#always the hiccup ? always. different. in the worst way. even when it's done so much good ? EVEN STILL

[a-hazbin-reader]

How do you think Alastor would react to being called cute, hot etc.along those lines

Like how would it make him feel? Pre-Wifey. Like it’s Wifey, but she ain’t wifey yet lol

Wifey rizzing up her man??? 👀

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being TORTURED, Reader has that WIFE energy, Alastor thinks about killing someone

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor was a confident man who prided himself on not being taken unawares by anything or anyone

The keyword is was

But meeting you and getting to know you has completely caught him off guard because he's FALLING for you

He knew you were a dangerous woman, but he didn't realize just what sort of danger he was in

In danger of losing his HEART~

He couldn't help it, you were beautiful and witty along with a number of other fantastic qualities/talents

And when you smiled at him it made him freeze in his tracks, even the simplest eye contact made him feel flushed

But then you opened your mouth and actually spoke to him which made things so much more difficult

"You look good today, Alastor~ Did you do something different? Very debonair~"

He wonders if you're torturing him like this on purpose, if you know how he feels about you

But he does his best to remain unfazed, or at least not let you see how your words affect him

"I can't say I've done anything new, but I appreciate that someone around here notices my good looks~"

Your soft laugh makes his heart skip a beat, and he almost blushes when your fingers play with the ends of his hair

"I always notice you, Alastor."

He's at least able to wait until you leave the room to suddenly collapse on a table, steam coming out of his ears as he clutches at his chest

He would be insanely jealous if you acted this way with anyone else but you seem to reserve it all for him, something he's secretly grateful for

Even when you're drunk, you always seem to find a way to make him fluster

Alastor finds you at the bar, cheeks pink from the alcohol in your system, talking to the bartender about something

Or someone

"-he's just so handsome..! I can't get over it-"

Alastor takes a seat next to you, cutting off some random guy from taking the seat in hopes of getting an easy mark out of you

"Who's handsome now?"

He's totally not asking because he's jealous, or trying to figure out who he's going to hunt down and ki-

You hiccup and give him a drunken smile, leaning in to get in his face, which immediately makes his heart race

"You are~ Hand...some~"

Alastor can feel the heat rushing up to his face as you poke his nose before clumsily leaning back to get your drink

Okay, you've definitely had enough to drink

"I think you've had enough for tonight, let's get you home, my dear."

You whine and pout as he drags you out of the bar, only complying when he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady

He hopes that you're too drunk to remember the way he blushes the entire way home with you, holding you tight

It doesn't help that you're so snuggly when you're drunk, nuzzling your head under his chin

He almost explodes when he manages to pry you off of him and lay you down on your bed only for you to stare at him with glassy eyes

"Mm...that's hot...you're so hot~"

He rubs his hand over his face in an effort to hide the embarrassing choked sound that escapes him

"Please... just go to sleep..."

He's less sure that you're messing with him when you say things like that while drunk out of your mind

Your worst attacks are the sneak attacks that come out of nowhere for him, making it painfully obvious how much he feels for you

He's eating when you suddenly come in, rolling your eyes as you sit next to him, listening to all the little noises he makes as he eats

He can't help it, the food is delicious~

You suddenly grab a napkin and dab the corner of his mouth, giving him a small smile

"You're cute, you know that?"

He almost chokes on his food, your words along with the physical touch making his mind go blank

"C-cute!?"

Fuck, his voice cracked, making him blush uncontrollably as you obviously try not to laugh at him

"Ahem! Cute is not a proper word to describe me, I am many things, but cute isn't one of them..!"

You take his plate away from him, helping yourself to his meal as he rants about how he's not cute

"Say what you will, but I think you're a very cute man~"

He just groans and lays his head on the table, openly blushing now as he watches you eat

"I'm not... cute..."

You just laugh at him and it makes his heart beat a little faster despite his visible pouting

You're an evil woman who's torturing him for falling for you, trying to make him confess so you can tease him about it

He's sure of it...but it doesn't diminish his growing feelings for you any less

This one was so fun 😭

[skeletwinsauaskbox]

Skeletwins Crying Headcanons

Sans/Lento:

He... doesn't really cry??? Not much anyway.

There's only two instances where he would actually cry in a sad way. The first instance is in the midst of sensory overload. Meltdowns are not fun. He hates it when he starts crying in the middle of one, especially if it's in public. He would always, ALWAYS find a place where he can cry privately. It's okay if it's with Papyrus, though. He doesn't care if Papyrus sees him cry.

The second instance is... you know when you're really gosh darn stressed, and you go into this survival mode like you're trying to ride out history's worst storm, or like the end of the world, and when you make it out the other side, you're filled with so much relief you start crying? It's sort of like that. Being able to cry after the storm is over. It's really cathartic, actually. Again, Sans prefers to cry alone or with Papyrus. He hates crying in front of others.

Other than those two scenarios, Sans doesn't cry. He's generally a really calm person on the outside. He doesn't like letting his emotions take control of him. That doesn't mean he's not emotional sometimes. He definitely, definitely is. When he cares, he cares really deeply. He just doesn't express his emotions by crying, and that's okay.

When he cries, he's almost silent. Small sniffles, tiny whimpers, sobs that sound like hiccups... If you're not looking at him, you can't really tell if he's crying or not. For all you know, he might even be laughing hysterically, since his hysterical laugh sounds similar to his crying. Not that he would let you look at him while he's crying. He'd likely book it outta there before you even get close to him. I think you get the point. It's more noticeable when he's having a meltdown, but him crying would be the least of your concerns. You'd probably be more focused on him scratching his skull like a feral cat, to put it bluntly.

Once he's done crying, you wouldn't be able to tell he even was crying in the first place. No skin means no puffy eyes, no red face, no nothing. Like... back to normal, I suppose! It's almost scary how easily he snaps out of it.

Oh yeah, there is one more instance where he would cry. Happy tears. Like when he's full of pride or just gotten an extremely thoughtful gift or when he feels truly loved. It's rare, but it's adorably touching when it does happen. Though his happy tears are quite different to his sad tears. By that, I mean he'll blub like a baby when he's like that. It's hilarious, but embarrassing.

Papyrus/Presto:

It's relatively easy to make him cry. Usually it's in an exaggerated, overly dramatic way, but Papyrus is incredibly emotional and small triggers can make him cry when he's in the right mood.

He cries during movies, he cries when he steps on a bug, he cries when someone gets a wonderful gift for him, he cries when the dog knocks over his spaghetti... Sometimes you have to wonder, is this dude okay?

Luckily, Papyrus is generally a very happy, confident person and he doesn't let insults affect him. It's only minor things that get the waterworks going, which is both hilarious and worrying. Sans is used to it, though.

Believe it or not, he was even MORE of an emotional crybaby as a kid. If he wasn't the first kid to cry about any little thing, he definitely cried when another kid started crying. That's just how he was.

Nowadays, he doesn't do it that much anymore. Apart from when it's Sans. When Sans cries, Papyrus cries. And then they feed into each other's tears because Sans gets more upset than Papyrus is crying and Papyrus gets more upset that Sans is crying more and it's all a big mess OH GOD SOMEONE HELP THEM-

Papyrus' tears are a mess. You know that googly-eyed crying sprite? Imagine that but more, if that makes sense. Waterfalls of tears, tears not only spraying out of his eye sockets, but also his nasal cavity and the loudest Papyrus sobbing you've ever heard. I swear, tears cascading out his eyes like waterfalls. That sprite's not even the half of it.

He can have quite the mood swings, so Papyrus' crying stops as quickly as it starts. He could be crying for ten minutes because he stepped on a ladybug, but as soon as Sans reassures him and offers to get him some nice cream, Papyrus immediately stops crying like, "OKAY!!! :D"

For some reason, he doesn't cry much when stressful, depressing things happen in his life, like major traumatic events. Instead, he tries harder to stay happy and optimistic, even going so far as to... You know what he does. Maybe he'd shed a few tears when he's had it, but he has his friends and his family to help him through it. And that's all he ever needed.

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Ironically i thought F&B was the worst thing Grrm has ever written, however watching hotd has made me appreciate F&B alot despite how terrible it's compared to other Grrm's good stories. it's still better than whatever Condal came with. The fact that book!Alicent& Rhaenyra despite being historical figures have much more agency than show!Alicent& Rhaenyra who are pov characters is so funny to me.

I do like F&B, but I like it for the faux history aspect of it, not the story. The story is nothing special. There are some cool bits, and I think most of the characters have the potential to be really fascinating, but they are bare bones at best.

Ultimately though, the characters in the F&B do generally act in a consistent way, and if you work backwards from their actions, you can arrive at a characterization. I feel like the show has done this with Aegon and Aemond for the most part, and even with Daemon, with a few hiccups along the way. But with Alicent and Rhaenyra they did the opposite and it shows. They started with the characters they wanted to portray, and then went about forcing these new characters to perform book events, when those events were not written for a pair of estranged ex-friends, they were written for a stepmother and stepdaughter whose relationship has always been contentious at best. The actions that Alicent and Rhaenyra take in the book are not the actions that people love each other would take. If George had written them as close friends from the start the Dance would have played out very differently!

But that's not the story he wrote, and adapting actions written for people actively antagonistic towards each other to characters who are meant to love each other forces the showrunners into certain corners. Making Otto and Daemon the masterminds orchestrating the violence (remember, in the book Otto never suggested murdering Rhaenyra and her children, and Daemon was the one who urged caution when Rhaenys wanted to go straight to war), inventing a prophesy and deathbed misunderstanding which fundamentally alter the nature of the conflict, these things are done to soften the impact of the canonical actions of these women, but it also absolutely takes away from their agency. You get a really odd situation where the showrunners simultaneously want us to believe that the women should be in charge because the men ruin everything, but the women themselves are both unable to take direct action for fear of harming each other, but also unable to retreat, because the story demands they come to a certain end. Rhaenyra cannot accept the peace terms Alicent sends, or any future peace terms she proposes, and for all that they might come into conflict, Alicent cannot actually join team black and betray her entire family, the children she spent her whole young adulthood keeping alive. Ryan Condal has said that even after Luke's death he still believes there is hope of reconciliation but we know that fundamentally that can only be true in theory because the ending is a forgone conclusion.

There are people who say that Alicent is fundamentally caught between duty and desire, and that is why her character is inconsistent, but I cannot help but think that the reason why her actions are inconsistent is because half of them were written for another character entirely.

[winn-schott-throughtheheart]

In the post abt Winn’s disabilities and stuff, u mentioned James being the booty hole that be is, and curious, how do u hc he messes with Winn and how do the others deal with it? I can imagine James making Winn so frustrated Winn has a meltdown and Alex just shredding James to pieces (my fav protective sister)

i actually think about this all time UGHH

so we already know james can't respect boundaries for the life of him, let alone winns. he's always kinda iffy around winns wheelchair/crutches/other mobility devices (especially when they're in public, almost like he's embarrassed or ashamed to be seen with him, but it's so subtle that no one really noticed)

winn makes it extremely clear to everyone that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to touch his shit, especially if he's using it (unless he asks for help specifically, and even then he only ever asks kara or mon). james sees him ask mon for help exactly one time and takes it as a personal attack on his character, because, well, why would he let them help and not him? and we already know james was jealous of mon-el from the start, which makes it worse

it's not all the time, not frequent enough to make winn confront him or whatever. one morning winn wakes up feeling awful, like dead on his feet, and he knows he's gonna have to use his wheelchair instead of his crutches or a cane, which makes him feel worse, because getting in and out of it and having to maneuver it around his apartment is always such a pain and it leaves him drained. he gets to the deo and he feels like shit, he's tired, he's hungry, and also nauseous so he won't eat anything, and he just wants to get on with his work and forget about everything for a bit. just so happens james is in one of his "helpful" moods and so he takes it upon himself to judge what he thinks is best for winn, touching him and moving him way more than he normally does and lowkey just infantalising him, like winn is incapable of doing anything for himself. at this point winn is simmering and everyone knows it, but they also know better than to offer to interfere. winn is tired and he's sore and he's angry, and then james ruffles his hair as he goes to leave the deo and that is the final straw. he shoves james away from him and rushes to find the quietest corner that he can, but not before he hears alex's sharp voice and a noise that sounds like she's smacked him, and he feels briefly grateful amidst the nausea roiling in his stomach, making his head hurt.

alex finds him in the reactor room, after she's done tearing james a new one and left him at the mercy of j'onn and mon-el (kara thankfully is on patrol, heaven knows what she might have done if she were here.) winn is on the floor in the corner, his chair shoved away from him, crying. he seems to be calming down, hiccuping, and alex guesses that the worst of the meltdown had happened while she was reprimanding james. she doesn't know how much of it winn heard, but she also doesn't really care. she sits with him in silence for a while until his breathing has evened, careful to hold his hand to help ground him. winn and kara are very similar, but also strikingly different- in the lead up to a meltdown, hugging or touching or surrounding kara will help bring her out of it before she reaches the brink, but at the height of it she can't be touched at all- it makes her horribly claustrophobic and only worsens her state. winn is the opposite- touching him in the lead up to a meltdown will only push him over the edge, but once he's there physical contact helps calm him down. alex squeezes his hand softly, and once his tears have slowed, he squeezes back.

"do you need any help?" alex asks gently.

winn shakes his head, then pauses, and nods. he's bone-tired, and every fibre of his being is in even more pain than he was in before. he wipes his face and drags a sticky hand through his hair. he's grateful for the help as alex helps him back into his chair, though he wishes he didn't need it. "it hurts so much, alex." he whispers, and he doesn't know if he means physically, or emotionally.

"do you want to go home?"

winn shakes his head again.

"winn."

another hesitation, and another nod. he wants to just get back on with his work, but rationally he knows there's no way he'd be able to focus. plus, it's always exceptionally embarrassing having a meltdown at work. he accepts the help begrudgingly, and he doesn't talk to james for a week.

james doesn't apologise.

[sadsaltspeck]

It's been so long since I've been here.

I'm

I keep spiralling in my head. There is a part of me that hopes when I kill myself, there would be change. A righteous anger and stir from a crowd of friends and loved ones and onlookers that something was so deeply wrong. That something has to be done and that this won't happen again.

A different part hopes that I kill myself where I sit. On the creek. Or in the grass. Food for the plants. Nothing more. No funeral. No grand procession. Not even a cardboard box. Just to go forgotten. Nothing changes but myself gone. No longer taking from the world or the people I care about. Everything just carries on.

But it wouldnt be either of those. Change or no change. It would be a dull, emotionally frustrating process for those closest to me. Who will have to process my death for some weeks until they can finally move on. It wouldn't change anything. It would just be more problems. My existence, dead or alive is always a problem.

Whenever I look her in her smug eyes, I know what I am. I am the failure. The leech. The problem child latched to her sister who can't provide her anything she needs. I'm the opposing voter that's an annoyance at best at her victory party. Because in the end I am truly a worm in her shoe. Just disgusting. Inconsequential. Annoying that best, actively a nuisance at worst.

My entire country feels this way about me. About people I care about. I am a negative mark. I'm not bleeding enough. I need to bleed until I die and then I can finally stop complaining for the rest of the country.

After how I snapped I doubt mom and dad are looking for me. They're probably apologizing on my behalf. I'll have to apologize that even trying to remove myself before I outburst further is now seen as an overdramatic response.

Do they even know I left the house?

Dad would care eventually. He would look for me once the dust settled. I'm adding to my debt ruining his birthday. Not really ruining. Just another blemish. Another hiccup on another unremarkable day.

Mom is going to be so angry. She's going to be furious how I spoke to Tia. She already thinks so little of me. I see it in her eyes too. I'm her bad investment. Tia has nothing invested in me. I can be a grub in her eyes. But mom? Just being her daughter she still has to see all the time and effort she put in. 30 years of life utterly wasted. In her eyes I see that I'm this ever growing trash pile. It's a problem that has to be dealt with. But you've put so much into the pile, surely it would make something. Be something.

