#AND STOP LETTING YOUR IN TACT CATS OUT ESPECIALLY

[venacoeurva]

We have ANOTHER random cat at our house but instead of someone's outdoor cats (for shame but aside from that they're healthy and behave and show no signs of fighting or killing anything around here) that the other ones are, this dude just seems lost? Like he got out and has no idea where he is? And he enjoys yelling, my god does he like yelling

[kxsagi]

Hi, newbie here! Can we get a scenario where Sae is crushing on his new manager and is trying to let her know in his own tsundere kuudere way. But unfortunately for him, reader is too intimidated and somewhat scared of him to read his actions as trying to spend more alone time with her. Instead she sees it as him singling her out and trying to catch her into making a mistake so that he could get rid of her.

Like asking her what they should get for dinner, to Sae he's asking her on a dinner date (just without the asking part) to reader it's "if I choose a non satisfactory and unhealthy dinner my job is done for". But when they finally started properly talking to each other, it all worked out in the end.

“𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥”

a/n: OH THIS TROPE IS SO CUTE

thank you for being so detailed!!! 

it started with the glances. the occasional ones from across the room when no one else was watching. sae itoshi didn’t do unnecessary eye contact, not during training, not during meetings, and especially not with strangers. but ever since you were hired as the new team manager, he’d been glancing. subtly, barely perceptibly, in the way cats watch birds. curious, silent, unreadable. 

and you? you were terrified. 

not of the job, you were perfectly qualified. not of the team, most of the players were friendly, maybe even too friendly. but sae itoshi? the prodigy midfielder with a stare cold enough to solidify oxygen? he scared the living daylights out of you. 

you’d seen him get benched once for muttering "if we’re playing like amateurs, i’d rather not play at all." and he hadn’t even raised his voice. he didn’t need to. his apathy alone could level a man. 

so when he started singling you out, you knew something was wrong. 

“hey. you.” 

you froze, clipboard clutched like a shield. "... yes?" 

he was standing too close. not that close, but close enough that you could smell expensive shampoo and inevitable disappointment. he tilted his head toward the hallway. 

“we’re going to get food. you’re coming.” 

you blinked. “why me?” 

“you’re the manager, aren’t you?” 

“i-is that a test? like a secret team-building task? am i supposed to calculate everyone’s macros on the go? because i can do that! i just, uh, i didn’t bring my tablet, so–” 

“geez. no.” he sighed. “just dinner.” 

which, to sae, meant: i want to have dinner with you. 

but to you? it sounded like: this is your final chance to not screw up dinner or your job. 

so you ended up spending the entire meal calculating protein-to-carb ratios while eating like a prisoner. sae ordered sushi. you ordered a plain chicken breast and asked the waiter if the dressing was low sodium. 

sae stared at you. “you think i’m going to fire you over salad?” 

you choked. “am i not?” 

he sighed again, but this time there was a hint of disbelief. was she serious? 

“look. i don’t usually ask people to eat with me. you’d know that if you stopped looking like i was going to eat you.” 

“... i-i don’t think that.” 

“you flinch every time i breathe near you.” 

“that’s an exaggeration.” 

he leaned in. “then why are you flinching now?” 

you flinched. he stared at you. you shriveled. 

the thing about sae itoshi was that he had all the romantic tact of a brick wall. his version of flirting included asking what shoes you were wearing and then staring at them for too long. his idea of small talk was: 

“you didn’t eat breakfast.” 

“how did you know?” 

“you looked weaker than usual.” 

or: 

“stop looking so tired.” 

“... i’m just sleepy...” 

“so go sleep. you look pathetic.” 

but when you left a snack on his desk the next day, he stared at it like you’d proposed. a protein bar, carefully chosen, high in BCAAs. he stared at the wrapper, then at you, like he was seeing sunlight for the first time. 

“you got this for me?” 

“yes?” 

“it’s not poisoned?” 

“no?” 

he paused. then muttered, “thanks,” in a voice so soft it could be mistaken for wind. 

you blinked. he didn’t kill you. didn’t even scowl. just took the bar and walked away like he hadn’t just melted internally. 

and you? you started thinking. maybe… maybe he didn’t hate you. 

it all came to a head one night after practice. 

you were staying late to reorganize the locker inventory. as usual, sae lingered. he always did. claimed he was “just watching tape,” but he never watched anything. just stood there, leaning on the wall, eyes occasionally drifting to you, lips twitching like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t be bothered to form a sentence. 

“what?” you finally asked, not looking up from your clipboard. 

“you’re staying late again.” 

“yeah.” 

“you don’t have to.” 

“someone’s gotta do it.” 

silence. 

“… you’re annoying,” he said. 

you glanced up. 

he was staring at the floor. “you think i’m trying to fire you or something. you think everything i do is a test.” 

“because it feels like it...” 

“it’s not.” 

he looked at you, eyes tired but honest. “i like you.” 

your brain short-circuited. “like, as a manager?” 

“no. not as a manager.” 

“… like, as a person?” 

“gosh, do i have to spell it out?” 

you blinked. “… yes?” 

he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, cheeks tinged ever so slightly pink. “i’ve been trying to ask you out for two weeks.” 

“by criticizing my lunch choices and calling me pathetic?” 

“by spending time with you,” he deadpanned. “i don’t do that with just anyone.” 

you stared at him. he looked away. 

“… but if you don’t want to, i get it. i’m not good at this.” 

you paused. then laughed. loud, sharp, slightly hysterical. “oh my gosh. i thought you were stalking me into HR material.” 

he blinked. you added, “i would’ve just said yes if you were normal about it.” 

he raised an eyebrow. “and you’re calling me not normal?” 

you grinned. it was the first time you smiled at him without fear. “so what’s for dinner, then?” you teased. 

he blinked again. then smirked, eyes soft for once. 

“anything but salad.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[skeletonh0e]

hello! i was wondering if you could do an imagine of the boys with a workaholic reader? your choice of skeletons!

love your work btw :D

Thank you so much, sorry this took a bit, life has been hectic! I decided to do a draw the names outta a hat trick and narrow it down to just four, you got....

Killer, Red, Classic annnnnnd Ace!

You work too much ft, some of the boys.

Classic Sans:

Lazy x Workaholic, interesting dynamic

But honestly, he gets it. He works a lot too (not really). You've seen all the jobs he has right?

Here's the thing about that though, the more you work, the more breaks you get.

In others words....

Rest.

There is some tough love here, he'll always start off to gently tell you "hey relax" and when that doesn't work a bit more firmer of "relax or i will make you"

How will he do that?

Flopping onto you like a cat, putting all of his weight onto you (possibly even using gravity magic) and making it impossible to do anything.

He's grinning like a dumbass the entire time too, sorry, he loves you too much to let you stress yourself out silly.

Like he can fully respect that you are a naturally hard working person, after all he's gotten deep into some passion projects back in the day. A part of him honestly admires it, but he's never going to let it go too far.

And he has his methods of getting you to relax, aside from just laying onto of you, he'll hide your keys so you HAVE to call in from work, conveniently whatever you were working on is already finished, etc, etc.

It almost becomes a game, especially if you ever try to find workarounds to all the things mentioned above.

It's all silly but he loves you, don't stress yourself out please.

Underfell Sans:

Kinda does what Classic does but like....far far less tactful about it.

Will just grab you while you're working, drag you off somewhere like, "we're doing something fun, get yer' shit"

And suddenly just like that you're on break

Red is like very blunt, crude and yeah kinda mean, that tough love with Classic is doubled here.

"if you stay up any later you will get bags under your eyes and i don't want my s/o lookin' like shit" type beat

He means well, but yeah

He's a certified lazy fuck as you'd expect with any Sans, while there might be some form of admiration he doesn't get why anyone would willingly overwork themselves. Especially if it was a very demanding job

Also isn't he more fun? Don't you wanna spend more time with him? Huh? (he's not saying that because he wants to spend more time with tho-)

Will snatch your laptop, book, phone, etc to get you to stop.

Especially if work tries to call you in on a day off, full blown grabs the phone, tells your boss you're busy, then hangs up

Looks at you like "what?" afterwards, he did nothing wrong, you are busy.

Will also fucking lay on you to distract you

Unlike Classic he's a lot heavier tho so F in the chat there

Killer Sans:

You'll be buried in work then suddenly you have a knife placed right against your neck, not with enough pressure to hurt you but with enough to make you realize that it's definitely there.

How did he get into your house? How long has he been there? Who knows but he's come to give you a very important demand

"Rest. Now."

Will he actually hurt you? Unclear. I wouldn't push it though.

Like, he can respect the hustle but he does NOT like the idea of work taking advantage of you

Especially when he has his own shitty boss he has to deal with (we all know who)

So very aggressive forms of love here

Totally 100% threatens your boss into giving you more days off and insisting he make sure you're actually taking mandated breaks. Might even find a way to get you a raise or two

He got you boo!

Will also just drag you away from whatever you're working on to do something else, except it's basically a mini jump scare especially since he just appears outta nowhere.

However he can't really judge too much since he is also working a lot not willingly mind you, but still.

Will chill a bit if you assure him you're not being forced, that you do like working, etc. But not by that much.

Underlust Sans:

Workaholic? Him too bitch, the fuck.

He's a lot more tactful and far more reasonable than the other three bozos above as a result

See his policy is he does all his work on the clock only and instantly stops the moment he's off, but of course that's not a valid method in every work field

He's all about helping you pace yourself, like, he's not constantly nagging you but gives check ins, helps you set limits like no working long hours without at least one break, sets reminders

Probably tips he's learned over the years while being employed under Mettaton

....not as intense as Killer but if he suspects you're being taken advantage of, he'll help you go full Karen on your boss

As well as lecture you to not let others do that to you, you're better than this sweetie

Also he knows what it's like to have a job you like, excel at, and want to keep doing but constantly get bagged down by the expectations, demands and effort it takes.

Always here if you need to vent

He's very understanding, he does get it, alright.

All about finding compromises, but also he is not above bribing you, be it with cuddles, foods, things you like and well...he's definitely attempted to seduce you away from work at least once

If that didn't work he pouted about it for hours

This also ironically enough helps him phase himself at his work even better, largely because he refuses to be a hypocrite in any form

[effloradox]

Oh that Thomas request with a forehead kiss was so cute. Could I pretty please request one where the reader and thomas start a relationship as ghosts and are super cute together. But most of the other ghosts just don't get it? They catch them holding hands or cuddling and the other ghosts just tease them until they finally realise how good thomas and the reader are for each other - 🌸 anon

don’t let the dreamer get lonely

This was such a cute request!! I hope you like it <3

Thomas Thorne x Ghost!Reader

You would think that after knowing someone for almost a decade that your fellow ghosts would be more observant to changes in your daily behaviour. Part of you is convinced that they have noticed and are just messing with you but deep down you know that most of them don't have the tact to do such a thing, especially Pat and Kitty. It can't be hard to miss all the adoring looks Thomas sends you, or spot the two of you when you go for your daily stroll to the lake for a moment of shared peace but the true nature of your relationship seems to have eluded most of your acquaintances.

The ones who know have been fairly upfront about possessing such information, you probably shouldn't have been overly surprised that Julian had been the first to work it out. Whilst you'd initially written the disgraced politician off as a crude fool, he didn't get to be as successful as he was without the eye for detail he obviously possesses. He'd been surprisingly happy to keep your little secret as long as it benefitted him every so often and to keep some semblance of normality you didn’t mind occasionally doing his bidding.

It’s not that you wanted to keep your relationship a secret per-se, it’s just been an enjoyable experience running around like teenagers in love. Thomas had been so bashful in the first few years when approached with any level of physical affection that it had taken months for him to even ask to hold your hand. Dating and courting rituals have changed so drastically since Thomas was alive that you knew the process of going from friends to dating would take a while but it had to move at a pace you were both completely comfortable with.

It doesn’t help that most of your fellow ghosts are quick to tease you and Thomas if you’re seen so much as holding hands. You’ve had more than one argument with Fanny over the implications that come with holding hands, since she can’t imagine a world where doing so without wedding rings is anything less than a cardinal sin. It’s almost fun to wave your entwined hands in front of her in the beginning, just to take delight in her mortified reactions.

It’s only when Pat almost walks in on a private moment that the cat is finally out of the bag about the two of you. He’d been on his way to his room when he’d overheard a loud laugh from one of the drawing rooms, immediately attracting his attention. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, not really, but it wasn’t hard to recognise your laugh and he wanted to know the cause of it. It’s only when he hears a quiet exchanging of words that it occurs to him that this isn’t the kind of conversation he can just walk into.

“You know, I think you were sent for me.” The way you speak is soft, like you're afraid speaking any louder would break whatever bubble you've found yourself in and it peaks the scoutmaster’s curiosity.

“You flatter me with your words.” Pat isn't particularly surprised to find out that Thomas was the source of your joy, the two of you are very close after all. But he's never heard you speak to anyone like that and he can't help his curiosity so the scoutmaster inches closer to the half-open door so he can continue listening.

“I'm serious Thomas.” The room goes quiet and Pat is almost afraid that the two of you know he's there and that’s why you've stopped talking. It's only when Thomas speaks encouragingly to you that he stops worrying about being caught.

“Go on my darling.”

“I remember when I was a kid I saw a shooting star on a camping trip to the lakes. My parents told me that I should make a wish and if no one else wished on that star then it would come true. Silly really, hundreds of people must have seen it, but when I wished and they told me it would come true I believed them.”

“And what did you wish for?”

“True love. It took a while, but I'm so glad you're my wish come true.”

“Your words put my poetry to shame my love.”

It's only when Pat hears a noise from somewhere in the house that he comes back to himself. He bolts away from the room, heading to where most of the other ghosts had congregated for Lady Button's etiquette lesson. Even Allison had joined for this lesson, mainly because Kitty refused to leave her alone about it. In his mind, Pat has an eloquent way of explaining what he's just found out but it all goes out the window as soon as everyone's eyes are on him.

“Thomas and (Y/N) are dating!” The room explodes into a series of confused and surprised exclamations, with only two ghosts remaining silent. Allison is the only person to notice that the politician sitting across from her has not changed his facial expression since before Pat ran in. If anything, Julian almost seemed bored by the revelation.

“Julian, you don't look surprised?” The ghost in question crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back against the couch he's resting on.

“Well they've been pretty obvious about it, if you ask me. I worked it out months ago.” The politician's expression settles into a smug smile as finishes speaking. Alison can't resist the urge to roll her eyes at his smugness, not all that surprised that he’s kept the information to himself. She doesn’t doubt that he’s used that information for personal gain either.

The other ghost that remained silent has still not spoken. Alison knows how close you and the Captain are, so it's more surprising that he hasn’t reacted to the idea of you secretly dating one of the other ghosts right under his nose.

“Cap?” The ghost in question seems to come back to himself at Alison’s gentle prodding, straightening up and clearing his throat. A hush falls over the room as the Captain speaks.

“He came to me about a year ago asking me for my blessing for him to begin dating (Y/N). Said it wouldn't feel right if he didn't ask the closest thing she has to a father figure. I of course said yes once he made his intentions clear, and they seem to be very happy.” At the news of the couple receiving the Captain’s blessing, most of the other ghosts seem to settle into the news, murmuring compliments about the two ghosts.

“I always thought they’d be sweet together. Just thought Thomas was too reserved to ever make a move.” Julian laughs at that, redirecting the attention of everyone in the room back to him.

“He looks at her like she hung the bloody moon. I dread to think of how much poetry he’s written about her.” Alison lets out an involuntary groan at the idea.

“As long as he doesn’t subject us to it at his next poetry lesson he can be as poetic as he wants.”

In the days that follow it becomes apparent to all the residents of Button House just how in love the newly revealed couple are. The most surprising thing to them is how it took them all so long to notice. Subtlety is not in Thomas’ nature, and Julian was correct in saying that he looks at his partner like she hung the moon. It’s sweet really, and the others make sure to start giving you space to be alone together.

[enkvyu]

ENOUGHHHH with the spiderman!jujutsu kaisen angst☹️☹️ spiderman!jjk with blackcat!reader when🙏🙏

i was gonna write a 4k oneshot for this but it was taking too long SO take this super short drabble (?) instead. i'll post the oneshot in a few days if i can finish it in time. thanks for the ask it was sm fun to write !!

6:26pm — getou suguru ;

you knock on the big red door in front of you, and dread the moment it opens. the rain slides down your costume and you rub a hand over your arms, cold.

everything felt odd. never in a million years did you ever imagine yourself waiting outside this suburban home, still in your supervillain attire, acting less like a feisty cat and more like a soggy stray. the comparison is enough to make you grimace. you can feel the usual flame of determination and confidence whimper under the crying skies and you think nothing could make this worse.

unfortunately for you, the person you least wanted to see in this moment opens the door, and their mouth drops open when they see you there, latex black costume still adorned, mask still on, water soaking you down to your bones.

"it isn't good to stare, spiderman." you manage to smirk.

getou closes his mouth with effort and sighs, turning to the side to let you in. he glances side to side, but there would be no one out in the streets at two in the morning. "black cat, just because you found out who i am doesn't mean you can use my place to crash."

you step in and the warmth of a home cuts you deeper than the cold. still, you shake it off along with your hair, combing through knots with your hand and claws. "don't you think you can cut a poor, little kitty like me some slack? where's your sympathy?"

"where's your tact?" getou shoots back, closing the door and reaching over his couch to grab a sweater. he throws it at you. "here, wear this. i don't need my roommate to find out that i'm harbouring a criminal."

you gladly put it in, taking off your whip and placing it on his coffee table. you go to make yourself comfortable when you find him staring at you. "cat got your tongue? they're lying, you know, flattery can definitely get you places. especially with me."

"when are you going to take off your mask?” he asks instead. “you already know who i am.”

"you shouldn’t ask a girl her secrets."

getou blanches. "you're literally in my living room. i'll throw you out on the streets if you keep acting tough especially since you're in no position to be doing that." he walks over to you and you have to force yourself not to flinch when he starts adjusting his sweater on you, the material already damping.

neither of you mention it.

"i was betrayed."

geotu doesn't say anything, just hums to let you know he's listening.

"it was meant to be a simple mission on a yacht. who knew men had more bones than the one in their dicks. i didn't expect any of them to have a backbone but the next thing i knew, i was in the ocean, my loot taken from me."

"so now you're here." getou sums up.

you shrug. "now i'm here."

"but why are you here, is my question."

"i'm just a stray cat now, no place to go no home to call her own. i thought perhaps visiting an older lover would get me going again." you smile up at him, hoping that he’ll take the bait.

he stops his tidying hands that had long finished its purpose and looks at you. "you’re soaked to the bone. do you want to take a shower?"

you think he's getting too good deflecting you, too good at treating you like you weren't black cat. did he think you were a joke, a pathetic, pale reflection of your usual persona just because you had sought him out for help? if there was anything you hated, it was being treated like you were fragile and broken.

you push him in the chest, tucking your feet behind his so he falls hard on his back. you lean over him, hair tumbling over your shoulder and tickling the side of his face. "is that an invitation?" you purr, running your fingers down his chest slowly.

there's a red that's creeping up his face and you think you've won when his hand reaches up and grabs yours, halting its movement. "i'm not in costume right now." he responds and you tilt your head at his random words. "i'm not spiderman right now. you don't have to force yourself to act a certain way."

you freeze before shaking off his grip. it falls away easily, but his gaze is as steady as ever. "playing hard to get?"

"black cat." he says.

"i'm not acting. this is how i usually am."

he frowns as you fidget with the neckline of his shirt. "would you tell me if we were still together?"

you look up at him. "you are so good at saying the worst things possible. you could have said anything in this situation and that's what you came up with?"

he blinks and glances away awkwardly. "it was just a thought."

"maybe it's better that we're over. you don't even know who i am underneath this mask."

getou traces the edges of it and you let him, feeling the familiar caress, the familiar scratch of his callouses that remind you he is just like you, another person hiding under a mask, another person juggling an ordinary persona and the responsibility of great power.

one of his fingers tucks underneath the black material before pausing. "can i?"

for a second, you almost let him do it, heart leaping to your throat.

a single droplet that had been clinging to the front bangs of your hair, falls, and slides down on the space between your eyes before splashing on his cheek. the sight is enough to bring you to your senses.

you interlace his hand on your cheek and drag it away, holding it still against the floor beside his head. his face falls and he gives you a slight smile, like he expected it.

"that's a no, spiderman."

getou looks at you and it's the type of look he gets when he says the wrong thing at the wrong time. "it wasn't you, it was me."

"oh god, spider, you do not get to say that corny shit to me."

"but it was me." he says. "i couldn't make it right between us because of the hero thing and well, you're not exactly the best person to have as a hero, but i still want the best for you, i hope you know. like, i still think about you sometimes and i wonder if you're doing well and, god i'm doing it again aren't i."

"yeah you are."

"but your breathing is getting choppy."

"so is yours."

"oh god."

he doesn't lean in and you don't either. instead, you keep playing with his sweater, hoping that the atmosphere will lighten and return to something comfortable. keep him on his toes, keep him red and hanging off your every word, keep him trailing after you. it was never supposed to turn on you like this.

but getou knows better. he doesn't even tense under your trailing finger and you think, "that's no fun" but you would be lying if you said that was your only thought. he doesn't give you the reaction you want, so eventually you stop and sink into his chest. he wraps his arms around you and it feels so natural, so familiar that you could almost sob.

but even you wouldn't risk such a big loss to your image, so you stay quiet.

"i'm taken now, you know." getou clears his throat awkwardly, and you feel the rumble under you. "so don't think this is anything."

you laugh in his embrace. "just friends."

"right. just friends."

i know this didn't have any of the black cat x spiderman dynamic, for one black cat (you 🫵) is literally going through it but that's because i sped wrote this 😭 the oneshot i'll post later this week (?) will have the usual banter but w gojo intead, i just got hit with some severe writer's block and thought hey what's super easy to write : angst !!

[a-simp-named-slickback]

Star-Crossed | Basim x OC | Part 4

As strange things happen at the House of Wisdom, Nashira begins to wonder what Basim has been up to the last four years…and what he’s up to now.

Nashira was never one to hold her tongue.

Perhaps being raised by her father had something to do with that.

Khalid ibn Mohammed was many things: a respected astronomer, a loving father, and above all else, a spirited debater. She’d seen him confidently share his theories and findings to rooms filled with the world's most celebrated scholars from Baghdad to Greece to Timbuktu. She’d also seen the many lengthy instances where he was asked to defend such findings, which he always did, with ample evidence to boot.

Anytime Nashira wanted something, she and her father had a little game where she’d have to defend her reasons as to why she should have it, while Khalid would argue against it. In fact, such a game is how she got Halah.

“A cat will keep the mice away,” A young Nashira stated.

“They are a big responsibility azizati” he’d say.

“I’m very responsible,” She persisted, “I study very hard, and I complete my chores without being asked.”

Khalid raised a brow, pointing to her study area, “Then why is your desk still a mess?”

“Because if it was clean, Baba, I wouldn't have any way to show you how responsible I am.”

Khalid let out a roar of a laugh. He could not argue with that logic. The next day he presented his daughter with a fluffy white cat.

She never held back in any conversation, especially an intellectual one. She’d learned the art of having tact, but that tact could only do so much in the face of outright foolishness. It was no surprise then when she openly criticized the House of Wisdom’s head scholar, Fazil Fahim.

The man was a charlatan, at least Nashira thought so. He spoke of people who came before, how they would come again one day, how his so-called “great work” proved as much.

Nashira read his research, she attended his lectures, and saw absolutely no basis for this claim. Fazil Fahim had no place as first scholar of the House of Wisdom if intended to spout the musings of a fool. Worse yet, he was spending an unthinkable amount of money on a pointless dig sight out in the wilderness. That part angered Nashira the most.

“To make such claims without any solid evidence is moronic!” Nashira exclaimed after one of his symposiums, “I expect better from a man as intelligent as Fazil Fahim, especially when he is the head scholar of the House of Wisdom. With the money he spends on that dig site, we could fund stipends for more scholars and pay school fees for students who cannot afford it otherwise. A terrible waste!”

What Nashira had not considered was that unlike her father, who was understanding and encouraged her to speak freely around him, other men did not take such talk as well from a woman.

Lately, she swore someone was following her. Around the House of Wisdom, around the markets, outside her home. She couldn’t explain it but she felt a presence near her at all times, starting around the time she made the comment about Fazil.

Perhaps it was him following her around? To confront her on what she said? If that were the case he knew where her observatory was. Nothing stopped him from simply strolling right in and giving her a piece of his mind.

Nashira sighed, drumming her fingers on the open book in front of her. After some contemplation, she let her thoughts drift to where she tried so hard no to let them go.

Could it be Basim?

Her mind filled with the image of his round eyes, his dark brows, his full bottom lip he bit when he was nervous….

