#also I will be remembering this prev tag and using it in the future>

[self-made-purgatories]

should be noted that the majority of the remaining 40% of weird fandom tropes are actual literal canon (sex pollen! fuck or die! aliens made them do it! traveling back to feral caveman times and fucking behaving like a feral caveman!) because the creators and the writers and the actors on the show also absolutely, hopelessly, desperately wanted to fuck Spock

like a solid 60% of weird fandom tropes were invented by women who needed slightly more avant garde ways to fuck spock.... wanting to fuck spock is in many ways a load bearing pillar of fandom like if u took it away the source code would just break theres like a molecule of wanting to fuck spock or reaction to everyone wanting to fuck spock within the heart of fanfic all fanfiction is about wanting to fuck spock except fanfic about wanting to fuck spock which is about women in stem

[hellowoolf]

something, somehow, someday

chapter 3: sun stall | prev | next | series masterlist

series summary: you know you will love satoru for the rest of your life, but when you wake with his cursed energy in your navel there is no option but to flee. what future is there for a child of a god? at 18 satoru is without you, and you make off with a piece of him you hoped he'd never meet.

pairing: secret baby daddy!gojo x reader

tags: secret child trope, angst (lots), eventual fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, a lot of yearning :P

a/n: i have a poll up on chapter length so if you have an opinion please vote! it's been tied up almost the whole way, and the poll will end around sunday. also, as always, feel free to send asks about context/content, i know i can be...sparse sometimes >:) i love you all

main masterlist

18+! minors dni <3

~~~~~~~

SATORU, for his part, never resented you for leaving. he missed you almost masochistically: he dreamt of you on purpose, refused outright to forget, dragged your memory behind him, the whole comatose body of it. but soon after your leaving he failed so spectacularly at protecting amanai, and suguru defected not long after. he lost that year in totality to his own failure, to a boundless and indiscriminate wash of waste and desecration. it was everywhere. and so covered in it as he was, it was impossible to discern the particulars; your disappearance was a limb to a much larger, beastly thing. 

for a time he hated himself for losing two of the most important people in his life, though even that he had to abandon for megumi and tsumiki’s sake. by the time he had enough clarity to truly wonder why you left, he had the sense to recognize that returning to 2006 could do him no good. so no, there has been no hatred—in fact, he doesn’t think he could ever hate you—only a quiet wanting, the remainder of the ways he once loved you, and your koi fish in the stream. 

he hasn’t spent much time in this part of tokyo. shoko seems to have crested her temporary calm and dissolved again into a tremor satoru pretends not to see. she scans the neighborhood with fear and appetite in equal measure and he finds himself doing the same. she stops suddenly, remembering something.

“you should take off your blindfold.”

his brows pinch together. “ha?” it doesn’t come out cruel so much as confused.

shoko makes an expectant face: you are at my mercy. satoru continues walking as he slips a finger behind the fabric and pulls it off. “you know, it’s cruel to string me along in the dark like this. just because you know something i don’t doesn’t mean you can prey on me,” he mutters.

shoko scoffs. “you think i’m enjoying this?”

“yeah, actually, i think you are at least a little bit,” he bites.

“gojo, i have scanned medical records, cctv footage, eye witness accounts—god i got teachers at the kyoto school involved for this—”

a small grin slides over satoru’s face. “utahime?”

shoko’s annoyance persists. “i’ve put years into doing this for you and you can’t offer me the courtesy of trusting me? this one time? after i’ve done something so monumental on your behalf? jesus, gojo, you really are—”

something behind satoru’s ribs turns over once, twice, snaps open. there are teeth in his sternum. he feels it all before he sees it, the tug to square his shoulders towards something, the echo of the person he used to be bellowing something inside of him, but he can’t make any of it out. he sees his eyes first, they’re his eyes, looking over your shoulder. they look frightened; he’s never seen his own eyes so afraid before.

there are a few things satoru knows immediately and a few others that are slower on the uptake. that is his child—this point is undeniable, though there isn’t much internalization that can happen right at this moment—and you are his mother. he would know you anywhere, he would know you in the dark, he would know you senseless, and he certainly knows you like this, eyes wide open and ten yards away. your back is turned and satoru also knows, right then, that you cannot sense him yet.

the kid does, though. he looks like a ghost, embraced in your arms, an eerie reconstruction of himself at that age. satoru wonders now if everyone found him as incandescently striking looking as he now finds this child, or whether it’s because it’s his. his child. there are no words or musings in him, only this feeling, the bite of wonderment and love and hurt. the latter, he thinks, wins out on his face.

the child whispers something in your ear and your back straightens. you shake your head a little, and the movement lets satoru see the side of your face for a brief and monumental second. god, you are just as terribly lovely as the day you left. there are more whispers between you and you stand, slowly, and satoru sees that you are now terrified, too. you come all the way up before you turn.

there is only a deep breath’s worth of time spent like this: satoru, frozen on the sidewalk and as helpless as he’s ever been, you, eyes wide, refusing to panic but nonetheless knowing that everything has changed, and your baby, the siphoning of each of you, stepped now in front of your legs. and that’s the worst part, satoru thinks. yes, it may be the most awful thing to have ever happened to him that this child worries satoru may hurt you. shoko and the neighborhood fade, blurred on the periphery of this little massacre shared among the three of you.

satoru moves first. a step towards you, and then another. you don’t make to protect your son, he knows you know that you don’t have to, but the boy clings to your knee behind him, so furious somehow and so petrified, and most of all determined to keep you safe. for one of the first times in his life satoru is glad for his six eyes; he can look at you both at once.

when he arrives at the altar of your feet satoru squats to his son’s level. it occurs to him only then that he must recognize satoru as his father; if he knows at all what his own face looks like then it would be impossible to miss it. 

the belated circumstances arrive in satoru’s head; this child has cursed energy, he has a cursed technique, he’s using it right now. satoru extends a hand towards the boy slowly, pauses each time he flinches, until suddenly his palm just…stops. whatever was left holding him upright leaks out his ears now as satoru sinks all the way to his knees.

your voice, against all odds, is even. “it’s okay, takara.” takara. he slumps a little as he relaxes, but keeps a chubby arm barring your legs from moving forward. you drop to the ground anyway, tears streaming down your face, and they look like they burn.

“say something,” you plead quietly.

satoru wrenches your name from his mouth like a death rattle. “what can i say? what do you want me to say?”

you shake your head, “i don’t know, i—i’m sorry. i can’t—you were never meant to meet him.”

“and what? you were just gonna keep him from me forever?”

you almost look confused as to how he couldn’t understand. “of course i was. he is your son, satoru. if people knew they would take him,” your voice raises only a fraction, “nobody could protect him from the onslaught of people who would use him to hurt you,” your words sound like sobs, they are heartbreaking, but you continue, “it was all i could do to protect you both.”

“and what about you? what about your protection? i could have been there for you and for him—”

“satoru, stop.”

“no, be serious with me. be honest with me. don’t you owe me that?” he’s almost manic now, so angry and so devastated and it bares itself in his voice, “how could you have decided without me?”

satoru wonders if you’d be yelling at him if takara wasn’t between you, but as it is you keep two hands on your volume. “i was practically a child! and so were you! i did what i thought was best. i did it for you. how could you ever be a father? i couldn’t burden you with that responsibility, there was too much on you already!”

satoru shakes with a terrible laughter. “and yet i ended up halfway to parenthood anyway!” he exclaims.

you suck in a breath. “what does that mean?”

where does he even begin? he tries his best to keep himself human but god how could you rob him of this? “i took in two zenin kids around when suguru defected.”

this information only slows you down for a moment before your face twists again. you had heard about suguru’s defection; yaga left you a voicemail, worried he’d seek you out. it’s one of the only times you had to well and fully restrain yourself from reaching out to satoru, who had loved geto voraciously, you think. you cast the thought aside and say again, slower, “i felt like i had no options. no way out but…away. i knew what you’d do if i told you.” 

and this is by far the most devastating thing you’d said to him so far. to acknowledge how deeply he cared for you seared you both, each of you shuddering with the memory. satoru practically whispers, “i can’t believe you took this from me…took him from me.”

the words rush out of your lips faster now. “i never wanted to hurt you, not ever, and that’s why i left. i stand by that choice.” you poke your pointer finger into his chest and he lets you. “he’s gotten to live free from us.” 

satoru grabs your wrist and keeps it close, firm but gentle, still. even feeling so betrayed by a version of you gone by he seeks your touch for comfort: his fingers wrap around to your pulse to feel you living. neither of you think much about how physically familiar you remain to one another. “he has my technique.” 

you both look at takara now, the first time since you began arguing. he looks even smaller up close, satoru thinks. his hands are wrung behind his back and his toes point in but he does not look at all confused. it’s clear to the both of you that he’s understood every word, or at least the meaning, and his eyes well with the knowing but he refuses to loosen. he stands stiff as satoru tilts his head and holds his hand out, releasing your wrist.

“my name is satoru.”

~~~~~~~

YOU cannot, try as you might, reconcile satoru gojo in your living room. takara points out his various toys at your request, and satoru watches him intently, nods when takara glances up at him. shoko had slipped quietly away watching the tableau of the three of you at the park, and against your better judgment you had let satoru through your front door; the two of them are blinding, beaming in each others company despite takara’s trepidation and satoru’s lingering hurt. they kneel together on the floor while you watch from the couch, witness now to a sacred moment, trying not to move.

you’re only mildly alarmed that you still know satoru’s posture enough to know he is trying to consume as much of takara’s presence as he possibly can. he’s hunched the way he is when he eats, ingesting the sight of his son who he’s known less than an hour. and you have so much left to say to him but you are not so cruel as to rip from him this time, too.

takara is sharp, too. in between turning his wooden trains upside down and sideways in this strange, stilted performance, he asks satoru enough questions to make a running catalogue in his mind: where do you live? do you have a job? do you have parents? how long did it take to get here? and satoru’s smile, already fond, nearly takes you to an early grave.

at least, you think to yourself, you can at last put to bed your questioning: you are still in love with satoru. watching them acclimate to each other's company, for the first time in a long time, you remember what it is you gave up for takara’s sake. in taking takara from satoru you forsake him, yes, but you denied yourself these moments, too. and part of you dreads the conversations with gojo that are sure to follow, but the rest opens itself to the warmth of the two of them, splayed unceremoniously across your carpet.

still, you meant what you said before; you don’t regret your decisions. the world of jujutsu asks for takara now, and you find a small comfort in the fact that he knows, to some degree, what he would lose if he took up the post of his lineage. 

takara’s eyes are sleepy as you glance at him now.

“bubba why don’t you say goodnight to satoru and i’ll come help you wash up in a few minutes?” 

takara hesitates. “will i see him again?”

you refuse to look at gojo when he asks. “yes,” you assure him, “i promise you will.” you mean it in a way takara can feel. he drags himself away and down the hall, leaving you alone with…what would you call your relationship now?

satoru takes his time situating himself on the couch next to you. how strange it is to see him again, to be thrust into such devastating conflict, to miss him so strongly at an arm’s length. he’s more stunning than you’ve ever seen him, blindfold still off and unfurled on your coffee table.

“he’s amazing,” he breathes. 

you can’t help the small smile that makes its way onto your face. “yeah, i know.”

satoru chews a moment on his question before he asks it. “did he ever ask about me?”

you deflate a little. “don’t do that.”

“don’t do what? don’t ask? don’t i deserve to know about my son?” his hands gesticulate ahead of him. you suppose the both of you are as angry at the other as you were earlier today, which is to say not very much, you think. mostly he is hurt—he cannot hide this from you—and you, somehow, are wounded, too, and you’re both floundering watching the other lick their blood dry. satoru continues, “don’t i deserve to know whether my son needed his father?”

“needed you? i assure you, satoru, i have been more than enough for him. i’ve given up the rest of my life in service of—”

“—that’s not what i meant—”

“isn’t it?” his eyes flit across your face, he’s looking for something and you’re unsure whether he’ll find it. “aren’t you asking me how often i’ve left a gap big enough for him to miss a man he never met? how often i failed?”

“no! i—no,” gojo reaches for you on instinct but leaves his palms hovering an inch from your forearms. “it’s obvious you’ve done an amazing job with him, especially given the circumstances, but—”

“and what circumstances would those be, exactly?” you ask with no small amount of cruelty. the funny thing is, you know exactly to which realities he is referring—your financial and familial solitude—but still it stings to feel questioned by this heir to a very real monetary fortune, beyond the immense power already bequeathed to him. “i may have wanted for things, gojo, but takara never has.”

bluer than anything human, satoru’s eyes look devastated, taken by gravity down his face. “don’t call me that.”

you purse your lips. “i just…” something vicious and sharp dissipates into the air, the both of you taking a breath, softly. “i’ve worked so hard to be proud of the way i have parented him.” satoru nods you on. “it’s not that i don’t want you in his life, i mean—i don’t think there was ever a moment when i didn’t want that at least a little bit. i can’t tell you how many times i wanted you to be there. but i feel…” you reach for him this time, resting a palm lightly on the back of his hand. “a little afraid, i guess,” you whisper.

satoru lets your admission flower in the silence a moment before he smiles, tiny and wry. “afraid of me?”

“yes,” you breathe. the white gleam of his hair bounces in the lamplight. “because everything is different.” you feel the steeled tension melt a little; you want to be honest with him, more than anything. “it feels a little bit like you’ve spoiled everything.”

satoru nods a little again, sober. “maybe i have.”

and your next confession will sound to satoru like a promise, you know it will, but it finds its way out anyway: “i can’t deny you him now, can i?”

“not without being terrible.”

you laugh something watery and real. “yeah, i guess not.” 

a silence consumes you both again, but it’s no longer hostile, the both of you too exhaustedly malleable  for anything more charged now. 

in the soft sounds of your apartment you are given the space to notice that you have an urge to ask about satoru’s life now. you don’t think you are capable of philosophizing more on your choices and the unyielding consequences tonight, and he’s seen now—at the cost, maybe, of your sanity—what your life has been in your six years away. and you suspect it may hurt you somehow to know more concretely how he’s lived in your absence, but the day has been long. you are tired. you allow yourself this luxury.

“you said you…adopted two kids? is that right?”

“i—yeah,” satoru says, surprised in a gentle sort of way, “they were collateral from a mission that summer.”

you soften even further at the thought of satoru growing into guardianship at the same time you did. something catches in your lungs. “how old are they now?”

satoru smiles at the thought of them. “the little one, megumi—a pain, honestly, and so mean to me—will be ten this year. tsumiki is three years older. i sometimes forget it, though. she acts so much like a little adult,” he laughs softly.

