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#my precious baby bean <3

aria0fgold · 7 months

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BONUS: Alec, Ray Ages: 13, 11

Ray walked to the front of the class, holding the paper that contains his essay to present to everyone, all he needed to do was read it, simple. He's done it several times before now so he should be able to do it as easily this time, surely… But he still couldn't.

He stood, facing his classmates as he held his paper close to his face, bringing it down slightly so as to not block his view of them, just as he was taught. He needed to look at them too, eye contact. But each time he does, he can't help but feel as though he was being judged. He didn't like it at all, but he has to do it anyway. It's easy, it'll be fine, all he needs to do is just read what he had written, easy as that.

Ray took a shaky deep breath, no matter how many times he stood at the front of the class, it never gets easy, it's never so simple. Why can't he get used to it already?

He glanced around the room, looking for something, or more specifically, for someone. Strangely, Ray had gotten used to the presence of a particular boy that is always there whenever he has a presentation, when that should've been impossible in the first place. They have entirely different classes, one two grades above him. But being the troublemaker that the other was, he's always there for Ray anyway… Just like now.

Ray's eyes widened slightly as his gaze landed on a familiar redhead. His best friend, Alec, hid behind the chair of the kid at the back of the class, he poked his head out to smile at Ray, mouthing “You can do it!” before hiding again.

A quiet giggle escaped Ray's lips. The suffocating air he once felt slowly vanished as he read aloud his essay for the class.

…

“Alec, you know, you always have such good timing.” “Really? But you do tell me whenever you have a presentation the next day anyway.” “Yeah but the teacher calls us randomly each time, but you're always there when it's my turn.” “Hmm… I guess, it's just cuz I wanted to see you! Maybe that's why, hehe! Anyway, let's head to the cafeteria! Cmon, cmon!” …I wanted to see you too. “Hehe… Okay!”

#ariawrites #ariaoc #ariaoc: Alec #ariaoc: Ray #so basically during the panic prompt i had two ideas: one where theyre older and one where theyre younger #but while thinkin of the one where theyre younger i ended up taking the fluffy route so i went for the one where theyre older instead #im sorry my brain... its built for fluff... cant even go half a month without thinkin of smth fluffy smh bro #this prompt was supposed to be a bit longer where the last dialogue was a part of the actual snippet through scene change #but i was like: can i finish writing this thing in 15 minutes i wonder?#so it was a personal challenge that i proudly won he he he >:3 #word count 394 in 15 mins???? crazy #the precious babies... before the horrors got alec...#wai i wanted to talk lil more bout bby alec cuz hes such a precious bean as a kid i feel bad making him go through the horrors #but it had to be done #anyway next post with a lil bit of how alec(+ray) was as a kid!

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animeshotsh · 2 months

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Baby baby~ | Original Sins x Kid!Reader + Stolas x Kid!Reader + Octavia x Kid!Reader |

Summary: Lucifer finally gets his close friends to meet you!! Warnings: no one, just FLUFF.

Lucifer wanted you to meet his closest friends and sins, he had planned this day for so long. He invited Charlie and Vaggie of course, but kept Alastor away.

"Only if i get to take (Y/N) out for the next two days"

And he had accepted, wanting nothing more but to kill the sinner.

~☆~☆~☆

The castle was decorated, Lucifer and the rest of you wearing their best clothes. Food was served, drinks were out (no alcohol allowed) and you guiding Charlie to your room to show her your drawings.

"They are amazing (Y/N) but the rest will soon come-"

Charlie could not end her talk as a very distinct voice claimed from other room.

"Now were its your sweet new kid! Im dying to meet them" The big form of Asmodeus said the three faces looking around for you.

The left one noticed you in the corner by the hand of Charlie.

"Oh!! There they are, (Y/N) come and say Hello to Lust!!" Lucifer called you missing your scared look as you slowly approached the big Sin.

Asmodeus went down on his knee bowing to you "Its a pleassure to meet one of our King's kid, im Asmodeus, you must be (Y/N)"

You nodded looking at his 3 faces and soon smiling at them "You got 3 faces!! And you are so tall, can i get that tall too?"

Asmodeus looked over Lucifer asking for permission, once Lucifer noded Asmodeus took you and let you sit on his shoulder.

"This is great!!" You exclaimed

~☆~☆~☆~

After some more minutes you were left down on the floor when a portal opened, a tall owl dressing in a fashion way appear, behind him a smaller one. Stolas soon saw you and (wanting to show off) opened his book, dark sky appear on the ceiling, different constellations left the sky and went towards you, twirling you around and making you laught.

"Oh Stolas its so good to meet you again my friend!!" Lucifer exclaimed quickly going to shake Stolas hand. "Its has been eones indeed" Stolas agreed looking as you played with the constellation of a horse.

"And Octavia! You have grow so much, I remember when you were so tiny" Lucifer added making Octavia blush and nod at the king who then pointed at Charlie and Vaggie who went to his side. "Im not sure if you remember my daughter, but this is Charlie! and her gilrfriend Vaggie".

Charlie gave a kind smile to the goetia bowing respectfully as well towards her and Stolas "Im so glad to be meeting you again"

Soon you came to them, the horse constellation following you. You stood suprised at the tall owl who got down on his knee as well "And this must be the precious (Y/N), you father never stops talking about you" Stolas said then softly pushed Octavia "This is my daughter Octavia"

You took notice of Octavia being a bit uncomfortable under the attention "Hello! im so happy to meet more friends, i like your clothes! Dad can i get dark clothes too?" you asked to quickly switch the attention to him.

"Of course we can, anything for my small bean" Lucifer beamed.

Octavia gave off a small smile as you smiled at her then went to ask her father about his magic.

"Oh then let me start with the basics..."

~☆~☆~☆~

After what felt like hours of stories of magic a new sound was hear.

"Oh finally, she loves making a big scene" Asmodeus said looking over the flying figure surronded by smoke.

Soon the room was being filled up with music and sweet smell. A pair of hands took you and as the smoke went off you could see what you would describe as a big yellow wolf.

"Awww look at you, you look even sweeter up close!!" Bellzebub said pushing your cheeck against hers smiling. "Lucifer, you must take good care of this one or soon they will end up dating"

"NOT ON MY WATCH" Lucifer exclaimed now having an internal crisis.

Beelzebub soon let herself on the floor with you. "Im Beelzebub, but you kind soul can call me Beel"

"You are beautiful" you could only say in response seeing her hair move around with different colors.

"Aww, and i got all of you a gift"

Soon lots of bottles with orange liquid appear.

"Dont worry this ones" she pointed towards some bottles with what it was supposed to be a demon kid "has no alcohol in it"

~☆~☆~☆~

Quick Extras:

You ended up making Octavia share her music with you and her love for taxidermy.

Mammon did come but only because Lucifer forced him, he ended up liking you as you saw him as "a big huggeable clown" and "you smell like money" you did won him over and he promised to bring you something next time.

Five seconds later tons of money appear alongside a plushie of a famous demon called "Fizzarolli".

Everyone tried to prevent you from drinking too much but you ended with too much sugar and ran for the rest of the night.

Stolas gave you a book of basic magic and told you to call him if you need help with anything.

Beel made you promise that once you get older you would go to one of her parties (how no one knows since you are a sinner but anyway).

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #charlie x reader #mammon x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader

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goldenamaranthe-blog · 16 days

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can you a blurb of appleseed baby falling asleep on Charlie and/or Vaggie's chest

(This was inspired by my 3 month old nephew)

Hello, elinorfairmontsimp13420!

Whew! That's a mouthful. That's adorable! I've been trying to save the post labor asks until I got to.... well.... post labor haha! But this is so adorable that I can come up with a little something for you and your little nephew. Congratulations to Mama!

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Apple Seed: Sleep

Charlie: (walks in after Vaggie insisted she take a full hour or 2 to shower and provide self-care) As much as I hate to admit it, Vaggie, you were right. I really needed that.

Vaggie: (passed out on the floor, reclined on a bean bag chair, with the baby sleeping on her chest, and her arms wrapped protectively around the baby)

Baby: (sound asleep and precious against Vaggie's chest, all nestled in)

Charlie: (soft smiles and puppy eyes as she snaps a picture and covers Vaggie and baby in a red and gold blanket adorned with apples and ducks Lucifer made)

#thanks friend!#apple seed post birth #apple seed #apple seed au #baby #baby snuggles #chaggie #charlie #vaggie

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gimmethatagustd · 11 months

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what the fire gave us (1) | jjk

You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

🔥 pairing: shadow elemental!jungkook x water elemental!(f)reader

🔥 part of a spring offering collab

🔥 wc/date: 9.7k | june 2023

🔥 warnings: major character death (doesn't occur until part 2 but i'm being nice by warning you now; not jk or reader), minor character death, referenced past murder, smut (doesn't occur until part 2), unrequited love (not between reader & jk), reference to human experimentation (nothing is described in detail), persecution of supernatural people, mentions past war, blood, injuries/violence, they all definitely have ptsd, jungkook is a precious baby boy but he'll also kick your ass, JESSI !!!!!! JESSI STANS RISE UP !! JESSI IS THE COMEDIC RELIEF !!! (at least, i find her funny)

🔥 notes: PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE WARNINGS. there is heavy angst, particularly in part 2. i hope that you enjoy this story, even with its cuts and bruises. think of it as stranger things meets avatar the last airbender 😂

🔥 more notes: i was supposed to finish this fic in may lmfao but y'all should know by now that there's no point in trusting me to do what i'm supposed to do. i'm sorry but i will probably never change 😭 ANYWAY. this fic is gonna be over 20k, so i decided to upload it in two parts in an attempt to maintain my sanity cuz this website is trash about handling long posts. i'm almost done with part 2, so it should be uploaded within a week (i swear to GOD i mean it). also, if you follow me on AO3 you'll see that i'm posting this fic in multiple chapters. that's cuz i like the formatting of AO3 chapters better than tumblr. the formatting fits the story better, too.

🔥 main masterlist / part two

🔥 what was jai listening to? cyberpunk - ateez

moodboard credit: @btscontentenjoyer

3 MONTHS

Lookout duty is hard on you. When it’s your turn to camp out on the roof and watch for potential threats, you complain that staying awake all night is hard. Most of the other runaways are night owls, but you aren’t. You need your beauty sleep, you joke. You can’t get comfortable on the roof, even if there’s a flat landing with pillows and blankets to keep you warm.

