reader #venti #xiao

[amortentiaparker]

please write something based on my tears ricochet by taylor swift 🙏🙏 best song on the album i swear-

a/n: thank you so much for your request! in honor of folklore's 1 year anniversary i present you my very first pure angst fic. i hope i did the song justice

warnings: some swear words, angst

word count: 1.8k

masterlist

Peter was distant. You couldn't blame him, not after everything.

On days when he had the energy, he'll tell you bits and pieces of what had happened in the battle that restored the lives of those who turned to dust. Your life.

Apparently, it was five years ago. For you, it felt like minutes. The last thing you remember was that it was supposed to be a trip full of love and laughter. Hands intertwined as you both stepped on the bus and sat next to each other. In your mind, the distant future looked like stolen kisses away in empty museum displays; not your boyfriend suiting up and heading into space. Fucking outer space.

You never once stopped Peter from doing his duties as a superhero. There were flickers of doubt whenever he arrived late or didn't reply to your messages after hours it was sent, but in the end, you knew that Peter's priority was to save people. But not the whole fucking universe. He's only a teenager, a kid compared to the thousand-year-old gods he teamed up with. Yet, the burden of everything was placed on his shoulders.

Hurt easily seeped into your bones whenever you hear him cry. May was trying so hard to be there for Peter but his sobs weakened her. Whenever she tried to lift up the mood, the sour expression on her nephew took control of the atmosphere.

You were dusted too, but eventually reunited with the people you love. Reunited with Peter. The relief, the breath of fresh air filling your lungs once realization struck you. You were back and safe. You had rejoiced with everybody else, and tears of joy filled your eyes as you saw Peter again with eyes equally as teary as yours.

It didn't matter who was watching, all you knew that your feet took flight and that you flung into Peter's arms. He was the anchor that kept you steady as the waves tried to sink you, the fire, the sunlight that lit your darkest days.

Tears steadily flowed down your cheeks and you felt the side of your neck dampen with Peter's tears. You were crying in happiness, but Peter's tears felt heavy. Burdened with guilt and pain.

You hated how you could never understand his grief. Peter mourned. It was always unexpected whether he'd lash out in front of your group of friends or in private, with his bedroom door shut not letting anyone in. Literally and figuratively. But you let him, you knew it was what he needed to release the pent up emotions within himself.

Some days, he was so immersed in his grieving thoughts, so drunk in the pain, that he sometimes started to point at you and say that you never should've let him get off the bus. Even if you did, you both knew it would be an action so minuscule compared to the catastrophic events that followed. You denying him from leaving wouldn't change a single thing, yet it left your heart heavy to know that there could've been a chance to save Peter from this hurt.  There's no use now in finding the outcomes of what ifs.

On days Peter wasn't cursing your name, he would mumble somebody else's under his breath; that the god of thunder or somebody called Doctor Strange should have done something, anything.

He'd plea in desperation. Plea that you leave him alone and when you didn't, Peter would go for aiming at your heart; saying things that he knew would hurt you. It hurt, but it's alright. You knew that this was the process of healing. You will stay because you love him and you would love him until the day you die.

You were walking home from school when you saw the red and blue in the sunset sky. A smile showed on your face and you felt pride flow through your blood. If you closed your eyes and really focused, you'd hear the familiar thwip; a sound that had frequented by your bedroom window. Nowadays though, it barely made an appearance.

Texting Peter that you would be leaving your bedroom window open was a rare occurrence— before. Back then, Peter didn't need a reminder because he knew you'll always be there to welcome him in. Nowadays– well truly you didn't know what the texts were for. Was it because you wanted Peter to know that you're still here? Or was it because you were still here but it felt like he isn't anymore?

You have come to terms that there will be days that you'll feel as if he was slipping through your fingertips. But you'd stand your ground and fight for him. You hear the words Peter would say through his scratchy voice. You are so brave. I don't deserve you.

Peter was well aware of how much his reaction to loss was affecting you. You two already knew each other when his Uncle Ben passed. You were friends then but Peter didn't show how much anguish he felt. He didn't want to feel like a burden, a person to be pitied, so he went on and put on a brave face. This had to be the tipping point though. Maybe the pent-up emotions finally reached the brim and exploded, you being the first thing to be destroyed in its wake.

You haven't felt what he feels every day, so you did your best to bring happiness for the two of you. The anger he felt was directed at himself, for letting the waves pull him to drown, for his weakness, and yet you were the one taking the blow.

You deserve better.

Peter knew that he needed to make the difficult decision. This spiral into sorrow was a journey he needed to brave on his own. You were too much of a kind soul and he did not want to bring you down with him.

Peter was swinging from building to building to clear his head. To gather whatever courage he has left from the battle against an army of aliens. The sun was setting when KAREN alerted him of your text message. The sound of your name caused Peter's concentration to falter and if his instincts as a superhuman weren't present, he would have fallen from a great height.

A quick stop at his apartment was the smart choice. He wouldn't face you wearing his suit. He felt as if it had some responsibility in the rift between you and him. As it lay in a heap on his bedroom floor, Peter didn't know what to feel as he looked at it. It brought him some of his best memories, yet it felt tainted now. Blood of his enemies, rubble from battle, and memories of those that have left him. He stashed the suit away and settled for a simple hoodie and pants ensemble. 

The bracelet that Peter never took off, because you made it for him, now felt like barbed wire around his wrist. It was digging into his skin as if it knew he wasn't worthy of wearing it. It was true. He wasn't worthy of anything. 

The irony of him breaking your heart while wearing what you gave him was almost laughable. 

Peter didn't come to your bedroom window last night. You weren't surprised but it still stung. Nothing can come close to the sting of his parting words though. 

Everything today seemed to be playing with irony. When Peter gently gripped your hand to pull you into the empty sunlit classroom, you thought it would be like the good days that you thought were already buried. Giggles between breathless kisses as the sunlight warmed your skin. You wanted to curse the sun for casting an ethereal orange glow on Peter while the words that left his lips were ice cold. 

The low rumble of thunder that started outside as Peter stepped out of the room was the cherry on top of everything. 

You persevered through the rest of your morning classes. A few stray tears escaped but in the end, you were relieved that no teacher had caught you and told you off. But lunch was a completely different thing. 

Your head was clouded with sad thoughts that you didn't notice your feet took you straight to the cafeteria. Only then you looked up when somebody had bumped into you. And directly in your line of sight was where Peter was sitting with MJ and Ned. 

He was smiling, probably telling Ned some Spider-man story considering his obscure hand movements. Smiling as if keeping the raw emotion he showed you earlier was easy to keep off his face at the moment. 

MJ saw you first. Her usual composed demeanor was overpowered by the shock on her face as she saw your bloodshot eyes. He didn't tell them?

He didn't tell the story of how killing you would have been the better option to save you from the pain of breaking everything off. How he easily crossed out the years you two have shared.

You'll always love Peter and you were always there to let him grieve. It was now time for you to let yourself do the same.

Exiting the school premises was something that might bite you back in the future, but it was too late now. For a moment you were disoriented, not knowing where to go. Because in every turn you took in the streets of New York, you saw a piece of your home. Peter. But you couldn't go to the familiar bench under the tree in Central Park, the local coffee shop where multiple dates took place, and especially his apartment where you had to pass by on the walk back to your place.

The sight of your bedroom window open nearly made you fall to your knees. It took you nearly half an hour before you decided to close it. For good.

You lay awake that night, whispering under your breath the words you wished you said to Peter. You couldn't curse his name; you loved him too much.

Little did you know that on the other side of the city, Peter felt another stack of guilt pressing down on him. He had to hurt you to make sure you'd be okay in the long run. But it killed him just the same. He had this ridiculous hope that you'd fight after he said he wants to end everything. But Peter was familiar on what fatigue from an ongoing battle looked like, and it was unmistakable in your eyes.

Both of you fell asleep under the same sky, wishing for the same thing— that the other should've stayed.

tag list (and lovely people who i hope would like!) : @thevery-firstpage @petersasteria @love-you-to-saturn @elios-timotea @givebuckyhisplumsnow @616films @starknik22 @moonykiss @decadentwastelandtrash @imawhoreforu

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker angst #mcu #mcu fic #tom holland fic

[atlabeth]

everything happens for a reason part 5 - zuko x fem!reader

I can go anywhere I want, I can go anywhere just not home

part 4 | masterlist | part 6

a/n: this was hard to get going but once i got to the end the words just flowed. ive come to the conclusion that writing dialogue with katara is my favorite thing to do

warning(s): nightmare at the beginning, survivor's guilt from y/n, some internalized homophobia :-( but aside from that its mostly fluff

wc: 3.6k

chapter title comes from my tears ricochet by taylor swift!

She was trapped.

It was a prison of never ending hallways in some kind of infinite void, complete with the rank stench of death and an innate feeling of hopelessness.

Y/N knew this place. It had been the subject of her nightmares on countless occasions, because it was where she was supposed to be. She had no choice but to start down the pathway of cracked stone — she knew what awaited her, but it was the only way out. She had developed some sick sense of awareness in this nightmare and it didn’t do her any favors.

She began to walk hastily down the path, the itch of paranoia already plaguing the back of her mind. Countless times she had been here, and yet it never got better.

Before Y/N knew it, she had reached her unwanted destination. The first tangible thing in what felt like miles was a prison cell, and she pushed forward despite knowing what awaited her. It was the only way.

“It wasn’t the only way.”

She froze, inhaling sharply as the dreamscape seemed to pull her thoughts out of her mind, and she forced herself to take another step closer, the inhabitant of the cell now visible.

“You did this to me.”

It was her mother, but… not quite her. Her voice strained and stiff, a gaunt appearance with cruel eyes, hunched over in a prison cell. Any sign of the woman Y/N knew her as was gone, and it was her fault. She was the reason Kura was gone — a mother’s ultimate sacrifice because her daughter was too stuck in her head.

“How could you do this to me?” she asked. “How could you be so selfish?”

Y/N tried to respond, but she couldn’t. It was no use anyway — her words would’ve come out in broken, pleading rambles to someone who couldn’t hear a thing. She knew it was fake, she knew this was a nightmare, but it still hurt all the same.

She had imagined her mother saying those words to her so many times they had found their way into her nightmares despite knowing that Kura would never utter a single syllable true to her fears. She had all but killed her mother, and instead of remembering her for what she had done for Y/N, she appeared in her nightmares.

She was a horrible daughter.

She heard footsteps and whirled around, instinctively taking a step back and wincing as her back slammed into the bars. A tall, dark figure creeped towards her and her breath caught in her throat — as it came into the light, she recognized him as the Fire Lord.

He chuckled coldly as he neared ever closer, the path he walked turning to flames behind him. Her eyes darted around for an escape only to find that everything was on fire. It was suffocating, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, and when she turned to look for her mother she was gone. Everything was gone, her dark void now a prison of flames.

She turned around once more and Ozai was right in front of her, the fire in his hands glowing red hot and a cruel smile on his lips.

“Did you really think you could get away that easily?”

-

She shot up in her bed, a scream on the edge of her lips but just barely managing to hold it back. Ragged breaths were ripped from her chest, her eyes shooting around wildly as she attempted to find anything at all to ground her. It took a few minutes, but with repeated mantras of it was just a dream and you are safe, she was able to calm down.

She pulled her knees to her chest and exhaled long and deep before pulling herself out of bed. It seemed that her day was going to be starting much earlier than planned.

Four years had passed since her arrival at the Northern Water Tribe, but the nightmares never ceased. It didn’t matter how many times she told herself she had done the right thing, that it was what her mother wanted, that if she stayed she would’ve died — she was constantly haunted by her past actions and memories of the Fire Nation.

She hasn’t taken off the necklace since her mother gave it to her, no matter what she does. It’s almost become a part of her now — a memory of Kura and her selflessness that knew no bounds, as well as a grim reminder of what it cost to get her here.

The Northern Water Tribe itself held countless memories of her mother — after all, it was where she had spent the first eighteen years of her life. Her name was well known throughout the tribe with nobles and elders alike, and it amazed Y/N to no end the impact that her mother left everywhere she went. She loved hearing stories about her mother and what she was like as a child, but it was always bittersweet.

She always carried an inherent sense of guilt with her because of who she lived with — her mother hadn’t been lying when she said that the necklace would get them to help her. Kura’s parents still lived in the tribe, and they had taken Y/N in after she revealed who she was. They loved her unconditionally and never made her feel like a burden, but Y/N would be lying to herself if she didn’t think they blamed her for the fate that befell her mother.

After all, she did.

She had never told anyone the full story of why she ran though. It was one thing to leave her mother behind for certain death because of the Fire Lord’s rage, it was another thing to admit that it was wholly her fault because she had fallen for a prince.

Zuko.

Not a day went by where she didn’t think of him. She still held the hope that she would see him again someday, but in lieu of travel she turned to letters.

Y/N had a shelf full of unmailed letters addressed to both Zuko and her mother — it was a way to get out her emotions whenever she was feeling particularly homesick or hopeless, and it did help at first, but after four years it had become something born out of habit rather than necessity.

She still wrote them though — Y/N had learned to hold onto any form of hope she could muster up, no matter how small, and in this moment she needed some.

She opened her shelf and rifled through piles upon piles of letters, some finished, some hardly started, and some crumpled from fits of rage, and her breath caught in her throat when her fingers brushed something different. Y/N pulled the material out and nearly started crying right then and there.

It was an unbelievably simple patch of fabric, but it meant the world to her — something that she had bought during her last night with Zuko, and one of the only pieces of material to have survived her journey to the Northern Water Tribe. She was forced to sell the rest of the fabric she had brought with her in order to make some easy money while on the run, but she had kept this as a memento. She could almost be brought back to the final sunset they shared if she looked at it for long enough.

Y/N bit down hard on her lip to stop the tears and shoved it back into the drawer before closing it and leaving her room in a haste. Sometimes she wasn’t strong enough to handle the memories.

She made her way to the living room and let out a sigh of relief when she noticed the silence. Y/N had never told her grandparents about the nightmares, and right now she just needed some time to herself. Never before was she so thankful for her grandmother’s gossiping nature and her grandfather’s work than she was in the mornings where she just wanted to be alone.

She sat down on the floor, not even bothering to get a cushion, and stared at her hands. Once smooth and untouched by the world, they were now rough and calloused with wrapped bandages resting just below her wrist. Permanent memories of what it took to get here. The ever present reminder that nothing came without a cost.

This morning seemed to be one full of yearning for the past. Y/N tried to shake her feelings off and got up once more, contemplating some steamed sea prunes before deeming it fruitless. Her appetite was lacking after her trip down memory lane.

She walked back to her room and got dressed hastily then ran out the door, but not before plucking a gift from her shelf. Today marked the birthday of a certain princess, and Y/N had to go fast if she was going to get it to her before class.

She was immediately hit by the frigid air of the North, pulling her anorak tighter around her frame as she began to run to the canals — one could always find Princess Yue there in the mornings — doing her best to avoid anyone else walking.

Y/N saw Yue just about to board one of the boats and sped up, waving one of her arms as a signal. “Yue, wait!”

She turned and her face immediately brightened up at the sight of Y/N, raising her open palm so the boatman would hold up. “Y/N! Would you like to join me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

Yue’s nod prompted a shrug as she dropped down carefully into the gondola, taking extra care not to drop her gift, and took a seat next to her friend.

“This is a nice surprise,” Yue smiled as the boatman began to waterbend, effectively moving their gondola through the canal. “But if I might ask, what brought you here so early?”

Y/N laughed, thinking her reason for coming here obvious. “It’s your birthday, princess! What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t come to wish you well in person?”

Her smile grew even brighter, the corners of her eyes creasing up in the way that made some kind of warmth blossom in Y/N’s chest. “Thank you! That’s so sweet — I’m especially honored that you woke up early just for me.”

“Of course.” Y/N brandished the gift she had been doing her best to hide, unable to do the same for her own smile. “And here’s your gift! I sewed it all myself.”

Yue gasped as she took the creation, giving it a slight squeeze and a thorough investigation before absolutely beaming. “You made me an otter penguin— oh, you know how much I love these!”

She wrapped Y/N in a tight hug before pulling away, but it was just long enough for the heat to rush to her cheeks. “Thank you so much, really. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Y/N beamed at the praise and nodded, shifting a little in her seat. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m glad you like it so much.”

The two girls grinned at each other then turned their gaze to the horizon, content to spend the rest of the ride together in comfortable silence.

Her friendship with the princess of the Northern Water Tribe was something that Y/N cherished with all her heart. She could confidently say that Princess Yue was her best friend, and she hoped it was a notion that Yue shared. As beautiful as she was kind, the princess always had a way of making her feel better on the hardest days — Yue was the only one who knew the whole truth of what happened in the Fire Nation, and she offered nothing but sympathy.

Y/N honestly didn’t know what she would do without Yue. She had been her rock during the whole process of getting situated in the tribe, always lending a helping hand when she stumbled in class or was completely oblivious to something in their culture, and she never made her feel stupid, or unwanted, or less-than for what she had come from.

The only thing that confused her about Yue was the feeling she got whenever Y/N was around her. The rushes of heat to her cheeks, the warmth blossoming in her chest, and the unusual happiness she felt anytime Yue smiled at her. The most peculiar of it all was the strange tug of jealousy any time a noble boy tried to flirt with the princess, and nothing but disinterest whenever they tried an angle on her instead.

She didn’t know what any of it meant, but she had the sneaking suspicion that it was wrong. So Y/N did the only thing she could and suppressed it.

Soon enough, though much to their chagrin, Y/N had to leave. After some exchanged hugs and one last wish of happy birthday, Y/N took off for her morning healing class. But as she hurried down the icy paths, she caught sight of the most peculiar thing.

A giant flying bison was being led through the canals with a team of waterbenders, three kids that couldn’t be any older than her on its back. One had an arrow on his head and sported orange and yellow robes, while the other two looked to be of Water Tribe descent.

Her interest was irrefutably piqued, but she didn’t have any more time to waste with gawking. So she began to run once again, apologies spilling from her lips as she maneuvered through the groups of people all just as awestruck by the strange arrival as she was. Y/N made a mental note to ask Yue about it later, but for now she was running very late to her healing class.

-

Sure enough, a few hours later, Y/N was able to get the answers she had been craving. She met up with Yue outside of the palace, and during a short walk, she learned that the boy was the Avatar. He had come to the Northern Water Tribe to master waterbending, and the two kids with him were his companions from the Southern Tribe — much to her excitement, the girl was a waterbender.

Needless to say, Y/N was even more enthusiastic than before, and Yue made her day by confirming that they would be coming to her birthday celebration that night as honored guests. She had already talked to her father about allowing Y/N to sit with her and he had said yes, which meant that she would get to meet him and his friends in person — it just served as a reminder that Y/N had no idea what she would do without Yue.

After what felt like hours of passing the time with lost games of Pai Sho against her grandfather and failed attempts at finishing her homework, it was finally time for the banquet. Once she arrived at the front of the palace she bid goodbye to her grandparents and went to find the seat that Yue had secured for her.

She settled down in the empty spot next to what she assumed was Yue’s — it was her birthday after all, so a dramatic entrance wasn’t out of the question — and nervously glanced at the three visitors, trying to figure out how to introduce herself.

Thankfully, she was saved when the girl met her eyes and waved, offering a friendly smile. “Hi! I’m Katara; this is my brother Sokka, and that’s Aang.” She gestured in their direction with her head when she said their names and they both smiled and gave her polite nods.

She returned the sentiment gratefully. “I’m Y/N— I’m one of Princess Yue’s friends. Welcome to the Northern Water Tribe!”

“Thanks!” Aang said. “We’re here to find a master so Katara and I can master waterbending.”

“Well, you’re in luck. Master Pakku is one of the best there is, and even though he’s a total jerk, he’ll be able to teach you everything you need to know. And Katara, we have some amazing healing teachers— I can bring you along to my class tomorrow if you’re interested!”

Katara’s eyes lit up. “You’re a waterbender too?” When Y/N nodded, her smile grew even bigger, though slightly wistful.

“I’d really appreciate that,” she admitted, though her brows knit together. “But I’d like to learn from Master Pakku as well.”

Y/N frowned, about to correct her, when the distinct sound of drums began to echo throughout the hall. Her displeasure immediately disappeared as she grinned at them all excitedly, gesturing with her head towards the action.

Chief Arnook stood up from his spot and their table, his low voice booming. “Tonight, we celebrate the arrival of our brother and sister from the Southern Tribe. And they have brought with them someone very special, someone whom many of us believed disappeared from the world until now… the Avatar!”

Y/N’s own applause joined a symphony of others clapping and cheering as Aang waved bashfully, and once it died down, Arnook continued. “We also celebrate my daughter’s sixteenth birthday. Princess Yue is now of marrying age!”

She grinned as Yue walked out alongside her attendants — she would never get used to her beauty. Y/N noticed the way that Sokka’s eyes widened as he stared at her, and her stomach twisted at the act for some unknown reason.

“Thank you, Father,” she said. “May the great Ocean and Moon Spirits watch over us during these troubled times!”

Arnook smiled at his daughter and directed his attention back to his people. “Now, Master Pakku and his students will perform!”

She could tell that Katara and Aang were enraptured by the bending, while Sokka’s attention was already on Yue as she walked over to sit between Sokka and Y/N.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Yue exclaimed, greeting her friend with a short embrace.

Y/N gave her a sideways smile. “If you think that I would miss your birthday and a banquet, then I’m afraid you’re out of practice on Y/N trivia.”