“i’d like to meet them,” you admit.

“i want you to, too,” satoru says, almost too fondly. you preen a little in it anyway.

“do they live on campus with you?”

“no, no. i tried that at the beginning but it felt…i don’t know, inappropriate? i got an apartment as close by as i could, and i stay there as often as i can.”

you hum. “you seem…” you have to look for the right words, “suited to this.”

“are you surprised?” he scoffs, not unkindly.

“i don’t know, i guess so,” you admit with a grin. a little teasing. a time capsule.

“i’m very mature now,” satoru says back.

and because the only secret you could ever keep from satoru was ruined this afternoon, you confess: “the you i have in my head has been from when you were 18. all this time has passed and—” you tilt your head back and forth slightly, “—and you haven’t aged in my mind at all. not until today, all at once.”

satoru’s eyes on you warm your cheeks and you can’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed, not really for anything. “and?”

you narrow your eyes. “and what?”

“am i still as wonderful all grown up?”

the laugh that comes from you is real. “that’s yet to be determined, actually.”

“smart girl,” he says, you hope without thinking. the quiet asserts itself again.

all these years later, you find yourself still intimately familiar with the choices satoru makes in your company. when he moves, and how: all of it has been in his own image, a predictable force. you have never flinched when he has reached for you, in part because you are unafraid, but also because you have always seemed to know when he wanted to move his hands.

but you are rendered entirely still as you realize—your mind is a moment behind you—that satoru is holding you, now. 

his arms are so warm you almost want to tear them from your body. instead—fool and terminally lovesick that you are—you press your forehead to the cradle of his neck and breathe the scent of him in. nothing has been settled tonight, not really, but neither of you move to acknowledge it, lest this sacrosanct handful of seconds be broken. you merely allow the bruising grip of his elbows around your biceps, the claw of your fingers around his sides, to hold.

tomorrow teases you from below the skyline. it’s only beginning to darken to evening but still you are confronted with the passing of time, with the reality of today. 