I am still nothing at 30. I'm about to be 31. I'm so powerless. So useless. At 20 I was more convinced to kill myself because I didn't want to take more from anyone. I resolved to pay back my debt someday. Live another day in hopes I can just undo some of it. I owe more than ever. 10 years and I know I cannot be anything more than this. But I'm still trapped.

I spent so many years of my life trapped with senna on the same thoughts. I'm causing and receiving so much pain. But to end it would be pulling the trolley lever. It would be choosing to inflict pain rather than just falling through life. Letting it happen.

Dad just texted me. I feel like I've been writing this for an hour. I don't know what to do. I don't have the strength to tell him no. I don't have the strength to tell him yes. I don't want anything anymore. I just want the 5hllthoughts to stop. I want to dive into this awful little canal. It's not even deep

Why am I laughing

What a dumb place to die.

Between my home and a highway

In a water runoff.

[chieftn]

hey it’s been  four  whole  years  but drago’s     :      this      –      is   the   great  dragon  master     ?          the  son  of  stoick  the  vast   ?         what  shame  he  must  feel.         bc like.      no no,    you don’t understand,    he’s    right    ?  

the only thing stoick has wanted for hiccup is to.    be  like  them  ?    be a viking  ?   and for him to,   in actuality,    be.    so different,   so  drastically  different,   so seemingly easily  ?    y’all  remember  the kill ring   ?    how hiccup goes against the whole of viking culture up to this point,    saying,    like stone,   a permanence,     i’m  not  one  of  them   ?   

and how this.   stays even  after  the events w/ the red death   ?    even in riders of b.erk,    portrait  of  hiccup  as  a  buff  young  man    ?    is that not.    shame,   there   ?    that even in all of his accomplishments,  in trying to be this bridge between their worlds,   in orchestrating this new part of their history,    they still don’t want to see it all as.    him   ?    

and yea it gets better as hic and stoick develop relationship-wise,   but like.  don’t u think stoick would’ve been  100 %  happier if hiccup was.  big and strong and idealistically viking-like  ?   someone the village would be overjoyed to see as their chief   ?    as their leader  ?    here he is,     dragon by his side,   a whole ass night fury,   w/ status and title of chief-to-be and  pride  of  berk,    all of it so.    sacrificially  earned,   monumentally,   and still,   still,   he is ever-followed by this philosophy of  not  being  enough    !  !  !

[bunnyywritings]

bubbly s/o opens up about trauma pt. 1

bakugou katsuki & shouto todoroki x gn!reader

word count: 1.8k

requested by anon: Katsu, Sho, Izu, and Eiji headcanons to their bubbly, and sweet crush, and close friend, opening up to them about being abused by their parents growing up? They've gotten therapy and are living with their Grandparents but sometimes they get upset when someone brings up parents or asks about the scars from abuse. They tell them they shared this with them because they refused to lie to them. They hug him close, thanking him for being a good friend. -Morp

[a/n: i hope you don’t mind that I’m doing it in parts anon! i ended up doing scenarios for each one, i'm a bit rusty so i apologize if this isn't very well done. you can read part 2 [ here ] ,thank you for requesting sweet heart! here you go! - yours truly, bunny -`ღ´- ]

TW: mentions of parental abuse & scars, nothing explicit but implied

To an extent, he always knew. Maybe not the specifics, but whenever you were alone and thought no one was paying any attention, you’d let your guard down. The metaphorical sparkle in your eyes would dim, your shoulders would slump as if you were taking a break. Then someone would approach and in the blink of an eye, the sparkle was back and the familiar grin on your lips was present once again. Despite what others may think, Bakugou was a good friend.

He worried about you. A lot.

That may be due to the fact that he has a huge crush on you, but it was unlikely. He values your friendship so much. He’d rather have you as a friend than anything else, really. That was mainly his insecurity talking though. He just thought he wasn’t good enough for you. No one was, really. But that’s besides the point.

He had never explicitly said anything about his feelings for you but he didn’t need to. It was quite clear through his actions. Well...clear to everyone but you, that is. Even Aizawa had caught on. And he couldn’t care less about his students’ love lives. He’s had his fill of teenage angst and drama.

During training, he’d always make sure your water bottle was full or during lunch he’d keep an eye out and make sure you were eating. Sometimes he’d even give you extra pieces of meat from his plate, or if he had veggies he knows you like, he’d wordlessly place them into your rice bowl.

Now this wasn’t one sided at all. You also had your ways of looking out for him.

If you were doing a convenience store run with Sero and you saw the particular snack that Bakugou likes, you’d instantly grab a few. For his birthday, you had gotten him custom earplugs for quirk training. It had been after you and him were paired to spar against each other, he always insisted on not holding back against you out of respect, and you had experienced one of his full blown attacks head-on. Your ears were ringing for about half an hour before you could somewhat hear again, and even then, everything was a bit muffled.

Needless to say, you were worried about his hearing

He scoffed and rolled his eyes when he unwrapped the box. Scolding you for wasting money on something he had no use for.

He always uses them though. Especially when he’s doing stamina training, and it’s explosion after explosion.

Anyways. He notices your strange behavior, one day. You stopped trying to keep up the façade and you were sort of gloomy all day. He was absolutely pissed that no one had noticed the change, and he’d yell at them later for it, but he kept his cool and waited until he could be alone with you.

It had been around 8pm, just an hour before his bedtime, when he made some tea for the both of you and carried it up to your dorm room. He paused in front of your door, looking down at both his hands, a mug in each one, then looking at the door handle. Realizing he won't be able to physically open the door by himself, he awkwardly bumped the door with his elbow.

“Hey idiot, it’s me. Open the door.” He grumbled quietly, frowning when you hadn’t responded. Before he could repeat himself a little more aggressively, the muffled sound of your sniffling made his stomach drop. Panic rising throughout his body as he made up worst case scenarios in his head.

“(Y/n), seriously. Is everything okay?” All attempts to sound calm failed as his voice betrayed him, trembling the slightest bit.

On the other side of the door, you started to panic. Furiously wiping any evidence of tears or snot from your face before you slumped over to the door, turning the lock and tugging it open to reveal a frowning Bakugou. He wasn’t upset, he was worried. It was evident in his red irises.

“Here. Drink it before it gets cold.” He handed you a mug before walking past you and into your room. He admired the decor everytime he was in there, no matter how many times he had seen it already, it never failed to make his heart warm. You had a wall full of pictures of yourself with your friends. There were a few solo photos of your friends as well. Most were candid shots, there were a fair few of him.

It always reminded him that beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder. You cherished those candid photos because in your eyes, when your friends were carefree and themselves, no poses, no facade, that’s when they were their most beautiful.

He took a seat on your bed and patted the space beside him. Nudging the door shut, you made your way over and got comfortable.

“What’s up with you today? You seemed...not yourself.”

You didn’t respond, opting to take a sip of your tea. He knew there was something up and he wasn’t gonna push you. So he leaned back and got comfortable, waiting until you were ready. It was a solid three minutes of silence before you took a deep breath.

“I-I don’t want to lie to you, Katsuki. It just wouldn’t be fair so uhh, yeah. Here goes.” He could tell that this was overwhelming for you so, wordlessly, he put down his mug and held his hand out to you and you grasped it, like it was a lifeline.

And you told him.

You told him about the abuse from your own parents. He felt his blood boil as you showed him a few scars inflicted by your parents’ quirks. You explained that it was the anniversary of the day you ran away and went to live with your grandparents, and how you had been seeing a therapist on the regular since then.

It pained him to see you struggle through the tears, hiccuping a few times as you attempted to catch your breath. You didn’t even have to say it but he could see it, it was an all too familiar feeling to him. He tugged you to him, letting go of your hand and pulling you into his chest, his arms wrapping you up in a warmth that made the stinging tears return.

“You know, this doesn’t make me think less of you. You’re not weak. Those bastards don’t realize how bad they screwed up. You’re strong, and they’re gonna regret every goddamn choice they’ve made when they see how far you’ll go.”

“Thank you.” You whimpered as you gave in to the new wave of tears, hooking your arms around his shoulders. “Thank you…”

If anyone asks, no...he wasn’t crying. (He was though.)

If anyone was familiar with the signs of abuse, it was him. 

It hurt him so much knowing that you had gone through what he did, maybe not to the same extreme but you had experienced it nonetheless. 

He admired you though. Despite whatever happened to you, you were always bright. Always in a good mood and always choosing to see the good in people. He knows that he didn’t have the strength to do that. Maybe eventually, but not so soon. He had never wanted to pry. You guys were friends, practically best friends and he trusted that you’d tell him when you were ready. 

To his knowledge, no one knew. No one mentioned the way you’d flinch around sudden movements or when someone raised their voice. Honestly, it was a wonder that you had even befriended Iida. He was the epitome of loud and sudden. Always waving his arms around at the randomest times and always shouting to chastise someone for breaking a rule. 

He noticed that you tended to cover up your torso often. Never really wearing anything more revealing than a normal t-shirt. Even on the class trip to the beach, you insisted on staying covered up. No one questioned it, chalking it up to insecurity. Even during training when everyone had to wear their gym uniform, while others undid the top part and wrapped it around their waist, being clad in a tank top or sports bra, you had always kept it on. Even when it was extremely hot. More often than not, he found himself resting his palm against your forehead to cool you off. 

It hadn’t been very hot, but Aizawa decided to run everyone ragged with combat training, so everyone was partnered up. Todoroki had been partnered with Denki and you had been paired up with Eijirou.

As he sat with his classmates, watching the two of you spar, he was quite impressed. Not that he doubted your skill but both fighting styles were drastically different. Eijirou and his quirk relied on close combat while your quirk worked best with long-range. He could see the frustration on your face when Eijirou kept charging towards you and engaging in hand to hand.

As the fight went on, Kirishima had hardened his forearm and hand, kinda like a makeshift blade and as he took you down, he had accidentally cut the top of your gym uniform. As the dust settled and the both of you got up, the tear in your clothes allowed the whole class to see your back and shoulders, skin littered with scars. All were different in size, color, severity, etc. 

Everyone was stunned silent, not having expected anything like this. 

“(Y/n)...what happened?” You could feel the breeze on your back and the pity in Kirishima’s eyes made you angry.

Everyone suddenly snapped into realization. Various questions of; ‘who did that to you?’, ‘where did those come from?’ and whatnot were shot at you from different directions. He could see you slowly being overwhelmed by everything. His heart dropped as he made eye contact with you, your eyes tired and filled with tears. 

“That’s ENOUGH!” Everyone froze and looked at Todoroki with wide eyes, his voice booming.

Sensing the tension starting to rise, Aizawa sighed. 

“Alright everyone settle down. Training is over, get back to class. (Y/n). A word.” 

Reluctantly, Todoroki followed the boys into the locker room and changed into his school uniform.  When everyone was out and he returned outside to the training grounds, you and Aizawa weren’t there so he had gone back to the locker rooms. He knocked and called out to you. 

“Can I come in?” He heard a meek ‘yeah.’ So he carefully made his way inside. 

There you were, dressed in your school uniform and sat on a bench with your face buried in your hands, shoulders shaking. 

“(Y/n)...” He gently placed a hand on your shoulder, he winced when you looked up at him. IIt ached him to see your beautiful eyes tainted by tears. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner Sho…” Your bottom lip quivered. 

“Please, don’t apologize.” He opened his arms. You stood up and basically collapsed into them, clutching onto the back of his blazer. “Just always remember that I may understand more than anyone else will. I’ll never judge you, you know that right?” 

“I know…It’s just, ugh-” You pulled away and wiped the tears from your face. “I don’t want anyone to change how they look at me because of what my parents did to me and when everyone saw, and they were asking all of their questions, their eyes...they were just full of pity.” 

“Then look into mine.”

And when you did, you didn’t see pity. 

You saw admiration. You saw belonging. Love. Understanding. 

“Nothing will ever change with me, (Y/n).” He pressed his forehead against yours, “I will always be here for you.” 

[amor-immortalem]

You’re Important to Me part 4

Part 1 | part 2| part 3

Genre: angst/comfort

———————————————————————-

Chat: Troublemaker (affectionate)

Lucifer: Come home immediately. We need to talk.

Mammon: bout what? If its one of your shitty punishments. Think I’ll pass.

Lucifer rested his head on his desk letting out a groan. The second-born was frustrating him to no end. However, the first-born supposes he’s made him this way from everything he’s put him through. Picking up the pill bottle, he rolled it in his hand and watched as the contents slid from one side to the other. He placed them in a locked door in his desk as he thought about how they had been this close to losing yet another sibling.

A soft rapping on the office door pulled his attention back to the present.

“Enter,” he sat up straight as the guest joined him. It was Levi.

“Do you think Mammon still loves us. I-I’ve really been thinking about what’s been going on….. about our family. What if he leaves us? We lost Lilith. I-I don’t want to lose him too…” The Avatar of Envy’s voice quaked. Back when they were angels they were once close- almost even closer than the twins.

“I’m sure he does, Levi.” His response was hollow words. If Lucifer was being honest, he didn’t really know how Mammon felt about them currently. If he were the one in Mammon’s shoes, he would absolutely despise his brothers.“He’s currently refusing to come home, however. It’s likely that he knows what went on today and that’s why he broke up with the human we all know he cherishes so deeply. He didn’t want us to know.”

“I knew it! He hates us and never wants to see our faces again.”

“Leviathan, I never said that.” Lucifer’s voice was stern. “Please calm down before you throw yourself into a panic attack. He has to come home eventually, and we’ll all talk then- if not tonight then definitely tomorrow morning. For now, maybe you should go play one of your games. If you’d like I could join you to help take your mind off this whole debacle.”

Levi nodded his head slowly. “ I would appreciate that….. Actually, I had made this rpg specifically to play-test with Mammon but if you wanted to….we could play it together.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Levi.”

Finally deciding to make his way home, Mammon pushed open the heavy doors to the house. The last thing he wanted to do was face his brothers right now. He already anticipated their reactions. The teasing and mocking that would be thrown his way- there wasn’t any escape for him now, was there? At least no one was here at the moment- that much he could be greatful for.

As he made his way up to his room, the demon made sure to avoid the places he knew his brothers would frequent at this time of night. Once there, he slipped inside and tossed the bag of clothes he had modeled in today from the top of of the stairs into the walk in closet with practiced precision. When he turned his head, he saw her small, blurry form just lying there on the couch.

“Why’re you in here? Ya got a room if your own dontcha?”

“I just….. sorry. I pushed too hard, didn’t I?” Arella’s voice sounded hurt. “It was just that I thought this might be the only place I could go and you’re brothers wouldn’t come looking for me. I’m still really angry with them. Not that they would anyway, not with how I screamed and yelled at them earlier...”

“And Lucifer didn’t kill ya on the spot? Its a miracle you’re alive after that.” He let out a chuckle. “I can’t tell if you’re incredibly brave or just plain dumb.”

“Maybe both…..” Arella sighed, “I… um… I’ll go back to my room now.” As she stood and made her up the staircase, he could feel the sadness radiating off of their pact mark.

“‘Rella, wait.” He grabbed her by the arm. “Don’t go. I don’t mind if ya stay…. We should talk about earlier, okay?”

He watched as she nodded a small frown on her face. Now that he could see her more clearly, he noticed the puffy eyes and tear tacks streaked down her cheeks. Now he just felt worse.

“I was thinkin’ real hard about this morning and I’m sorry for what I said earlier.” He started, “I don’t… I don’t really think we should break up…. I know you were just trying to help. That you were worried and scared for me.”