These are a few of your excuses, but you can’t bring yourself to tell the others the truth: you are scared.

It’s close to midnight when you hear the creak of the trapdoor opening. The likelihood of it being anyone other than the group of Gifted runaways you live with is low, but you can’t trust that the impossible wouldn’t happen. You’ve seen the impossible happen far too often.

Hopping down from the old milk crate you’d been sitting on, you crouch behind a giant bean bag with your bow and arrow ready. The harness you wear strapped around your torso holds your spare arrows. It digs hard enough into your shoulder that you form blisters if you don’t wear a thick enough shirt.

The fluffy pink hair poking out of the trapdoor makes you sigh in relief.

“Hey, kid,” the pink-haired man whispers.

He gently closes the trapdoor and walks with a hunched back toward you, careful not to expose too much of his body beyond the roof’s railing. The abandoned warehouse you live in is on the city's outskirts, with nothing for miles but empty concrete parking lots and overgrown plots of land.

Still, you never know who might be out there. Although the Red Pins have only inflicted pain from within their research facilities, all the runaway Gifteds know that the government employs more than one type of evil to hunt them down.

You try not to think about them, those scientists in long white coats that fall to their thighs and blood-red nametags pinned to their labels with names you often see painted on the walls of your nightmares. Lately, the frequency of the nightmares has lessened. It doesn’t feel like it, though, when you often wake in the middle of the night to your friends screaming in their sleep while they suffer through their own trauma. You wish the knowledge that the pain of being government lab rats is something you all share could be comforting. But, instead, it only makes you hurt more.

“Yoongi,” you huff, returning to your perch on the milk crate. Now your hands are all sweaty. “You should be sleeping.”

“Hi, Yoongi; nice to see you too! Thanks for coming to hang out with me!” Yoongi mocks your voice, clearly stating what he thinks you should have said. “Oh, no problem, Y/N. I just wanted to see how you were doing and hang out with my favorite kiddo.”

You scrunch your nose at kiddo.

“I’m not a kid.”

Yoongi leans over to rub his knuckles into your head. “Nah, you definitely are.”

Despite the lack of lighting outside, Yoongi practically glows. That’s always how it is with fire elementals. It’s like they absorb all the light and let it buzz inside them. Like fireflies, you’d once told Yoongi. He hadn’t found it cute to be compared to a bug.

“If I’m a firefly, then you’re a fucking fish,” he’d teased. You’d promptly summoned water from a nearby puddle to throw in his face.

For as long as you can remember, that’s how it has been between the two of you: fire and water. A push and pull. So different that you need each other to be whole.

You watch Yoongi get comfortable in the bean bag, his skinny limbs spreading like a starfish and his eyes lifting to the sky. In quiet moments like this, you would give anything to hold him. And not out of fear like you had when the scary men came to take you away from your parents. And not out of anger like you had to when you stopped him from blowing up the research facility they’d held you in.

No, you want to hold him and for it to be gentle, soft, and peaceful.

Like now, when the world is silent except for the crickets calling to each other in the weeds and the rustle of wind in the trees.

But he thinks you’re just a kid.

You’re not that much younger than him. But, if you put in the effort to look at your relationship objectively, you’d see that Yoongi’s paternal nature comes out with you and the other runaway Gifteds. He cares for you as an older brother would.

It’s not enough for you, though. It will never be enough.

“Is everyone else asleep?” You rest your elbows on your knees and hold your chin in your hand. When you speak, you look out at the empty field.

“Hobi sneezed and blasted a hole through the bathroom wall,” Yoongi says with a low chuckle. “So me and Joon found some supplies to patch it up the best we could. I think they’re all asleep now, though.”

“How is it Hobi’s the one breaking shit and Namjoon’s fixing it?” You press your hand against your mouth to muffle the ugly snort bursting from you. There’s very little to find funny in this life, so you cherish how your chest burns with fond warmth.

“The world’s all backwards.” Yoongi’s gummy smile lights up the night and tears into your heart.

The two of you fall silent once again. Moving slowly, you reach out to hook your pinky finger with Yoongi’s, a small smile forming when you feel his pinky wrap tightly around yours.

“Where are we gonna go, Yoong?”

He watches you with eyes heavy with sleep, determined to stay up with you even though he doesn’t need to. Initially, you thought it was because he wanted to keep you company. Now, you often wonder if it’s because Yoongi is afraid to sleep, too. He never speaks about his experience at the Labs; the other runaways have learned the hard way not to ask. Singed eyebrows don’t look good on anyone.

“I don’t know.”

You already knew this would be the answer, but it scares you anyway. Yoongi always knows everything.

Yoongi lets go of your hand to sit up in the bean bag.

“Hey, kid,” he whispers. He gently presses his palm to your jaw, cupping your face. You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch in your throat. “As long as we’re together, you don’t gotta worry about anything, okay?”

You stare at him for a long time, searching the bags under his eyes and the worry lines on his forehead.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

3 MONTHS, 1 WEEK

There’s a stream that cuts through the overgrown fields behind the warehouse. It’s man-made, flowing from a sewer tunnel beneath the cracked parking lot - and likely from somewhere else, perhaps connected to a lake beyond the woods at the property's edge. The separation between industrialization and the natural world of the unknown hurts your heart. You’d never felt longing until you found yourself inside a cage of cinderblock walls and concrete floors.

A rope of water whips across your face, drawing you from your thoughts of the woods. It’s muddy and makes your skin and clothes smell sour.

Though the air is still crisp and bites at the tip of your nose, spring came early this year. It takes minimal effort for Namjoon to draw more water from the soiled stream as it’s not frozen over like it should be. With a flick of his wrist, another rope of water hits you, this time across your chest.

“Aghh!”

“Pay attention.”

You lift your arm in enough time to block his next assault. The liquid rope freezes in the air before shattering into a thousand glimmering pieces, scattering jagged ice across the pale yellow grass.

“I’m tired of this, Grandpa.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the pop culture reference; you’re pleased he understood. Posed to speak, mouth already opening, he barely gets a sound out before another voice bellows across the field.

“WELL, THAT’S TOO DAMN BAD!”

Hoseok isn’t afraid to be loud. He smiles, all teeth and pink tongue, and throws his head back as he cackles. Everywhere he goes, he carries the smell of spring with him - cherry blossoms and morning dew that makes newly-grown pieces of grass stick wet against ankles.

You close your eyes and let spring overpower the sour smell of sewer water Namjoon has thrown at you for the past hour. It lets you forget how your skin aches with welts and bruises.

As Hoseok bounds toward you and Namjoon, a dark tornado spins beside him. When he gets closer, you can see Hoseok occasionally blowing a small gust of air toward the tornado. It appears to be made of smoke, a gradient of grays and blacks.

“Look at this,” your friend announces with a mischievous grin. “Me and JK learned a new trick.”

With a quick snap of Hoseok’s fingers, you and Namjoon watch in patient silence as the tornado begins to slow its speed. Almost gently, the smoke curls tighter and tighter until the darkness turns into a solid mass.

Jungkook stumbles a few times as he attempts to get his footing. His limbs continue to propel his body into a small spin.

Hoseok quickly reaches out to grab the younger man. Secure hands squeeze his shoulders, and then it’s only Jungkook’s head lolling about.

“Cool, right?” Jungkook’s voice is gruff, but his lips curl into a weak smile.

Namjoon lets out a long sigh. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Although Namjoon is right, Jungkook does look like the effort of his little party trick took a toll on his body; you can’t help but match his smile. Especially when his eyes flick toward yours. You told his gaze for half a second before Jungkook quickly looks away. His cheeks flush pink, but you’re sure it’s from the exertion of all that spinning.

“I think it’s really cool,” you praise the two while elbowing Namjoon in the ribs. With a grumble, your sparring partner returns to his previous stance a few feet away.

“We should go again. Just for a little while longer.”

Every muscle in your body feels stiff when you turn away from Hoseok and Jungkook.

“I hurt all over, Joonie.”

“Let her rest!” Hoseok adds to your whining. “All we ever do is practice fighting.”

“Sparring.”

Hoseok waves a dismissive hand at the younger man. “Whatever you want to call it. I find it to be fri-”

You stifle a laugh by pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as Hoseok is tackled to the ground by Jungkook. The two men roll around, all arms and legs, kicking up dead grass and dirt. A lot of howling and teasing laughter rings through the open air.

It isn’t until Jungkook is launched into the sky by a gust of wind you know comes from Hoseok, and lands roughly on his back, that the playful fight ceases. How Jungkook lands knocks all the air out of his chest, but he laughs once his lungs start working again.

“Ridiculous, all of you.” Hoseok brushes grass from his clothes. It’s futile; they’re dirty and ragged anyway. Try as you and Namjoon might to use your Gifts to clean the clothes; water does little when there’s no soap.

“I let you win,” Jungkook teases.

Still, he stands a bit further from Hoseok than he had previously. Not far enough for anyone to notice, aside from you. You notice although you don’t mean to. It’s hard not to when Jungkook keeps stealing glances, only to look away when you try to return his gaze.

“You did not.”

“Did, too.” His insistence makes you giggle.

“And how did that work out for you? Hmm? How does your back feel? I know you landed on that rock.”

“I-It, it doesn’t hurt.” Jungkook glances your way. His cheeks are still pink. “Would take more than that to hurt me.”

“Jungkook is impossible to beat.”

You startle at the gentle voice, spinning on your heels to see Yoongi approaching the group. He’s got a leather satchel strapped across his chest and resting at his hip. It bulges with what you assume are plants and fruits scavenged from the woods.

“Boy Scouts” is what Yoongi offered when you asked how he knew so much about surviving in nature. It was peculiar; nothing about Yoongi seemed like the type. He’s tougher, more steel than wood or earth. A bulletproof shield, you think. Broad and strong.

“Impossible?”

Your question is meant to be a tease, but Yoongi’s face remains stoic. Such a severe look only reveals itself when he assumes his position as your misfit group’s leader. It would be extremely attractive if it didn’t scare you.

“How can you fight shadows?” Yoongi deadpans. He stares into your eyes long enough to make your face feel hot, but you don’t look away.