though you remember, here in his grasp, one of the things you used to love so much about pressing up against a supernova like satoru; all other light fades, and the darkness, too, is gobbled up. time stops for a moment, you think, a withholding of breath as the sun stalls in its burial below the city. you allow yourself to forget temporarily about the fact that you have no idea what to do, of how to continue living on top of the remains of this life you crafted so carefully, and push your nose further into satoru’s shoulder.  he whispers into your hair, so quiet you wonder if it isn’t meant for you: “i missed you.”

~~~~~~~

a/n: i feel SO eternally grateful as the taglist for this series continues to grow. i can't tell you all how much it means to me that you keep reading. i adore you <3 also, if you're interested in having a say on my chapter length in the future, vote in the poll i posted on sunday hehe. as always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

taglist: @emochosoluvr @por0u @vraiao @voidfulcrumdilemma @vaniyeiszero @missingnozw @crowroakchi @seikamuzu @anonymous-3846 @asahinasstuff @kunisnaomi @bl6o6dy @meanderingwistera @lilac-heartz @acowboykisser @miiikooooooo @missingnozw @heiranni @sadmonke @alicebleu @sanchann @splinx04real @lolllllllllllllliiiiiii @eggrollforyou @updated-version @yaurss @khaleesihavilliard @mizzowizzo @mierins @eolivy @spencerreidisagorgman @dahliadaenerys @cantchooseanctbias @fallenfromgrxce @theclassbookworm @liestel @jiasdream @maddy24207 @valoriya @19catspiledontopofeachother @hbhbhbhbhby @bijuu-naginata @jv5t4g1rl @bobagang @thraxpatty @muscovitechick

[sailortongue]

Lima Bean

pairing: kenji sato x reader

summary: kenji makes his intentions clear and a certain reporter is a little too committed to his job

an: ik the title is kinda dumb but bear with me i have an idea (title is still subject to change if the idea falls through). also tags are being kind of silly and I don't know how to get them to act right so if you asked to be tagged but didn't get notified I swear I tried 😭

wc: 2k

navi | prev | series mlist

--------

“I’m pregnant.”

Those two words changed Kenji’s entire demeanor in seconds. His face dropped and his jaw hung open in complete disbelief. “. . . Are you sure?” He asked. 

“Positive test, missed period, morning sickness,” you listed off. “I’m going to make an OBGYN appointment anyway just to be 100% sure, but so far yeah I’m pretty sure.”

“Ah,” was all he could say in response, his mind both blank and racing at the same time. Had he really not used protection? Was he that drunk? He tried to think back to that night, but all he could seem to remember was a flash of you under him and his lips on your neck. His face immediately flushed scarlet. 

“Are you angry?” You asked, noticing the rapid shift in his complexion. 

He rushed to deny your assumption. “No! No, nothing like that. I'm just . . . not sure what to make of this.”

“I know how you feel,” you said wryly. “Just thought you should know, I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling almost hollow inside with the knowledge that your life was about to undergo a drastic change.

“I appreciate it, thank you. If you don’t mind, uh,” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “I'd like to be present. To be a father.” He thought back to when he took care of Emi and how much he came to love her. He was confident in his ability to take care of his own biological child, even if these weren’t the circumstances in which he imagined he’d have one. 

You looked at him as if you were meeting him for the very first time, entirely taken aback by his willingness to step up. Truthfully you'd expected him to deny any responsibility, but there he was, asking to raise the baby alongside you—to step up to the metaphorical plate and be a dad. “Really? And you’re not going to leave at the first inconvenience?”

“No. You have my word on that.” His expression was one of utmost sincerity. “I want to be a dad. Granted, this isn’t how I expected it,” he laughed awkwardly, “but it’s how it happened, and I won't run away from it.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I'll be honest, I didn't expect you to be so noble.”

“Thought I’d tell you to get rid of it or just throw a check at you to never contact me again? I understand the concern, but I want to be there every step of the way.”

“Then, would you like to come with me for my appointment? I haven’t scheduled it yet but . . .” you trailed off, realizing you were asking a very busy man to take time out of his day to accompany you to a doctor's appointment. “Unless of course you’re busy or don’t want to,” you added quickly.

He laughed at how flustered you’d gotten. “I'll be there. No matter the weather, practice, or a game, I will be there. That’s my kid you’ve got in there after all,” he said with a broad grin on his face as he pointed to your abdomen. “And that takes priority over everything else.”

“Wow. You’re smitten with something that’s probably the size of a lima bean right now,” you teased.

“Woah now, that’s our lima bean and I’m going to be the best dad a bean could wish for,” he asserted, imagining teaching his future son or daughter to play baseball with him or helping with homework, even what it would be like to do his daughter’s hair, or perhaps teaching his son how to tie a tie.

He was snapped from his thoughts when you slid your phone towards him from across the table, the screen displaying a new contact. “If we're going to be coparenting we should have each other's numbers.”

He picked up the device to input his number and then checked his own phone. He showed you the screen, a message from your own number displayed there. 

It was only when he handed your phone back to you that you noticed how late it had already become. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize the time. I didn't mean to keep you so late,” you apologized. 

“No no, it’s fine. I'm glad you, or, Ami, I guess, insisted we have this conversation in person. Think if I had been told over text I’d still be sitting on the couch reading it over and over again,” he laughed. 

“That was how I felt looking at the test. It didn’t feel real.” You had a smile that mirrored his own, and you couldn’t believe how fortunate you were that Kenji wasn’t the douche you expected he’d be when he found out. Quite the opposite, to your pleasant surprise.

“Do you need a ride back home?” He asked earnestly, not quite ready to say bye. After all, you hadn’t  allowed him the chance the last time you had met. 

You shook your head as you stood from the table. “No, I drove here, but thanks anyway. I guess I'll keep in touch?”

He hummed in affirmation, standing from his chair, his impressive height towering over you. He gestured for you to walk first, following close behind you, his hand lightly pressed to your lower back as he walked with you to your car. While the two of you were wishing each other good night, another patron of the cafe was typing furiously into his phone, notifying his boss that he had just overheard the sport's world's juiciest scandal in months.

-❀-

The first thing you did the following day was schedule an appointment with an obstetrician. There had been a recent cancellation so you were able to get a slot in just a few days. You sent Kenji a text to notify him when and where, a small part of you looking forward to seeing him again. He responded quickly, saying he would definitely be there. 

When the day came, he called you to ask if you wanted to go together, rather than take two cars. You agreed and told him your address, choosing to wait for him inside due to the biting cold of December. When you heard a car pull up, you exited your home, and it took all of your willpower not to gawk at his car, which was probably worth more than your entire house. You saw the driver's door begin to open, and he stepped out, breathtakingly handsome as usual. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and waved, greeting you with a jovial “Morning!”

“Good morning, Kenji,” you returned, a smile gracing your features. 

As you approached the car, he slid back into the driver's seat and looked over at you, taking in the sight of the mother of his future child. He'd lain awake all night, playing with the idea over and over in his mind. He was really going to be a dad. How different could it be to raise a human baby if he’d already done so with a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby?

You noticed his gaze in your peripheral vision, but as you turned to look at him he snapped his attention forward and made himself busy with inputting the name of the doctor’s office you’d given him into the GPS. 

The ride was filled with pleasant small talk, asking each other how you had been since last time, basically avoiding the elephant in the room and talking about everything except the new life between you. After parking, he made sure to open the door to the office for you and entered after you, a rush of cold air enveloping you as you approached the front desk. You confirmed your appointment with the receptionist, and she directed the two of you to sit in the waiting room and told you your name would be called when the doctor was ready. 

As you were waiting, you noticed Kenji’s leg bouncing up and down rapidly, showing his nerves despite it not even being his appointment. You took the opportunity that had presented itself and placed your hand atop his knee. He looked over at you, his brown eyes wide and his lips pressed into a thin line. “You can wait in the car if you’d prefer—“

“No!” He all but shouted, refusing to let you believe for even one second that he would run out. “I said I would be here for you and I will,” he said adamantly, placing his hand over yours where it was still on his knee and squeezing tightly, a physical reassurance that we was staying put. 

“y/n l/n.” You heard your name called.  You and Kenji stood together, his hand not releasing yours. Instead, he rubbed calming circles on the skin as you were escorted into the patient rooms, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was meant to ease his nerves or yours. Either way, it was a sweet gesture.

-❀-

The gel was cold as it was spread across your exposed skin, sending shivers up your spine. A grainy black and white image showed up on the screen, and the doctor pointed to a small grey object depicted on it, surrounded by a sea of black. “This,” she started, “is the fetus.” You looked at the screen in awe before glancing over at Kenji. He was seated in a chair against the wall, his elbows braced on his knees as he leaned forward, his attention rapt on the screen and his lips open in a small “o” shape. 

The doctor chuckled at your amazed reactions. “Excited to be parents?” She asked.

You don’t think Kenji even heard her, so you answered. “To be totally honest, this was unexpected, but I think we can make it work. Kenji here made it very clear that he wants to be a dad.”

“That's wonderful to hear. Well, looking at the scan I'd say you’re about 7 weeks along and you can expect to welcome the baby around August 11. 

Kenji was practically bubbling as you each took your seats in the car, and he kept stealing glances at your tummy even if you weren’t showing any visible change yet. 

-❀-

These past few days of tailing the nation's sweetheart baseball player were so worth it, thought the man sitting in his car while browsing through the photos of Kenji Sato and a woman he’d never been seen with before entering and leaving an OBGYN facility together. Interesting. Very interesting. With those photos there was no denying that Kenji Sato, baseball heartthrob, was a soon-to-be father.

-❀-

Kenji put the car in park in your driveway. You made to get out of the car until he exclaimed “Wait!” You re-situated yourself on the seat, angling yourself towards him. He seemed almost at war with himself, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually say what had prompted him to stop you from leaving. “Would you, uh,” he faltered, chuckling awkwardly. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” He gave you a hopeful look. 

Heat flushed across your face and ears, and you beamed at him. “Doing things way out of order aren’t we?” You joked. 

He laughed mirthfully as well. “Way out of order,” he agreed. “So, was that a yes? To go out?”

“Yes, that was a yes,” you giggled, finding his eagerness endearingly sweet.

He nodded his head. “Ok. Ok, great. Are you free this Saturday? I'll pick you up?”

“I’ll see you then,” you agreed cheerfully, and, deciding to take another risk since you were doing things all out of order anyway, you leaned over and placed a quick peck against his cheek before hopping out of the car and waving goodbye. He continued to wait in the car until he saw you safely enter your home, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest and his face crimson red, one hand placed lightly against where your lips had touched his skin. 

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[nyanbin]

ღ infrunami — p.wb

03. awesome cool bros of apt 7a

꒰ EPISODE LENGTH ꒱ 2.2k words (oops...me when dat exposition pill hit)

꒰ AUTHOR’S NOTE ꒱ texts at the end of the chapter! also i took it upon myself to change the blog names on my taglist based on who i saw replied/asked!! so if you changed your blog name lmk if you want a diff blog to be tagged or if you would like me to remove the one i put :D

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𖦹 APR. 28 (YEAR 1, SPRING) — 6:42 PM

FROM YOUR SPOT BY THE WINDOW, you eye your potential roommates at their table across the café, observing the three of them as they chat and bicker. One of them, a taller boy who looked to be the youngest of the three, was in the middle of swatting another boy’s hand away as he tries to steal a piece from the pastry on his plate.

Was this really going to be your future?

Begrudgingly, you have to admit to yourself: Eunseok was right, after all. This was an almost ideal situation. A nice building you were already familiar with, relatively low rent, and your friends living right down the hall. It’s just… three male roommates? You must be crazy to be even considering it. 

But you’re not really in a position to pick and choose at the moment, because every other place you’ve looked at until now has been… subpar, to say the least. And you didn’t know how much longer you could withstand your current living situation: third-wheeling your roommate and her boyfriend for almost two-thirds of your day, every day, was not exactly a fun time. 

This was the best you were gonna get. How bad could it be, really?

Steeling yourself, you downed the rest of your drink and got up from your chair to make your way over to them, your hands clutching the strap of your bookbag.

A single thought rings through your mind the whole way there: God, I can’t believe I’m doing this.

None of them seem to notice when you approach their table, so you lightly clear your throat to get their attention. The first one you make eye contact with is the one you assume to be Wonbin, the doe-eyed boy who you had singled out to Eunseok earlier as “the one with the cute face.” With him in front of you now, you grimace inwardly. You would’ve never in your life confessed this thought to Eunseok if you had known you would meet him, let alone possibly end up living with him. When Wonbin notices you, he raises his eyebrows, blinking up at you. It’s a subtle gesture, but it has you nervously flitting your eyes to the other two boys’ faces, who are now also looking at you with similarly slightly surprised expressions.

You try a smile and a small wave, eyes scrunching in what you hoped looked like friendliness. “Hi… so—”

“Hey! You’re Eunseok’s friend, right?” One of the other boys speaks up before you can get another word out. “He must’ve told you we were here, too. I’m Sungchan, by the way; nice to meet you!” He has a toothy smile plastered on his face.

Flustered by his eagerness, the script that you had written in your head in preparation for this interaction dissipates into thin air. You blink at Sungchan for a few moments before coming up with a response. “Oh, um, I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

The other two boys introduce themselves to you as well. The one to the left was the one you had correctly assumed to be Wonbin. His introduction is curt, just his name spoken with a single corner of his mouth upturned. In the middle of the three was Anton, who seemed slightly more bashful, but still personable with the way he smiled up at you. Remembering his name from your conversation with Eunseok redirects your mind to the matter at hand, and now you’re trying to find a way to break the news to the three boys.

“I don’t know why Eunseok never introduced us!” Sungchan continues as you deliberate your options. ”I’m glad you did it yourself, I was worried he might never do it. And I don’t know what he’d do if we had approached you ourselves.” He ends his thought with a short, nervous laugh.

Wonbin, who you have been avoiding eye contact with the whole time, seems to realize you’re still standing over them, nervously fiddling with the strap of your bag. “You can sit, you know,” he murmurs, gesturing to the only empty chair left at the table.

You hesitate, but then nod sheepishly before taking a seat. Wonbin looks at you as you do so, as he sips on the straw of his drink, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. On the other hand, Sungchan and Anton seem eager to get to know you, seemingly having forgotten their current commitment. 

Looking at their enthusiastic expressions, you figure you should tell them now or you might never get to, so you speak up before they can say anything. “Hold on, just—give me a sec,” you take out your phone and show it to them, the screen opened up to your text messages with the unknown number you now know to be Anton. “You guys are here for the apartment, right?”

They all lean in, peering at your phone screen. You watch their eyes flicker down as they read the messages, biting your lip as you await their reaction.

“Huh? So you… you’re the one who texted?” Anton asks first. “Oh my god, I forgot we were even here for that. I figured they just weren’t gonna show up after waiting for so long.” 

“We told you, Anton! You should’ve at least figured out their name first!” Sungchan says, chastising Anton with a light slap to his shoulder. “Now, look what’s happened. Hey, at least this got us to finally meet, huh?” he continues, turning to you, laughter lacing his words. Wonbin seems to find it amusing, too; he has a slight grin on his face as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Yeah…” You inhale through your nose, exhaling as you say your next few words with uncertainty. “Well, I’m still interested, actually.”

The three of them stare at you, dumbfounded. “You still… want to move in? With us?” Sungchan asks slowly. His mouth is slightly agape, but the corners of his mouth are upturned in bemusement.

“I know, I know. I almost just gave up and left without talking to you guys when Eunseok said it was you three,” you say, hurriedly trying to explain yourself. “But, listen, I’ve been looking for a new place for ages and this is literally the best one I’ve found, and I don’t know when—or if—I’m gonna be able to find one as good as it. And I hate to have to plead my case, but I promise I’m a really good roommate, like the best! If it helps, Eunseok would be living, like, 50 feet away from us and I’m friends with the other guys, too! I just really, really, need this…” 