“I was…. Can I tell you something?“ she asks as he nods. “Seven years ago, I lost my little brother and then six months later my mother to suicide. One to cyber bullying, the other because she was so consumed with grief from the loss of a child that she saw no way to go on…. Do you know what was like….. to find their bodies? To realize you could have helped them if you had just paid attention and seen the warning signs? It still affects me to this day….They were the only blood related family I had left until I had found a new family here in the Devildom with you and your brothers. A-and then when you were saying all those things last night, I- I flashed back to the night I had found my brother but instead of him it was you and I-I-”

Mammon pulled the human tight against his chest in what could have been a bone crushing hug if he wasn’t careful and she buried her face in his chest. Her body shook with with muffled sobs.

“I’m sorry. I was running my mouth without thinking ‘bout what that might do to everyone- worst of all you….” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I wont say things like that ever again. No matter how I’m feelin’.

He walked her back towards the bed, letting her get in as he went to go change into some more comfortable clothes for sleeping. He joined her in bed shortly after, pulling her close as he wiped the stray tears from his cheeks. Arella moved closer so she could lay her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat, her crying reduce to quiet sniffles and hiccups by this point.

“Ya know, I think you just wasted your breath when you were yellin’ at my brothers earlier…. I think to them, I’ll just always be the family screw up. I’m already dreading the teasing I’ll get tomorrow at breakfast….”

“It had to be done, though. I think I managed to set them all straight….If you could have seen the look on their faces when I lost control of my temper and fried all the electronics in the common room or when I commanded Asmo to sit so hard he crashed face first into the floor….”

“Wait…you did what?” He quirked an eyebrow as he stared down at her before breaking into a soft laugh, “Ya really are something else, Hon, ya know that? I’ve never met someone who would fight for me like this before- who would call my brothers out on their bullshit.”

“Only because I know you don’t deserve to be treated this way…. You… you deserve good things and to be treated well by the people who you love most.” She yawned as she stretched out a little more in his embrace. “And because I love you and I would be lost if anything were to happen to you.” Her eyes were starting to slip closed.

“I love you too, babe.” The demon hummed as he started to card his fingers through her hair. As soon as he was sure she was out like a light he pressed his lips to the crown of her heard once more.

“Thank you for being here on my worst days, for being my little ray of sunshine down here in the dark.”

Once the morning came around, most of Mammon’s brothers gathered in the common room. They were awaiting the entrance of the Avatar of Greed as it was nearly breakfast time.

Lucifer had figured Mammon would be avoiding them as if they had the plague, so he instructed Beel to drag him in here by any means necessary. They all knew he was successful when they heard Mammon let out a surprised yelp and the clattering of a bowl against the floor.

“C’mon, Beel, Let me go!”

“Not until we all talk.”

“Talk? What’s there to talk about? I didn’t do nothin’ so let me go!’

Both demons soon entered the dining room as the sixth-born sat his older on the couch facing all of them, holding him down by his shoulders so Mammon couldn’t escape despite how he squirmed and tried to wiggle his way out of Beel’s grasp.

“Mammon, stop struggling.” It was a request from eldest, a chance to cooperate. “We all have some words we’d like to say to you.”

Mammon froze at that statement. Here it came: all the ridicule and teasing. He wanted to run. He was the second strongest of them, maybe if he tried hard enough, he could shake his little brother off and get away. What good would that do him though? His brothers would just corner him later anyway so maybe it was just best to get it over with now.

He looked towards his brothers’ blurry figures, a million different thoughts rushing his head. He couldn’t tell their expressions from this distance but they had to be smiling, right- ready to laugh at him any minute now. His body tensed as he braced himself for the harsh sting of their words.

“Mammon, we’re sorry,” Asmo was the first to speak up after a short moment of silence, “We love you so much even though we suck at showing it.”

“You did so much for us after we fell,- you still do a lot for us even now,” the seventh-born picked his head up from the table,“And I don’t think we ever told you how much we all appreciate it…. If it weren’t for you, I don’t even think we would still be a family… don’t forget, you’re the one who kept us all in line when Lucifer would lock himself away in his office back then.”

“I know we act like you’re just a burden to us,” Satan started, “but I think all of us would agree that life would be so boring without you here.”

“Yeah, I-I mean who else would take the time to play games with me when I’m down in the dumps?” Levi asked.

“Or risk getting strung up from the chandelier to get me the food that I want from the human world?” Beel cut in.

“Or compliment me on my outfit or hair no matter what form I choose to take for the day. Or is always there to hype me up when I’m having a bad day? Hell, you even gave up the position of DevilStyle’s cover model just for me! Honestly I think you might be the best big brother out there.”

“We know about all the things you’ve done in secret for us- the things you don’t take credit for,” Lucifer smiled softly, “I’m proud to call you my brother for that. We love you and while you may make some poor life choices from time to time, our lives just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Mammon looks at them in a daze. Was this really happening? His brothers were…. Apologizing? To him of all people? This had to be a dream. There was no reality in which his brothers really cared about him. The second-born pinched the skin on his arm. That’s what you did to check if you were dreaming, right?

Harder, harder he pinched until the spot was sure to bruise. It wasn’t until Beelzebub placed his hand over his that Mammon realized he wasn’t dreaming. This was reality.

Tears welled in his eyes as he processed the words he just heard. One tear fell down his cheek soon followed by another then another until eventually the demon let out a sob.

“Th-This ain’t real! It ain’t!” The second-born yelled, his body shaking as he sobbed harder. “I’m still dreamin’. I-I gotta be! None of this is real…”

His brothers moved to embrace him- first the sixth-born, then the eldest and then the youngest. One by one, the rest of their brothers followed suit until the seven of them all somehow managed to end up on the floor in one giant cuddle pile, his face pressed into Lucifers as they allowed their brother to cry out all the tears he’d been bottling up for all these centuries.

It seemed they were going to be there a while- Good thing Lucifer had called Diavolo to tell him they wouldn’t be attending RAD today. That this was a more important matter to attend to.

“This stops today, Lucifer announced to his siblings once Mammon had stopped crying. “From today on, the six of us will make a conscious effort to change the ways we’ve talk to and treated you.”

“And if we get too out of hand, feel free to put us in our place,” Belphegor chuckled. “We can be blockheads from time to time.”

“The point is,” Asmodeus sighed as he hugged his brother a little tighter, “We all messed up big time. We just want to make you feel loved and appreciated again- like you’re an important part of this family.”

“We lost Lilith.” It was Beel’s turn to speak. “We’re not losing you too.”

Mammon smiled at his brothers’ words. Finally, he had thought, finally they were showing their true feelings to him after all these centuries.

“Thanks guys…..” the demon’s voice sounded cracked and strained from all the crying he had done earlier. “Even after everything that’s happened I wouldn’t trade y’all for the world. I love you guys.”

A chorus of ‘I love you too’s sounded from the group of demons as another family hug commenced. Eventually, as hours passed, one by one, they had all fallen asleep, each with a smile on their face and still huddled together.

Arella eventually found them in that state. With a soft smile she grabbed the blanket they often used for movie night and draped it over them heading back to her room so she wouldn’t disturb them.

———————————————————————-

Taglist: @gallantys

Masterlist 2

[wanderinginksplot]

Hi! I wanted to make a request from the “Everything is terrible, so why not have some fics?” post. You said you didn’t have any and I loved the Tech - First Kiss fic you wrote. I wanted to request 15F with fem!reader. I’m thinking more fluff but reader needs to let out some emotions that have been bottled up for a while through some tears. (I hope I’m not asking too much)

Wrecker is my favorite and I moved halfway across the country from home to figure out life for myself and I’m kinda homesick myself.

Hey, @gjrain20-starwars! Thank you so much for the request! I’m realizing that this is probably toeing the line between fluff and hurt/comfort, and I apologize! Enjoy!

---

Wrecker + Homesick Fem!Reader

You crept quietly through the halls of Spearpoint Outpost. There was a strict, recently established curfew on base. Ever since Anaxes had become the focus of a Separatist campaign, security on Spearpoint had stepped up from ‘routine’ to ‘unpleasant’. 

The only reason you were out and about so late at night was to try to make a rare call home. The middle of the night was the only time there was a chance of catching a spare bit of signal to make a personal call. GAR-standard comms were strong enough to hog all available frequencies when they were being used, so nighttime was the only option. Besides, the time difference meant that your calls would come through in the morning back home on Bespin.

At least, they would if you could ever get through. After a full hour of trying without success, desperate for a scrap of a familiar voice, you had bitten back tears of lonely frustration and started the return journey to your bunk.

You probably should have been more worried about being caught out of barracks after curfew. If a superior officer found you, it would mean a solid dressing-down at best, and likely some disciplinary action. At absolute worst, they could discharge you from the GAR altogether considering the state of things on Anaxes. That didn’t sound like as much of a punishment as it should have in your current emotional state.

Still, you walked quickly and quietly through the winding tunnels that made up Spearpoint Outpost. There weren’t many people around so late, and you were wearing your full uniform. No one would notice that you were out of place unless they were looking.

“Hey!” a voice bellowed from beside you, so abruptly that you fumbled and dropped the comlink you had been cradling absently.

“What the-?” you glanced around rapidly, zeroing in on the source of the noise after only a moment. The greeting had come from Wrecker, the largest, loudest member of the Bad Batch, who had recently been based on Anaxes. It was only a temporary assignment while the GAR had them run a series of missions around the area to ward off the Separatists, but they had been at Spearpoint for a few weeks and would likely be here at least a few more. 

A solid chunk of your coworkers weren’t a fan of the Bad Batch. Hunter was nice enough, you guessed, but quiet. He kept to himself as a rule. Tech was whip-smart but not great with social situations. He had alienated some of Spearpoint’s officers by pointing out ways they were minorly breaking regs. Crosshair seemed to be purposefully unpleasant, so most people avoided him on principle. Wrecker, though, had gone out of his way to make friends on Spearpoint. 

Somehow, you in particular had attracted his attention. If the Bad Batch were on-planet, you saw Wrecker at least once every day. 

“Wrecker!” you hissed, clutching at your chest. Unnecessarily, you told him, “You scared me!”

You stooped to pick up the comlink, but Wrecker got to it first. It was unfair for someone that big to be so fast, you mused. You tried to grab the comlink from him, but he had a good grip on it. There was no way you were getting it back through force. The idea was laughable.

“Why are you awake so late?” Wrecker asked, ignoring your efforts to get the comlink back.

“Late shift,” you lied. “Just got done.”

He watched you skeptically, the eyebrow over his good eye lifting. “You’ve been off-duty since nineteen-hundred hours, liar.”

You stared at him, aghast. “How do you know that?”

“You’re always done at nineteen-hundred,” he answered simply, studying the comlink. 

“Then you know why I need to get back to my barracks before anyone sees me,” you told him, deciding to trust the Bad Batcher. “I’m breaking curfew by about four hours, here.”

“Curfew?” he asked, belting out a laugh that made you nervously glance around at the empty hallway. “No one obeys curfew.”

“I do,” you argued, nettled. “We’re in a war zone.”

“Barely,” Wrecker snorted. “Do you think you’ll bring the Seppies here by being out of bed too late?”

“No, but I’d rather not be demoted,” you said icily. “Now, give me my comlink. I need to get back before anyone catches me or turns me in.”

“Okay,” he agreed easily, handing the comlink over. “I’ll walk you back.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder. Wrecker seemed nice enough, but he was big and loud. Your chances of getting caught with him were much higher than if you were alone. “No, thank you. I’m all right.”

He tsked at you. “Don’t you know we’re in a war zone? I’m coming along.”

You rolled your eyes and walked a little faster in hope of losing him. Of course, he was faster than you ever gave him credit for, so he kept up with ease.

“So, who was important enough that you’re willing to risk a demotion to talk to them?” Wrecker asked, gesturing to the comlink in your hand. “Boyfriend?”

“No,” you denied instantly. “My family. I haven’t… haven’t seen them since I joined the GAR. I’ve only gotten to speak to them a few times.”

Wrecker was silent at that, but a glance up at him revealed that he seemed deep in thought. “You miss them.”

“I do,” you admitted, wrapping your arms around yourself, “but it’s more than that. I miss everything about my home. I miss the food in Cloud City. I miss the birds and the sunsets. I miss being home, you know?”

You vaguely recognized that you were rambling, but the words wouldn’t stop. “I don’t know what I’m even doing here. Everything is different and I’m scared all of the time. Sometimes, I think all of this was a mistake.”

You finally stopped talking and pretended to study the hallway wall, doing your best to sniffle in a way that he wouldn’t hear. Of course, it would have been hard to miss the horrible, thick sound of tears in your voice. You subtly wiped your face and cleared your throat. 

What were you doing? Wrecker was an elite soldier, even more so than the other troopers that constantly surrounded you. He had literally been bred for strength and durability. You couldn’t afford to look weak in front of any of them, but especially not in front of Wrecker. He was the strongest man you had ever known. He must think you were so silly, crying over a home and family when they were safe. You were just away from them right now. There was no need for tears. You were just having trouble convincing your heart about that.

A large hand settled on your shoulder, the immense weight of it grounding you. 

“I understand,” Wrecker said softly - well, as softly as you had ever heard him speak. “I don’t have a home, but I have a family. I don’t know what I would do without them. I’d hate to be away from ‘em.”

“Even… Even Crosshair?” you joked weakly, interrupted by a slight cracking in your voice.

Wrecker chuckled, the sound lower and more personal than you were used to hearing from him. “Even Crosshair. Don’t tell him I said that, though. Family is family, even if we drive each other crazy sometimes. And it wasn’t a mistake, coming here. I might be biased, ‘cause this is the only way I met you, but different isn’t bad, ya know? You’re doing your best and it’s helping you grow. It’s uncomfortable now, but uncomfortable and scared are the first steps to some great stuff.”

“I guess-” you hiccuped softly and laughed a little at the ridiculousness of having a post-midnight philosophical therapy session with the massive Bad Batch member. “I guess you do understand.” 

Wrecker hummed an agreement at that. “Besides, home and family aren’t just the stuff you left behind, ya know? You’ve got friends here.” He beamed, squeezing your shoulder with what must have been a tiny fraction of his immense strength. “And, hey, you’ve got me!”

“Do I?” you asked, enjoying the first effortless smile you had worn in a while.

“Of course! I want to be part of your new family.” He paused, rubbing at the back of his neck. “If that’s okay with you, I mean.”

“I…” you paused to swipe under your eyes once more. “I would like that, I think.”

“Good!” Wrecker smiled, stooping toward you. You were wrapped up in the best hug of your life before you knew what was happening. 

Wrecker was even more giant this close, and you were surrounded on all sides by warmth and solid muscle. He squeezed and lifted you just a bit, letting your feet dangle a short distance above the ground. You couldn’t reach all the way around his broad back, but you had your arms wrapped around him anyway, holding onto him just as tightly as he was to you.

When you finally patted his back, Wrecker gently deposited you onto your feet once more and stepped back. His eyes were bright and warm, which perfectly matched how you felt. Hugging Wrecker had felt like taking a deep breath, like a sip of water after a hard workout, like stretching after a long transport ride. 

“Thank you, Wrecker,” you said. It felt like too simple a phrase to sum up everything you were feeling, but it was everything you had.

“Anytime,” he replied easily. “I mean it. If you need anything, whether it’s a hug or to hit someone, come find me.”

You nodded, and he pulled a faux serious face. “Now, off to bed before someone finds out you’re breaking curfew.”

“We are in a war zone,” you agreed with a grin. 

The rest of the short walk to your bunk took place in a companionable silence. As you reached to type the code into the pad next to the door, Wrecker tapped your wrist to stop you. 

“Hey, you should come by the Havoc Marauder tomorrow,” he suggested quietly.

You frowned. “Why? Didn’t you guys crash-land like, two days ago?”