“I…”

Yoongi hums at your lack of an answer. Suddenly, you feel unbelievably small.

“It’s not impossible,” Jungkook whispers. His head hangs low, long bangs hiding his face. The rest of his hair is tied into a bun at the nape of his neck. “I’m just as beatable as you, hyung.”

Something about Yoongi’s expression softens at the honorific. Formalities died long ago, along with many other traditions that once made Korea what it was. So many things died during the war - tangible and cultural - lives and ways of being. Now, the Republic is something you know your friends no longer recognize. Although it is not your home country, your heart aches for what it once was - something you will never have the privilege to experience because you arrived during the Restoration of the Republic - a fallacy of an era since the country was never restored to how it was.

That may be best. It is easier to mourn the loss of something you never knew.

In moments like this, you feel terribly inadequate - when you speak with broken Korean or struggle to understand the foreign politics behind why Gifteds are hunted, no matter how many times Namjoon patiently attempts to teach you. All you know is that, at least here, to be Gifted is not a death sentence, per se. Other countries’ governments have been far less lenient with their mutant population.

You’re simply seen as a science experiment to be tested on, poked and prodded, pushed until you’re driven mad, and then warped into whatever shape the government has the need for.

“You have no match,” Yoongi smiles softly at Jungkook with a shake of his head. “I do.”

Holding out his hand, a small flame appears in the center of Yoongi’s palm. It floats just above the skin, though he isn’t burned. You’ve seen Yoongi summon fire a million times from the heat of the air around him, and he never ceases to amaze you.

With a nod in Namjoon’s direction, Yoongi waits for a small rope of dirty water to splash against his hand. Namjoon is much kinder in his attack against Yoongi, only summoning enough water to extinguish the flame.

“Water will always win against me,” Yoongi admits. This time, he holds your gaze when he speaks. “It is my match.”

You feel something stir in your belly that migrates up your chest until it eventually threatens to suffocate you, nearly getting lodged in your throat.

“You would do well to continue sparring with Namjoon,” he says after a moment before turning to Hoseok and Jungkook, who have otherwise been silent.

It’s an order, even if Yoongi is gentle with his words.

With a sigh, you turn back to Namjoon. It’s difficult to stamp down the heat Yoongi always manages to trigger inside of you. You would compare him to fire even if it didn’t already run in his veins.

Drawing from the murky stream, you weave a ball of water between your palms.

“Let’s go again.”

While you spar with Namjoon, Yoongi leads Hoseok and Jungkook to the other end of the field.

You and Namjoon spar as though you are dancing. It’s a push and pull, your rhythms falling into harmony, even when one of you performs a surprise attack or a new move that hasn’t been practiced before. Perhaps it is because you both fight with water. There is a fluidity to it that the others don’t possess.

Occasionally, your eyes stray to where Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jungkook have begun to spar. The three men do not dance. Instead, they are a fury of elements intertwining in chaos. The wind snuffs fire, Yoongi and Hoseok blasting each other incessantly. Shadows allow Jungkook to disappear before being hit by an attack, only to reappear right behind his opponent to go in for the kill.

And it would be a kill if this was real. You know Jungkook keeps a rather terrifying knife strapped to his thigh. You all carry weapons, though you don’t really need them. Even Jungkook, with a Gift that’s misunderstood and exceptionally rare, is never found without his weapon.

Out of all the Gifteds you’ve met on your way to safety, you have never encountered another who can manipulate shadows. So, there is truth to Yoongi’s statement.

Jungkook is terrifying, even with the wide, starry eyes he always seems to stare at you with. He’s quiet and shy, typically sticking to Hoseok. You assume it’s likely because you found the two of them together. Both were kept in the same room at the research facility in Busan. As unassuming as Jungkook may be, you’ve seen him manipulate shadows to wrap around a Red Pin’s neck. Those shadows twisted and tightened until the man crumpled.

You didn’t need to have the Gift of blood manipulation to know when his heart stopped.

It was one of the scariest moments of your life, even beyond the suffering you’d endured having lived in the research facilities since you were a teen. Before then, you’d never seen someone die. Even when Yoongi and Namjoon helped you escape, they shielded you from the worst of it. It wasn’t until the three of you came upon the newest facility that such horrors were unleashed.

Jungkook hates himself for it. You know he does; you typically make your bed beside his, and he cries in his sleep. Self-defense protects the body in the moment, but harms the mind and heart long-term.

You probably would have done the same.

For as tragic as his story is - or what little you know of it - Jungkook has an undeniably beautiful soul. Those horrors have yet to turn him cruel or his heart black. Even when he spars, you can tell that he’s being gentle. He holds back and doesn’t reach his full potential out of fear of hurting others, you’re sure. You can see it in how he bounces on the balls of his feet to keep his movements light and how his back muscles ripple beneath his shirt as it clings to his skin. A bead of sweat runs along his neck, over the vein that bulges from his exerting effort.

Something prickles under your skin. When you look up, it’s into those wide eyes full of galaxies you’ll never understand, are somehow okay with not understanding if it means you can continue to gaze upon them.

A small smile pulls the corners of Jungkook’s mouth up. His expression is short-lived, though, quickly falling as a bright orange flame licks at his ankles.

“Don’t let my words get to your head, Jeon,” Yoongi teases. “Impossible to beat, but easy to hurt.”

This time, you catch Yoongi’s eye. You duck your head when he winks at you, just in time to block another blast of water from Namjoon.

“Why is everyone so off today?” Namjoon grumbles to himself. You haven’t managed to successfully hit him even once.

“I’m tired,” you whine again, dropping a ball of water to the ground. Dead grass quickly soaks it up once it splashes. “We should check on Jessi.”

Your group's sixth and final member is tucked away in the corner of the warehouse on the top floor. It’s dark up there, though Yoongi’s everlasting fire, paired with the windows Jessi managed to open, gives enough light for her to work.

She has black grease smudged on her left cheek and across her forehead. Her long, thick hair is tied back into a ponytail, though strands have fallen out to frame her face. When you step closer, you hear her muttering, but you can’t make out what she’s saying. It’s not for you. She speaks, facing the black box placed in front of where she kneels on the floor. The floor can’t feel good on her knees with its bits of broken concrete and dirt. Everything hurts in this life; it hardly matters as long as you’re here and not there.

“This piece of shit,” Jessi hisses, running her hands across her face. It smears more grease onto her skin, but she doesn’t care.

“Not working?”

“Beep beep boop beeping all over the fucking place, then static. White noise and shit. Like it’s telling me to fuck off even though I’m the one fixing it.”

You hum, crouching down to stare at the box. It’s an old radio meant to transport messages back and forth. Perhaps left behind by the military after it had occupied this land while it bulldozed the vigilantes seeking to save Gifteds from the fate you all ended up sharing anyway.

Jessi tweaks a few exposed wires. Every time they spark, you flinch. Mini white lightning, it’s deadly for anyone but Jessi. She grumbles and continues her work with deft fingers calloused from toiling away at the stupid thing for months.

“I’m normally so fucking good at this, I swear to God.”

Frustration colors her tone, even if her expression and cursing didn’t already give her feelings away.

You don’t doubt her, though, and you tell her as much. Still, you know firsthand that it sucks when your powers don’t work how you want them to. As a technopath, fixing the radio should be easy work for her.

“There must be something wrong with it… Maybe the Red Pins did something to it?”

You don’t know anything about technology. Even with the phone you’d stolen off one of the Red Pins, all you’d gotten to do was look at TikTok and try to find out where your parents were before Yoongi made you destroy the device. The government had ways to track you. Technology was as much your friend as a stranger on the street.

With a sigh, Jessi leans back until she’s sitting flat on the grimy floor.

“Maybe? Fuck if I know. I think I’m getting close, though. I’m getting some frequency when I concentrate really hard, but I wanna fix it so it’ll work even without me.”

Your friend whispers the end of her statement. It goes without saying; each one of you knows the fragility of life on the run.

“Thank you for working so hard.” Even in the dim lighting, you can see her watery eyes shine. It hurts your heart, but all you can offer is a light squeeze of her shoulder.

Jessi shrugs. “It’s as much for me as it is for you.”

You watch her stand and brush the dirt from her butt, her joints cracking from sitting down too long. When you first joined this mutant crew, you would have followed behind Jessi to comfort her. But, after months of running and fighting, you’ve learned that sometimes solitude is the best healing method.

4 MONTHS, 2 DAYS

“What makes you think you’re ready? That any of us are ready?”

Yoongi watches you with catlike eyes from where he sits at the kitchen table. The chairs circled around the battered wooden table are mismatched and in varying stages of deterioration from being abandoned for so long. The one Yoongi sits in is metal, and he leans on its two back legs, his right foot pressed to the floor to keep himself steady and his arms crossed against his chest.

Although Yoongi isn’t raising his voice - he never does - you still feel like you’re being scolded.

“I know we are,” you challenge him. Your voice is steady even as your fingers tremble. To stop them from shaking, you squeeze your hands into a fist, nails biting at the skin of your palms.

You should sit down, but holding your energy in is hard. Instead, you pace the kitchen while Yoongi’s cat eyes and Jessi’s wide ones follow you. You feel like a lion looping its cage, the desire to run restricted and confined.

“How?”

“We can’t stay here, Yoong! We can’t. I can’t.”

The front legs of Yoongi’s chair slam into the concrete floor. He allows the momentum to pull him forward, landing his elbows on the table’s surface.

Looking at Yoongi hurts. You can tell from his face that the next thing he says won’t be pleasant. His lips are pressed into a fine line that curves downward slightly. It’s cute how he can pull off a straight-lipped frown, but not when it’s directed at you.

It’s been at least an hour of back and forth between the three of you. Jessi tapped out a long time ago, resolved to watch the tennis match of an argument between you and Yoongi rather than exert energy on a fight she isn’t committed to. Yoongi and Jessi have the final say in all group decisions as the group's elders. It’s another reminder of how you think Yoongi sees you as someone to take care of rather than an equal.

“Have you ever killed someone before, Y/N?”

You pause your pacing to stand in front of the table. Yoongi is an exceptional cook, managing to create delicious meals out of what little you all have to work with from the forest. But now, at this moment, you feel like you’re going to be sick from the food churning in your stomach.

“No.”