The three of them blink at you as you add a final, desperate, “Please?” They then turn to each other, and you sense they might have wordlessly agreed to something. Sungchan holds a hand up apologetically as they all stand, saying, “Sorry, give us a minute. Bro huddle.”

“That’s not a thing. We don’t do that,” Anton says, shaking his head, a frown on his face. He’s still waving his hands in denial as he’s pulled into the huddle. “Don’t listen to him.”

With their backs turned to you, Sungchan decides in a hushed voice. “So… she seems cool. I vote yes.”

“Dude, we’ve barely just met her,” Wonbin retorts.

“Well, yeah, says the one hardly even talking to her.” Wonbin opens his mouth in protest, but Sungchan continues without letting him defend himself. “Besides, if she’s friends with the other guys, I’m sure she actually is cool.”

“I don’t know, man. It’s just—she’s a girl, you know?” Wonbin says. When the other two boys narrow their eyes at him, he waves his hands, hurriedly saying, “I didn’t mean it like that! I just feel like living with a girl would be completely different. I mean, have any of you guys lived with a girl?”

They all pause to ponder his point, since, after all, he was right: none of the three boys had sisters. Then, Sungchan’s eyes light up and he snaps, remembering something. “Hey, didn’t you live with your ex before, Wonbin?”

“What?” Wonbin raises his eyebrows at him. “Do you mean the trip I went on with her family? All we did was sleep in the same house for like… three days.”

“That’s basically living with a girl!” But Wonbin, obviously, is still not convinced.

“Well, I think she seems nice, too,” Anton interjects. “And I feel like she’d be a better roommate than the both of you combined.” He shrugs as the two older boys shoot him glares. “I’m just saying; I don’t see how this could be a bad thing. If anything, she’s the one who practically poured out her heart and soul to us. We have no reason to turn her down!”

“Dramatic much?” Wonbin teases, and Anton scrunches his nose at him with a pout.

“In any case, that’s a 2-to-1 vote, Wonbin,” Sungchan declares. “You lose.”

Wonbin sighs, defeated. In truth, he wasn’t exactly sure why he was against you living with them. Like Anton and Sungchan, he found your demeanor to be actually quite charming, and he could easily see himself being friends with you. Yet, there was something about you that made him feel… nervous? Skeptical? Whatever it was, it was evident in the fact that he had spoken very little since you had approached them. But he chalked it up to him just being unfamiliar with you, a friend of a friend who had just offered to be their new roommate, and that whatever he was feeling would fade away soon.

Still seated at the table, you watch them murmuring to each other, nervously drumming your fingers against the tabletop. They break off the “bro huddle”, returning to their seats with serious expressions as if they just came from a very important executive business meeting.

There’s a beat of silence as you await their decision, and then Anton says, “Alright, you’re in.”

“Really?!” you exclaim, thrilled despite your apprehensiveness just a few minutes ago.

“Yeah, just to make sure, though,” he says, eyebrows raised and lips pursed, “you’re certain about this, right?” 

It dawns on you they’re probably looking out for you, since, even though this apartment checks a lot of things off your list, a girl living with three guys was still not the most ideal living situation. But this considerate gesture makes you even more appreciative of your future roommates, so you eagerly assured him, “Yeah! I’m one hundred percent sure!” (Definitely an overestimate, in retrospect.)

“Okay, cool, let’s talk details then!” Anton exclaims, clasping his hands together and setting them on the table. He goes into a spiel about what to expect once you move in, talking about things like the rent, the fussy old landlord, and how the garbage disposal has been broken for weeks now but they’re all too lazy to call a plumber so they resort to shoving a broom handle down there whenever it gets backed up. (A little concerning to you, but, hey, if it works!)

“Oh, and one last thing: you’ll have a room to yourself, obviously, but you’re gonna have to share a bathroom with Wonbin. Is that fine with you?”

You glance at Wonbin, who gives you the faintest of smiles. Ironically, he was the one you felt the least at ease with at this point, given his lack of engagement compared to the other two, but you had zero inclination to complain about such a small thing now. Besides, you were sure that this arrangement would somehow force the two of you to bond, in one way or another. “Yeah, I’m cool with that. My apartment right now only has one bathroom so I’m pretty much used to it.”

“We can show you around the apartment some time this week, if you want! When do you think you can move in?”

“Well, I’m busy with classes at the moment so I don’t think I’ll have enough time until, maybe, around the end of the week?”

“Sounds like a plan!” Anton proclaims, smiling with his eyes. Sungchan excitedly offers you an outstretched hand, ready to seal the deal, and you take it with a smile. You glance at Wonbin expectantly, but he still doesn’t say much, just offering a soft, quiet “congrats”, before leaning back into his chair. He seems content with being mostly an observer as you, Anton, and Sungchan get further acquainted with each other, only chiming in every now and then to make an offhand comment or give a brief response to one of your questions.

Sungchan, at one point, half-jokingly asks, “Okay, real talk though, who do you think’s the most attractive out of the three of us?”, causing Anton to jokingly grab the front of his t-shirt as if to fight him in your defense. To your surprise, Wonbin joins in, playfully wrapping an arm around Sungchan's shoulders in a half-headlock and ruffling his hair with a fist. Sungchan cries out in complaint, eliciting a fit of giggles out of you, your shoulders shaking as you watch the three boys grapple at each other.

It’s not something you would’ve expected from yourself half an hour prior, laughing and getting along with three boys who you had not only just met, but who were also going to be your new roommates within the week. But, hey, you figured that things change, right?

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꒰ AUTHOR’S NOTE ꒱ this took forever me to write for no reason sawryyy 😭 it also turned out WAYY longer than i was expecting but what can i say i am a yapper at heart (p.s. spot the new girl reference? :3)

꒰ TAGLIST ꒱ open! leave an ask or comment to be added :) (strikethrough = can’t be tagged)

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[sleepyfan-blog]

Serious Research

Author's note: This is the next fic in Mer!Trai's story! First. Prev. Next

warnings: none! please ask me to tag something if it bothers you

tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts

Summary: Trai uses one of Ancient Terra's "laptops" to better research how to properly woo his lovely, bonded human.

It had taken weeks of diligently working alongside some of his fussier Cousins to finally convince one of them to allow him use of the Ancient Terran equivalents to a dataslate - while they did have tablets, which were touch-based on top of the device to use it, but he found that it was much easier for him to use the laptop versions of the computational devices, as well as the desktop versions. The laptops were more easily portable and after some trial and error on Trai's part, the Word Bearer had figured out how to use the keyboard without accidentally causing damage to the device with his claws. It was very important to him that he learn how to use this device, as it was connected to the Ancient Terran version of the Noosphere - which was called The Internet at this time.

He had many questions, and while most of his cousins were content to answer the questions that he had with varying degrees of patience and amusement, Trai wanted to do some independent research… Besides, he didn't want to endure the usually playful teasing that he was likely to suffer if they found out that he wasn't sure how to court you, his wonderful bonded human without coming off as too intense, or potentially cause an awkward cultural clash. If he learned more about your culture, he hoped to have at least a bit better of an understanding as to your likely reactions to what he was going to do. That and he knew that humans courted each other during this time period. They probably had advice and tips on how to date each other that he could probably use. Which was what he was also after.

Trai clicks on the icon for the internet browser, humming a little to himself as it took a couple of seconds to load up, remembering the internet safety rules he'd been instructed on - and that not everything on the internet was truthful, which meant that he would need to try and cross-check any "facts" he found online with other sources to hopefully figure out what was actual truth and what was either a lie or a fancible fable.

Several weeks had passed since Zedkiel had met his fellow caretakers to the Primarchs. While he couldn’t say that he would be able to get along with all of them under normal circumstances 

The first question that he started with was perhaps a little bit basic, but he felt that:

What do humans like?

Was a sensible first question to ask. After all he desperately wanted to make you happy and to smile at him regularly. There were a bunch of articles about the psychology behind why humans like what they liked. 

What is Psychology?

The first couple of links were to acquire psychology degrees of some kind - either through online methods or links to physical training centers. How fascinating. Those links didn’t really explain what psychology was, so he continued to search, finding the answer to be fascinating. It made sense to study oneself and others around them mentally. It was a subject of study in the far future as well. But now he’s gotten off track, and went back to his search. His next inquiry was:

How do I woo a human?

He huffed a little as he sees a couple of links pop up, followed by several suggested questions. He still felt decidedly masculine, so it wasn't as if he was a woman trying to court a man… Nor was either you nor he underage, so questions about boys and girls didn't make sense to click on.

He found several more linked sites:

A wiki page suggesting a little over twenty different flirting tips, a place called Reddit on the r/dating… Thread? Community? Something. There were several links to "dating" sites. But it wasn't as if he wanted to date just anyone - which seemed to be the preferred term to wooing.

He read through the flirting tips, all of which boiled down to; ask questions about the person you're interested in, give them genuine compliments and find ways to touch their shoulders/arms/hands that didn't make them uncomfortable. There was conflicting information about eye contact - some humans liked a lot of eye contact, others found it intimidating or insulting.

Trai huffed a little and erased his previous question before putting in:

How do I date someone?

There was another link to the how to flirt page, but he'd already read that. There was also some stuff about being honest; he'd tried honesty and had spooked his human. Maybe there was a balance between being honest with one's potential love match and not saying all of what you hoped would happen all at once up front? But how did someone do that? It was another question to ask, once he'd read through the search results of this.

There were other helpful-ish suggestions. To be present in the moments that you spent with your loved one, and to be open to the dating opportunities around you… But Trai was determined to date you, not just any human who might be interested in being courted by and courting an Astartes. Maintain Independence… He could hunt and fight just fine, he simply stayed in the research aquarium that you worked at because this was the easiest way for him to keep contact with you. And he could help you with some of your work tasks!

There was also a link about woohooing one’s partner in amongst the other links about dating. Trai had no context for the term, but as he murmured “Woohoo.” To himself quietly, it was a fun word to say, and hopefully it would make sense?

Ohhhhh… It was related to a game… And in order to do so, the make believe person a mortal was playing needed to use romantic options on the target sim. Hugs, and Flirting… Asking if the sim was single and pick up lines. Also something about having a higher friendship level helped to.

Did Friendship Levels exist on Ancient Terra as well? Or was this only a thing in this sims game? What exactly was this sims ga-

No. He was getting off track again. And apparently if one had a good friendship level with the target sim, one didn’t necessarily need to also use romantic options in some versions of this sim game.

… Maybe he should look into this game, to get some practice in how to flirt and interact with baseline mortals in M3? Something to look into, at least. But later. He was a mer on a mission.

What is a pick up line?

Ah! They were a mixture of verbal ice breakers and ways to signal one was romantically and/or sexually interested in the person they were saying the pick up line to. He began to look up specific pick up lines… Groaning a little as many of them were really terrible, at least to his sensibilities, but many of them were partially meant to flatter the person they were being told to… But some of them were borderline if not outright rude, crass or demeaning.

One of the other suggested questions puzzled Trai, so he clicked on it.

How do you date in real life?

As… As opposed to what? Daydreaming in one's mind about who one wanted to date? Trai had done plenty of that already, as well as silently pining over your beautiful soul and lovely body. He wanted to act, not just daydream and silently wish. Human lives were so short, especially on Ancient Terra.

Apparently there were ways to date a person on this version of the noosphere? Trai couldn't imagine wanting to do that. The Noosphere was maintained by the Adeptus Mechanicus and heavily monitored by them and the loyalists. He shuddered internally at the thought of such a private part of him being documented for any curious mechanical maniac to read and chuckle over. He had enough teasing from his Cousins over his first fumbling attempt thank you very much.

He clicked on the wikihow site, as it had several different articles pertaining to dating.

One of the wikihow titles jumped out at him: How to get bitches: a comprehensive guide.

Wait.

What. What was a bitch?

He was unfamiliar with the word and quickly typed in the question. A small frown appeared on his face as he read through the different explanations as to what the word was. Using the term bitch in this context made him a little uncomfortable and wary that the tone that it struck in the title meant that the entire article was probably slanted in a mildly to moderately insulting manner to those being pursued. Still, he did click on the pejorative title. Perhaps it was meant to be provocative on purpose?

… Stalking, emotional blackmailing and manipulation and badgering someone over and over again until they gave into you and agreed to a date so you'd stop bothering them didn't seem… Like the most auspicious or loving start to a relationship. Still, he supposed these were things to watch out for?

You did seem to enjoy spending time with him, at least. Maybe if he set up a date idea, and then asked you to go on one with him, you'd say yes, and he could prove just how great a partner he would be? Yes. That sounded like a great idea. Which was why he typed into the question bar:

First date ideas

… Wow, that was a lot to take in all at once. there were dozens of articles with hundreds of ideas on them. But many of them required the use of local currency, of which Trai had none, so he altered the search term to figure out what free date activities he could suggest for you and he to go on. Or wait. He knew that many humans seemed to like sand dollars and other shells, especially if they were intact!

How to trade shells for money or other objects?

... Oh. Now he was reading articles about how the seashell trade was causing a great deal of devastation to the local mollusc and other shelled fish populations. Or at least, it had been until some of his pushier cousins had stepped in and started causing trouble for the large companies who were sending people out by the hundreds to collect shells, leaving none behind on many beaches. Still... If he harvested the shells sustainably, maybe he could get some of the local currency? But you worked in sea life preservation, and trying to court you with money he'd gotten with the blood of sea life felt... Wrong somehow. So he typed in:

Free first date ideas

There were fewer search results, but that honestly was less overwhelming for him to read through. While some of these first date ideas required items or materials he didn't have and probably wouldn't be able to easily barter access to, there were several things that he could do. That and he really liked the idea of sharing a meal with you, if you were amenable. He was an expert hand at hunting and foraging, and had learned the food safety standards for baseline humans on Ancient Terra, and was confident that he could create a meal that wouldn't make you sick.

Now all he had to do was to work up the courage to ask you out.

[hippolotamus]

Tagged for Tidbit Tuesday and/or WIP Wednesday by @barbiediaz @forthewolves @wikiangela @giddyupbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess @loserdiaz @spotsandsocks @eowon @cowboy-buddie @thewolvesof1998 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @spaceprincessem (I'm still catching up on all your lovely snippets. Consider yourself tagged back if you haven't posted for WIP Wednesday)

Tagging @shortsighted-owl @alyxmastershipper @stereopticons @elvensorceress @vanillahigh00 @apothecarose @chaosandwolves @heartshapedvows @buddierights @911onabc @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @statueinthestone @monsterrae1 @watchyourbuck @eddiediaztho @jesuisici33 @pirrusstuff if you wanna

IDK how I feel about all this but more from you're where I wanna go under the cut. All prev snippets here.

Buck returns the following day, like he said he would, continuing to do so for weeks. He learns Lucy’s schedule, what days she’s tending the cart, and makes it a point to see her.  He always arrives with the same question. She continues to leave him with the same answer. It becomes a bit of a running joke. He asks her to marry him and she tells him ‘no’. Sometimes, to add variety, she’ll say something like ‘if you can tell me my cat’s name, I’ll consider it’. It’s through these comments he begins to learn more about her. The first thing being that she doesn’t actually own a cat.  She tells him that her favorite color is aquamarine blue because it reminds her of the ocean, how she would like to travel more in the future; that she likes peas, corn and carrots, but not when they touch or mix together. Lucy proudly shares that she can drink most men under the table, and is exceptionally skilled at cards.  Buck also learns the history of Donato’s Flowers. It was started by Lucy’s grandparents, James and Emma, as a stall in Reading Terminal Market. Lucy’s mother had died in childbirth, and her father was either working or gambling, leaving Lucy with her grandparents most of the time.