“Yeah, why?” Wrecker asked, looking confused. His face cleared a moment later. “Oh, no, we aren’t going anywhere. But I’ll get Tech to kick up the power on your comlink. You should be able to talk to your family without GAR comms interfering. Your long-distance family, I mean.”

You felt the smile spread over your face, but Wrecker interrupted as you started to thank him. “And, that way, you’ll be able to contact us when we’re off-planet. Ya know, in case you want to talk to your new family, too.”

“That sounds perfect,” you accepted gratefully, not typing in the code to your barracks even after he gestured you toward the keypad. You really shouldn’t risk making him uncomfortable… but you were too selfish not to take advantage of the opportunity. You held your arms out a bit. “One more hug?”

From the chuckle that rumbled through his chest as you were squeezed against it, Wrecker was only too happy to oblige.

---

A/N - if this was a little too hurt/comfort and not enough fluff, let me know! I’d be happy to write another chapter with more fluff. Thank you so much (again) for making this request! (As a side note, I also moved far away from home and it was one of the best decisions I ever made. It’s hard, but the experience will make you a stronger, more independent person. You’re doing amazing!)

If anyone wants to make a request, I dearly love writing them! I might come up with another prompt list eventually, but here is the original prompt list in case you need some ideas. Read other one-shots from the same prompt list on my masterlist.

Thanks for reading!

(Update 7/02/21: this now has a sequel chapter here!)

[phy-be]

| treasured | a david/genya fic

my participation to the mini-bang for @grishaversebigbang ♡ This was so fun to write, and a million thank you to my two wonderful materialki! Please check out their amazing work:

@nuclearnik [link] @zemenipearls [link]

Rating: General Audiences Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, proposal, set between Ruin and Rising and King of Scars, Canon Compliant, david is a nerd and he loves his soul mate very very much, cw: nerdy descriptions of rocks, Grishaverse Minibang Summary:

“David, you didn’t have to…”

He frowned and cocked his head. “Yes, I did. It’s customary to gift a ring when asking someone’s hand in marriage.”

He was never good at understanding social norms, but he was pretty sure he’d gotten that one right.

David pressed the button on the side of his microscope goggles, switching the lens to a more magnifying glass. In the palm of his gloved hand, a crystal gleamed, like sparks of purple fire trapped in stone. The light hit each of its faces in slightly different ways, creating an explosion of colours and geometrical shapes. It was even more beautiful seen up close, when David could not only admire the beauty of the thing, but also the elegant laws of science that made the light refract just so.

Crystals were complicated to work with. Their beauty was due to a highly specific geometry at the molecular level, and any careless alteration could damage their inner core, breaking the stone or making it duller. Even if some were strong enough to cut glass, crystals were precious; they needed to be handled with the utmost care.

David loved working on crystals.

His quiet work was interrupted by anguished sobs coming from the bed.

Quickly, he slipped the stone in a bit of fabric and rushed from his desk. Genya was having another nightmare. Throwing off his glasses and gloves, he hurried to find her on the bed. He took her in a protective embrace as she sobbed, screamed, legs jerking in panic. She clawed at the air around, desperately chasing off a horde of invisible nichevo'ya.

“Stop,” she begged. She wasn’t talking to him.

David held her tighter. Every time he saw her this way, so anguished and pained, helpless to her inner demons, a bitter guilt settled in him, consigned in a single thought: I should have protected her.

Then the guilt faded into hot-white anger — at the Darkling, who had done this to her, who had known how much it would hurt and keep hurting her — until David discarded that emotion, too. Rage and regret were not useful feelings to linger on. Helping Genya get through this, making her pain more bearable — these were the only things that mattered.

Eventually her movements calmed, her hiccupping sobs turning into shallow breaths and silent tears. David caressed her hair, the auburn locks softer than any silk he’d ever felt, and dropped feather-light kisses on her forehead. Genya nestled closer to him, burying her face in his neck. He could feel the wetness of her tears trickling on his skin.

“You’re safe, dear,” he whispered, knowing that he would do everything in his power to make sure this would always be true, from now on. “You’re safe.”

Her grip tightened on his shirt.

“W-were you awake?” she said, her voice still shaken.

David recognized the change of topic as her way to distract herself from the nightmares that lingered in her wakefulness. He played along.

“Yes,” he said, kissing her hair. “I was working late.”

“It’s almost morning,” she murmured. “You work late a lot lately.”

“I’m working on a project.”

“What project?”

David hesitated; Tamar had said he was supposed to keep it a secret. Keeping anything from Genya was hard enough normally, but when she was vulnerable like this, it was downright impossible.

He got up to get the piece of fabric — Genya followed him out of bed, not wanting to let go of his embrace, and he smiled, endeared. Gently, he led her back to the bed, sat next to her, and put his creation in her open palms.

“It’s not finished,” he warned.

Genya carefully unwrapped the silk. Her eyes widened at the sight of the ring, a glistening band of grisha steel wrapping like branches around a rose-shaped stone. When she turned it to get a better look, the candlelight shining through the crystal switched its colour from red, to purple, to blue.

“I altered the refracting index at different levels of the structure to make the crystal polychromatic,” David explained, excited in spite of himself. “I’ve done this with metals before, but never with crystal. It still needs polishing before I can give it to you, though.”

Genya’s eyebrow shot up, looking shocked. “This is for me?”

“Of course.” He admired the ring against Genya’s hand, as beautiful as he’d expected. It would be perfect once she wore it. Silver and red always complemented her pale, rosy skin, the way gold and purple complemented the bronze colour of his own.

“David, you didn’t have to…”

He frowned and cocked his head. “Yes, I did. It’s customary to gift a ring when asking someone’s hand in marriage.”

He was never good at understanding social norms, but he was pretty sure he’d gotten that one right.

“Y-you’re—” Genya croaked, her skin visibly flushed, “you’re proposing to me?”

“Not right now,” David corrected. “Tamar told me it had to be a special moment, so I’m still working on the details of that.”

He’d been thinking of doing it at sunset, for one. The fiery hues of the sky when the sun slipped under the horizon always reminded him of Genya’s hair, and it would look good on the ring. He’d calculated which part of the palace would be the most adequate spot — a corner of the Summoner’s field provided the perfect exposure for the ring to reflect sunrays and shimmer beautifully — but he needed a reason to bring Genya there that wouldn’t alarm her. Tamar had suggested a picnic, which David had found confusing since they never ate on the training grounds, but Genya did enjoy it when he cooked for her.

His thoughts came to a brutal halt when he realized Genya was crying.

David blinked. Had he done something wrong? He was always so bad at this stuff — he couldn’t count how many times he’d offended someone without meaning to, but Genya usually saw past his awkwardness and understood his meaning.

“Genya…” he said, hesitant, “I’m sorry, did I…”

“You’d want to marry me?” she sniffled, eyes cast down, tears gliding down her cheeks.

David was even more confused. Tamar’s advice hadn’t covered that part. “Yes. Of course.” Had that not been clear?

“Why?” Genya met his gaze. “Why would you… We haven’t even been together that long, you can’t know —”

Like the unknotting of a rope, suddenly, David understood. This was just like the imagined nichevo'ya. She was panicked, sure that the worst was yet to come, that she couldn’t be safe in her own home.

Softly, he cupped her cheeks, bringing her closer. He wished he could take some of the burden that weighed on her, carry it on his shoulders instead of hers, for once; wished he knew the right words to make her feel better, the perfect formula to soothe her fear. But this burden was Genya’s, and David was never good with words. All he could say was the truth.

“I agree that our romantic relationship has not been exceedingly long,” he admitted. A year only accounted for a twentieth of their age so far. Five percent of a life, and some change. “But I have been in love with you for seven years, five months, and twelve days. Our friendship is even older than that,” he pressed his forehead against hers, “and I’ve wanted to marry you from the first time you kissed me.”

His lips brushed hers, an echo of that day at the Spinning Wheel, when the bravest woman in the world had first chosen him.

“I realized at the time that this wasn’t a rational impulse,” he conceded, “so I waited to see how our companionship would grow. I believe I’ve now waited long enough to know. I feel at peace in your company, and I want to make you as happy as you make me.” He pulled back a little, retreating his hands. “Unless you do not want that, in which case I will respect—”

Before he could finish, Genya pulled him into a kiss — the dizzying, head-spinning kind of kiss he’d only ever experienced with her. When she kissed him like that, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, lips flush and panting, David’s usually overworking mind would quiet, snuffed out like the wick of a candle, replaced only by her . Soft hair, delicate skin, lips scarred and still wonderful, her scent a unique aroma he’d come to associate with peace, with home.

“Of course I want to,” she whispered against his lips, smiling coyly.

David kissed that smile, then her cheek, then her temple. “I’m relieved to hear that,” he sighed. “I’ll keep working on that proposal, then.”

Genya laughed, sweet and bright — David didn’t care much for music, but he could have listened to Genya’s laugh for hours. He tucked the ring back in the fabric and put it on the nightstand, where it wouldn’t get lost in the sheets, then took off his shoes and his shirt.

They lied together, Genya’s body half on top of his, snuggling close, as though any space between them might bring in the cold.

Genya brushed her fingers on David’s chest, tracing some patterns.

“So,” she said, her voice now clearer, more sure of herself — Genya in daylight, where the monsters couldn’t touch her. “What was that about seven years, five months, and twelve days?”

“Oh, hm…” David said. He could feel his face heat up, and felt irrationally glad for the brown of his skin, unlikely to show any hint of a blush.

Still, he told her the story of that day. Genya had visited the Fabrikator’s laboratory to make a new cosmetic for the queen. She’d been thirteen years old, and already so creative with her powers. At the time David had only reproduced what his masters had taught him as perfectly as he could, never trying to invent, to create.

But there had been Genya Safin, the first of her kind, inventing everything she did.

It wasn’t the first time they’d met, not even the first time they’d enjoyed each other’s company, but it was the first time David had watched her work. He hadn't even bothered saying hi (which he now realized had been rather rude), too eager to ask her question about her experiment. They’d talked, and when David had gone on a long tangent about his favourite way to colour glass, Genya hadn’t been bored or made fun of his enthusiasm, the way the other students usually did if they bothered to listen to him at all.

She’d listened with care and attention, and then she’d given him her opinion — smart, succinct. Perfect.

“How do you even remember the day this happened?” Genya laughed. “It was so long ago.”

David caressed her shoulder, a soothing, circular motion. “I remember everything, when it comes to you.”

“Cheesy,” she grinned.

“Maybe.” He felt his lips quirk in a smile of his own. “But it’s true.”

She rose up to look at him, her expression turning serious.

“I love you,” she said, the words like a promise. “For even longer than that.”

Gently, David took her wrist, and kissed her palm. “Now, let’s not make it a competition.”

“Wise. You know I’d win.”

“My dear,” he smiled against her hand, “I think I share this victory with you.”

[darkshinsou]

Baking Fails with Sugawara Koushi, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Tendou Satori, Miya Osamu, and Ushijima Wakatoshi

Warnings: You are depicted as a housewife but other then that, none, pure fluff, full of love, will give you a cavity from how sweet it is

a/n: This is dedicated to @sugaslittleangel ( this is the recipe I based the melonpan on)

Sugawara Koushi:

Okay

This guy is literal sweetheart

You could have burned down the kitchen and all he would say is, "Well, I was thinking of remodelling anyways" <3

But any who

You wanted to make your lover cookies

Homemade cookies

So, you get all the ingredients and start making the dough

You didn't do the measurements correctly though, and the dough is kind of clumpy

Thinking that it won't matter, you roll the dough into little balls and set it on to the baking sheet

When the timer rings, you pull then out excitedly, only to pout

Why do they look so... Ugly?

You wait for the cookies to cool a bit before taking a bite of it and-

Oh my god, that is the worst cookie you haver ever tasted

You spit it out and decide that you'll add more oil and butter to the batter

That didn't turn out well

After trying a couple more times, you are close to tears in the middle of the kitchen floor

Only for Koushi to walk in on the mess you have created

And you crying on the floor

He crouches next to you and asks gently, "What's wrong, Sugar?"

You look at him and point at the mess

"I failed to bake you cookies" You sob

Hoe looks at the cookies and each pan looks different to the next

And what does this sweet little big shit do?

He eats them

A cookie from every. Single. Pan

And he eats them like they are the tastiest cookies he has ever had

After he finishes, he leans down and wipes the tears from your face

"Don't cry, Sugar. They are delicious. I love you"

He kisses you on the head and helps you stand up

"Now, let's clean this up"

Sakusa Kiyoomi:

You are an absolute sweetheart to him

And he loves it

You always make his bentos for lunch

You also make sure to add his beloved umeboshi and he's always greatful

So, when you are feeling extra ambitious, you decide to make melonpan

Which was probably not the smartest idea since you have never baked bread before

So, you start with the cookie dough, which is easy enough, and then the bread dough

Now this

This is when you done fucked up

But you didn't even realize it at the time

Music playing, you singing along, you didn't realise that you put too much flour

So, when you put the bread in and take it out, you stare in disappointment

The bread didn't rise

You figure that okay, fine, I'll just do it again

And you do

But this time, it was burnt

What's worse, you hear the door close and Omi calling your name

You freak and immediately go to stop Omi from coming into the kitchen

But you are too late

And Omi walks in on the disaster you made of the kitchen

He looks around, curious and somewhat annoyed

"What's... Going on, y/n?"

You look at him, then look away and mutter, "I was trying to make you melonpan, but it didn't go well..."

He sighs, "Y/n, you made a mess. Please clean it up"

You look at him and when you see the annoyed look on his face, you suddenly start crying

His eyes widen and automatically he's pulling you into an embrace, shh-ing you and apologizing

"I- I'm sorry, y/n. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just- practice was extra hard today. And Bokuto wouldn't shut the fuck up. Please, forgive me?"

"I'm sorry, too, Omi. Let me clean this up and get started on dinner. You go take your shower and relax, yeah?"

He let's go of you and shakes his head

"We'll clean this together, than you can prepare dinner"

You smile fondly at him and get to work

Tendou Satori:

Okay, so we all know that Tendou is a sweetheart

Especially you

So when you decide that you want to return the favor, you go out and buy ingredients for brownies

And get started immediately after kissing him goodbye

Tying the pink apron around your waist, you pour the ingredients into the mixing bowl

After you think it's mixed, you set them into the pan and stick then in the oven

When the timer goes off, you snatch the brownies out of the oven

After letting the brownies cool, you take a knife and go to take a piece to try it

But the brownie won't cut

You struggle to just get that little piece and when you do get it, it's hard as a rock

You don't know what you did to fuck it up this badly, but Tendou wasn't supposed to come home anytime, so you figure that as long as you clean up and hide the failure that you call brownies

Too bad Tendou got out early from work and decided to surprise you

Singing your name as he closes the door, he quickly rids himself of his shoes and starts looking for you

You, on the other hand, are freaking out

You don't want Tendou to know about your failed attempt at baking

But then he walks into the kitchen and grins while humming out

"Oh? Did you make me brownies, paradise? Well, don't mode if I do!"

He grabs the piece that you had cut out and finishes it like it was the most delicious thing he has ever had

You stared at him, confused

"Didn't that hurt to chew?"

Tendou shakes his head and goes to get another piece

"It's delicious, Y/N! Thank you for spending time and doing this"

You smile softly and hug him from behind

"I love you, Satori."

Miya Osamu:

Okay, albeit, you can't cook for shit

And you definitely can't bake

But you still wanted to make something for your lover

So you decide to make something easy

And that would be chocolate chip cookies

You mix the ingredients in the boil and brush it off when the dough looks a little liquidy

Not a word but whatever-

After setting them in the oven and setting the timer, you clean up the mess you left

When the timer goes off, you hop to it, fetching them out of the oven and setting them down

And-

Why do they looking so... Disgusting??