She let out a frustrated huff, “Stop it Nashira….” She made herself clear the last time they spoke. That was all in the past. She was married to Omar and he was a good husband to her. This was just her wishful thinking again. The residuals of reckless teenaged passion.

She glanced at the open window. Why did she even bother keeping it open anymore when the only person who ever used it was him?

Nashira walked over to it, taking hold of the window panes and froze. Keeping it open just a little bit wouldn’t hurt? Right? It was quite hot today and the draft would be nice.

She dropped her arms by her side with a heavy sigh, resigning to her desk as she gazed at the window she was too cowardly to close.

Halah jumped into her lap, meowing at her.

She let out a laugh, “You’re right Halah, I need to forget about Basim,” She petted the cat, “Especially before Omar comes back…he’ll notice something is wrong with me and I wouldn’t have the heart to be honest as to why…”

The cat purred into her hand.

Suddenly, Basim leaped through the window. It wasn't in his usual way, he barreled his way in like he was in a rush, or rather a panic.

She gasped, “Basim?”

She paused upon seeing his expression. Basim looked distraught, “You need to get out of here. Now.” He walked over and grabbed her by the arm.

She resisted, “Excuse me? You can’t just barge in here and demand I go anywhere with you, not without an explanation!” She barked at him, and he backed a little in response.

Suddenly the doors of the observator burst open, revealing a group of heavily armed guards. Many of them holding weapons that seemed too coarse for a building full of scholars.

Nashira let out a scream, “What in the world?” She muttered under her breath. The guards drew their swords, filling the entrance. Basim stepped in front of her and Halah, a deadly look in eyes. It didn’t seem to match the face of the sweet boy she used to know, but she considered herself lucky to not be on the receiving end of it.

The biggest guard pointed his sword directly at Nashira, “There she is. Get her!” He ordered.

Basim drew his scimitar from his hilt, a deadly focus growing on his face, “Nashira, Halah, stay behind me.”

_______________________________________________

Basim panted, returning his scimitar to its hilt on his side. Around them lay the dead bodies of the assailants. Taking them out was light work, though he hated making a mess of the observatory.

Nashira stood in place clutching Halah, whose fur stood on ends. They both trembled after witnessing such carnage.

He walked over to her, “Are you alright?” He asked. His voice sounded gently and sweet, a total contrast to the ferocity he displayed in the earlier fight.

Nashira nodded slowly, eyes still focusing on the bodies in front of her. She had never seen so much blood before. She shivered thinking how It would have been her blood had Basim not arrived in time.

He sighed with relief, “Now you see why I need you to come with me?” He asked.

Nashira let out a shaky breath, “Why on earth would these men try to kill me?” She asked, clutching Halah tightly against her.

Basim stepped towards her, “Many people in The House of Wisdom have been going missing, some of them have even been killed. I decided to look into this and spoke with a man who said someone by the name of Al Rabisu was targeting scholars getting involved with a mysterious dig site out in the wilderness. Your name came up and I rushed over here.”

He let out a sigh, “I am just glad I wasn’t too late.” He said just above a whisper.

Nashira swallowed hard, “Me too.” She thought for a moment, “Who is this Al Rabisu?”

“That is what I am trying to find out,” Basim said, “Think, is there anyone you could have angered in the last few days? Anyone at all?”

Nashira thought for a moment, “Well…I may have said some critical things about Fazil Fazim?” She bit her lip nervously. Looking back on it, maybe openly criticizing the most powerful man in the House of Wisdom was a bad idea.

Basim’s eyes widened, “The head scholar?”

She nodded.

He exhaled, “Well I can’t say I’m surprised you'd do something like that.” He said, placing his hands on his hips. This pointed to motive for Fazim in regards to Nashira’s criticism, and further connected him to the order. Still, he needed to be absolutely sure before acting.

She frowned, “I know I said some harsh things, but what would killing me do? I don’t understand.” Nashira asked.

“I have my suspicions as to what Al Rabisu is up to, but first I need to get you somewhere safe.” Basim explained.

Nashira furrowed her brows as Basim guided her towards the window, “Basim what are you-” She was cut off by Basim blindfolding her.

She yelped when he picked her up. She tightened her hold on Halah as Basim carried them both out of the window. To where, she had no idea.

______________________________________________

Nashira sat in a strange room holding Halah in her arms, listening to the muffled voices below. Basim had been speaking with a hooded gray haired woman for some time now. Most of it sounded like her reprimanding him.

“What do you think you’re doing bringing an outsider here?” An older woman with a raspy voice asked angrily.

“I know, Master Roshan, but she was in danger. This was the only place I knew that would be safe.” He pleaded.

Roshan huffed, “You know the rules. No compromising the brotherhood.”

“She won’t,” He added, “I trust her with my life. We’ll keep her here as soon as I can figure out who’s behind the mask in the House of Wisdom.”

Nashira felt a sense of relief hearing him vouch for her to stay. She definitely didn’t feel safe enough to go home, especially with her husband gone.

Downstairs, Roshan didn’t budge, instead crossing her arms and hardening her stare.

Basim pressed his hands together, “Please master,” He lowered his voice, leaning in a bit, “This is important for the success of my mission.”

His mentor raised a brow, “Is all this important for your mission, or is she important to you?” she asked at full volume.

Basim opened his mouth to negate that, but couldn’t.

Nashira listened intently to the conversation, feeling her face growing red at what Roshan insinuated. She quickly shook the feeling away.

“That’s in the past.” she insisted to herself. She kept listening.

Roshan let out a deep sigh, “Alright. But make haste on finding out the truth behind Al Rabisu and this dig site. We do not have time to waste.”

Nashira let out a sigh of relief and heard footsteps walking up the stairs. She quickly busied herself, making it seem like she hadn’t been listening to that conversation.

Basim entered the space looking indignant after the harsh talking-to he just received, but quickly fixed his face once he saw Nashira.

“You can stay here as long as you need.” He said, “It is safe here.”

She sighed in relief, “Thank you, Basim…I really appreciate what you’re doing for me.”

He gave her a soft smile, “Of course, ya sayidati.”

She let Halah jump down from her arms, smiling when she saw her snuggle up against Basim’s boot, “If I might ask, where exactly am I?”

Basim let out a deep sigh, “I’m afraid I cannot tell you.”

Nashira raised a brow at him, but continued with her questions, “Then, can I ask what you are going to do now?” She hesitated, “Do you intend to…fix this issue the way you did in my observatory?”

Basim crossed his arms, “I will do what needs to be done to ensure your safety.”

She made an irritable noise at that, and Basim tried not to laugh. She hated not knowing things.

“What is with all these secrets? He’s never been this secretive…” she thought to herself, no doubt her face showing how irritated she was.

Basim gently patted her shoulder, “Try to relax while I’m gone.”

She rolled her eyes, “Easier said than done. You’re not the one with a target on their back.”

“True.” He shrugged, “At least not today.”

Basim turned around before he could see the look of wide eyed shock on Nashira’s face. Just what on earth does he do for a living?!

The steely look in his face returned as he glanced behind him, “I must go now. If you need anything, Master Roshan and Tabid will help you. I’ll be back soon.” He turned to leave the room, headed for the House of Wisdom to continue his investigation.

Just as Basim was about to turn the corner, he heard her voice behind him.

“Be careful.”

She said it softly, nearly a whisper. He smiled to himself, then turned just enough to nod at her, and left.

When he disappeared from her sight, Nashira let out a long breath, trying to shake off the feeling in her chest. She thought back to the fight that broke out in her observatory. As scary as the situation was, Basim skillfully subdued her attackers with ease.

If she hadn’t already known him, she’d swear he was a hero from an epic tale that leaped off the page and into real life. He could protect anyone from anything, no longer the defenseless boy from the streets she once knew. This Basim was a different beast entirely.

She shook her head when she realized she was thinking about him for too long, “Stop it Nashira!” she said to herself.

Her eyes drifted to Halah, who sat on the floor and looked up at her, tilting her head.

Nashira shrugged, “What?”

Halah simply meowed, walking toward one of the cushions on the floor to take a nap.

______________________________________________

Nashira knew she was supposed to stay in the room and out of the way of everyone else in the bureau, but her curiosity couldn’t stay away. It had been at least a day since Basim brought her here, and the only fresh air she got in that time was from the small enclosed courtyard just outside the bureau. She crept out of the room Basim left her in and made her way down the hall.

There weren’t many people at all in the bureau. The few people there were too occupied with their own studies to notice her. Or rather, she suspected, they did notice her and decided she was such a non threat they didn’t have to acknowledge her presence. She figured that was for the best all things considered.

She made her way down the stairs, taking note of her surroundings: there was a desk, a bookshelf filled with reference books and maps of the city hanging on the walls. Near the door was a board with several papers pinned to it.

Nashira got close to the desk in an attempt to read the papers on it, having to strain her eyes just to make out a few letters at a time.

“What are you doing?”

She whipped her head around at the sound of the raspy voice from earlier. There stood the woman in similar robes to Basim, only she had a red sash instead of the blue one he wore. Her hood was up, unlike the other hidden ones in the bureau, and Nashira could only make out the bottom half of her face. She must have been the woman Basim was speaking with earlier, Master Roshan.

“Nothing,” she sputtered, “I was just-“

“You were just looking at confidential documents?” Roshon finished for her as she stalked up to Nashira, towering over the younger woman.

“My apologies, I didn’t know they were confidential, they were out in the open,” Nashira clarified, “I don’t even have my magnifying glass on me so I could hardly read any of it.”

“A likely story,” said Roshan, “Or a clever lie.”

Nashira frowned, “I am no liar. And unlike you and Basim I do not keep secrets either.” She crossed her arms.

Roshan hummed, “Then perhaps you’re not so clever after all.”

Nahsira scoffed in response.

Roshan examined the woman in front of her. She didn’t peg this woman as a member of the order, but she could never be too careful. By the looks of her, she had zero fighting prowess about her. She was young, about twenty if she had to guess, olive skinned, shaped like a pear with a soft tummy, and lacking in muscle. Nashira didn’t possess any weapons on her person and definitely dressed like a woman could afford to hire people to fight for her judging by her elegant robes and jewlery.

It was clear she wasn’t a threat, at least not physically.

No doubt she was beautiful enough to compel the hearts of men and women around her. Men like Basim, who despite having grown from the scared boy he was when Roshan first met him, was still a man. A young one at that, making him an easy target for seduction.

She decided she wouldn’t let up until she had a better understanding of who this young woman was and what she was doing with her student.

Roshon narrowed her eyes, “Who are you?”

“Nashira bint Khalid ibn Mohammed.” She answered quickly, “I’m an astronomer at the House of Wisdom.”

“A woman astronomer,” Roshan thought, not hiding her intrigue in her face, “Being a woman in your position must make you quite vulnerable. Especially to men with fragile egos in the House of Wisdom I imagine.” She said aloud.

Nashira sighed, “Perhaps…I’ve been made quite aware of that recently…”

Roshan tilted her head. Clearly she was intelligent considering she was a scholar. Though intelligence does little to help naïveté it seems. Any woman in a lower class knew a man’s ego was a threat, as Roshan herself was well aware. However women of higher class lived in a world sheltered by the men around them. Those women had the protection of their well to do male relatives and whoever served them. Perhaps the events leading to Nashira staying here were a rude awakening on that fact.

Roshan continued, “How do you know Basim?”

Nashira rubbed her hand up and down her arm, “We were…friends.” She said, trying to keep her gaze locked on Roshan but couldn’t help but to shift her eyes to the ground.

“Friends?” Roshan raised a brow, sensing she was withholding information. Still, her hesitation to answer her questions regarding Basim did not seem to come from a place of deception, at least not with the goal of deceiving Roshan in this very moment.

Nashira shifted her eyes from the floor to Roshan’s, “Perhaps more than that.”

Now it was coming together for Roshan. Like his friend Nehal, she was just another piece of the past Basim had to reckon with, “I see…And are you still more than that?”

“No.” Nashira answered quickly.

“Why not?”

The young woman shrugged her shoulders, “He disappeared,” she looked Roshon up and down, “I suspect you know the rest.”

“The rest?”

Nashira rolled her eyes, “The parts I don’t know…or aren’t allowed to know it seems.”

Roshan clasped her hands behind her back, “Basim took an oath, to leave his past behind him and walk our path. To walk the shadows and serve the light.” She held Nashia’s gaze, “He has no room for anything else. I’m sure you understand Nashira.”

Nashira nodded. So then this was the reason he stayed away so long. This oath of his to leave his past behind, her included. After all the time they spent together, had he really intended to forget about her just like that? It took her years to make peace with his sudden disappearance. Was it really so easy for him? If he wasn’t required to come back to Baghdad, would he have even bothered seeking her out at all?

She swallowed hard. Why did the thought of that upset her so much?

Her somber expression didn’t go unnoticed by Roshan, “I do not say this to be cruel. I just do not want you to get you to get your hopes up.”

She met Roshan’s gaze with her own, “That will not be a problem. What we had is in the past.”

“Is it?” The hidden one tilted her head.

“It is.” Nashira answered sternly, “And once this is all over and I can go back to my observatory and we can forget all about this.”

Roshon paused for a moment, then let out a sigh. This woman was smart, but a terrible liar.

“Very well.” She said, turning on her heel toward the door, “I enjoyed our chat, Nashira bint Khalid.” She put her hand on the doorknob, “there are some books on the shelf behind you. I suggest you read those to keep your boredom at bay.”

Without another word she walked out the bureau, leaving a stunned Nashira behind.

Nashira held her gaze on the door, letting her feelings sink into her. Despite the presence of others in the office, she suddenly felt more confused and alone than ever.

What path did Basim walk that led him so far from her?

_______________________________________________

Hours later, Basim walked into the upstairs room, startling both Nashira and Halah out of their sleep.

Sleeping on the floor was not her preferred method, but at least the Hidden One’s hideout was mostly quiet, save for the sound of footsteps. She stretched her sore muscles and Halah followed suit.

Nashira noticed Basim seemed…off? Like he had grown weary since she last saw him hours ago. She wondered what made him so.

Given what happened at the observatory, perhaps it was best if she didn’t know any details.

“It’s done,” He said, “Come morning you’ll be able to return to the House of Wisdom with no danger.”

She let out a sigh of relief, “That is good to hear,” She relaxed her shoulders, “So, was it Fazil Fahim then?”

Basim figured she’d find out he was dead anyway once she returned to the House of Wisdom. so he nodded.

She raised a brow, “Are you going to tell me what was going on with all those disappearances?” She asked.

He sighed, “I cannot reveal-”

“Right, more secrets.” She rolled her eyes, getting a bit fed up with all this secrecy.

“Trust me Nashira,” Basim put a hand over his heart, “If I could tell you, you’d be the first to know.”

Her eyes soften, remembering her conversation with Roshan earlier about Basim’s oath, “It’s fine. Thank you ya sadiqi.” She smiled warmly at him, showing her sincere thanks.

Basim felt a warmth spread in his chest seeing her smile at him, “I can escort you home if you’d like? So you do not have to stay in…here.” He gestured around the room, beautiful but quite small and simple compared to the observatory.

She grinned, “I’d love that.”

_______________________________________________

Basim marveled at the estate in front of him.

Nashira’s home was beautifully decorated with sun, moon and star designs etching the walls and arches. The private courtyard he stepped into was filled with a lush garden and a fountain where the moon’s reflection shone in the water.

“This house is beautiful.” Basim touched the etchings in the archways. His own father would be speechless if he saw this place.

Nashira smiled, “Thank you.” She took a seat on the edge of the fountain, “Omar is always away with the merchant caravans so he figured he’d have the house built to suit my tastes.”

Basim clasped his hands behind his back, “That is good. You deserve a gorgeous home.” His eyes softened at her.

She smiled back, and then looked up at the sky. A skwak rang out, catching her attention. Moments later an eagle flew down onto Basim’s outstretched arm.

“You’ve been flying all day,” he fed the bird a snack, “Do you ever tire?”

Nashira tilted her head as Basim brought the creature closer to her, “This is Enkidu, my animal companion.”

The bird was beautiful, and quite alert, seeming to take notice of the woman in front of him. She carefully reached out a hand to pet the top of Enkidu’s head.

The bird clicked with delight at the action.

“It’s very nice to meet you Enkidu.” Nashira smiled at the creature.

Basim let out a chuckle, “I can tell he likes you.”

Nashira blew the bird a few kisses, not noticing her cat stalking up the winged creature. With one swipe of the paw, Halah hissed at the bird, causing it to fly back in the sky with a loud screech.

“Bad Halah!” Nashira picked up the cat, placing it in her lap, “you mustn’t hiss at our friend Enkidu.” She sent an apologetic glance at Basim.

He chuckled again, “Enkidu is a lot tougher than he seems.”

Nashira let Halah jump out of her lap. She patted a spot next to her on the fountain, “Please, sit with me.”

Without hesitation, Basim did as she asked. Stars filled the night above them, twinkling up above Nashira’s courtyard garden.

He sighed, “This reminds me of those times we’d sit on the roofs in Anbar.” He said, gazing above them.

Nashira smiled fondly, “Yeah, it does.”

A silence hung over them for some time.

She looked at Basim, taking in his new choice of dress. He wore a hood now, though it was down at the moment. His clothing was simple and plain, like a peasant or monk’s clothing. The only thing that stood out was the bright sash, and if you looked closely, you could see an array of thinly veiled weapons all over his person.

She gave him a long look, raising an eyebrow at him. Slowly the corner her mouth raised up in a smirk.

He noticed her gaze, “What?”

Nashira let out a small laugh, “I couldn’t help but notice how you choose the dress lately : hoods, concealed weapons…or should I say hidden? Much like those elusive hooded liberators you used to talk about all the time. What were they called?” She tapped her cheek with her finger as she circled around him, “The Hidden-”

Basim covered her mouth to stop her from talking.

His face turned serious, “Do not mention them, ever, understood?” He said in a hushed tone.

She nodded.

He took his hand away and she smacked him hard on the shoulder, “And stop shushing me!”

Basim grunted out a laugh at the smack and rubbed his shoulder, feigning pain. Nashira nearly hit him again but he caught her hand before she could.

“Nice try.” He smirked. He and Nashira laughed for a moment before realizing how close to each other they were, and that Basim currently held her hand in his. They both thought back to the times they used to play these kinds of games together in the observatory.

They were so close to each other. Close enough to feel each other's breaths on their noses.

He let go, clearing his throat and she tucked some hair back into her head scarf.

Nashira let out a little laugh, “To be honest I wouldn’t have figured it out had I not spoken to Master Roshan.” She mentioned.

Basim’s eyes widened, “You spoke with Roshan?”

She nodded, “She may have caught me looking at some confidential documents while you were away.”

Basim blinked, “I am surprised you lived to tell the tale.”

“As am I.” Nashira thought for a moment and then laughed, “I am surprised you took out those mercenaries so easily. I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

Basim raised a brow, “What do you mean?”

“Well thieves aren’t exactly known for fighting.” She shrugged, “You were more so the ‘avoid a fight and run away as fast as you can’ type.”

“Hey now, I used to put up a good fight back then!” He protested.

She chuckled, “You certainly gave them what for…from the ground.” She winked.

Basim huffed in annoyance and rolled his eyes as she laughed thinking about all the times she saw Basim scrambling from the guards in the House of Wisdom.

She fidgeted with her hands in her lap, “I know I was a bit…harsh the night you returned to Baghdad,” She almost whispered, “I still stand by what I said, but, It is good to have you back. I missed having a friend to talk to.”

Basim smiled softly at the word friend. They had started out as friends, and he cherished that friendship just as much, if not more, than their romance for he would have never known he loved her without it. The love he had for Nashira never left, but perhaps it could change.

“I am glad to be back too. Even more so knowing we can still be friends.”

After a moment, she cleared her throat, “Roshan mentioned the reason you hadn’t come back to Baghdad was because of your Hidden One’s training.”

Basim nodded, “That is true. I needed to train hard and remain focused to reach my goal,” he explained, “and in order to do that I needed to take an oath to leave my old life behind.”

It grew quiet between them. He realized what he implied when he saw Nashira frown. Her face remained still, thought he swore he could see the slightest bend in her eye brow like something bothered her.

“Hold on, I didn’t mean- “

“No, do not apologize, I understand.” She assured him, “I’m happy for you. Becoming a Hidden One has always been your dream. Don’t apologize for following that path.” She gave him a small smile.

“You were my dream too.” He wanted to tell her, but remembered how she shut him down when they first reconnected.

Nashira couldn’t help but notice how tired Basim’s eyes looked. The dark circles pooled under them, growing darker since the last time.

“You are happy right? You look so weary,” She said.

Basim didn’t look at her, “I’m fine,” he lied. After killing Fazil Fahim, he saw another vision of the jinni. What used to only haunt him in his sleep now tormented him in his wake as well. He lacked the answers as to why, but it always happened when he slayed one of his targets.

Nashira placed a hand on his shoulder, “Are you sure?” Her eyes grew more concerned as she tried to get him to look at her but he wouldn't. He couldn’t.

Instead he asked her, “Are you happy Nashira?”

Nashira removed her hand from his shoulder. She looked far ahead of her, gazing at the beautiful archway of her home, built for her by a devoted husband who loved her.

“I should be…” She muttered out loud.

Basim looked her way, seeing the forlorn look in her eyes as she stared ahead of her. What did she mean? She had to be happy, right? She had her observatory, this house, a kind and wealthy husband, everything she’d need to live a secure and comfortable life. What was missing from it?

He brought his gaze back up towards the stars. If this was how things were meant to be, how could she be unhappy? How could he be expected to let what they had go if he knew she was unhappy with this life?

He shook his head. No, no, he couldn’t think like that. He was harping on feelings from the past, not focusing on the reality of the present.

He stood up, “I have to go. Master Roshan is expecting me.”

He needed to go. He couldn’t stay a moment longer or he’d say something he’d regret and ruin any chance of them being friends.

Nashira opened her mouth to say something, to tell him to come back, tell him to stay with her, even for just a moment longer.

Instead, all she said was “Goodnight, Basim.”

Basim swallowed hard, “Goodnight, Nashira.” He disappeared into the night.

_____________________________________________

The sun was shining high over Baghdad as Basim leaped across the rooftops to get to the House of Wisdom. Weeks had passed since he assassinated Fazil Fahim and by the looks of things, the House of Wisdom was bouncing back from corruption.

No signs of burning books, people freely walking about, freely discussing their findings and philosophies amongst themselves and their students.

He smiled to himself. It was nice to see the results of his work for once.

He made it to the ledge just above the window into Nashira’s observatory. He grabbed a hold of it and swung himself into the building, landing effortlessly on the floor.

As he stood, he dusted himself off, “Nashira, I have some work for you from Master Rosha-“

He stopped talking when he saw not only Nashira’s wide eyes staring back at him, but about 10 other pairs of eyes as well. All them were young girls, anywhere from thirteen to sixteen years old. They sat together at their desks as Nashira stood in the front with a board showing complicated math equations.

She cleared her throat, “Basim, this is my class.” She turned to her class, “Class, this is my old friend Basim. What do we say to our guests?”

“Assalamu alaikum.” They said in unison.

Basim put a hand to his heart, bowing his head, “Walaikum Assalam. My apologies for interrupting your class, children.” He said, “Perhaps I should come back later.”

One of the younger girls perked up, “Ustadah, why does he dress like a peasant?” She asked

“Fatima!” Nashira used a warning tone in her voice, the kind Basim recognized as the one her father used to let her know she was crossing a boundary.

Basim shook his head, “It is fine ya sayidati,” Basim looked at Fatima, “That is a fine question, young lady. When I was not much older than you, I grew up in Anbar, one of the poorer districts in Baghdad. Because of this, I saw many people and children like yourself go without the things they need and treated poorly by others, myself included,” he explained, clasping his hands behind his back as he spoke, “My clothes are a reminder of the oath I made to help those less fortunate.”

Most of that was true, though the simple answer was that the clothes concealed his identity. These girls didn’t need to know for what reason though.

He continued, “Like all of you, I spent a lot of time in this very room learning as much as I could, thanks to your teacher.” He said, looking over at Nashira.

Nashira smiled softly at him and he returned the gesture. This action did not go unnoticed by her students, who unfortunately for her were growing more and more observant everyday.

One of the girls raised her hand and Nashira called on her, “Yes, Reem?”

Reem smirked, “Is he the reason you tell us not to talk to boys from Anbar?” She teased.

Nashira clapped her hands, “Class dismissed!” She said, completely side tracking that question.

Immediately the girls scurried from their desks and out the doors to the rest of the House of Wisdom, carrying their books with them, breaking off into smaller groups to chat and giggle amongst themselves, stealing glances at their teacher and this mysterious bearded man from Anbar.

When all the students were out of the room, Nashira slowly turned around to face Basim, cringing when she saw his hands on his hips and a cheeky expression on his face.

“And what’s wrong with boys from Anbar?” He asked with a playful tone.