“No,” Yoongi repeats. He speaks slowly, like he’s mulling your answer over, letting it twist around his tongue until he’s satisfied enough with its taste to swallow it down.

Leaning forward, Yoongi presses his palms against the table’s surface. He spreads his fingers and stares at them. The two of you seem to trace over the scars that line his skin, little nicks, and slices that healed light pink or blazing white. You’ve never seen Yoongi naked, but you have seen a good expanse of his body when you’ve used your Gift to help the others get clean. From what you’ve seen, you know Yoongi’s entire body is littered with battle scars.

“I have,” he admits what you already knew, and the gravelly sound of his voice makes you shudder. “Jungkook has.”

You wince at the mention of the younger man, but Yoongi doesn’t give you a chance to speak.

“Do you want to ask him what it’s like to squeeze the life out of another man? He may have done it with shadows, but I guarantee he still felt it in his hands.”

Yoongi lifts his eyes to yours when the first tear rolls down your cheek. Concern wrinkles his forehead.

“Yoongi,” you start, but the pink-haired man shakes his head.

“I don’t mean to upset you, kiddo.” The pet name twists your gut tighter with frustration - even though Yoongi’s voice is filled with gentle adoration when he calls out to you. “But I’ll be damned if I let us walk into that forest without knowing where we’re going or whose claws we’re running into. The Gifted Commune is, at best, a rumor. At worst - a trap.”

You want to tell him that falling for a rumor or getting caught by the government is better than sitting in a concrete cage. The prospect of finding a community of other Gifted runaways who have managed to create a society safe from the evils you’ve grown up with means more to you than the fear of the unknown.

There’s no use, though. Jessi is nodding along to Yoongi’s words; the blank expression she wears when she’s upset already masks her face.

“I will not put you in a situation where you must kill or be killed, Y/N. I won’t fucking do it.” Yoongi clears his throat suddenly, and he looks away from you. You’re unsure, but think he might be blinking back unshed tears.

You’re still pissed, but now your anger is mixed quite prettily with debilitating guilt. You’ve never seen Yoongi cry, and you realize with a sinking feeling that you really don’t want to.

“It’s too fucking risky,” Jessi finally speaks. She presses her fingers against her forehead, massaging it slowly as she, too, looks for words. “The radio is almost fixed; I can feel that it’s close. Then we will have a clearer line of communication with the Commune. It doesn’t guarantee anything, obviously, but it’s better than going in without fucking knowing anything.”

There’s nothing else to say. Yoongi doesn’t look at you or Jessi, instead staring at something in the opposite corner of the room.

Jessi gives you what you think is a smile laced with pity - or at least an apology.

How can everyone be so content to stay in the warehouse? You’re a bunch of sitting ducks, hiding out in the same location for months, practically waiting for the government to send their agents to either corral you into laboratories again or exterminate you. You don’t understand how becoming a moving target is a bad thing.

But, ultimately, you don’t understand why Yoongi can’t just trust you.

With a frustrated huff, you twist around to hurry out of the kitchen. As you cross the threshold, Namjoon appears in the doorway.

“Oh, I need to ask you-”

You don’t mean to shove Namjoon with your shoulder as hard as you do, but you don’t have the patience to comply with whatever he expects you to do for him. Probably more sparring and training.

On the one hand, sharing your identity as a water elemental with someone else in the group is an affirming experience. On the other, it’s infuriating because Namjoon sees your potential and pushes you toward it - even when you fight against him.

Namjoon sputters something, and you hear Jessi convince him to drop it. Whatever else they have to say is lost on you; you’re no longer interested in entertaining the conversations of the “leaders” of the group. Part of you wants to find Hoseok or Jungkook to force them to commiserate with you, but something about dumping your sludge of emotions onto them feels wrong.

So you do what you’ve always done best: you repress.

It isn’t until a few hours later when you’re lounging on your makeshift bed with the only tattered book you kept from your facility (Fahrenheit 451, how fitting), that you give yourself over to the gnawing need to interact with other humans.

Jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet, items that you can’t make out pressed against his chest.

“Will you cut my hair for me, noona?”

The out-of-use honorific flusters you, making your face burn under Jungkook’s attentive gaze.

“You don’t have to be so formal with me,” you insist, embarrassment ravaging your twisted stomach and fluttering chest. Something about the attention Jungkook gives you makes you feel nervous and giddy.

“It’s not very formal, really. It’s… respectful? I just… You are, it means,” Jungkook lets out a huff. He blows his bangs out of his face as his cheeks turn pink. “You are special to me.”

You duck your head, shocked by Jungkook’s honesty. It warms you in a way you’re not sure you understand, letting the feeling sit inside your chest rather than exploring it any further.

“Where I come from, we don’t have words like that.”

Jungkook gives you a shrug. Neither of you mentions that in Korea, those words don’t really exist anymore, either.

“But, okay,” you relent softly.

Jungkook stands beside the mess of blankets that make up your bed, holding a pair of scissors and electric clippers Jessi enhanced to operate on their own. Jungkook nicked them from a Red Pin on their way out of the research facility he’d grown up in. Hairstyling tools didn’t seem high on your list of items to steal, but they’d come in handy. Like now, with Jungkook’s bangs falling entirely into his eyes and his hair sweeping across his shoulders.

The pout Jungkook wears lessens slightly. He holds out the tools with an expectant look on his face. It’s cute how his bottom lip juts out, pink and chapped from nervously chewing on it. You’d overheard Namjoon scolding him for something earlier that morning before you went outside to patrol the grounds with Hoseok and Jessi.

Taking the items from Jungkook, you lead him out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. The lights sputter briefly before they fully brighten the small room. Jessi was excited to learn that her Gift extended to electricity as a whole, not just that within technology like computers and radios. With all your Gifts combined, the warehouse is liveable, almost comfortable.

Jungkook sits on the closed lid of the toilet, making you tower over him. He parts his legs slightly so you can stand between them as you run your fingers through his hair.

You spread your fingers and sweep his bangs up, exposing his forehead. It opens up his face more and makes him look older. Jungkook is handsome; there’s no denying that. You’re sure in another life, he could have been a regular college kid with a sweet girlfriend and a bright future.

“What would you like me to do?”

“Hmm?” Jungkook hums with his eyes closed, and his head tilted back slightly.

You don’t miss how he leans into your touch, completely pliable in your hands, as you massage his scalp and continue to play with his hair. It’s thick and soft, even without the proper haircare products to maintain the health of the follicles.

“How do you want me to cut it, silly?”

You reach for the hairbrush you keep tucked away in the bathroom cabinet. It takes a few more moments of silence while you brush out Jungkook’s waves before he finally speaks.

“Short. Cut it all off, please? It’s too hard to take care of now, and it gets in my face.”

“Don’t get mad at me if it comes out bad.”

Jungkook lets out a frustrated sound. “You always do a great job. You gave Yoongi hyung an undercut. It looks so good!”

At the mention of Yoongi, you feel your heart drop. Somehow you know Jungkook is here to make you feel better even if he hasn’t said anything about the argument, and he’s the one seeking your help, not the other way around. He’s a distraction - one you wonder if Yoongi sent himself.

It isn’t that Yoongi won’t apologize; you just never give him a chance to before you run off to lick your wounds on your own.

It’s the healing quality of solitude, you think as you prepare to cut Jungkook’s hair. However, this time, you’re not alone.

You can’t help but smile when Jungkook starts singing a song of his own creation as chunks of his hair fall to the floor. His song drowns out the static that buzzes in your brain like the fuzziness Jessi’s broken radio emits when anyone but her fiddles with it.

“This way,” you speak softly, not wanting to disrupt his singing as you press your fingertips against his jaw and under his chin to lift his face toward you. Your finger presses against the little mole just below Jungkook’s bottom lip. The angle gives you a better view of your work so far.

A small smile flickers on Jungkook’s face as though he’s trying to keep it down, but the corners of his mouth won’t listen to him.

“It feels nice. We don’t touch.”

You hum and nod your head, but Jungkook’s eyes are still closed. It’s true; kind touches are rare. Hoseok is really the only one who gives out hugs. Everything is tough all the time. There’s little room for gentleness, even amongst friends.

So you understand when Jungkook’s smile wins out, and he finally surrenders to the happiness your light touches along his jaw bring him.

4 MONTHS, 5 DAYS

It takes Yoongi three days to apologize.

Perhaps you should have apologized first, but you struggle to see how you could have done anything that warrants an apology. Yes, you feel bad for upsetting Yoongi, but his attitude toward you lately has rubbed you the wrong way.

During the three days it takes him to apologize to you, he seems to do his best to avoid you.

On the days you’re assigned to go on patrol with Yoongi, Jungkook accompanies you instead. You don’t mind having Jungkook by your side, you discover, even though you’re upset that Yoongi is behaving so childishly.

Neither Jungkook nor Yoongi talks much, but you learn that their silence feels different. Whereas Yoongi’s silence stems from feeling confident and content with not needing to fill the air with incessant babbling, Jungkook’s silence is awkward and heavy. He fiddles with the loose strings of his shirt, his reddened cuticles, and everything else. You don’t mind the awkwardness, though. It’s nice to comb through the woods with someone as powerful as Jungkook; you know there’s nothing to fear with him around.

The only weapon Jungkook carries is the knife strapped to his thigh. You, on the other hand, stay heavily armed. Your fingers tighten around your bow. When you twist your torso, the harness that holds your arrows digs into your shoulder. You also have a knife, though you are honestly afraid of close combat. A gun would be even better, but ammo is difficult to come by. It’s easier to collect your arrows after you’ve shot them, although you haven’t needed to yet. Since finding refuge at the warehouse, no one has discovered your group.

Apparently, all your friends are willing to keep testing fate. You aren’t interested in pushing your luck. Jungkook doesn’t comment on the group’s plans for moving forward - or lack thereof. Something tells you that he’ll do whatever Yoongi and Jessi tell him to do.

Still, going on patrol with Jungkook does a decent job of preventing your thoughts from straying toward your argument with Yoongi. Your hands brushed together a few times as you walked side by side, and you could practically feel Jungkook’s brain shortcircuit from the contact.

Part of you thinks he has a crush on you, but the more logical part of you knows he’s probably shy. The kid has gone through a lot in life. Not everything is always about you; you try to remind yourself. Yoongi doesn’t even want you. Why would Jungkook?