The princess laughed and nodded amiably then turned her attention to Sokka, ever the diplomat.

“Hi there,” he grinned. “Sokka, Southern Water Tribe.”

Yue returned the sentiment and gave him a slight bow. “Very nice to meet you.”

As their conversation went on, Y/N found herself tuning out a bit. For whatever reason, she had to actively stop herself from rolling her eyes at Sokka’s flirting, that same feeling in her stomach coming back. She made a mental note to see a healer about her issues.

“Hey, Y/N!” She snapped out of her self-imposed trance at the sound of Katara calling her name as she gestured for her to come over. It looked like Aang had gotten up to converse with Master Pakku and Chief Arnook, so she took the invitation and switched seats.

“I can’t tell you how nice it is to finally be here,” Katara said once Y/N had settled next to her. “Back home, I’m the only waterbender. Here… it’s like paradise. It almost feels too good to be true. I mean, even seeing you is crazy — I’ve never met a waterbender my age.”

Y/N smiled, though not without a hint of sadness. “I’m sorry that it’s taken so long for you to be able to experience this. How are you the only bender left down there?”

Katara was silent for a moment, a flurry of emotions warring on her face, before she answered. “The Southern Tribe hasn’t fared half as well as the Northern Tribe during the war. We don’t have one big, huge capital like this, we’re all split up into small villages. The Fire Nation has just been relentless with their raids, and without support from the North and a lack of communication between our sister tribes in the South, they were able to wipe us all out. Except for me.”

“Spirits, Katara…” Y/N set an amiable hand on her shoulder and squeezed, hoping that her softened expression could say what her words couldn’t. “My village was invaded when I was young, too. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that.”

She nodded pensively but managed to meet her eyes with an appreciative smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry about your village as well.” Her gaze drifted off, once again taking in the view around them, and when Katara met her eyes again she seemed better. “But we’re here now, and I’m planning to take advantage of everything I can, starting with all this food. Which one of these is your favorite?”

Y/N grinned as Katara pointed at the platter of various dishes in front of them. “Oh, you’ve got to try this. See that giant crab up there? That’s what this is, and you have not lived until you have tried Northern crab.”

Conversation flowed just as easily through the rest of the night between the two girls, occasionally switching to include Sokka and Yue and eventually Aang once he returned. Between the swells of pride whenever they laughed at her jokes, getting to learn about all three of them, and the almost palpable euphoria in the air, Y/N was sure of one thing:

This was the happiest she had felt in a long time. She could only hope it would last.

-

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ehfar: @chandies-sideblog @persica27 @anzanity @randomthingssss @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @shanksfav @shephard17895

atla: @marianne1806

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko fic #zuko x reader fic #zuko #avatar #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla fic #avatar fic #reader insert #avatar x reader #sadie writes #ehfar #y/n is having bi panic when she doesn't even know wtf the fuck bi is #she can't help it that her friend is the prettiest girl in the world

[blu-joons]

Conflicting Schedules ~ Jeong Yoonoh

You couldn’t help but sigh in relief when you heard the passcode finally be entered to your apartment. You’d been sat for hours wondering if there would be any sign of Yoonoh before you went to bed, unsure of where he was, whether he was safe or not, or if he even remembered that you’d be waiting to see him.

As soon as he walked into the apartment and saw you stretched out across the sofa, he could feel the tension. He knew that you’d been waiting, it was what you always did for him, even if sometimes he didn’t deserve you to do so.

There was silence from you as he walked around to take a seat on the sofa, sensing by the look on your face that you were far from impressed with him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, keeping a small distance between you both as he took a seat, “I didn’t think we’d end up recording as late as we ended up doing so.”

“It’s fine,” you lied, continuing to stare forwards, unwilling to give Yoonoh much of your attention. “It’s fine that yet again I’m here waiting without a clue what’s going on with you as if I’m completely nothing to you.”

Your words took Yoonoh by surprise, but they weren’t too unexpected either. Your frustrations were fair, even if slightly harsh towards him. “My phone was in my bag, and I spent most of my time in the booth away from it.”

“I get it, it’s been the same story for weeks, maybe even months at this point.”

“I’m trying Y/N, but I don’t have as much time to give you as others probably do.”

You scoffed lightly at Yoonoh’s response, unsure of whether he even had any time to spend with you at all with how busy he seemed to be recently with work.

“You know, at times recently I’ve found myself wondering what the point is anymore Yoonoh, it’s like we don’t know each other, and yet somehow we’re expected to love each other too.”

His eyes looked away from you, feeling a twang of pain hit out at his heart in response to your honesty. “You have no idea how much I wish things could be different, and I’m even more sure that you have no idea just how much I love you too.”

“I don’t, because I never feel like I’m loved anymore.”

It was a bitter pill for Yoonoh to swallow, a much tougher hit than he ever expected your words to be. “I’m trying Y/N and it hurts me to know that you can’t see that, I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do but at least try.”

You remembered the days when you felt like Yoonoh tried so well. He’d show up at your apartment at crazy hours of the day, organise full days for the two of you to do anything you wanted. It was a far cry from the life that you found yourself leading these days, with your days spent alone, and no surprise calls at all.

Your head shook, trying to keep a hold of your composure. “I want to feel like I have a boyfriend again Yoonoh rather than just a stranger who sometimes decides to show up at my door.”

“I know, and I want to be that person for you too. Just please don’t ever doubt the way I feel for you, please don’t think that because I’m not here, that I’m not thinking about you.”

“What else am I supposed to think?” You questioned, finally turning your eyes to look at his glum figure. “The only thing you seem to do is work, your schedule is insane, and I’m just a gap fill for whenever you have some time.”

His head shook, reaching his hand out to rest against your leg as he noticed how overwhelmed you were becoming. The emotions had been bubbling for quite some time, for you both, and were very quickly threatening to spill.

“I want for us to get better,” Yoonoh whispered softly, squeezing against your leg, “I want for us to go back to the way we used to be able be able to spend time with each other again. It kills me when I know that I have to go a day without even being able to speak to you, I love work, but I hate it at the same time too.”

“How can we possibly change, or get better,” you frowned, knowing just how crammed Yoonoh’s schedule was for the foreseeable. “Your life isn’t going to change for a long time.”

Although his head nodded in agreement with you, there was still a plan in the back of his mind. “Just because my life isn’t going to change, doesn’t mean I can’t change. I’ve left life, or work, get in the way for far too long now.”

He slowly moved a little closer towards you, trying to not make the situation anymore overwhelming for you. It had been a while since the two of you even had the chance to be this close.

“I don’t want to be the reason that you’re unhappy, I want to be the reason that you wake up and go to bed with a smile everyday Y/N. I just need to know that you can trust in me to try and make this change that we so desperately need.”

“Of course, I trust in you, but how can it be so easy?”

Yoonoh didn’t quite have the answers yet, but he had the determination to at least try and make things easy. “We both love each other, that’s got to at least count for something, don’t you think? We can’t just let go otherwise it’s all been for nothing.”

“I don’t want to let go, but I can barely hold on anymore.”

His head nodded, slowly beginning to understand your pain. “I won’t let you slip away; I promise that things are going to get easier for the both of us from now on.”

Your hand slowly moved across to relax over Yoonoh’s much bigger one. “I’m exhausted of the way that we’ve been living.”

“I have too, which is why from now on we’re never going to go back to those days again.”

The two of you always knew you had a huge amount of love for each other, it was the core that kept you together. There had been plenty of fractures, some bigger than others that tried to chip away, but that core structure somehow managed to keep you together.

“When I go to work tomorrow, I’m going to make sure that I have some more time off, time that I can come and spend with you instead rather than leaving you all alone.”

You were relieved more than anything to hear the willingness from Yoonoh to make the change that you had been so desperate to see.

“No more late nights by yourself, or days when you’re missing me,” he assured you, “you’ll be desperate to see me leave soon enough.”

“After so long apart, I don’t think that that will ever happen.”

A soft chuckle came from him as he moved his other arm to wrap around your shoulders, “I’m sorry that I’ve let you down for so long, but I truly hope you know that I love you, even if you think that I don’t, I really do.”

“I know, and it’s because I love you that I’m still here too,” you whispered.

“Just make sure you don’t go anywhere, please.”

---

Masterlist

#nct #nct imagine #jaehyun #jaehyun imagine #yoonoh #yoonoh imagine #nct reaction #nct scenario #nct jaehyun #nct yoonoh #jeong yoonoh #jeong yoonoh imagine #nct drabble #nct one shot #nct angst #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun reaction #jaehyun drabble #jaehyun one shot #jaehyun angst #nct 127 #nct 127 imagine #kpop #kpop imagine

[fruitcoops]

ok so firstly I love any loops and jules fic but secondly could we have one where jules is having a really tough time (either missing loops/ picked on etc. ) and then we see loops (not coops) surprise him and is just so protective - just sibling fluff that’s it

Oh Jules, I’m sorry I did this to you. What a wonderful prompt, though! I’m always down to write sibling fluff! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for bullying (older kids picking on younger kids)

Contrary to popular belief, Jules didn’t brag about his brother every minute of every day. There was no point, and he wanted to be known for his own talents rather than living in Remus’ shadow for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, some people didn’t seem to understand that.

A balled of lined paper smacked into the back of his head. “Heads up, Loopy!”

Jules threw the ball back; it bounced off the end of the table and hit the ground pathetically. “Nice shot,” Aidan snorted as he passed, bumping his shoulder against Jules’ and making him stumble. Several people laughed. His face burned with embarrassment.

“Yeah, I bet your brother’s really proud of that,” Luke sneered. He was a big kid, far bigger than Jules both in height and muscle even though he was only a couple years older.

“Don’t talk about my brother,” Jules said, much quieter than intended.

Luke raised his eyebrows. “What’re you going do about it, Loopy?”

“Just shut up.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” He leaned across the cafeteria table and Jules fought the urge to back away. “Huh? Your brother? He’s never around.”

“He’s busy.”

“He doesn’t want to be here.”

“He does,” Jules insisted, feeling his throat tighten. “He does, he just doesn’t have time—”

“He’s a celebrity, dude, no wonder he doesn’t want his tagalong brother around.”

It’s not true, Jules told himself. It’s not true. Time and time again, Remus had told him that hockey came second to family, but after months of not seeing him it was starting to feel false. “Shut up.”

Luke shifted in his seat and folded his hands. “Face it, Loopy: your brother’s not around because he’d rather spend time with his cool friends than an annoying little kid.”

“Leave me alone.” Jules’ voice cracked and Luke grinned.

“You’re gonna cry?” he asked, full of false sympathy. “Aw, poor baby.”

“It’s not true.” It was getting harder to believe the words. “He visits whenever he can.”

The lunch bell rang before Luke could retaliate; he ruffled Jules’ hair too hard to be comfortable and left, already laughing with his group of friends. What a dick, Jules thought as he swallowed down the tears.

He made it through the rest of his classes in a daze and walked home on muscle memory. It was a cold day for April, but maybe he could blame his red-rimmed eyes on the wind. Maybe Luke is right, part of him argued. There wasn’t a lot of evidence, but it was enough to make him want to throw up.

“Hey, baby, how was your day?” his mother called when he opened the door.

That was the tipping point, the tiny pebble that shattered the cracked glass dam holding back his tears. Jules sobbed once, dropped his backpack on the floor, and ran for the safety of his bedroom. “Jules—” The slam of his door cut his father’s concern short.

He grabbed the family picture off his wall and threw it across the room—there was no glass or frame, only tape, so seeing it flutter to the ground was far less satisfying than he had hoped. Remus had him on his shoulders for the picture; they all looked so happy. Jules sat down on the other side of his bed and buried his face in his arms, letting the emotions he had been holding in for three full hours flood out.

Deep down, he knew Luke was a liar and a bully with nothing better to do than pick on younger kids. That didn’t mean his words hurt any less.

A few minutes later, there was a gentle knock on the door. “Go away!”

There was a brief pause, then another knock.

“Just—just please give me a minute, mom!”

“I’m not mom.” Jules’ heart skipped a beat. “Can I come in?”

You’ve never been around to help me before. Anger reared up in his chest. “No!”

Remus hesitated for a moment. Jules hoped he was shocked, stunned, hurt. “Okay.”

There was a rustling noise; he looked around the foot of the bed to see a shadow in the crack beneath the door. “Are you—what are you doing?”

“Sitting down.”

“Go away.”

“No.”

“Mom, make him go away!”

“What did I do, Jules?” Remus sounded sad. There was none of his usual teasing in his tone. The anger twisted around in Jules and he scrubbed at the tears and snot on his face.

“When did you get here?” He knew he was being rude; his mother would have given him a pursed-lips look if he talked like that to anyone normally.

“A couple hours ago. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It’s a terrible surprise. Go away.”

“Not until you tell me what I did.”

Jules took a few shallow breaths before answering. “You’re never here. Never.”

“I know. I’m s—”

“I hate you,” he sobbed, bringing his knees tighter to his chest. “I hate you so much.”

There was a long stretch of silence on the other side of the door, but the shadow remained. “That’s fair,” Remus said quietly.

“No, it’s not!” Jules clambered to his feet and stomped over to the door, wrenching it open. “It’s not fair! I shouldn’t hate you, this is your job! You should—you should—”

Remus looked up at him from his crosslegged seat on the carpet. “I should what?”

“You should yell at me. Or make me open the door, or do anything that makes me angry at you.” He sniffled and hugged himself.

“When have I ever yelled at you?”

“The rat. And the water balloons. And when I stole your sticks. And when I froze your underwear.”

Remus winced slightly. “Fair point. I don’t keep yelling once you’re in the room, though, right?”

Jules deflated. “No.”

“So I’m not going to yell at you. Also, your bedroom smells weird, so I don’t want to go in there unless I have to.”

A smile tried forcing its way out and Jules covered it with his best scowl. “My room doesn’t smell weird.”

Remus sniffed the air, then shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

“Why are you here?”

“Mom said she was getting ice cream.”

Jules perked up. “Did she?”

“No.” Remus held up the car keys. “We can fix that problem, though. Go get your shoes.”

“Can I drive?’

“If you can convince dad, sure.” Remus stood up and mussed his hair; his hand was gentle, though, unlike Luke’s. It was a welcome change.

He grabbed his sneakers from under his bed and hopped down the hall as he pulled them on. “Dad, can I drive?”

His father didn’t even look up from the paper. “When Hell freezes over, buddy.”

“Lyall,” his mother scolded from the kitchen, though her eyes crinkled at the edges. “Remus, remember not to swear around your brother!”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he said, holding the door open for Jules as he shrugged his coat on.

They drove in relative silence, save for the Top Rock Hits of the Eighties cassette that they had each heard half a billion times. Remus pulled into the Dairy Queen drive-thru and rattled off Jules’ favorite without even having to ask. Somehow, that both soothed him and upset him even more. He handed the cone over carefully, stuck his blizzard in the cupholder, and started driving in the opposite direction of the house.

“Are you kidnapping me?” Jules asked, licking a stray drip of vanilla off the cone.

“I don’t think I can, seeing as we’re related.”

“You can. You don’t have custody.”

“Why do you know that?”

“Why don’t you, Mr. Fancy Degree?”

“This might surprise you, but they don’t exactly cover the intricacies of kidnapping in PT school.”

“Shame.”

Remus made a noise of agreement around the straw of his Blizzard as they rolled to a stop at the red light. “So, are we going to talk?”

“We already are.”

“Dude.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He made a face when a chunk of Oreo got stuck the straw. “If you get that out before the next light, you can have a sip.”

Jules took it and squeezed the thin plastic. “Luke Sanders is an asshole.”

“Language.” The car stopped again and Jules showed off the unblocked straw. “Do continue, though.”

“You’ve hit every red light since we left the house. That’s got to be a curse.” He took a long sip, then handed it across the console. “You like hanging out with me, right?”

“Obviously. You’re, like, my favorite person.” Remus gave him a confused look.

“Okay, cool.” Jules felt his hands start to shake again, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from his ice cream. Just hearing him say that made a tsunami of relief run through him. “Cool.”

“Did Luke Sanders tell you I didn’t?”

“He said a lot of stuff.”

Remus pulled into a parking lot, then took the key out and turned in his seat. “Like what?”

Jules shrugged one shoulder. “That you don’t want to be here.”

“And?” His voice had softened.

“And that it’s my fault, since I’m an annoying little tagalong.” Jules picked at the paper wrapper around his cone and didn’t look up. “He’s got a p—”

“If you say he’s got a point, all your underwear is going in the freezer.” All traces of gentleness were gone from his tone, leaving tightly-controlled fury in its place.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t—” Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t apologize, Jules.”

“You’re upset.”

“Yeah, because some little shit was picking on my brother and I wasn’t there to kick his ass.”

“I can handle it.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him even more. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Sometimes.”

“Have you told anyone?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to be a tattletale.”

“Jules, there’s a difference between being a tattletale and reporting a bully.” Remus tipped his chin up. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Jules’ lower lip wobbled. “I missed you. I always miss you, but he’s been really awful recently and he keeps saying the same stupid stuff over and over.”

Remus’ nose and cheeks reddened. “I missed you, too. If I could be here all the time, I would.”

“I know it’s not your fault, and I know you’re busy.” He wiped away another tear and tried to pull himself together. “But it’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” Remus agreed. “It’s not fair that I’m gone nine months out of the year, and it’s not right that people are making fun of you for it. Hang on for a second, okay?”

Jules nodded, still drying his cheeks. Remus got out of the car and jogged to the other side, then opened the passenger door and gestured for him to get out; as soon as his sneakers touched the ground, he was lifted almost a foot into the air. “I’m sorry for yelling,” he managed, burying his face in his brother’s neck.

Remus kissed the side of his head and held him close. “I’m sorry I’m not around more.”

He hooked his chin over Remus’ shoulder. “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Will you be here whenever you can? I know that might not be often, but just…when you can.”

He felt Remus’ chest hitch against him. “Always,” he whispered. “Always.”

[jenomark]

JANUARY

➔Pairing: Doyoung x Reader (Female) | Jaehyun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Plot (ft. smut, romance, angst, fluff etc.) ➔Warnings: Angst ➔Word count: 4,716

➔Summary: You are dating handsome and lovable Jaehyun. You stay at his apartment all of the time, along with his roommate Doyoung. Doyoung has feelings for you, which he doesn’t quite understand. What begins as an innocent crush changes the lives of all three people over the course of seven months.

AUGUST SEPTEMBER OCTOBER NOVEMBER DECEMBER

Jaehyun sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, leaning back on his arms, his hair a tousled mess, and his eyes red from not sleeping well. Moving never agreed with him. He hated change and how hard it was to settle into newness. He aspired to keep things as they were, which was why he hardly shopped for new shirts or baseball caps. The older and more used things were, the happier they made him feel. He didn’t want to exist in a world where he had to pick out new things to decorate a new apartment with, to pretend like he cared about separate cutting boards, one for meat and the other for vegetables.

Maybe he was just tired of giving a shit altogether.

He sat for a while on the wood floor that was scuffed after having to move his furniture alone. He kicked a lone sheet of bubble wrap with his foot, trying his best just to pop a bubble with his big toe. He blew hot air out of his mouth and looked around, willing his brain not to stir up old memories.

His phone rang and he ignored the call, something he didn’t often do. Jaehyun was a social butterfly. He liked talking to people, and liked the attention at the other end of the call, the way someone could feel excited just by talking to him. He knew the people he loved would be worried about him, and he resented any of those feelings they might have.

“I’m a grown up, for fucks sake.” he had told his mother before he left to pack up his apartment on his own.

His mother didn’t raise an argument, just let her only son go. So, Jaehyun was left alone to pack up his whole life, or what was left of it. By the time he got to the apartment he used to share, more than half of the things were gone. He hadn’t realized how little material possessions he owned, or how easy it was to pack up what he did have.

Jaehyun got to his feet. He knew he had to make a move and look for a new apartment for one person. It really was time to grow up and be the man he always wanted to be. He took one last look around the apartment before he locked it up forever, crossing that threshold and only thinking about you once.

December

“-I cheated on you.” he said. “I cheated on you the night I went to the bar without you.”

He meant it to sting. He wanted to see how the realization would set in, how the relief would slowly be replaced by repulsiveness. Your pretty little face scrunched up with it until you opened your mouth to berate him. More than anything, he wanted you to blame him for ruining the relationship, to use him as an excuse for your own infidelity.

Instead, there was only relief. It made Jaehyun feel disappointed.

“Do I know her?” you asked.

“No.” Jaehyun said. “She was a stranger. That doesn’t matter. It was just one time”

He was lying through his teeth. Not the best liar, Jaehyun was surprised you bought it. You looked understanding, which made him want to hurt you, really hurt you. The fight left him as soon as you admitted defeat. It was easy to love you but harder to unlove you.

“I have something to confess.” you said, sounding as pathetic as you looked.

He didn’t always know that you were cheating with Doyoung. There was a time, in the beginning, he used to laugh behind Doyoung’s back at his little crush on you. It was like a game for Jaehyun to watch his roommate squirm any time you walked into the room. It gave Jaehyun a mental pat on the back to know that he could get someone like you, someone everyone else wanted, someone Jaehyun’s roommate could not get. Looking back on it, it was wrong of him to think like this. Like everyone else, he was still learning how to be a better human being. He thought it would just take time.