“Nothing! Nothing,” Nashira giggled, “I just wanted to make sure my girls know to look out for their-”

“Sticky fingers?” Basim answered, holding up both hands and wiggling his fingers.

“No,” Nashira pointed to her mouth, “Their slick tongues.” She said before they both burst out into a laugh.

Basim chuckled, “Do your students know what a bad influence you were on me?” He asked.

In their youth, Nashira often dragged him along to parts of the library they weren’t allowed in, or would convince him to use his “sticky fingers” to swipe books about topics her father wouldn’t allow her to read. If they ever got caught, Nashira would distract the guards and stewards so Basim could sneak away with their bounty.

Nashira smirked, “You were a worst one.”

At some point in the middle of their banter they had migrated very close to each other, leaving only a few inches of space between them. They cleared their throats and put more space between them.

“So, what did you come by for?” Nashira asked.

He grinned, “Isn’t it obvious? I’ve come to see my good friend.”

Nashira cracked a smile, only to scoff when he crouched down to pick up the fluffy white cat.

“Halah!” He said in a joyous tone, holding up the chubby cat who purred from the attention.

Nashira thumped his forehead with her finger, “You interrupted my class for that?”

Basim shook his head with a laugh, letting Halah jump out of his arms, “Master Roshan needs to know which stars to follow to get to these locations.” He handed her a parchment with Roshan’s request on it.

Nashira read the parchment. Many of the locations extended out of Baghdad, into areas like Greece, Constantinople, even the Norse lands, “Why does she need to go here?” She asked.

Basim shrugged his shoulders, “I can not tell you what I don't know.”

Nashira tilted her head, “You mean you didn’t ask?” That was so unlike the Basim she knew, who like her, was always nosy to fault. Though it seemed this Basim didn’t question his master on anything.

Basim shook his head.

She rolled her eyes, “More secrets.” She placed the parchment on the table, “Very well, I’ll figure it out in a few hours. Right now I need to go.”

Basim looked confused, “Go where?”

“To Anbar,” She explained, filling a bag with books, “One of my students, Maha, hasn’t been coming to class lately because her mother is sick and she has to watch her younger siblings. So I’m going over there to teach her in her home.”

“Really,” Basim hummed thoughtfully, “I never thought someone from Anbar could afford such a class.”

“Of course she can’t afford it. That’s why I don’t charge her, or any of my students for that matter.” Nashira clarified as she continued packing, “Maha is too bright for me to let her fall through the cracks.”

Basim wasn’t sure what he felt just then, but he found himself smiling at her while she wasn’t looking. He suddenly remembered how she said teaching was how she wanted to better the world around her. It was nice to see her following that call to purpose.

“It is a good thing you are doing, ya sayidati,” he said, “Though I wish we had more time to share a snack of dates and tea.”

Nashira smirked, “Consider yourself lucky. Since you are so eager to spend time with Halah, you can cat sit while I’m gone.” She winked at him, before heading out of the observatory.

[somnambulants]

hi!! i was just wondering if i could request more yelena where yelena introduces her gf to natasha and her family and she’s uncharacteristically nervous so nat finds it amusing? thank you :)

a bit of minor surgery

summary: Yelena tries to keep you to herself but her family has other ideas word count: 1.7K notes: so this is a little different to what you asked for but i hope you still like it! for the sake of this, nat, yelena, alexei and melina are just one happy family 

“But if we –"

Natasha holds up a hand and Yelena stops talking. “Do you hear that?”

It’s faint but there’s the sound of someone moving around on her apartment floor. Being the only person who lives on this floor and one of the few in this building is enough for this to raise the hairs on the back of her neck.

Survival for them has always meant constant vigilance.

Both of their heads swivel towards the front door as the footsteps become louder, very clearly approaching her apartment.

Yelena doesn’t have to look to know Natasha is mirroring her, pulling out her gun and scanning every entry-way for possible intruders.

On edge, Yelena presses herself against the door, readying herself until she listens properly and realises the approaching footsteps sound familiar. 

Somehow, she feels herself relax and become even more tense at the same time.

“Stop,” she says as Natasha moves towards the door as well, holding an arm out to stop her. “It’s okay. I know who it is.”

At her words Natasha relaxes, putting her gun away but she watches her face carefully as she does so.

The panic Yelena can feel building inside her must not be as well hidden as she thought because a slow grin spreads across her face as the sound of a gentle knock echoes through Yelena’s apartment.

“Is it..?”

“Yes,” Yelena replies curtly. “And no. You can’t meet them.”

Natasha gives her a wicked look, clicking her teeth together teasingly. “What? Scared I’ll…eat them?”

She snickers as Yelena reaches out and shoves her hard enough to knock the air out of her while also giving her a firm and clear: im going to kill you if you don't listen to me look as she goes to open the door.

Not that it's ever stopped Natasha before.

“Just stay there,” Yelena hisses and then wrenches the door open, finding you behind it with your hand still mid-air, prepared to knock a second time.

“Y/N!”

“Hi,” you say, looking a little startled but smiling at her none the less as you drop your hand.

Beside her and thankfully, just out of your view, Natasha, to her credit, is silent but Yelena can feel her gaze glued to her face and can especially feel the amusement radiating off her in waves.

She grits her teeth, forcing a smile. Your own fades a little as you take her in. “Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Yelena says quickly. Still out of sight, Natasha lets out a huff of laughter just quiet enough that she hopes she’s the only one that hears her.

“Not at all,” she adds, and since the door covers most of her body, it’s safe for her to reach out and pinch Natasha on the arm. Which is what she does. Hard. “Just --give me a second?”

Clearly still puzzled, you nod and Yelena closes the door, giving you a smile that she has a feeling looks more like a grimace.

Next she grabs Natasha by the arm and starts walking her forcibly towards the window. “Out.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow as she pulls them to an abrupt stop, looking at her then looking out the window. “You seriously want me to scale ten stories because you’re an idiot?”

As an answer, Yelena unlocks the latch and lets the window sweep open, giving her a pointed look that says: Yes. Obviously. 

Natasha rolls her eyes but to Yelena’s relief, she slides out the window.

“неудачник,” is all she says in parting before she disappears, dropping down the stairwell and vanishing from sight completely.

The word lingers in the air after her: Loser.

Yelena scowls after her for a second before she rushes back to the door and opens it, letting out a sigh of relief when she sees you’re still there, standing in the same spot.

“Sorry,” she apologises, swinging the door open. “There was just a uh, complication....a spider. I caught it and put it outside. I know you hate them.”

As she speaks, you slowly raise one eyebrow at her. The other quickly follows and it's then that she notices the narrowed look in your eyes.

When you start speaking, your voice is low and scarily calm. “So it has nothing to do with the woman I just made eye contact with as she was climbing down your fire escape?”

Something Yelena is proud to say is that in her life there have been very few times she’s been at a loss for words. 

This however is one of them.

She stares at you, blankly, knowing her panic must be showing on her face by the way your expression progressively becomes darker and darker as seconds pass and she fumbles frantically for something to say.

“I, uh, she is, she, uh –”

“—Natasha Romanoff. Nice to meet you.”

To her credit, Natasha has always been the stealthier of the two of them. Ignoring that fact, Yelena chooses to believe that her being distracted by you is why she doesn’t hear her coming back up the stairwell.

She also chooses to believe that she didn’t visibly jump at the sound of her voice and that the cough Natasha lets out is genuine and not covering up a laugh that says she’s going to mock her mercilessly for this entire thing later.

Of course, Yelena can’t fool herself but she tries anyway.

You look even more unimpressed as Natasha comes to a stop beside her and it clicks in Yelena’s head that you think her and Natasha – her and Natasha. She can’t even finish the thought.

As funny as it is, she doesn’t let herself laugh, knowing instinctively that it’s not a good idea. The flinty look in your eyes just confirms how much of a not good idea that is.

Just because you weren’t raised like her doesn’t mean that you couldn’t pack a punch; something she learned early on in your relationship when she’d accidentally snuck up on you once. She’d had a black eye for weeks after that.

“Natasha is my --” she isn’t sure how to say: ‘this is the woman I was trained to kill people with while we grew up being tortured and experimented on, remember I told you?’ In a way that won’t make you go running for the hills.

As she trails off, Natasha, sensing her panic, jumps in. Yelena knows that internally, she must be laughing hysterically though to her merit, she keeps it to herself. “I’m her… sister. Of sorts.”

You know about her past – all of what she was willing to repeat of it anyway – so comprehension quickly dawns on your face.

“Then why…?”

She watches as Natasha’s mouth twitches, sounding amused as she directly addresses you: “Well... my sister is an idiot. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Yelena tenses as you give her a once over, raking your eyes over her consideringly, before you turn back to Natasha.  “I may have noticed that. Yes.”

"Hey," Yelena protests, weakly. "That's not fair."

You give her a pointed look and she falls silent. Resigned to her fate, she lets out a sigh.

She can tell from the matching scheming looks brewing in both your own and Natasha’s eyes that this is only going to be the start of her own personal torment.

--

The one thing she really, really hates about her family is that they have this habit of showing up unannounced – you’d think that the whole being assassins and consequently, a little trigger happy as a result would make someone call ahead but no.

Never.

For this reason, it comes as no surprise when there’s the familiar three tap repetitive secret knock knock knock they had all come up with years ago on her front door early the following morning.

Silently, Yelena prays you don’t hear it and stay asleep as she drags herself out of bed and prepares herself for what she’s about to deal with.

Truthfully, she’s a little surprised that they’d had enough tact to wait until morning. She’d half expected them to be knocking her door down the second Natasha relayed last nights events to them. 

Yanking the door open, she comes face-to-face with Alexei and Melina. Taking them both in and cataloguing mentally that they look alive and uninjured, she lets herself glare at both of them.

“Is something wrong?”

They both frown. “No?”

“Okay I’m closing the door then.”

She starts to swing it shut but it’s quickly caught as Alexei shoves a foot in between it and the doorframe, giving her a reproachful look.

“Is your –”

“Yes,” Yelena interrupts, scowling harder than before, if that was even possible. “Now, leave.”

The look on Alexei’s face shifts, now suddenly a little too much on the wrong side of sneaky. “Can we—”

“No.”

“But–"

“I don’t care. You can’t meet them,” she barks, probably too loudly, as she shoves him back out into the hallway. If she has to throw them bodily out of here, she will. It just would likely attract your attention, which is the opposite of what she wants. “They’re asleep.”

“We can wake them,” he suggests, unhelpfully.

Yelena glares at him harder. “No.”

It’s faint but all of a sudden, she can hear the sound of a door squeaking as it opens. Her bedroom door to be more exact. Your voice calling out to her quickly follows.

“Okay,” she says. “I’m closing the door now.”

“Hey, no wait –” Alexei starts to protest. Yelena closes the door firmly in their faces and is working on dead-bolting it just as you appear in her line of sight.

You blink at her blearily, wearing just one of her T-shirts and nothing else. Thank god she hadn’t let them in. “Who was that?”

“Neighbours,” Yelena lies. “Looking for their …cat.”

Still half asleep, you don’t think to question her and she sags against the door in relief as you venture into the kitchen in search of coffee.

To her relief, there are no subsequent persistent knocks or calls through the door and after a second, she can hear the quiet sound of footsteps and Alexei’s grumbling as they retreat.

Natasha is one thing – their parents or pseudo-parents or whatever they are – are another thing entirely. She’d save that one for another day.

Or never, preferably.

[enamouredfae]

♡ Pick a Card ♡

Advice from your Spirit Guides!

This reading is for entertainment purposes only.

This is a timeless reading for the collective, therefore it is likely that some messages will not resonate with you. Please only take the messages that do! The messages that do not, are meant for somebody else. Remember that the future is never set in stone and that you possess free will! Love you! ♡

Pile 1

Charm: Shell

You may see shells as signs from the universe. You may have Venusian placements. You have a tough exterior, but once you finally open up to people you are a hidden gem! You are a person that values privacy.

Flower: Carnation

The meaning of carnation changes depending on its colour, since this one is a stripped purple carnation, it symbolizes rejection/refusal and capriciousness. It being a dry bud, for me at least, symbolizes that this is a small issue that isn't likely to grow! You might've been refused a caprice recently, or you may have too high expectations that are likely not going to be fulfilled.

Significator: Page of Cups

Self-sufficient is the word I thought of when I saw this card. I think that at the moment you are really starting to work through your emotions, you might be finally doing some introspection, journaling, talking to people, seeing a therapist, etc. You are beginning a journey of emotional growth. You might also be receiving a message soon, be aware of any symbols that matter to you or ask the universe for certain symbols for guidance.

Astro: Virgo and Capricorn

There is a high chance that you have Virgo or Capricorn placements. You may be earth dominant. You may be Mercury/Saturn dominant/ruled. This could also apply to the person you need advice on if that is the case.

I thought of soil when I saw these cards, not a plant, but very well-nourished soil. It seems like you are making a foundation for yourself that is not rooted in anyone else, it simply comes from you. You are the soil, the water, the nutrients, and your future self is the plant. Flower crowns may be significant to you as well, or you may find great healing by connecting with nature and connecting to nature's cycles.

What you need advice on:

VI of Wands and X of Pentacles (reversed)

There are a few possibilities I see here. You may be having a hard time getting your accomplishments noticed by others, you might not receive the praise you desire or feel you deserve. Another possibility is that you may have a hard time feeling successful due to your financial situation. You may have received a large sum of money that should make you happy, but it doesn't. You may be very well off financially, but it is causing some hardships, and others might not understand these hardships because they think that they'd be very happy in your position.

Advice:

King of Pentacles and XVIII. The Moon

I feel like at least one of you should monetize your intuition. Some of you have or will meet a person (very likely an earth placement), that is either a business partner or a lover/friend, that will somehow help you with your financial issue. They might recommend you to someone for example. Perhaps if you confide in the King of Pentacles, they'll help you immensely, they're someone you can rely on, if not financially, emotionally. Others should embody the King of Pentacles, be determined, stick to a routine. For others, someone could be hiding smth from you that would help you immensely with this issue. Listen to your intuition! Do not forget that your anxieties and fears are valid, and it is normal to be feeling like this! Your worth is not defined by your financial success!

38. Willow and 5. Cerato and Honeysuckle

Willow talks about self-responsibility: make a plan, stick to it and, most importantly, try to stop complaining. You have the strength to get through this, complaining just engrains it in your head that you have a problem making it harder to get out of that mindset, instead try working on the solution. Cerato talks about the fact that no matter how many people you ask, no matter how many books you read, your gut knows best! Trust yourself and your intuition. Whatever feels right, is! Just know that domestic happiness is very important right now, cherish whoever that may be (King of Pentacles perhaps), be it your cat or even yourself if you live alone, give and accept affection! This could be a message for a specific person but I feel called to note that as I was shuffling the oracles I started singing "Runaway" by Aurora. Perhaps the lyrics are meaningful to one of you, or it can reassure you that this pile is meant for you if this is your favorite song.

Pile 2

Charm: Cactus

You may see cacti as signs from the universe or have a very strong emotional attachment to them due to a certain memory. I feel like a lot of people are attracted to you, but they feel that you will reject or hurt them if they get too close. Or you consciously or subconsciously hurt people when they get too close. You might think you don't deserve love, which is NOT TRUE. Love isn't something that has to be deserved! But if it were, you most certainly deserve it!

Flower: Freesia

Yellow freesias symbolize joy, renewal, and friendship. It is the go-to flower to convey to someone that you trust them. You are incredibly trustworthy, someone to whom your loved ones come for advice. You are a great listener, are very delicate and tactful in your interactions with others.

Significator: IX. The Hermit

You are doing a lot of self-reflection right now, sometimes the pondering even turns into daydreams. You may also be connecting with and thinking about your spiritual/religious beliefs. You are looking to understand the light that illuminates your path. You may have started meditating, or you should start! Spiritual awakening is happening or coming soon! You could be isolating yourself at the moment as well.

Astro: Jupiter and Libra

There is a high chance that you have Libra or Sagittarius placements. You may be air dominant. You may be Jupiter/Venus dominant/ruled. This could also apply to the person you need advice on if that is the case.

The words that I kept thinking about at this point in the reading were "letting karma do its job" and "visions of the future". You may be clairvoyant! But most of you act a lot like the Justice tarot card, you like balance and fairness, and have a life philosophy based on these ideas. Your higher education might've played a big role in this.

What you need advice on:

II of Cups (reversed) and Queen of Swords

Someone may be rationalizing or overthinking a perceived imbalance in a relationship. Of course, the Queen of Swords, likely an air placement, is intelligent, they may be right in their thinking but because of the advice received, I believe their judgment is clouded by insecurity. They may feel unworthy of what they receive, seeing that you chose the cactus charm and have libra as an astro card, it is very likely that this is you but this may be your person as well, both options are possible.

Advice:

King of Cups and IV of Swords (reversed)

See, the King of Cups is upright, this person, very likely a water placement, is very emotionally mature, compassionate, and understanding. Whereas the swords person is exhausted and stagnant due to the deep contemplation happening. I feel they may also be insecure, causing the overthinking. If this is you, trust me, you deserve the King of Cups! If this is your person, make them realize that they deserve you! They need a lot of reassurance.

1. Agrimony and 7. Chestnut Bud and Morning Glory

Love, whether romantic or platonic, requires hard work, determination, and affection. Agrimony talks about a person that needs balance, both inside and outside. You may find it by showing more of yourself, especially by starting with your loved ones. Because you might not be used to it, start little by little, and observe how accepting those you love can be. Chestnut Bud talks about focus and learning from experience. For me, it's another confirmation that someone is overthinking, see the girl looking very melancholic, whereas their counterpart is goofing around. Don't take life too seriously! Have fun with your loved one!

Pile 3

Charm: Leaf

You might see certain trees or leaves as signs from the universe. When I picked up this charm I immediately thought "Leave!" So if you were thinking about a voyage, there's your sign, just be mindful of covid regulations, please. The idea of falling also popped up, so you might be falling for someone rn or feeling like you're in a perpetual fall emotionally.

Flower: Orchid

I would just like to point out that, although this orchid dried white, it was actually a baby purple orchid when alive. I will therefore explain both colors: purple orchids represent royalty, admiration, and respect, whereas white ones symbolize purity and innocence. But they are, no matter what color, always a symbol of luxury, delicate beauty, and virility.

Significator: 0. The Fool

You may be starting smth new with confidence, smth you haven't done before, making you a bit inexperienced, but still willing to take the leap of faith. OR you may be acting foolishly by looking back or the opposite way of the thing you'd do with confidence. Let me explain, as you can see the Astro cards are both looking in one direction, with determination, and confidence. Whereas The Fool is looking the opposite way. Your significator may be saying that you're being foolish to look the other way, wondering what-ifs.

Astro: Sagittarius and Mars

There is a high chance that you have Sagittarius, Aries, or Scorpio placements. You may be fire dominant. You may be Jupiter/Mars dominant/ruled. This could also apply to the person you need advice on if that is the case.

You have a clear goal that you can easily reach through your actions. Look at Mars' demeanor, he knows Sagittarius is hitting the target. Do not doubt yourself, there's nothing to worry about. Stay focused!

What you need advice on:

XI. Justice (reversed) and Queen of Cups

Clearly, there is a decision to be made here, and you really want to listen to your heart. And you're questioning whether you should? I just want to reassure you, the Queen of Cups is highly in tune with their intuition and their emotions, you should trust yourself.

Advice:

X of Swords (reversed) and II of Pentacles

You are clearly in pain, whether or not it is talking about this decision that is eating you up. Healing and recovery are important right now! It's time to stop resisting an inevitable end, and start recovering. Look, the reversal allows for the swords to just fall out of your back, just look inwards! Don't forget to balance work with fun, you deserve to relax! Another way to see this is that you are restricting yourself by seeing this as a choice, why not do both? Although, if we are talking about people here, there better be a mutual agreement on polygamy! I will not invite you to cheat! If we are talking about activities, you are capable of doing both if it's too hard to choose, you just need to figure out how to balance them. A specific message is that some of you want to go back to doing smth you've dreamt of doing as a child, if that is the case, pls do it, at least as a hobby!

13. Gorse and 32. Vine and Trumpet Gentian

There is a need to heal some inner wounds. I immediately thought of inner child work when I saw the Trumpet Gentian in combination with the Vine. Vine talks about acts of service and leadership skills, try parenting yourself/your inner child, give yourself the love that you may have lacked as a kid. You are worthy of it! Gorse is all about perspective and imagination. Do a brainstorming of possible outcomes depending on the decision you take, you can do this alone, but the input of loved ones that can be honest with you would do wonders. Don't forget your future can go in many different ways, and whichever decision you take is the right one!

Pile 4

Charm: Angel

You may see angels or angel numbers as signs from the universe. You are a person that is divinely guided and divinely protected. It seems to me like you have a very strong intuition or are very aware of your divine gifts.

Flower: Rose

Of course, roses are always symbolic of love. Therefore I believe it is more note-worthy here to talk about the size. This is a tiny rose. Just like the carnation bud, it did not have time to grow and is now immortalized in its youth stage. You may be inexperienced in love, or hold naive beliefs about it. You might be experiencing youthful romance right now.

Significator: XV. The Devil

What I find interesting here is that you got the angel charm with the devil significator. This is very conflicting energy. The sentence that I kept thinking throughout the reading is "wolf in sheep clothing" or "sheep in wolf's clothing", I kept mixing up the words, just very contradictory energy. The way you present yourself to the world is very different from how you truly are. You might also be a person prone to obsessing over people, things, interests, etc. I also would like to note here that this pile was the hardest to get the cards, the amount of shuffling I did here until the cards flew made me sweat hahaha. It's also a very confusing reading. Therefore, I believe you carry a lot of confusion yourself, although your intuition is incredibly powerful, you might suffer from being very paranoid, and sometimes being unable to differentiate your intuition from your delusions. I also think you're very secretive, you do not want people to know or understand you.

Astro: Neptune and Moon

There is a high chance that you have Pisces or Cancer placements. You may be water dominant. You may be Neptune/Moon dominant/ruled. You could have a Neptune/Moon aspect. This could also apply to the person you need advice on if that is the case.

"This is a time of great psychic sensitivity for you. Trust your intuition and follow its guidance." You should try to differentiate emotions from intuition, I know it's hard, but they are different things, and it's very important to tell them apart! Your dreams may hold messages, try having a dream journal and interpreting them if you don't do that already.

What you need advice on:

IX of Wands (reversed) and V of Swords (reversed)

As you can see ALL of the tarot cards I've received in this reading are reversed, implying inner conflicts that require inner change/work. You might've said/done smth you now regret, and you hate yourself for it, you may also be incredibly paranoid that others will find out. You want the paranoia to end. You want to make amends, to reconciliate/atone, but are unsure on whether you should do it. Perhaps you don't feel emotionally prepared to reopen that wound.

Advice:

V. The Hierophant (reversed) and VII of Wands (reversed)

What I noticed here is that The Hierophant mirrors The Devil, not as perfectly as The Lovers, but it is incredibly similar. Once again that energy of opposition, contradiction, and confusion appears, "the wolf in sheep's clothing". For some, my fixation on this phrase could be a warning. For others an invitation to look in the mirror... Try looking at the situation from the other person's point of view! I'm not saying you are a "wolf in sheep's clothing", but that might be how you're being perceived. You are exhausted, remorse is eating up all of your energy. The Hierophant is saying that you should stay true to your personal beliefs, so if you believe apologizing is necessary to move on, do it!

This could be unrelated and for a specific person, but don't be afraid of challenging the status quo! If it hurts none, do as you will, embody your true self! I just want to remind you that going against your loved one's idea of "normalcy" is not hurting them, it's loving yourself. But remember that you also don't owe anyone a "coming out", you are valid whether or not you tell people! Do whatever your heart tells you and please be safe!

!!! : Of course, this doesn't count if what's challenging the status quo doesn't respect others' identity/ sexuality/ ethnicity/ religion/ etc. If challenging the status quo comes from a place of hate please block me. Nobody is using this reading as a sign to do some fucked up shit.

3. Beech and 2. Aspen and Lily

When I saw Beech I immediately thought "talk to someone, or you could spiral." Beech talks about self-acceptance and self-compassion. You must first accept yourself as you are, an imperfect human being, like all humans, before starting to work on embodying your highest self. Stay open-minded! Aspen, on the other hand, invites you to connect with others, not only for advice or consoling but for quality time! I have a feeling that you have very high morals, but having them isn't enough, you must act accordingly!

Thank you for reading! Love you all.♡

You can buy me a coffee if you feel called to do so! This is never necessary, but always appreciated! ♡

[shingia]

❝𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫 - 𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫❞

FINALLY a bokuto fic ! i've rarely had this much fun writing so i hope you’ll like it !

summary : bokuto would’ve never imagined that his new neighbor would be so hot. and he would have never imagined he’d be her type. actually, there are many more things bokuto would have never imagined…

⤷ bokuto x fem!reader | slight nsfw, fluff? | word count : 3.1K

bokuto would’ve never imagined that his new neighbor would be so hot. and he would have never imagined he’d be her type. actually, there are many more things bokuto would have never imagined…

bokuto had long ago given up on the idea of ever living out his « mysterious hot neighbor » fantasy ; he had resigned. yet there you were, your back turned to his front door, struggling with your keys while carrying two big cardboard boxes. maybe today was finally his lucky day ?