On the third day, bright doe eyes don’t greet you at the edge of the woods, just as the sun is kissing the sky for the first time. Instead, sharp cat eyes hold your gaze when you lightly jog over.

“Good morning, kiddo.”

Yoongi wears dark shorts with tattered edges cut from a pair of old jeans and a plain t-shirt the color of the forest in spring. It’s not warm enough to wear what he’s wearing, but fire elementals run hot like you run cold.

“Hi,” you say, voice a bit stunted as you hold your jacket tighter to your body.

You’ve foregone your bow and arrows today; you may or may not have snapped your bow in a fit of frustration that may or may not have anything to do with Yoongi ignoring you at dinner the night before. A knife and your Gift will have to do, but you feel it is enough. Namjoon insists on learning how to use your Gifts and weapons in tandem. For double the defense, or so he says.

Carrying a knife seems ridiculous when you know how to choke someone with their own spit without touching them.

Once you’re within arm’s reach, Yoongi offers his hand to you. He holds it as though he’s going in for a handshake. Yellow-orange fire licks at his palm and swirls in tendrils around his fingers and wrist.

After a few seconds of silence, he makes a slight grunting sound and wiggles his fingers, beckoning you.

It’s impossible not to cave. A prickly feeling tingles down your arm, beginning somewhere in your chest and eventually settling in your fingertips. A tiny hurricane of water stolen from the moisture in the air circles around your hand just as the fire does Yoongi’s.

He lets out a pleased sound when your palms glide across each other. You hook your thumbs together, using the momentum to spin your hands around until your fingers are interlaced and pressed into your palms. You both squeeze your hands once, twice, three times in a heartbeat before pulling away. By the end, the fire and water have disappeared.

When you meet Yoongi’s eyes, the warmth of the fire in his palm has transferred to his gaze. There is an apology in how you release each other’s hands. The handshake holds secret words of friendship and reassurance between you.

The two of you stand in silence for a bit until Yoongi tilts his head in the direction of the woods. You nod in response and follow Yoongi along one of the many patrol paths your group has established.

There’s never anything in the woods besides small animals like squirrels and rabbits, but everyone feels better knowing there is a consistent patrol of the area, just in case.

“So,” When you look at Yoongi, his lips twist into a light smirk you absolutely do not like. “You and Jungkook.”

“Me and Jungkook what?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Just seems like you two been hanging out a lot.”

“Yeah, because you were fucking ignoring me all week.”

His smirk drops into a stern frown, but Yoongi continues following the path. He walks slightly ahead of you with his hands clasped behind his back. It feels like he’s taking a leisurely stroll through a garden rather than going on patrol in the woods for government assassins.

“It was immature and irresponsible of me, and I’m sorry for that.”

Forgiving Yoongi is too easy. It’s the way the morning sun shines through the canopy of trees above you, casting streaks of light against his fading pink hair. The way he carries himself with confidence is gentle and comforting rather than arrogant or misplaced. It’s how he looks at you; you know he would do anything for you.

“It’s okay,” you finally concede. You scramble a bit to fall in line with Yoongi again. “I was being dramatic.”

“Life is one big drama, isn’t it?” Yoongi muses with a chuckle. It’s a question he doesn’t expect an answer to, which is good, considering you’ve got something else buzzing around in your head.

Well, fuck it. You’re just gonna say it.

Heart pounding, you eventually find it in you to say, “I still think you’re wrong.”

After a moment, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment of your admission but doesn’t offer anything else. It’s better than nothing, so you tell yourself to be content with all that he offers.

“Anyway…” You don’t want to drop the subject, but Yoongi’s question is nagging in the back of your brain now - a nagging question you now have a gnawing desire to know the meaning behind. “Me and Jungkook can hang out without it meaning-”

Before you can finish your statement, Yoongi slaps his hand against your mouth. The calluses on his palms are rough against your chapped lips, and his skin is sweaty. His free arm comes around to the front of your chest near your collarbones. He draws you against his chest so tightly you can’t move.

“Don’t talk.” His breath is hot against your face, and his voice is almost indiscernible.

You give a tiny nod before locking your body completely still. You hold your breath, straining to hear what Yoongi might hear or see what he might see. There’s nothing, just the usual sound of life in the woods - birds chirping, small animals scurrying in the brush. You don’t see anything either.

You can only focus on the frantic pounding of your heart and the calm beat of Yoongi’s against your back. How he can be so relaxed when he thinks there might be danger in the woods that you can’t even see is unreal.

Slowly, Yoongi takes a step back away from you. He holds a finger to his lips and silently mouths for you to stay where you are. Everything inside you screams to disobey as you watch Yoongi disappear further into the woods, the thick trees swallowing him whole.

But you don’t. You stay put, fear rooting you to the ground even though your body desperately wants to follow.

What lies beyond the thicket of trees? What is dangerous enough that Yoongi wants you to stay put but not so dangerous that he believes he can take it on alone?

Just when your resolve is about to crumble, something catches your attention out of the corner of your eye. Barely breathing, you turn your head to watch a dark spot glide across the forest floor. It’s two-dimensional, not an object but a presence creeping along the ground.

Suddenly, the spot grows. It spreads, turning its shape from a flat, uneven circle to a thing with tendrils sticking out of it, each new tendril moving independently. You gasp when one of the tendrils creeps up your leg. Despite being two-dimensional, you can feel the darkness. It’s firm and cold, like a snake slithering up your body.

Every inch of you trembles as the strange darkness slowly spreads across your body. You squeeze your eyes and hold your breath. Perhaps this is the thing that Yoongi saw, a phantom stalking the trees. But now you’re left behind to be absorbed into its darkness, eaten alive.

You’re startled when the cold disappears; instead, strong arms pull you against a firm chest. Warmth envelopes you, and when you open your eyes, you see familiar ones looking back at you.

“I got you,” Jungkook murmurs. He has you tucked under his chin, and he tilts his head down when he speaks to you. You shiver as his lips lightly brush against your forehead.

“Where did you-”

“Shhh.”

Jungkook’s heart isn’t steady like Yoongi’s had been. On the contrary, it’s beating rather furiously. You can hear him attempting to regulate his emotions, taking in mindful breaths and exhaling in a way that tickles your skin.

You don’t know how long you stand there pulled against Jungkook’s chest. After a while, your breathing matches his until you fall into a gentle rhythm that makes you sleepy. The adrenaline is making you crash, your body hardly strong enough to hold yourself up after panicking so severely - still panicking. Luckily, when you lean into Jungkook, his hold on you tightens.

In another situation, pressing your fronts together would have flooded your body with heat. You can feel all of Jungkook like this, from the bulging muscles of his chest to his thigh pressed slightly between your legs from how he holds you up. But fear of the unknown and Jungkook’s clearly distressed state prevent those other thoughts from materializing.

Jungkook’s body doesn’t relax until Yoongi appears around the corner of a large tree. He keeps his arms wrapped around you, and for a second, Yoongi looks around at the clearing you're in as though he can’t see you.

It isn’t until Jungkook lets go of you that recognition flashes in Yoongi’s eyes.

“There you are,” Yoongi murmurs to the two of you. He looks like he rolled around on the ground, little pieces of leaves and sticks caught in his hair and stuck to his clothes. His left knee is bleeding from a few superficial scrapes.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

Yoongi looks at Jungkook before he answers your question, which irritates you. “I tripped when I rushed in, but it was nothing. Just a large fox I heard making noise back there.”

A fox is likely the largest animal in the woods, with no bears or wolves in the area. Still, you don’t trust Yoongi. You can pick up on the charred smell coming off of him. He smells like a barbecue, which means only one thing…

“Have you been practicing turning yourself invisible?”

Jungkook ducks his head down but no longer has long bangs to hide his face. It takes a second for your brain to process Yoongi’s question - and the change in the topic - but Jungkook is already answering him by the time you figure it out.

“It’s not really invisibility,” he says softly. “It’s more like… an illusion.”

Yoongi hums and motions for the two of you to start walking. You’re returning to the warehouse, you realize, even though you only just started the patrol route.

“Yeah, I can… adjust the lighting, I guess? To make it seem like you can’t see me. Or, us, this time.”

Jungkook gives you a small smile when you whip around to look at him.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook repeats. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and wiggles it like he has more to say but doesn’t want to let it out just yet.

The three of you walk in silence until you reach the warehouse. When Yoongi walks ahead of you, you can tell he’s limping, even as he does his best to walk normally.

“He’s okay.”

Jungkook stands beside you in the field behind the warehouse, watching Yoongi reach the backdoor.

“He’s bleeding.”

Jungkook’s ears are pink when he responds, “He’ll be okay.”

“He’s lying to us.”

Jungkook absentmindedly runs his fingers along his bottom lip. It droops as he speaks through a pout. “Maybe. But I trust him, even if he is.”

It’s a strange thing to trust someone who is lying.

All you can do is nod. All you can do is accept that the people around you are doing what’s right because, aside from them, there is no one and nothing you can trust in the world.

As you approach the warehouse, Jungkook curls his fingers around your wrist to stop you. He watches you with the same wide-eyed look he gives everyone, though something about this time feels different. His expression is more open and vulnerable. He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to hurt him.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologizes softly.

“But you didn’t?”

Your eyebrows crease your forehead, trying to recall what you may have done to make Jungkook feel like you feared him. Sure, his sudden appearance in the woods was startling, but he’d brought you a feeling of comfort and safety - not fear.

Jungkook doesn’t correct you. Instead, he lets go of your wrist as shame warms his cheeks, but he doesn’t look away from you. The timidness is still there. You can see it in how he chews on his bottom lip. Still, his eyes take on a more guarded, hardened expression for a split second, and then…

He’s gone.

“What the fuck?” You mutter to yourself.

Now that you’ve seen the darkness before, your eyes quickly notice the spot on the ground that creeps and grows into odd shapes, slinking along the grass before taking form up your legs, curling around your arms.

It’s Jungkook. You knew it in the woods, somewhere deep down. Your fear for Yoongi’s safety - and your own - prevented you from processing the situation. But now, as the darkness envelopes you again, you know what to expect when you close your eyes and open them to see Jungkook’s broad chest as he crushes you against him.

“You never showed me before.”

Maybe it’s weird that you’re still clinging to each other, but Jungkook is warm and solid, and his heartbeat guides yours into a slower rhythm.