She eventually tells Buck about going with them to the market as soon as she could walk, and helping when was strong enough to do so. How she would be rewarded by being allowed to pick out candy from the enormous bins several rows over from their stall.  “My sister used to take me there when we were kids,” he admits wistfully one October day. He hadn’t meant to say anything about Maddie, too afraid of tearing open the hole in his chest that never quite heals completely. But he did let it slip, so he doesn’t see any point in trying to hide it now. “We would get pastries and hot cider, or lemonade. Then we would walk around and she would make up stories about the different people we saw.” “Stories?” Lucy raises an eyebrow at him, a curious lilt to her voice. “Like what?” Buck takes a moment, letting his eyes flutter closed and breathing in the scent of chrysanthemums, roses, and fallen leaves. He pictures a maze of wooden booths that offer almost anything a person could want — meats, cheeses, bolts of fabric, cakes, pies, toys, and so much more than he can remember.  “There were always so many people bustling around. So much activity,” he recalls, his eyes still closed. “Haggling with vendors or trying to keep children in line. Then there were the out-of-towners. Easy to spot because of the way they would wind through the whole place, looking at anything and everything. I’m sure you know what I mean.” Buck huffs quietly, surprised by how easily the details come back. “Anyway, she would tell me to pick someone and then say they were a duchess who ran away from home. An undercover spy out for lunch. A pirate gathering supplies before going back out to sea. Absolutely ridiculous tales that would make us laugh until our sides hurt.” He opens his eyes to a world that’s very empty of Maddie and all the joy she brought him, and feels his heart break anew. Lucy watches him, equal parts fond and concerned.  “At any rate, that was more than you wanted to know,” he babbles. “Your cart is clearly no longer at the market. Tell me more about how it became this?”

[dirtbra1n]

WAIT ONE MORE I JUST REMEMBERED. Prev pres tashiro hanzawa. All three or any combination Whatever yknow.

TWELVE DAYS AGO NOW. answering to cope with the fact that I’m being held back from tashiro post by things like Class and Final projects and The horrors.

all of it makes sense. all of it compels me. you’re not insane and neither am I. I’m gonna reread Love & Passion for this. I have a feeling this is gonna come back to shoulders again sorry sunnfish. also I’m maliciously scanning through the note in my phone for something appropriately damaging and not big enough to be too spoilery This is such a fun slippery slope we’re on I sure hope I don’t subject us all to gravity! ha ha

I don’t know. I wouldn’t worry about it

two sentences in did you guys know this is fucked up Oh really fucked. what the hell did they put in this Call me prev prez the way I’m representative of an insurmountable barrier

was gonna hold off until I finished reading I changed my mind

facing an insurmountable barrier

dipping a toe in

“tagged as a potential future president”

^ naïveté

He was so much better than I was that I thought I might pass out from the sheer skill difference. This wasn’t one of those things where the more anxious I got, the more mistakes I made. No, it was a simple matter of one player being impossibly, crushingly better than the other.

Hey I’m gonna throw up maybe

tashiro thinking, I don’t have anywhere else I want to be. I like ping pong. tashiro thinking, verbatim, I just couldn’t accept the logical conclusion of those facts. Something inside wouldn’t let me.

I clenched my fists, a yawning, lonely feeling of loss opening within me.

I don’t get it. What happened to the loneliness?

hey I’m back. Guys seriously did you know how fucked up this all is

like I guess if I have to pin in down short form. prev prez -> tashiro = He sees something in you. in his sights from the start. a genius worthy of being in his inner circle.

and tashiro -> prev prez = an insurmountable wall; a high wall to scale. walk into club—rabbit, meet fox. It’s because I want to win. I want to beat him.

and prev prez -> masato = bearer of world’s gravity, inheritor of legacy. the next president. the next guy to pass you off to. speculatively: someone who’s seen a lot of you. speculatively: someone you might never show yourself to again.

and vice versa masato -> prev prez = someone who can shoulder responsibility without so much as a buckled knee. all the earth’s mass pressed into the world’s most loaded Yes, sir.

and of course tashiro -> masato = the next guy to be passed off to. Man, he sounds so cool saying that. Have a warm drink and put your feet up. run until you can’t anymore. run until you get your bearings. run after him. fast guy, that guy.

and of course masato -> tashiro = I hear great things about you all the time. [GUNSHOT] You’re the person I’m trusting in the most. [GUNSHOT] Not that I ever had any doubts about it. [GUNSHOT] did you know that the people you look out at can themselves look in? fucked up, isn’t it?

Love & Passion already this much. AND shirahama is there. god damn it. you notice how those got kinda longer. I’m sure that means nothing.

where was I going with this. that victorian conversation chair again, I guess.

and also the psychological homoerotic political drama in the ping pong club. some other stuff. prev prez is killing me. reblog to kill me faster Okay enough

[professional-crybb]

hey, hi there, I changed my username

@whispering-depths » » » @nevarran-hahren

still me! just reflecting the ebb and flow of my monomanic hyperfixation from bg3 to dragon age

also feel like I should do an intro post since it's been awhile, soooo

I'm mik! 29 yo, librarian, cross-stitcher, hobby artist, she/they is cool. this is my fandom blog, non-fandomy things will be over at my personal blog (@queenofcarrotflowers-s). my likes and follows will come from there as well. I like to post about my ocs sometimes, usually art or screencaps. but mostly i reblog things.

I'm usually super inconsistent with remembering to tag things, but I am diligently using both the "#veilguard spoilers" and "#datv spoilers" tags on *anything* related to da4 for the foreseeable future. please blacklist those tags if you wish to avoid spoilers.

» non-exhaustive list of fandoms/interests you may see here:

dragon age

baldur's gate 3

disco elysium

stardew valley

dungeon meshi

dropout tv

the sims

beastars

blue eye samurai

» my ocs (general oc tag):

Dragon Age (canon world state)

warden shira tabris (dao): city elf duelist/assassin rogue, romanced alistair (prev zevran). (she/they)

hedy mae hawke (da2): human apostate force mage/spirit healer, purple hawke, romanced anders (prev isabela). (she/her)

inquisitor janne lavellan (dai): dalish hunter/champion warrior, romanced solas. (she/her)

lorna "rook" ingellvar (datv): dwarven reaper warrior of the mourn watch, romanced lucanis (prev taash). (they/them)

Baldur's Gate 3

sorcha agaric: foundling, raised by myconids. half-drow circle of spores druid (they/she) - completed my first playthough with sorcha as a dark urge romancing astarion, but in my revised version of their story she is not exactly that. if i ever replay with them, she will romance both shadowheart and halsin.

juno: "drow" dark urge way of shadows monk (redeemed), romanced astarion (prev lae'zel). (they/them) - playthrough complete (twice lol)

tiresia allseer: urchin/orphan, tiefling wild magic sorcerer, fears her own power after a traumatic childhood experience, romanced gale (prev astarion). (she/her) - playthrough in progress

artemisia silvershield: disgraced noble, human-turned-tiefling fiendish warlock, romanced minthara. (she/her) - multiplayer playthrough abandoned, plans to revisit for future evil run

DnD/TTRPGs

gwinnera "gwin" strongbrow - gen z hill dwarf wood sculptor and art school dropout, college of creation bard with a glorious pink beard and space buns. travels the country performing live chainsaw woodcarving routines with their girlfriend, a fire-eating tiefling bard. (she/they) - created for a modern-day setting "oops! all bards" DnD campaign

hazel hawkins - 89 yo wandering occultist/researcher/folk magic practitioner, increasingly batty, cool lesbian grandma to the party. was selectively mute as a child, now never shuts up. will try to play matchmaker. got yeeted by a giant eyeball monster in the campaign finale. (she/her) - created for a call of cthulhu campaign

» other links:

my art

etsy shop (I sell digital cross stitch patterns that I create!)

ao3

feel free to say hi or reach out to chit chat about any of the things i've mentioned! i don't bite, but i *am* bad at starting conversations myself

x

[ruiniel]

Prickly thorns, tender roses

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Rating: Mature🔞

Relationship: Alucard/Original Female Character

Characters: Alucard, Original Character(s)

Chapter tags & warnings: injury, assault, POV original character, post-Castlevania Season III, inspired by Castlevania, canon-typical violence, personal interpretation of post-season III Alucard, written before season IV, POV Alucard

<PREV NEXT>

XIV. The only way

She did not sleep a wink the remainder of the night. Ravenna tossed and turned until daybreak, when she hastily dressed and crossed the many flights of stairs through the castle down to reach the kitchen. She hoped to find water and use it to rinse her throbbing wrist, where the creature had sunk its teeth into flesh.

But she found Adrian. A damnable blush of both guilt and unease spread across her nose and cheekbones at the sight of his turned back, and Ravenna thanked the high heavens she had time enough to regain her composure before he turned to her. The happening—sensations included—of the previous night was yet fresh in her mind, and meeting his eyes was now an onerous chore.

“Well met,” the woman greeted, her gaze flitting to the place where she thought the water containers were.

“What do you seek?”

Ravenna noticed the bottle her host held in one hand. She placed her arms behind her back. “Water,” she murmured. “And I would also need use of your supplies...” She lifted her gaze to his. It was yet blank, void of emotion. Not like last night, unguarded and aflame. It was not him. That was nothing but your own troubled mind under dark enchantment. Not him. And there is work to do here.

She nearly jostled out of her skin when Adrian spoke again, finding him much closer than before. “How so?”

“The incubus. It bit me,” she managed.

“May I?”

Ravenna froze. Slowly, she dared meet his eyes, appearing blissfully ignorant of the fresh memory those words evoked. Then they were narrowing, eyebrows lifting in question, and Ravenna gathered she’d been wordlessly gaping at him for too long. She retrieved enough of herself and gingerly produced her wrist, showing it to him.

Adrian made no movement, but his gaze lingered on the sight of her pierced skin. “It is not as grave as you’d think. Water is over there,” he pointed to the buckets.

Ravenna wasted no time heading to grab a smaller container to fill. Something irked her, ever at the back of her mind. “How did you find me last night?” she asked with her back to him. “...how did you know?”

Adrian was retrieving a dark satchel from a cabinet. “Both I and the castle sensed a foreign presence.”

“The castle sensed?…” Ravenna faced him, her curiosity ignited.

“This is not just any castle, Ravenna,” Adrian lifted his gaze to hers. “It has my father’s magic rooted deep within. I had grown wary and went on a swift inspection of the grounds. I spotted the creature… as it was carrying you away,” he added in a darker tone.

“It was my fault—”

“Yes, it was,” Alucard chimed.

“—and I will ask before I act in the future. But you could have mentioned this was a problem,” Ravenna could not help but add, irritation rising at his statement.

“Forgive me, Ravenna,” his voice gained that scornful edge she loathed, “I am not quite so accustomed to housing maidens here, to remember all and anything that wants to either defile, eat or kill you.”

Her face went beet red, but the sudden pain in her wrist was distraction enough, and she had to make haste in its tending.

“Do you wish to eat today?” the question came.

“...” Ravenna blinked, now holding an ewer full of water. “Yes?...” she added with reluctance.

“Then you may want to join me later,” Adrian said. “I assume you do want to know how to forage and find your own food?”

Her belly tightened, feeling hollow. A muted, dizzying spell of hunger gave her the answer. “Of... course, yes...” Ravenna was already walking away. Why would the image of him standing on his knees before her not fade from her mind? His lips, against her skin—

That was not him you fool.

Ravenna shuddered. “What did you see?” she asked suddenly, turning around.

“Pardon?” Adrian leaned against the table.

“When you spotted the incubus, what did you see? I know nothing of how they operate,” she swiftly masked her true intent.

“I saw what you saw, a deathly horror,” came the words, and she could read nothing on his face.

Ravenna released a brief sigh of relief which he missed, and turned to the entrance with fast steps. For once, the vastness of the castle appealed to her.

“Then meet me before the gates at midday?” Alucard suggested in her wake, puzzled by her manner. Of course, an incubus attack left its mark on the victim well into the day from what he knew, as would any encounter with a demon of the void, for that matter. He heard a mumble which may have been a ‘Yes’ as Ravenna sped away.

Odd, Alucard concluded, if he were to compare this to the previous evening, when she surprised him with the impertinent overstepping of her bounds. But he was honest enough with himself to admit his reaction had been more for shock than anything else. The touch of another had become a forgotten concept, and he felt disinclined to change that.

So why even dwell on such drivel?

Why had he seen the image of himself about to devour her last night in the woods? Why hadn’t he told her? There was little sense to it, that was why. Perhaps my eyes deceived me. He had been on his fifth bottle of wine at the time, after all, which was known to cause some distortion of vision. Despite this, he’d rushed to reach his foe in time, keeping at a distance as to not be easily discovered and risk it killing her in wrath. It was only when he neared close enough that Alucard commanded his sword to slay the demonspawn. What he remembered was his own blood pumping up his throat, boiling with unease.

He shook his head, took a deep breath, and rolled his shoulders.

Drivel.

He would not even attempt to understand.

Her swift steps took her to the library dome. Ravenna found the corner with healing supplies and began disinfecting the wound, then applied a a hastily concocted regenerative paste. She wrapped her wrist over the best she could. The flutter of a bird distracted her, and she remarked how one pane of the towering arched window was broken, allowing the presence of such windborne visitors. With this, the previous night came to mind yet again, and the woman at once felt intensely uncomfortable. Her hand went to her middle, fingers digging in.

Why him? Of all she may have wanted or wished for, why did it have to be him? Granted, she had been too fearful of him at first to see or feel what she did now. Calm yourself, Ravenna, she reasoned. All it takes is keeping one’s proper distance. And he was quite amenable to such, if his behavior in the engine room bore any indication. Yes, she would carry on as before and forget about it all. It was unspeakable, not to mention it concerned one whose mind and heart were completely unknown and hidden to her.

When done, Ravenna pursued the direction of the gates. There was a slight hitch in her step when she beheld Adrian outside, waiting for her. He wore his usual attire, and his sword rested in a scabbard at his hip. A dark satchel hung on his shoulder. It was another rich summer day outside, and she thought its light lent his features an ethereal sort of beauty. He shone with the sun, but he rarely ever smiled. Ravenna found it a pity.

“What are we searching for?” the woman asked as they fell in step together.

“Eggs.”

“Eggs?” she asked with a breath of laughter. Was that what he said?

“Yes, Ravenna, eggs. Mallard eggs, to be more precise. The water places here abound in wild duck.”

“Do they now?” she looked ahead, feeling her step lighten with the surge of summer air around them. “The son of Dracula, embarking on the grand quest for duck eggs!” Ravenna chirped, then covered her mouth though it was too late, and her head shot to the side to look at him. His profile was strained. “Adrian, I’m—“

“Then you wish not to partake,” he said, a devilish innocence in his tone.

“I did not say that!” Ravenna rebutted his sudden wit, then caught herself. Most perilous, this road, as her master would say. “Speaking of feeding,” she tried another thought, “You said before that you had no compulsion to drink blood. May I ask how so? You are half vampire, after all.”

“Is this still a fear of yours?” Alucard asked, absently brushing a fallen leaf from his shoulder.

“More a curiosity of my occupation,” Ravenna offered. “Would consuming blood make you stronger than you are?”

“I told you before I dislike the taste,” Alucard sighed, frowning. “Blood would aid in swifter healing, I reckon. But I do not require it to keep my strength as a full-fledged vampire would.”

“I see.”

“Besides,” he continued as they walked amidst the leafy trees together, “Believe it or not, I was taught not to cause suffering where unnecessary. Does that satisfy your morbid curiosity, scholar?”

Ravenna lowered her eyes in half a smile. She’d begun to like his inflection when he called her that. Since when? “For the time being.” It was warmer than she expected, and removing her outer robe was a significant improvement as her skin became heated from the thick, summer scented air.

Alucard walked leisurely through the grass, allowing the song of the forest to overwhelm him. The sun was ever strong at its highest this early in the season, but they walked in the shade. There was chirping, mewling and growling, reaching him from afar. There was the sway of waters not far ahead, and the forest leaned its brilliance over it all in varying shades of green. And then there was the rushing and grazing of her robe against the tall thistle bushes, and the fresh scent of the blood he did not need; its flavor still eluded him.

After crossing a strip of woods, they reached a large, clear lake, its green banks decked with weeping willow trees. On the waters lingered wild duck with their brightly tinted coats of green, brown, and blue.

Adrian showed her how long to wait, where to go and how many eggs to take to keep things even. One needed not prey on everything, he said. By the end, the satchel was half-full with a hefty number of their quarry.

“We are thieves, you know,” Ravenna grumbled as she gingerly picked two eggs from one nest.

“We do what we can to survive,” he shrugged.

“Well, I suppose—Adrian?” Ravenna looked up.

He was completely still, and despite all she knew of him, faster than she could blink, his hands alighted on her shoulders.