« hi… um, do you need help ? » he asked before closing his door and taking a step towards you. too focused on your keys, you hadn’t even noticed that someone was behind you and almost dropped a box when you heard his voice. with the warmest smile he had ever seen, you accepted his proposition. and honestly, even if you had not wanted his help, it would have been hard to pretend you weren’t struggling.

he quickly wrapped an arm around the biggest box, holding it from below with his other hand before taking a step back to let you open the door. it took you about a second to stop staring at his arms and focus on the doorknob instead. today sure seemed like your lucky day too…

« nobody told me i’d have a new neighbor » he said as he entered your apartment right after you. a huge effort from his part had been required not to change « new » to « hot » at the last minute. and he mentally thanked himself for having a decent amount of tact.

« yeah, the moving was pretty rushed. and it also explains the obvious lack of decoration » you responded while pointing to your gloomy living room, completely empty except for your cat sleeping in a corner.

bokuto put the box he was holding on your kitchen table before giving a quick look around. « yeah, i can’t say it’s very welcoming for now » he stated, « need more help ? i can carry more stuff if you want »

i’m sure you can, you thought, still having trouble looking away from his arms that his t-shirt revealed right under his shoulder. « actually, there are still three boxes on the landing… » you started, fiddling with the cloth of your jacket.

he raised a hand, not needing to hear more to go fetch the said boxes and bring them back in an impressively short amount of time.

you would have loved to offer him something to drink as a thank you, but you had not been grocery shopping yet and the only thing you could have given him was a glass of plain water.

and bokuto would have loved to stay more, but he had left his apartment for a reason, which was a team meeting that took place in about ten minutes now. reluctantly, he left you alone to deal with your boxes but promised himself that he would see you later during the day. « i’ll be back in two hours, feel free to knock on my door if you need anything » he exclaimed from the stairs, looking up at you who was still on the doorframe.

when you went back inside, your noticed that the faint scent of his perfume was still lingering in your kitchen, bringing your mind back to the charming figure of your new neighbor. and you spent the next two hours thinking about an excuse to knock on his door before the end of the day.

it turned out that bokuto had been a substantial help in your moving. especially for the first two weeks, where he had gladly helped you out with ingredients you didn’t have or just helped you build a few shelves. so obviously, you had to invite him over for a drink when you were finally settled in.

but little did you know that, if he never left your mind, you certainly didn’t leave his either. even his teammates noticed that he was more glowing than usual, and he did not even bother to deny it. « yeah, maybe it’s true love… » he’d say dramatically, earning countless teases from his team.

when bokuto knocked on your front door, you almost ran to open him before immediately putting your hand on his eyes. he had not yet seen the decorated interior, but he was more than proud to be the first you were showing it to. you grabbed his arm to lead him to the living room, (un)intentionally making him bump in a few furnitures before taking your hand off. 

« no way, are you kidding me ?! » he exclaimed as you spun gracefully to point out your surroundings. « you’ve done all that in two weeks ?! it took me six months to just choose a carpet ! ». with a chuckle, you thanked him and told him to go sit on the couch as you headed to the kitchen to get two glasses. 

but as you opened the drawer, you heard him let out a cry of surprise and immediately turned around. « i swear to god your cat wants me dead, y/n ! » he exclaimed, looking defiantly at your cat who was hissing at him from the other side of the couch.

« no he doesn’t ! look at him, he’s so cute ! besides, it’s your fault if he doesn’t like you, you shouldn’t have walked on his tail the second time you met him… »

bokuto let out a grumble as he dropped on the couch, telling you for the hundredth time that it was just an « unfortunate accident ».

the truth was that, the day of the « accident », he had been too busy looking at you cleaning the shelf that you had just built together to notice your cat’s tail in front of him. but he would never admit it.

« look, he scratched me ! » he insisted, showing you the tiniest scratch on his palm when you got back from the kitchen.

with a scoff, you put the glasses down and grabbed his hand to inspect it. as usual when your skin touched his, an electric shock ran up your spine. but for some reason, the shock did not stop at your spine today, it went straight up to your brain, causing you to mechanically bring his hand to your lips and gently kiss the scratch. you had trouble believing what you had just done, but managed to play it cool as you took a seat on the couch.

« i should get scratches more often » he mumbled to himself, his eyes still wide as he kept staring at his palm.

your lips parted in surprise, not quite sure you had heard him right. but if you had, then this might’ve been the little push you needed to finally ease the tension between the two of you.

« what did you say ? » you asked, feeling your body temperature increasing when his eyes darted to yours. for the first time since you knew him, bokuto seemed to have lost the confidence that usually radiated from him as he muttered « me ? oh, nothing… ».

well, if he wasn’t decided to make the first move, you were certainly not going to let this chance slip. « actually… i’m 99% sure i heard you right. and if i have, then… » you spoke before leaning in to kiss his cheek softly. as you parted, the temperature went up another notch. « …and if i haven’t, well this is probably very awkward for you. sorry » you let out with a nervous laugh.

you could almost hear the cogs turning in bokuto’s head while he intensely thought about what he was supposed to do now. well, he knew what he wanted to do, but he didn’t know if it was appropriate enough. his familiar grin spread on his lips again, but there was a light in his eyes that you had never seen yet.

« does that mean i can kiss you ? » he asked, his heart pounding in his chest just at the thought of you saying no. you let out a lighthearted laugh that was like music to his ears and he looked at you like the eighth wonder of the world before carefully capturing your lips with his. 

in the bliss of the moment, your flesh against his mouth felt like porcelain and he tried to hold back, too scared that he might damage you if he let go. but there was something about the way you deepened the kiss with every movement that made him forget about holding back as he pushed you down onto the couch, ignoring the hiss from your cat and just smiling at the sight of you so close to his body.

« you’ve been on my mind more than allowed » he breathed out, cupping your cheek with his large hand. he pulled his face away a few inches more just to get a better view of yours and chuckled when he noticed you were already out of breath. « seems like i’ve been on yours too » he smiled before giving a quick peck at the corner of your lips.

he was right. way too much. and that’s why you avidly pushed his head back down to crash his mouth onto yours again ; his chest tensed with pride at the thought that you already couldn’t get enough of him. slowly but surely, he put all his weigh on one of his arms as the other one glided down your chest until his fingers met with your skin, sending shivers down your whole body.

bokuto felt like he needed to have more of you under his touch and let his fingers wander on every inch of your belly, like his hand had finally found its purpose. his mouth started to trail kisses on your cheek, sweet and loving until it reached your jaw. and by the time his lips were against your neck, the kisses got rougher, impatient to get a taste of the different textures of your body.

you were absolutely helpless, weighed down by his body and unable to form coherent thoughts as he began to suck on your neck amorously. you could feel he relished every point of contact between your body and his, making you feel more wanted than you ever did.

once he was satisfied with the mark he left on your neck, he lifted his head to look at his work. proud of himself, he then looked into your eyes and whispered as if you guys were in public : « is this really happening right now ? ». there was an endearing contrast between the innocence and the sweetness of his tone and his firm grip around your waist that you suspected might leave a mark.

« it is », you answered as you started to stroke his back that seemed way too large for you to wrap your arms around. as much as you loved to look at him, you already missed the taste of his lips and stretched your neck to reach for them. but just as they were about to touch, you were interrupted by the familiar sound of your phone, ringing on the coffee table.

the two of you froze and, with a groan, you tried to reach for it without moving : unsuccessfully. bokuto got off of you and you were finally able to grab your phone and look at the screen to discover who had the audacity to interrupt such a long-awaited moment.

but all your frustration immediately left place to panic when you read the name on the screen. « oh fuck ! i forgot that I told my cousin he could come by today. ughh… I love him but right now he’s not the one I wanna see » you whined before picking up.

the phone call brought bokuto down to earth in an instant. still sat on the couch, his eyes were wide by just thinking about what had happened between the two of you. amazed, he stared at his hands like they’d had the privilege to touch some kind of protected work of art.

« alright, see you in a minute ! » you ended the call before throwing your phone on the couch and heaving a heavy sigh : « he’ll be here in five minutes ».

bokuto tilted his head to the side and shrugged before putting his hands back on your waist and leaning in. « then let’s hurry » he grinned before smashing his lips onto yours again. reluctantly, you put a hand on his chest to push him back. but your hands were not blind to the burning desire in your heart and instead, gripped his t-shirt to pull him closer. he let out a gasp of surprise, which turned into a wide smile as he leaned against the backrest, letting you straddle his lap.

« just two more minutes, then you’re out of here » you whispered against his lower lip. « deal » he chuckled, letting his hands find their way back to your bare skin.

the feeling of his body against yours already felt like home, and the two minutes passed at the speed of light. you were internally debating whether you could afford to let yourselves one more minute, but something else made it obvious that you couldn’t. indeed, it was now his phone’s turn to ring.

« really ? but no one ever calls me ! » he sighed as you got off of his lap with an amused smile. he grabbed his phone before raising an eyebrow when he saw the name on the screen. « hey, what’s up ? » he asked, putting the phone to his ear.

you could only hear a muffled voice coming from the device, but it was enough to pique your curiosity and pay attention to what the person was saying. because that voice sounded horribly familiar…

« i sound out of breath ? » bokuto repeated, giving you a knowing wink. you leaned in closer to hear the answer from his friend : « no way… are you with someone right now ? that’s my boy ! osaka’s really working out for you, huh ? ». with a proud shrug, bokuto was forced to admit that yes, it was. his friend spoke again, and you were still eavesdropping. « anyways, i called you because i’m actually seconds away from your apartment. turns out my cousin lives in the same building ! i thought we could catch up, but i certainly don’t want to disturb you right now ».

both bokuto and you were left speechless. he quickly covered his phone’s speaker with his hand and scream-whispered : « WHAT THE FUCK ?! YOU’RE KUROO’S COUSIN ? ».

your were still gawking at the news, but bokuto’s terrified eyes pulled you out of your daze pretty fast. he jumped a foot away from you, almost like he was scared of being so close. « HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU WERE FRIENDS ? » you whispered back, panic settling in your belly. « WELL HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU WERE HIS COUSIN ?! ».

on the other side of the line, kuroo called bokuto’s name, probably confused by what was going on. you guys agreed that the best thing to do was to hang up as quickly as possible and to send bokuto back to his apartment before kuroo had time to go up the stairs.

« oh my fucking god, i almost hooked up with kuroo’s cousin… » bokuto kept repeating after hanging up, this close to hyperventilating. you stood up from the couch and grabbed him by the arm to get him off the couch ; the clock was ticking. « THE FUCKING CAT WAS A CLUE ! » he yelled, pointing accusingly at your cat who was looking at him from the chair he was curled up on.

bokuto seemed incapable of thinking coherently so you had to bring him his shoes yourself before hurrying him out, covering his mouth to make sure he wasn’t going to keep yelling on the landing.

« we’ll sort this out later, just go home now ! » you whispered as you opened the door.

still shaking his head no frantically like he had committed a crime, he got out of your apartment and pulled his keys out. but after making the first step towards his door, he turned around and got back to you just to give a quick peck on your lips. « it doesn’t mean we won’t finish what we started, though » he said before finally walking to his door.

you felt your cheeks turn red instantly. but just as you grabbed your doorknob, the dreaded voice of your cousin resounded in the staircase.

it felt like everything around you was in suddenly in slow motion. kuroo climbing up the stairs, bokuto too panicked to get his keys into the lock : you were basically counting down the seconds before the disaster.

kuroo only had five steps left to your floor. but he stopped right where he was when his eyes laid on the familiar silhouette of his friend, who was quietly cursing himself and his keys.

then his eyes moved to you. your lips were red and swollen, your hair was messier than usual and most importantly, your neck was bruised.

kuroo let out the most offended gasp, putting his hand where his heart was as his eyes went back and forth between you and bokuto.

« no… NO ! PLEASE NO ! » he implored you, seconds away from begging on his knees. bokuto turned around and made eye contact with his friend ; obviously embarrassed, he tried to give him a nice smile to calm him down. but it had the opposite effect on kuroo : « you. are. dead. » he let out before suddenly running after his friend.

bokuto immediately let out a high-pitched scream, but luckily, he managed to open his door and close it right at kuroo’s nose. you were still on your doorframe, awkwardly standing there and waiting for your turn to get scolded. but kuroo didn’t seem done with his friend. « you can’t hide forever ! » he screamed before starting to pound at his door.

yeah, that day definitely didn’t go as planned. in more than one way.

[sevlgi]

white knight

requested: yes

group: red velvet

pairing: irene x fem!reader

genre: fluff, mild angst

contents: college!au, scaredy cat!irene

warnings: swearing

synopsis: Irene isn’t looking to be saved by a white knight, but she can’t help falling for you when you rescue her. From a spider. In a college dorm.

a/n: i’m sorry for how long this took me 😂 I hope you enjoy!

word count: 3.8k

It’s not a super fun thing to be woken up by a blood-curdling scream at 4 in the morning.

The hallways and rooms of your dorm building are especially echoey, causing the scream to sound like it’s erupting right next to you. Considering that you’re not a heavy sleeper, it’s pretty damn terrifying.

“Shit,” you gasp, fumbling to get out of bed. Your dorm is pitch dark, as it has been for the past week or so while most people in your building have been gone for winter break. You thought you were the last one left, but clearly, that’s not true. “What the hell?”

The scream sounds again, louder and shriller this time, and you wince, stuffing your feet into shoes that you’re sure don’t match and grabbing the heaviest textbook you can find. Your campus is supposed to be pretty safe, but judging by the screams, there’s probably a serial killer on campus, and you’ll definitely die fighting them off.

It’s not hard to find the room of the screamer; it’s the only door ajar at the end of the hallway, bright light spilling out from inside. Honestly, it’s weird for a killer to keep the door open and the lights on, but your sleep-deprived brain doesn’t make much of it, and you kick the door open violently.

There’s an ugly cracking sound as the doorknob slams into the wall, but you’re focused on the fact that there’s definitely not a killer in the dorm. No, there’s only one person inside, a petite girl in a bathrobe and face mask, standing on top of her bed and screaming at the open door of the bathroom. “What- did you crack my wall?” she demands, staring at you.

“I- that doesn’t matter, what the fuck are you screaming at?”

She points a shaking hand at the bathroom, and you’re half-expecting to see a rabid dog or a dead body. Instead, it takes almost a full minute for you to find the spider on the tiled floor. “The fuck- you’re screaming about a spider?” you groan, already wishing you didn’t get out of bed for this.

The girl frowns and crosses her arms. “Well, yes. Spiders are scary. If you don’t mind, could you kill it? You did break my wall.”

You smash it with your foot, scraping it along the floor to leave a streak of spider guts. The girl’s still staring at her gross floor when you whirl around with your hands on your hips, about to give her a piece of your mind. “Why the hell? You gotta be more considerate, it’s 4 in the morning and you’re screaming your head off about a tiny-ass bug.”

“It’s not my fault I have arachnophobia,” she snaps back, and you bristle at the audacity. “I mean, I didn’t ask for some white-knight wannabe to burst in and ruin my wall.”

“Wh-” you sputter. Drawing yourself up to your full considerably unimpressive height, you spit out, “Well, fuck you. Next time there’s an actual serial killer, I’ll just leave you here to be smeared on the floor like that goddamn spider. Again, fuck you!”

“Wannabe,” she calls out behind you, muffled when you slam the door shut. You want to believe it’s a fever dream, but the reality of it is that you have a rude-ass neighbor with a horror movie scream, and you didn’t get enough sleep to survive class.

All a day in the life of a college student, right?

“Pleeeaaasseeee.”

You glare menacingly at Jisoo, who doesn’t even flinch. “No.”

“Come on,” your roommate pleads, tugging on your arm. She’s all too used to your stubbornness to give up on something she wants you to do now. “Please? I really want you to meet Jennie!”

“Come on, Jisoo,” you sigh, still typing away at the essay you started an hour too late. “You’re dating the most popular girl on campus, and you want me to come to dinner with the two of you?” At Jisoo’s nod, you roll your eyes and ignore her pout. “You’re kidding.”

The brunette groans; even her patience has a limit. “Jennie’s so sweet, she’ll love you! Besides, she’s bringing her roommate.”

“Should I care?”

“A really hot roommate,” Jisoo amends. “Absolutely your type. I’ve met her, she’s so gorgeous. Her name is Joohyun, and she’s a year above you, I think. She’s super pretty and super sweet and I’m pretty sure she’s super gay-”

Your hand, clamped over Jisoo’s mouth, cuts off the flow of unnecessary information. Honestly, even the mention of a pretty girl isn’t enough to get you to want to go to dinner with your roommate and her uber-popular girlfriend, but you know Jisoo will just reschedule if you don’t come and nag you until you agree. “Fine. I’ll come, but I won’t be happy about it.”

“Trust me, you’ll definitely be happy,” Jisoo squeals, pressing an exaggerated kiss to your forehead before leaving the room, probably to tell her girlfriend the news.

You don’t pay any attention to your easily excited best friend, simply continuing to type away. The mention of dinner with a pretty girl quickly slips away to the back of your mind, a vague throb in the background.

“I think I see them,” Jisoo tells you with a huge grin on her face. You’re sitting in a booth opposite her, and you’ve been ignoring your roommate’s hands tapping at the table for at least 20 minutes now.

“You said that 10 minutes ago,” you grumble, flipping through the menu. Honestly, one of the only things that got you to agree to the stupid dinner was the promise of food, and your mouth is practically watering at the pictures of ramen on the menu. “Are you sure it’s them?”

Your roommate quickly smooths her hair down, grabbing your face to check your makeup and ignoring your disgruntled noise. “Yes, I’m sure. Can you at least smile?”

Luckily, there’s no more time for Jisoo to fuss over you; you spot Jennie first, recognizing her by her cute gummy smile and expensive perfume. However, when your eyes travel to the girl behind Jennie, your jaw drops in time with hers.

To anyone else, it would seem like you’re simply shocked by how pretty the girl is, and that’s partially true. ‘Joohyun’, as you remember, is absolutely gorgeous, to the point where she seems unreal. Porcelain skin, glossy raven hair, and dark eyes widened in shock make her easily the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen.

However, you can’t help but see a face mask and bathrobe that no one else can see, and you can hear an ear-piercing scream rattling in your ears. Maybe Joohyun sees the oversized shirt you wore that night, a shoe in your hand that you used to smash a stupid spider.

Either way, you’re not letting Jisoo know about what you did.

Extending your hand with the fakest smile you can muster, you introduce yourself. “Hi, Joohyun, right? I’m Y/N.”

“Um, yeah. Hi.” After taking your hand, she slides into the booth next to you, although you’re sure she’s almost hanging off the edge with how much space is between the two of you. You’re the direct opposites of Jennie and Jisoo, who are practically glued together opposite you.

Jisoo’s oblivious, but she’s not oblivious enough to miss the tension between you, and Jennie has practically no tact. Her sharp eyes observe the icy stare Joohyun gives you and she asks, “Do you two know each other?”

“No,” Joohyun answers immediately, her cold expression melting into a sweet smile when she looks to her roommate. “She just looks like someone I met a few days ago. Remember the girl I told you about?”

“Yeah,” Jennie laughs, covering her smile with her hand. “Yeah, I remember. You still haven’t fixed that crack in our wall, you know.”

You pray that Jisoo doesn’t ask for details, but of course, she does. “What crack?” she smiles, eyes lighting up at the promise of a story. Really, Jisoo?

“Oh, you know how everyone was gone for winter break?” Joohyun smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear. It’s not fair how gorgeous she looks. “There was a spider in my bathroom, so obviously I screamed.”

“Are spiders that scary?” you can’t help yourself from blurting out. Jisoo raises an eyebrow at you. “I mean, it couldn’t have been too big.”

“Anyway,” Joohyun continues, fully ignoring you. You bristle at her dismissive attitude, but stay silent to hear whatever lies she’s spinning about you. “This girl busts into my dorm and throws the door open so hard that it makes a huge crack in the wall!”

“Damn,” Jisoo comments. You want to glare at her, but that’ll just be painfully obvious. “Who was she?”

The brunette beside you laughs, shaking her head. “I don’t know! But I fully intend to find her and make her pay for my wall. To be honest, she looked a lot like Y/N, about this tall, with this hair color too. Even her face looks similar!”

“That’s funny,” Jennie chimes in now. “You should try your best to find her then, if you’ve got Y/N as a reference. It’s gonna be expensive to fix up the wall. Do you think we’ll get in trouble with administration?”

Jisoo shakes her head, and you watch on helplessly as your roommate digs you into an even bigger hole. “You won’t if you fix it in time. Y/N can help you guys!”

“Really?” Two sets of eyes turn skeptically onto you. 

“I own a kit to fill in walls,” you blurt out, cursing internally. Honestly, you want to slap yourself. “Yeah, I can help you guys fill in the crack. It’ll look like nothing happened.”

Jennie offers you a gummy smile. “That’d be great! Would tomorrow work for you?”

All of a sudden, Joohyun’s eyes grow wide and she protests, “Neither of us will be home though, maybe we should wait until you have a free day?”

“Nonsense, you’ll be there. You don’t have class tomorrow, remember?” Jennie grins, flapping her hand and looking down at the menu. “You can stop by anytime, Y/N. Now, should we order? I’ll pay.”

As your roommate cooes about how considerate her girlfriend is, you studiously avoid Joohyun’s eyes. Honestly, you have no idea if you’ll survive tomorrow, not if you’re faced with a hot girl with an obvious grudge against you.

Fuck.

“Uh, would you mind opening the door a little more?”

Joohyun stares at you suspiciously through the tiny crack that she’s opened the door. You can’t help but notice how pretty she looks, hair up in a messy ponytail and dressed in a simple white shirt, but you school your expression into a frown to mirror hers. “Step away first.”

“What the fuck,” you sigh, shifting the spackling kit under your arm. “I’m not gonna slam the goddamn door again, just open it and let me in. Or do you want to explain to administration why you have a crack in your wall?”

“Because you’re an asshole,” she mumbles, opening the door just enough for you to squeeze through. “Who the hell barges into someone else’s dorm at 2 in the morning?”

“It was 4 in the morning,” you snap back, although there’s a twinge of guilt in your chest at the sight of the huge crack in the wall. The cracks aren’t wide, thank god, but there’s a lot of them. “And I barged in because I thought you were being murdered! Who the hell screams like that because of a tiny-ass spider?”

She hesitates at that, and you smirk, satisfied. Crossing her arms, Joohyun scowls, “Whatever. So, am I supposed to pay you for this or something? I don’t know how much I’d usually pay to get someone to do this for me, so don’t overcharge.”

You stare at her, at the brown eyes darting to look at anywhere but you. “What? Jesus, I’m not that much of an asshole. You don’t have to pay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, the fuck?” you mumble, starting to open the kit you’ve set on the floor. “Did you think that little of me?”

Joohyun rolls her eyes, but you think you can see the tiniest bit of a smile tugging at her lip. “I mean, you did make that crack. It’s the least you can do.”

‘“Look, I feel bad about the crack, but you didn’t need to embarrass me in front of my roommate. You made it painfully obvious that the asshole you were talking about was me,” you frown, looking up at her.

She wordlessly places a cup of water by you, settling down in a chair a few feet away with a thoughtful twist to her brow. “Mm. Whatever, it got you to fix my wall for free.”

“Yeah, and I’m not doing it again. I’m keeping my promise that if you get murdered next time, I’m not coming to save you.”

“Sure you will,” Joohyun laughs, and you can’t help but stare at the way her eyes shine.

Suddenly, you’re not sure you will either.

The next time you see Joohyun is a few days later at 2 in the morning in the communal washing machine area.

“We’ve got to stop meeting at ass o’clock in the morning” is your greeting to her.

She looks tired, you note, although you’re sure you do too. There’s only 6 washing machines in a floor with a couple hundred students, so ass o’clock of the morning is usually when you come to steal two of the machines for you and Jisoo. Whenever Jisoo agrees to do the laundry, she miraculously finds an empty machine at a convenient time, but you’re nowhere near as lucky.

“Hey, Y/N,” Joohyun yawns, rubbing at her eyes. She’s carrying an empty hamper, probably for clothes she washed earlier. You wonder which one of the swirling machines is hers. “It seems that this is the only time of day you’re awake.”

To be honest, you don’t appreciate being teased for your choice of afternoon classes to preserve your sleep, and you tell Joohyun so. However, you do appreciate the small smile that cracks her usually impassive face. “Anyways, need help?”

“What?”

“Need. Help?” you say again, enunciating the words exaggeratedly and earning a halfhearted slap. She doesn’t respond, only opening two of the still machines. “Really, two machines? How many clothes do you have?”