You wait for the cookies to cool down a bit before tasting one

And it tasted fine, if not a little bit off

But... They were so ugly

You sigh sadly and almost jump out of your skin when you hear someone ask

"Why the sigh, Y/N?"

You turn around, for getting about the cookies and grin

"'Samu!! What are you doing home so early?"

He smiles at you and walks the rest of the way to you, placing a kiss on your head while explaining the reason

"I closed the shop early today. Why does it smell so good in here?"

You frown when remembering the cookies and tell him

"I tried making you cookies, but they didn't turn out like I thought they would..."

He hums in acknowledgement and grabs a cookie from the sheet, biting into it and smiling

"They taste delicious, Y/N. Thank you"

You look up at him and silently thank the Lord for giving you such a lovely husband

Ushijima Wakatoshi:

You both can't bake for crap

Like, you've tried and tried

But they wither come out burnt or disgusting

But you decided that you would try one more time

So you start to make the batter for cake

Angel cake, to be exact

But the one thing you forgot about is that the center piece can be removed

So, after pouring the batter into the pan, you grab it by the top

And the batter goes everywhere

You watch in utter horror as the batter forms a puddle

You quickly go to grab a towel to and bowl

Scooping the batter into the bowl, you hear the door open

And now you are now full on panicking and ready to cry

Ushijima, on the other hand, is calling out your name and were you are

He searches the living room and bedroom before figuring out that you are in the kitchen

And that's were he finds you, scooping up batter while tears fall from your eyes

"I'm I'm really sorry, Toshi." You hiccuped and he stares in shock before kneeling down to stop you

"Go get cleaned up, sweetheart. Let me do this, okay?"

You nod your head and head towards the bathroom as he cleans up the mess

You change into shorts and his sweatshirt, wanting nothing more than to snuggle into his arms

He walks out when he's finished cleaning and finds you curled on the couch

"Sweetheart, I'm going to take a shower real quickly and than we can get takeout, watch some movies, okay?"

You nod and apologize one more time

"It's okay, honey. Just relaxed. I'll be out soon."

2 hours later and you guys are cuddling on the couch with your head on his chest

He was stroking your hair as you slept and he couldn't have asked for a better wife

[yostresswritinggirl]

Weight of Living

Vibe.

Perhaps today was not your day, and it hasn't been yours for the past week either. In the end of it all when the weight of living brings you to tired tears, he would be there to tell you it will be alright.

Pairings -> Zhongli x Reader

Word Count -> 1161

Themes -> Comfort fic bitch, angst of course, but we're gonna get fluffy for arc reasons

Series -> #SojournerSpecials (Event Masterlist)

Warnings -> Mean brain, depression, and all that comes with it

You've been silently struggling for the past few days.

Alone with your thoughts, of a heavy dread clinging to your chest in days when the silence lets your mind stray, you find it harder to get up in the morning. The weight in your chest and on your shoulder appeared randomly, and you hoped that it will pass just the same way. Sudden, like a bubble's burst.

But it didn't.

And that's where the problem lied.

Daily you walk through your day hoping to fight off what's inside your head in a battle of wait. You don't know what's wrong, what's wrong with you, what's wrong in you; you don't know how to deal with it this time.

And everyday of hoping it leaves turns into accumulated weight, dread and exhaustion.

It started scaring you that maybe you're not gonna feel better ever again.

Today is your breaking point. It had you shedding tears that wouldn't come out despite your desperation to let them flow.

Waking up to get ready for work, you accidentally broke your favorite mug, the only one matching with Zhongli's (the only one he uses as he's usually cradling a teacup). The shards managed to nip at your skin too, making it bleed more than you expected it to be.

You stood there for a second, staring at the mess and blood before you heard heavy footsteps approach from the corridor of your humble home.

It didn't hurt but it must be due to your numbness, as you hurriedly cleaned up both the broken glass and your small wound. "I heard something break from the living room, are you alright, dearest?"

"It's all cleaned up, don't worry." You managed to smile this one off, not wanting him to worry.

The rest of the day you were running errands for work, which is totally not part of your job description. It felt unfair that despite being one of the hardworking people in the workplace, the extra work was still placed on your shoulders while the rest slack around.

"What do you mean it's not there?! It should be there, go back and use your eyes!"

"But I already-" before you could finish, you held your tongue and went back to the storage house to fetch the box your boss asked you to retrieve.

Three, four, five times you checked the whole place from top to bottom.

So many times that your head started spinning.

Defeated and nauseous, you made your way back to the building. Not before seeing the box you've been looking for just behind the door this whole time.

The look of condescension on the man you call your boss disgusts you so much you really wanted to punch it off of him.

And the worst case was the simplest one, when you thought you'd be free from the bad luck of today and be given the liberty to just lie in bed. There was an obvious frown on your face as you gripped your bag's strap closer. It felt heavier than before.

Your sluggish steps almost made you slip when a force knocks you from the side, a shoulder bumping you as the person responsible just walks off, "Hey, can't you watch your fucking step!" You yelled with unbottled fury as you whirled around, tired yet ready to tell off the rude person -

When you were met with the face of a child in the brink of tears.

"How dare you swear at my child like that!" A woman obscures your view as you were pushed by the shoulder. Your mouth, dry and hoarse, mumbled desperate apologies as the image of fear in the child's eyes imprinted itself into your mind.

You're horrible.

You're a monster.

You're so stupid.

"Get out of here, you pest to Liyue-"

A pair of gloved hands cupped your wet cheeks gently, coaxing you out of your flashback to stare at amber ones. When the tears started flowing, you have no clue, but they won't stop even in the view of the man you didn't want to see right now.

Didn't want you to see you like this right now.

"I have been calling for your name but you do not seem to hear me. Are you sure you are alright, dearest?" You nodded your head in a vain attempt of a lie yet your eyes betrayed you as it let out more tears. Zhongli smiles as he easily wipes away the tears with his thumbs. "There is no need to lie now, pour it all on me and I will listen."

Your silent waterfall turned into sobs and hiccups, the words coming out as a blabbering mess yet he nods to let you know he understands.

Fingers gripped around his wrist as you told him about everything; about today, about yesterday, about last week.

Your sigh was heavy as you find the words to say of how tired and exhausted you are from all the burden you're feeling. You've done stupid things, said foolish things, and you're scared that one day you'd be eaten by the heavy feeling. That it will never stop. Until, until-

"It's alright, it's okay. You're not a demon, there's a reason you behaved in that way."

You snapped your head up to face him fully, words at the tip of your tongue to counter -

"And I believe that you would see a better day, it's alright."

Coaxing your head with a hand on your back, you muffled your sobs and cries on his suit-covered chest. Finally letting everything out, all the tears that wouldn't flow and the choked sobs you kept hidden. Through this whole experience he was patient and comforting, stroking your hair the way you've always liked and even subtly swaying side to side to lull you more.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, the both of you started slow dancing in the dark. His right hand finding yours as he guides your sluggish steps, your tears subsiding to sniffles and sobs into tired giggles. Perhaps it was distraction that he was good at in making your tears stop, an unexpected breakthrough.

"You're a human and you've made a few mistakes. Just human. It's alright, it's okay-"

"I'm alright, I'm okay..." Zhongli's soft smile is as comforting and reminiscent of the warmth of the sun. Silently urging with a nod, his arm around your waist pulls you closer, "I'm a human, and I've made a few mistakes."

His ever-growing smile had your lips finally break into one too. Even if just a little, the weight in your chest, the weight on your shoulders ease up for another day.

Your fears may still be there but he's with you now, next to you and guiding you.

"If it is too heavy, do not forget that I am here to help you carry the burden. Together, for I am here now, to fight off what's inside your head."

You'll see a better day.

I finally wrote my comfort fic, been feeling not poggers lately so I whipped it up :) I hope it helps to those who needs it, even tho I just realized it's a totally different writing style what the fu-

[sapphicquill]

TAZ Balance: the truth will set you free

(ao3 link!)

Rating: Teen 

Characters: Taako, Kravitz, Magnus

Wordcount: 2942

“You’re fuming, dear.” 

Taako turns to look at Kravitz when the reaper speaks, trying not to let the thin frown fall off of his face at the sight of his uncharacteristically smug dead boyfriend. From his spot as Taako’s personal body pillow, Magnus laughs quietly.

“I can’t believe he convinced you to teach him this shit,” Taako says with an exaggerated huff. The elf crosses his arms tightly across his chest, sticking his chin up haughtily to hammer home his petulence. Magnus laughs again, the vibrations of it rumbling through Taako’s back like a purr. Taako very courteously does not throw an elbow backwards into the fighter’s stomach, despite how much he would enjoy doing just that. Kravitz lets out a hum, smirk not quite leaving his unfairly handsome face. 

“It’s not my fault Angus got curious about multiclassing as a bard,” the reaper finally says. And, as much as Taako was loath to acknowledge it, Kravitz is right. Taako groans theatrically and pointedly does not actually respond like an adult, because fuck that. 

Angus had approached Taako after one of their lessons together--much less frequent than they once were, before Lucas had gotten the idea to start up a small magic school, but Angus seemed content to return to his first (and clearly superior) tutor whenever the chance presented itself. But instead of asking for some sage wisdom or deeply insightful advice from Taako himself, Angus had asked for confirmation that Kravitz had been a bard before becoming a reaper, then begged for Taako to bring him along for their next lesson. 

Kravitz had been over the moon when Taako begrudgingly explained the situation, and the reaper wasted absolutely no time in devising a lesson plan for the boy detective. Taako had to work especially hard to keep from swooning over his boyfriend’s enthusiasm and instead sulked to their other boyfriend about the cruelty of life. (Magnus had been very little help, the bastard. Taako left with a disgruntled whine when the fighter started theorizing on how to convince Ango that learning some rogue skills could be helpful too, the absolute traitor.) 

“You want to know what I think?” Kravitz asks after another moment of silence. Taako frowns as he finally lets his gaze meet the reaper’s eyes directly. 

“Not particularly, but something tells me you’re going to keep talking anyway, you dick.”

“You’re jealous.”

Taako feels himself freeze for half a second before he can pull himself together. Damn Kravitz for knowing him so well. Damn him and Magnus for making him feel comfortable enough to even let himself be read that easily. Damn them both.

“Oh fuck right off, you’re full of shit,” the elf tosses back almost automatically through gritted teeth. 

“Hey, play nice,” Magnus teases, poking Taako in the side. The unexpected jab sends a fluttering shockwave through the startled wizard, who squeaks before he can catch himself. Kravitz continues to look on smugly, not breaking eye contact with Taako as he scoots further up the bed and closer to the other two. 

“You’re very precious when you get all wound up like this, love,” he murmurs. Taako shifts, instinct telling him to pull away and hide, to clam up and put up an even harder front. A quiet voice that sounded worryingly sweet and comforting tells him to just come clean to the both of his boyfriends. It wasn’t like they didn’t know he was secretly a soft, if somewhat emotionally-deficient, sap. Magnus had definitely figured it out somewhere along that first hundred years, and Kravitz was frighteningly perceptive.

A sudden weight around his waist distracts Taako from the beginning of whatever bullshit emotional spiral he’s about to fall into, his body automatically pulling against the sudden restriction. Though the warmth of Magnus’ arms encircling him from behind sends an innate sense of calm through him, the elf nearly pulls something in his neck as he whips his head toward the human because Magnus, what the actual hell. Magnus has the decency to look a bit sheepish, but resolutely does not let go. 

“Mags…” Taako growls, narrowing his eyes and trying to look intimidating despite the growing fluttering of excitement in his stomach. He’s quickly figuring out Magnus’ plan and is now desperate to not show his hand because fuck, this got different, fast. This somehow turned into Taako goading his boys into absolutely wrecking him for being a stubborn piece of shit, which he hadn’t even considered as an outcome when this mock argument had started. Now, however, his mind is three steps ahead, already craving the feeling of his partners’ touches driving him insane.

Because here’s the thing—Taako, maybe, kinda, sorta actually likes getting tickled. He absolutely would never say as much, even under pain of death (and he is really familiar with how  fucking painful death can be), and the only other being in the multiverse that probably knows is Lup because, duh, twin sister or whatever. So it was always imperative Taako never let on in any way he didn’t exactly hate it when Magnus and Kravitz, whether alone or together, decide to tickle him stupid. He would probably implode from the embarrassment—and what a dumb fucking way to go after everything else. No, that wouldn’t do at all. 

Thus, it’s second nature for the elf to throw out menacing glares and cutting threats, which is exactly what he does as he feels Magnus flex his fingers and rest them at the center of his stomach. He’s unable to resist flinching at the sudden light touch to his bare midriff, though—damn, why did he and Lup convert the majority of his wardrobe into crop tops? 

Movement at the other end of the bed catches his attention, so he redirects back to Kravitz, face pinched and pout sufficiently exaggerated. 

“It’s quite alright, Taako, really,” the reaper says, affecting the tone he usually saves for puppies and small children, the absolute ass, “You’re allowed to want to be Angus’ favorite.”

“Shut up, I do not—” 

The remainder of Taako’s protest is swallowed by a sharp gasp as Magnus draws his fingers across Taako’s stomach with a quick flick

“Do you really think you’re in any position to be bitchy right now?” the human says, smile evident despite his gruff tone. Taako feels his ear twitch as Magnus’s breath skates across his skin and it takes every ounce of concentration he has to not shiver or let out a breathy half-laugh. Instead the elf remains as still as possible, frown almost ridiculously exaggerated and eyes narrow slits focused on Kravitz. The reaper adopts an over-the-top pout—no doubt meant to mock Taako’s own expression—and draws ever closer to Taako and Magnus. 

“Magnus, maybe you could help me convince our beloved to be more honest, hm?” 

The words have barely left Kravitz’s mouth when Taako feels Magnus begin to slowly drag his fingertips across his exposed stomach. Tiny zings of tickly sensation burst across Taako’s skin like low-level electricity and somehow keeping still and silent is the hardest thing Taako’s ever done in his life. He can’t, however, keep the warm bubbling feeling of anticipation and excitement from flooding his entire body, and that, of course, makes keeping still even fucking harder. 

Magnus’ fingers trail lightly across Taako’s abdomen before slowly gliding up his sides. Without really meaning to, Taako squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will himself into a trance by force. This clearly amuses both of his boyfriends, as their joint chuckles echo in stereo in the sudden darkness. Taako feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, one wrong move and he’ll cascade off the side and plunge ten thousand feet—

Then Magnus’s devilish touch reaches the top of his ribs and the dam breaks. 

A steady stream of hiccuping giggles pours from Taako as Magnus gently skitters light tickles across one of Taako’s absolute worst spots and even without looking, the elf can tell that his boyfriends have both got gleeful expressions on their stupid fucking faces. He squirms, trying in vain to block out the torturous sensation of Magnus’ fingers or escape their attack altogether, but that just seems to encourage the fighter. Feather-light scritches instantly turn into fast, fluttering pinches and quick vibrating prods and Taako would be embarrassed about how quickly he dissolves into full-fledged laughter if he wasn’t so busy absolutely losing his mind. 

“Ready to admit you secretly adore Angus yet, love?” Kravitz asks from far too close, Taako can tell he’s almost pressed up against his chest, but fucking of course he isn’t. He can practically hear the mischievous grin in the reaper’s voice when he shakes his head. 

“You leave me no choice, then.” 

Over the sounds of his increasingly frantic laughter, Taako can hear Kravitz speaking the incantation for Zone of Truth, and he’s sure Krav’s crimson eyes are sparkling with mirth. The unique sensation of enchantment magic washing over him barely phases the elf—he’s too preoccupied with Magnus’ deft hands flitting up and down his ribs to really pay it much mind. Taako squeezes his eyes even tighter and attempts to focus on resisting the truth spell, gasping around his laughter, trying to push past the way his nerves feel like they’ve been set alight so he can focus—

And then promptly fails his save. 