“That’s because it’s creepy.”

“Well, I think it’s cool. Even though, yeah, you kinda scared the shit outta me.”

Jungkook lets out an embarrassed whine and squeezes you tighter. You knew he could command shadows but hadn’t realized he could become one or move within them. Sure, the tornado trick he’d done a few times with Hoseok had been cool, but you’d always thought he was merely swirling the darkness around himself. You hadn’t realized he was the darkness.

Honestly, it made him all the more terrifying and equally as endearing.

“I just had this… feeling something bad was happening…” Jungkook whispers into your hair. “I needed to check.”

“Good thing it was only a fox.”

Jungkook nods in agreement; you know he believes it more than you do.

“I’m just happy you’re safe.” You can feel his cheek press against the top of your head for a moment before he finally releases you.

There’s a feeling there as Jungkook leads you to the warehouse. He laces his fingers with yours, and you can’t help but hear Yoongi’s question on a loop in your head.

You and Jungkook?

4 MONTHS, 3 WEEKS

“What if they think we’re the feds and feed us false information?”

“We’re too stupid to be the feds. It would be obvious.”

“I don’t know… we all escaped the government, so they must be pretty stupid.”

“What if they’re the feds?”

“Shit, I never thought about that.”

“They’re not the fucking feds.”

“How do you know that?!”

“Can all of you please just shut the fuck up?”

The six of you crowd around the radio on the kitchen table. Jessi shows you how to operate it, which flip to switch to activate the microphone, and how to adjust the volume. You’re all muted for now. When Hoseok goes to flip the switch, Jessi smacks his hand out of the way.

“Listen to me,” she says sternly, turning in her seat to get a good look at all of you. “No one talks.”

“But-”

“No one talks.”

Five heads nod at her command, including Yoongi, which feels very satisfying to you for some reason.

Details of the Gifted Commune somewhere beyond the woods traveled by word of mouth. Coordinates and radio frequencies were exchanged in hushed tones between the Gifteds who dared dream of a life beyond the Labs. You’re sad to admit that you were never one of those Gifteds. It wasn’t until Yoongi helped you escape that you even realized escaping was an option, so brainwashed into thinking the Labs were all you had. You were in a new country, stumbling through an unfamiliar language, taken from your family. Sure, you’d learned enough to get by over time - but missing your adolescent years made you feel hopeless.

Jessi is the only one who had communicated with the Commune leaders in the past when she and another Gifted managed to break into a control room in the Labs she came from.

That’s why she’s the one to speak into the radio that you find operates much like a long-distance walkie-talkie. You’re glad it’s not you. She introduces herself, her whereabouts, and her credentials with an even voice you know you could never replicate.

Despite the distrust you’re all afraid of, Jessi’s previous connection to the Commune makes it easy for her to request to speak to the Commune leader, a healer named Kim Taehyung.

Sitting with your fingers gripping the edge of the table so tightly your knuckles are beginning to ache, you lean forward as though you can get closer to the gentle voice that floats from the radio’s speakers.

Taehyung doesn’t sound anything like you’d imagined, though you aren’t sure what you were expecting, to be honest. Maybe someone with a rougher voice made harsh by the trials of life as a fugitive of the Republic. Instead, he’s soft as he asks Jessi how many there are of you and what your coordinates are. This man, already larger than life even though none of you knows what he looks like, is patient as he gives Jessi instructions on how to reach the Commune.

“I can assure you,” Taehyung speaks, and you don’t know what he’s about to say, but you find yourself already believing him, “You will be safe here. It won’t be a short trip.” That makes your gut twist, but you focus on his following words. “But there are abandoned shelters along the route to find refuge in. The nights get terribly cold.”

Namjoon scribbles some notes down on a worn piece of paper. It’s been written on and erased to add more notes over the months you’ve been at the warehouse since there are only a few pieces of paper between the six of you. There’s a small hole in the middle of the page where someone erased too hard - or too many times, you suppose.

“Thank you, Taehyung-ssi.”

The line is quiet for a moment. Jessi’s gaze shoots up to glare at Jungkook’s interruption, but Taehyung speaks before she can chastise the younger man.

“Anything for my dongsaeng,” the man on the other side of the radio states.

You don’t know him, so there is no way to tell if the subtle lilt to his voice indicates affection, but it seems like it as the two men use polite terms no one ever uses anymore. It’s old-fashioned and reminiscent of a time lost to all of you.

Jessi steers the conversation back to planning the group’s journey to the Commune. Excitement makes you jittery as you skip out of the kitchen, the men - aside from Yoongi - following after you. The boring stuff is what follows, and you’re all content to let the leaders discuss that stuff.

“Do you think we’ll be able to do it?” Hoseok clasps his hands together, occasionally squeezing them. When he speaks, he keeps his eyes on the closed kitchen door.

Namjoon shrugs at the same time you respond, “We have to.”

PART ONE - PART TWO

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #a spring offering collab #wtfgu

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ollie-lolly · 1 year

Note

Mind if I send another baby request (because I love the idea of these men with precious beans)? How would the Brothers/Dateables be if they had babies of their own? I just wanna know what kinda fathers all of them would be!💗💖

Thank you for the request! <3

Them as dads

warnings: none!

reblogs are appreciated!

Lucifer

-Will do that thing where he'll place the little ones feet on his, and hold their hands to help the baby learn to walk. TvT

-We now know that Lucifer is at least 10 million years old soooo.

-"He is more than daddy to me, he is like, he's like grandpa."

-Lets just say after being a mom dad to six he is desperately waiting for the baby stage to be over.

-He does not want to handle the little one too roughly, like with his more resilient brothers. So please help him out.

Mammon

-I can see him in front of a white board trying to explain the stock market and the baby is just there like :)

-He is super proud of his little one.

-He just holds his baby above his head sometimes like >:D

-I can see him buying a smaller version of his sunglasses and putting it on the baby.

-He uses the baby stroller as a place to store stolen things.

Leviathan

-Will take tons of pictures of the baby of any little cosplays he can find.

-Would use his tail like a baby carrier.

-I can see him holding the baby so they can see his figurines and he would go on and on who they are, from what show etc.

-Will watch childrens anime with the baby.

-Is scared for his life during the whole experience. So please try to keep calm, because he sure won't.

Satan

-Loves tucking it in bed.

-Please help him when his patience wears thin.

-Will bounce the baby on his lap while he is reading.

-Probably named the baby after a character in a book he liked.

-Will attempt to teach the baby complex topics, the baby has no idea what he is talking about but keeps listening anyway.

Asmodeus

-Will want to be around it 24/7.

-Will have tons of nicknames for the little one.

-Wants to dress it in so many outfits. ♡

-Customized and patterned diapers.

-Wine dad with Lucifer.

-Will often talk about his new dad life on social media.

Beelzebub

-Will have the little one on his shoulder at all times.

-Please be with him when he feeds the baby, because what is stopping him from eating the baby food.

-Looks really intimidating when he picks the little one up from daycare.

-Will gently use it as a weight when exercising.

Belphegor

-Will want to sleep with it for hours.

-It is so bad to the point that he has trouble falling asleep without his precious baby.

-He loves how warm the baby is.

-He has the little bassinet hanging above your shared bed, so he can check on the baby anytime.

-Beel essentially takes care of it with him.

Diavolo

-Will have a baby carrier on 24/7

-He will be walking in the halls of RAD and the baby is just: :D

-Will gain a lot of popularity with students because of the happy baby.

-The baby will most likely inherit Diavolo's adorable smile.

-Would spoil it with the most expensive gifts much to Barbatos' dismay.

Barbatos

-Will take time off to love and appreciate the little one.

-Handles the worst parts of babyhood great.

-Would love to teach you the techniques regarding childcare.

-Diavolo would beg Barbatos often to bring his butler's baby to work.

Simeon

-Somehow always knows why the baby is crying.

-Will insist on you resting while he takes care of the baby.

-Looks so angelic when he holds the baby.

-Simeon is always smiling when he gets to be with his baby.

-Luke loves to take care of the baby with him.

Solomon

-Will dress it in a wizard costume and post "My new apprentice"

-Please don't let him feed it.

-He does not realize how dangerous his house is.

-Next thing you know, the baby has his hands on a wand and almost destroys Solomon's house.

-Lets just say there needed to be A LOT of baby proofing.

-In the meantime, Solomon had to use a spell to make the baby float.

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sky-is-the-limit · 5 months

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Realistic König Headcanons bc I love him so much <3

• He would definitely steal all your plushies so he could smell you at night while cuddling with them in his Hello Kitty pajamas:(

• He'd always put on a Disney film after killing a bunch of people to forget about it as well as sing along to Let It Go (Elsa is his fav)

• He would ask you to tuck him in at night and read him a bedtime story to make the demons go away:(

• König would be the type to say "kiss my booboo" after getting shot cause he's so fragile and precious.

• He would call you so many pet names in German like his little Schnitzel Volkswagen<3

• He'd definitely ask you to hold his hand whenever he'd have to step out of the house bc of his social anxiety, poor baby would have panic attacks whenever Jehovah's Witnesses would pull up.

• If you'd touch his balaclava, he'd break down crying like the smol precious bean he is because you mean so much to him, and he doesn't want to scare you away:(

• He'd love the colour pink and would let you decorate his uniform with sparkly patches before going off to commit war crimes<3

• His bestie, Ghost (shh doesn't matter that realistically they'd be enemies and Simon would dust his ass into the next dimension) would come over to bake cookies and sell them to raise money for a local charity <3

• He'd be Price's favourite child, golden 141 member and they'd have to kick Gaz out to make room for his 7'8 little body<3

• He was really into art when he was a kid but they didn't accept him into art school:(

#my laptop broke down as i was writing my Gaz fic and it didn’t save and now i have to start all over and I'm still sick fffssss #I'm bored #cod #call of duty #könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig smut #könig x you #cod x reader #cod x you #cod smut #simon ghost riley #ghost smut #captain price #john soap mactavish

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sumi-sprite · 4 months

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This is entirely @wisp-of-chaos's fault. They got me into the idea of Illithid babies, specifically their OC Vlassk with baby Omeluum. If I have to suffer the cuteness overload and brainrot, THEN SO DO YOU ALL.

Under the cut due to length!