“Some are Jennie’s,” Joohyun scowls, flipping a shirt more aggressively than strictly necessary. “I think some are Jisoo’s too.”

You snort, holding a pink shirt that you’re sure belongs to your roommate. “I better not find any underwear or something.”

“With how often Jisoo sleeps over, I wouldn’t be surprised,” the other girl sighs. “Seriously, how did you not meet Jennie before that dinner?”

“Apparently, Jisoo didn’t want me to get the wrong impression by hearing them fuck in the other room or something.”

“How considerate,” Joohyun says dryly, and you don’t manage to suppress your laugh. When you calm down, you realize that Joohyun’s staring at you, though she quickly averts her eyes. “No, I’m serious. I heard Jennie moan Jisoo’s name enough times before I met her that i didn’t even need to be introduced.”

You scrunch your nose, observing the neat way the other girl folds her laundry and copying. “Gross. I thought Jisoo would be the loud one.”

“No, she’s pretty loud too.”

“Oh, ew,” you protest. “I mean, that can be hot sometimes, but Jisoo probably sounds like a dying duck.”

“And you don’t?” Joohyun shoots back. Almost immediately, her pale cheeks color to a deep pink, even though you didn’t have remotely enough time to make an innuendo in your head. “Oh my god, that’s not what I meant, I don’t care what you sound like-”

“Shut up, I didn’t even think of that,” you snort, still folding laundry. “You’ve got a crazy dirty mind if you immediately connected those two things.”

Joohyun throws a shirt at your face and you yelp, catching it only to throw it back. Somehow, it breaks the tension and you both start laughing, folding laundry while exchanging jabs at your respective roommates.

Maybe she’s not as bad as you thought.

It becomes almost a tradition to meet at the laundry room at 2 in the morning on Fridays. The next time is accidental, but after that, you’re sure that Joohyun’s making changes to her schedule just to catch you doing your and your roommate’s laundry and joke with you.

You become sort-of-friends, although you rarely hang out outside of folding shirts together. Sometimes, when Jisoo and Jennie are being gross together, one of you will escape to the others’ dorm, but that’s about it.

What worries you is the not-so-friendly thoughts you begin to have about Joohyun. Sometimes, you can’t seem to stop staring at the girl’s lips, and you feel the itch to hold her hand. 

It’s weird.

Therefore, you’ve been forcing Jisoo to do the laundry for the last week and keeping out of your dorm to avoid seeing your sort-of-friend.

You’re only home when Jennie comes knocking because Jisoo makes you stay home while she goes out with friends. You really can’t fathom who’s at your door, so you yank it open.

“Um… hi?” Jennie offers, a sheepish smile on her face. “I brought dessert.” True to her word, her arms are laden with boxes upon boxes of sweets, all of them your favorites.

“Is this a bribe?” You wince at the words that come out, knowing that they sound accusing. “Sorry, just…”

Jennie shrugs, placing the boxes on a table. “I mean, you’re not wrong. I am bribing you.”

Shoving a pastry in your mouth, you cross your arms and try not to look smug. “What for? You’ve got me in a good mood, it’s in your favor to ask now.”

Your roommate’s girlfriend laughs, hesitantly taking one of the desserts when you offer them. “Well. Jisoo and I actually had a really nice date planned for Valentine’s Day, but we can’t go. You probably know Jisoo has a family emergency, right?”

You manage to nod sympathetically despite your cheeks being stuffed full of sweets. “I’m going with her, she’s so worried that I don’t trust her to fly across the country on her own. But we don’t want our date to go to waste.”

“Okay, but what does this have to do with me?”

Jennie shifts, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Right, so Joohyun’s willing to go on the date, but I don’t want her to do it all alone. Would you be willing to go with her?”

At your slight frown, she rambles, “It doesn’t have to be a date for you guys, it’s just a nice dinner! You know, it can just be a nice hangout between friends who definitely don’t have feelings for each other.”

“Do you know something?” There’s a slight jump in your pulse; there’s no way Jennie could know that you might have feelings for her roommate, but you’re nervous nonetheless. What if she’s told Joohyun?

She blushes, chewing lightly on her lower lip. “Of course not! So. Will you do it?”

It barely takes a moment of thinking for you to say, “Sure, I’ll go on a date with Joohyun.” You wince lightly at the blunt way you said it, clarifying, “A not-date. With my friend.”

“Good,” Jennie sighs, standing. She returns to her confident popular-girl image with a smile, handing you a little envelope with a time and date written on it. “Have fun.”

“I will,” you mumble, staring at the envelope.

What have you got to be nervous about? You’re just hanging out with your friend, who you definitely don’t have feelings for and who definitely doesn’t have feelings for you either.

Right?

You really don’t know why you spend almost an hour getting ready for your not-date when you usually wouldn’t care what you wore to hang out with friends.

It feels stupid to frown at your simple outfit while piles of clothes surround you. Just on time, you hear Joohyun’s knock, 3 quick raps as always. 

“Hi,” you manage to get out, sounding more breathless than you’d like. She looks perfect as always, but she looks just as flustered as you feel. “Um, let’s go?”

“Right, yeah,” Joohyun mutters, shaking her head and walking faster than she should. “My car’s this way.”

Both of you are uncharacteristically quiet on the way to the car and even more so when Joohyun starts driving. It’s awkward, and you’re sure it has something to do with the fact that you have feelings for her.

You can’t muster up the courage to say something, but you remain silent until the two of you order food. Suddenly, Joohyun groans out, “This is so awkward.”

“Right?” Glancing around you to make sure people aren’t staring, you slump a bit, shaking your head. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She raises an eyebrow, sipping at the cup of wine she holds. “It’s not your fault, it’s just weird for us to be on a date when we’re just friends.”

As you frown, you can’t help but notice the slight blush on Joohyun’s cheekbones. “I mean, my feelings for you have got to make it weird, right?”

Immediately, Joohyun spits out the mouthful of unfortunately expensive wine, hacking and coughing as she stares at you. “Wh- feelings!?”

You can’t help the dark red flush rising to your face, definitely less flattering than Joohyun’s own. “Shut up, Jennie told me you knew.”

“I don’t,” she says, looking thoroughly convinced. “I was being awkward because I thought Jennie told you about my feelings.”

“Your feelings? What feelings?” You do your best not to be so loud when the other customers start looking your way, but you can’t help the shocked expression on your face.

Joohyun scowls now, staring anywhere but at you. “The same feelings as yours, idiot. Romantic ones, not-friends ones! Want-to-kiss-you feelings, want-to-go-on-dates-with-you feelings!”

“What…?” Realization dawns over you, your mouth forming a little ‘o’. “Jennie and Jisoo knew. They told each other about our feelings and set us up! I’ll bet they didn’t even have a dinner reservation!”

The girl opposite you groans, shaking her head. “Oh, this is so like them. They’re so meddling, I’m going to give them a piece of my mind once they get back!”

“Same.” You sit in silence for barely another moment before you blurt out, “So, you like me back?”

“Yes, you idiot,” Joohyun scowls, tossing her napkin at your head as if it can block the growing grin on your face. “Now shut up and enjoy the food.”

You do as you’re told, but dinner is definitely less awkward once the truth’s out. A weight is lifted from your shoulders now that your feelings are reciprocated, and you catch Joohyun smiling at you as if she feels the same way.

Maybe you don’t regret getting up to kill that spider after all. It’s still undecided.

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (28)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Do you have a favorite season? I love spring and winter. Ah spring... the most beautiful season, where flowers bloom just like love stories. Cherry blossoms... the petals that fall... a romantic movie scene, isn't it? And winter! a cold a little dry certainly ... but that is where we see the thing that amazes children. I'm not talking about Santa Claus, no. I'm talking about... Snow. There's so much you can do with snow! Snowmen, snow angels, snowball fights etc...

The falling snow brings magic to the scenery, the frozen lakes offer an incredible spectacle that allows you to play and fish... if we're careful not to break it. Because I don't know if you've ever tried swimming in a lake where the temperature is... icy, but if you want to fall into hypothermia, this is a good way to get there. but it's a good place to ice skate. If you are good enough then you will have no problem! but if you start then... you'll often hurt. Generally, what inspires you to ice skating are figure skating competitions. Unfortunately, at the moment, it is not winter. So, no ice skating. Or... You have to go to an ice rink. And that's exactly what Melina had planned to relax everyone. Especially Danny.

What put him in a bad mood? The fact that you went out with Melina last night? No no... You have the right to have fun with your friends from time to time. And he sincerely hopes you had a good time! After all, if you ever come to leave Roseville, with him, if possible, you may not be out again for a little while. No, what put our dear Danny in a bad mood is this asshole who tried to charm you at the restaurant. This wretched little bastard had the audacity to come to you, to talk to you, and in addition to touching you? And the whole thing, like he honestly thought it was going to work?

And the worst part of all this was you and Melina made it clear to him that you were already with someone. But that bastard didn't want to know. Danny finds his next victim. Thanks to you, he knows what he looks like, and when he comes into action, Danny won't miss him. No spectacular staging. A hard-line massacre. A Ghostface classic. No one has the right to touch you, even less seduce you. He doesn't know what he just got himself into. Want a good way to know when Danny's angry? Look at his eyes. They are a piercing blue as normal, well when he is angry or when he goes crazy, they are even more piercing. Like the eyes of a cat.

“Jed? Are you...Are you sure you’re alright?”  

Danny came out of his macabre dreams to watch you. Your voice, like a sweet melody to his ears, will give him a smile, his beautiful angel smile.

“Yes, excuse me. I was thinking of something else. Were you talking to me?” He asks, putting his glasses back on his nose.  

“No, I was the one talking to you. I told you not to worry about that asshole last night. We said to him to go f*ck himself, (y/n) and me. And believe me, he was doing one of those faces... he won't forget me.” respond Melina, looking in the rear-view mirror.

“I'm surprised you didn't give him an arm wrench. Or a kick where I think... I'm really surprised!” said Mattew to her with a sneaky smile.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Like what, you see that I can perfectly behave as a responsible person and act with tact and diplomacy ... before moving on to the offend. But believe me, it's not the desire that I missed. I didn't want to get banned from this restaurant anyway, it would piss me off.”

“Anyway, Melina's right. You don't have to worry about that jerk, Jeddy. It does not reach your ankle I reassure you! You're a lot sexier!” replied Mattew with a wink.

“You know if Chris finds out you said that, he's going to be jealous? but... Thank you Mattew. You're right, I don't have to get in my head for bullshit like that. But is it really necessary to go ice skating? we still have work to do you know...” said Danny. He was not going to take his head for very long, since he intends to kill him. And just that image made him shudder. He was looking forward to it.

“It's going to be good for everyone! and then we'll have fun! Don't be shy! This is not the first time we have done so. Especially you Jed.” respond Melina.  

Indeed, this is not the first time that Danny went ice skating. The Zanesville ice rink is quite large and there are not many people at this time. It's perfect, you're going to have the whole ice rink just for you... for at least two hours. Melina parked in front of the rink entrance and indeed, seen up close she was big. very big.

“How long has it been? Two years? it has not changed in any case .... I wonder if the boss still remembers the falls he took here.” says Mattew before entering, following by the others.  

“Don't worry, I think if you tell him, his lumbar will remember it. And his ass too.” respond Danny who makes you laugh.

Each one your turn, you rent ice skates. And one thing that made Danny laugh was that if he wears 40, you only wear 36. How cute, you have such small feet, in a sense it fits perfectly with your body and size. Everything is small in you. It's cute and it's funny, especially when you react to it. So small, so fragile... And yet a hell of a temper!

The ice rink was practically empty at that time, there was only a couple and two teenagers who visibly didn't have class today. Melina entered the ice first once everyone was ready, and if the start was a little difficult, she quickly took the hand. This was not the case for Mattew, who kept clinging to her every time he was about to fall.

“Have you ever done one? Or would you rather I give you a few classes? It looks like I'm a very good teacher...” said Danny to you with a wink.  

“Really funny Mr Olsen, but before you teach me, I'd like to see if you can last more than ten seconds without finishing your ass on the ice.” you respond with a little laugh.  

“Ok...as you wish miss.” Danny replied with a smile, entering the rink, getting on the ice with a disconcerting ease. “So? Convinced? I am still waiting for an answer to my question.”

“Convinced. and... No. I have never had the opportunity to do it before. So I would need a couple of lessons.” you answer.  

“Ok, first...give me your hand. Trust me, I will not let you go. Promise. I know what it's like to fall your ass first on ice and believe me, it's not pleasant at all.”

Hesitating as you step on to enter the rink, Danny gently taking your hand to bring you back to him. Well, he had to quickly catch up with you in his arms because you were slipping. If the beginning was quite complicated, because Danny had to prevent you from falling several times, after several minutes, you start to take your marks. Little by little Danny let you go and gave you more space. And once he feels you're ready, he let you go completely but stood by you just in case.

“You see! it's not that hard in the end! You're doing very well!” He said with a smile.

“I confirm, you're an excellent teacher! Thank you so much Jed!” you respond, kissing him as he kisses you back.  

Danny left you for a few moments with Melina and Mattew to skate a little on his side. The agility he had, allowed him to move perfectly on the ice. If he wanted to, he could become a skating champion, but he knows the ruthless world of the sport. All shots are allowed. And he cared a little too much about his legs to lose them in an unfortunate "accident". And then be a sportsman and a killer... don't really go together. Fame is a good thing, the problem is that when you are also a murderer, your private life... is no longer as private. Generally, there is always a clever little journalist who hangs around... And as if by chance always at the right time. At least as a journalist, Danny is quiet in his private life.

During these two hours of tranquillity, the whole small group had fun, laughing every time Mattew fell. And when he fell, Danny was always the first to go to him and pick him up. While you and Melina laughed and chatted on your side. Then the crowd began to arrive. It was time to leave because when it has too many people, it's almost impossible to skate without falling, even when we're as good as our dear assassin. So, you leave the rink, return the skates and get out of the building to get back in the car.

“So, this ice christening? it went well to what I see!” Said Melina cheerfully.  

“Speak for yourself! I didn't stop falling to the ground or catching up on the railing!” respond Mattew, a little grumpy.  

“ haaawn poor little Mattew! You'll ask Chris to give you a little massage.... If you know what I mean.”  

“... the worst part is that I know very well that it will end like this, if I ask him for a massage. If I provoke Chris once... he can quickly become wild.”

“You're not going to complain about it... it's better to be like that than not. At least he is more tactile than before. If I remember correctly, he didn't even dare hold your hand for fear of breaking it.” Replied Danny with a little smile.  

“It's true... I'll always remember, he was really too cute.” answer Mattew.  

Melina started the car and drove off towards Roseville. The return trip was more enjoyable. Danny felt a little more relaxed. But he didn't forget the other asshole. And he intends to make him regret his actions in a way... irreversible. A good old-time murder will bring back memories. Like when he slaughtered that bastard Doctor who let Carla die. He hadn't missed him that day... or rather that night. That's where his career in murder began. Because of an asshole.

But the past is the past as they say! It is better to move forward. Melina offered a fast food for lunch, all while landing at the park to enjoy the fresh air before the hot days that will arrive. The whole small group moved the rest of the day to the park, chatting and telling old family anecdotes. Except Danny, of course. He had made a cross on his past with his "parents", it was not to talk about it now. He was free of it now. As the last light of day disappeared to make way for the night sky, Melina took Danny and you back to your building.  

She greeted you both with a wink not to go crazy, to which Danny answered calmly but with a smile not to worry about it. Then both enter the building laughing when they see Mattew's reaction. As you both arrived at your apartment, a noise was heard from inside. After a brief exchange of gaze, Danny took the keys to your apartment from your hands and opened the door cautiously. Lighting the light of the living room, he did not notice anything strange, for the moment.

“We must have been dreaming... Or maybe it came from your home?” you said looking at Danny.

“No. I checked three times before I left. It's all closed. The noise comes from here.” responds Danny before hearing another noise from the kitchen.  

Danny walked quietly to the kitchen, taking something to defend himself. If there’s a thief and he's armed, he's going to spend a bad time too. Arriving in the room, he suddenly turned on the light and raised his arm ready to strike before stopping cleanly in front of the source of all the noise. And this thing emits a very different sound this time.... a meow to be more precise.

“I think we have a little thief in your kitchen.” he said, laying the object he was holding before taking the frightened kitten in his arms.

“Haaawn, poor little guy... How did you get home?” you answer looking at the kitten.  

“Hum... It's a girl. And given the room I would say she came through your window. And visibly she enjoys your cakes. You've got two that's gone.”

“Oh... I had left the window open to let them cool and to prevent the apartment from smelling like bananas... But hey the main thing is that you ate well. You don't look like you have a necklace... I think I'm going to keep you!” you replied caressing the kitten who began to purr.

“You're going to have to plan on feeding her and a basket to sleep in... as well as a litter box, a cat tree... I think there's a pet store in Zanesville that owns it all for a cheap. And then she's going to need a name." responds Danny giving you the kitten.

“I'll see all that tomorrow. With a rested head. In the meantime, I'm going to set up a little corner for you in front of my bed. That way you won't be alone. It's convenient to keep old plaids. They're going to be able to re-serve again.”  

“In that case, I'm going to let you take care of that kitten. I still have a lot of work to do. Maybe tomorrow we'll see each other? If the boss doesn't make us run in the direction.”

You nod before kissing Danny, who kisses you back. Then he left your apartment to go back to his, locking the door. He sighed; it feels good to be at home. Not that he didn't enjoy the day, but since he knew about this guy at the restaurant, he had only one desire: to find him and massacre him. He went to his office to pick up his things. He took the opportunity to look at his hunting board. You can count yourself happy, Hoggins, to have gained extra life time because of the incompetence of the Roseville police officers... For once, and even if it hurt him to admit it, he felt sorry for Inspector Wilhelm. It's not easy to stay calm when you're the only 'smart' person in the whole police station.

He took his bag, and walked out of the building without making any noise. He got in his van and hit the road to the restaurant where you were last night. He parked a little further so as not to be noticed. When that bastard quits his job, Danny will follow him quietly home. It will do as usual, observe, note, analyse. And he'll do it again and again. Until the day it's time for him to meet Ghostface. And that night...

The massacre will begin.

Let’s the countdown begin.  

***

(My little finger says to me that you are 52 people whose following me! From the deepest part of my potato heart, I wanna say thank you to all of you! I never imagine to get so far and please so many people! I hope you will continue to be as numerous or even more numerous!  I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)

[easyrevenge]

shinkami drabble

word count : 1.6k

ship: shinsou hitoshi / kaminari denki 

rated: t

summary: denki has a crush on shinsou who works across the street at the second-hand music shop.

(ive never written shinkami before & i’ve been having writers block so i wrote this based on true events for warm-up.)

Kaminari is pretty sure he might die. 

“You’re being so dramatic,” Mina tells him. And yeah, he is, but that hardly changes the fact that he’s starving. Not to death but it’s significant. He forgot to eat breakfast and wasn’t even on the schedule to work today. He’s just a good employee, and friend, or whatever. Denki thinks Mina could at least be a little more--”But, someone did leave their Café Luna bag behind about an hour ago. See what’s in it.”

Denki loves her. “Café Luna? That place is expensive!” And delicious, so he’s heard. The restaurant opened a few weeks ago down the block and since then the line has been wrapped around the corner. 

He hurries to the back of their shop and rummages through the mini-refrigerator that definitely should have been cleaned out at least three weeks ago. Past some questionable yogurt cups, he finds what he’s looking for.

Denki only spends a solid five seconds debating the morality of the situation--is it rude to eat someone’s untouched food? What if they come back for it? But it’s a short-lived consideration, especially once he sees what’s inside; a small clear container with what a fancy as fuck sandwich—“It’s been an hour, surely they would have come back by now…” he reasons. Most importantly, as well as the deciding factor, “Oh hell yes!” A huge, insanely thick double chocolate chip cookie. “Sorry not sorry, loser.” Who the hell could leave any of this behind?

The sandwich is obliterated within minutes. Then Denki, because he is a good friend and model employee, brings the cookie back out to the front and offers some to Mina. 

“You’re sweet, Denks,” she says, patting his shoulder. Then she laughs, “But it looks like you might cry if I say yes and you're forced to actually share.”

Denki really, really loves her. 

He’s half-way through the cookie, propped up on the counter and munching away while Mina does all the clean up tasks that he’s excused from today for coming in. This is their usual slow hour anyway, not a customer in sight. Easy money. 

“So, I forgot to tell you that your walking wet-dream came by earlier.” 

Denki almost chokes on his cookie. “What! When? What was he wearing?” 

Mina smiles as she wipes the counters down. “I was swamped so I didn’t get a good look. He was in and out pretty quick.”

Denki leans back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment to revel in a quick day dream. One where he’s smooth and clever, manages to get his number, then maybe a date, a blow job, a boyfriend, a decent, regularly scheduled lay. He’d take that in any order, really. 

Denki’s never actually talked to the guy but he does know his name is Shinsou thanks to a very tactful phone call by Mina. He works at the secondhand music store across the street and one morning while opening shop they made eye contact across the asphalt. Denki had been sweeping while the other was writing a music lesson schedule on a chalkboard menu. It was anticlimactic, lasting no more than three seconds, but Denki never stops thinking about it. 

Shinsou is intimidating in the way that most pretty people are. He looks mean, disinterested. It pulls Denki in unquestionably, especially because he always smiles (full teeth) whenever he spots Shinsou through the window and rarely gets anything back except the highly coveted lifted eyebrow. Denki’s favorite thing about him is his eyes, dark and liquidy.

Denki also cares a lot about fashion and Shinsou’s clothes are the brand of cool that is obviously effortless, all black. His messy purple hair is usually pushed back with one of those cheap, zigzag plastic hair combs that were popular in the 90s.

Shinsou is aggressively hot, it’s almost offensive. Denki isn’t sure if he has a league but Shinsou is out of everyone’s.

“I can’t believe he actually came in. What did he order?”

Mina shrugs, “He just bought bottled water but he did spend a minute staring at your freaky art.”

“Oh my god,” Denki flushes pink with excitement and disbelief. He doesn’t exactly call himself an artist but he does fuck around a lot in his small studio and paint weird, neon colored, warped looking Pokémon-monster hybrids. Mina let’s him display them around her fruit shop because she’s a good friend. 

A customer comes in and Denki continues to lounge on the counter, still daydreaming of purple hues and picking at the cookie while Mina makes a smoothie that has far too many vegetables. 

“Hey Denks,” Mina says after the customer has left with their inevitable bowel movement in a cup. She sounds weird. He looks over and she’s smiling like the Cheshire Cat. He knows he’s fucked. “We’re best friends and I’m your boss, so you’re obligated to forgive me.”

Denki’s heart is squeezing tight and he stares wide eyed. “What did you do?”

Mina turns to look out through the front windows where Shinsou is currently looking left, then right, before doing a half-jog across the street. She hurriedly looks back at Denki, “I forgot to tell you the Café Luna bag was Shinsou’s and now it looks like he’s coming back for it and I’m going to go on my break now, bye.” She says the last part in one breath while the door opens and the little bell on top rings. 

Shinsou walks in and all the air is pulled from Denki’s lungs.

Denki doesn’t have time to think, just react. He practically throws himself off the counter and—again, not thinking because who has time for that when someone that good-looking is walking your way—does the only thing he can think of to dispose of the evidence. 

He shoves the rest of the cookie into his mouth. It’s a big fucking cookie, even with only half of it left. 

He never should have come into work today. 

The chime of the door tinkers again when it closes and Denki knows he has about 3.5 seconds before Shinsou reaches the front counter. He chews vigorously, practically suffocating on cookie crumbs and chocolate chips, but it’s all just turned to paste in his mouth and there’s no hope. 

Then, he starts to choke. 

“Should I call emergency services or just let you die.” It hardly sounds like a question and if it is, Shinsou is asking himself.

Denki sputters, standing up from his half-crouch in an attempt to hold on to an ounce of his dignity. But it’s all lost when they make eye contact and Denki knows there’s nothing he can do, so he just holds up a finger to say hold on before spinning around and grabbing the small trash bin under the sink. 

He spits the cookie mush into the bin, eyes watering while he coughs the dust out of his lungs, and prays that death comes swiftly in the next few seconds. 

Denki hates Mina. So, so much. 

Catching his breath, Denki leans forward over the sink and runs the water. He wonders if he should fill it up and drown himself but opts for rinsing his face instead. The eyes boring holes into his back are unrelenting and vicious. He turns around and regrets being born. 

Shinsou is way too goddamn pretty. His eyes drink Denki in, full of judgement and unabashed intensity before blinking back into nonchalance. “He lives.”

Denki can’t help it, he laughs. It’s loud and a bit wet because he hasn’t wiped off his face. What a mess. “Unfortunately.”