Jaehyun had many crushes throughout his life, so he could hardly blame Doyoung for what should have been an innocent crush. You were pretty special. In a lot of ways, Jaehyun wished he hadn’t taken you for granted so much, because there were aspects to the relationship that were so good for him. He felt stupid to lose them. Also, you were beautiful and the sex was some of the best he’d ever had.

He supposed that he became really suspicious the feelings weren’t unrequited around Halloween. Something felt off at the party, and it had nothing to do with his drinking. You glowed whenever you were around Doyoung, much brighter than he himself ever could make you. That was the profound moment, the one where he tried so hard to convince himself that it wasn’t true. He began to blame himself for thinking negatively. The guilt ate away at him, gnawing at him whenever he was alone with his thoughts.

“Should I be scared of this confession?” Jaehyun asked.

There was so much bitterness dripping from his voice, but he was trying his best to remain neutral. Seeing the way your face deflated made him feel sympathetic towards you, something he was learning that adults could do.

You nodded, the tears falling quietly.

“Say it.” Jaehyun said.

You looked at him. He would always remember the way you looked at him, and how he wished things had turned out differently. In your eyes, he could see how certain you were of the future, how sure you were with your own choices.

“I cheated on you, too.” you said.

Jaehyun didn’t react like you wanted him to, which threw everything off. Your expression was accusatory, and he could see that you were wondering if either of you ever loved each other to begin with.

“Do I know him?” he asked.

“You don’t seem surprised.”

Jaehyun shrugged. “What does that say about you?” He squeezed his fists down by his side to calm down. He tried a different approach and added, “We shouldn’t do this outside.”

He started walking towards the car, hoping you would follow, but you didn’t. He walked back to you, reaching out his hand to touch your arm.

“You knew.” you said, the realization dawning on you slowly. “You knew I cheated on you this whole time?”

Jaehyun let his hand fall down by his side. When he spoke, his voice was thick. “Yes, I knew.”

“Did you cheat on me because I cheated on you?”

“Let’s talk about it in the car, please.”

He started walking, but again, you didn’t follow. Frustrated, Jaehyun turned back around. He looked at the windows to make sure no one was watching the show. He didn’t need his mother or his little cousins knowing what a wreck his life could sometimes be. By then, all the steam had left him. He was no longer angry or bitter, just numb.

“Yes, I knew you cheated on me,” he said. “I didn’t cheat on you because you cheated on me. What level of petty do you think I am?”

“How long have you known?” you asked.

“Does it matter?”

You looked terrified and so small. Jaehyun had to resist the urge to scoop you up and hold you in the cold air. He was still an asshole, but he was becoming a sensitive asshole. He thinks that’s the moment where the true change began.

Slowly, you started walking towards him. You both made it back to the car, a place that was starting to feel too heavy for Jaehyun, too boxed in. Closing the car door blocked out all of the air and sound. It was just the two of you, one person silently crying and the other trying his best not to break down with you.

“Why him?” was all Jaehyun said.

It was a question that had been bugging him for a long time. Sure, Doyoung was more emotionally available. He was outwardly intelligent. His charms were many, and he wasn’t bad looking. He kept most of his promises and could have been a good friend in a past life. People never had the wrong idea about Doyoung when they first met him, either, not like they did with Jaehyun. Their opinion of Jaehyun wavered, but Doyoung always brought forth the same reaction. He was the man a mother could like. He was the one you fell in love with, the one who felt right from the start.

Jaehyun could feel the mood in the car turn even more sour. You didn’t know he also knew it was with Doyoung. Maybe you were going to convince him that it was someone unimportant, some random in a bar, just like his story.

“Am I that awful?” Jaehyun asked. “I know I haven’t been here for you a whole lot. Our relationship hasn’t been the best.”

You cried a little harder. “No, you’re not awful.”

“So, why? Why do this to me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Good to know.” Jaehyun said, starting the car.

He drove away in silence, the only sound coming from the hum of the car. He dropped you off in front of his and Doyoung’s apartment. It was getting harder to remain feeling numb. As he sat in the car in front of his apartment, Jaehyun could feel every emotion flooding through his veins. He gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white.

“I’m not coming inside,” he said. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay until both of you are out of my apartment. Take as long as you need.”

You got out of the car and came around to the side where Jaehyun’s window was open. He opened it to the cool night air in order to breathe in the freshness. It just ended up making him feel ice cold, inside and outside.

Jaehyun leaned out of it and said, “By the way, I never really cheated on you. I just said that to make you admit it. Thanks for saying it.”

The numbness returned and followed him around for roughly a month. You and Doyoung moved out within three days, not bothering to stew in feelings of guilt, like he wanted you to. Jaehyun didn't know what to do with himself, after that.

He would walk in and out of Doyoung’s empty room in the apartment, thinking up memories of you two fucking where Doyoung used to keep his bed. It was tortuous and stupid, and it helped no one in the long run, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying to draw emotions out of the pit of his belly.

Not seeing you had made it harder for him to move on. He thought about going to see you at your job, to casually stop by where he knew your group of work friends would be, but there were people in his life who always talked him out of it. He just wanted to feel something, anything at all.

His own work friends suggested he hook up with random strangers, but he never actually had it in him to go out and do it. Building any kind of relationship with someone wasn’t a great idea, even if it made him feel like he was getting some kind of sexual revenge on you. Walking around his half-empty apartment wasn’t the best choice either, but it helped him pass the time.

He didn’t get to tell you, but it was Doyoung that eluded him to the affair. When Jaehyun had asked him to take care of you, he had never seen someone so confident in his ability to do so. There was love in that man's eyes, a love that can only be felt when the person you love loves you right back. A little after that, when Jaehyun really looked at you and saw you, he confirmed that something serious was going on.

In a way, Jaehyun hoped it was just sex. He could take it if you and Doyoung were sneaking off just to fuck each other when he was at work. Adding love into the mix hurt him a little more, made him aware of the things he lacked.

So, back and forth he went like that across the apartment. He did things he wasn’t proud of. He blamed himself and didn’t blame anyone else but you. He cursed your name in the darkness. He took his aggression out on Doyoung, even going so far as to ring up his work and tell them Doyoung was thinking about quitting. It really was petty, which maybe he definitely was being, but it wasn’t anything he couldn't correct himself for. He was trying. He really was.

Jaehyun took the last box from the top of the stairs, carrying it down in his arms like a delicate baby. On the side of the fridge, the only thing he wasn’t taking with him, was a calendar marking the end days in January. He thought of the next tenants moving in, and how they’d throw it out without hesitation. Maybe they’d have a more solid year ahead of them than he felt he did.

He couldn’t believe how fast time was moving, and he willed it to just slow down long enough for him to catch his breath. Soon enough, it would be February, and he’d have been single for nearly two months. The thought of spending his birthday alone made him sick to his stomach.

He walked down the stairs, looking into the box to see an old picture frame belonging to you on top. It was one your dad had taken of you as a child at the zoo. You were in shorts, your knobby knees sticking out, and your missing-toothed smile making him want to smile back. Jaehyun kept it in his room because it reminded him from time to time of you, of how one person can come into his life and change it all.

Jaehyun didn’t just want to throw it out, so he kept it with him until he moved. He didn’t know what to do with it now, but he figured he should probably return it. You’d want that photograph more than he did, but just barely.

After feeling like he wanted the whole world against you, Jaehyun started to refocus his attention on self-care and self-love. Slowly, he began to unpack his own responses to things, how he could choose to act better in every situation, and how the only person holding him back from a better life was him.

He began to feel better, too. It wasn’t going to cure him, but it was worth a start. He couldn’t stop the pessimism from reaching inside of his shirt and clawing at his bare skin, but he could change some things that didn’t serve him.

When he reached the outside, his heart a little raw from seeing your childhood photo, his mother was waiting for him in her car. Sometimes a momma's boy just needed his momma. He placed the box in the backseat and slid into the passenger seat.

“Are you ready?” she asked, patting his knee.

“I am.”

Bars felt comfortable because they were noisy. He would go to one after work, order a drink and sip on it until he felt tired and went home. He wasn’t there to get drunk or to meet new people. Sometimes, he caught up with his work friends. Other times, he sat there alone, chit-chatting to the bartender on duty. He laughed when things were funny. He let his foot tap away against the floor when the music was good.

“Is this seat taken?”

A pretty girl was standing hesitantly in front of the chair next to him. Jaehyun smiled and shook his head no. She sat down beside him, bringing her purse on her lap and looking at him with curiosity.

“I see you here a lot.” she said.

“Ahh,” Jaehyun said. “I think that’s my cue to stop coming every day. I swear, I’m not an alcoholic.”

Her eyes widened, afraid that she had offended him. “I didn’t mean-”

“-I’m kidding.” Jaehyun said. "It's a joke."

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Jaehyun pushed his empty glass away from him and swiveled his chair to face her more. She looked self-conscious with the way she tucked her hair behind her ear. Jaehyun felt too awkward, so he turned his chair back around.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked.

“No.” She said, “I came to talk to you because you looked lonely.”

To that, Jaehyun didn’t know what to say. Instead, he ordered another drink and let her talk his ear off. She talked about everything and nothing the whole night. Jaehyun partly listened and partly let his mind wander. She was nice and interesting enough, but he wasn’t ready to start talking to other women in a way that suggested sex or relationships.

He could have used a friend. He would have liked to have found a friend in her, but she made it clear that she wasn’t interested in him in that way when her hand found her way to his thigh. She moved it upward with each word she spoke, her fingertips dangerously close to fondling him.

“This was fun.” Jaehyun said, feeling the buzz of alcohol running through his system. “Unfortunately, I have work early tomorrow and need a full night's rest. See you sometime?”

The girl looked taken aback at the sudden change of events. Jaehyun got up from his chair, said goodnight to her and sauntered out of the door. He hadn’t even realized they didn’t exchange names.

Jaehyun decided to walk home. The night was cold in the way winter was, but manageable. His jacket kept him warm enough, and if his bones chilled, he hardly noticed. He watched people as he walked, watched them happily walking along the sidewalks and dipping into whatever door they fancied. Slowly, he began to smile and feel more at ease, but maybe it was the alcohol making him feel that way. Or maybe it was a sudden feeling that maybe everything could be alright, only if he allowed it.

He woke up and he was drooling. Jaehyun lifted his head from the pillow, looking to his left and right. There was a knocking sound that felt like it was coming from inside of his head. He hadn’t been that tipsy last night, so he knew a hangover was not the cause. He lifted himself up from the bed in his mothers spare bedroom and threw his legs over the side of his bed.

The knocking continued, more feverishly than before. Jaehyun ignored it and picked up his phone to see if he had any missed calls. There were none.

“I’m coming!” Jaehyun yelled when the final knocks were more forceful. He muttered to himself,” Fucking fuck.”

He walked across the room before realizing he was shirtless. He grabbed a dirty t-shirt from the floor and brought it over his head, letting the hem of it meet his sweatpants. In case it was one of his mothers snooty friends, he looked in the mirror and cleaned up his messy hair. He didn’t need anyone judging him for sleeping past noon on a weekend.

“Coming.” Jaehyun called again.

He walked out of the spare bedroom that was just to the left of the living room and ducked down to see if he could recognize the person standing on the porch. Or rather, people. He saw just a flip of hair before he ran behind the door and held his hand to his chest to get his heart to stop beating.

Doyoung’s voice was low and quiet, but Jaehyun could hear everything he said. “We’ll come back later. He's not home.”

Jaehyun didn’t have to hear your voice to know that you were there, too , that the hair he saw belonged to you. It was dyed a darker color, but it was unmistakably you. Yet, hearing the sound of your voice made his toes curl underneath him. He didn’t think seeing you so soon after the breakup would help him.

“He’s home.” you said, your voice somewhat impatient.

It was smart of you to come when his mother was at work. He thought you might have purposely done it this way, to avoid any more awkwardness. After all, Jaehyun’s mother was sure to ride for her son, to take a look at both of them standing on the porch and curse them out. At that imagery, Jaehyun smiled to himself.

“I don’t know.” Doyoung said, his voice nervous. "Should we be bothering him like this? It's too soon."

Jaehyun backed away from the door. He wondered if he had time to run back into the bedroom and get himself more presentable. He wanted you to see what you had been missing out on. He was a handsome guy, definitely one worth giving a second look to. He suddenly wished he had taken that girl at the bar home and fucked her, so that he could talk to you and Doyoung and have her walk out of the bedroom naked, unaware of what was going on. He'd love to see the look on your face then.

No, Jaehyun thought to himself. I should appear wounded. I am wounded.

The unkempt hair and slightly red-rimmed eye look was working in his favor. Before giving it another thought, Jaehyun whipped open the front door to his mothers house and faced them both down. He kept his face stoic, his voice even. “Can I help you?”

It was Doyoung who spoke first, his voice not as sharp as usual. “You have something of hers. She was wondering if she could have it back.”

“Can she speak for herself?” Jaehyun asked.

The whole time Doyoung was speaking, Jaehyun kept his eyes on you. It was a mistake to do so. There was nothing more heartbreaking than to see how well you were surviving. Your skin was glowing and flawless. Your new hair made you look mature in a way that was sure to make everyone notice you. You were dressed in nice clothes that matched Doyoung’s vibe. Jaehyun couldn't stop the jealousy from taking root in his soul.

“She can.” you said, speaking for yourself. “You have my picture and I’d like it back. Do you, by any chance, have it here?”

Jaehyun wasn’t really listening. He was looking into your eyes, daring himself to get lost in them. Maybe it was the fact that you were unattainable now, but it made him want you all over again. It was hard to let you go.

“Are you two dating now?” Jaehyun asked.

All three were silent, even Jaehyun. As soon as he spoke the words, he began to wish they’d stuff themselves back inside of his mouth. Jaehyun tried to recover and said, “That’s none of my business. Of course, I have your photo. I’ll get it.”

In their faces, Jaehyun shut the front door. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack. He clawed at his own neck and willed himself to breathe. He walked through his mom's house and went down to the basement where he was temporarily storing his belongings. Apartment hunting was going decently well, but he found out he could hardly afford more than a pot to piss in by himself. Having his mother support him had been a blessing, but it wasn’t easy.

After rifling through some boxes, he found the photo in question. The first few days he spent with his mother, he kept it on his bedside table. When he realized it was causing him too much pain, he brought it down to the basement with the rest of his things. He never thought you would come back to get it, or to remember it, or to show your face at his mother's house.

When Jaehyun opened the front door back up, you were gone. Doyoung stood, his eyes struggling to make eye contact. Jaehyun opened the screen door wide and handed the photograph in its frame to Doyoung.

“If you’re here to apologize, don’t bother.” Jaehyun said. “I’m over it.”

It was a lie, one too obvious for either to believe. Doyoung’s grace allowed him to let it go, to open his mouth and shut it right away. Jaehyun sat down on one of the porch chairs and motioned for Doyoung to do the same. Jaehyun shot a look in the direction of where you waited in a car, his face not betraying what he was feeling inside.

“I’ve been thinking about what I should say to you,” Jaehyun said. “But I’ve come up with nothing. All of that anger, and it still feels like I’m a fool with no way to defend myself.”

“You’re not a fool.” Doyoung said.

“You make me a fool by saying that.” Jaehyun said. “I’m a fool who was cheated on and too stupid to realize it, even with my suspicions. By my best friend, of all people.”

“Was I your best friend?” Doyoung asked. He sounded surprised, a little annoyed.

Jaehyun didn’t have an answer for that. Before, he would have answered it quickly. Of course you were my best friend. You were my roommate, my punching bag, and my buddy when all else failed. He had let Jaehyun’s lady live there because he was a nice guy, not because he was secretly in love with her. At that thought, Jaehyun chuckled darkly.

“Maybe not.” Jaehyun said. “It seems I never really had either relationship in the first place.”

“You didn’t want me to apologize.”

“No,” Jaehyun said. “It doesn’t do any good. I could apologize for not being the best boyfriend, but it didn’t matter. I could apologize for being a shitty roommate, maybe a friend, but you would still have made your choices.”

Doyoung played with the ring on his finger. He looked down at the frame in his hands, at the sweet girl looking back at him. “I owe you transparency.”

Jaehyun waited a long time for Doyoung to speak again. He was patient and channeling maturity. All he wanted to do, really, was go back inside and go back to sleep. Still, he waited and looked at Doyoung. When Doyoung didn’t speak fast enough, Jaehyun had to speak his mind. If he didn't, it would bother him too much.

“You’re dating her, yes?”

“Yes.” Doyoung said.

“In love?”

“Yes.”

“For a long time?”

“Yes.”

“Do you feel bad about it?”

“About loving her? No.” Doyoung said. “About hurting you? Yes. I did consider us some type of friends.”

“Not the type that doesn’t steal his boy's girlfriend, huh?”

The dig might have hurt Doyoung but Jaehyun couldn’t tell. Doyoung stood up, deciding that he’d had enough of the conversation. Jaehyun followed, rising to his feet in a way that desperately made him want to appear calm and cool.

“I’ll make this quick, since I have to go.” Doyoung said. “I don’t want to lose you in my life, Jaehyun.”

“Fuck you.” Jaehyun said, the words slipping out.

Doyoung’s lips parted. “I deserve that.”

“And her? Does she want to lose me?”

“I can’t speak for her, but no, she doesn’t.”

“Fuck right off.” Jaehyun opened his screen door. “A timeline where my girlfriend cheats on me with my roommate and they come back because they don’t want to lose me? Unbelievable.”

“Believe it.” Doyoung said.” Because it’s true. She won’t admit it, but there is something codependent about you two. About me, as well. Sometimes I feel like life isn’t the same without you in it. Actually, I know it’s not.”

Jaehyun shook his head as Doyoung turned to go. “I didn’t expect this. I wasn't prepared.”

Doyoung threw his hands in the air. “Me neither. I’ve learned not to expect anything anymore. Life is fucked. I'm trying my best to unfuck myself.”

Doyoung walked down the steps and back towards the car. Jaehyun watched him go, pausing way too long before going inside of the house and closing the door behind him.

#doyoung #kim doyoung #nct #nct doyoung #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct 127 #nct fanfiction #jaehyun fanfic #doyoung fanfic #doyoung smut #jaehyun smut #jaehyun fluff #doyoung fluff

[soulmate-game]

Part 2: The same prompt, but Siblings this time

Tim paused the video on his computer, the red figure on it in mid-leap off of a building. Be rewound the video, played it, paused again at the same time stamp.

No, his eyes were not deceiving him. The video was not doctored.

So what the hell was going on?

“Hey Timmie, find anything on that Paris situation Bruce asked you to look into?” Dick’s voice made Tim startle, nearly spilling his coffee all over the keyboard and possibly deleting his hard-earned research. Rescuing his lifeblood from certain doom, he hugged his mug to his chest and glared at his older brother for a second. Dick was not in the least bothered, used to this sort of reaction from the younger detective. Dick just grinned, leaning on the back of Tim’s chair and looking up at the images on the large computer screen above them. He whistled lowly, impressed. “You’ve made a lot of progress, nice! Anything you wanna share with me before the debrief tonight?”

Tim clenched and unclenched his jaw, weighing his options. Dick waited patiently, knowing that sometimes Tim needed a minute to sort through his rapid-forming thoughts. Finally Tim sighed, setting down his mug grimly.

“Actually, yes,” he admitted. Tim’s tense tone immediately made Dick stiffen, straightening up. His eyebrows pulled down, and he returned his gaze to the computer.

“Okay, that’s your serious voice. What is it?”

“I… need your confirmation with something,” Tim turned around and looked straight at Dick. And he hesitated again, because certain… past interactions with his eldest brother once again flashed through his head. The entire Bruce-is-alive and being threatened with Arkham interaction, to be specific. But Tim needed to know the truth, it was his fatal flaw he supposed. He couldn’t back away in fear of how Dick might react.

“Ohhhhkay?” Dick just grew more and more concerned the longer that Tim took to actually speak.

“So, just to recap. There are only four people in history who have been able to do a quadruple somersault, right?” Tim asked, knowing full well the answer. Dick, predictably, shifted and grew even more on alert at the inquiry. He knew that couldn’t mean anything good. His jaw clenched, and his hands formed tight fists. But Dick also remembered the Bruce incident with Tim all that time ago, and he didn’t want to repeat his mistakes. So he forced himself to take a deep breath, and shake himself away from jumping to conclusions.

“Yeah,” Dick nodded. “Me, my parents, and my sister,” he confirmed rigidly. Tim nodded, and then rewound the video on the screen again, nodding to show that Dick should focus on it.

“Okay. But watch this,” Tim suggested, starting the video again. Dick watched as the red and black-spotted heroine of Paris, Ladybug, zipped through the air and around buildings with her yo-yo. He watched as she let go, at a height that even a normal person could manage, and executed four perfect somersaults in mid-air before landing nimbly on the ground. Tim paused the video again, his eyes never leaving Dick’s tense face.

“It isn’t doctored,” Tim said, filling the silence and preemptively answering the questions he knew he would get. “I checked. Magic is involved, but Constantine and Zatanna both confirmed it would have no hold over basic physical abilities like flexibility or… gymnastics. Only specifically combat styles used by past Ladybugs can be transferred magically to the next Ladybug, not this.”

“Tim,” Dick’s voice was terrifyingly blank. “What are you suggesting?”

“Nothing yet,” Tim was quick to hold up his hands in surrender. “I’m still doing research. It’s possible, though extremely unlikely, that she managed to teach herself how to do that. You tell me, Dick, how likely is it?”