And then she could hear them as well. There was cackling and the desperate sounds of animals being harmed. “Someone approaches. Best you head into the trees, I think. I’ll cover us,” he told her, ushering her away.

“But—” Ravenna whispered, “you don’t even know who they are, or their numbers—“

Adrian’s hand rested on his sword pommel. “There cannot be more than the ones that were pursuing you,” he said meaningfully, bothered by her hesitation. There was no time for such now, and he led her forward. “Wait here, do not reveal yourself and if things go rotten, run to the castle. There are weapons in the study, and potions in the laboratory beneath the library,” he supplied.

The noises made by the intruders grew louder, and he could discern their steps. Alucard smelled it, clearly now: the scent of poisoned blood. “Go,” he urged an uneasy Ravenna, whose hand was unconsciously clutching his arm. Alucard unclasped her fingers and drew away.

Her eyes saying more than her lacking words could, Ravenna turned on her heel, and swiftly ran to take shelter.

No sooner did he see her figure disappear amid the trees than Alucard caught sight of the approaching strangers. Three of them. He shifted into wolf form, commanding his sword to intervene at his cue just as they spotted him.

“By mother’s damned soul, Zsuzsa, another wolf!” the first, a man of considerable brawn with a scruffy beard, spoke when his eyes fell on the animal. He wore dark leathers, and a sword hung at his hip.

“That is no wolf, you idiot, get it!” the other stranger, a tall woman, hailed even as Alucard leapt out of their way beyond the foliage.

The wolf ran, leading them farther and farther away from the castle, the two men ever on his tracks. The pursuit lasted little before he finally decided they were far enough to order his weapon to strike, when something dashed by him. Soon enough he heard it again, a lightning-fast target none could strike.

Alucard evaded another projectile hissing past him, which came embedded into a tree trunk, but uneven terrain caught him unawares and he skidded to the left. He felt a sharp pain spearing through his back, and then everything shattered and changed, including himself. He shapeshifted back to his two-legged form even as he fell to his knees. 

What on earth... he was convulsing. His limbs quaked and ached as he desperately tried to rise, to shift, to run, anything. But all he felt was burning pain shooting from his back, and a crushing, unseen wall caging his powers. He was furious and seething red, gritting his teeth as two shadows loomed above him.

The bearded man and the other stranger had approached, and were regarding their prey. One of them spit to the side.

“So Zsuzsa has yet the unbeatable sense for these critters, Arpad,” the stranger said, watching the other who bore the crossbow, which had struck Alucard.

“Suppose she does. We may get a good sum out of this one yet,” the one called Arpad grumbled, looking at a furious Alucard with narrowed eyes. “Well met, treasure trove,” he drawled, drawing an arrow from a quiver on his back and pointing towards its light grey tip. “Silver,” he grinned as he knelt beside their capture, “and I know few fell things in this world that are as weakened by silver as you seem to be.” He exposed rotten teeth in a mirthless rictus.

Alucard struggled though the pain was excruciating, black drowning the whites of his eyes completely, fangs and claws spearing sharper, deadlier. “What do you want?” he demanded.

The bearded one whistled in mock appraisal, turning to the woman who’d approached them in the meantime. “Well Zsuzsa, I say we got ourselves at least half a vampire, what you reckon? It may just be the one they said roams about these parts, killing people,” and he made a suggestive gesture with his fingers, as though feeling coin. “A better fare for us if it day-walks, methinks.”

The woman smiled, a cold, dour thing. Alucard noticed her eyes were deep and her jaw was grinding strangely. This one was in her prime years it seemed, dark of hair and brow, and her voice was grit and steel. “Take him to camp,” she ordered.

The last Alucard saw was the pommel of a dagger rushing to strike him in the face, before all turned black. When he regained his senses, he felt the deep harrowing burning anew, spiking under his right shoulder blade. He attempted movement, but was restrained on his side. They tied his hands behind his back, bound his legs together. He felt weak and his head was spinning, the pain flaring, as though thousands of needles were being endlessly plunged deeper and deeper into his self. As Alucard struggled, a pair of hard leather boots was planted before his eyes.

“He’s awake,” a male voice muttered.

Looking up, Alucard saw the man with the crossbow. He hissed when heavy hands were digging into his shoulder; he was unceremoniously dragged into a seated position, harshly flung against a tree trunk. He growled in agony as the arrow, still embedded into his back, went through completely.

“Oh, it wails, Zsuzsa,” the one named Arpad grinned.

“Once I am free...” Alucard said, though his words were slurred, his head bobbing forward.

A bout of laughter reached him. “I should like to see you try, blood sucker. Silver rope,” he pointed to the bonds holding the prisoner fast.

Alucard made one last attempt to free himself, coiling and striking forward so suddenly the hunter nearly fell on his behind.

He rose and struck Alucard across the face with his crossbow, leaving behind bloodied gashes which did not heal. Then he reached, taking Alucard by the hair. “There are many people, much more unpleasant than I, who would pay much for a pretty, rotten boy such as yourself—”

“Arpad, quit taunting it and get your carcass over here,” the hard voice of the woman reached his ears.

The other man had approached in the meantime, watching Alucard with interest. “Are there more of you?” he asked.

Alucard bared his teeth in a snarl.

“Bertalan,” the other bellowed a laugh, “You and your unbeatable negotiation skills,” he mocked. “Guard him,” he threw to his companion as he left to heed the woman’s call by the campfire.

“‘Tis you and I now, dark one,” Bertalan scorned ominously, clenching his gloved hand into a fist. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Alucard grunted as a well-placed strike caused his weakened vision to sway, and his head fell back against the tree trunk.

“When our buyers are done with you, you’ll be begging for that crossbow,” he offered. His jaw twitched, and Alucard heard the gnashing of teeth even from his lowered position.

Alucard tried to regain his sight. Enhanced bounty hunters, he concluded. That was the reason he sensed poison in their blood. The elixirs and decoctions they used were fatal to one untrained and unused to their destructive side effects.

Well, this is most unexpected, he thought, with a worrying amount of detached apathy. He cared little for his own life nowadays. Perhaps this was how it should be, for his death to come at the hands of his mother’s people, lowly and abhorrent though they were.

The Vault. The Castle.

What did it all matter in the end, anyway? He’d tried to put it to use, to teach others, to mold it into a new purpose. It all fell to ruin.

You are a cynic, Adrian of Wallachia.

Why those words of all came to mind, and why they had to be hers, he knew not.

Can you truly blame me, Ravenna? Alucard thought deliriously, hoping that by now she was far, far away.

Ravenna ran to the castle, thoughts whirling, stumbling, with her feet melting beneath her. Three of them. There are three of them. Despite his urging to the contrary, she had stood and watched, unable to turn and flee. And before her widening eyes Adrian had shifted into the form of a great wolf, his light amber eyes the only sign as to who it was.

Ravenna had then seen him flee and followed when the stern woman hunter set on the trails of her men, helplessly watching as Adrian was struck by a crossbow arrow. And then he fell, and she witnessed him changing back to his first form, unable to rise. The woman followed from afar when they dragged him away, seeing the direction they were heading into, and how they fastened him with silvered rope which burned through his skin. She had turned, and ran.

How would she do this? Weapons, Ravenna recalled his words. And potions, he said there were potions.

She rushed and searched the study, finding nothing she knew how to wield. Then another thought struck her. She crossed two stairs at a time, fleeing to her chamber and retrieved her dagger, following swiftly through the corridors to reach the library. Once there, Ravenna searched the place. There were a few items left to choose from, but one in particular caught her eye.

She took the flask containing a blue liquid and rushed back towards the gates. There was no time to waste, though she had no notion of how to do this, especially since Adrian had been completely subdued. The only way, Ravenna emboldened herself while feeling miserably inadequate at the same time. She realized in passing irony how she’d said the very same once before, when running blindly into his home.

The cover of darkness was a meager aid, but it would have to do. And she hoped, prayed, his captors would spend the night and were still in the area.

Ravenna rushed through the wood with a hooded cloak shielding her face, shivering, swift and careful as a shadow. She crossed through the pathless forest, her movements shrouded by a moonless night. The faraway howling of a wolf reached her; her skin prickled. He had done the same for her. This is the only way.

<PREV NEXT>

[365text]

real talk who else cried to the “chicken soup for the ... soul” series when u were younger

[mashed-potato101]

Imagine this...

|Twisted Wonderland|

Mc turns into a child due to an alchemy accident. Instead of making someone/people do the babysitting, it's the staff who will take care of them

Masterlist | Parts 1-?

≪Prev |[Part 2]| Next≫

A/N: This is actually longer than I expected. I might turn this into a mini-series. I am also unsure about the characters' class schedules and who's in their classes. I made a few assumptions and just went with the flow.

Tag list: @pansexualproblemchild

Students are waiting inside the classroom for their professor to start class. Just as the bell rang, Trein walked in with Lucius in his arms like usual. But this time it is different. Everyone in the classroom gasped when they saw your little figure walking by his side, hand in hand. You wore an outfit that was obviously designed by Crewel and a backpack with stuff he also packed for you. 

“You can sit down on an empty seat if you’d like,” Trein suggested. 

You nodded and made your way to an empty seat, which happens to be next to the one and only Malleus himself. You sat down and placed your backpack beside you, taking out your crayons and coloring book. You glance to your left to see the dragon fae eyeing you. Your eyes widened and unexpectedly embraced him. 

“Tsunotaro!” you burst with a huge smile on your face. 

Everyone jumped from what you’ve just done.  

“Ts… Tsun…. TSUNOTARO!?!” 

Not only did you hug the future king of faes, but call him a silly name! CHILD PLEASE WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU’RE TOO YOUNG TO DIE!!!! 

The room grew tense, worrying what Malleus would do to you. Instead, he placed his hand on your head and smiled. 

“fufufu... Hello, child of man.” 

The students let out a loud sigh of relief and thought the fae would be angry. Trein, now at the desk with Lucius on top, clicked his tongue. 

“(y/n), please do not disrupt my class.” 

You released Malleus from your hold, which earned a pout from him. “Sorry, Grandpa Trein.” 

Students are now holding in their squeal from your cuteness. 

“Now, shall we begin?” 

You silently colored in your coloring book, legs swinging as the class progressed. Many students would often peek at you. On the other side of the room, Cater would secretly snap pics and upload them on Magic Cam. Look how cute mini prefect is! #socute #Iwannahugthem 

Malleus couldn’t focus on Trein’s lecture and watched you coloring instead. He already knows some of the lessons, so why should he be listening? He admits you looked cute when you were in your normal form. But you look even more adorable in this figure!  

While coloring your book, you often listened to Trein’s lecture. Generally, you'd get bored and sleepy from his voice. But now, it’s like listening to your grandpa telling you tales from his olden days. 

In the middle of class, you grew sleepy and shortly took a nap, using your arms as a pillow for your head. So young, so innocent, so pure. The horned man beside you is fighting his dragon urge to sweep you away and place you into a tall tower, isolating you from danger.  

Lilia peeks at you and smirks, remembering the times he took care of little Malleus, Silver, and Sebek. Oh, how he missed those days. His caretaker instincts are going off. Like Malleus, he’d like to kidnap you and take care of you instead. 

Time has passed as you were still asleep. The bell rang, and the final class of today are now over. 

“I hope those who were distracted or slept through the lecture have learned today’s lesson.” 

All the students soon got up from their seats and walked out of the classroom. Trein walked up to your sleeping figure with Lucious, who hopped onto the desk and rubbed his head to yours with a purr. You stirred and rubbed your eyes, slowly opening them to see the furry cat and Trein in front of you. 

“Mmmm... What time is it?” 

“It is now the end of school time,” Trein spoke, “Crewel will pick you up any moment soon. I suggest collecting your things and getting ready.” 

You nodded with an okay response and began packing your things. Afterward, you, Trein with Lucious walked out of the classroom. The two waited for your guardian figure to arrive as a few students walked by. 

“(y/n)!” 

You both glance to the side to see Crewel walking toward the two of you. You beamed out a wide smile, spread your arms out, and ran up to him. 

“Papa!” 

Crewel lifted you in the air as you laughed in joy. 

“My pup! Did you behave well?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded, “I was coloring my coloring book while I listened to grandpa Trein. But I got sleepy, and I went to sleep.” 

The man who lifted you cradled you in his arms, humming in response. 

“Very well then. Thank you, Trein, for taking care of them.” 

“It was no problem,” Trein smiled, “It was like watching over my grandchildren. Observing (y/n) reminds me of them. Don’t you agree, Lucious?” 

The cat meowed in agreement. Both adults bid farewell and parted both ways. Crewel takes you to Mr. S’s mystery shop. For being such a good pup today, he decided to buy you a snack. The two of you walked inside the building. 

“Welcome to Mr. S’s mystery shop!” greeted Sam. 

You ran up to Sam, “Hi Mister Sam!” 

“Hello there, my little demon!” Sam patted your head. “Ah, and hello to you too, Divus. What can I do for the both of you?” 

“Hello, Sam. Me and my pup want to get some snacks before we head home.” 

“I have many kinds of snacks, all of them. In fact, they’re all in stock! Now, what will that be, my little demon?” 

You looked at Sam, then Crewel, not knowing what to get. You may have bought some tuna cans for Grim, but you rarely buy yourself some snacks just to save some money. 

“How about you look around the shop and see what you’d like?” suggested Sam. 

Before Crewel could protest, you already ran off. “Pup wait-!”

“Do not worry, my friend. I’m sure they’ll be safe in my friends' hands, ehehe”

 You went from aisle to aisle until you finally found your favorite snack. Unfortunately, it is way up high on the shelf and you’re too small for it to reach. Pouting, you soon tried to grab for it by jumping. 

“Oya? What do we have here?” 

You stopped and looked towards where the voice came from. Standing a few feet away from you is Ruggie, staring at your small figure. He is holding a few items, probably doing errands Leona gave him as usual. 

“Shishishishishi. It looks like the rumors were correct, our little prefect turned even smaller.”  

You only stare at him, making Ruggie sweat drop. 

“hehehe... I'm just gonna go and get the rest of the stuf- OI!” 

You stopped him from leaving by pulling his uniform, startling the hyena. As he turned to you in confusion, you pointed towards one of the shelves. He looked where you pointed to see a bag of snacks you wanted. 

“Ah, so you want me to get that for ya?” 

You only nodded. Ruggie chuckled, grabbed the treat, and handed it to you. But before you could grab it, Ruggie lifted high where you couldn’t reach. 

“But what am I getting from this? Hmm?” He teased. 

You extended your arms and tried to grab the bag, but Ruggie kept teasing you. The hyena chuckled, amused by your attempts. Until he heard sniffling. He stopped and panicked once he saw your teary eyes. He could feel his surroundings cold with eyes glaring at his back. 

“Okay okay! Here ya go! Jeez, I was just joking!” 

At last, he finally gave you the snack. You held it up high like it was given to you by God. The hyena let out an air of relief, feeling the cold aura gone. The two heard Crewel shout across the store. 

“Pup! Have you found something yet?” 

You gasp and are about to run out of the aisle. But you stopped, turned around, and ran towards Ruggie, tackling his leg. 

“Thank you, Ruggie-Sempai!” 

You quickly let go and left, leaving the hyena with his face flushing in pink and his hand rubbing his back neck. You ran towards the two male adults and handed your treat. Sam took the snack. 

“Are you sure that’s the one you want?” asked Crewel. 

You nodded, “Yes papa!” 

You hopped in excitement as Crewel handed Sam the madols to pay. The shadow man gave the paid snack to you. 

“Thank you, Mister Sam!” You chirped. 

“No, thank YOU! It is a pleasure doing business with you!” grinned Sam. 

“Come on now, pup,” Crewel called, “Let’s get going.” 

You grabbed Crewel’s hand and waved at Sam, “Bye-bye!” 

“See you tomorrow, my little demon!” 

You and Crewel walked out of the shop with your favorite snack in hand. You opened the bag of treats and began feasting them. You showed your guardian the open bag, signaling him to take some. 

“It’s alright pup, I’m not hungry.” 

You turned your head to the side, “Are you sure?” 

He patted your head, “Yes I’m sure, it is yours to eat.” 

Crewel quickly took you out of school to avoid Crowley along the way. The two are now making way inside Crewel’s house, greeted by two tall dalmatians. You giggled as they pounced at you, giving you kisses. 

“Hello Pongo! Hello Perdita!” You giggled. The two dogs barked happily. 

“Okay, dogs, that’s enough.” Crewel ordered, “Sit!” 

The two dogs stopped and sat as they were told. You and Crewel spend most of your time together, watching television, cooking dinner, and playing dress-ups. He also gave you a lovely bath and tucked you in bed. 

On the next day, the second years walked outside to the field with their magic brooms. They all waited and began conversations as they waited for their instructor. The sound of a whistle was heard across them. 

“Magic starts with muscles!” 

Vargas jumped in front of the group of students and struck a pose. Some students groaned as others smiled in excitement. 

“Muscles!” 

The students jump at the sight of you riding on his shoulder with a huge smile.

“Is that, the prefect of the Ramshackle dorm?” “I’ve seen them yesterday inside Trein’s class.” “Awww! They look so tiny!” “Kawaii!”  

“Um, Coach Vargas,” Riddle called, “What is (y/n) doing here with us?” 