Shinsou doesn’t allow for any awkward silences though, just moves the conversation forward with ease. Denki barely has time to feel embarrassed but he knows he’s blushing deeper with every millisecond that ticks by. 

“I left my lunch here earlier, I think. A bag from Café Luna.” 

Denki considers lying because surely that would be the easiest route. He attempts to wipe his face off with the inner elbow of his sweater, nervous. “Oh—uh, I don’t…”

Shinsou holds up a long, slender finger.  Denki wonders what instruments he plays. Maybe he should sign up for one of his lessons, give himself a second-chance to make a good impression. Erase this one from existence. 

He shakes his head, explaining, “You have chocolate smeared on your chin.” An obvious accusation. Denki is so fucked. 

He sighs. “The cookie looked way too good, dude.” It feels good to confess, at least. “I’m sorry,” Denki apologizes, eyes downcast as he pulls at the hem of his sweater. 

“Are you,” Shinsou replies and Denki wants to run out the door but then something happens. Shinsou laughs. It’s a quiet sound, breathy and warm and deep. Denki looks up and smiles brightly because wow, that sounds like music. “I don’t think you are.”

Denki catches something like a smile on the corner of Shinsou’s mouth and it gives him some of his confidence back. Just enough. “Yeaaaah,” he breathes, grinning sheepishly. “It was really tasty so maybe not that sorry.”

“Sorry you got caught.”

“Definitely.”

“A true criminal.” Shinsou nods, something like approval. Then he pulls out his phone to check the time. Denki is already disappointed this interaction is ever going to end, despite his embarrassment. 

“I’ll have the sandwich back at least, I only have ten minutes left of my lunch break. I’m starving.”

No, yeah, Denki is going to fucking murder Mina. He’ll be an actual criminal. 

Denki knows his silence is telling but there’s no cool way to talk himself out of this. Instead he puts on his best pouty smile and apologetic eyes. Shinsou looks so unimpressed until he doesn’t, just annoyed.

He clicks his tongue, sucking air through his teeth like a disappointed parent. “I’m off in three hours.”

Denki pulls a face.  “Oh-kay.” 

Shinsou looks like he wants to roll his eyes. Denki feels hot all over, degraded even though he hasn’t been called any names or chastised. 

The silence makes Denki itchy so he breaks it with a fountain of apologies and offers to pay him back. “Do you have Venmo? Just charge me the cost! My username is 69Pika—”

“Please, stop.”

“Okay.”

Shinsou knocks his knuckles on the counter, looking him over once more before taking a few steps back. Another customer comes in and the bell tinkers twice, open, then close. 

They watch each other for a moment.

“If you’re off in time, you’re buying dinner after my shift. I’ll meet you outside the shop.” Then Shinsou turns and leaves and Denki just smiles because what the fuck else was he supposed to do. 

God, he loves Mina. 

[bluebaby123]

Shadows

Thank you to the submission that inspired this... I was asked to do Shika using shadows during sexy times! I’m sorry I haven't been as timely with requests and things but I do hope you like it my baby xx

Let me preface this by saying that I did some research on the necessity of hand signs for a jutsu and some ninja have enough chakra control to use less hand signs that are needed for a jutsu, depending on how good their chakra control is. I wanted to keep to the plot... to a point?? So allow for just a little suspension of disbelief with this *teehee*

WARNINGS: choking, rigging?(basically), nasty talk, oral (F!recieving)

You were standing in the woods about a days travel outside of the Hidden Leaf Village, gripping the stolen scroll. Your breath was ragged and hot, steaming up the inside of the cat mask you wore. You’d done it, successfully taken the last of the items for the secret jutsu your own smaller village had been after. This was the final piece that was needed for them to complete their plans. You’d run into leaf ninja every time you’d snuck in, however you’d yet to be caught. You smiled to yourself, but you were feeling the pride of your victory far too soon. The darkness that had swallowed the earth for the night concealed the shadows of your foe, you didn't notice them snaking up your legs and arms, holding them in place until it was much too late.

 “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” said the voice behind you. You tried to turn but you were instantly frozen. You knew his voice, as well as his jutsu, after all you had fought him before. The night of the New Moon gave his shadows extra strength, he had the advantage now that you were caught. You heard him approaching before you felt the cool blade of the kunai against your throat. “So... the kitten returns,” he said, holding you flush against his back. “You caught me this time...” you giggled softly, “I guess you took my advice and practiced a little harder.” 

His hand slipped into your pocket and your breath caught in your throat. His fingertips grazed against the skin of your bare hip. “I’ll be taking this back now,” he announced as he swiped the scroll from you. He pressed the biade against your neck before adding, “give me one good reason to let you live... because you, little neko, are awfully troublesome.” You leaned your head back against him and meowed. You'd seen him almost every time you’d infiltrated the leaf. He was either catching your subordinates or failing to get a hold of you, although this time he had succeeded and then some. He laughed in amusement. “That is not a reason, and if you want to live to see another day, you’re gonna have to try harder.” He kept the knife where it was but his grip loosened slightly. “How about... you let me go, and I’ll let you rub my tummy,” you purred. You tried your best to press against him seductively but his shadows held you in place. “Not a chance, kitten, though I can’t deny I’d like rubbing you.” His brazen words caused your desire to stir in your core.

Your game of cat and mouse with the shadow jutsu wielder had gone on for a while now and your jutsu was no mystery anymore, which is why he had tailed you in silence. There was only one more trick you had up your sleeve and you weren’t even sure it would work.“Well, just be careful not to rub me the wrong way... Shikamaru.” His grip on the knife and his shadows loosened at the mention of his name. It was just enough to move and you made the hand sign. A bright light expelled from your body and knocked Shikamaru backwards. You climbed on top of him, successfully pinning his hands with your own, and his legs with your knees. There was still a slight glow to your aura, an aftershock of your powers. Light poured through the eye holes in your mask, giving off an eerie illusion. He looked up at you with a smirk. Most people were terrified by your light manipulation jutsu but he seemed more annoyed than anything. “Same old tricks I see, huh kitten?” he sighed. Your hold on to his wrist loosened slightly as you leaned closer to his face, “but you still fell for it didn’t yo-” With that he flipped you on your back and was now positioned over you. He laid between your legs, his hips pressing into yours. The suddenness of his movement and your current compromising position had your breath falling out in quick pants. Shikamaru was attractive, especially in the dim lighting of your chakra’s glow. His jaw was chiseled, he was lean but with an unsuspecting strength, however his most attractive quality was his wit and that smug smile that made you go weak in the knees. You wanted to keen at how responsive he was, the slightest adjustment to your grip gave him the opening he needed. You wriggled to try and free yourself when you felt something poking you... Was it the scroll in his pocket or something else? If it wasn’t the scroll it was just as big, and you bit your lip in arousal.

“So tell me, how do you know my name?” he asked, bringing your focus back to his face. “Didn’t your mama teach you that it’s impolite to hold down a woman like this?” He rolled his eyes, but his smile told you that he wasn’t nearly as annoyed as he wanted to seem, in fact, he was enjoying this back and forth... perhaps a little too much. “I don’t think it’s impolite if the woman in question is a thief,” he said as he removed your mask. You tried to protest, the mask was an important part of your village’s espionage and if he saw your face then the game would be over, and your village would likely dispose of you... if Shikamaru didn’t first. But with the way he was looking at you now, he’d sooner devour you instead of kill you. 

A wide grin broke onto his face, “pretty... for a cat burglar,” he remarked. You rolled your eyes as he chuckled at his own joke. He released your wrists and made his hand sign before you could make yours, his shadows stitching you to the ground. He held his hands in the sign but moved them above your head and laid his chin on your chest. He was looking up at you with a glint of victory in his eye. “So, how do you know my name?” he asked amused as you struggled against his shadows. Struggling was no use and without the freedom of your hands you couldn’t release your light jutsu. You had a sneaking suspicion that whatever was poking you wasn’t the scroll and it was driving you crazy. You pressed your hips up and rolled them against him. His eyes grew wide and his lips parted slightly, a small whine of need falling from  his lips. “I’ll tell you if you undo your jutsu,” you bargained sweetly. You continued to roll your hips against him, enjoying the friction as well as the look on his face. Shikamaru pressed his hips down and into yours, reciprocating your actions. A small sighed escaped your lips and he laughed, “not a chance neko-chan.” He removed his hands from where they were above your head but kept the hand sign in tact. He sat up on his knees and stared down at you and sighed. “You’re so troublesome, you know that?” You smirked up from your pinned position. “Listen, you got the scroll back, can’t we just call this one a truce? Leave it until next time?” He scoffed, “next time?” His laughter was cruel as his eyes roamed over your body, “my instructions were to extract all the information from you that I would need to uncover all the stolen items... by any means necessary.” He was testing you, trying to gauge your resolve. But your eyes were clear and unafraid and there was almost a sorry expression behind his smug exterior. He truly didn’t want to hurt you. “You know,” he continued, “the Leaf might spare you as long as you help retrieve what you’ve stolen.” You blinked up at him... he had you pinned, why was he being so nice? You looked away from him, there was no way you could possibly, even if you wanted to. “My own village would kill me for betraying them... and the Leaf couldn’t trust me after stealing such precious ninja tools from them.” Shikamaru chuckled and looked down tenderly at you. “You’d be surprised, we’re a pretty forgiving village.” The way he was looking at you now was almost romantic, but you remained silent. Even if he was being serious, it could start a war. 

“I guess I can try and make you talk...” He lowered himself to where his head was resting on your thigh. He sunk his teeth in and you just barely held back a whine. Your body arched into his touch without a second thought. “Awww, so needy, aren't you?” He pushed up your shirt, using his clasped hands, then bit down on your exposed hip. This time you couldn’t hold it in and you whined. He growled before licking across your skin and biting down on the other hip. You watched as he nipped and kissed his way back down to the button of your pants. He pulled at the cloth of your pants with his teeth, successfully undoing the button. “Wh-what are you doing?” you asked him. You tried to sit up to get a better view of what he was doing but his shadows held you in place. You could feel your slick pooling in your underwear in anticipation of his touch. “Do you want me to stop?” You rolled your eyes at him and he pulled down the zipper. “I thought you were interrogating me!” He was busy pulling your pants down, his mouth full of your jeans. You lifted your hips and he somehow maneuvered your pants to resting just above your knees. “I am interrogating you,” he shot back. His eyes were dark with lust, “unless you want me to stop... is that what you want?” You shook your head no and he laid between your thighs. He was eye level with your now ruined panties, the slick bleeding through them. Your scent was becoming intoxicating and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold back from delving his tongue beneath the fabric to taste you. “Use your words,” he growled. Your breathing was becoming rapid as you could feel yourself clenching around nothing. “No, I don’t want you to stop, I wanna see how you think this is going to coax any sort of information out of- ohmygod.” 

The first touch of his tongue to your clothed core was slow, pressured, as he dragged it over the growing wet patch and up to your clit. He paused, slightly before doing it again. He did it a few more times, leaving long enough gaps in between his lapping for you to start to whimper for his touch. “Name me all the items you’ve stolen, and I’ll take off these panties and do it again,” he tilted his head to the side mockingly, “now, that’s easy, isn’t it?” It was easy enough, he already knew what you had stolen... this was just a gateway question. But he was clever, if you answered this you, firstly, got rewarded for doing so, which would, secondly, make you more inclined to comply with future questions. Something inside of you told you not to answer at all, but you so badly wanted to feel his tongue, the skin against skin. 

“I took a rare stone that contains chakra, a book about necromancy, and the sealing jutsu scroll that you took back.” He kissed the flesh just before your hip where your thighs meet your abdomen. One kiss on either side before he asked, “is there anything you’re forgetting?” He was hovering over your clit, and you could feel his breath fanning over your needy core. “Keys... two keys,” the words fell from your mouth before you could stop them. Shikamaru hadn’t know about the keys, that must be how it was so easy for you to get in undetected. He placed a firm, lingering kiss over your clit. “That’s a good little kitty cat,” he praised.  He unclasped his hands and reached for your underwear. You were confused... he broke the jutsu? But as you attempted to pull your hands from above your head you could still feel them there, holding you in place. Was Shikamaru strong enough to hold his shadows with just his chakra alone? He pulled your pants and your underwear down. They rested in a clump just above your ankles. He moved his hands up and down your body, lifting your shirt and bra to expose your breasts. “It doesn’t last long without the hand sign,” he offered, reading your mind, “but it’s long enough for me to get a good look at you.” He formed the sign again, and leaned down to take your nipple in his mouth first. He tugged at it with his teeth before moving to the next one. He kissed, licked, and nipped his way back  down to your now exposed core. “Now, about that reward...” he said before licking his tongue along your slit. The wet, hot, drag of his tongue forced a small mewl from your mouth. You so badly wanted your hands in his hair, massaging his scalp as he worked you to a climax... but your hands were still restrained and Shikamaru was giving slow, teasing movements. He licked, long stripes tasting every drop of your juices that touched his tongue. He hummed lazily as he continued, the vibrations sending pleasurable jolts through your body. It wasn’t long before you were whining needy for more again.

“You’re so needy,” he sighed, “and you taste so good.” He lapped at you once more drawing more soft sounds of want from your throat. “Alright neko-chan, tell me what your village wants with these things and I’ll put my tongue inside that greedy little hole...” You groaned at his words, your mind nearing towards break. You were slowly falling under the spell, your desire stronger than your fear. But with the ounce of logic you had left you managed to tell him, “I can’t, if I tell you, they’ll kill me...” “I won’t let them do that to you neko-chan.” That stupid taunting nickname... “Like hell you will,” you retorted. He nodded once and then moved to get up, getting as far as sitting on his knees before you asked, “where are you going?” Shikamaru looked down at you, “you see, neko, I have no business with you unless you tell me what I want to know and if you’re not going to well...” The need in your core was now a fully build fire. No man or woman had ever given you head this good before, and he’d hardly done a thing. “They want to create a jutsu with that stone, that draws a soul out of the body and traps it... but big enough so that it would act like a silent bomb.” Even saying it you were wracked with guilt.

Your face fell and it did not go unseen by Shikamaru. He too was shocked at the cruelty of such a jutsu but he found solace in your discomfort of the subject as well. He was starting to wonder how much you had to do with this plan or if you were just a pawn for your village to use. “Thank you for telling me,” he said and this time sincerely. He resumed his previous position between your thighs. “You’re such a good little kitten.” He kissed your clit first, before running his tongue down your slit and circling your opening. You were waiting for him to fill you but he continued to tease, it was driving you crazy. “Please, I told you didn’t I?” He bit your thigh again, lightly, and suckled the skin, leaving a dark splotch in his wake. “You did, but you didn’t right away... So if you want my tongue inside of your precious little pussy, you’re gonna tell me something else...” You awaited his question, you weren’t going to hesitate this time. He knew this much already, what difference would answering one more question make. “Which village is yours, neko-chan?”  

Any question except that one... “You wear that cute little kitty mask instead of a headband, so c’mon tell me.” You took a deep breath, desperate to feel his mouth on you again. Perhaps if you told him now he would reward you more. “I work for the Hidden Snow.” He kissed your hips before praising you once again,  “such a good little cat.” He slowly pressed his tongue inside of you. You gasped as he began to stroke along your walls. He was searching for that one spot, listening to every moan, whine, and keen, that passed your lips. With a single high pitched cry, he knew he’d found the spot he was looking for. Shikamaru began to tongue fuck you, every time pressing the tip of the muscle into your spot. You could feel the heat building, feel your mind breaking, as you were consumed with your desire for Shikamaru. His tongue perfectly working inside you, pushing you towards your release. His shadow restraints at your ankles held your legs spread and kept your thighs from clamping around his head. He released the hand sign for a moment to hold onto your hips and press himself further into your dripping cunt. The lewd sounds of his tongue lapping against your insides filled the air. 

And just as suddenly as all the times before, he pulled away. You groaned in annoyance, pulling and kicking at your restraints. “So, who are you to your village?” he asked, sitting up and wiping your juices from his mouth. Your breath was ragged now and it took you a moment to even come up with the correct words. “I-I was raised by the organization of our village , I am a weapon for them, I have a rare kakei genkai, called light manipulation.” This time he captured your lips in a kiss. You could taste yourself as you caressed his tongue with your own. “Such a good kitty cat, hmm?” he said as he sat back on his knees. You realized at that moment that he wasn’t doing the hand sign. “See I need at least one of my hands for this reward, but I can’t let you go...” He closed his fist and you felt a slight pressure around your neck as two of his fingers slipped inside of you. “Ohhh fuck... Shikamaru.” You keened as they curled perfectly into the spot he had found earlier with his tongue. 

His stroked were painfully slow, pressing hard up into your G spot. “Oh, one more question, how do you know my name?” Your mind was numb... words were becoming more and more difficult to put together. Especially since the shadow around your throat was creating and intoxicating pressure. His fingers sped up, pressing hard and fast into your sopping pussy, then slowed once more. “If you tell me, I won’t slow down again and I’ll squeeze harder, since every time I do your cute little pussy clamps down on my fingers even harder,” he bribed. “One of your comrades said it... when she was scolding you, the girl with the long hair...” He kissed your cheek before praising you once more. “You remembered my name all these months and yet I don’t know yours, neko-chan.” He began to scissor his fingers inside you. “Tell me your name, please,” he asked. You choked out your name and he smiled, “beautiful.” He began to pump his fingers inside you, faster and harder than before. His shadow tightened around your throat and you were seeing stars. 

The orgasm that he had edged into your body from the beginning of the interrogation was beginning to surface. It was the strongest you had ever felt before. Every time you thought you would topple over the edge, it just continued to build. You felt as if you were climbing higher and higher with every thrust of his fingers. “Cum for me, y/n.” It was simply hearing your name that finally pushed you over the edge. You came hard, your vision whiting out completely as you cried out. The shadow wrapped around your neck was the only thing holding your writhing body in place. “So fucking beautiful with your eyes rolled back in your head like that, I want to see you do it again,” he said, his fingers never slowing. 

Shikamaru removed the shadow jutsu and used that hand instead to rub at your clit. The overstimulation was too much and your back arched off of the ground. “Cum for me again, you deserve it, you deserve a reward for being so compliant.” You could feel a strange pressure building up inside of you. He slipped a third finger inside of you and continued his rapid pace. Within a few more seconds, a clear liquid poured from your body, covering your thighs, as well as his hand and lap. “Fuuckk,” he groaned as his assault on your clit helped spray the liquid further. 

You were panting, your body was spent, lying on the ground. You watched as he licked some of the squirt from his hand. He hummed in delight at the taste. The next thing he did surprised you. He laid down next to you and pulled you into him. He placed your head onto his chest and brushed his fingers up and down your back. They were still slightly wet but you didn’t mind. You were comforted, lying in the arms of the man who was meant to be your enemy. A long silence fell between the two of you. The only sounds were the occasional wind through the trees and the crickets and cicadas melody. 

“I’m going to protect you,” he finally said. “You deserve more than to be just a pawn for an awful plan.” He grabbed a hold of your face and brushed his thumb against your cheek. You weren’t sure if it was the come down of your orgasm or if it was that the person you were supposed to hate, to kill, was the only one who saw you as having more worth than anyone else, but tears began to fall from your eyes. “Hey, it’s all going to be okay, I have a plan...” he said. You sniffed and moved to look at him with big watery eyes. “What is it?” you asked. He smiled back down at you, “let’s talk about that in a while, just  rest for now.” You nodded slowly against his shirt. You calmed easily with his stroking up and down your back. “Shikamaru?” you asked. “Yes, Y/n?” “Would you tell me a story? Something about you?” He chuckled as he pulled you in closer to him. “You want to hear how I met my best friend? His name is Choji... well, it all started when we went to Ninja Academy together and...” 

[falseroar]

Dog Days Part 15: Going for a Walk

((Y/N is talked into going on a walk that does not end well. A second attempt, however, allows them to meet some new faces--and discover one they didn’t expect to see again.

Warnings: It wasn’t my original intention, but Y/N being stuck in wolf form could come across as body dysphoria, especially in some sections here. This section also has the former DA dealing with anxiety and negative thoughts.

Here are links to the previous part and to the whole series, if you need them.))

Jameson and Jackie walked into the house to find Chase seated in one of the living room chairs, slumped forward only slightly so that he was on eye level with the wolf sitting a few feet away from him. He didn’t look away as they walked in, and aside from a twitch of your ears, your silver-clouded eyes did not break their stare with Chase.

“What happened to taking a walk?” Jackie asked, setting down the folded puppet theater stage behind the couch for now.

“Still working out the details,” Chase answered. “I could get one of those retractable leashes that go out, like, 15 or 20 feet.”

You narrowed your eyes, considering the image, before shaking your head. Last thing you wanted was to accidentally get tangled up with a mailbox or something.

“What if you wore the leash, but just let it drag behind you until someone else comes along?”

You tilted your head, but Jackie shot that idea down quickly, saying, “Nope. If Y/N goes out, I want at least one of you sticking close to them. Last thing I want to do is spend my night visiting every dog pound in the city looking for a disguised werewolf.”

Chase finally broke his staring contest with you to hold up the enchanted dog collar for Jackie to see the tag hanging on it. “Marvin made a tag with his number on it, just in case.”

Jameson stepped closer to get a look and frowned. “It doesn’t have their name on it.”

Good, you thought to yourself. You might have been tempted to tear it apart yourself then.

“Yeah, he didn’t think that was a good idea,” Chase said with a shrug as he flipped the tag over himself. “Not sure why he put a cat engraving on there, though. Must’ve gotten bored or something.”

Your personal thoughts on that were soon forgotten when you caught a whiff of Jameson, or at least one particular scent hanging around him. It was faint, mixed in with all of the other scents picked up walking around the city and performing his show, but for a brief second you caught an almost familiar, hazy mix of stale tobacco and coffee tinged with the musty scent of leather and gunpowder. A sharp, wistful feeling hit you but then the already faint scent was gone, lost among the sharper, fresher smells.

You paced around the room, your sudden restlessness unnoticed by the others who were still talking about whether the cat engraving was another spell or just Marvin trying to stay on brand, until you came to a stop in front of Chase and sighed before nudging his hand.

You’d take the collar, even the leash, if it meant some fresh air and a change of scenery. Anything to take your mind off of the memories trying to reemerge.

Chase and Jameson weren’t about to question it, and soon they walked out of the house with you looking once again like a too large Irish wolfhound. It was strange, looking down and seeing a different body than what you felt or remembered, but then you had plenty of practice getting used to having the wrong body at least once a month even before this. As long as you didn’t look at your paws too much, it was easy to forget, and the visual reminder that you didn’t look like a wolf was nice every time the three of you passed one of the neighbors out in their yards or on the sidewalk.

It was easy to forget about the leash too, until you felt the stretch of nylon held loose in Chase’s hand brush against a shoulder blade or slide across your back, like when you moved to put the two of them in between you and another pedestrian going the other way.

Easy to forget, but as soon as you remembered it was all you could focus on: the leash, the weight of the collar around your neck, the other people, the sudden but unshakeable sense that they could see you, that they knew, that at some unexpected second the spell would break and the screaming would start.

You didn’t even realize you had started shaking until Chase and Jameson stopped at the corner, until Jameson dropped to a crouch in front of you to make sure you could see his hands sign your name.

You took a deep breath, or tried to, and then another, until you were lying on the sidewalk, paws over your eyes and ears in a futile attempt to block out the suddenly too bright sunlight washing out the monochrome world around you, the voices of strangers and the constant noise of cars driving by and leaf blowers roaring and it was all too much.

You don’t know how long it took, of Chase and Jameson sitting there with you, Chase reassuring the passing neighbors that you were fine while Jameson stroked your back and signed his own reassurances that you couldn’t focus long enough to see, before you were finally ready to stand up and walk with them back to the house, head and tail down in shame. You just knew that the sun was setting, and the three of you had barely made it to the end of the block.

They tried to tell you that it was okay, Chase saying he shouldn’t have pushed you to go out until you were ready, Jameson saying something about little steps while Jackie and Marvin tried not to sound too happy about the idea of walks being shelved for now. When the doctor emerged from his room for the night, you chose to go into your own room while the others tried to be tactful about how to explain what happened.

Nothing they said could help the embarrassment and then anger you felt at yourself, for not being able to handle something that should have been so simple. Right? It was just a walk, what was wrong with you?

You paced around the room, pausing at the neatly folded pile of clothes left at the foot of the bed you hadn’t slept in since the full moon. Something one of the others, Jameson by the smell of it, had left there without a word, in case you need them.

In case you changed back.

What was wrong with you?

You left your room, skirting around the others on your way to the backdoor. Your teeth found the short length of rope hanging from the sliding door, but when you turned to close it from the other side a hand on the frame kept it from sliding. You looked up to see Marvin’s cat mask, the shape a white, fuzzy but still distinctive blur in front of a tangle of dark hair, the eyeholes two black pinpricks through which you couldn’t make out his eyes.