Dick swallowed, not wanting to say it but knowing he had to look at the facts. “... At her age? Next to impossible,” he admitted. “She could learn it, theoretically, as young as seven or eight, but only if someone who knew what they were doing taught her since she was about three.”

Tim nodded again. He knew those numbers, he knew where they came from.

“Then— and this is only a theory right now— we have what I think is the more plausible scenario,” Tim swallowed. This was the hard part. “Your sister was kidnapped after your parent’s death, but the body that was found wasn’t actually her’s. It wasn’t in a state to be physically identified, so—“

“I know what state it was in, Tim!” Dick snapped, forcing himself to take a few steps back and just breath. Even now, the image of a tiny body burned beyond recognition was burned into the inside of his eyelids, there to taunt him whenever he blinked or slept and let his mind wander in just the wrong direction. She would be… what, Jason’s age, now? She was seven… only seven, when their parents died and she ran off into the Gotham streets in despair. When she was kidnapped, as is what happens in Gotham.

When Dick was presented with a body he could not say WASN’T her’s a week later.

“The DNA…” Dick tried. “They said…”

“I know,” Tim’s voice was carefully soft. “But the records on your family’s DNA were all kept by the circus back then. The Talons had access to those files. It’s very possible they were tampered with. Switched. It wouldn’t be hard for them to burn your sister’s actual medical files and replace them with forged copies that had someone else’s DNA on them. The data of the girl who actually died.”

Dick closed his eyes, shaking his head. He didn’t want to hope, it would hurt too much if Tim was wrong.

Tim had been right about more unlikely things than this, a voice in the back of his head whispered. And yeah, that was true. But Dick was still too scared to hope.

“Finish your research, Tim,” Dick’s voice was strained with suppressed emotion. He couldn’t even look at the younger vigilante as he left the Cave. “Find out who Ladybug’s civilian persona is, and then we’ll talk.”

Tim could only sigh in relief when Dick was gone. That could have gone much worse.

—*—*—*—*—*

A week later, the entire family was gathered. This was the full debrief on the Paris case, rather than the progress update that they had had to do before. Research took longer than Tim had expected, he had years of data to go through after all. But he had come away with exactly what he had been looking for.

After running through the overall situation and where the fight against HawkMoth was at in the present day, Tim licked his lips and took a deep breath. This was it, the Who-Is-Ladybug part.

“I was able to get security footage of her detransformation, just one lucky shot from ten years ago, when this whole thing began,” he prefaced. “She was thirteen years old, and untrained as far as heroism goes, so it stands to reason she didn’t know yet how to be properly careful about transforming. This is that security picture,” he carefully put the enlarged picture up on the Batcomputer, as well as sliding a physical copy onto the table for everyone to pass around.

Dick didn’t even try to grab it, his eyes glued to the computer, expression unreadable. The picture was a little grainy, but most of the girl’s face could be made out. Pigtails, dark black hair that shimmered blue in direct light, blue eyes.

But it was the next picture that Tim pulled up that pushed everything over the edge.

“These are the official pictures of her that I was able to get from Paris records. This first picture is of her at the same age at the security footage, thirteen. The second picture is her now, age twenty-three,” Tim said, before the side-by-side came up on the screen. Tim’s eyes slid over to Dick, who was frozen in his seat, just staring at the images silently. He wasn’t even breathing.

“Dick?” Bruce asked, immediately noticing the behavior. His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

Dick’s next breath came in with a shudder, and he clenched his eyes shut in a futile attempt to stop the tears that came out. He choked out a broken chuckle, shaking his head and giving out a lopsided, watery grin.

“Heh. Another point for Timmy being right,” Dick jokes weakly, rubbing at his eyes.

“What do you mean? Tim?” Bruce turned to the younger of the two insistently. “What’s going on? Who is she?”

“Currently, according to Parisian records, she is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Tim told them. “More specifically, her full name is Marinette Gray Dupain-Cheng. Which I believe is what she chose to change her name to after she was kidnapped sixteen years ago from right outside Haley’s Circus, and illegally transported to France,” Tim clicked another button to bring up a third picture in the side-by-side. It was of someone who was clearly a younger Marinette, but in the very familiar costume of the Flying Graysons, standing right next to a twelve-year old version of Dick. “Because her birth name is Marie Natalia Grayson. Dick’s younger sister, who until now was presumed dead. But I was able to confirm that the medical records back then for Marie were forged, and the information on them could not actually belong to her. The body that was presented as Marie’s… was a red herring to hide that Marie was no longer in America at all.”

Dick’s sob-laugh drew everyone’s attention back to the first Robin, who was now silently, openly, crying. Nobody really knew how to deal with that, and the room descended into awkward silence as Dick tried to regain his composure a little.

“Marinette… Gray,” he whispered, chuckling again and shaking his head as he wiped at his cheeks. “That idiot… her ability with subtlety hasn’t gotten any better, that’s for sure,” he was smiling now, still staring at the pictures of Marinette on the screen. Of his beautiful little sister, all grown up and not buried six feet under like he had thought for far too long.

Because this was different from Hope. This was certainty. The face, the far too on-the-nose name, the somersaults, Dick had even noticed it in the way she swung on her yo-yo. The body memory from years of Trapeze, those little quirks he recognized as belonging to his sister that he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. But now, all together, he could admit to himself that it was her. It was really her.

Could it be a clone? Maybe. Maybe. But that was why Dick snuck out to France the very next day, informing absolutely nobody.

Because he had a test that only the real Marie would be able to pass.

—*—*—*—*—*

"How did you- No, nevermind, I don't want to know, plausible deniability and all that,” the deep, unfamiliar male voice made Marinette squeak in shock, nearly dropping the phone in her hands. She leaned so far to her right that she almost fell over, but her nearly perfect balance (that only failed her when she was nervous or self conscious) kept her upright.

Her eyes darted down to her phone screen, where an app that Max had helped her create was opened. It utilized at least five hundred little fly-shaped drones that Markov managed and kept track of to scan the city for corrupted butterflies and recognize the level of stress or other negative emotions that civilians were experiencing. It cut down severely on patrol time that the crew had to do, making it easier for them to balance their hero and civilian lives and also allowed for them to arrive at the scene of Akuma attacks twice as fast as before— along with helping with the original purpose of catching evidence to use against Hawkmoth, of course.

Marinette straightened her back, smiling sheepishly and closing out the app. She had just been making a routine check, it had only been open for a minute. How had he managed to sneak up on her in that time? Only chat could do that anymore.

That is, until Marinette turned around the rest of the way and got a good look at the man. Her eyes widened— what was Nightwing, a vigilante from Gotham, doing there?

“I don’t see what plausible deniability has to do with anything,” she replied in easy, unaccented English. She might not speak it often, but she did stay in practice. Even now a lot of her fashion notes and thoughts were in either English or Romani. “It’s just a game app that my friend created,” the practiced lie flew easily past her lips, and she was able to even smile confidently and begin to happily ramble about Max’s (public) achievements like she would in any normal situation. “It is still in the test phase of course, but it uses virtual reality and mapping technology to create a treasure hunt sort of adventure game that people can do as they walk around. Like Pokémon go, but with real-time footage of the city— with people not included besides the game characters of course— and it rewards caution as well as keeping active,” she explained their cover story for the app happily. But Nightwing only smiled easily at her with his arms crossed, clearly not believing a single word.

“Ah— but that probably isn’t interesting,” Marinette purposely stuttered, turning her face into one of (surprisingly genuine) confusion as she looked at the vigilante. “What are you here for anyway, Monsieur? This doesn’t seem like—“

“I have a riddle that a friend of mine told me to ask you,” he interrupted, instantly putting Marinette on guard. She took a step back, eyebrows pulling down at the odd request. But still, she chuckled nervously and shrugged. She had to maintain appearances after all.

“Uh, sure..? Riddles are fun, in the right circumstances I guess.”

Nightwing beamed happily, nearly blinding the poor girl. “Awesome!” His next words came out in fluent Romani though: “If a Hummingbird ever gets lost, what kind of animal will track it down?”

Marinette’s mouth went dry, her shoulders dropping. Her mouth opened and closed, the shock of the question leaving her unable to even pretend she didn’t understand exactly what was said. Nightwing’s gaze grew more intense, yet his smile got impossibly soft.

Marinette swallowed thickly, and she took a deep breath before responding in Romani: “You shouldn’t— only one person—“

“That doesn’t answer the riddle, ma’am.”

Marinette’s confusion turned into a harsh glare. “He would never tell someone else to ask me that. What are you trying to play at, Nightwing?” She hissed harshly, still in her native language.

“Listen, Marinette,” Nightwing held up both hands to try to calm her down. It did the opposite, making her take another step back. “Batman and the rest of our team has been looking into the Hawkmoth security—“ Marinette cursed, clearly seeing where this was going. “— We believe he found out who Ladybug is. But, we also found signs that your real name is—“

“Shut up!” She yelled in English, fists clenched tightly. Luckily she had gone into an alleyway to check her phone, or else they would be attracting attention by then. Her eyes sparked with anger. “You don’t get to use that name. And if you’re so smart,” Marinette tucked her phone into her purse and scaled the wall next to her nimbly, perching on the roof as Nightwing cursed and began to follow her. “Then try to predict my moves, birdy.”

It only took a few minutes and crossed rooftops for Marinette to call on her transformation and pick up speed. She knew by then that Nightwing, and probably the other Bats too, already found her out. Not ideal, but manageable. Now she wanted to show him why he shouldn’t come into her territory and dig into her past and think he could get away with it.

Somewhere during the chase, more Bats appeared one by one. Judging by what Ladybug was able to overhear, they had come as soon as they realized where Nightwing had snuck off to.

That made Marinette pause from where she hid behind a sloped roof, in the middle of a call to her own teammates. Nightwing hadn’t come on his team’s orders?

Why the hell had he come, then?

She shook thought thoughts away, focusing on her plan. Paris was her city, and she would make sure the Bats learned their lesson when it came to sticking their nose in Parisian business.

“Bug?” The soft, concerned call came from her yo-yo and pulled her from her contemplating. Max, in full Pegasus attire, was frowning at her in worry on the small screen. She just shook her head at him.

“I’m fine, Peg. Just don’t like how this feels like Gotham ruining my life again,” she remarked sourly. “But I’m fine. Start plan We’re Not Kids.”

Max nodded, but rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like; “even though we made this plan when we actually were kids…”

A portal opened in the air a few seconds later, releasing Honeybee in all her gold and black glory. The winged hero zipped through the air, immediately putting team Miraculous at an advantage since team Bat didn’t want to actually harm them.

It took a glorious five seconds for Honeybee to paralyze them all before Tortoise dropped out from another portal and surrounded the temporarily paralyzed vigilantes in a dome shield that kept them in just as easily as it kept everything else out.

One by one, Marinette’s teammates dropped out of more portals until Pegasus himself joined them. Ladybug took that as her que to come out, leaping over her hiding place to land in front of her friends, who had formed a half-circle in front of the trapped dome.

“Vixen,” she called to the fox-themed hero, whose ears twitched before she straightened to attention. “Create an illusion to hide us. The last thing we need are any pictures or anyone asking questions.”

“Got it!” Vixen agreed easily, raising her flute to her lips. A short melody later, and their surroundings warped. To those inside the illusion, it seemed as if the world merely ended off of the rooftop they were on, into only blankness. Outside, that very rooftop appeared empty.

It was then that Chat Noir stepped up to take Ladybug’s side, his acidic green eyes scanning over the Gotham vigilantes trapped inside Tortoise’s protective barrier.

“You can release the paralysis, Honeybee,” his order was noticeably softer than Ladybug’s clear commands. It was obvious that he was the deputy in this situation, the flexibility to Ladybug’s iron leadership. That was when the red clad hero crossed her arm, resuming control of the situation wordlessly. The Gotham heroes briefly glowed gold as Honeybee let their paralysis begin to gradually wear off.

“Paris is my city,” Ladybug’s voice was at a normal volume, but came out with such auditory steel that it was clear she expected to be listened to, or she’d know why. “If I needed or wanted your help, I would have asked for it. Now, if you had come here normally to offer aid, then we might be having a different discussion right now,” her eyes narrowed further. “But you dug into my past. You violated my privacy. And Nightwing, you crossed a line,” she would have continued if the blue and black clad hero didn’t use his sudden ability to move to rip off his mask.

Marinette’s voice died in her throat, and for a while she thought she might be hallucinating. Those eyes, that face— she knew them. She knew them, because she saw them whenever she dared close her eyes. Because the dreams she had, the dreams that made her never want to drag herself out of bed because she wanted to believe those dreams were real so badly, always contained those eyes. And that face, though it had been much younger in her memories.

She stumbled, and only Chat’s presence at her side kept her from toppling right over.

“Bugaboo?” He asked frantically, distraught. She just shook her head dazedly, pushing herself back to her feet and away from her partner.

“I’m fine, Chat. Just…,” she assured her partner, but her eyes never left Nightwing. She licked her lips nervously, before continuing; “... Bluebird,” she whispered, making Nightwing’s eyes widen. Her brother’s eyes. “That’s the answer to the riddle, right?”

Slowly, a wide smile split his face before he began to laugh happily, despite Robin slapping Nightwing’s mask back on his face with a furious grumble.

“Ladybug?” Tortoise asked, stepping up to her other side cautiously. Seeing as they were all adults now, none of them had to worry about time or power limits anymore. “Are you..?”

“Release the shield,” she ordered instead of answering, her eyes clearly damp behind her mask. “I need to strangle my idiotic older brother for scaring the hell out of me.”

That made the rest of her team make their various exclamations of shock, but Chat and Tortoise stayed silent. Chat just put a hand on Ladybug’s shoulder in support, while Tortoise zipped his wide gaze back to Nightwing before sighing and releasing his ability.

“Only you, Bug,” the green clad hero groused playfully. “Only you.”

If Marinette Dupain-Cheng suddenly introduced her long-lost brother to her closest friends and family that same night, nobody voiced the coincidence out loud.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 1: Romance

Part 3: Bio!Parent

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dickinette #platonic dickinette #3-from-1 challenge

[inkweaver22-blr]

Four for four baby! This is perhaps the last of my daily updates as I’ll be busy the next few days. Here’s another little filler chapter but it’s a good one as it’s the first one where we directly see references to other creators’ Monkie Kid works! There’s three references here, two subtle and one explicit. I’ll make sure to have links to each work in the notes at the end of the chapter. Hope you enjoy!

AO3 Link

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Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Four: Childish Behavior

Tang often feels like the only adult surrounded by children. Literally sometimes.

----------

If there was one thing Tang had learned about these timelines he kept jumping between was that they were consistently inconsistent.

The minor details that changed randomly but never really affected the outcome of the events from his original time were still abundant and rarely phased him much anymore.

(Although that one time he had platinum blonde hair had been interesting.)

It was when entirely unique situations arose that the scholar was caught off guard.

New events sprung up every now and then and inserted themselves between the original ones. As with the smaller changes, these new scenarios were unpredictable and varied wildly in scope.

A surprisingly durable MK clone that somehow managed to escape being dispelled, gaining independence, and becoming Macaque’s apprentice.

An ocean demon sinking ships just outside the bay and Sandy getting to go on that water adventure he wanted.

MK’s birth parents trying to reinsert themselves back into his life after seeing his achievements on the news.

(Tang was so incredibly proud of his kid for standing up for himself and refusing their empty platitudes. The pranks that he, Mei, and the Monkey King had pulled on them in retaliation were great stress relievers.)

Since Tang could still do his best to help out in each new event without horrible consequences, it seemed the rule of “No Interference” did not apply to them. He supposed that made sense as he had no way to predict when or if they might occur and thus couldn’t change an outcome he didn’t know about.

He was grateful for that small mercy at least.

Still, with how these cycles seemed to be endless so far, a few of these events would happen over multiple timelines.

Getting de-aged by a mischievous trickster demon or spirit was a strangely common occurrence.

MK seemed to be the most popular target for this particular curse. The brightness of his personality seemed to shine even stronger whenever he was reverted into a child, which simply made Tang love the kid even more.

(He wished he could have helped the Monkey King tear Macaque apart for kidnapping their precious little one in that cycle.)

They all had their own turns of having their biological clocks reversed of course. Mei was a little trouble maker, Pigsy was a shy and timid toddler, and Sandy liked to have things he could break apart. Tang couldn’t clearly remember the times he had been de-aged but was pleased when an exhausted Mei and Mk had said he was the easiest of the adults-turned-kids to take care of.

Then there was the Monkey King.

Having to corral a rambunctious young monkey with the strength to crush boulders and the ability to duplicate or shapeshift was not easy.

(He still had no idea how MK had managed to do it alone once.)

With the amount of times they had all been subjected to this specific curse, Tang only really had himself to blame for not seeing it coming.

Tang poured over the scroll in front of him, trying to find the counter for this timeline’s version of the curse. Behind him, Mei distracted a de-aged Red Son, or Red Boy as that’s what the small fire demon was calling himself.

Getting kidnapped by a somewhat feral child with the ability to freely toss around the True Fire of Samadhi hadn’t been the most pleasant start to his day. While being mistaken as the monk Tang Sanzang was a little flattering, the threat of being roasted over the sacred blume flames and eaten had quickly dampened those feelings.

Luckily the young demon had fallen asleep, the fires dissipating as he lost consciousness. If only Tang knew how to cast the Monkey King’s fire ward...

“Ahem.”

Tang glanced up and paled at the sight of a displeased looking Demon Bull King.

“Little thief,” the demon addressed an equally freaked-out MK. “I believe you have something of mine.”

“Father! You’re here,” Red Boy called out as he jumped from Mei’s arms. “I have wonderful news! I’ve found a husband!” He quickly ran over to a petrified MK and leaned against him like he was presenting some great treasure. “Look! Look! Isn’t he pretty?”

Tang had almost forgotten about that particular detail. If they got out of this alive he was never going to let MK live this down for the rest of the cycle. Prerogative of being a dad and all.

“What do you think father,” Red Boy continued, ignoring MK’s desperate plea for him to stop. “I can marry him, right?”

DBK’s expression was frankly unimpressed as he stared down into the hopeful one Red Boy wore. Tang had a bad feeling about what was going to happen and slowly made his way around the room to hide behind MK and Mei who were also backing away.

“No.”

Tang winced a bit at the bluntness of the answer and braced himself for the explosion that was sure to follow.

“What? But… why? WHY NOT?!”

The genuine hurt and confusion in the young demon’s voice would have made Tang feel a bit sympathetic, if Red Boy hadn’t tried to eat him of course.

“Because I said so,” DBK growled as he knelt to be closer to his de-aged son. “Now, enough of this. Time to stop being a child.”

Tang frowned. That was... not how to calmly explain to one’s child about why you were refusing their request. Not if you wanted to avoid a full-on meltdown. He should know, having to take care of a young MK multiple times.

Looking into the Demon Bull King’s scowling visage, he wasn’t sure if the older demon simply didn’t know how, or just didn’t care.

“That’s… NOT FAIR!” Red Boy’s disbelief predictably turned into anger as his hair once again burst into blue flames.

“THAT’S NOT FAIR! I am not a child!” The True Fire of Samadhi burst out around the boy, seeming to startle DBK who took a step back. Tang was just thankful that it wasn’t aimed at him this time.

“I… I’m not-” Red Boy’s anger quickly melted away, as did the fire around him. The young demon sniffed a few times before dropping onto the ground and beginning to cry.

Loudly.

“You’re recording this, right?” MK whispered to Mei.

“Obviously.”

Tang sighed at their antics and looked over at DBK. The demon still looked angry but the scholar could see the uncertainty in his eyes. He seemed completely out of his depth and unsure on what to do.

Tang took a steadying breath before mustering his courage and stepping out from behind MK. If Demon Bull King didn’t know how to act like a good father then perhaps he could show him.

If he survived this he was going to need a vacation to fight back against the grey hairs this was going to give him.

The other adults all looked at him as if he had sprouted another head as he approached the sobbing child and knelt next to him.

“Red Boy?”

“H-huh?” The young demon looked up in confusion at being addressed.

“I know that right now everything seems pretty unfair and that can be upsetting,” Tang soothed, keeping his voice steady and reassuring. “But I promise you that your father has a good reason for not letting you marry MK. Would it help if he were to calmly explain that reason without getting angry at you?” He aimed that last sentence more at DBK than Red Boy, who’s sobs had slowed.

“M-maybe…” the young demon finally admitted.

Tang turned to stare expectantly at the Demon Bull King. The demon glared down at the scholar.

“Why are you treating him like a child?”

The harshness of his tone made Red Boy start to tear up again. Tang glared right back at DBK.

“Because right now, until we can reverse this, he is a child,” the scholar snapped, his fear replaced with righteous anger. “And like every child, he deserves to be treated with kindness and respect. He deserves to be comforted by a parent whom he obviously adores and be told that it’s okay to cry. He deserves to feel safe and loved.”

The room was silent save for the hiccups and sniffles from Red Boy as they all stared at Tang. DBK’s mouth hung open as he gazed incredulously down at the human, seemingly struck speechless.

“F-father?”

The small and unsure voice of Red Boy snapped the Demon Bull King out of his thoughts, and something seemed to loosen within him.

Tang stood and retreated back to MK and Mei to give the demon some privacy as he knelt next to his son and began speaking in a hushed tone with him.

“What the hell Mr. Tang,” MK hissed into his ear as he stared wide eyed at the pair of demons on the ground.