“Yeah. From what I heard yesterday, aren’t they supposed to be Crewel?” Kalim followed.  

“You see, fellow bean sprouts, Crewel made a deal to pass (y/n) to us staffs one by one. And today, I get to be the one to take care of them until later! And do now worry, I will be taking good care of them and show them every way to get these muscles!”  

Vargas did another muscular pose as you let out a giggle. “Ahem- But for now, we need to focus on class. I want everyone to get on to your broom and loop around the field 20 times.” 

Few students groaned; others remained silent. They began doing as they were told to do. In the middle of class, you grew bored watching them flying. You let out a frown and pat his head. 

“What’s wrong, little sprout?” 

“I’m bored. I wanna get down.” 

He laughed. “Okay okay, I’ll get you out.” 

Vargas lifted you from his shoulder and placed you down on the ground. You then ran around the grass. 

“Don’t go too far and out of my sight!” 

A few moments later, Crowley barges into the field and strolls toward the muscled coach. 

“Crowley, what brings you here?” Vargas questioned. 

“Well, I have nothing much to do, and I also want to see my little hatchling!” 

“Your... little hatchling?” 

“Why, (y/n) of course!” 

Crowley looked to the side to see your little figure on the grass, playing with dandelions. 

“Ah, and they’re right there! My little hatchling!” 

You look to the side to see the crow man walking towards you. “Hi Mister Crowley! What are you doing here?” 

Crowley let out a gasp, “My, why do you people ask like you don’t want me here?” He let out a fake tear from his eye and pulled you up. “I just want to see how my precious child is! For I am gracious!” 

You tilted your head from his words. “Um... your precious child? But-” 

“(y/n)! I almost forgot,” Vargas called. He handed you a black and white fur coat that is your size. “Here’s the coat Crewel left for you. It’s pretty chilly out here and we don’t want you to catch a cold.” 

You smiled and took the fur coat, “Thank you, Uncle Vargas!” 

As you wore the coat, Vargas looked at Crowley, “And you, please don’t bother the kid. They’re doing fine without you.” 

The masked man scoffed and carried you up. “How about you? Don’t you have a class to teach?” 

“As you can see, the students are training on their brooms and testing their skills and speed. They have also experienced thanks to me, and I’m sure they’ll be fine. And how about YOU? Are you sure you don’t have anything else to do? Or you’re just ignoring them and trying to use (y/n) as an excuse?” 

Crowley let out a dramatic gasp and dropped you. “Oh, that is absurd! I would never do such a thing!” 

As the two adults began fighting, you pouted in pain from being dropped. You look to the side to see the magic broom lying on the bench. Curiosity grew to you, and you sneakily crawled your way into it. 

“I’m sorry, I cannot let you take care of (y/n) while you’re in charge of a class.” 

“In case you forgot, Trein and Crewel managed to watch them yesterday while lecturing.” 

“Well, that is because they are inside their classroom. It is more dangerous to bring (y/n) out here where they can get lost easily. What if they get hurt!?” 

“Mister Crowley! Uncle Vargas! Look! I’m flying!” 

“Yes yes, that is wonderful, dear- WAIT WHAT!?” 

The two halt their bickering and darted to their side to see you floating on the broom above their height. Panic washed through them. 

“(y/n), bean sprout, please get down from the broom. It’s too dangerous.” Vargas yelled. 

“But it looks fun! Everyone else is flying.” 

“I know kiddo. That is because they are experienced and were taught by me. How about you slowly get down here so I can teach you safely?” 

“I could but... I don’t know how to get down- WOAH!” 

The broom suddenly drove forward quickly and then stopped. It repeated once more but in reverse. The two men yelled your name as you zoomed upwards and towards the sky. 

“Shit,” cursed Vargas. “Dire! Do something, will you!?” 

“ME!? Why do I always have to do everything around here?” 

Vargas only gave Crowley a displeased look and silently growled.

😶

[pantoneyoongi]

09 || flashing neon lights

series ; in love with love (with you)  description ; you’re a romantic. jungkook? jungkook is not. 

chapter 09 ; flashing neon lights  prev || final

word count ; 2.1k

tags ; did i say this was gonna be the last chapter? yea i lied my bad, admittedly i did try to make this the last chapter but it was getting a bit long so instead we get two shorter chapters instead, anyway, idiots with feelings, fluff, pls go to main masterlist for more / general tags 

it’s not a crush. you refuse to call it a crush. 

but goddammit, jisoo was right. 

whatever the case is, if you’re being honest - it’s just a bit hard for you to grasp onto the fact that of all people your heart could stutter and stumble over - it’s jungkook. the idea that maybe it’s been jungkook all along is dizzying. unfathomable. 

but if you’re being honest - it makes sense. it makes a little too much sense, and that’s the problem. he pisses you off so often, maybe that’s why you took for granted all his gentle kindness. the soft gestures interlaid between the way he scoffs at the dreamy look you always get in your eyes when you’re thinking about your future prince charming. he calls every movie you watch unrealistic but still sits through all of them with you. knows all your favorite lines from all your favorite dramas - probably knows most of the script, actually, judging from the number of times you’ve caught him mouthing them before. granted, he’s usually rolling his eyes at the same time, but he still knows them all by heart - you know this because he’s also recited them back to you with arched eyebrows and an annoying tilt to his head to show you he thinks you’re ridiculous. 

but who else has your favorite snacks stocked in his apartment at all times? who else knows exactly how to cheer you up whenever someone else lays wreckage to your jumbled mess of heightened feelings? who else can promise you without so much as saying words, that he has your back from now till forever - and you’ll believe him, even when you pretend you don’t? 

no wonder jisoo is always pushing the two of you together. there’s nobody who has ever cared for you the way jungkook does. 

but what are you supposed to do with this information? you’re fairly certain jungkook will literally laugh in your face if you so much as hint at wanting him - even you want to laugh at yourself, because - jungkook? really? jungkook? is this the universe’s idea of a joke? 

you don’t know how to face him. you’ve always been open with your feelings - your happiness is obvious; your sadness, too. the only thing you’ve ever been able to control is your temper, but when it comes to jungkook, none of your emotions are reeled in. they’ve always been on full display because jungkook is the only person who has accepted them as they are. 

you throw your face into your pillow and scream. this is terrible. you have feelings (since when has the word made you tense like this?) for a man who proudly totes around his fuckboy certification yet has taken to spending his weekends watching you play animal crossing on his consoles. is he even really fuckboy certified anymore? you can’t remember the last time jungkook ducked out with a crooked grin guaranteeing another notch in his bedpost. 

rolling over, you stare up at your bedroom ceiling. you don’t want to avoid him. but you’re not sure how well you’ll hold out sitting in his apartment, playing his games, wearing his clothes, now that it’s dawned on you how, precisely, you feel about jungkook. 

you wish even a part of you was scared of his reaction. but truthfully, you’re not. you know him, and you know at worst you’ll make things a little awkward, then jungkook will weasel his way back into your life as though not a thing has changed. he’d let you down easy - even if he might use all the wrong words at first. 

there’s nothing you risk losing. not even your pride. 

your phone buzzes on your nightstand, and you rummage for it, not even bothering to tilt your head to look while your hand pats around the table. you grab it and hold it over your head, reading the incoming message. 

[1:27pm] jungkook 🙄🚫: how do u feel about kirby 

your eyebrows arch upwards. 

[1:28pm] princess lmao: super cute

[1:28pm] princess lmao: kinda reminds me of you

maybe you should think twice before you message him. you’ve never thought twice about the messages you send him - why would you? you have a decade’s friendship backing you, and jungkook has no qualms finding a way to tease you regardless of how carefully you lay out your words, anyway. you don’t even worry about what you’ve sent him until you see his response, expression flattening. 

[1:29pm] jungkook 🙄🚫: because i’m cute? i’m flattered 😌

[1:30pm] princess lmao: because you both inhale everything in fucking sight 😐

[1:30pm] jungkook 🙄🚫: just say i’m adorable and go ❤️

[1:31pm] princess lmao: ok, bye

[1:31pm] jungkook 🙄🚫: no come overr 

[1:31pm] jungkook 🙄🚫: i wanna show you the kirby games 

you suck your teeth. it’s annoying how your heart is begrudgingly pleased by his playfulness, and also by his surprisingly endless list of adorable games. you’ve definitely seen the stack of shooter/fighter games in his cabinets and yet he never fails to pull out yet another y/n-friendly one to add to the list. 

the invite itself is tempting. but you don’t know how you’ll resist looking at him with hearts in your eyes when you wind up in his clothes again, smelling like clean laundry and jungkook. 

your heart is pounding. it’s done that plenty of times before, for crushes who weren’t jungkook. but this is jungkook, and it’s new, and it’s starting to catch up to you now that the prospect of being in front of him is offered to you. you thought it’d be fine. 

what if it’s not? 

.

.

.

[1:39pm] princess lmao: too lazy. another day 

here’s the thing about jungkook: he is very good at jumping to conclusions. 

for someone who is impressively nonchalant about most things in life - he’s heard more than once that he “must think life is a big joke” from petty hookups who don’t quite know him like his friends do - jungkook is incredibly, extraordinarily good at skipping about five steps and determining things that are usually not true. 

like now. you don’t want to come over. you always come over. you love being in the company of people, even if it’s him and his maddening commentary throughout all your shows. between your vacation hours and the fact that you live two blocks away, jungkook has gotten used to you sitting on his living room floor, wearing his clothes, playing video games and watching shows and arguing with him about mint chocolate chip ice cream. 

so he jumps. takes a massive flying leap and thinks - maybe it’s finally fully hit you that yoongi has a girlfriend that you’ll be seeing in under a week’s time at the gala? what if you’re miserable and back in hibernation? should he show up at your doorstep with hot chocolate and gummy bears in tow? 

he slumps so far on the cushions of his couch that gravity tugs his body full off the couch, leaving him on the floor, staring up at his ceiling. now what? 

he really wants you at his doorstep. bright, warm eyes, cheeks that get all round when you smile. he wants to see that adorable scowl of yours when he says something you’ve deemed offensive, wants to feel your hand smacking into his arm when he’s suggesting something particularly egregious. wants to grab your wrist when you’re trying to shove him and pull you in close, closer than you’ve ever been before, watch those pretty eyes widen, eyelashes flutter when he leans in. 

will you run? have you caught onto his ridiculous feelings, are you running right now? is this your way of showing him you know that renouncer-of-all-things-love jeon jungkook has fallen for, of all people, the biggest damn romantic he knows? 

he groans, kicking his feet and running both hands through his hair. he feels so destabilized without you by his side. he’s so good at reading you when you’re around. but you’re out of his sight right now, out of his reach - and with the lines so blurry, he suddenly doesn’t remember how to predict you. 

he sits straight up. fuck this. he’s jeon jungkook. jeon jungkook does not mope around because of a girl. 

. 

.

.

“you’re joking, right?” 

jungkook drops his head to taehyung’s kitchen table. jimin is trying very little (read: not even in the slightest) to hide his snickers, while taehyung stares at jungkook with a disbelieving look, mouth slightly open. 

jungkook whips his head back up. “this is stupid. this is the dumbest thing i’ve ever done in my life.” 

“falling for y/n is actually the smartest thing you’ve ever done in your life,” taehyung corrects. “i’m surprised it took you this long to figure it out.” 

“i meant coming to you guys for advice.” 

taehyung flicks him on the forehead. 

jungkook rubs the sore spot, huffing. jimin pats his shoulder comfortingly. “it’s alright, kook. feelings are scary to face sometimes.” 

jungkook, personally, is allergic to the word ‘feelings,’ but if it’s you, he’s hard-pressed not to admit to them now that they’ve presented themselves in flashing neon lights. he sighs heavily, lower lip jutting out in a small pout. honestly, he just wants to be curled up at your side right now, challenging you on glazed vs frosted donuts and letting the conversation devolve into him convincing you to let him drag you out and buy a questionably large quantity of donuts that no two people should reasonably be able to finish were it not for his bottomless pit of a stomach. 

taehyung scoffs at the longing look on jungkook’s face. “just go to her place,” he nags. “why are you sitting here moping around mine?” 

jungkook crosses his arms, gnawing on his lower lip. “should i?” 

“she said she was too lazy to come over, not that she didn’t want you around,” jimin points out. “maybe you should go to her sometimes instead of the other way around.” 

jungkook decides not to point out that he’s usually the one who goes to you, mostly because he can’t help but gravitate towards you, now that he thinks about it. it’s only recently that you’ve been coming to him. 

“just go,” taehyung hauls jungkook to his feet with a lopsided grin. “i know you want to. it’s not like she’s gonna close the door on your face.”

he blinks. that wasn’t a possibility he considered. technically you’re not entirely against slamming doors in jungkook’s face, so now taehyung has to actively shove him towards the door, jungkook clumsily putting his shoes on with taehyung badgering him. 

“alright, alright,” jungkook scrunches his nose. “i’m going. jeez, it’s like you’re trying to kick me out.” 

“i’m trying to speed up a process that should’ve completed roughly four to six years ago,” taehyung mutters, but his voice fades away when jungkook opens the door, surprise coloring every person’s face. 

including yours. 

you hover in the doorway, staring blankly at jungkook. jungkook still has a hand on the door, lips parted in an ‘o’ before his eyebrows furrow and he stares at you accusingly. “you said you were too lazy to come over!” 

“i was!” you argue back, his voice prompting you back into action as you slip past him and into taehyung’s place. you flounder for an appropriate explanation. “taehyung and jimin are only in town for a little bit. it’s different.” 

“you didn’t mention you were coming over,” taehyung takes your coat while jungkook kicks his shoes off again, closing the front door. you glance back at him sheepishly. 

“it wasn’t really planned. i just kind of ended up here.” 

your eyes flicker to jungkook. he’s eyeing you with the smallest of pouts, still upset that you wandered over to taehyung’s place when you’d told him you weren’t going to his. in your defense, you genuinely hadn’t been sure if you could face him. but now that you’ve wound up in the same room again, not much feels different. you’ve bickered on sight of each other just like you always do. 

“are you pouting?” you tease him, and without thinking, reach up to poke your finger against his puffed out cheek. he grabs your wrist then snaps his teeth together when he pretends to bite your hand. “jungkook!” you shriek, grossed out that he might drool on you, and he smirks, letting you tug yourself out of his grip. 

“we’re even now,” he says simply, and you roll your tongue against your inner cheek, eyes following him even as he walks away. 

with a slow inhale, you realize, you really can’t avoid him. 

some way or another, you always find each other.

prev || final || series masterlist

taglist ; @ahundredtimesover @nadzzzblog @apollukee @codeinebelle @yoongimentita7 @libra04 

[youarejesting]

Sly like a… ? Part 8

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 2.2k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

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With Yoongi hauled up in his room, you began speaking with each of the boys and discussing where their learning levels were, you started with Jungkook, Taehyung, and Hoseok, you sat them at the table and started to teach them the basics of the Korean language and Maths they were quick to learn as they weren’t children and by the end of the week, you had them at a mid highschool level.

You taught all of the Hybrids about internet and phone safety, not giving out their number to random people they didn’t know. They all agreed and after a long discussion on scammers and voice phishing, they all seemed to understand.

Learning how to use computer documents and the internet and more, you explained virus’ and online shopping and you explained that you wanted them to have free reign. So, if they had something they wanted to buy to go to you.

“Unless it is something you are not comfortable asking from Y/n then please feel free to ask me instead.” Jimin said, “I can also get you things you might want or need?”

“Okay, now onto the final topic of today is finding a degree, you don’t have to choose exactly what you want to do with your life right now,” You stressed, hoping they knew they had plenty of time to explore their options. “but, maybe think about jobs you might have seen in movies or read about or heard about and I will help you achieve that dream”

You placed down a few booklets of jobs and they looked at you, “Yoongi you are already halfway through your degree and you said you wished to continue it, so you start next week, please let me know if there is anything you need.”

“And afterward if you ever need a job, if this program gets approved, I will need someone like you in my team.” You smiled, ever since the outing to the shop, Yoongi has been quite cold towards you and it hurt but you knew he would understand soon.

Namjoon told you he wanted to be a businessman, you signed him up for a bachelor of commerce and he was speeding through the classes like they were a children's book. But though he knew everything he didn’t exactly understand the point of the essays and assignments.

You talked him through it and explained that they wanted him to show off what he learned so they knew he was smart enough to pass, he still had three more weeks before school started and you were worried he would have already finished all the essays and assignments.

You heard Taehyung saying he wanted to be an actor or maybe a photographer and you wanted his dreams to come true. “if you finish an acting course, maybe Jimin and I can put in good words in some agencies?”