“…We’ll be in here in case you need us, okay?” Marvin said, and you looked away before nodding. Right now, you just needed some time to yourself, and the others seemed to respect that.

Even as the shadows in the yard lengthened and night came on, you just heard the door slide open once, Jackie’s voice letting you know there was food ready when you wanted it, until Jameson came out to let you know he was going to sleep but his door would be open if you wanted in. He knelt next to you in the grass, just as unbothered by trying to keep his dress pants clean as he had been before on the sidewalk, and brushed the top of your head once with his hand before going back inside.

You were okay out here. You could still hear the sounds of the neighborhood coming over the fence, the steady hum of cars passing by and distant voices. Was it really that different than going for a walk out there?

Than being paraded along on a leash, playing the role of a dog because that’s all you seemed to do these days.

What was wrong with you?

You paced around the yard, each go around making it feel smaller and more cramped than before, until you knew every single divot in the grass, every leaf and branch and clump of stubborn weeds, until you felt ready to scream.

When you finally pulled open the sliding door and slunk inside, it was to a mostly dark house. Someone had left a light on for you, and there was a plate full of cold food waiting on the kitchen floor that made your stomach twist at the smell of it. You padded your way down the hall and found Marvin, Chase, and Jameson’s rooms all dark and silent, their doors cracked open in case you were ready to join any one of them in sleep. Jackie, it seemed, had gone out for the night, and the doctor was long gone.

But you weren’t ready to sleep. You weren’t sure what you wanted to do, what you were looking for as you walked around the house until you stopped at Jameson’s boxes of props, left behind the couch and apparently forgotten after the walk. You sniffed, taking in the scent of different fabrics and Jameson’s familiar smell, before you caught it again. Just a flash of that odd but too familiar blend of scents that left an ache in your chest that you didn’t want to think about.

You backed away and bumped into a side table, where you heard the clink of metal against wood. The tag of the collar scraping against the table where Chase had left it earlier.

You didn’t remember making the decision, just knowing it was a bad idea even as you tried to slide the collar off the table and knocked it to the floor, even as you pushed it around with your nose until you finally found the edge, until you finally slipped the loose fit up and over your muzzle, eyes, and ears, until it came to rest around your neck.

You shook your head, the tag jingling, but when you looked down it was to see the body of a wolfhound again. You could take the collar off right now, and leave it at that.

But you didn’t. Your paws couldn’t work the front door, not without causing enough noise sure to wake one of the others, but you could go back out through the back door and slide it shut behind you. At the side of the house, you looked up at the gate separating you from the front yard, the top of it nearly blending in with the night sky.

You could probably jump that.

Another walk around the yard, another chance to build up some courage or talk yourself out of it, but as you approached the gate again your steps changed, moving from pacing to running to a full sprint, until you launched yourself up, up—

And felt your chest hit the top of the gate as you completely misjudged the height of it, the wind leaving your lungs as you stopped and made a less than graceful roll over the fence and onto the ground on the other side. The blow hadn’t even scraped the skin, but you had to lay there for a second and let your pride recover. At least no one seemed to have heard or seen that, and when any noise failed to come from inside the house you eventually got back up and shook yourself again, the jingle of the collar letting you know it was still there.

Outside once again, but it was an entirely different experience now as you walked through the yard and stopped at the edge of the road. It was so quiet now, the nearby houses still and dark, the sound of cars a distant hum with pockets of silence in between. Where before the sunlight had washed out your vision, turning everything into nearly unidentifiable shades of white, the streetlights now cast just enough light to give an edge to the shadows, to make it easier to ignore the gaps in your vision and make the lack of color seem more at home.

Without the noise and the voices and the fear of being watched, you could take your time, rely on your nose and hearing just as much if not more than your eyes without being distracted.

Almost like practice.

You took a deep breath and caught the doctor’s scent, still lingering in the air from when he left earlier. There, something to follow, a goal to work toward. The doctor’s clinic wasn’t that far from here, and a walk there and back seemed more than doable. After all, he did it every day with no trouble at all. Just a short walk, on your own, to prove you could do this. You could do this, and you could turn around at any moment without anyone to judge.

It was a slow walk, your senses on high alert for any noise or sign of anyone else as you followed the doctor’s trail, but aside from surprising a raccoon digging in the trash and a bout of internal cursing directed at whoever had dropped a still warm cigarette on the ground that briefly lit up your sinuses like the Fourth of July, it was also a quiet walk.

You were almost surprised, when you reached the end of the trail and found the light coming through the windows of the still open clinic. You paused near the door, snout scrunched up as you caught a whiff of the same smell that had been on the doctor’s shoes earlier—had someone spilled something here? It was a faint, almost medical smell, but for some reason it reminded you more of Marvin’s room and his work than the doctor.

You didn’t have long to consider it, as a pair of headlights rounded the corner, filling the street and in your eyes washing everything white, and sent you darting into the nearest alley. You waited, heart pounding, and when you heard the car pull to a stop across the street you told yourself you were only backing away because it must be one of the doctor’s patients, that you couldn’t risk them spotting you and telling Henrik about the giant dog they saw outside. Reason enough to get out of there, turning and running down the alley until you were on the next street over, where you were realizing too late that there wasn’t a clear way to double back around.

In his car, Abe sank back into his seat with a groan and rubbed his eyes. For a second there, he thought he’d seen something move out of the corner of his eye, a dark shape near the doctor’s office. Too many hours driving around, trying to narrow down the right house, too much looking over his shoulder in case he was being followed again. He needed a new plan, a different angle on this problem.

While the hunter tried to figure out what he was missing, you continued walking, emboldened by making it this far on your own and curious about how much the city had changed while you were gone. Maybe it was the darkness, your messed up vision and memories playing tricks on you, but some of these roads seemed so familiar, the curve and bend of the streets like some you had walked up and down so many times before except the buildings on either side were all wrong. Every now and then you found one that looked slightly familiar, but just like the street signs hanging overhead, no matter how hard you stopped and stared, you couldn’t quite make out the letters on their darkened signs. The rest were a mystery, leaving you with a vague sense of things being slightly off as you wandered from one street to the next in search of any kind of solidly familiar landmark.

The lights of a large hotel drew you near, one you thought you recognized except that it seemed taller now, the front of it missing the statues you thought you knew. Then again, you thought as you squinted upwards at the white walls, maybe they were there and you just couldn’t see them.

Someone was coming, multiple someones.

You could hear footsteps on your left and on your right, and after a moment of panic you backed into the street, trying to convince your already racing heart not to panic.

Both sets of footsteps were slow, one measured and accompanied by the clack of wood hitting the pavement, the other more erratic, occasionally speeding up only to stumble and slow again.

The stumbling footsteps were the first to reach the halo of light around the hotel’s entrance, but the heavy scent of alcohol surrounding the man beat him there. Clearly someone who had spent a little too long at the bar, he swayed on his feet, muttering under his breath about strays when he caught sight of you but otherwise keeping his distance.

Keeping his distance from you, at least. At the foot of the stairs to the hotel’s entrance, the drunk man’s path crossed with the man coming from the other direction, who was leaning hard on a wooden staff nearly as tall as he was. Rather than wait for the slower man to pass out of the way, the drunk man shouldered into him, hard enough to knock the other man off of his feet.

Said man hissed when he hit the ground, the sound so full of pain that without thinking you moved to check and make sure that he was okay. Granted, you realized a little too late, having a huge dog looming over someone probably wouldn’t be helpful, especially when you saw that the man on the ground’s eyes were wrapped with stained bandages.

But, maybe hearing you or feeling your presence, he reached up and gently touched the side of your head before patting your neck.

“The Host—”

“Watch where you’re going, you useless bum!” Despite knocking him down, apparently the drunk man thought he had every right to be angry. “And keep your mutt on a leash before I call the pound on it!”

You heard the spit hit the ground near your front paw more than saw it, and that’s when you felt the blind man’s hand on the back of your neck tense, as though ready to hold you back. Or, perhaps, to keep you from running when he took a deep breath and began to sing.

It was a soft melody, one you didn’t know but somehow familiar to you, like you’d heard and forgotten it long ago. It was beautiful, nostalgic, enchanting—and so very, very wrong.

The drunk man stopped on the hotel steps, his entire posture changing so entirely that it was like someone else turning and walking back toward you, and toward the man who you now realized smelled of blood and saltwater and who sang with so many voices layered and mixed in to each other, like a choir pouring out of one mouth whose song both made you want it to never stop and want to get away from here as far and as fast as possible.

The drunk man’s face was in shadow with the light of the hotel behind him, so you could see nothing of his expression as he returned and helped the blind man up to his feet. The blind man took the driftwood staff when the drunk man silently offered it to him but didn’t stop singing, and didn’t let go of the grip his other hand had on your neck, on your collar.

For a second, you felt your entire body tense. You hadn’t sensed something like this since the time you stared down another werewolf, a murderer who wanted nothing more than to tear you open—it was the presence of another predator, one carefully weighing his options.

Before his song shifted, becoming almost airy as the drunk man took out his wallet and with shaking hands pressed several bills into the other man’s chest before turning and walking back up the stairs. The song gradually faded as the door closed behind him, before the blind man sighed and relaxed his grip on your collar.

“Petty, but the Host feels a little better now,” the blind man said out loud. You could still hear it, the other voices lurking underneath his “main” one, although they were quieter now. His hand pressed down slightly harder on your back, as though feeling your heart pounding, your unsteady breaths, and he chuckled. “He would have hardly been an appetizing meal for the Host. Who, for the record, also has no interest in werewolf meat. Too chewy.”

You pulled away from him, hackles up as you backed away, a low rumble in your chest that you hoped would be threatening enough to warn him away.

The Host, if that’s what he was calling himself, just tilted his head and raised his hand. You saw the light reflect off of something in his hand, and the realization sank in that you could no longer feel the weight of your collar on your neck.

“There is the smell of magic on this,” he said, shaking the collar just enough to get a noise from the hanging tag. “But not enough to hide the smell of wolf. The Host…apologizes, if his comment seemed out of line. He really does have no interest in harm tonight.”

You hesitated, doubting whether you could really believe that but not willing to leave that collar behind. Every second you were standing on the open street as a wolf felt like a second tempting fate, for someone to drive along or look out of one of those hotel windows and see you.

So as much as you didn’t want to get any closer to whatever this man was, when he held out the collar you could only struggle for so long before giving in. He helped guide it up and over your ears, and despite not being able to feel the spell take hold again you still gave a sigh of relief.

“A risky form to take in this city, but…understandable,” the Host said. He gave a soft sigh of his own before shifting his weight with an easy to miss wince of pain. “Being human is difficult, isn’t it?”

You nodded without thinking, before realizing he couldn’t see you do so. But for a moment, you thought you could hear the pain in your chest at those words echoed in his strange voice.

“It seems as though the Host suddenly has money for a good dinner tonight. Perhaps he could tempt you to join him?”

You tilted your head, with a curious whine. The sudden offer presented so many questions that you didn’t even know where to start, even if you could actually put a voice to any of them.

“There is a restaurant near here that doesn’t worry too much about the shape of its customers, and the Host would…appreciate the company. And if he may be honest, he hopes that perhaps a friendly gesture might encourage you to share your story with him one day, should that become a possibility. There is nothing the Host enjoys more than a good story, and he suspects yours will be an…interesting one.”

Yes, you supposed running into a werewolf masquerading as a dog probably would probably raise a few questions. And if you were honest, your own curiosity about this stranger was slowly getting the better of you, even considering the lingering sense of danger every time he so much as spoke.

Plus, as your growling stomach was too eager to remind you, you kind of hadn’t eaten in a while. Still, no reason for the Host to laugh at that, and your ears fell back to your head in a pout even as you followed him down the street. The Host walked slowly, his breath catching as though every step hurt, but he soon fell into a steady rhythm. Walking beside him, you startled when his hand rested on your back, only to realize that he was checking to make sure you were still there.

“The restaurant is not far from here,” he said as you walked together, your pace falling into step with his. “It’s close enough to the harbor to get all kinds arriving at any time of day or night. The Host has gone there often, just to listen to the stories passing through.”

Stories again. He said the word with the same relish as someone might talk about a fine wine or a rare treasure, and you wondered how much control anyone had over what they told the Host, once he asked with that strange voice that had so easily enchanted the other man.

It didn’t take long to reach the restaurant in question, where light and several voices spilled out of the glass doors, sending a new tremor up your spine that made you wonder what you were doing here. You stopped short, ready to turn and run, and the Host stopped with you.

“The Host does not believe anyone would questions a blind man with a dog, if that is a concern. And should it come to it, he can easily make people stop asking questions.”

You gave a low growl and he shrugged.

“But he doubts it would come to that here. So long as the meal is paid for, any customer is welcome here.”

Reassuring, but more reassuring was that those doors looked easy enough to push open from the inside, even with a set of paws, which meant you could always make a run for it if you had to. Plus, the smells coming from inside of the building were doing a lot to make you forget about anything else.

The host standing at the door did do a double take when the two of you walked in, but didn’t say a word when the other Host asked for a booth, just as the waiter didn’t even blink an eye when the Host ordered for both of you. In the space of seconds, you found yourself sitting at a table across from the Host, trying hard to keep your claws from puncturing the vinyl seat underneath you.

You tried to keep calm, tried to focus on the bowl of water sitting in front of you in place of a glass, tried to tune out the clatter of eating utensils on plates, the scrape of chair legs against carpet, the voices, so many people, why were this many people in a restaurant at this hour of the night—

“Easy, easy,” the Host murmured, the other voices growing a little stronger, washing out the other noises and filling the booth with his soothing tone. “Breathe in…breathe out…Focus on one thing at a time, start with right here and my voice…”

He kept talking, drawing your attention to the water, encouraging you to drink, then to count the lit candles, focusing only on the small lights that dotted the room and nothing else. As you did so, you realized that while it was brighter in here compared to outside, the only light in the room came from the lit candles and a fireplace in one wall. The Host encouraged you to ignore the long table full of people talking and to listen to the crack and snap of logs burning, to watch the flames flicker and leap.

“The Host often finds himself overwhelmed in the city, surrounded by so many voices, so many stories. Removing himself from the noise is not always an option, but narrowing his focus, choosing one thing to occupy his mind and fill his attention until he is ready to face the next, that has helped him more than once.”

The Host paused and sighed heavily before adding, “Although he understands completely if the extra company proves unbearable.”

You tilted your head, trying to figure out what he was talking about, when you heard the thump of footsteps so heavy that they sent tremors through the floor. As you looked for the source of the sound, a huge man that you could have easily mistaken for a bear at first sight entered the restaurant and greeted the crowded table near the fireplace with a shout.

Almost immediately, his eyes seemed drawn toward your table and the Host, who was slowly sinking down in his seat. A huge smile lit up the small square of face that wasn’t hidden by his hair or massive beard and the newcomer strode over, a pair of thick, wooden legs supporting his huge frame and punctuating every step.

“Look who it is! Me favorite crewmate, with the voice of a dirty angel!”

He slapped the Host’s back, nearly knocking him face first into the table, and asked, “What brings you around here at this hour? Don’t tell me yeh’ve heard the ship’s sailing first thing in the morning! Not anglin’ to join me crew again, are yeh?”

“The Host is just here to enjoy a good meal with a new acquaintance.”

The captain looked at you and nodded, as though completely unsurprised. “Mighty fine-looking dog. Mind if yeh scoot over and let the old captain join you two?”

Not that you had much of a choice in the matter, as you soon found yourself wedged in the tiny bit of remaining seat in between the captain and the wall. You winced as he shouted to the waiter for his regular order, the sound so loud that you could feel it. Everything about the captain was huge, from his size to his voice to his smell, but if the Host’s advice was to find one thing to focus on, the captain made that easy. With him next to you, there was no hope of anything else in the restaurant distracting you, that was for sure.

“What’s your dog’s name?” the captain asked, already patting the top of your head.

“The Host does not know, but they are not a dog, and they do not belong to him.”

“Hm, well this collar here says…” The captain leaned in to get a look at your tag and frowned at the engraving Marvin had made. “That this here is a cat? Well, what do I know, if that’s what yeh feel in yer bones that yeh are, who am I to question it?”

He ruffled your fur again, leaving you confused and slightly dizzy as he turned his attention back to the Host.

“So, what would it take to get yeh back out on the sea again?” The captain nudged you with his elbow and (loudly) confided, “Not the most useful in traditional piratin’, but this guy here has a talent when it comes to picking new members of the crew. Can tell yeh everything about a guy after two minutes, and he can sing anything, especially that one song that always makes me blubber like a little babe.”

“The Host is not singing ‘Baby Shark’ again, no matter how many times Captain Magnum tries to bring up that infernal song.”

Captain Magnum sniffled. “Aye, probably for the best. Even thinkin’ about it brings a tear to me eye—”

“Why?” the Host asked, and you suspected it wasn’t the first time.

The captain went on to both tease the Host about his time on the ship and not so subtly suggest reasons for him to come back, and sitting here between the pirate captain and the man with the strange voice, it slowly dawned on you: siren.

You had heard bits and pieces, stories and legends of creatures who lived in the sea or on rocky shores, with voices that could tempt a person to do anything, even dash their ship to pieces on cliffsides or leap into stormy seas never to be seen again. The stories were never confirmed, but when a ship went missing or a crew came back to the docks too shell-shocked to ever go back out on the water again, well, it was easy to have something to blame besides a negligent captain or novice crew. Even hunters were split on whether such a thing even existed, but the longer you sat with the memory of how the Host’s song affected that man, the more sure you became.

And here was Captain Magnum, trying to get one back on his ship. Did he know what the Host was?

If he did, would he even care?

You were starting to guess on that last one by the time the waiter returned with your food, which he placed on the table before nodding to each of you in turn and walking away. Leaving the Host to pick up a fork and the Captain to skewer his barely cooked steak with a knife.

Leaving you to look from them to the plate in front of you, mouth already watering at the smell even if the monochrome bits all looked the same, only to feel the same dread that began to build with every meal back at the house. Except here you couldn’t just wait until the others were gone or distracted, not when they were literally sitting right next to you.

Before the mirror, you never once ate in wolf form. To be fair, you had avoided being in this shape as much as possible, but it never occurred to you to even consider the idea. Now, you were all too aware of every bite, of being on all fours hunched over a plate or a bowl, of being seen as just another animal. It’s when you heard his voice the most, the mocking tone, the jokes you could only too easily imagine him making if he could see you now.

An elbow nudged your ribs and the captain winked at you as he said, “Yeh better eat it before I do, that’s all I’ll say.”

“Captain Magnum is not bluffing. The Host says this with far too much experience.”

The captain grinned and took another bite of his steak, which he was holding up on the end of his knife like it was an overlarge shish kabob, his teeth easily tearing through the meat without any need of another utensil. The Host meanwhile was making his way through a fishy-smelling meal you couldn’t quite see from the other side of the table, but the size of the dish was large enough to fit quite a few whole fish on there.

You looked back down at your plate and cautiously took a bite. Neither one was watching you, too focused on their own plates, and before long you found yourself licking the bowl clean until the last grain of gravy-soaked rice was gone.

The Host let what looked like an entire intact fish skeleton drop to his plate with a happy sigh, and the captain licked each of his fingers before wiping them off with the extra-large sized napkin the waiter correctly assumed that he would need.

“Not bad,” the captain rumbled, and the Host nodded as the waiter returned to take their plates away.

“Perhaps thanks for the chef are in order?” the Host suggested, and the waiter seemed visibly surprised for the first time tonight.

“Really? I mean, he would love it, but, uh, our chef isn’t the…friendliest guy around,” the waiter said, getting a laugh out of the captain.

“He can join the club then! Send him out and I’ll give him a thump on the back meself.”

The waiter shrugged and headed for the kitchen, dirty dishes in hand. Meanwhile, the captain turned his gaze on the Host with what looked like a knowing gaze as he said, “Not like you to suggest somethin’ like that, Host. Almost friendly-like, if I didn’t know better.”

“The Host appreciates a good meal.”

“Hm. And taking care of someone else’s do—er, cat, too.” The captain ruffled your fur again, causing the tag on your collar to jingle. “Yeh’re not up to somethin’ now, are yeh?”

“The Host is very much not getting involved in anything at the moment,” the Host said, and you couldn’t tell if the sound of his other voices getting louder was supposed to mean he was being emphatic or absolutely lying. “And again, they’re not—”

His correction about you would have to wait, as he was interrupted by a shout from the kitchen followed by the doors bursting open.

“Who’s got somethin’ to say about my cooking?” the chef snarled as he walked out, waving away the waiter trying desperately to explain with the ladle still held tight in his hand.

All of the other sounds in the restaurant became a white noise, your ears ringing as you recognized that voice and the silhouette growing steadily more focused as he zeroed in your table. You would have known that angry tone anywhere, and as the chef’s face came close enough for you to make out, you realized neither had changed a bit since the party.

You stared openly, thoughts numb as the Chef slowly realized that the Host and the captain were actually complimenting his food. You listened as, totally flattered, he described how he opened this place with his bare hands, sweat, and tears. And maybe the financial backing of an old coworker who inherited quite a bit when their old boss kicked the bucket, you eventually connecting the dots and figuring out that he was talking about Benjamin the former butler.

And Mark.

He didn’t know, he really didn’t know that Mark had lived, that he had left the house. Just like it had never hit you until now that the others could still be out there. The Chef, Benjamin, George, they had all left while they had the chance, before…

You had to rest your head on the table as the restaurant began to spin, as the Chef’s appearance kicked up more memories than you could shove back down in time. You were almost relieved that he might be about to go when another person walked up to the table, wanting to talk to the Host and the captain.

“Meri! Ready to join the crew, then?” the captain asked the young woman, whose smile almost rivaled his own.

But it was her scent that caught your attention. She smelled a lot like the sea, in a similar but somehow distinct way from the Host, and yet there was another smell clinging to her skin and her clothes, a scent that you had recognized before but couldn’t bring yourself to think about, to even imagine it could be—

“You bet I am,” she said, before clasping her hand over the Host’s, a movement that seemed to take him by surprise. “Thank you, thank you for telling me about that hunter. You were so right about him, Abe—”

Whatever she was about to say next was interrupted by your front paws hitting the table as you rose up and bounded forward because, while you couldn’t kiss her or the Host for bringing you here, you could do the next best thing and try to lick both their faces. Flipping over the table in the process wasn’t the plan, but by that point you couldn’t care less.

Because he was alive.

He had survived the shot, he’d gotten back up again.

Abe, your Abe, was still alive and still out there somewhere.

And you, well, now you just had to find him.

((End of Part 15. Hope you’re enjoying the story so far! Thanks for being okay with a longer one this time, I would have felt bad leaving it at them jumping the fence. Plus I just really, really wanted to get to that final reveal already.

Link to Part 16: Caught on Camera.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox ))

[unincised]

It’s 12 in the morning and instead of doing homework I wrote a meta fic in the perspective of Dream and Wilbur during Dream SMP War. You can read it under the cut!

Inspired by (but not based around) <this post> and everyone’s replies, because that got me messed up tbh.

(It’s probably not chronologically correct / some events are probably forgotten or misinterpreted, but it’s early and I’m bored and inspired, so idk man.)

3k words; 2nd POV; any content warnings in the OG war apply here, but I don’t go into graphic detail so don’t worry. Might post on AO3 if I’m feeling cheeky.

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You started to regret your decision. They haven’t existed on your land for too long, but they had already caused more trouble than what was worth. Still, you allowed them to stay, because they captivated your citizens; Strange accents, lovable characteristics, and a reputation that they grew from living elsewhere. You had figured that they would make great additions to your Court, for as long as they wanted it.

You never anticipated they’d take advantage. You never thought they’d stoop so low as to begin forming their own illegal acts behind your back.

There were whispers among the people; Forced smiles that promised secrets. You grit your teeth, because how could anyone keep secrets from you? From their King? Your closest friends knew nothing, but that didn’t mean nothing was happening. So, despite their best efforts to keep you calm, you went out scouting. There were tunnels all across your land, stretching as far as needed, appearing and disappearing, reforming to your needs. You knew this land better than anyone, and you used it to your advantage.

Tommy was acting awfully strange. Forced laughter, nervous glances over his shoulder, sword always strapped to his side. You tailed him until he was no longer on the main road, sneaking around a mountain and deep into the woods. Past a river. He stopped outside a single caravan, knocking on the door and being allowed entry a few moments later. Your eyes narrowed; No one informed you of a residence this far out.

Finding a better vantage point, you peered through the foggy glass and saw brewing stands lining the walls, a man you knew to be Wilbur pulling out a stack of blaze rods. Tommy visibly laughed, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

You couldn’t believe it. In his own home? Did they have no respect?

That night, you confided with George and Sapnap, watching as they sneered at the blatant lack of tact. It was the final straw: You made a final decision to ban them until further notice, maybe in a simple temporary status if they cooperated.