Of course he fails his save. How could he possibly concentrate on resisting a Zone of Truth from a powerful ex-bard-turned-Grim-Reaper with Magnus’ fucking fingers skittering across his abdomen, drawing squeaky, desperate laughter from him like water from a well? 

“Now, come on, dove, be honest with us.” 

And then Kravitz is tickling him too, on top of concentrating on a fucking spell, his nimble musician’s fingers skittering ruthlessly across Taako’s hips, and it’s impossible to think about anything other than the fluttering in his stomach, the laughter forcing its way out of his lungs, the pleasant fuzziness already clouding his mind. He can’t even remember Krav’s question, really. Taako’s brain feels like it’s been filled with cotton (but like, in a good way) and he can barely string two thoughts together before giving up thinking altogether. 

“Admit it, Taako, tell us the truth,” Kravitz purrs directly into Taako’s ear and even that tickles like hell, and between that and the two pairs of hands currently wreaking ticklish havoc on him, it feels like every wire in Taako’s brain is crossing simultaneously. He wants this to end and also never wants this to end, why can’t his boyfriends wreck him like this constantly, it’s not fair—

“Tell us, Ko, come on!” Magnus whines, seemingly trying to match Taako’s usual petulant tone as he drills his fingers into the wizard’s underarms and knocks his laughter up at least ten decibels, and that’s what pushes Taako to open his big, stupid mouth. He means to say something about the dumb boy detective, he really does, but instead all he can think about is Kravitz and Magnus making him scream and laugh and thrash around with teasing words and fluttering fingers and, well—

“I—I—” Taako’s voice breaks on a laugh, brain going a million miles an hour and also stuck in the mud simultaneously.

“Yes dear, that’s it, come on, out with it,” Kravitz says while rubbing incessantly ticklish circles into Taako’s sides. And that finally pushes an answer out of Taako, who manages to push through his laughter long enough to speak. 

“I fucking like being tickled, okay?—Shit—!”

Suddenly, the two pairs of hands on Taako’s skin still, and as his laughter slowly dies down, the full impact of what he’d just actually admitted to hits the elf like a cartload of bricks. Fuck. Shit.

Weirdly, instead of instant fiery panic, Taako is filled with a sense of...calm? It’s like someone hit pause on the entire fucking universe. Taako keeps his eye closed and resolutely doesn’t think about what just happened; doesn’t think about anything, other than a burning sense of mortification and the deepest desire for a hole to open up and swallow him up. 

“Nope, okay, that’s—I didn’t—no, fuck this,” Taako mumbles as he sits up, easily breaking out of Magnus’ hold. With eyes still closed he leaps up from the large bed and has half a mind to burn a Teleportation spell to get as far away from his boyfriends as possible before feeling a cool hand wrap around his wrist. Taako can identify the feel of Kravitz’s touch almost alarmingly well, and normally he sinks into it without more than a few grumbled faux-complaints. Here and now, the wizard doesn’t instantly pull his arm from Kravitz’s grasp like he desperately wants to, but he doesn’t move toward him either. Instead, he keeps his eyes closed and pretends he’s literally anywhere else. 

“Taako, wait,” and that’s Magnus’ voice, the one that always makes a small part of Taako melt because it’s so full of genuine love and affection and care and fuck, he has to open his eyes and face the two men he actually definitely loves, shit. He braces himself, not exactly sure what expressions might adorn the faces of his boyfriends but he’s prepared for the worst. 

The first thing Taako sees when he opens his eyes is, unsurprisingly, Kravitz, as the reaper is closer to him. What does surprise Taako is the look Kravitz is giving him. The other man looks—apologetic? 

“Taako, I’m so sorry,” Kravitz starts, and Taako feels his heart stutter a bit, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I should never have cast Zone of Truth and forced you to tell us that.”

And that—

That’s not what Taako had expected to hear come out of Kravitz’s mouth. He’d more or less thought, at the very least, he’d get laughed at. Made fun of. Belittled. Shamed. This is—far from all of that. 

“I—what?” 

If it had been any other time, Taako would have congratulated Krav for actually rendering him fucking speechless, because that’s a rarity. As it is, Taako can’t do much of anything aside from gape, gaze not leaving Kravitz’s crimson eyes. 

“The spell, it didn’t compel you but it forces you to be truthful, and you clearly weren’t ready to tell either of us that you—” 

At this, Kravitz seems to pause, looking like he’s attempting to phrase his words as carefully as possible while still turning over this new information in his mind. Luckily, Magnus, as he always seems able to, picks up right where their Grim Reaper leaves off. 

“You’re totally waiting for us to roast you or something, aren’t you?” 

Fuck, has Magnus always been this perceptive? Taako could have sworn he was oblivious as all hell but no, this is the man he’s known for over a century, of course Magnus knows all his tells. 

“Well, we’re not going to,” the fighter barrels forward, always fucking rushing in, and Taako isn’t sure whether he wants to dive back onto the bed or Misty Step to the front porch to call Lup on the Stone of Farspeech and just scream. 

“Why would we? It’s not like you’ve told us something weird or bad or anything,” Kravitz adds, finally out of his own head. He sounds a little frantic, like he desperately needs Taako to believe him and fantasy Christ, Taako loves him for it. 

“Honestly, it’s kind of adorable,” Magnus adds. Taako finally cocks his head enough to meet the human’s eyes and he’s known Magnus long enough to tell when he’s lying. 

He’s absolutely not lying. 

The sense of relief that Taako expects to flood through him comes in waves. His heart is still beating a million miles an hour (which he hadn’t even noticed, fuck) and it still feels like he could cook a five course meal using only the heat collected on his face, but his desire to run and hide and sulk is retreating, and the space between Magnus and Kravitz is looking more and more inviting by the second. 

It’s the most natural thing in the entirety of the planar system for Taako to lower himself back onto the bed and resume his position lounging against Magnus. Quiet descends on the room and it’s warm, comfortable. 

“We should probably have a real conversation about this later,” Kravitz says, and Taako surprises himself by humming in agreement rather than groaning in protest. 

“Later,” he concedes, and then Magnus is shifting again and Taako’s about to grouse about how a moving pillow is a pretty shitty pillow when—

“So if you actually like getting tickled—”

An involuntary shudder shoots down Taako’s back at this, at Magnus’ voice curling around that word, fuck, and suddenly the great brute’s hands are back on Taako’s ribs and his fingers are slowly tracing Taako’s skin and it’s like a bolt of lightning through his entire consciousness. 

“Then you won’t mind if Krav and I get back to work, huh?”

Despite quickly being overcome by tittering giggles, Taako can sense a voiceless conversation happening over him, and then Kravitz is back in his space and his hands are inching up Taako’s thighs, squeezing and stroking lightly as they go. 

“Yes, Magnus is right—you never actually told us what we really wanted to hear, love,” Kravitz purrs, mischief and affection so clear on his face that there’s no room for Taako’s anxiety to even attempt to convince him of something horrible.  

So instead of spiraling into a pit of despair, Taako revels in the wide grin pulling at his lips, savors the electric sensations rippling across his nerve endings, and laughs. 

[jeonqqin]

man up. [m] | pt. 5

h. jisung x reader | netflix rom-com au

— ❝Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?❞

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

CONTAINS: brothers best friend au, teen rom-com au, sorta crack fic, love triangle au, college au

WARNING: future smut, language, very brief mention of past child abuse (they were pushed and got hurt), panic attack

a/n: I have no idea how this chapter got this real? THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A STUPID SILLY FIC

▸ request

CHAPTERS:  01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 +

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song 

© jeonqqin 2020

—UNEDITED

“Just fucking leave me alone Jisung.”

“Hyunae, hold on—”

Jisung sighed, his palm rubbing harshly into his eye to soothe the sting of oncoming tears. 

He was both devastated and relieved after his night with Hyunae. Granted, he hadn’t gotten any sleep whatsoever last night, but it was done, he really did it. Minho said he didn’t have the balls, but he fucking did, so fuck Minho. 

“No! Just… get out.”

But there was the other side of his mind that was screaming at him for ruining a relationship that he put so much time into. It kept asking him why. Why did he do it? What pushed him to end it? 

The true answer stared him in the face, but just as he had done for his whole like, he denied it. 

“I knew this was going to happen anyway. I was just waiting for you to open your fucking eyes, Jisung.”

It had nothing to do with you. Why would it? 

There was no romantic feeling between you and him, none at all. So there would be no reason for him to break up with his girlfriend on your accord. But he couldn’t ignore the way you ran out of the diner, and how terrified he had been all night with the absence of you. You hadn’t called him or Felix to let them know that you were fine, so of course he was worried, pacing back and forth around his girlfriend’s dorm until she snapped at him. It was possibly the worst timing for them to get into a fight, but it was also an opportunity for Jisung to just say it. 

He wanted to break up. 

He wouldn’t be quieted or controlled anymore. 

He was no longer going to listen to her bicker with his friends over the smallest things. 

Jisung had officially grown a backbone. 

And that had nothing to do with the comment Hyunae made after you left. A comment that she had no place to make. She was the one in the wrong that night, but he was the one being scolded and cursed at. It was always him that was at fault in the end, no matter what happened or how it happened. It was always stupid Han Jisung. 

Stupid stupid Han Jisung.

To say that his dormmate was surprised to see him after months of never sleeping in his assigned bed would’ve been an understatement. But thankfully Haechan didn’t ask any questions about why Jisung’s eyes were puffy or what he was doing showing up so late at night. Jisung respected that about the normally eccentric boy. 

That night he hadn’t been plagued with nightmares of his now ex-girlfriend, but a memory of his childhood, leaving his chest feeling heavy the next morning. He remembered how scorching hot the summer sun was on the back of his neck as he sat idle on the steps of his best friend’s house. He could hear the screaming and yelling of Minho’s cracking voice, another—deeper—baritone booming over it. Jisung has always wondered how Minho could be so brazen, staring into the eyes of every new man that walked into his house. 

Minho never really talked about it, but Jisung had picked up enough over the years to know that your dad was no longer in the picture, and that caused some conflicts between Minho and the men that he thought was trying to fill that position. Jisung never met your father, as he was barely six years old and hadn’t yet met Minho, but he grew to learn how much Minho idolized the absent man. 

Jisung remembered the loud thud before the crash of something breaking. He also remembered the way his neck heated and legs trembled. But he would do as promised and wait for his friend to walk out the door so they could hop on their bikes and just get away. Minho always asked Jisung to wait for him while he planned a confrontation. 

It was taking longer than usual.

Jisung met Lee Minho when he was eight years old, during an attempt to catch frogs in a small pond in the neighborhood. His family had just moved into the area and Jisung was too shy to really approach any of the children in the houses around him so he opted to play on his own. His brother was too old to play with him, and he honestly didn’t mind. 

He got used to it and learned to entertain himself. 

Minho approached all high and mighty, asking why Jisung was trying to catch the frogs in his special frog hunting spot, but was cut short by the smaller boy apologizing profusely and stumbling over his feet to stand. Only to find himself landing on his ass and soaking his green cargo shorts in mud. Minho had barked a laugh, his mouth opening to say something, but slamming closed as a frog jumped up and collided with Jisung’s cheek, nearly scaring the life out of the already petrified boy. Minho had then jumped into the pond with giggles falling out of his lips as Jisung laughed alongside him despite the tears falling down his face. 

The night ended with your mother peeling leeches from both of the crying boys, and you making them a poorly executed cup of hot (lukewarm at best) chocolate to get rid of the sting. 

Why you thought that was going to help—Jisung didn’t know. 

Though, Minho still drank it in one breath and thanked you for making the pain go away with uneven sniffs. That was the first moment Jisung witnessed Minho suppress his feelings on your accord, and it certainly hadn’t been the last. Jisung didn’t blame his new friend at the time though, since he found himself eager to gulp down the drink to witness the same toothy smile you sent to your brother—but only directed at him. 

It was worth the small stomach ache. 

“Don’t touch him! Don’t you fucking dare touch my son.” 

The voice or your mother rang clear as a bell in Jisung’s head, the usual calming tone was missing and urgency was all he could hear at that moment. The air only read “get away” as he continued to listen carefully to what was happening behind the closed door. He had listened to many fights, but even after knowing Minho for three whole years none of them had escalated beyond shouting. 

Jisung’s instincts tried to kick him into gear, but he still sat there, his loyalty outweighing his better judgement.

The argument shifted between your mother and the man, Minho’s voice suddenly eerily absent. Jisung felt his heart pulse for his friend, his mind wandering to only the worst scenarios and his eyes welling up with irritating tears. But his gaze stayed unwavering, locked on the swaying tire swing he and Minho had put up themselves earlier that summer. 

The door swung open, letting the voices be heard clear from the kitchen. Jisung’s head swung around carefully to watch as Minho rushed outside, his face bright red, almost unnaturally so. He left the door open, not even bothering to close it behind him. 

“—he tripped. I didn’t know he was going to fall, honey. I’m sorry—”

“If you ever lay another hand on my child, you will never see the light of day again.” Your mother’s voice threatened, plaguing Jisung’s young mind. 

“I would never purposefully hurt Minho—”

Jisung had shut the door, turning on his heel to follow his friend. 

Minho had been fuming. His cheeks red—though one more red than the other, but Jisung wouldn’t once ask about it—and drenched with fresh tears, his hand furiously whipping it all away. 

Jisung watched as Minho punched and kicked at the trees and flower beds in the backyard, making a mess of the once tidy space. But he just let his friend go, not saying one word to the boy. Jisung knew that he would be acting like a baby in Minho’s situation and was baffled by his friend’s strength. Minho was Jisung’s hero back then, and he sometimes missed that feeling when he took the time to reminisce. 

It was only when Minho was somewhat calmed down, that you walked out to check on your brother. Your eyes were rimmed with red and your hands fisted the fabric of your shirt. 

Every fight, you were always there to catch it all; a bystander like Jisung. 

And despite his state—a steadily swelling cheek and a darkening welt on his forehead—Minho still pulled you into his arms to comfort your hiccuping form. He denied every worry and question that fell from your wobbly lips, and Jisung had a sense of dejavu each time. 

It had been a rinse and repeat process for years; Minho would cause trouble and get into fights, and he would console you each and every time you showed any worry. 

Neither you or Minho spoke about it, but Jisung knew that it was only Minho’s way of trying to protect you. With your dad gone, Minho moved to fill that gap, just trying too hard without a complete understanding of the line he shouldn’t cross. 

Jisung had no idea why he had that dream, but the heavy weight in his chest began to push him in wanting to see Minho.

You couldn’t tell if you were having a good morning or not. 

The date with Chan had gone incredibly well, that was for sure. He was sweet, such a gentleman, and the time you spent with him wasn’t at all boring by any means. He was absolutely perfect. 

So why were you panicking?

Of course, there was the initial fear when you woke up in the morning to see that your little make out in his car wasn’t so little after all, and that your neck looked as if someone had tried to maul you. And the more makeup you piled over it barely made a difference, so the fact that you told Chan that you would go over to the apartment in the morning so he could show you the track he had put so much effort into, wasn’t exactly as exciting as it had been last night. 

At the apartment you could run into Minho—or Jisung. 

God, you completely forgot about Jisung. 

You hadn’t seen him in a few days for classes, the small break in your school schedule being a true blessing, and you suddenly felt guilt crawl up into your chest. The situation with Hyunae wasn’t necessarily his fault, and you realized that after a few days to yourself. They were dating, of course they were going to act like a couple. You were simply being a big baby about a bit of PDA. 

He had a girlfriend. 

Right, why were you so worried about a few hickies when he had a girlfriend?

Why were you even bringing up that fact that he had a girlfriend when that didn’t even matter?

Why were you still so terrified that you had visible evidence of Chan’s lips on your neck when Jisung wasn’t in love with you and you weren’t in love with Jisung?