“Language MK,” Tang hissed right back before leaning over to Mei. “I know you aren’t recording two incredibly powerful demons having a moment of vulnerability who would stop at nothing to destroy us if they discovered the existence of such a video, right?”

“Eep!” Mei nearly dropped her phone as she rushed to stop her recording and then delete the last few minutes of the resulting video.

There were a few minutes of tense silence as the three humans did their best to pretend that there weren’t two demons having an emotional moment together just a few feet away. They gave a sigh of relief when Red Boy launched himself at his father, wrapping his arms around his neck. DBK seemed panicked at first before slowly wrapping his own arms around the young demon.

Tang adjusted his glasses and gave a nervous smile to the Demon Bull King who was scrutinizing him like a particularly confusing puzzle.

At least he didn’t seem angry any more.

Perhaps they would escape this fiasco unscathed after all.

----------

I was not expecting this chapter to turn into another Dad Tang story. It just kind of happened that way. So onto the references!

First is Durability by TaintTheUnstoppable which is beginning to shape up into something really interesting.

Second is Little One by @its-kall-the-clown which is just a huge fluff fest capped off with some nice angst. Highly recommended.

Finally we have the Red Boy comic by @purble-turble! Now obviously the Tang in their comic probably won’t do what this one did, by this Tang is too much of a Dad to let a little kid cry for too long.

Next chapter won’t be up until sometime next week! See ya then!

#Ink Writes #Monkie Kid #Scattered Cicadas #Tang #Tang Monkie Kid #MK #Mei #Red Son #Red Boy #Demon Bull King #DBK #Lego Monkie Kid #Durability #TaintTheUnstoppable #Little One #KALL #purble-turble #its-kall-the-clown

[herstarburststories]

He didn’t make it to 42

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: it’s Dean’s birthday, you go to visit him with some news and things that need to be said.

A/N: Happy bday, De.

Warnings: so much angst, mentions of sex, hopeful/happy ending (?)

Dean’s dead. It’s Dean’s birthday and he’s dead. You can’t argue much.

Sam denied the demon blood inside him, and that didn’t stop its evil nature from growing and gasping for his fresh air to the point he was almost shocked alive. Dean denied his dad’s destructive methods’ results for the longest time, and that didn’t stop the cicatrixes in every emotion he had ever shown. You denied the absence of Dean and that didn’t stop the bricks cracking in your soul. There’s only so far you can go with your eyes closed.

So here you are. Standing in front of an empty grave. You are bigger than the dull tombstone, yet you can’t help but not to feel tall, at all. How can you even start to talk? Talking to Dean used to be easy even when it got hard and now you’re feeling like a lost kid in a supermarket. Your snide thinking spells out his name with venom, saying it isn’t easy for you to open your barmy mouth and spill out contrarian shit because this isn’t Dean, just another meaningless symbolism that Sam promises that will help. The real Dean died almost a year ago, he was burned in a hunter’s funeral, the flames dancing over his body as the smell of burnt meat invaded your nostrils. Whenever you try to remember his fragrance, that manly aroma which you loved to scent each morning, all your brain can come up with is the odor of his skin and guts burning. The smell lingers like bad perfume, it doesn’t matter how many times you wash yourself with his soap-- that only broke your heart worse.

But today is Dean’s birthday. He deserves a visit, even if it’s not him. Then you go and attempt to deal with the desolation, push it away just a little, and pick up something from the enormous pile of things you wish to tell Dean. You glance at the cold tombstone: Dean Winchester. 1979 - 2020. Beloved son, big brother, and husband. Hunter. A hero. Simple definitions that can never make it up for who he was and what he meant. You purse your lips and cough a little, a gentle wind touches your cheek so tenderly. If you were still a believer, you’d think this is some sort of sign, Dean’s presence or some other pious hoax. All you do now is to remain in quietude, a deep breath. Ultimately, your voice comes:

‘’You didn’t make it to forty two, huh?’’ You scoff humorless, reminiscing to the multiple days that Dean said he wouldn’t go past 35. He did live each year like it was the last--- you aren’t sure if it's such a good thing. If you carry on like your days are outnumbered, you are silently entertaining yourself until death's knock on your door. ‘’I always hated when you were right. Let’s be honest, you had the words of a pessimist and the wants of an optimist. Still, if you were to be right about something, it would be about a bad situation. A nest with too many vampires, how crappy the motel’s bedroom would be, or how that third glass of wine would make me tipsy. So yeah, I always hated when you were right. And look at you now! You aren’t right, you aren’t wrong. You are dead! And I’m the crazy girl screaming at an empty tombstone.’’

You let out a laugh empty of joy. That’s how a hunter’s life is: you die and people stop talking about you because it’s too sad or too long gone to hold any pity, meanwhile the ones who recall about you go loud with all the spirits in their heads. You put your hand in the pockets of the heavy leather jacket that once belonged to a green eyed man who would be turning 42 today, some strange force causing you to speak again.

‘’Wow.’’ You shake your head to the blue way you paint the scene until you notice that you never greeted him. ‘’Hey.’’ The simple word adds a comical insult to injury. ‘’Guess the dead don’t care about manners, huh?’’ You arch your eyebrows with a grin that demonstrates anything but happiness. ‘’Miracle died. Sam digged a hole next to the bunker and buried him there. He isn’t the same since you died, you know? Not the deceased dog-- Well, he wasn’t the same either. Always whining and scratching your door like a fucking cat, and sniffing your old boots. He made me company in your bed and I whined as much as he did when you didn’t come back home that day. He stood by the door most days, waiting for you to appear. I can’t judge him, I did the same.’’ You shrug, not caring about how risible that confession may look. It's true. You became as irrational as a loyal dog at some point in this sorrow. ‘’And Sam, your baby brother… I think he died with you right there, Dean. He didn’t try to bring you back as he promised, but I shouted and screamed so much. I said I would burn the bunker and throw Baby over a cliff if he didn’t-- if he didn’t let me try. I lived up to the mad woman title.’’

You are crestfallen, pacing on top of where the eldest Winchester - Sam’s brand new nomination -  supposedly was buried. You know your boots barely touch an infected land, there's no deceased man under your steps. The dead thing is in you.

‘’I spent days dragging your body everywhere and nowhere, anywhere I could catch a crumb of relief in hope to bring you back. But I couldn’t. Jack could, but that ungrateful idiot doesn’t wanna follow his grandpa steps and get too attached to mere humans, the creation or whatever. As if we are just some skin and bone to him, as if you are just another human.’’

You sit down on the tombstone, some tender solace in being close to a thing that's supposed to represent him, like sleeping hugged to a pillow or waking up to a photograph of his. Your nails sink against the gelid concrete at the thought of screaming into the sky for the new God that seemed as deaf as the last one. His calm answer to your burning pain. How he dared to tell you he knew what he was doing— as if he was the original lord and not a three years old. You can't make him do it, so you hold on the fury of some overthrown nation.

‘’Anyway, I couldn’t bring you back. Your body, well, you know how human anatomy works. Your body started to smell like death. We tried to stop with human and magic ways, and it wouldn’t work because you were dead. You should’ve seen the doctor’s face when we got you in that fancy hospital tha night. I think we traumatized the doctor with so much violence and trauma. She didn’t even give us a false hope or anything, you know? She just asked about organ donation of what was left. She just wanted to take every little thing out of you, as if you were just another accident on a Tuesday night.’’ Your shake your head as the memories and your points start to mix, it's hard to discern things and keep a straight line when you have an open wound in your insides. ‘’Well, they couldn’t bring you back to life, and neither could Rowena or whatever I looked for. Don’t be mad because I tried, Winchester. You know I’m too stubborn for my own good. I had to try.’’ you refuse to apologize, yet adds the playful words in his eulogy. ‘’But then your body started to stink and God, how could I continue to be so violent to your corpse? That was when I decided to listen to you for the first time and to Sam, so I let you go. I hate you for asking that.’’ What an ambiguous, contradictory truth to bare. You are glimpses of a person for months because of Dean Winchester, still have the energy to argue his selfless logic, just to love him even more. He's got your devotion, but man you can hate him sometimes. ‘’I hate you for going on that stupid hunt. I hate you for being dead, you giant idiot that I love so much.’’ You can't bring your mouth to say loved. "I was always telling you to let the past go and now I’m in love with a dead thing. What a comic way to end our history. I told you that Miracle died, right? I don’t know if dogs go to heaven, but I hope he’s in there with you. I wonder what your heaven is like. I bet it has Whiskey.''

Your dry chuckle makes your notice the tears in your eyes, glistening your orbs as they go like a waterfall to be absorbed by the thirsty land after leaving your cheeks.

"Sam and I-- We tried to make some sense out of this cruelty, but we can’t. You are dead and I can’t seem to put it past me. I still sleep in your bed, and I can still taste your body burning on the roof of my mouth in the quiet nights. I cried this morning because someone asked for a burger, can you believe that? It was so stupid since I used to shake my head and argue with you about cholesterol. Suddenly I was crying at lunch in a restaurant because some stupid kid asked for a burger with extra bacon. They sang Happy birthday to this dumbass child, and I interrupted with my awful crying, and wished that you were celebrating your birthday and not that kid. I guess you could say I wish death upon an innocent child with a problematic eating routine.’’ That was a whole new level of low, as if you are the one wrapped with the sentiment of laying six feet under.

‘’Everyone tells you about how grief is singular and particular with similar emotions that bring people who went through this together. They even have that crap stages thing and all that. You know what they don’t tell you?’’ Your mouth shuts for a moment, like you are waiting some response. You nod as if whatever you were expecting is handed to you. ‘’Grief can be fucking ridiculous. Who cries because of a burger full of oil and cardiac diseases? Who cries because they found a grocery store recipe under her dead boyfriend’s bed? Who falls on the ground screaming in the middle of the mall because they saw a flannel? Who? Those things are so stupid.’’ You smile like there's no tomorrow and the laugh leaving your lips is a treacherous tone. Perhaps you just aren't build up to express joy anymore. ‘’You see it in the movies and in the books and you think, you know, you think to yourself that grieving is being sad on special dates and randomly remembering the loved ones because of some screaming memory, like a flannel or their perfume. Thing is, it’s not just that. All your body seems so small, so tight for all the ache and agony inside it. Your senses go wild, you are not just one person in one place. You’re just the pain everywhere, like being pulled apart and you beg to jump in the fucking grave with them. At least you would be together, at least you would feel like one person and not suffering edges of a broken earthy thing. And--And you start remembering things you didn’t even know you had mesmerized. I look at the ceiling and remember you saying you’d paint it someday. I look at the kitchen and remember me screaming at you for giving Miracle the rest of the food. I smell Sam’s clothes and started crying because hey, they don’t smell like alcohol. You don’t iron them while drinking anymore, so of course they don’t smell like cheap beer.’’ You are chuckling through the tears and it only makes it more monstrous. ‘’Everything is you now that you are gone. Every man has something similar to you, every garden is green as your eyes, and each step sounds like you are coming home. They didn’t prepare me, not for this.’’ You said breathless. A soft single follows. The knife cuts both ways; the empty breeze and the words hurt. Where's the middle term? Where's the limbo? Where's the only safe place for you to rest your weary head?

Out of nowhere, you blurt out, ‘’I can’t masturbate,’’ I know it’s something stupid and even selfish to say, but I think you’d like to know. I can’t masturbate. That’s a part of the whole losing someone process that people are too ashamed to discuss, or maybe they don’t have the urge to be touched anymore because after someone you love dies, after someone-- the hands who touched are dead and cold, you become a haunted object. That’s how I feel most days, like I’m a haunted house because you touched me and now you’re dead and some days I believe I am too.’’ You look around the places. It's beautiful. It's lonely. It has trees and flowers and green. Not as green as Dean's eyes, but it doesn't matter anymore. He doesn't even have eyes at this point. ‘’Well, I can’t masturbate. I can’t touch myself. And I can’t ask someone else either. I tried and ended up punching the guy, Dean. I swear. I panicked when he was between my legs and just punched his nose. You’d have liked it, you were always the jealous kind. I won’t admit that, but I thought it was kinda hot. Especially when you got possessive in sex.’’ A dirty grin appeared on your lips, the echoes of luxury lasting in your eyes for a brief moment. ‘’I don’t think I can be cared for anymore, honestly. Sam tried to hug me when Miracle died and I… It was like I wasn't there. I got frozen in time, and I live in my sleep. In my nightmares you are alive. I  dream about the day you died every week and I used to wake up screaming, but now those nightmares are the only proof you were alive now that you’re as dead as the police report says this time. It was the most painful, calamitous moment for you and I swear it was a nightmare for me, but then I realized that at least I had you there, egoistical or not, I made my nightmare into a dream.’’ You aren't sure which opinion Dean would have on that. Would he understand? Would he shake his head? You wish you can ask him just this one more thing, just beg him to write it down for you on how to be without him here.

You raise on your feet, glaring at the name craved in the concrete. The tears go by still, although they're as usual as the blood in glir veins at this point. ‘’Death is so silly. What it takes, anyway?" Each word conquers more inches of pure wrath. ''People die because they stumbled on their own feet and hit their head somewhere, or they drove their car too close and too fast to the cliff, or because they were giving birth, or because they dated the wrong person, or because they were hunting a fucking vampire and got impaled. What are the chances? How stupid, and idiotic is death? Always creeping and waiting to bite and chew a piece of you-- Taking every scrap of you from me like that’s its right.’’ You are screaming, starting to kick and punch the tombstone with any piece of straight you have. Your limbs hurt and the blood is visible, but you keep going. ‘’YOUR STUPID DOG DIED, DEAN! AND YOU DIED! AND I DIED! SAMMY DIED! YEAH, IS SAID SAMMY! GO AHEAD, TELL ME ONLY YOU CAN CALL HIM THAT.’’ Another punch, your knuckles are ripped. Another kick, your boot as a hole. ‘’DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.’’ Kick. ‘’SAMMY, SAMMY, SAMMY!’’ A punch to each name. Anything to get a reaction, to get comfort. Anything. ‘’YOU CAN’T BECAUSE YOU ARE DEAD.’’ Gasping for something you don't need anymore, sweet oxygen, your eyes are on the tombstone again. And the definitions. And the trees. Your body is sore and aching. It is the kind and coercion no person wants which you needed; the freedom of feeling outside the exact pain that was inside. ‘’You can’t because you are dead. I’ve been playing some sick games in my mind, you know? Sam stopped hunting and had his closure. He was always better at letting go than you and I, but he’s still hurting. I never saw him hurting so much. I think he knows you won’t come back this time, how could you make us promise something like that?  Well, my twisted game is a bunch of misleading what ifs. What if you hadn’t gone after John? What if you hadn’t gone on that last hunt? What if you had stayed with Lisa? At first I didn’t like her much. Jealous, I admit that. But she grew on me. She gave you something I couldn’t back then and I’ll always be thankful for that. And even though it would rip me apart, I’d rather you to die at sixth after living your suburban dream with her. Have another kid besides Ben, maybe a girl this time, and just have that apple pie life. You and Sam would live close and your kids would always play. They’d be as close as brothers. Maybe I’d get a guy and bring my own kids and we could’ve a barbecue and everyone would be happy. But we don’t get soft epilogues here. It ends how it starts, right? Bloody and desperate. I thought maybe, maybe Lisa could understand what’s going through my head now. I drove to her new address and parked close to her house. I must have spent hours there, thinking if I should come in or not, If she somehow remembered after Castiel died or if I could make her brain work again if I told her the truth. But then I just drove back home and fell asleep wrapped in that stupid lumberjack flannel of yours. The one I always mocked, yeah? She may understand me, but I know you wouldn’t want that. You want her, you want me and Sam to be happy. I don’t know if I can do that, Dean. It’s like myt brittle soul shrewd and my body is just waiting to collapse.’’ You signed, overwhelmed by the battle without an anthem. The victory with no triumph. Is it still a win when you don't have someone to come home too? ‘’Your dog died, it’s the first birthday you didn’t live to see, and I bought all the things you told Mrs Butters you wanted for your birthday because it’s your birthday. I just don’t know how to celebrate it with you dead. People stop counting after they die, right? They just say he’d have been 42 or he died at 41. They give melancholy smiles when they wake up and check the day on their phones and a woe atmosphere swallows them for the rest of the day. Then they get better the next day. I think everyday is your birthday.’’ You attempt to wipe away your tears, which only causes your pulsating hand to stain your face red. ‘’Dean, for the first time, what died stayed dead! Congrats.’’ Once again, a hysterical laugh. ‘’I wish but no. What died didn’t stay dead, you are alive, so alive in my head. I swear you are there some days. I wake and watch the door, so sure you’ll come back. Sam says I’m living in delusion and I have to wake up and keep going since that's what you would want. That's enough to make him keep going, but it only makes me angry. Everyone we know and some strangers looks at me like I'm a house on fire and no longer a warm home, like I'm a car accident. They think I don't notice but I do.’’ You look at your boots, the whole is rolling out blood like your hands. You feel closer to Dean. How sick.

‘’Help, I’m still right where you left me." You plea, his love lingering like a bruise. ''I think gravity is overwhelming and it keeps me here. Sometimes it’s like I’m one of those dusted books Sam used to read. Or those Bukowski ones that you hid, so we wouldn’t see how smart you’re. You tried so hard to hide your intelligence because you didn’t think you were entitled to it. You saw yourself as the protector and never the valuable one for protection. You, the man who made an EMF out of an old radio, who rebuilt the Impala from the ground multiple times, and who knew patterns better than any detective. The man who showed me I could rely on someone other than myself. The dude with a lopsided grin, tough hands and a heart of gold. I miss you so much. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing all those classic rock songs and Taylor Swift pop hits, while I drove here. I would think you were home, smelling like guts because you wanted to eat before taking a shower after a hunt. I would think that you are in the Deancave, waiting for me to curl up on your lap to watch Scooby Doo or Doctor Sexy MD until we aren’t watching anymore. If I didn’t know better I would think no death could take you from me. There would be no tear us apart in our vows.’’ The only thing that keeps your organism working is that Dean died knowing how much you loved him. You never let this talk for later or never. No tomorrow is promised. That's a nice comfort, maybe that's what will help you to let go in the future. ‘’But yesterday your stupid, skink dog died and I lost the last living thing that I had from you. You know what’s more angerting? I cried and Sam cried and I noticed we were the living things you left behind and all we have is each other. All your closets of backlogged dreams were left for us-- so yeah. Sam is done hunting and he’s met a lovely girl, and they are moving in like in your domestic dreams. I’m taking care of the family business like your other contradictory dream and making sure Sam is safe enough to be normal. Because I have to, we have too. Stupidly enough, I still wait for the day you’ll burst out the door and tell us to hit the road again. I still watch every episode of your dumb tv shows to make sure I’ll know everything that happened when you ask. I still drive around in your car and close my eyes when the street is calm, only picturing you driving as Baby’s engineers go wild but those are my hands on the steering wheel. If I didn't know better, I’d think you are still around. But I know better. I still feel you all around. I love you.’’

Your monologuing ends as astutely as it stated. You get up, press a kiss to your ruined for the next weeks hands and place it on the rock with writings. You turn around and walk back to the car that you parked near, only in case of Dean wanting to see Baby. How knows? You and your clandestine faith. You lick your lip and get in the car.

You swear you the AC/DC cassette wasn't there before, but when you turn on the car and the radio it starts playing. It's the first true smile that comes to your mouth, it's bloodstained and you look like a shameless woman. With that you can deal.

It hurts a bearable hurt for now. You didn't think it was possible. Maybe someday.

The end.

(she takes a little longer to arive in heaven than sammy. his baby brother says that women are most likely to live around six years more than men. it doesn't ease him up, though. dean waited sam for too long, his platonic soulmate. and now he has to wait his romantic one too? the eldest Winchester considers it the best earthly present when the he sense you around, that smell of orange and apples. it's you, he knows before even turning around. he can't wait to love you again. your name rolls off your tongue so naturally, as if you had seen each other just yesterday: ‘’hey, y/n.’’)

But then again, nothing ever really ends, does it?

REBLOG AND COMMENT. Feedback is magic and helps me!

Starburst's footnote: It just didn't feel right to make an author's note on the top. I wanted it all only to be an arrow to the story. So, this is my side note: it's six am and I'm up writing this after inspiration kissed me with a bruise in the middle of the night. Or more like grabbed my throat. Anyway, I had to write and finish this one to post today, even pushing sleep aside. Hey, we are writers, that's what we do! I've been watching the show since I was eleven and I cried like a baby with the finale. This series was just so important and crucial to molde aspects of relationships for me. The song marjorie by Taylor Swift was used here, and so was the line "you got my devotion/ but man, I can hate you sometimes" by Harry Styles. I told you guys I would use it somewhere! A special thanks to @msmarvelouswinchester​ who helped me with her encouraging and opinon. You are the best! And with all of this I wanna say: Happy bday, Dean Winchester!

REBLOG AND COMMENT! Feedback is magic! Especially about this fic, I’d like to know your opinion. Tags in the reblog! Send an ask or dm to get in the taglist.

#dean winchester #dean's birthday #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester's birthday #dean winchester x you #supernatural #spn #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagines #spn reader insert #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester imagines

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Shoutout to all of those beautiful, incredible supportive and awesome people who encouraged me to write this Emeriel (Azriel x Emerie) one shot. I really like this crackship, and I’m hoping we see more of Emerie in the next acotar books.