That got you thinking where was the calico, he hadn’t left the house, maybe he was in his room listening to music or something. Your focus was taken up by the two young men in front of you both flicking through the booklets of perspective courses and careers.

“Ooh directing would be fun?” Jungkook pretended to film Taehyung who immediately started acting out a rather elaborate scene worthy of any K-drama, the two laughing at the silly monologue, “or maybe gaming?”

The cheeky grin on Jungkook's face made your heart flutter. He was almost twenty-four, his birthday nearing and if you remembered correctly so was Namjoon’s. They were all classified as adults but were they ever given the chance to just be giggly, playful boys?

It was almost dinner, you stood up and as you walked past the two hybrids you ran your fingers through their hair. Leaning between them, you held their shoulders.

“I will be back, keep thinking and mark any pages with these sticky notes, purple for Kookie and green for TaeTae,” it was strange but both young men turned their head into your neck and nuzzled you for a second a low purr from the feline and a rhythmic wag of the tail from the canine. You went to leave, your heart stuttering at their affection before anything awkward happened.

“Y/n smells nice, doesn’t she?” Taehyung’s voice was low and Jungkook’s answering purr left you feeling a little warm under the collar. The ghosts of their tiny breaths against your neck would not leave you, the skiing tingling under your touch.

Shaking your head trying to clear it of anything that could be deemed impure and strolling the hall until you reached Yoongi’s door. Knocking softly the door opened to reveal Jimin smiling.

“Hello love,” Jimin flashed the dangerous eye smile and you wondered if the boys were nearing their ruts, that would be a conversation after dinner. Yoongi was sitting on the bed looking at the unopened box of headphones, phone, and laptop.

“Am I interrupting something, I can come back later?” you rambled, gesturing down the hall, “I was just wanting to see where everyone was as I was thinking about starting dinner.”

“Yoongi and I were just talking, but I think we have both come to a comfortable conclusion of topics.” He smiled patting the older feline's shoulder, “Thanks for the talk, it's nice to finally have some brothers.”

“Yoongi, I-”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi interrupted you and his cheeks were dusted pink, he didn’t look up from the bed where all the devices sat. His tail curled around onto his lap and his ears twitched listening intently for your reaction. “Jimin said you weren’t like that and you really just wanted to get us nice things,”

He opened the special hybrid headphones and grinned as they sat on his head like a headband and cupped his ears gently, you opened his phone and found his favorite song hoping to test the headphones.

“Tell me if they work okay, or if they need charge,” standing in front of him you turned the headphones on and attempted to Bluetooth them to the phone. Making sure to turn the volume down before playing the song. His eyes lit up and his tail gave a long elegant swish, he looked so cute and you had to suppress a laugh at how his hair was all bunched up in the headband.

You moved a little closer still and began running your fingers through his hair until it fell over the headband, Yoongi tensed and surprised you by clutching the hem of your overall shorts and nuzzled his face into your stomach, his neck bright red. You froze and gently finished with his hair and stepped back and smiled pausing the song.

“I fixed your hair, cause it was all caught in your headphones,” you explained and he looked down growing almost impossibly red. You reached out and carded your fingers through his hair affectionately. In a gesture that had often calmed Jimin as a child, you rubbed your bare wrist against his neck.

A purr almost ripped through Yoongi as his tail swished dangerously. You stepped away heading for the door, “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to help me make dinner?”

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[nanamismoonchild]

chapter 4-self-care

pairing: god!namjoon x goddess!reader

genre: fluff, angst, smut

warnings: masturbation, biting, mention of blood, breast play, fingering, namjoon is crushing-kind of a simp, obsession if you squint, 

wc: ~2.0k

a/n: for my first smut scene, i say i did pretty damned good. thank you to @missgeniality​ for helping a girl out!  AND BEFORE I FORGET, i have changed the pronouns from “you” to “she/her” i like it better that way. i will be changing the other chapters soon! Also! if you see “___” that is for reader insert. it’s gonna be sort of like it’s one of the many names that persephone has if that makes sense!

prev./next

tags: @kawennote09​  @ggukkieland​​ (you didnt ask to be tag..i think...but you’ve left the kindest comments about it) 

She blinked once and glanced around the room. The tired eyes of the servants stared straight at her, or perhaps through her. She wasn’t too sure. What she did know was that they knew who she was. 

Seokjin, the Blue Man whom she had helped cross the Styx, couldn’t announce what she had heard. Perhaps her hearing was damaged from being in the river for too long earlier. Or perhaps the fire was blazing too loud. Surely, he had not repaid her kindness by bringing her to the one place her mother had always warned her about.  The daughter of Demeter always bragged that she would never be one of the many women of the Greek world to fall into a man’s trap. Especially not one that claimed to love her even though he had never seen her face. 

Namjoon’s speaking interrupted her thoughts. “Well. Welcome to my humble abode Kim Seokjin. You will find your eternal stay here one of the greatest fortunes you’ve ever had. The servant, Mila, will show you around, but then I would like for you to help me with our... honored guest.”

The guest of honor was not fond of the tone the underworld god was using. 

“The only help I will need is a direction home. I am sure the God of all things underground would not like to feel the wrath of Demeter,” she said with indignation. “You are naked and shivering. I would not like to send you back without properly taking care of you,” Namjoon snapped. 

He had a point that she did not want to admit. Her nipples were hard and erect and her lower regions were for all to see. It didn’t bother her , considering she had willingly gone into a public river bare ass to the world. The fire had done nothing to warm her, and she knew her mother would have many questions as to why she was coming through her door with her womanly nature for all to see. 

“The servant’s earlier statement contradicts what you say. The only woman he has brought to you is I. And I do not wish to be desired by you.” At least without a chase. 

The god stepped towards her until he stood inches from her face. His lips were close enough to bite.  Taking her chin between his index finger and thumb and forcing her to look into his eyes (she would have anyway, she never let herself submit) before he leaned to whisper into her ear quite threateningly.

“You will.”

Persephone hmphed and smirked. 

“We’ll see.”

She bit the god’s lips, drawing ichor before placing a rough kiss onto his bloodied pout.  Namjoon jumped back in surprise and touched a finger to his lips.  The honey coloured blood covered his hand and dripped to the floor. A mess for the servants to clean.  

The goddess smiled and let out a small giggle. 

“I guess you are correct. I cannot go home without my mother worrying about a future illness because I came home cold and wet. And I am too tired to begin a journey home.  Prepare a room and clothing for me, and I will leave tomorrow evening.”

“Tomorrow evening?” Namjoon asked. 

“Yes. I remembered that I still have something to talk to you about. However, I do not want to talk about it right now nor do I want to talk about it as soon as I wake and eat breakfast. We’ll discuss it in the afternoon while I dine on lunch.”

The confusion etched into Namjoon’s face was enough to make Persephone giggle more.  He was in for a treat. 

She turned towards the servant nearest her. A frail woman who must have been beautiful when she was alive. The eternal servitude had weakened her. She would make the perfect personal servant to Persephone. 

“You. What’s your name?”

“Park HyoJin, uh, my, uh,” she choked on the title--not quite knowing how to address the authoritative woman in front of her. 

Rolling her eyes, Persephone finished for her. “You may call me “___” until I leave. I’m sure your King wouldn’t mind sharing his power.”

“Yes, ___. How may I assist you?”

“Lead me to a room. One that is already prepared. I want to take a hot bath and put on a warm robe. I am sick of shivering here in my natural state. Then I want to rest and no one is to bother me. Understand, HyoJin?”

“Yes, ___.” 

“Then let us be on our way. “

Namjoon watched her backside as she swayed out of the grand hall and into the hallways of the castle. He knew what room the servant would be taking her to. Of course, he had known the goddess was arriving in the first place. Seokjin and he had made a plan to escort her here. It mostly consisted of Seokjin dying and wandering around the forest where Namjoon knew she frequented. 

The rest would be improvised by Seokjin. Namjoon took a mental note to ask the older man how he managed to lead the confident woman into the castle.  He knew Jungkook had a part in it.   He had watched from his chambers that saw the shores of the River Styx. He watched with amusement as she abused his loyal friend into a ride on the boat. Namjoon wouldn’t hear the end of it. 

He still had no idea what she wanted to confide in him about. That was a mystery he would have to solve in the afternoon. There was also the trouble of ___, as she wanted to be called, leaving in the evening. He would have to figure out how to get her  to stay. 

A problem for tomorrow. 

Persephone had HyoJin draw a bath for her.  Her skin was starting to prune, but the heat of the water would soothe her shivering. The servant had recommended putting milk and lavender which Persephone agreed to. 

The room she was in was already prepared.  In the middle of the room was a king-sized bed that had been pushed up against the wall. Sheer pink canopy curtains draped around the bed creating a look of sultry. The sheets on the bed felt like Olympus on the skin--she almost hadn’t wanted to get back up but the chance to get any grime off of her was too great. Lanterns were fitted into the velvet walls casting a reddish hue in the room. A fire had been started but, like the fire in the grand room, it did nothing to heat the room. Maybe it was only there to add ambiance. 

“___, your bath is ready. There is a robe and towels next to the sink. I will be here if you need help.”

Persephone smiled and made her way into the bathroom. The steam from the hot water caused the mirrors to fog, leaving her unable to see herself. She wasn’t a vain person, but there was a tiny part of her that hoped she hadn’t been too unruly as a first impression. Not that she wanted to impress Namjoon or any of the servants. 

She dipped a toe into the hot bath and let out a soft gasp. Dipping herself down into the water completely, she could feel the day’s journey melt away.  The lavender and milk in the bath relaxed her weary bones--the servant had said that it would exfoliate or something of the sort. She hadn’t paid attention. Or cared. 

She wondered how long she had been away from home. Persephone had no idea what time it was but the journey had to have taken a few hours. Maybe it was dawn?   Surely her mother was running rampant through the village looking for her. Or had the forest told Demeter already?   The clothing that she left on the side of the riverbank would have been found and delivered back to her cottage. Demeter would assume so many things that Persephone was almost afraid to go back to the surface herself.  The daughter of the goddess of agriculture was fearful of one thing-her mother. 

Persephone sighed and sunk her shoulders into the water. She wished she could show her mother just how she could intimidate men. It wasn’t on purpose, of course. She had merely learned that her beauty would lead the most supercilious men to her feet. She was still a virgin. No one had managed to impress her, so she stuck with going to bed lonely and pleasing herself. Aphrodite had told her when her mother had her over for tea that self-pleasure is the best self-care. 

Her hands reached up from where they had been lazily sitting and squeezed her breasts. Taking a nipple between her index and thumb, she mindlessly kneaded her still hard nipples and let out a soft moan. Her thighs pressed together as her core clenched around nothing. One hand slipped down to give her pussy attention while the other continued to pinch and squeeze her sensitive breasts. She took one nipple into her mouth and sucked as she circled her clit in quick motions, hurrying to her edge.  It wasn’t enough. She moved the hand that had been busy with her breast down to her opening. Slipping two fingers in, she pumped herself full, instantly finding the spot that made her whine loudly. Her orgasm was approaching. White spots started to appear in her vision and her moans were turning into breathy gasps. Her entire body was heated. 

“___, are you alright?” HyoJin had burst through the door after hearing Persephone moaning. 

Her orgasm rushed through her--a disorienting bliss that left her thighs shaking and breath coming out in large gulps.  Persephone was no longer in her own mind.. 

When her body finally came down from its high, she bathed herself quickly. The servant, who had blushed, had to help her out, as Persephone’s legs were still shaking and she almost fell.  HyoJin led her to the bed where the blissed out woman immediately fell asleep. 

HyoJin quietly left the door and closed the door. She made her way to the King’s chambers which was only a few doors down. She knocked, hoping that Namjoon wasn’t already in bed. If the frail woman didn’t tell him that she had accidentally rushed in on ___, there would be hell to pay. 

“Come in.”

HyoJin opened the door, finding the King in his bed, reading a novel that one of the servants who had been an author, had given him. She didn’t know how to read so the name of the book went over her head. 

“My King. I, uh, I found __ in a compromising, uh, way, I didn’t mean to. I thought something was wrong and burst in too quickly,” she stammered. Being near the powerful man was enough to make any of them scared. 

“Compromising?” Namjoon frowned and laid his book next to him. 

“I accidentally walked in while she was pleasuring herself.” HyoJin had expected Namjoon to yell at her and punish her. The reaction she got was quite different. 

Namjoon sighed and put a hand to his face. “I can’t believe I missed it.” HyoJin was confused. 

“Is she still doing it?”

“No, I-I think she’s asleep. She had, uh, finished a few seconds after I burst in.”

He sighed louder like he was in pain. If he had wanted to watch her, he could have simply put her in the same room as him. All of the servants knew of his crush on the goddess. Everyone knew he could have forced her to sleep in his chambers. 

“I will have to place eyes and ears there. I will not miss it again.”

“But sire, she plans to leave in the evening.”

“I will take care of that. Please have breakfast waiting for her as soon as she wakes. Inform Seokjin that he is to shadow you tomorrow. You are both her personal servants. If she complains, send her to me. You’re dismissed.” HyoJin nodded and slid out of the room. She stayed by the door to listen to her King’s moans wishing it were her he was thinking about while he brought himself to orgasm.  

[radiovys]

okk

lets go

goin thru somthn rn brb gonna change my entire layout because it tastes like wet cardboard and i dont like that

[catboy-jaebeom]

this vessel is a shapeshifting lie

hi, I'm Autumn, but you can call me Leaf or Faon as well, my pronouns are they/them, I currently live in central europe, am very queer, and was born in '95. after more than a decade on this hellsite ( affectionate ) — which is btw insane, like?? ten years??? — I think I'm staying for good. and what better way to sorta commemorate this decision than to finally write up an about me that I can pin? nothing, the answer is— [ untintelligiable ]

I've pretty early on decided not to have a sideblog for all of my hundreds of interests. so, on this blog I reblog and post everything I like to reblog or post. at the moment that's mostly kpop, pretty aesthetic stuff, and whichever show has currently caught my interest; I also reblog stuff about old favourites like dragon age, the Craig!Bond movies, marvel and DC stuff, shadowhunters and others. I really like vampires, languages, and I'm a plant parent and future university student, as well as a writer, a witch and fanfiction author. you can follow me on my irregularly updated writing blog @splittergheist ( that's the only sideblog worth noting tho ).

my last tumblr wrapped I think said it's like 90 percent reblogs and 10 percent original posts on here; I'm not really a gif maker or anything of the sort, but I will reblog every single Spirit - Stallion of Cimarron gif set that crosses my dash.

be kind in my inbox or I'll simply delete your ask. I tag all of my posts, but if you ask ( kindly ) I will try to remember tagging specific things! I also copy someone's previous tags sometimes and add 'prev tags' to comment on them or to immortalize them; but I really hate people using only prev tags, I don't think that's practical at all.

underneath the read more you'll find kpop related stuff and a tiny, stupid but lovely thing one of my mutuals wrote. thank you for reading, I hope your day finds you well. <3

@meant-to-be-a-hero was kind and stupid enough to actually write me a character reference for this because he's lovely like that.

How do you sum up Autumn in five lines or less?

The Best kpop teacher, they're the Author Of Everything You Wanted To Know About GOT7 And Some Things You Didn't for a reason - I owe everything I know to them.

Master Of Keyboard Smashes. The nuance, the skill, the variation, impeccable.

They can command conversation like no one else. Do you want to talk about multiple insane, hilarious, amazing things in quick succession? Then they're your person.

Basically, Autumn is 10/10, highly recommended. Is that five lines? Who knows, I wrote this in Notepad.

—Lem, who 1000% knows what he's talking about.

and now, for the kpop people reading this, an abbreviated list of the groups I like and stan, and my biases and wreckers.

if you've come here from twitter, please don't try and start a fight over multistanning / solostanning, or over voting and streaming. this is tumblr, not twitter, and we don't do that here. you can find me on twitter @ ahgasevenbirds.

ult group: GOT7 ( post-Encore / GOT7 era )

other groups & solo artists I like: NCT, G-IDLE, Kim Junsu aka XIA, ITZY, ATEEZ, Wonho & Monsta X, ONEUS, SHINee, SVT, MOMOLAND, MAMAMOO, EXO, KARD,...

biases: Jay B, Youngjae - GOT7; Yuta, Xiaojun, Renjun - NCT; Seonghwa, Yunho - ATEEZ; Leedo, Keonhee - ONEUS; Taemin, Minho - SHINee; Joshua - SVT; Nancy - MOMOLAND; Sehun, Yixing - EXO

wreckers: Mark, Yugyeom - GOT7; Ten, Johnny - NCT; Yeosang - ATEEZ; Seoho - ONEUS; Mingyu - SVT; Kai - EXO