IMAGE TEXT:

1.) Born partially blind and know their parent of guardian by their psionic signature, touch, and smell. Their vision will gradually adjust over ten to fifteen weeks of age.

2.) Self soothing: Newborns are prone to suckling on their own tentacles!

3.) Internal yolk. A newborn Illithid will "nurse" on its parent's psionic energy for the first six to eight weeks of life before adjusting to a semi-solid diet.

4.) Cranium bones are still soft and not yet fully fused. This makes the birth easier for not just the parent, but the child as well, whose delicate brain can be easily damaged until the skull hardens.

5.) Limbs are soft and extremely weak. It takes months for a newborn to learn how to fully use its limbs, with their tentacles being the first to gain full mobility and dexterity.

6.) Claws are not yet developed. Fingers and toes and very soft and delicate and may be prone to injury if the parent is not careful. Grip strength is extremely weak compared to the tentacles.

BOTTOM TEXT: Extremely soft and fragile, but frighteningly intelligent and curious. Newborn Illithids may gain a higher vocabulary in under a year if they are cared for properly and fed a rich diet of sapient brain mush. At roughly a year of age, they can be given cut pieces of intact brain. After eighteen months, they are big enough to eat a whole half brain. They are able to walk, speak, and levitate around two years.

Other HCs not included due to limited space:

juvenile marks and spots vanish over time.

newborns cannot lift their own heads for at least five months due to the size and weight of their own brains.

teething. Newborn teeth come in at around ten months of age, then shed them at two years, gaining juvenile teeth. These fall out at five years old and they gain their first sub-adult set.

the internal yolk is visible until the newborn fully absorbs it and moves onto brain mush. The translucency of its belly also becomes opaque over their first year of life.

Newborns are entirely reliant on their parent or caretakers for the first two years of their life due to their weak muscle and delicate bone structures. Their fragility makes them precious to a colony, and they take almost as much precedence as an Elder Brain.

I don't know, I just thought this was fricken adorable and like I said, entirely Wisp's fault. I need baby Omeluum in my life being a curious and extra squishy little bean that can't stop putting things in its mouth and is ENAMORED by glowing mushrooms.

It's HC hobbies include extra long naps, chewing its own tentacles, chewing Vlassk's tentacles/hands, getting into places it shouldn't, wearing cookware, naps in its sling and/or Vlassk's tendrils, touching EVERYTHING, watching small critters, and contemplating the mystery of mirrors.

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shares-a-vest · 4 months

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@steddiemas Day 19: Steddie as Dads (Trope Tuesday)

wc: 1.4k | Rated: T for suggestive language and flirtatious banter | cw: Eddie is trans in my Joanie Munson AU and gave birth to Joanie. This fic contains one mention of pregnancy and the possibility of having a baby.

Tags: Steddie Dads, Trans Eddie Munson, Growing Family, Getting Interrupted, Christmas Night, Christmas Presents, Kid Fic

Note: I knew Joanie's Furby would have to make a reappearance after I wrote THIS drabble for Black Friday. Also, I started drafting this fic for Day 3 (Needing to be Quiet) but it ran away from me so it has aspects of that prompt too.

Christmas Night, 1998

“Okay…” Eddie sing-songs, stirring Steve from his very sleepy post-Christmas state on the couch, “Our precious bean is asleep… The old man is in a food-induced coma…”

He skips to the couch and flops down, mussing their makeshift bedding.

“Huh?” Steve mumbles, looking up to find a mischievous grin painted across his partner’s face.

He should have known Eddie was up to something with their sleeping arrangements. He had insisted they spend Christmas Night on Wayne’s couch, giving up the bed in Eddie’s old room to Joanie for the evening.

As Eddie continues grinning like an idiot – and adds a wiggling, suggestive brow for good measure – Steve attempts to smooth out their blankets. He shimmies upright, yawning as he yanks at the corner of the blanket trapped beneath Eddie’s ass.

“Nope!” Eddie says, chopping his hand through the air, “No yawning, sugarplum.”

He dives for the remote teetering on the edge of the coffee table and points it at the television, reducing It’s a Wonderful Life to a quickly fading speck in the middle of the screen.

“Jimmy Stewart, off!” he declares, voice high and nasally in mock impersonation as he tosses the remote to the side.

With the living room lit only by the lights of Wayne’s Christmas tree (decorated the moment they arrived with Joanie), Steve feels his eyes droop.

He scrubs a hand down his tired face, his unstyled hair flopping forward as he does so. Eddie is soon on him, combing it back before picking at individual strands like a monkey looking for fleas.

“How are you not tired?” Steve whines, dipping his head to avoid more prodding.

But Eddie then reaches to remove his glasses.

“Christmas adrenaline, sweetheart,” he explains, carefully folding the glasses and setting them on the coffee table within reach.

Eddie leans back again, elbow propped on the couch, his chin resting against his hand enough that it squishes up his cheek.

“The Furby was a hit,” he continues, his teasing dimples out on full display now.

“Please don’t talk about it,” Steve grumbles, sinking into the couch at the thought of Joanie’s newest toy, now out of the box and operational, ready to wreak havoc.

He can only imagine the reaction the cats will have to those soulless eyes when they get the retched thing back home…

“It’s cute,” Eddie shrugs, not at all innocently picking at the bottom hem of Steve’s flannel button-up, a Munson family relic turned pyjama top.

“It looks like a Gremlin,” he deadpans, “Ready to chew our faces off with that weird robot beak.”

He hopes his frown will also remind Eddie that if said demon-spawn does rise up against them, he can be the one fully responsible for dealing with it. And, now that he thinks about it, Steve is sure Eddie allowing their daughter to watch Gremlins at Halloween surely contributed to her desire to obtain this year’s latest kids' craze.

As they glare at each other, Steve holds onto some hope that Eddie (might) think back to that sleepless Halloween night when Joanie woke up at 2 am in tears and thought Ozzy’s prowling in the shadows was an evil after-midnight Mowgai.

“And where is it now?” Steve asks, breaking their seated stand-off.

“Tucked under the covers with our precious Joanie-Bear,” Eddie says, dramatically closing his eyes with a chirpy hum.

Again – Gremlin!

Steve bites his tongue as Eddie opens his eyes again, those big brown orbs now glowing with mirth like a warmer, more cherubic (but equally devilish) version of their five-year-old’s prized Christmas present.

Eddie clicks his tongue, looking everywhere but directly at Steve as he fidgets with a handful of blankets, entirely conspicuous as he buzzes with clear anticipation.

Steve puffs out a laugh and shakes his head. As always, Eddie has other plans for their ‘quiet’ night in…

“What?” Eddie asks, catching him staring.

He tilts his head to the side like a curious puppy.

“I love you,” Steve replies, leaning into his side.

He looks at the Christmas tree as Eddie presses a featherlight kiss to his forehead.

But the sweet moment only lasts for a split second because, in a flash, Eddie flips back their bedding, the blanket half falling to the floor between the couch and the coffee table.

“Good,” he grins, swinging his leg over Steve’s lap to straddle him, bracketing his legs, “Put a baby in me.”

“Ed!” Steve splutters, frowning as Eddie claps a hand over his mouth to shush him.

“Quiet!” he stage-whispers.

“You be quiet,” Steve warns, smiling into his palm.

“Made you perk up, didn’t it?” Eddie teases, leaning back to look him over and they both giggle away, “Anyway, come on, tick-tick. Christmas miracle, all that shit...”

He hurriedly jabs into his shoulder.

“Need I remind you we are in your uncle’s living room?”

“We’ve done worse,” Eddie offers, raking his eyes over him, “Remember Thanksgiving 1989 when – ”

“ – We boned in Claudia’s powder room,” he finishes, nodding.

Eddie looks off into the distance – or perhaps just right behind them to the wood panelling. He sighs, all wistful and longing.

“Yeah,” he hums, “And you knocked Claudia’s good handtowel straight off the rack and into the toilet…”

Steve leans back and cocks his chin. Well, if Eddie isn’t going to be subtle about it, either...

“Take your pants off, baby.”

Eddie beams and gives a two-finger salute. He quickly begins shuffling about, lifting onto his knees so he can hook his fingers under the waistband of his black sweatpants and pull them down. Meanwhile, Steve lifts their blanket up and out to protect Eddie’s modesty.

Or, at least that’s what he intends to do. Eddie only gets his pants down to his knees when Steve catches Wayne’s bedroom door opening.

Eddie notices too and yelps, plopping back down onto Steve’s lap – hard.

“Don’t mind me,” Wayne says, walking along with the stiff gait of a man with a bad hip (one that he still won’t do a thing about), “Just goin’ to take a leak. My bladder isn’t what it used to be. The older you get, the weaker your bladder...”

“Can you please stop saying the word ‘bladder’!” Eddie squawks over his shoulder, but his uncle simply waves him away.

“I didn’t see nothin’!” Wayne grumbles, “Carry on.”

Eddie rolls his eyes as they both watch in awkward silence as Wayne disappears into the bathroom, a light soon cascading from it.

“Christmas sucks!” Eddie dry-sobs, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder with a disgruntled ‘hmph’.

“Just wait a minute,” he whispers, wrapping the blanket tight around Eddie’s partial nakedness.

Steve moves to give him a reassuring kiss but Eddie gasps, stilling on his lap as his eyes grow wide as saucers.

“What the fuck was that?” he gulps, his voice at full volume.

Eddie jolts again, his hands flying up to grip Steve’s shoulders tight, giving him no choice but to hold onto for dear life – even if he has no clue what’s got him so rattled…

“I can’t hear anything,” Steve says, looking around as his heart quickens.

Eddie scoffs and claws at a lock of his hair, just behind his right ear.

“God damn it, Stevie!” he spits, his head on a swivel as he whips it from side to side, likely looking for Steve’s abandoned hearing aids.

Steve is about to point to the end of the coffee table and thus ignite a squabbling match about it when Wayne reappears from the bathroom.

“What in the heck is that sound?” he grumbles.

“What is it?” Steve demands, looking between the other two.

“Some…” Wayne says, tilting his head in search of the sound, “Machine…”

Steve moves his head about to dodge Eddie as he squirms around in his lap, muttering what he can only assume is a string of expletives as he attempts to search for the noise too without straining his back or exposing himself.