With this, I’m officially in ghost mode till acosf and for some time after its release (probably a month). My askbox and dm are open for prompts tho! So feel free to send me any writing requests!!

Falling in Shadows

Azriel was lost.

Not lost as in ‘I don’t know the Cauldron where I am’. Not in the physical way lost.

No, Azriel was lost in the emotional way. Lost as in ‘What the Cauldron I am feeling?’

If he was to be honest with himself, he had been feeling like that for quite some time now. Ever since Cassian had asked him to go to that wooden building and spied a certain female through the clothier’s window.

Azriel was usually uncomfortable around other Illyrians. He sometimes forgot he too was one, his hatred for his people in some occasions being so unbearable he found himself a youngling once again, locked in that dark cell, denied the skies.

How could he be an Illyrian, feel like one, when his own people had cast him aside? Had tried to strip him of his heritage?

That was one of the motives he avoided going to Windhaven. But after that day he visited Cassian and Nesta — he was surprised to see how their relationship was going, despite the circumstances that had made Nesta go to Illyria — Azriel found himself looking for reasons to be in Windhaven.

All because of her.

Because of Emerie, the fierce owner of that clothier.

Once he had gotten inside the shop, Azriel had willed his shadows to fade — few were the Illyrians and Fae not afraid of them, afraid of him and his job in the Night Court — and tucked his wings tight. He knew how the Illyrian females were treated. How they were supposed to look down and not talk back when in the presence of a male. He didn’t want any other reason to scary the shop owner.

To his surprise, however, he was met with a different scenario. An Illyrian female who didn’t look down, was not afraid to speak her mind and didn’t cower in his presence.

Emerie didn’t even bat an eyelash at him or his shadows, not even glancing at his scarred hands when he handed her the money — an act he was already used to.

Azriel was in and out of the shop in less then five minutes.

He met her again some time later, having tea with Nesta when came back to Windhaven. They exchanged a few words and he got even more curious about her.

And then, before he had even noticed how, they had become friends.

Azriel would pass by her shop whenever he went to visit Cassian and would chat with Emerie, sometimes joining her and Nesta for tea — Azriel dragged Cassian with him when that happened, a little scared to be beneath the sharpe of gaze of both females by himself.

Not that he told Cassian, or anyone else for that matter, the truth. He’d rather swim naked in one of Windhaven’s deathly cold lakes.

Azriel had female friends, so it was not like he was embarrassed around Emerie because of that. Feyre was his friend, as was Elain — although Feyre seemed to think there was something between him and her sister, they were only on friendly terms. Elain was still processing what had happened to her, being Made and losing everything she had, not to mention Graysen. The man was one of the finest pricks he’d ever met, but love was not rational.

Azriel and Elain understand each other in some level, her being a seer and him a shadowsinger. But nothing more.

And then there was Morrigan. He’d been in love with her. Once. And he knew she didn’t see him like that.

His feelings had faded over time, leaving only respect and brotherly affection towards her. Azriel knew he sometimes overreacted when it came to Eris, but it was not due to a lover’s anger. No, he felt guilty of what Mor had been through, years ago. He was her friend and couldn’t help her when she needed the most.

His love towards Mor may have changed, but it still hurt to see that she was keeping something from him and flirted so shameless in front of him as to keep him away. Whatever it was that she had to say, he’d understand. So he’d wait, until she was ready to talk to him.

When it came to Emerie, however, he felt something. Something different. Something he could not quite place.

Azriel also felt fear.

Fear of what that feeling may represent. Of what Emerie thought of him. He had to keep himself in check around her, least he loose control of his shadows, who always seemed to get agitated whenever they were together.

Sighing, he shook his head to try and rid himself of these thoughts. He could feel an headache coming, and he had to wake up early to met Cassian and the Camp Lords for a meeting regarding the Blood Rite. He needed sleep.

His feet, on the other hand, had other ideais. Before he knew what he was doing, they had taken him on the way to the small craftsman center of the camp, where Emerie’ shop was.

Maybe he could say he had thought of saying a quick hello, see how the things were going with her sells.

“It’s not that late yet. And I didn’t come today to see her. So a late night tea won’t hurt, right?” Azriel thought, trying to calm himself down.

He sent one of his shadows ahead to see if there was any light on the clothier, just in case. If it was off, he’d take it was a sign to leave it alone and go rest.

But when it returned, Azriel felt his blood run cold, and he quickly moved through the shadows to get there faster. And the scene in front of him made his heart stop.

The shop windows were broken, as was the door, and he could see some of the clothes thrown on the floor by the door.

Azriel heard screams.

Heard Emerie screaming.

He entered the shop to find her being restrained by a male, while two others ransacked the place.

Azriel did not fail to notice how the male holding her looked pissed. Maybe due to his bloody nose and black eye.

Azriel smiled internally. His girl would not go down without a fight it seemed.

“And just what do you think you’re doing” he said, announcing his presence.

Four pairs of eyes looked in his direction, and he got smug satisfaction at the clear fear that shined in the males’ eyes.

Specially when they saw Azriel unsheathing Truth Teller and gave free rein to his shadows.

However, in Emerie’s dark brown eyes he only saw relief.

“Close your eyes Em” he said.

And then Azriel exploded.

He had the two males pinned down by his shadows in no time, bounding their wings and squeezing their throats strong enough to leave them breathless.

And a little purple.

But the one that held Emerie... that one he would take his sweet time.

Appearing behind the male — which quickly released Emerie in hope to attempt an escape — Azriel slammed him down in the polished counter.

“What should I do with you” he snarled, bringing Truth Teller dangerously close to the male’s throat, making a thin cut in his skin.

“P-please,” the male whimpered “have mercy”

“Did you show mercy to her? Did you?!” Azriel shouted, pressing the knife harder “I should Clip you. I should Clip all of you and take my sweet time doing it”

He heard the other two males struggling against his shadows, trying to get away again. Azriel only whiled them to tighten their grip, and he swore he heard one start to cry.

“You will never appear here again. You will not bother Emerie any longer” he leaned down to whisper in the male’s ear “You will tell that to your other friends. To anyone who has ever messed with her. And if I hear that you came back — and trust me, I will — I will hunt you down myself”

“Are we clear?” he added, letting his threat sink.

“Y—yes sir” the trembling male managed to gasp through Azriel’s hold on his neck.

“Go” he said, freeing all three, who quickly left the place, running for their lives.

Azriel then turned to find Emerie with her eyes open, staring at him.

He froze. She had seen him. Had seen him act as the High Lord’s spy master. Had seen him being territorial and scary and—

“I think I’ll have to redecorate” was all Emerie said, her voice trembling a little.

Azriel couldn’t believe it. She had been attacked, her shop destroyed and she had time to make a joke.

He shook his head in disbelief and stopped in front of her, holding himself back to not touch her to see if she was hurt anywhere.

“Are you—”

Her knees gave out before he could say anything else, and he quickly caught her in his arms.

“You put your arms around me and I literally felt my kneels buckle, this is so pathetic” she scoffed, looking at the floor.

“Em...”

“I usually can handle it on my own” she shook her head “Nesta taught me some self defense moves. I can’t leave the shop to go for the training ring and I have no desire to be a warrior”

“This...this was the first time that more than one came” she added in a soft whisper.

Azriel felt a calm rage settle in his bones.

“This is not the first time something like this has happened,” he wanted to shake her until she got some sense in that stubborn head of hers “and you didn’t tell anyone about it”

“As I said, I usually can handle it” she snapped back, finally meeting his eyes “I was closing the shop when they appeared. I tried to fight back, but I only managed to punch one before he restrained me. If you hadn’t appeared I—”

She didn’t finish that sentence, bitting her trembling lip to keep herself from crying.

“You are one headstrong and fearless female, you know that?” he said, daring to hold her closer.

“I was scared”

And to Azriel’s surprise she buried her head on his chest, gripping his leathers for her dear life, her body shaking with silent sobs.

“I know Em” he murmured, one hand caressing her hair in comfort.

His shadows closed the door and gathered the clothes on the floor, putting them on the counter.

“I’m going to take you upstairs, okay?” he asked softly, and Emerie just nodded her head.

Gathering her in his arms, Azriel climbed the stairs to the upper part of the shop, where Emerie lived.

He decided to place her on the sofa. He didn’t want to invade her personal space and walk into her bedroom.

He carefully sat on the sofa, adjusting Emerie in his arms so she’d be comfortable. By the looks of it, she wasn’t letting go of him soon.

Not that he was bothered by that.

“Em...it’s okay. You’re safe now” he tenderly raised her head, both hands cupping her cheeks and brushing away her tears.

“Thank you. For arriving when you did” she sniffed, but then reality seemed to fall on her “Why where you around here at this hour?”

Azriel felt the tip of his ears getting hot, and he almost faded back in the shadows.

“I wanted to see you” he mumbled, so low he hoped she had not heard him.

“What was that?” she asked, and by the way she was trying to suppress a grin Azriel could tell she had heard him loud and clear.

“I’m not repeating it” he said, feeling his whole face getting hot

Emerie laughed, and the sound of her laugh was enough to put Azriel at ease.

“I wanted to see you too” she confessed, looking deep into his eyes.

Azriel could swear his heart skipped a beat at her words.

“You did?” he softly asked, afraid this was all a dream and he’d soon wake up.

“Yes” she said, and tenderly took one of his hands on hers, not flinching at the scars on them “I wanted to hear your voice”

She kissed his fingers.

“I wanted to see you trying to come up with topics to talk with me”

She kissed palm.

“I wanted to see your shadows acting all agitated and you trying so hard to control them thinking I’ll be bothered but,” Azriel took a sharp breath when she kissed his wrist “they’re not a bother. I’m not afraid of them. I like them”

Azriel was falling. He was spiralling down into himself, all the way to his shadowed heart.

“You like them?” he asked so quietly, fear lacing his every word.

“I do. They’re part of you Azriel” she interlaced their hands “What is there not to like?”

Azriel felt like crying. He felt like crying because for the first time someone outside of his family had looked at him and actually seen him.

Not a monster who killed and spied and tortured for his High Lord.

Not an Illyrian who was a traitor to his own race.

Not the quiet friend who was satisfied to be in the shadows.

Not a protector doing his duty.

Emerie saw him.

She saw all the good, the bad and the awkward Azriel so desperately tried to conceal.

And she was not afraid.

“Can I hope then?” he dared himself to ask, resting his forehead against hers “Can I hope you feel this? This feeling that I can’t quite place?”

“You can” she answered “Because I hoped you felt the same thing”

Azriel still did not know how to name this feeling between them yet. But he was sure of one thing.

He was dying to know what it was.

And Emerie would help him in every path of this discovery.

•

Emeriel Tags: @julemmaes @angrypotatofairy @illyrianwitchling @moe8 @thewayshedreamed @ko0mbayamylord @rosegoldannie @fourshizzle149 @arin1030 @elide-lochan-salvaterre @the-bookish-deer

Fixed Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arin1030 @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan @allilal @sensitiveillyrian @moe8 @illyrianwitchling13 @silvernesta @bri-loves-sunflowers @queenestarcheron @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan

{I ended up creating an Emeriel tag list, so please let me know if you want to be added in either the Emeriel or my Fixed Tag list}

#sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm fanfic #azriel #emerie #emeriel #azriel x emerie

[thran-duils]

My Turn (PA P.2)

Title: My Turn (Performance Art, Part Two) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Ransom Drysdale. The reader is married to Ransom; a picture of their life and flashback to when they met. If she had been here by her own choice and her own choice alone, things may be better for her. Ransom is devious though and is able to tangle her into his web. Words: 2,651 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Dub-con, dub-con smut, body shaming, coercion, emotional abuse, loveless relationship Author’s Note: This was supposed to be a one shot but here we are.

Part One || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“You are always so much more relaxed when Ransom isn’t here,” Harlan remarked lightly, his fingers tapping on the table lightly.

You looked over your shoulder from the stove at him, caught off guard by the comment. He was sitting there, his gaze prodding. Marta was at the small kitchen table with him as well, looking as uncomfortable as you with the random comment.

When he noticed the startled look on your face, he gave you a gentle smile. “I’m not accusing you, Y/N. No need to be on edge. Just… making an observation.”

Unsure of what to say, you looked away trying to conjure up anything that would not be taken too seriously.

“He can be intense sometimes,” you offered up, stirring the soup in the pot.

Once a month at least, you made a point to visit Harlan on your own – well, now with Oliver. He was sleeping in one of the guest rooms upstairs that still held one of the cribs from when his grandchildren were young. Now, his great-grandson was using it. Fran had taken the baby monitor with her down to the laundry room. She insisted on coddling him as much as she could when you visited. You were cooking dinner as you usually did when you made these visits. You enjoyed Harlan’s company – your grandparents had never been a large part of your life, so it was nice to have one. You cherished his company and his humor. And you enjoyed Marta’s company as well. She was the closest thing you had to a real friend. All the women at the country club were not for you, even though you faked it perfectly whenever you were around them.

‘’Intense’,” Harlan rolled around in his mouth, contemplating on the word choice. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose that is an accurate way to describe it.”

The conversation dropped off from there, silence filling the space. You snuck a look at him and saw he was deep in thought, staring down at his hands.

What an odd thing to say, you thought to yourself.

But Harlan was one to notice something like that.

<><><>

As you walked back from the kitchen with a glass of water, you noticed Harlan was standing in his veranda, overlooking the back yard. Changing course, you walked out of the screen door, catching his attention.

“Anything interesting, birthday boy?” you asked.

“Besides the beautiful sunset?” Harlan asked, smiling and gesturing at the setting sun.

“It is a fine shade of orange,” you commented, coming to stand by him.

He nodded and asked, “How are you enjoying the party so far? And where are my congratulations? I think that’s in order.”

You laughed, “Of course. Congratulations for your 85th birthday. And it is… just beginning. So, so far so good. The cake looks lovely, I saw it in the kitchen. Lemon frosting. Should be tasty. It is one of my favorites.”

“I remembered that,” Harlan said. “You love lemon tarts too. And lemon bars. I am sensing a theme here. We are very much alike in our passion for lemon dessert.”

“Hmm, you’re really going to enjoy part of your gift,” you said, reaching into your pocket for the candies. “I brought these for you.”

He peered into your outstretched hand and let out a throat chortle. You dumped the lemon warheads into his hand, sharing the laugh. Examining them, he said, “I am sure that is what my face will look like when I eat them.”

“Should do it in front of everyone. It’ll look nice in the photos,” you joked.

“I just might,” Harlan said, smiling at you. He slipped them into his pocket and told you, “Thank you, Y/N.” He held out his arm. “Escort me inside?”

You looped arms with him, “Yes, of course.”

<><><>

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ransom snapped, standing in front of Harlan’s desk. Harlan had called him into the study from the party and informed him he was considering changing his will, expressing his unhappiness with the family.

“Does it sound like I’m kidding?” Harlan asked nonchalantly, only a twitch in his face giving away he was annoyed that Ransom had swore at him. “It is what is best for everyone if they do not shape up.”

“So, you’re just going to give your fortune away if everyone doesn’t change to what you want them to be?” Ransom asked, laughing in disbelief.

Harlan shook his head, “No… no, I do not intend to do that. I will leave it to Marta.”

“You’re joking,” Ransom scoffed. “Your Brazilian nurse? Are you insane?”

“No, I’m thinking straight for the first time in a while. And not just Marta. But Oliver too,” Harlan informed him. Ransom straightened at that, his eyes narrowing. Harlan gave him a wry smile, “Now, don’t you go trying to get clever about it either, Ransom. Oliver won’t be able to touch it until he’s 25 years old.” Ransom scoffed again, looking furious. “And to that point as well, Y/N will be in charge of it until then.”

Ransom’s eyes bugged incredulously, and he blurted, “Y/N?” He seemed more offended about this than hearing about Marta.

He shook his head, biting his cheeks. He was supposed to control her, not the other way around.

Stepping towards the desk, he demanded, “Just because she bakes you dinner every once in a while? She gets to have millions of dollars for that?” His voice was rising. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You really have lost your goddamn mind!”

“You do not get to tell me what I am going to do with my will!” Harlan said louder than he intended to.

Leaning forward, Ransom pointed at him threateningly, “I’m warning you—”

“You should be grateful,” Harlan cut him off.

“’Grateful’?” Ransom demanded. “Grateful? What about this should I be grateful about?”

“That your son will be taken care of,” Harlan told him firmly. “I’m only telling you because I do hold a special place for you, Ransom, but you need to do better by her. And consequently, be a father, a real one. Prove to me you love the family you have and grow it with purpose. I don’t plan on sharing this with anyone… they can figure it out after I am gone if things don’t change. You have an opportunity here—"

Ransom barked out a laugh, throwing his hands up. “I can’t with this. Look, when you’ve got your head screwed back on, I’ll be here to talk. Happy fucking birthday.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel, storming to the door. He threw it open, letting it hit the wall on his way out.

<><><>

Meg was cooing at Oliver, smiling as his eyes followed her. You adjusted him in your arms and asked, “Do you want to hold him?”

“Oh, su—”

“Get your shit,” Ransom ordered you, appearing out of nowhere, startling the two of you. “We’re leaving.”

He looked engulfed in fury and you knew better than to argue with him normally but like this was signing a death wish. But it was Harlan’s birthday, and you could not help yourself.

“But the cake and—”

“You don’t need cake, do you?” Ransom spat vehemently.

Heat quickly game to your cheeks and you closed your mouth, sinking into yourself at his insult. He always knew how to cut you the deepest. Meg though was another story.

“What the hell, you asshole—” she started to spit back at him.

“Shut the fuck up, Meg. Don’t you have some communist bullshit to go read about how you’re going to undermine the government?” Ransom snarled and snapped his fingers at you. “Y/N, what did I just tell you? Stop standing there looking stupid. Get Oliver’s shit and let’s go. I’ll be in the car, don’t make me wait.”

He turned on his heel, swiping his coat off the back of the chair by the door.

You swallowed sharply, trying to hold back tears as you made eye contact with Meg for a moment before averting your gaze, humiliated.

“What the fuck is up his ass?” Meg muttered, staring in anger at where he had disappeared.

You managed a shrug as you began walking towards the door where Oliver’s car seat was waiting. She told you she would get him buckled up if you wanted to go say goodbye to everyone. You shook your head, not trusting yourself to not look like a mess, nervous about how Ransom was going to be for the rest of the night.

The car ride home was unpleasant. He was silent but you could tell he was fuming. And he kept stealing angry glances your way and you could not for the life of you figure out what you had done.

When you did get home, he hit the scotch, making a stiff one as soon as he got through the door practically and you made yourself scarce. You planned to steer clear of him as much as you could knowing his bad mood was only going to be exacerbated by the alcohol.

The TV echoed from downstairs, he was not watching it quietly. You swore under your breath, as Oliver babbled softly. He had been sleeping so soundly in the car and had woken up to the loud noise downstairs. It took awhile to get him back to sleep and when he finally did, you laid him down gently and left the room as quiet as you possibly could, closing the door. You waited a few seconds and did not hear him cry out, much to your relief.

Going to the bedroom, you got ready for bed, hoping to fall asleep quickly because Oliver had a habit of waking up around 4:00am.

Just as you had turned off your bedside lamp, you heard a creak. Turning, you saw Ransom’s silhouette was in the doorway, illuminated from the hall light. The TV was still on downstairs and you hoped he was only up here to change and would leave again without unleashing any more beratement on you. You still could not figure out what you had done that had made him so upset with you. There was usually something. You wore the wrong type of dress, cooked something he was not in the mood for, came too quickly…

He stalked into the room coming to your side of the bed and the hope he was going to leave you alone was quickly fading. He reached out and turned on your lamp again, staring down at you. You could see he was drunk; you knew the signs in his eyes.

“Are you coming to bed?” you asked him calmly.

His smile was unkind. “Oh, yes. Dear wife. I am coming to bed.” Just as quickly as it had appeared, his smile fell and he ordered you, “Take that stupid thing off.” You stammered and he asked annoyed, “Am I going to have to rip it off of you?”

Quickly, you pulled the nightgown off, sitting naked on the edge of the bed as he undressed himself, kicking his clothes off to the side. He was already getting hard, to your surprise considering how much he must have imbibed by the smell of his breath. Before he even had to ask, you laid back, your fingers at your sex. You tried to relax as your fingers worked, trying to will yourself to start to get wet.

Ransom’s gripped your thighs and yanked you across the bed towards him. “No, on your hands and knees,” he growled, half tossing you over in a fluid motion.

You did the rest of it for him, shook by his aggressiveness. You mourned prematurely for your pussy, knowing you were going to be sore tomorrow; you just knew sitting was going to be uncomfortable.

Behind you, as your fingers sunk into your sex, you could hear Ransom digging around in your bedside table. You only stalled for a second in your rubbing when you heard the unmistakable sound of one of your vibrators. He slapped your hand away and it fell back to the bed for you to rest your head on as he brought the toy to your clit. You moaned, fingers curling up in the comforter.

The pressure was building, and you begged, “Ransom, please…”

He only responded with a hum of approval and then the vibrator was gone. You had a split second to pout before he slapped your swollen pussy. You jolted, wincing at the sharp sting. His cock slipped in, his hand pressing down on the small of your back. His thrusts were deep and steady, groaning at the tightness.

Ransom’s hand clamped down on your jaw, turning your face to look at him forcibly. You gasped in surprise when he spit in your face, burying himself hilt deep. His hand moved up, wiping the spit all over your face roughly.