Why did you feel so guilty? 

Staring at the purple marks on your neck had your mind flickering back to the moment when you first saw Jisung with the same little round spots on his own collar. Back in your first years of secondary school when Jisung basically lived at your house, him and Minho stopped paying much attention to you. It was a phase in your brother's life where he was getting into too many fights with his peers, and spending less time with you. And when you were that age you were pretty butt-hurt about it. 

Jisung and Minho had just returned back from a party, one that you hadn’t received an invitation to—not that Minho would allow you to go anyway—and they trampled up the stairs at two in the morning without a care in the world or a second thought about you nor your mother that were trying to sleep. How your mom managed to stay sleeping that night was beyond you.

And with your brother’s room right next door to yours, it was impossible to get back to sleep, their loud excitement too much for the thin wall between you to block out. So, you peeled your covers off your body and stomped into their room to give them a deadly glare and a good smack to the backs of their heads. 

Grumpily, Minho apologized and promised to be quieter, but Jisung simply smirked and tugged you down onto his lap to coo at how cute your puffy and tired face was. It was around the same time of your life when Jisung learned to push back his anxieties and began gaining self confidence, since that was something he desperately lacked when he was younger. But with confidence came the flirting. 

He chalked it up to “sibling like teasing” but you couldn’t deny the massive crush you had on the boy back then. So the feeling of his skinny arms wrapping tightly around you and his (then blonde) fringe ticking your cheeks, was almost too much for your poor heart to take. 

And then you saw the red spots lining his neck and momentarily froze, confusion haunting your train of thought and throwing you for a loop. You weren’t stupid, you knew exactly what those were, but for some reason, it didn’t occur to you that Jisung would ever get them. 

But there they were and it had definitely punched a small hole in your heart that night. 

You were all adults now though, surely they knew that you were bound to grow up sooner or later. It would be ridiculous if they decided to throw a fit now, right? You were in college for god sake, you were allowed to have a boyfriend.

Or—a Chan. Whatever you and Chan were, you were allowed to have it dammit.

So why was your hand shaking as it lifted to grab the door knob?

Amongst your inner turmoil you hadn’t heard the heavy step of Jisung walking up the stairs. He was so exhausted that he hadn’t even noticed you until he was scaling the last few steps of the three story apartment complex. He paused for a moment as he watched you hesitate at the door, your eyes glued down on your hand. 

A sudden wave of so many emotions rushed through him at the sight of you in a baggy sweater that fell around your thighs, the black spandex of your shorts peeking out from underneath. Even from behind, Jisung could tell that you were tired, your hair all messy and cute. His heart swelled in his chest. 

Of course you would be the one to dissolve all of his stress. He should’ve known. 

With a deep sigh, Jisung felt himself smile. He ascended the last few steps and sidled up behind you, eyes heavy from lack of sleep. You still had yet to notice his presence, and that had him chuckling under his breath. Your obliviousness was going to get you killed. 

Jisung slid his arms around your waist, only feeling you flinch for a second before you were relaxing back into his chest. He didn’t have room for any confusion, as he was too elated to actually hold you again. He couldn’t remember the last time he could just walk up to you and grab you without there being a fuss. Jisung missed you. 

Jisung took the opportunity to lean his jaw against your shoulder and tuck his face into the fabric of your sweater, only holding you closer. Your body wash had always been his favorite, not too intense that it had him nauseous, but sweet and soft enough to tempt him into placing a line of gentle pecks along the expanse of your skin—

That settled it, the break up was officially driving him insane. 

With a sigh and a curt laugh, you closed your eyes and leaned your head to the other side. Jisung’s eyes widened for those few moments when the invitation was right there in front of him, and some sick part of him wanted to scatter marks over the soft plane of your skin. In his daze, he wondered what kind of noises you would make if he bit down and made a mess of your pretty collar; if you would beg and whine or release little breathless gasps. He was right there—so damn close. 

His tongue ran along his bottom lip at the thought. 

What was happening to him?

“I’m sorry for just standing out here. I must look crazy.” You breathed, hands wrapping around his forearms. 

Jisung huffed a laugh, nudging your shoulder with his chin, just enough to shift your sweater off to the side. “No, you—”

Both of you froze at the same moment—complete different reasons why. 

The warm body behind you wasn’t Chan. 

Your mind was screaming at you to get away, telling you that you shouldn’t feel so comfortable with Han Jisung pressed intimately against your back. With his hands gripping your waist and chin resting on your shoulder where some other man's lips had kissed you, where Chan had—

Jisung saw the angry purple bruises before he could process the rest of what he wanted to say. They had been hidden behind the strategic collar of your sweater, and he suddenly felt a wave of an emotion that hadn’t risen to the surface for years climb up into his chest. 

He quickly unraveled himself from you, face flushing red as he took multiple steps backwards, his back colliding harshly against the door of the apartment across from Minho’s. Jisung couldn’t care less about the sudden pain that rocketed up his spine, his attention locked onto the massacre on your clavicle. 

Speechless, Jisung could feel his chest tightening and breathing quicken within his ribcage. Everything was so much worse than it had been before. At least he had a form of relief from breaking things off with Hyunae, now all he could feel was the crippling weight of your eyes on him. He felt completely exposed and dejected.

He couldn’t breathe. 

“Ji—” You attempted to lean forward and grab his arm, brows pulled into a worried frown. 

He felt stupid. 

“I—shit. I’m sorry,” he whispered, shrinking away from your reaching hand and hurrying past you to shove his extra key into the lock, twisting it open faster than he had ever done in his life. It was a miracle that he could even get the key into the hole with how badly his hands were shaking. 

Stupid stupid Jisung. 

Jisung barely registered the confused concern that flashed across Changbin’s face as he sped past him, his sights set solely on the last room on the left. Slamming the door behind him, Jisung couldn’t help but feel like he was dying, his chest aching and body suddenly warm. 

“Sung?” A groggy Minho lifted from under his sheets, his chest bare and bedhead wild. “What the hell?”

“I’m so stupid,” Jisung rasped, tugging at the collar of his shirt and collapsing back against Minho’s desk chair. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

“What happened?”

But Jisung could barely hear anything over the sound of his heart beating, the echoing drum in his skull. 

Minho frowned, lifting from his bed and pulling a shirt over his head in order to cross over to his best friend. Jisung looked absolutely exhausted, heavy-lidded eyes staring out at nothing as his hands raked through his gelled hair, ruining the style he had probably spent his whole morning on. 

It had been years since Minho had seen Jisung in such a state. There had been brief moments where Jisung got uncomfortable going to crowded parties or big lectures, but there was nothing small about how he was acting now. 

A brief memory of a crying boy covered in mud and soaked to the bone flashed through his head. 

Minho sighed, rubbing a palm over his face as he took a seat on the floor beside the desk chair that Jisung had claimed. Minho’s hand moved up to pat Jisung’s knee, “Well, Sung… Let’s get over this bitch together, okay?”

You felt your face pale as you took a slow step into the apartment, closing the door behind you. The look of fear that Jisung sent you was heartbreaking, his eyes wide and jaw clenched so hard that you knew for sure that it had to hurt. 

“The hell happened out there?” Changbin asked, tone stern but confused. 

You cringed, feeling your face heat up. 

“He…” You debated telling him—perhaps he already knew? Either way, it wasn’t your place to say anything. The last thing you wanted was to get even further on Jisung’s bad side. 

What did you even do to set him off?

“He what, Y/n? What happened?” Changbin placed down the cook utensil that had been gripped tightly in his fist. 

It felt weird to see Changbin distressed, as he was usually the calm during the storm, keeping a level head even when things took a turn for the worst. But you figured you’d be the same way if you just saw one of your best friends in such a state and not have any prior knowledge of the situation. 

“He started freaking out,” you finally said, voice low. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

But you really weren’t sure, and it was easy to tell that Changbin didn’t believe you.

“Are you sure you want to leave it at that, Y/n?” 

Your lip wobbled for a quick second as your eyes locked on something off to your right. It was difficult to sit still under the heavy gaze of Changbin, but really, there was nothing else you could say. You wouldn’t tell him anything that could reveal too much, and if that meant you would have to endure his interrogation with sealed lips, then that was what you had to do. 

You nodded slowly, “Mhm.” 

Changbin’s eyebrows rose in shock, his arms moving to cross over his chest. “Seriously? You’re not going to tell me why Jisung just ran in here breathing like he was in fucking labor?” 

You nodded again, more sure than the last time. 

“He’s with Minho. He’ll be fine.”

“You’re just going to be super cryptic and annoying then.” Changbin said, frustration clear on his face. “No explanation at all.”

“Sorry.” 

He looked at you as if he didn’t believe you, but you honestly were. You knew how shitty it felt to have people you care about hide things from you, since you went through a whole phase of it with Minho—hell, he still hid shit from you half the time. But if anyone was going to tell Changbin what was going on, it was going to be Jisung. 

Because there was no way in hell that you were going to break all rules of trust and tell someone that Jisung suffered from panic attacks. 

Granted, he used to get them all the time when he was young, therefore they were less of a secret and more of a “who possibly didn’t know?” type of deal. A lot of things set him off, and the fact that his parents completely uprooted their lives every two years didn’t help. Thankfully, they had gotten the hint and decided to hold off on moving until Jisung was out of school and ready to go off on his own. 

But it had been a long time since you witnessed one so bad, and you didn’t want to share that secret with anyone. You knew Changbin was one of the most trustworthy people you knew, but it wasn’t your news to spread. 

Changbin’s eyes scanned your form for a moment, his gaze only pausing on your neck for a fraction of a second, and if you hadn’t known what he was looking at, you wouldn’t have noticed anything different. 

“Fine.” He said, spinning on his heel and returning to the small kitchen. He was frustrated and you felt bad about that, but he would hopefully know soon enough. 

And like clockwork, the bathroom door then opened, Chan emerging with damp hair and thankfully fully clothed. It wasn’t the time to get distracted by his incredible body, you’d probably just feel even more guilty if that was even possible. 

“Y/n,” Chan chimed, voice full of life and excitement as he all but blinded to your side like an excited puppy. Though, his cheery nature wouldn’t be enough to raise your spirits—if anything he dampened them further, even more guilt gnawing at your chest. 

He grabbed your limp arms and rugged you forward, nearly pulling you into his chest. You felt your brows furrow and your head tilt away as he leaned forward to place a kiss on your lips, only to miss and land on the side of your head. Chan immediately pulled away with blinking eyes, his pretty lips open in slight surprise. 

You cringed. 

The universe was really against you today, huh?

“Is something wrong?” Chan asked, voice full of concern. 

What a perfect guy. 

You nodded, lips pulling in a tight line. “The morning has just been a little crazy…” 

Eyes flickering up they landed on Changbin, who was already glancing your way, his own gaze skipping back and forth between you and Chan. Though, without a word he turned back to whatever breakfast he was cooking. 

“Anything I can do to help?”

Leave—

You seriously wanted to punch yourself in the face. It wasn’t Chan’s fault for what happened, and you couldn’t ever think that. He was just caught in the middle of some messed up situation that wouldn’t have even happened if you just kept your stupid heart in line. Maybe if you had never met Jisung, everything would’ve turned out fine. 

Because that would’ve solved all of your petty problems. 

“No, Channie,” you managed to send a smile to the boy. “But we should probably get out of here before things get worse.”

Chan nodded, carefully lifting his hand to cradle your jaw. 

“Okay. No problem.” 

You sighed as he gave you the most patient smile you’d ever seen. Your guilt only grew.

Could things get any worse?

As if answering your question, the door to your brother’s room swung open and quietly shut after your grey haired sibling stepped out. His face was set, jaw squared and brows furrowed. 

It was the same face that he went into every conflict with. That was the same expression he wore every time he threw a punch or when he used to pick fights with your mother’s old boyfriends. Minho was angry—with who, you weren’t yet sure. 

But he didn’t miss a beat as he stepped around Chan and took his place in front of you, his calloused and scarred hand reaching up to the neck of your tousled sweater. You didn’t even bother to pull away or wiggle out of his reach, you just kept your unwavering gaze on Minho’s face as he tugged your collar down to expose the patches upon patches of bruises that spread lower than most would consider to be modest. 

Minho kept his gaze down, refusing to look up into the wide eyes of his baby sister. He didn’t believe it when Jisung began babbling about hickies and teeth marks on your skin, his head in his hands as he finally came down from his inner panic. But there it was, clear as fucking day. 

Minho wanted to spin around and sock Chan square in the jaw, but there was something deeper seeded in his chest that kept him from doing so. He bit the skin on the inside of his cheek inside, his mouth filling with copper as he dropped his hold on your sweater and spun around. He met eyes with Chan for only a moment, getting a hard look back as he bumped past and back into his room. This time the door had slammed behind him, all caution to the wind. 

You expected yelling and screaming, a fight you were willing to endure and take. Minho was your brother—as much as he wanted to fill the hole that your dad left empty—he was just your older brother. He could scream and punch things, but you weren’t a baby anymore. What you hadn’t expected was complete silence from him, it was almost worse than him screaming… 

No, your mind flickered back to the way he refused to even look into your eyes, it was much worse.

[hey-there-juliet]

Random Drabble Day (2/23)

Summary: First off, let me just say that this is more like a one-shot than a drabble because I'm a wordy bitch and I cannot control myself 😅

That said, I always had a hard time imagining Julie writing some of the Perfect Harmony's lyrics about herself, so I thought why not make this just another song that Luke and Julie wrote together? This is set somewhere between Finally Free and Edge of Great, in that week when Ray was stress-eating. This is supposed to fit back into the show at the end, so it might seem like a cliffhanger, but it's not.

Quick shout out to @jamestkirkish for betaing this for me! I love you and you are amazing! Any remaining mistakes are my own. And to the fabulous Sloan, for helping me out with Luke's handwriting! Enjoy 🧡

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

Relationship: Juke 💜

in the great scheme of life and ghosts

No matter how many times Luke insisted that she had been snooping through his things, Julie knew for a fact that she had done no such thing. In reality, she had simply been cleaning the studio when she came across it.

For three ghosts who didn't eat and could barely even touch anything most of the time, the boys sure knew how to make a mess. Every morning Julie would walk into the studio to find the chairs or coffee table rearranged, at least one of the rugs was always askew, and the clothes... the clothes were everywhere, and the worst part was: they reeked. 

And so every morning before leaving for school Julie would shoot them a stern look and tell them to pick up after themselves. Which they did - when she got back home, things were mostly in their rightful place. Still, every weekend Julie would make sure to take a moment away from homework and rehearsal to tidy the place up to perfection, just like her mom liked it. She'd dust off the furniture, water the plants, sweep the floor, and even vacuum the whole place. One Saturday when she was home alone (her dad photographing a wedding, and Carlos at a friend's house), she even went through the trouble of washing all of the guys' old clothes. 

Somehow, and she didn't even want to think about how that worked, the clothes didn't stink when they were actually wearing them, but at any other moment when they made no contact with their skin? Yeah... not good. So she washed them all (three times, using every trick and product she had). She washed them a fourth time for good measure and, by the time she was finished, any traces of twenty-five year old mold was gone, and so was the smell.

So no, she was not snooping - no matter what Luke said - when she came across the crumpled paper ball between the couch and the low cabinet, just behind a big vase her mom had gotten from tía Victoria.

Julie sighed, making a mental note to tell Luke to put his discarded ideas in the bin (again) if he didn't want them anymore, when one scribbled and wrinkled word caught her attention: Perfect Ha-

She bit her lip, staring down at the teasing word. Perfect what? Was it lyrics? Maybe half formed ideas? Doodles? Julie knew Luke liked to doodle in the margins of his notebook whenever he got stuck trying to come up with the next best piece of lyric or melody. She also knew she should probably just leave it alone, put it with his stuff to ask him later if he wanted to keep it, or put it in the garbage. Except the more she glanced down at that damn word, the stronger she felt it pull her towards uncovering whatever else the crumpled paper ball was hiding. 