“Damn it, Eddie,” Steve snaps, lifting his partner when he suspects he is about to get kneed straight in the goddamn balls.

“Jesus Christ, darlin’!” Wayne exclaims, bringing a hand to his chest.

Steve finally manages a glance over Eddie’s shoulder to find Joanie standing just inside the living room, her small frame silhouetted by the bathroom light.

She’s holding something with big eyes that appear to be blinking.

Now Steve can hear the robotic snoring sounds that have half the household scared out of their minds.

“Don’t worry, Pa,” Joanie says, stepping forward and holding up her Christmas present, “It’s just my Furby.”

More of Joanie Munson

#the furby WILL return...#i'm low-key super proud of my furby banner 😂#steddiemas #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #lily writes a fic #steddie as girl-dads #steddie dads #cw pregnancy #idk i've worked on this one a bunch and i'm still kinda not happy with it

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donutwatches · 3 months

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MHA 2.17 - Climax - part 3

This is my first watch of MHA, so no spoilers please.

This is me every single day of my life. Why do I relate to this anime Grandpa?

From Gran Dorito's perspective he looked away from Midoriya for one moment, and when he saw Midoriya again he was dragging a wanted criminal out of an alleyway with a rope.

Yeah, an apology is warranted here, but I hope Iida doesn't beat himself up too much over it. He made some understandable mistakes. I trust Iida to learn the right lessons from this experience.

If a villain injured my older brother to the point of permanently paralyzing him, I would hunt them down and make them regret it too. But I guess heroes in training have to hold themselves to a higher standard. Iida did not react like a hero, he reacted like a human, and I think that is a forgivable misstep.

What a sweetheart. Deku really embodied both 'hero' and 'human' qualities during this arc. He is moved by wanting to save people as a hero should, but also by the personal need to be there for his friends. What a precious green bean.

Blunt, but it made me laugh so hard. I feel like you need both types of support in your life, the kind of friend who will be soft with you, and the kind of friend who will tell you to pull it together and carry on.

OMG A BABY SNATCHER. UNHAND THE BABY YOU PTERODACTYL LOOKING REJECT.

OooOOoooOoh, Stain saved Deku? As much as I think Stain's ideology is whack, it is kind of a big deal for him to accept Deku as a worthy hero, isn't it?

The blood red moon, the glowing eyes, the majestic floating scarf, edgy arm bandages, and that crusty turtle-esque visage. The man certainly has an aesthetic (one that came out of a Spirit Halloween dumpster).

By murdering heroes that he arbitrarily decides he doesn't like. Better watch out hero society! Miss Staingina George is going to put you in his 'Burn Book' of loser heroes.

DID HE DIE?

Click here for episode 18

Click here for the masterlist

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #izuku midoriya #boku no hero academia #anime #deku #midoriya #tenya iida #iida #stain #hero killer stain #shouto todoroki #shoto todoroki #todoroki #gran torino

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nifreti-ii · 4 months

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(forgot somethings so I went back and edited it T-T)

Found the culprit

I love the idea of him just sneaking around and eating all the snacks, MC/Keith being sus and then MC finds him shoving his face with the cookies in the middle of the night. (most nocturnal creatures have reflective eyes, also thought he’d look cute with them :3)

OMFG Keith and Tenebris have me in a chokehold, im down BAD. I cant express how much i enjoyed the game, kinda hate myself for not getting here sooner lol. OOOH They’re just so precious (T▽T). I wanna hold, I wanna kiss, I wanna EVERYTHING. Aaaaah and the little dates in the game ugh. So fucking cute when Tenebris blushes and how his tough guy act drops with the smallest hint of affection ehehehe. AND KEITH, the plant boy of my dream~ 100% can listen to this man rant about his flowers and plant babies for hours askdjghaj-

And the LOOOOOORE in the blog, holy shit. The sponge that is my brain is soaking everything up. Gods all these yandere vns getting me invested T0T. I MIGHT do a little something something with tenten (my night ehehe) im tempted. I am gonna draw Keith eventually, the precious dahlia needs attention too (｀∀´)

Ever since the recent update I’ve reading EVERY SINGLE POST in the blog. I’ve finished reading EVERYTHING and uuuuh ya… I'm invested in the sillies. @duality You have made very simpable and loveable beans (I also really love your art style) <3 (post script- drawing simon from clrdgaze has made drawing ANY hairstyle not nearly as painful ヽ(；▽；)ノ)

Check out my Masterlist for my art and writing. ;3

#digital art #fanart #my art #digital drawing #art #my fanart #yandere #digital fanart #duality game #duality tenebris #dating sim #visual novel #duality vn #im down bad...

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lifeandlies-of-regulusblack · 11 months

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Random Regulus Black Headcanons

To everyone: Regulus "grumpy cloud" Black

To Sirius pt.1: Regulus "little gremlin" Black *fondly*

To Sirius pt.2: Regulus "vile, snotty, snobby, little gremlin" Black *derogatory*

(regulus doesn't know the difference between the two and sirius likes to keep it that way)

To James: Regulus "my precious little raisin" Black

To Walburga: Regulus "oogy woogie baby boo boo" Black

*cue sirius gagging 🤢*

To Barty: Regulus "cum sock" Black *fondly, jokingly*

To Barty: Regulus Black *derogatory*

☕ Regulus and coffee ☕

Regulus puts tea drinking on an unnecessarily high pedestal — an arbitrary sign of civilisation. You know, rich people and their bullshit. But he's a fucking insomniac and tea has never once worked for him.

Regulus will guzzle coffee down til he gains function and lucidity, while people watch in growing horror as he tries to deepthroat a coffee pot. No, he doesn't care for the logistics.

What are you talking about? That wasn't him.

"Ugh. Seriously, Rosier. Show a little bit of decorum won't you? I can smell your 'peasant's drink' all the way from here." *Sips from his teacup* "Surely, your family coffers are doing alright? Are they not?" *He asks Evan, as his friend drinks from a cup of freshly brewed Saint Helena beans*

He secretly pours himself a cup after Evan leaves a coffee pot with still steaming coffee. This goes on for the rest of the term. Regulus wonders why he's so wasteful with it. Oh well, more for him.

Evan knowingly brews a surplus of coffee for regulus. His friend is a glaring hypocrite and with self image issues. No one listens to regulus when he's being delusional.

For more Regulus Black lore, click here.

PLEASE consider giving me a reblog if you enjoyed this :3 of you did, then someone else might like it too! this gets my writing to people who may like the things i write ~

#regulus black #regulus headcanon #sirius and regulus #slytherin skittles #dead gay wizards #sirius black and regulus black #padfoot #the black brothers #black brothers #marauders era #jegulus #hp marauders #regulus black is unwell #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #barty headcanon #bartylus #starchaser #my writing

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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Anonymous: do you think you could write something like y/n walking through the village on there own and then finds a toddler or a little kid with no parents and then proceeds to tell the kid that y/n and alcina will take care of it (<3 ur writing)

Aww, this is cute! Sorry, this has jumped to the top of my request list. Let’s get into it!

Y/N: *Walking around in the village, goofing off* What a great day! Nothing to do but chill. I-

Y/N: *Sees a toddler sitting by herself against a fencepost, decides to investigate* What’s up, little bit? *Kneels down next to her*

The toddler: *Teary-eyed, sniffling up at Y/N* No Mama, no Dada. Where go? *Starts crying*

Y/N: *Feels their heart shatter at seeing the tiny bean so upset* D-don’t cry, short stuff! We’ll find them! Did you lose them?

The toddler: *Shakes her head* They lef’ me… *Crosses her arms, furrows her brows*

Y/N: *Alarmed* They left you on purpose?!

The toddler: *Nods her head*

Y/N: *Pissed as hell, gently holds their hands out to pick the toddler up* Can I hold you? I’ll take you somewhere nice and warm with yummy food!

The toddler: *Eyes brighten, smiles, makes grabby hands at Y/N* Yeah!

Y/N: *Cheers and picks up the toddler, making her giggle* What’s your name? *Starts walking with her back to the castle*

The toddler: *Snuggles into Y/N, laughing* Eliza!

Y/N: *Starts laughing too* I like that name! I’m Y/N!

Y/N and Eliza: *Happily chatting back and forth, make their way to the castle*

Y/N and Eliza: *Get to the castle door*

Eliza: *Eyes wide* A queen live in here, Y/N?!

Y/N: *Busts out laughing, playfully mutters under their breath* She thinks she’s a queen… (She is, Y/N. Fight me.)

Y/N and Eliza: *Go inside*

Y/N: Babe! I got something for you!

Alcina: *Walks in* Draga! I thought you were going to spend the day in the-

Alcina: *Sees Eliza, has cuteness overload* A baby! How precious! *Leans down and holds out her hands to Eliza*

Eliza: *No fool, recognizes Alcina’s cuddle potential, runs into her arms*

Y/N: I found her in the village! *Whispers to Alcina* Her parents abandoned her.

Alcina: *Outraged, reins it in because she doesn’t want to scare Eliza* What’s your name, little one?

Eliza: *Smooshed into Alcina’s front, giggling* Eliza!

Alcina: The perfect addition to my collection!

Y/N: … Collection?

Alcina: *Kissing Eliza’s head* Yes! Daughters named alphabetically!

Y/N: Weird way to describe your daughters, but okay. *Thinks* Wait! We can keep her?!

Alcina: Absolutely! *Smiles down at Eliza* We’ll have lots of fun, won’t we, darling?

Eliza: Yeah!

Y/N: Great! I’ll lay down some newspaper for her in the kitchen! She’ll need a food and water bowl too! Oh, and a collar!

Alcina: Wait, Y/N. She’s not a pet-

Y/N: Alci, you can clean up after her and take her for walks! I’ll do the fun stuff, like giving her treats and teaching her tricks!

Alcina and Eliza: *Look at each other, confused by Y/N*

Y/N: *Walks off, rambling stupid ideas* Should she eat dry food or wet food? Maybe she needs a cat tree to climb on?

Alcina: …

Eliza: …

Alcina: Y/N means well, little one. *Rolls her eyes*

Alcina: Welcome home, my love.

Alcina and Eliza: *Snuggle*

Note: So fun to write! I love this idea!

Masterlist

#re8 #re8 village #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x y/n #re8 shitpost #y/n is stupid #re8 incorrect quotes

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