“You’re gonna cum all over my dick,” he rasped, slowly rolling his hips. You groaned, full of him. “Aren’t you?” You nodded feverishly and he smiled in response. “Can’t fucking help yourself.”

Ransom pulled out, snapping, “On your back.” Your calves rested on his shoulders, his fingers digging into the front of your thighs as he resumed his thrusting, jolting you against the bed. You keened, his cock brushing your g spot so easily in this position.

“Look at you…” he husked. “A dirty little whore. Say it!”

“I’m your dirty little whore,” you gasped back to him.

His eyes practically rolled back into his head. “Yeah, that’s all you are,” Ransom groaned in pleasure. “A filthy little skank. Mine. Mine…”

Trailing off, Ransom bit at his bottom lip as his thrusts became quick and shallow. It was too much, pushing you over the edge, much to his pleasure. You saw stars and your legs quivered and you heard him encourage you, a new slew of degrading names falling from his lips.

Your legs were held up by his hand as he stared down at your pussy, his eyes still hooded with arousal. You could feel his seed inside you – he always finished inside.

“That won’t do,” he murmured. His fingers ran up, wiping the cum dripping out of you and he shoved his fingers back in. “There we go… don’t want to waste a drop. Let’s make sure his little. fucking. favorite,” he grated out every word, his fingers pushing in deep and you clenched around him, biting your bottom lip as your high wore off. He was not being gentle. “Gives us another little bun in the oven to fawn over.”

Why was he talking in third person? You did not dare ask.

“You’re going to act happy, Y/N. You’re going to be happy. You’re going to fucking smile. You’re going to fucking love me, adore me. And everyone’s going to believe it,” Ransom snarled at you, his breath ragged. “That fucking clear? No more of this kicked puppy routine you fucking do. Especially when it seems I’m not there. I won’t have it. Not anymore. We are going to have a perfect little family from now on.”

“I—”

“Don’t fucking argue with me,” he said dangerously. “I said, ‘is that clear’? Just nod your head. It’s not that hard, Y/N.” You nodded silently and he clipped, “Good. You better shape up quick. I’m going to fuck you every night until you’re giving me another son.” His fingers slowed, his thumb rubbing your abused clit and you hissed. He smiled at the reaction and he gave it a little pinch, drawing a pathetic whimper out of you. “Yeah, you’re going to do exactly as I tell you. Such a good girl.”