No one explained these things to you. You had no older advisors, no parental guidance, just your two friends who you’d trust with your life. You had no experience dealing with treason within your ranks, especially between two foreign ambassadors that weren’t supposed to break off with their own agenda. This was out of your control, and your confrontation hadn’t even happened yet. There was an unease within the three of you, but it was left unaddressed. You had no time to ponder these things. You needed to act.

Wilbur Soot was not like you. He was older, had experience, was once teamed up with legends that everyone knew the names of. He had a long-standing status within this very tight community. Compared to him, you were no one. You were younger, newer, growing fast but that meant nothing in terms of status. Your land was not well known either — if you ever needed help, you doubted that others would come to your aid. In this way, you were alone.

Despite your warnings, they did not back off. By this point, you were starting to get desperate. If you couldn’t handle a few criminals, how were you to keep your legitimacy as a ruler? You would be considered a joke, possibly even overthrown. Most importantly, how would your friends see you?

Through all of this, the citizens were turning. George arrived back looking frantic, shedding his commoner clothing and pacing around the room. He spoke of the murmurs in the crowd, of the people starting to lean towards those… those criminals. They spoke of you as a tyrant, singing praises of those foreigners’ bravery and justice.

Alone with your thoughts, you reflected. You knew that this war — and you knew it would become a war, no matter how much Alyssa denied it — would need to end with you on top. Luckily, this was something you could do. You were born to fight, knew the newest and deadliest attack methods, knew how to plan out traps, how to get people right where you needed them and strike before they even registered what happened. You had slain dragons; this team of misfits wouldn’t stand a chance.

The next day, you burned Tubbo’s house to the ground, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you screamed your declaration. WHITE FLAGS. OUTSIDE, BY TOMORROW! Sapnap cheered as the mansion lit the night up in a red glow. You knew that they’d be able to see it from where they cowered behind their walls in the forest. You hoped that they would back down before any real damage was done.

Two new allies joined your side, a young boy called Punz and a man named Eret. You only publicised one, the other was an Ace. Eret spoke in the accent of their opposers, came from the same region of their world, was charismatic and excellent at deception. Without hesitation, you gave him orders to be their spy.

“I want something in return,” There was a smug grin on his face, as if he already knew he’d get what was asked.

“Name your price.” You didn’t so much like compromises on such time-sensitive topics, but you knew that his role in this war would go a long way.

He wanted a castle, and a title to fit it. At first, you worried this was his obscure way of asking for your crown. It wasn’t; He wanted the title, not the responsibilities. With a suppressed sigh of irritation, you shook his hand.

Eret fit into the newly dubbed “L’manberg” seamlessly. He reported that they had no suspicions, going as far as to let him help build their wall of black stone. Slowly, the tension left your body; With this, the war was a guaranteed win.

Sapnap, ever the arsonist, strode up you with a mischievous smile, toying with a flint and steel. His idea was childish, would only really serve as something to fill the downtime and cause panic, but he agreed anyway. It was methodical, calming, watching the trees around L’manberg go up in flames until all that remained was a charred wasteland where a lush forest once thrived. George let out an exasperated sigh when he finally arrived, looking like a disappointed parent. To make up for it, you allowed him to light one block of explosives in the entrance of the nation’s walls, cheering and whooping as it cracked the stone and left a sizable indentation in the earth. For a time, things were perfect.

The harsh realities came crashing down when he arrived back home, finding almost no citizens on his side, harsh glares and spit words of villain. It seemed as if everyone forgot why the war was started in the first place. Did no one remember that it was them who came, betrayed what few laws he had in place, and then proceeded to create a nation on his land? Yet people sympathised with the four traitors — half of which were children. If anything, the notion that Tommy and Tubbo were being used for Wilbur’s own gain was something to fight against, but still no one listened.

You were beyond desperation: You needed to end this once and for all. Giving Eret the signal, and suiting up with your three other allies, the Dream Team finally headed off to war.

It was brutal. You arrived with the upper hand, camping atop the Embassy and sniping them off, effectively pinning them in Tommy’s old hut. The tides changed, and you retreated while they advanced. A game of cat and mouse, the roles switching mid-battle and no one knowing who was going to end up on top.

You sent off Punz to check on Eret, who had stayed behind in L’manberg. He arrived back with a confident smile, nodding once. The plan was set in motion, and you waited until the group of traitors returned back to their nation to regroup and restock. You lead the way through the charred remains of your land, dodging old traps and keeping to the shadows. The looming walls of L’manberg came into view, and a collective spike of excitement went through them. This was it; This was the finale. After all the failed negotiations: Discs, explosives, words — none of it mattered.

The hidden wall slid open, and in one fell swoop, you overpowered the criminals once and for all.

A message arrived the next day, from none other than Tommy. On it was a simple request for a duel, written in as few words as possible. As if the very notion of you reading his words disgusted him. George and Sapnap scoffed at the request, knowing the outcome with confidence, but you accepted it anyway.

Tommy was tired, bags under his eyes and the bow held low. Still, his eyes burned with passion, a promise of your defeat. Such a weak promise. At the count of ten you turned, appreciating Tommy’s unwavering resolve before firing a precise arrow and watching it plunge into the boy’s shoulder. His own arrow whizzed past your head, a few inches from its mark.

With one last look to the group as they crowded around Tommy in an act of protection, you turned and left.

The boy was persistent, a trait that you both appreciated and hated. A week later he was back, standing before you, a round object held tightly in his hands. You raised an eyebrow, finally impressed with the negotiation. Yes, this was something you could get behind. A fair trade: Something important to him for something important to you. A single music disc for an entire nation. Without context, the deal would seem weak and worthless. You knew better. You knew that his disc was treasured above anything else Tommy had. It wasn’t just a disc, it was leverage.

You took it from his weak grasp, watching as his hands clenched around empty air, head held low, but shouldered squared. The disc was turned over in your hands, as if in contemplation, before you acquiesced. He seemed to curl up into himself, and you wondered if this was something he wanted at all, or if it was the mental ministrations of Wilbur.

Nevertheless, you bid him a good day and went home. For now, you promised yourself, just for now you’d let them be.

The boy was surprisingly easy to betray. He gave you and your fellow friends free reign of his land so long as you followed his rules and played nice. You wanted to laugh outright, seeing right through that clay mask and into the eyes of a boy who knew nothing of real life. His position was unique, what with holding such a powerful title at such a young age, and that expanse of untouched land. He had no advisors, no guidance, following his and his friends’ own immature instincts. It was funny to you, but something else itched under your skin. You forced a smile at the interactions, convincingly obedient, but behind the curtains you sneered at this… child’s rule. What about him made for a King? How was he able to gather so many loyal citizens?

The amusement you originally felt twisted into jealousy.

To spite this boy and his very idea of ruling, you planned a coup. A revolution. Something to stir the pot, just to take him down several notches. The first step was Tommy. Naive, malleable Tommy, who played his part perfectly without even knowing it was pre-planned. Truthfully, nothing was remarkably illegal or interesting about creating a drug business deep into the forest, but it was a start. You snuck Tommy notes, telling of a fun project you wanted his participation in. You told him that he couldn’t tell a soul — sans Tubbo, of course — and waited for that reliable Tommy behaviour of not being able to keep a secret.

When he arrived on the doorstep of your Caravan, you could feel the eyes of someone else in the shadows of the trees. You made a show of it, leading Tommy to the room with a window, where everything was set up in plain view. The child was none the wiser, grabbing eagerly at the blaze rods, happily shrieking at this new turn of events. You promised him glory. You were on the right side of the war.

And there would be a war.

Dream was not a cunning ruler. He was smart, sure — everyone knew of his dangerous traps, of him outmaneuvering several people at once, of the several dragons he had slain just for fun — but he knew nothing of politics. He never addressed his people, never tried to win their favor, focusing all of his attention on countering every single one of your plans. You used this to its fullest potential, entering the empty spotlight and basking in the sympathetic gaze of the former King’s citizens. He no longer controlled them; They were yours. Their support was yours, their love was yours, and they promised you loyalty.

You took it all, and turned it back on Dream. In a beautiful display of true political power, you watched as your new followers pieced together their own narrative. Dream’s status was ruined, his name dragged through the mud, and you didn’t even need to do much. It was glorious.

There were casualties in war. Tubbo’s home was not a variable you accounted for, but with a few pats on the head, the problem was glossed over. Children were simple that way, you supposed. You told them that he could rebuild a new one, a better one. Homes were temporary, independence was forever. Tommy was the final word, escorting his friend away while trying his best to empathise. The sorrowful expression dropped on your face, and you turned back to more important matters.

A new face was standing at the entrance of your nation. He looked lost, hopeful, a tad bit tired. His eyes were covered by dark glasses. Eret was a sort of enigma, seeming to be a perfect addition to the team. They didn’t ask questions, did as they were told, was never mean to the younger boys. With his help, the wall around L’manberg was completed. Eret’s story was that had lived in Dream’s realm for a long time, but never seemed to fit in anywhere. As the tensions rose between the King and people of their origin, Eret no longer felt safe in the Kingdom. He wanted somewhere to belong, and he knew that you were the right man to give him that chance.

You had never heard of Eret before then, so you assumed the story legitimate. You had originally planned to still keep a close eye, but Eret was disarming, fitting into your ranks like he was there all along, never seeming like he was telling anything but the truth. He took on responsibility for Tommy and Tubbo, something you appreciated greatly. Until there was reason not to, you accepted him.

Tommy was enthusiastic, ready to charge into battle at a moment's notice. He stayed glued to your side, attempting to mimic and become a perfect copy. As if he was hoping to take your place someday. How funny. Besides that, he was comparable to a guard dog, which you could appreciate to an extent (you’d appreciate it more if he would stop trying to challenge enemies to 1v1s at every opportunity). You deduced that, in a few years — when he was finally combat-ready — he could make a formidable opponent. But Tommy didn’t have that luxury of time, so you made do.

Another thing about Tommy, was his obsession with two particular music discs. You wish you had found out this weakness sooner, because by the time Tommy told you, Dream had already discovered its leverage. Tommy and Tubbo would spend days off-schedule trading useless items with Dream, managing to trick him a few times until Dream came back with a netherite axe and forcibly stole them back again. It seemed to be an endless cycle, one which you did not appreciate. When Tommy returned with the two discs — confirmed to be the real ones — you told him that no longer was he to toy with the enemy like that. A dark look crossed his face, before compliance overtook. He saluted and went to find an Ender Chest.

You awoke to the forest surrounding your walls alit with fire. Standing on the outskirts, tossing aside a spent flint and steel, was Sapnap. His grin was maniacal, dark eyes staring at you with a challenging expression, knowing that he was untouchable. You had made it clear that nothing inside your nation was to be touched, but that of course excluded everything else. You grit your teeth, turning back to confer with Eret.

As soon as your foot touched the steps leading into the caravan, an explosion shook the ground under you. A cloud of smoke and fire emanated from the entrance of your country. Debris flew in all directions, gravel and dirt landing in your hair and dusting your clothes. The sound of cheering was heard in the distance.

When the final battle plan commenced, everything went wrong. Tubbo returned the day of the attack with news that they raided his home and broke all the potions he had spent days preparing. Your stock was nowhere near the needed amount. When on the battlefield, the group of netherite soldiers had you all pinned, fire arrows raining down from the skies. Even when you were able to change the tides, you quickly ran out of resources and needed to return home. It was a constant up and down, and you were only able to relax when inside the safety of L’manberg’s walls.

Eret had something up his sleeve. Something he’d been working on in secret. You felt an unease, because the man you had thought to be an open book was capable of hiding an entire underground bunker, complete with chests filled with…

Nothing. The chests were empty, and you turned in alarm when the sound of a button was pushed.

A few days later, Tommy entered your quarters, eyes downcast in something similar to shame. You suppressed a sigh, knowing that nothing good could come from a look like that. As it turned out, Tommy had challenged Dream to a duel. A final act, winner takes all. You didn’t know what to feel. As the war progressed, you saw the change in Tommy; He holds himself differently now. Dried cuts covered his face, bruises littered across his body, a near-imperceptible limp on the right leg. He was in no position for a duel, but it was out of your control. He had brought this upon himself, and despite it all you knew he had to follow through.

An arrow embedded itself deep into Tommy’s shoulder, and you swallowed harshly. He fell to the ground, and his friends surrounded him in a flurry of panic. Dream was gone just as fast as he arrived. Somewhere inside you, you knew that this would be the outcome. Still, you were disappointed.

You sat atop the walls, charred and cracked, needing several repairs after all they went through. But they weren’t your walls anymore, were they? Dream and his posse had won, and it was time for you to leave. In an attempt to overthrow that boy, you made him stronger. The citizens were divided, one half cheering at Dream’s victory, the other crying at L’manberg’s fall. When had this game become so serious? You didn’t expect this attachment to a throwaway nation that was only expected to live as long as it was entertaining. Now it felt like a real home, a place of sanctuary. You did this, you built this place, you fought for it. Still, it was no longer yours.

“I did it, Wilbur.” Tommy’s voice, normally loud and childish, had a somber tone. There was an edge of maturity, and of something gained while another was lost. You looked at him, taking in his eyes that seemed on the verge of tears, of exhaustion laced into every feature on his face, of calloused hands littered with nasty blisters. What did you do? The answer was not expected — you were ready to say goodbye to this place, to move onto the next project, to forget L’manberg ever existed.

A smile tugged at your lips. So faithful were his soldiers, so giving, so ready to sacrifice everything for something their leader barely believed in. You pulled Tommy close, embracing him in a tight hug that felt so unfamiliar. Your smile turned into a sharp grin, overlooking your land and seeing so many futures, so many possibilities.

“I’m proud of you, Tommy.”

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms - Hey You

Part 15

I had planned to be so much further in the plot by this chapter and yet here we are. I don't want to say this is a filler chapter, because the reunion of the team and all is important but like, nothing exciting happens here. Very tame. Don't expect anything crazy. That's next chapter.

Special thanks to @cassiopeiathequeen for reading this over for me when I second guessed if I should even post this one or not.

CLOSED list of dinner specials (I'm tired, shush): @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

It took a moment for anyone to move, all still looking back and forth between Jason and her, as though unsure how to proceed.

While they took their sweet time figuring it out, Damian glanced at Jason, then back to her, "I see what you meant now. This will take time to adjust to."

"Oh?" She inquired, a quirk to her eyebrow.

"I keep looking to him, but that isn't correct, is it? It's annoying to think I might accidentally treat him as I treat you just because his flesh prison is the one I am accustomed to."

"Would that be so terrible?" She offered, face barely hinting at amusement.

"Yes."

Chuckling, she drew him closer into her lap where he allowed himself to huddle close, turning to watch the masses once more.

Jason, a state of content shock, kept their hands tightly bound, watching the two before him interact with such ease. Meanwhile the others only just now found the nerve to move fully into the living room, very aware of the two sets of eyes observing them. One pair, they thought they were used to, had seen almost everyday for years, but the glow to them was different. Electric green seemed to spark through the vivid blue, dangerous and wild. 

Kagami never felt fear as a civilian, especially after having been a superhero for so long. Had never felt threatened or like an easy target, but those eyes on her suddenly made her feel like prey in the sights of a killer. The dark green eyes set below only added to this.

Juleka couldn't explain how on edge the little boy put her. His hardened eyes never strayed from their little group, harsh and judging. No child should be so intimidating or coiled so tight, as though to pounce. The protective arms wrapped around him seemed less for their safety, but rather hinted at more than one opponent should things go downhill.

Marc suddenly had a new idea for a story about a lone wolf and her wolf cub, living in the wilderness, avoiding conflict but capable of taking down even the mightiest of warriors. They could wager a guess where that idea came from as they stood behind the armchair Kagami placed herself in, Chloe sitting on the arm of it, Juleka sitting on the carpet between her feet.

As for Chloe, she simply stared at who she could only assume was Jason. That tall, ridiculously muscled man, with his white streak and swimming teal eyes was who they had fought alongside so long? How in the hell did he pull off a tiny little teenage girl for so long? How old was this guy even to have such a scarred, built body? What had Mari been through in her time as him? She couldn't help it, she needed to know.

"Jason, how old are you?"

He startled in his seat, turning to look at her, "uh, well I was a year older than her, so eighteen, I guess."

"Seventeen and a half," Marinette corrected.

"But he said-"

"You don't continue aging in a dead body."

She answered so matter of fact, so flippantly, they fell silent once more. Kagami was the first to regain her bearings.

"Must you be so blunt about it?"

Those eyes swung to focus in on her, sharp with challenge, "Why not?"

Chloe rose to it first, "Because it hurts okay? Your acting like it means nothing, but it does. It hurts-!" 

"Like a crowbar to the face?" She cut in, a dark little smile twisting her face as the green seemed to flash in her eyes.

Damian snickered at the playful jab, adding on, "Such cutting words, Mari, how do they compare to the autopsy?

"Like a gentle caress, little one," her grin becoming more wicked as she nuzzled the top of his head. Right then the hand she forgot was gripping her own became nearly crushing as it shook.

"Fucking hell, Mari," his voice rattled out and as her head jerked in his direction, she saw his crumpled expression break into a broken laugh. He ran his free hand through his hair, "I only found out you were alive an hour ago, could we maybe hold off on the morbid humor?"

"Hey, that means I was alive two and a half more years than you thought though," she attempted to comfort him.

"Yeah? And how were those two years spent?" He snarked back, though she could hear the desperation in his voice, begging to know why she hadn't come back sooner. Hadn't looked for him.

"Curbing my bloodlust," she easily replied, not outwardly reacting, eyes searching his for understanding. The flash of green in his own answered. 

He shook his head and nudged Damian, the boy instinctively moving at the nudge from a familiar hand and looking pissed upon realizing his mistake as he dropped onto the other end of the couch behind where Mari had ended up. Jason heeded him no mind as he pulled Marinette closer until she moved herself into his lap, letting herself marvel at how small she now was.

"Excuse me? Do we just not exist over here?" Chloe snapped into their little bubble.

"I wish," Damian muttered.

"Watch it brat."

"Chloe," Marinette growled out the warning.

The blonde teared up, "Mari, we're friends. You remember right?"

Sighing, she clamped down on the anger, "Of course I remember. Please try to refrain from calling him names though," swiveling towards Damian, who had started smirking, she snapped him out of it, "And Damian, learn tolerance. More people will be entering our lives now and we'll have to navigate around those the other chooses to associate with." He hunched in on himself at her reprimand.

"She lashed out at you. Her feelings about your death are not your fault."

"They aren't, but I also have zero tact about the topic of my demise. Maybe I cannot be blamed for her feelings over my dying, but I could control how hurtful my words are. Then she wouldn't have felt the need to lash out, just as you wouldn't. I won't become more tactful and I'll understand if she doesn't wish to talk to me because of it, but I could have," she turned back to Chloe with that, noticing the contemplative look to some, sadness to others. Jason simply looked like he understood and sympathized.

"So how exactly did this group come to be?"

"It took less than two months for Jason to fire Chat," Juleka spoke up, gripping Kagami's calf from her spot on the floor, purposefully drawing attention to the person she held, " choose her as the new black cat."

"Fair enough, and the rest are holders as well, I presume?"

At this moment, kwamis began to reveal themselves, Longg peeking out of Chloe's bag, Trixx popping out of Marc's hoodie, Mullo showing off their spot amongst Juleka's hair. Tikki eventually floated out of Kagami's blazer, looking at her with forlorn, yet hopeful eyes.

Feeling a purr start up against her neck, she twisted to look up at Jason.

"You two switched?"

"We switch often," Kagami spoke here, cradling Tikki who sat her palm holding back tears at the lack of reaction given, "good for confusing the enemy. They never knew which of us it was until the fighting style gave it away."

"It also became necessary due to my not being a very good fit for Tikki despite my body being the proper match," Jason cut in here.

"Juleka and I switch often as well. Fits us better that way."

"I stay the same, but I have three different forms, so I suppose it's fair," Chloe added.

"And Hawkmoth?"

"Gone. We ended it about a year or so ago," Jason reassured.

Only then did a tiny, happy smile slip onto her face, lightening the atmosphere and allowing everyone in the room to relax.

"Tikki? I've missed you sweetie bug," Mari cooed, the little goddess perking up and launching herself forward into the other side of her neck to cuddle close.

"Mari? I'm so happy you're alive! I missed you so much, you don't even know!" Tikki sniffled then immediately begin to scold her, "don't you ever pull a stunt like that on me again, do you hear? I can't lose you again."

"I know, I'm sorry. I cannot promise that."

"What does that mean?!"

"I might not have known I would die in that moment, but I would do so again," she looked over to Jason now, "I would take that hit again without hesitation. And I'm sure my life being threatened isn't going to suddenly stop. I will however do everything within my abilities to prevent another unnecessary death." 

The kwami gave a little huffy sniffle and ducked back into her neck once more, as Kagami gave a cough. "Don't worry, I have no intention of taking back your miraculous. You fit Tikki quite nicely from what I can tell."

"You.. Don't want me back?" Tikki spoke up.

"It's not that I wouldn't like to have you back by my side, but tell me truthfully Tik. Looking into my soul, could you see me being able to use your miraculous?"

The kwami deflated once more at that, knowing her to be right. At that moment, she felt a small hand softly tap her back before reaching up by her neck and slowly cupping the sleepy cat resting there. Sitting perfectly still until Plagg had been completely extracted, she turned to watch Damian slowly pet the God, the surprisingly docile kwami watching the boy out of the slits of his eyes. 

"What is he?" Damian looked to her, wide eyed and curious.

Chloe spoke up, trying to amend the static from earlier, "He's a kwami. They're like pocket sized Gods, bonded to pieces of jewelry. The person who wears that jewelry is granted the ability to use the corresponding kwami's power. His name is Plagg and he's the kwami of Destruction."

Damian nodded along, eyes filled with wonder as the others took turns introducing the other kwamis in the room, Tikki joining them as Plagg floated back over to Mari. For her part, Mari relaxed further as the others became purposefully distracted so as not to overwhelm each other any further, while also keeping Damian occupied.

Turning to greet Plagg, she offered a considering look, "You were on my person in the cafe."

He nodded.

"You adjusted my aim during the attack."

"You were going to kill them," he tensed up, tone defensive.

"I know."

"Marinette-"

"I'm glad you stopped me. They were not lives that needed taken."

"You've changed so much," the cat kwami sounded remorseful and desolate, taking her in, soul and all. 

"I have. You still love me though?"

"Course I do, sweetheart," the big green eyes teared up, never good at hiding his real feelings around her, especially now that he could see his own destruction magic in her soul and consuming Jason's body.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke out to the room, informing them that she'd be in the kitchen, making lunch. They all nodded in agreement, knowing they all needed the space to figure out their thoughts.

Jason followed her, "Mind if I join you?"

Turning around, knowing they no longer had an audience, she let her tears fall freely, speaking softly to not alert the others "Jay? This is real isn't it? You're really here?"

Holding her by the shoulders, he leaned down to meet her eyes, "shouldn't I be the one asking that?" He teased, smiling at her small laugh, "This is some surreal shit, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she choked out, rubbing her eye as she pushed forward and pressed her face to his chest, wrapping herself around him, feeling his arms hover a moment before pulling her in tight.

"You're being strong for him, aren't you?"

Grabbing his hand, she led him into the bedroom, closing the door softly, "He doesn't have anyone else, Jay. I'm sure he told you about the league?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Didn't happen to mention what he was doing there, did he?

"He slipped a bit, but I'd rather hear it from you."

"Talia is his mother. She took me in so I could get him out. Trained me to be the perfect protector, gave me the means to leave, disconnected from him completely so he wouldn't argue. And of course I agreed. He was being abused, Jay. It was so terrible, the way they were raising him. But I don't know what I'm doing."

"I don't know, you seemed to be doing a pretty amazing job out there," he brushed tears off her face, still amazed that he could, "How do you want to handle this? With me having taken my body back. I'll follow your lead here."

"About that… You and I have joint custody."

"What?"

"Legally, you're his older brother, who adopted him after your parents died, since you were of age to do so. Marinette Todd is your wife who adopted him with you."

"Wh-why would you- I mean-?" He cut himself off, confused.

"Well I mean, I didn't think the connection would ever come back, but in case it did or if I felt it safe to find you. I didn't want to take a chance. We can go back and change them?"

"It's fine, just, how old did you make us to be married and able to adopt a child?"

"Well he's your brother, so the adoption part would be easy despite age, plus we forged documentation for cps check-ins for two years, so they won't be checking now."

"And how old does that make us?"

"You're twenty one and I'm twenty. We've been his legal parents since you turned nineteen. We married the year after I graduated high school. You looked old enough to pull it off and I wasn't sure what I looked like anymore but doubted anyone would look twice."

"Well alright then," he blinked, pulling her close again and setting his head on top of hers, "It's going to take a while to get used to being this tall," he admitted.

"How do you think I feel," she rested fully against him, blown away by the ability to lean on someone for once.

A knock sounded on the door and Damian peaked in, "Mari? You need to come see this."