He gave you a rough kiss and husked, “Don’t mistake me being nice to you outside these walls as anything other than it being my turn to put on a show.”

~~~

Tags: @coconutqueen21 

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fic #knives out fic #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale #my shit

[lyrabythelake]

Dear Malon

I wrote this short fic a while ago for an LU zine but realised I haven’t posted it anywhere else, so here you go!

Dear Malon,

I can only hope these letters are finding you. Admittedly, I haven’t had much experience with time-travelling postmen before, nor do I know anyone who has, so my faith in his reliability is limited. However, I do like to imagine my words have reached you, that you know I am safe and well and that I am on a wondrous journey with friends by my side. I know how you worry.

It seems like months since I last wrote, though I know it’s been only days. Our ultimate purpose on this quest is still unclear but the boys never lose hope. They fight with a determination unparalleled by anyone I’ve met and every day I become prouder of them still.

Occasionally I am filled with dread at the way they look up to me as their leader. It’s a great honour that they see me that way, but I am terrified I won’t fulfil their expectations of me. I wake in a cold sweat each night, the afterimages of each of them in harm’s way because of my negligence burned into my mind…

“He’s writing again.”

Eight heroes sit under the cherry blossoms in the still afternoon. The trees are in full bloom and the pink petals fall gently into the deeply grassed meadow and the trickling stream, washed away in a rush of fresh silver water.

They look to the ninth at Four’s words, hunched over the paper with his hair falling over his face, shielding him in his concentration towards the words he writes. Petals rest in his hair, on his clothes but their gentle presence doesn’t catch his notice, nor do the other heroes’ muttering only meters away. His sword is within reaching distance, always prepared for an attack, but otherwise he is a picture of peace, one the others dare not disturb for its rareness.

“Where do you think he sends them?” Hyrule asks in innocent curiosity. It is a question -among others- they’ve all asked themselves at one time or another. They have their theories, even discussed them at times when Time himself isn’t around.

“I bet they’re love letters,” Sky muses, his wistful gaze undeterred from the Hero of Time and the scratching of his quill.

“What? No way,” scoffs Wind. He is not quite as versed in love as some of the others, but he is practiced in the art of longing and desire.

Warriors is the first to raise his eyebrows.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“He’s never talked about anyone before,” Wild argues.

“So?” interjects Legend, “not everyone likes to flaunt their love affairs like the Captain.”

“I don’t flaunt anything!”

“The old man keeps his emotions close to his heart,” murmurs Twilight, drawing the attention of them all despite the softness of his words, “Love is beautiful yet fleeting, like the cherry blossoms in spring. He’s right to treasure it and keep it close.”

“Uh oh, the ranch hand’s off again,” snorts Wild and there is a ripple of laughter in response.

“I think it’s nice he has someone to write to,” states Hyrule and the others agree. They’ve all known the wasteland of loneliness at some point in their lives and it has left its scars on them all.

It is a while before Time, lost in a world of his own, puts his quill down and gets to his feet. He folds the paper neatly into four and slips it into the deepest of his pockets, away from prying eyes and ready to hand over to the postman whenever they might see him next.

His thoughts drift and swirl like the blossom petals that fall around him, content and serene with just an ounce of sorrow like that which comes with the ephemerality of spring. The others’ lighthearted chatter dips and bays as he treads along the bank of the rushing stream.

He thinks of his wife, worlds away, and wonders what she is doing. Wonders if he’ll ever get to see her again.

Dear Malon,

This time of year reminds me of you.

It was around this time, many years ago, that I married you with a promise that the worst of my adventures were over. That from then on, my life would be simple, wrapped in safety with the woman I love. I think you knew back then that it was a promise I could never keep. I could run from it forever, but adventure always seems to find me.

This adventure is different to the others I’ve been on. With the boys here each battle comes with a new terror I never felt when fighting on my own, though I am certain I wouldn’t be alive today without them.

The responsibility I feel for them goes beyond just our age difference and the mutual respect we afford one another. I never called myself a hero. That title has been forced upon me despite my assurances that I couldn’t be further from it. I look at Hyrule and Legend sometimes and the others that have suffered, even if not directly, from my hand and feel all their suffering and sorrow tenfold in the form of heavy guilt…

“I think we should go south.”

Legend’s statement is met with confusion from most and narrowed eyes from Time, an expression missed by all but Legend himself.

“Why south?” asks Warriors curiously. Legend is grateful his words are not dismissed immediately. He supposes it’s not often he makes bold suggestions such as this one without proper reason to do so, so it’s bound to draw their attention. He may have the experience, but he has no qualms in leaving the day-to-day leadership and tactics to Time, Twilight and Warriors.

“I have a good feeling about it,” he replies confidently, like the argument he’s giving isn’t totally redundant.

“You have… a good feeling…”

“Yes. It’s not like we have anywhere we particularly need to be.”

“Don’t you think we should go to the castle?” suggests Twilight, prompting a collective look to Time for the final decision. He knows this land best after all.

Time’s frown has become increasingly more pronounced throughout the brief debate, his eyes fixed on Legend suspiciously.

“Let’s go south,” he decides eventually, his gaze not leaving Legend, missing the way Twilight raises his eyebrows but otherwise holds his tongue. As they set off, Time falls into step beside Legend, his gait revealing nothing of the emotions Legend expects he is feeling.

“You had no right to read it,” he says after a while, and his voice is not angry but rather fiercely neutral.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Perhaps I would have believed you if the letter hadn’t mysteriously disappeared from my jacket this morning.”

Legend says nothing. He was sure he had got away with it. His curiosity had momentarily surpassed his guilt long enough to sneak a glance at the heartfelt (and very private) scribbled note before returning it to the old man’s jacket when he was distracted.

It took a simple question to a merchant in the castle town after that to determine the whereabouts of one ‘Lon Lon Ranch’.

Dear Malon, the letter had said, and in his haste to read it, Legend had almost mistaken the scrawled name for someone else’s entirely.

We moved between worlds again last night and the nine of us have found ourselves somewhere very familiar to me. My first thought was to drop any heroic duties and run to you there and then before it struck me how selfish that would be.

You see, homesickness is a perpetual ailment among the boys (and myself) and they have given up so much to embark on this journey with no discernible end. I cannot in good conscience refute that to return to our Lon Lon Ranch. It kills me to do so, particularly as all I can think of is seeing you again…

 The boys are inevitably curious about the purposeful path Time leads them along, but he can’t quite bring himself to answer their inquisitiveness with a succinct answer. He has a one-track mind, all thoughts geared towards the relief of his destination and all other sounds fade into the background to make way for it.

They reach the ranch before nightfall, his companions’ confusion only increasing at the sight of the woman standing outside it. The way he falls into her arms is answer enough; the warmth of her embrace has never felt so inviting.

The others’ voices are a mere echo of disbelief, hilarity and the ending of bets behind him as he focuses on the relief and utter contentment that comes with being home after far too long. The stress of the past weeks, the constant worry for the boys and their respective worlds, melt from him immediately, leaving him as light as a feather.

The Hero of Time has never been one for excessive emotions, but as he clings to the familiarity of his wife, he almost thinks he could cry.

“Did you get them?” he asks, hesitantly, “the letters?”

Her smile is like the sun as she whispers back.

“I treasure every one.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #time/malon #loveletters #fanfic #lyra writes

[roll-da-credits]

The Dreaded Finals - Kuroo x Dumbass Reader -

Word Count: 2.3k

With finals quickly approaching you dreaded for your impending doom. Having barely studied the entire semester and getting just passing grades, both you and Kuroo were rather anxious about the finals. (The title is me. I’m the dumbass reader.)

A/n

This story was brought to you by me procrastinating on studying for finals even though its literally a week away. I should study Physics and Biology right now but I can’t be bothered at all. Anyways, as always I hope you guys enjoy the first Haikyuu post here. 

“THEN WHAT THE HELL IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SERIES AND SEQUENCE IF THEY USE THE SAME FORMULAS???” What is math.

You threw your hand up and Kuroo looked at you, exhausted but amused at how idiotic you actually were.

This morning you were just reminded by your boyfriend, Kuroo that tomorrow was the math finals.

How you forgot the dates for finals was beyond him. Cue panicking over not understanding a single thing taught in math.

Him being the kind boyfriend he was, offered to teach you the formulas and do some example questions with you. Though at first, he thought it wasn’t going to be that hard, your scores weren’t amazing, but they were passing.

From your test answers, he noticed how you already understood the formulas. You just had trouble applying them and putting the right formulas on the right questions.

But he realized pretty quickly, you were just incredibly lucky.

“So, for geometric and arithmetic they have 2 formulas for each so its 4 formulas all together I think you already know that-“

“Wait there’s 4??” Kuroo looked up at you from the paper slowly, completely dumbfounded how you didn’t know there was 4. “Ok stop looking at me like that HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?”

Kuroo pitifully smiled and ruffled your hair. “How did you even pass this test if you didn’t know there were 4 formulas??” He actually was amazed at how you graduated from Junior High.

“Well I just guessed around, plus sitting beside smart students help a lot you know.” You nudged over towards Kuroo. A sly smile decorating your features.

He shook his head, amused at the fact that you somehow cheated on every single test but STILL get a BARELY passing score.

“Ok so, this is how it works.” He then spent close to one and a half hour explaining everything about ONE out of the four topics you had to study that day.

Thankfully you seemed to be focused to be learning everything, he was actually surprised at the fact that you were enthusiastic to try and understand everything.

Now was the hard topic. It was close to 8pm and you finished 3 topics, but the last one. Algebraic expressions.

“Yea no, you know what. I’m just going to stop here and hope this doesn’t come up that much tomorrow.” He laughed out loud at your reaction when he showed you his notes.

Your hand tangled in your hair with your eyes wide open, completely baffled at the satanic writing in front of you. “This doesn’t even look like math anymore.”

Sighing, you planted your head on his desk. He grabbed both your shoulders and shook you lightly as a small way of trying to cheer you up. “At least you already understood the other topics, algebra’s hard, don’t be too hard on yourself.” He tried motivating you.

Kuroo was one of the most supportive boyfriends you could ever ask for, whenever it came to you trying out new things or you trying to study. He was always there to support you and sometimes tease you whenever you needed a laugh.

Kuroo smiled fondly over at you, there was something about you that always captivated him. Even in situations like these where you’re frustrated or just plain annoyed, he always saw you as incredible.

He admired you as well, although sure your grades weren’t something that would qualify for Harvard or Oxford. He admired that you still tried, albeit you procrastinated a lot. He’s never seen you fully give up and come to something completely unprepared.

You were always working on your flaws, whether you realized it or not. And for that he admired you. “Can we just hang out now? You’re very deserving of a break.”

Truthfully, he just wanted to have a soft cuddle session with you on the bed until you realized you had to go home, before your parents start calling the police. Much to his disappointment, you shook your head and opened your phone to check the time.

“Can’t. My parents already texted me, asking where I am.” You muttered, already beginning to take your books and notebooks. “Thank you for teaching me though, you’re the best.”

You gave him a light peck on his lips as you stood. Successfully making the volleyball captain grin. “Love you, wish me luck for tomorrow.”

~

The next day came and it was no surprise that he was actually worried for you. As always, you arrived in class one minute before the teacher came in.

Before the test papers were handed out Kuroo saw you look back at his seat 2 rows behind you and grinned largely.

How the fuck were you so calm.

Even he was stressing a little bit internally. He felt like he didn’t prepare enough.

When the tests were handed out his eyes widened. From what he saw by skimming the questions, close to 75% of it was algebraic expressions.

Something both of you deliberately skipped last night. Safe to say the entire time he was doing the test he snuck glances over to you, trying to see if you were panicking or not.

Although, even if you were, he wouldn’t be able to see it since your back was facing him. For some reason, it was panicking him a lot that he didn’t spend the time to teach you.

What happens if you fail?

He knows your parents were rather strict on grades. They agreed as long as it was a passing grade you would be safe from a punishment.

But what if you failed?

Would your parents stop you from visiting him?

Or worse, what if they confiscated your phone?

How was he going to text you flustering pick-up lines in ungodly hours of night?

Even through all of the stress pile up and him panicking every time he read a new question and it was still algebraic expressions. He somehow finished the entire test on time.

The only good thing that comes from finals are, no other subjects, and you get to go home early. Lunch time came as soon as the test ended and the bell rang.

Kuroo immediately went to your table, “Damn, we should’ve studied algebraic expressions huh cutie?”

He patted your head lightly. He wanted to tease you, making sure you smiled at something if you were feeling down at the unlucky test questions.

What he didn’t expect you to do was giggle. “Damnit, I probably used up all my luck in my other tests.” You barely seemed bothered by the high chance you might get a failed score on math FINALS. “Maybe next time I’ll listen to you more.”

You grinned ear to ear, standing up from your chair to kiss the rooster head boy on the cheek.

“You coming? I want to meet up with Kenma.” He didn’t even realize you were already leaving the classroom.

The rest of the lunch break was spent with you and him talking about random nonsense, whilst Kenma sits playing his game and adding a few of his own opinions to whatever topic you talked about.

Afterwards it was time for another final test, you and Kuroo took your seats again and began the test.

He again realized; this was difficult. He struggled with a few of the questions. This made him worry again for you.

Not that he wanted assume you were stupid or anything of the kind, you were a pretty smart person when it came to certain subject. Though, other subjects you seem to get a barely passing grade.

Then again, after the test, you didn’t seem bothered by it and barely complained about the question.

The finals week went on and every day the same thing keeps happening.

He’d help you study but would have to cut a few things from each topic short because you had to go home. The next day the test would have you write the answers completely and in depth, he’d get worried you won’t be able to do it. As always, after the test.

You didn’t seem shocked or even bothered.

You didn’t even talk about the finals when you were hanging out, you wouldn’t talk about the questions or even discuss the questions you didn’t understand with him.

He was perplexed by you. One day you were panicking because you didn’t understand math at all, the next you seemed terrifyingly calm after doing something you supposedly can’t do.

You didn’t speak about the finals for the next week either, it was when the last week of school finally came that the moment of truth is revealed.

All the test papers would be given back to the students.

Since this was finals to determine if you’d make it to your third year, everyone seemed antsy. Even Kuroo himself was scared to see his score, passing was one thing, his expectations for himself was another thing.

He looked over to you, and again. You seemed,

Oddly calm

No nervous foot tapping, ghost piano playing on your table, or even your fingers fidgeting with each other.

Nothing.

Completely calm

It was unnerving, he’s never seen you that calm before.

You’ve always been someone who matched his energetic lifestyle, so seeing you so quiet and calm was… creepy.

The test papers are finally given back to the students, and the teacher left the classroom.

A range of emotions swept through the class, some crying, others cheering. Kuroo sighed in relief. His scores just reached his own expectations.

He walked over to your table and saw you clutching the paper close to your chest. Readying for the worst, he waited for an outburst of emotion.

Then he saw it.

The first few tears that came out of your eyes. His heart immediately broke at the sight.

He knew you worked hard and didn’t procrastinate the whole week of finals, although you did before. You always made up for it by studying extra hard a day before finals.

He took his palm and wiped a few of your tears. “Oi, cutie, come on give me a smile. Grades don’t mean everything. Plus, I bet that one subject you love you got a really good score on.”

He took your chin on his right hand and lightly pulled it up to look at him.

His eyes widening with little bit of fear. You were SMILING???

Seeing his shocked expression made you laugh really loudly whilst wiping the tears. You put all of your test papers on your table for him to see.

Every one of your finals you didn’t only get a passing score.

But every one of them were above 85.

You got a 90 for math.

“I DID IT!!!” You enthusiastically yelled and stood up abruptly.

You hugged Kuroo, whilst the table between the two of you made the position a little bit awkward. He leaned into your touch, still confused though.

When you pulled away you laughed at his ridiculously confused expression. You sighed in contempt and sat back down at your chair.

“I slept for 2 hours every single night, just to study. When I come back home from your house, I’d still study. I’d try to understand every single thing we didn’t touch on before.” Your eyes glimmered with a sense of pride.

A new kind of admiration filled his heart as he listened to his beautiful lover talk about all the things they did to help them memorize everything.

You were lost in your own explanation that it took you a while to realize Kuroo was looking at you with the most love-struck expression. “Pffftt, what’s that face.” When he realized he was staring he immediately looked away and blushed.

“Hey hey hey!! I thought you were the teasing one in this relationship.” You continued to tease him whilst laughing.

Kuroo looked back at you and gave you one of the most genuine smiles you’ve ever seen. Successfully making you stop talking, “You’re incredible.”

He said out of nowhere. It amazed you at how Kuroo was able to say those kinds of things with a straight face. You awkwardly laughed at his comment, “You inspired me you know?” His head cocked to the side with curiosity. “I thought to myself, you deserved a smarter lover. So, I wanted to get really good scores this year.”

Oh, if only you knew how much YOU inspired HIM to be a better person. Since it was time to go home anyways, Kuroo took your bag with his and dragged you across the hallways.

“Where the hell are we going???” You were utterly confused.

Kuroo didn’t even reply, he just ran all the way back to his home and his room. You threw off your shoes as quickly as possible whilst he was still pulling you.

He pulled you on his bed with him and immediately cuddled close.

“The fuck?” It wasn’t as if you didn’t like it.

You just were… confused

“You said you haven’t been getting enough sleep so we’re taking a nap right now. I won’t take no for an answer chibi-chan. If you do say no, I’ll just keep bragging about my scores until you’ll sleep just to get away from me.”

You scoffed, “I’d never fall asleep with THAT kind of bedtime story.”

Kuroo looked down at you, “Well, first off I got a 98 in math, it wasn’t hard. I saw that question 4 you got it wrong and the way to actually do it is-”

“Go to hell, I’d rather sleep.” His signature hyena laugh filled the room.

Adorable as always.

“Then go to sleep cutie.”

You hummed in agreement and put your hands around his torso, whilst he to yours. His chin resting on the top of your head and you nuzzling into his broad chest.

This was the perfect end to finals week.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #haikyuu x you #haikyuu oneshot #kuroo oneshot #kuroo fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x self insert #kuroo #kenma #haikyuu!!

[ablackfangirlwrites]

A/n: A new chapter for those of you who were waiting for this! I hope you enjoy it 💕🖤💕 again tagging @ayocee because you were a big help in making this love u boo😘

Part 1

Part 2

“You are too damn cute,” Daichi said breathlessly as he kissed you against the library bookshelf.

You couldn’t help but giggle, “Daichi- you’re going to get u-us in trouble.” You said inbetween his kisses, But he didn’t seem to care as he pushed up closer against you and deepened the kiss. 

That’s how the last few days had been. You had been wrapped in everything that was Daichi. And you had been enjoying every second of it. 

How did you get so lucky? Was all you could wonder. First, a random guy who is insanely hot pops up into your life and returned your precious wallet; And on top of that, he was interested in you!

And it’s been since that day you the two of you had been meeting up. 

You had been right. You did have a few classes with him. And when you saw him the next day he offered to sit next to you and walk you to your next class. To which you happily agreed.

And after a few walks around campus and late-night texting sessions, you found yourself really enjoying his company. Hints the reason why you were making out during one of your study sessions in the library 

So needless to say the two of you really really did hit it off. 

And things really had been blissful with Daichi. He really was all the things you had thought he was, handsome, charming, funny, caring. He was literally everything you wanted in a guy. 

Except there was one problem…

He wasn’t so keen on being in a relationship. 

“I just got out of a relationship Y/n…” He told you the first time you brought up being his girlfriend and making things official.

“But I do like you a lot so I can definitely see myself with you if we keep this up, ” And looking into his beautiful brown eyes you believed him. And you had hope that there was a passionate relationship in the future for you two.

“But doesn’t that upset you? It’s been like a month since you started talking. What do you wanna do? Are you going to keep seeing him? ” Your friend asked you once they knew you and Daichi had been seeing each other for a few weeks. And nothing had been declared official yet. 

“I don’t know...I mean I get why he doesn’t want to rush into anything, but I believe if I give him a little time we’ll be together...He’s a good guy.” You told her confidently. If anything you were trying to convince yourself. Maybe it was because of all those bad relationships of your past you were doubtful. "He just got out of a relationship he just needs time."

Daichi was different. He had to be. He was nice..he’s a good guy.

Her only response was a sigh, “Alright I trust your judgment. But even nice guys can have a bad side.” 

Once again you found yourself just hoping you were right. 

Things kept getting more intense with Daichi. Which was good and bad; Bad because even after seeing each other for over 3 months he still didn’t want to make it official and good because even though that was the case you still couldn’t get enough of him, he was just so good to you. He always listened to you. He was was making sure you were comfortable with him. He was literally perfect.

But you weren’t so stupid and naive, and again it might have been because of all the other times you had been used. That you had made a deal with Daichi. No sex until you were official.

The only problem with that was Daichi seemed okay with it. Make out sessions and dry humping was working for him. And he respected your boundaries, And it annoyed you to no end because the whole reason you said that was to encourage him. But that didn’t work.

There was one other issue too...His friends.

You weren’t sure if they like you or not. It wasn’t that they were mean to you either. If anything they were indifferent. Daichi talked about them all the time, making them sound fun and lively. And when you met them they all seemed great, but whenever you were around you couldn’t help but get the feeling they were all having a conversation about you behind your back. It made yoi feel uneasy. But you pushed it too the back of your mind.

“You really falling for all that? His one friend Kuroo asked you one day. After Daichi had left to do something, leaving you with his friends. Out of all of Daichi's friends he was the one that you were sure you didn’t like. As far as you were concerned Kuroo was a nerd and who was annoying and he seemed to always have something snarky to say whenever he saw you with Daichi. 

“What jealous? You can't be as charming as him?” You quipped back at him.

Kuroo snorted with an eyeroll, “Sure.”

Annoyed with his attitude you spoke up again, "Whats you deal anyway? Aren't you supposed to be his friend? Or do you just not like us together?"

Kuroo signed closings his notebook and packing up his things where he was studying, “I’m just watching this one play out. It’s a shame tho you seem nice.” He was so condensing. It was always something vague with him.  But you just roll your eyes and continue about your way, not giving his words much thought.

Having no idea what his words really meant. 

But all good things must come to an end. 

It was a random day when you saw Daichi. He had been texting you as normal all-day. And everything seemed fine. You guys even planned on seeing each other later that night to study.

But then you saw him as you were heading back to your dorm.

That itself wouldn’t have been a problem if not for the fact he told you he was still had work to do in one of his classes, and the fact you saw him with someone else. And not just anyone. Another girl.

And again that wouldn't have been a problem either if not for the fact he had his hands wrapped around her, and she him as the two of them stood there kissing in broad daylight. Not caring who saw them. Which was very different from anytime you were with him. It wasn’t like he was keeping you a secret he took you around his friends after all...but now that you were really thinking about it you never been with him kissing outside in the middle of the campus who was she?

They stopped kissing and stood there talking for a bit smiling and staring into each other eyes, just like you usually do with him and you felt the sting in your heart. You almost felt bad for just standing there watching them. Like you were invading their privacy, but they were out in public…

You wanted an answer.

You don’t know where you got the courage from but you didn’t want to be a bystander in this. So you went up to them. Praying that she wasn’t anyone serious to him. That maybe she was like you and they hadn’t been made official and you still had a chance. You still wanted hope that you and Daichi could be together. 

“Hey, Daichi!” You said in a voice that was way too high.

Daichi seemed to freeze for a moment when he saw you, “oh-Y/n...Hey..er- how have you been?” 

He really was acting like the two of you hadn’t been texting just a few hours ago. And you felt your heart sinking.

“I’ve been fine, Daichi…” You started to trail off

But the girl spoke up, “Who’s this Di?” 

He cleared his voice, “Um a girl I study with sometimes."

You couldn't believe it, Daichi didnt even have the decency to tell her your name.

Daichi seemed to pick up how that made you feel so clearing his voice he spoke up, "Y/n.."

But the girl looked at him expecting him to say more which he also picked up on, " Annnd Y/n- this my girlfriend (girls name)” He answered avoided your gaze.

You didn’t know what hurt the most that he couldn’t look at you, or that he was in a relationship when he had been leading you on all this time.

But not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of him anymore. You faked a smile, “Yeah, ummm...I-I was just asking if you had any trouble- with that problem number 4 on the test today?”  You asked him out of the blue.

Daichi seemed to sigh with relief that you weren’t making a scene, “Yeah, I did actually. But I’m sorta busy right now but we can go over it later alright?” 

You were so hurt, and you were trying not to cry, “Don’t bother...I'll figure it out” You told him before walking away.

This was a nightmare! You felt betrayed! How could he? The events of the last few minutes replayed in your head. A girlfriend? No wonder he didnt want to be in a relationship with you, he was already in one! You wished so hard that it wasnt true. That he would run after you and tell you it was a joke. That you were the one he wanted. That the last few months with him weren't a lie.

But that wasn't going to happen.

You got far enough to where you were sure they couldn’t see you before you let your emotions flow....He had a girlfriend you repeated in your head over and over again. You felt so used, and stupid. This was far worst than the other guys, Because you actually believed he was different; that he was your Mr. Perfect. 

But you were so wrong.

“Oof that was awkward,” You heard someone say besides you, you quickly tried to wipe away the tears on your face. Only to look to see it was Kuroo. Great, of course, it was him out of all people you thought.

“I bet you’re really enjoying this,” You said trying your best to sound tough as you fiddled with your clothes and tired to make yourself look like you werent crying.

But kuroo wasnt so cruel to tease you while you were clearly upset, and he knew the reason why, “Y/n, I’m sorry-” He tried to tell you but you werent listening.

"I dont need you pity kuroo," You said rolling your eyes and leaving.

 You didn’t have time to deal with another jerk. You thought you were done with them. Daichi was supposed to be a good guy. The one you could trust. The person that was going to make your life better. 

But from what you just went through and that hollow feeling in your chest, you knew how wrong you were.

#daichi x y/n #daichi sawamura x reader #f.boy daichi sawamura #daichi sawamura #haikyuu daichi #daichi scenario #haikyuu daichi x you #haikyuu daichi x reader #daichi x you #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x you

[megastarstriker]

★{𝗡𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗧𝗼 𝗡𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹}★

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{ℕ𝕀𝕂𝕂𝕀 𝕊𝕀𝕏𝕏 𝕏 ℝ𝔼𝔸𝔻𝔼ℝ}

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𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Bullying and Abuse, Slight Cussing, Depression and Anxiety 

Contains: FLUFF AND ANGST

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Nikki Sixx x Asperger’s! Female Reader

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩:

Summary: (Y/N) a 13 year old girl goes to her first day in high school. Despite the hard attempts and making friends because of her socially awkwardness she finds herself distracted by a certain boy in her class. (Note: This isn’t made for discrimination or stereotypes to people who go through anxiety, depression or have autism. This is all real stuff and written for the sake of notice and to betaken seriously. I won’t be portraying any kind of offensive or critical stereotypes nor will ever in this one-shot. This was based on personal experience and point of view. IF YOU ARE DEALING WITH ANXIETY AND DEPRESSION AND ARE TRIGGERED BY THESE SAME THEMES. PLEASE DO NOT READ FOR YOUR OWN SAKE. AND IF YOU ARE SUFFERING FROM EITHER ONE, PLEASE FIND SUPPORT OR HELP, WE ARE ALL HERE FOR YOU EVEN IF YOU DONT THINK SO WE ARE. WE WILL HELP YOU GET THROUGH IT, AND IN THE END IT WILL HELP YOU ALOT💕 )

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @metalheartofgold, @ginny-rose-sixx, @xxqueencolourxx​, @littlemisscare-all​,

💕 LOVE YOU GUYS AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA GET TAGGED  💕 

Keys:

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

{Photos and gifs aren’t mine they belong to their owners. I only own the editing} 💕

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 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆  ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆  ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆  ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆  ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

 1971

“Mommy, what if the other kids don’t like me or hate me.....”, I managed to utter out as I looked at her through a glimpse as I looked down at my shoes, while sitting on the stool near the counter. 

“Oh Honey, don’t say that, you know that’s not true.”, Mom said in a cheery voice as she was working on breakfast listening to me as she did,” Some of those kids will like you. Might even want to be your friend.”

I looked up at my mom only glancing at her back as she was stirring the ingredients in a bowl, my attitude and mood not changing from its gloom state as I heard those positive words, as it should.’ Is she only saying that to make me feel better?’ I thought in my head as I felt a bit angry at the thought, a bit happy too that she cared, though it didn’t change my idea of it nonetheless. 

......

......

......

“They think I’m a freak and a monster.....”, I said suddenly without emotion my voice breaking a bit as I felt tears building up a bit on my eyes at the idea of it, trying my best not let them crawl and trace down my cheeks as I didn’t want her to see me cry.

My mom then turned around from what she was doing in the kitchen towards me her eyes widening at what I said, almost dropping the pan she was holding that held a small stack of pancakes, as she heard those sharp and painful words out of my mouth. She gulped slightly making me quirk an eyebrow, waiting for a response and obviously worried and confused for her silence, feeling insecure as I awaited her answer. She then put the pan down and walked towards me kneeling down unto my level as I tried my best to dry roughly at the tears. Only for her to gently push them away from my face and take her soft and delicate hands and brush the tears away with her fingertips as she grabbed my face gingerly, her eyes filled with concern as she did.

“You are not a freak or a monster....Ok. and definitely not a monster.”, My mom corrected me sincerely as she said in a whispering tone to me letting her forehead connect with mine as her gaze met mine.” You are just different from the rest of the other kids.”

“You are special.”, She said as she kissed my forehead, embracing me as she did, returning the hug it a few moments later as I registered the action in my brain. Letting my arms wrap around her for warmth and comfort, as I left the few remaining tears drop unto her clothed shoulder, cursing myself for it.

......

......

......

“Yeah Right.”, I muttered under my breath sarcastically as I replayed the events from this morning. Holding a pen and flicking it repeatedly, as I felt my anxious state grow with every step I took towards what was now called my school, trying to take my stress away roughly at the writing utensil gripped tightly at my hand as I repeated the process. This was a soothing technique for me for whenever I felt overly stressed or anxious in a situation. Despite the annoying sound it would do, I couldn’t help but feel calm and relief wash over me as I felt the tensing energy leave my body, easing my breathing, nerves, and muscles. I then stopped as I calmed down putting the pen on my pocket as I released a sigh, gripping my bag tightly.

------

This wasn’t the first time my mother has said or used the word special in those exact occasions. To be honest there was nothing special about me. This wasn’t my first school that I was attending either. I’ve been to many, and seen many faces from kids my age and younger to teachers and parents. Despite their differences they have one thing in common when it came to me. They all gave me the same look. Whether it was pitiful or dirty it didn’t matter. All the different kids from different schools gave me that same stupid and meaningless face. At first I thought it was because I was new to them, but then I started to quickly realize it wasn’t just that.....I was a shy girl so I never really understood at that time. All those times I would try to talk to people or waiting for them to approach me as I sat alone calmly doing my work....Being friendly and confident as possible as I greeted them with the best and nicest smile I could muster on my young face...They never responded back they simply whispered something to another kid and simply left me standing there stranded as they went to play with the other kids... Avoiding me entirely even when I went to speak with them again....Sometimes I tried asking the kids if I could play but they would either ignore me and walk away or say that It wasn’t a game for me to play......

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Was I not suppose to talk to them?”

“Why aren’t they talking to me?”

Those were some of the thoughts I had, but I knew those weren’t the exact reasons, knowing fully well I wasn’t bad when it came to speech or greetings when I talked to other people. The teachers blamed me for it of course, when I asked them why the other kids avoided me.

“Maybe if you weren’t and acted like such a freak, they would be talking to you.”, One Teacher I remembered bitterly saying to me with the fakest smile as she then turned her back towards me walking away from my small frame not caring whether those words struck my small heart or tear up and cry.

------

I shook my head and decided to think of something else as my sneakers grazed the cement floor on the sidewalk. I then looked towards the sky seeing the sun shinning and the pure white clouds forming picturesque structures as they floated above. ‘I wonder if there is any people living in those fluffy clouds?’, I thought with a smile,’ Is there such a thing as cloud puppies too!?’ 

I giggled a bit as I thought about what a cloud puppy would look like. Sort of like a poodle or    but more fluffier and soft fur like marshmallows and cotton candy combined.  “Are clouds tasty?”, I whispered out loud as I kept staring at the edible-looking clouds, ‘They do look a lot like cotton candy....so maybe.’

I then starred at my feet laughing at the thought, only for then to look up and noticed that I was already in front of the school.

I gulped as I was frozen in place.

“Here goes nothing”, I said to myself a bit nervously as I let my feet drag slowly towards the horrors of what was now officially called my school.

Walking towards the doors of the school, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of nausea hit me, totally uncomfortable on how all of this was going to go. After I enter the entrance to the school through the double doors I couldn’t help but notice one unnormal thing.

Empty halls.

‘Weird.’, I thought in my head with a raised eyebrow.,’ I thought it would be crowded by this time.’

Reading the letters on top of the doors, I checked to see my assigned class as I looked at each one on both sides of me in the empty halls. Seeing the exact one I enter it only for then to see a crowd of unfamiliar faces turned all of their heads in sync towards me.

I then closed it behind me with a jitter in my hands as I felt belittled by all the beady eyes of the students that were staring at me while sitting in there sits.

“Mrs.(Y/N), You’re late!”, A female voice said harshly next to me.

I then turned towards the origin of the voice to my right, seeing it was a middle aged woman with long hair that was tied up into a bun and was wearing glasses underneath her brown caramel eyes. Her faced was adorned with makeup and an angry scowl in her face as her eyes met mine, obviously unhappy and pissed.

“Care to explain why?.”, She said in a dominant tone, and with stern eyes as she crossed her arms across her chest and her heels clicked underneath the marble floor of the classroom as she tapped her foot impatiently.

“I-i....”, I started with a stammer and whisper obviously nervous and uneasy about all of the students who were staring at me in the front of the class.,”I-im sorry..”

‘Way to go me....’, I thought sarcastically at myself as I said those words.

The teacher squinted her eyes with a humph, only to then close them. Then as if on cue....

An erupting choir of laughter resounded in the entirety of the room in sync as all of the kids started to laugh at me. In that moment I felt humiliated and irritated,  I wanted to just throw myself in a box and at the same time tell the kids to shove their mouths up their own asses to shut them up. But I felt completely vulnerable at the moment unknowing of what to say. as I felt small....

‘So much for good impressions.’, I thought in defeat as I looked down at the floor.

“Quiet down class, quiet down!”, The teacher said as she stared at room full of teens as they all kept quiet some of them still snickering softly, or trying to control the laughter that was still trying to emit from their lips.

“I’ll let you off with a warning since you did apologize, after all. The next time though I won’t and you will be sent to the principal’s office as punishment if this repeats. Understood.”, She said a bit more warmly still keeping a strict poise as she turned towards me.

I nodded slowly of course as I listen to her words looking down a bit ashamedly as I did.” Yes Mrs....”

“Mrs. Johnson.”, She said with a small smile and then she gestured towards the empty seat,” You can go ahead and sit next to Frank over there in the back.”

I then followed her arm towards were she was exactly pointing and to my thoughts, there was a boy with an orange pale button up shirt in the far back right next to were my assigned seat was, looking and snapping his thoughts towards the teacher as he heard his name from the teacher’s mouth. I gulped ‘Why the far back?’ I then looked towards the front row and saw the whole aisle filled students already, ‘Oh that’s why...’

Taking a deep breath, I stepped towards through the rows of filled seats, hearing whispers or name-callings as I walked past them towards my seat. Of course I glared at the students a bit in front of me while also trying to put a fake smile for them as I tried my best to ignore their harsh and childish remarks. As I reached the desk, I couldn’t help but notice the “Frank” boy from earlier stare at me from the corner of my eyes as I sat beside him, knowing that he wasn’t in the beginning until he heard his name being called. His bright green eyes observing me as I put my backpack close to my side and slumped into my seat. I then saw as the boy stared for a few seconds at me more before looking away from me in boredom just like a few minutes earlier. 

As he looked away, I couldn’t help but stare at him as I got good look at him clearly compared to when I was in the front of the class. “Frank” had brown blondish hair that was a bit long and slicked back neatly, green and slightly dark eyes as the color of leaves in the trees during springs or summer as they stared boredly away as one hand was held towards his cheek, leaning his elbow against and touching the table on his desk propping his head up, wearing his orange pale button up shirt and white pants, along with some sneakers. 

“Cute.”, I whispered a bit too loudly as I stared at him my cheeks dusting with a violent red as I realized what words fell from  my mouth. Frank being near me ,considering he was beside me and the whole class was quiet at the moment, turned his head to me as he heard what I said with a confused face, either not catching what I just heard or uncomfortable with what I said from my understanding. I then stared to the front away from him, my shoulders tense, my face completely red, and my heart beating out as if it were to rip away from my ribcage and body. I breathed steadily and sighed, as I felt his stare drift away as he huffed a bit going back to his usual stuff to staring at nothing. ‘Geez, what are you thinking girl.....’, I scolded at myself with a mental facepalm,’ You already messed it up with coming late, now your making it worse by telling a boy he is cute....Ugh, at least I hope he didn’t hear me.’

The teacher started lesson as if a few minutes prior and after the incident. Staring mindlessly at the chalkboard, I couldn’t help but feel a bit tired and suddenly....bored as I tuned out the teachers words. ‘School sucks.’, I thought for a moment before a lightbulb suddenly went above my head with a silent yawn,’ I’m gonna draw.’

I then took my separate drawing pad, pen and pencil, while flipping to and empty page. I then started to work my magic as I began to doodle what was on my mind as ideas spurred through my brain. I was pondering on what to draw as I held the pen close to my chin. I had a great influence and overall interest in music, I loved it so much especially when it came to rock music. Because of that, I wanted to become a musician or songwriter one day. I then thought about drawing puppies or rockstars.....

I then did just that as I drew cute little doodles of puppies along with a rockstar sketch of my favorite musician. As I kept listening at the teacher to the class while also distracting myself with some quality time for me, I noticed something soft yet solid grazing shoulder slightly, landing at next to my feet on the floor. It was a crumbled up piece of paper that was made into a ball. Rolling my eyes, I didn’t think any of it as I kept tracing my pen on the paper. 

‘Psst. Hey.’ 

Fixated on the paper I kept on drawing cute little stars and details on the drawing oblivious to the person that was calling someone else, whoever did. 

‘Psst!’

This time it was a bit more louder but still made into a whisper as I didn’t bother to check who it was that made the noise.

I then felt another hard thud on my shoulder this time still soft but harsh as the solid material hit me directly. Leaving my eyes from the paper as I had an angry frown in my face obviously annoyed at the person who threw the paper at me, I looked towards the person who made the ‘psst’ sound again only to see that it was the so called ‘Frank’ boy from earlier. 

He then gestured towards the crumbled sheet of paper in front of my desk. I narrowed my brows at him, with suspicion but complied either way so he could stop bothering me, despite the fact he seemed friendly. Grabbing the crumbled sheet, I heard the sound of the bell ringing before I could open it. The class was then dismissed but before I could read the note that the boy passed to me. I felt a harsh shove as I fell back on the seat causing the note to fall from my hands and into the floor, nobody noticing as they let their dirty shoes graze and paint the paper. Seeing that everyone left including the person that shoved me by accident, I went to pick up the note from the ground only to see that it was indeed painted with shoe prints and ripped in half harshly. ‘Ugh...’ I groaned in disgust as I went to the trash to throw it away,’ I hope it wasn’t something important that I needed to know.’

I then looked towards the back of the class were Frank was, only to find out he wasn’t there anymore. Frowning a bit at the thought as I was hoping maybe I could talk to him, I went towards were all the students were going....probably the cafeteria..

‘Maybe I’ll see him there’, I thought lightening up a bit with a smile.”

‘We’ll even be friends probably....”

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{AUTHORS NOTE}

Hey there I hope you all enjoyed this little miniseries I’m doing. The reason I made this was because of personal experience in my early years in high school, and I felt I had to write them down. I also wondered how it will be like if Sixx to ever meet a girl with autism. I’ll be uploading part two as soon as I can of course .hope you liked it and Thank you for reading.

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#nikki sixx #nikki sixx x reader #young nikki sixx #young nikki sixx x reader #motley crue