In the end, the pull was too strong. She'd just take a quick look, make sure it wasn't anything important before she threw it away. And, she reasoned with herself, trying to squish the guilt that was making itself known in the pit of her stomach: Luke had gotten rid of it, so he clearly didn't care much for whatever was in there. 

Not able to resist any longer, Julie carefully unfolded the paper, slowly making her way towards the piano and using its surface as a table to help smooth the page over.

Luke's (horrendous) handwriting covered it with the bare bones of a song, random lines were scribbled in the margins with a couple of doodles for company, and even a little note from their bassist - ‘Reggie was here ;)’.

It took her a minute before the chicken scratches became words, and then Julie's breath left her in a rush, as the guilty feeling in her stomach turned into butterflies and flew away with her imagination. 

It was a song, parts of one, anyway, and - more importantly - it was a love song.

Unprompted, her own words came back to her, "Wow, Luke! I didn't know you were such a romantic." Quickly followed by Alex's short reply, "He's not."

She knew now who Unsaid Emily was really about, but these new words were clearly about a different kind of love. The romantic kind, and Julie couldn't help letting herself believe - just for a moment - that the song might be about her.

Before she could let herself be carried away in a daydream, there was a - now familiar - shift in the air, a sound almost like static, the only thing letting her know of a ghost's appearance. Without a thought, she crumpled the page again and shoved the paper ball in her pocket for later inspection. 

"Hey, Julie!" Reggie's cheerful greeting sounded across the studio from where he had poofed in, and soon - with his "help," bless him - Julie was finished with her weekend clean up. 

As if summoned by the end of her chores, Luke poofed in, ready to rehearse. Alex soon followed; and by the time Julie retired for the night, the song had been almost forgotten where it hid inside her pocket. 

Almost.

***

After getting ready for the night, Julie settled on her bed with the wrinkled page and her dreambox. She read over the words again and again, imagining they were about her.

Step into my world, 

Bittersweet love story about a girl 

Shook me to the core 

Voice like an angel, 

I've never heard before, 

- 

You and me together, it's more than chemistry 

- 

Love me as I am 

I hold your music 

Here inside my hands 

- 

You are my brightest burning star 

- 

We create Perfect Harmony.

And unless Luke had been singing with another girl, there didn't seem to be many options on who it could be about, right?

From the beginning, Julie had felt something connecting her to him; to all of them, in different ways. But Luke had been the one to give her a little piece of his soul right after meeting her when he let her use Bright to earn back her spot in the music program. Seeing his passion reflecting back on her, the way he treated music like she used to, made her miss it more than anything for the first time in almost a year. It made her miss the way it felt to use music to connect with her mom.

After they spent a whole weekend finishing each other's songs and working on new ones, getting to know each other's inner workings - the part of them that bled out feelings into paper to create beautiful melodies, Julie knew she was a goner. Finding out he'd been the one to write the words that shaped her taste in rock certainly didn't help. Like he'd been helping her find her way to music long before they even met.

Her crush on him had been inevitable from the start, and while falling for him was probably one of the worst things she could’ve done, it was too late to stop it. She'd been free falling for a while, and hopefully she'd land in his arms soon enough. Reading over his words again gave Julie a warm fluttering in her stomach that made her think he was more than ready to catch her once she reached the ground. 

Carefully folding the piece of paper, she put it inside her dreambox, then placed the box back on the shelf.

***

The following week went by without any hiccups. Every once in a while, Julie would remember Luke's song and a familiar warmth would fill her up, leaving a soft smile on her lips and glazed eyes staring off at nothing. Just as often, Flynn would have to shake her out of her daydreams.

She didn't think much would come of it until her dad decided to throw the band a party so he could film them and post their video on YouTube. Which was fine. Amazing, even. It was most certainly great! Until Luke came to the school, staring at her with his stupid, beautiful, awed eyes, and with his soft, perfect smile, saying things that made her combust and melt, all at the same time.

"I think you make me a better writer." 

    "I think we make each other better."

Calling Nick 'Luke' was bad enough, but slipping into a complete musical sequence as she danced with him? "Goner" didn't even begin to describe her. 

Like the other times they'd written together, the lyrics flowed through her, finishing the song he'd started with the same ease as one would take a breath.

Julie knew that whatever was going on between her and Luke couldn't happen or, if it did, it couldn't last. In fact, in the great scheme of life and ghosts, she didn't know much, but what she did know was that - be it in life or in death - love was constant. 

He didn't need to have a heartbeat or to be able to touch her for her to love him. He was just as real to her as the next person, and whether it would hurt in the long run or not, it didn't matter. 

She knew Flynn was only looking out for her, but that ship had sailed, and Julie was already so lost in his ocean eyes that avoiding eye contact wasn't going to bring it back. She would entertain her though, even knowing it wouldn't work. Just like the tide, eventually he'd pull her right back in.

She could love him just as he was, for however long they had together, and especially after that.

-

End notes: I hope you guys enjoyed it! And, if you'll notice, at the beginning it kind of gives off the impression that Luke eventually finds out about the song and Julie tells him how she found it. Which may or may not lead you to believe that they're in a relationship. I guess it all depends on interpretation though ;)

Oh, also! Shout out to the chaos squad folks that guessed right! You guys are no fun :( /j lmao

[p-artsypants]

P-Artsypants Fic Masterpost!

This information is always available on my blog. 

Find most, if not more, of these fics on:

Fanfiction.net | Archive of Our Own | Wattpad

(~AU’s, *Finished, ❤️Author’s Favorites)

Kingdom Hearts

~❤️Rage Awakened AO3 | FF.net- Ten years ago, Terra, Aqua, and Ventus lost their fellow apprentice, Sora, in Deep Jungle. Now, they are to return with two new students, Riku and Kairi, to lock the heart of the world. All the while, something watches from the trees. Feral!Sora AU

My Kingdom for a Heart AO3 | FF.Net - The curse of being one of the Princesses of heart, is that there’s always someone out to get you. As Xemnas looked failure in the face, he reached out in a last ditch effort and destroyed Kairi’s heart. Now her friends must travel the worlds again. Sora, to find a way to recover Kairi’s heart, and Riku, to make amends to those he has wronged. All the while, the darkness grows. [Unfinished, on permanent hiatus]

Miraculous Ladybug

One Shots

*❤️Amalgam- When an young man is rejected for being ‘incompatible’ he turns into the akuma ‘Amalgam’ able to fuse two people together. And later Adrien and Marinette would debate if it was lucky or unlucky that they got hit. (Also Available in Russian)

*Sing We All Noel- After receiving the worst Christmas present ever from his father, Chat Noir finds himself out on the streets with nowhere to go on Christmas Eve. Thankfully, Ladybug finds him and brings him home.

*Speechless- In a world where everyone has a soulmark, the first words their soulmate will say to them, Marinette is born without one. But Adrien Agreste has two. Curious, considering he’s mute.

*❤️Tunnels of Love- The night started out with an accidental kiss from Adrien Agreste, and ended with her bleeding in the Catacombs of Paris. Ladybug, the wielder of the miraculous of good luck. Yeah right. (Some blood)

*The Reveal That Wasn’t- First Parts My ending to kittybug’s Tumblr Prompt

*What A Mess We’re In- Ladybug has a lot on her mind, and when Chat Noir bugs her enough, she tells him she’s going to confess to her Crush, Adrien Agreste. Chat’s reaction is not what she’s expecting.

*Oblivi-oh no! - A retelling of Oblivio, except Ladybug is the only one to lose her memory. How will Chat deal?

*Bad Day (3 chapters) - Marinette was Ladybug! This was Adrien’s luckiest day ever! Except it wasn’t, because all his good luck was used up in one go. Turns out this might be the worst day of his life.

*One Win, So Many Losses- Marinette was forced to break up with Adrien. It had been a low blow from Gabriel, to be sure. But she was Ladybug. She’d find a solution…right? An alternate ending to Chat Blanc, where Adrien doesn’t Cataclysm the akuma.

*❤️Five Minutes- Gabriel has had enough of all these girls fighting over Adrien. He decides it’s high time Adrien picks one, and arranges the perfect opportunity for him to do so. Each candidate has five minutes to present why they’d be a good girlfriend. Marinette decides to take this opportunity to shoot her shot.

~*Panache- Every eligible maiden was invited to the Prince’s ball. That included Marinette, scullery maid in her own household. But her stepsisters destroyed her dress, and she can’t go to the ball in rags. Or can she? (Cinderella!AU)

*Perfect, No Matter What-In which Gabriel sets the bar even lower for himself, a reveal happens because of pain medication, and the new guardian actually goes to Chloé for advice.

*Crushed- Stuck under a collapsed building together, Chat Noir and Marinette have a heart to heart.

*Lovelace- Convinced that he's unlovable, Adrien is quickly thrown for a loop when Marinette confesses her love for him out of the blue. An akumatization and reveal later, he changes his mind about being unlovable.

Long Fics

*❤️Longest Night- (FF.net | Ao3) - The day started out sucky to begin with. Her crush ousted to the class and Adrien. Lila taking pride in exacting her revenge. But by the time patrol was over, a young man was dead, and Ladybug’s identity was at risk. Lila was the least of her concerns. Good thing Adrien was taking it all like a champ. (Rated M for scenes of torture)

*❤️Nine Lives- (FF.net) When Adrien Agreste is scheduled to go to a Military School in Germany, Chat Noir must make a critical decision. Does he give up his Miraculous? Or does he give up his life as Adrien? I’ll save you the trouble of guessing, he gives up being Adrien.

*Tender Words- When Marinette finally gets the guts to confess her feelings for Adrien, some things go so wrong, and other things go so right.

*Integrity- Overwhelmed with her responsibilities, guilt, and drama, Marinette has an emotional breakdown in front of everyone, and even hands over her earrings in a moment of weakness. Only for a few seconds, but the damage was done. Adrien’s pretty quick on the uptake like that.

~Much Obliged- Everyone deals with grief differently. Some take to drinking, others devote themselves to charity. Adrien Agreste? Well, he became a cowboy. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a witch, one of very few in the world. She knows what it’s like to be doubted, and assumed delusional. Maybe that’s why they got along so well. Or maybe it’s just because they both like big hats. AU where everything is the same, except instead of superheroes, Adrien is a Cowboy and Marinette is a witch. (Unfinished) (Based on a AU by @bugaboo-n-bananoir)

*I’ll Handle This- “I’ll solve all your problems,” Plagg had said. “You just have to agree to it.” A fixed relationship with his father, Lila to stop bothering him, and Ladybug to fall in love with him? Who wouldn’t agree to that? Except Plagg was the God of Destruction and Chaos and had a more…hands-on approach. Adrien just wants his body back. (Body swap fic)

The Ghost of Smokey Joe- Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

How To Train Your Dragon

One Shots

The Vikings Have Their Tea (FF.Net | AO3)

Arranged Marriage- Takes place at the beginning of HTTYD

❤️Breathe- Survival of the fittest

~Childhood Friends- At the Sandbox

❤️Easy Fix- In which Hiccup has a bad day

~Fashion Designer- Astrid needs a fill in

❤️Frozen- In Which Astrid takes a Dip and things get frisky (Rated M)

❤️Headache- In Which Hiccup hits his head….really hard

❤️Heir- In Which Hiccup is Picked (Longer version by FateCharms)

Illness- In Which Stoick is a dad

~Illusionist- Trick gone wrong

~In the Walls- In which there’s a poop ghost

~Knocking On The Wrong Door (2) - A chance encounter

❤️Messages- Astrid is Frustrated with Hiccup’s obliviousness

~To Mirkwood- Hiccup is not a dwarf

~Monster Falls- Hiccup and Astrid take a dip

❤️Mute- In which there’s a quiet stranger

~Music Video (ImgHS)- He didn’t expect it

❤️Operation: Lovebirds- In Which the gang makes a plan, and Hiccup gets Drunk

~Over- Too many nightmares

~Partners in Crime- A normal day at work

~Pirate- Astrid is the greatest treasure

~Prince- He doesn’t want to be a broken King

❤️Sorting Things Out- In Which Astrid gets her ducks in a row

~The Dragon and The Dame- Beauty and the Beast Au

The Pit- In Which Hiccup is rescued

Hide and Seek- Part 1

Lost and Found- Part 2

Long fics:

*❤️Infernal Responsibility- Being the son of the chief takes brains, courage, and a lot of patience. But at his father’s the request for marriage, Hiccup decides he has had enough. When he seeks out a life of ease, he runs into more than what he bargained for.

*❤️Roses and Lilies- “Astrid, you and I both know you’re much tougher than I am. You’re more brave, and a better fighter…but just for a little while…could we pretend that I’m the one protecting you?” “Oh gods yes!” (Also Available in Spanish!)

*~What the Water Gave Me- The sea is a wild and dangerous thing, something that cannot be foretold or predicted. Hiccup discovered this many years ago, in human naiveté. Yet, what was meant as a sacrifice became a new life, one like no one could comprehend. He now finds himself once more in the unknowing hands of those that sentenced him to death. He only prays things will be different this time. Merman!AU

*Parasite- Soulsnatcher Dragons are rare but deadly. But, As Hiccup finds out, it’s the eggs you have to watch out for.

*~320 State Street- Gobber’s Goods. A Hardware Store that was rumored to have everything you needed. She thought she only needed a job. Turns out, she needed a lot more than that. (A Modern AU no one asked for)

*~❤️The North Tower- When Finn Hofferson died, Astrid inherited his castle in Wales…and a whole lot more. Something sinister lurks in the North Tower.

*~❤️Boy Toy- AO3 - At the age of 21, Princess Astrid lawfully has to pick a husband. But when the perfect groom is nowhere to be found, she requests the toymaker to create one for her. It’s safe to say that everyone in the kingdom is a little concerned. (Pinocchio!AU I guess?)

No, You Go First- AO3 - The Chief of Berk was a headstrong viking, stubborn and full of pride, and willing to do whatever it takes to keep his village safe. But for a moment, he puts that aside, and listens to his son. In which Hiccup convinces his dad not to make him go through Dragon Training, and the subsequent changes that follow.

*In Due Time- AO3 - As another illness sweeps through Berk, Gothi needs another ingredient for her medicine…one that doesn’t exist anymore. Fortunately, she kept that old spell book around for such an occasion. Big Hiccup is sent to five years into the past, and his younger self sent to take his place in the future. But it’s only a few days, what could go wrong?

Trollhunters: Tales from Arcadia

❤️Arcadia or Bust- In Which Arcadia welcomes back it’s underground citizens.

Teen Titans

Oneshots:

~Big Brother- Don’t turn out the light (Horror)

Dear Jason- Bruce Writes a letter

Just Drawing- Bruce thinks about Robin

The Prisoner- Starfire is Guilty

Of Mustard and Three Foot Purple Tongues- A collection of Oneshots and Drabbles

Long Fics (*Finished):

*~❤️Carol of the Bells- High in the dark Bell Tower of Notre Dame, there lives a mysterious bell ringer. Legend tells of the angel who fell from the sky, and the curse she bares. There are few who know her true identity though; her master, the priest, and the acrobat that performs on the streets below. Based loosely on ‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame’ RobxStar and slight BBxRae

*No Escape- Three years ago, Starfire escaped an Alien race called the Gordanians, to arrive on Earth. They’re back, and ready to put Starfire back where she belongs, behind reinforced Titanium bars. Robin’s not about to let her go…if only he hadn’t got captured first. How does it feel to be the alien, Robin?

*Now you Know My Pain- When the new Villain, Gender Bender, comes to down, the Titans find themselves in an odd situation. They’ve been turned into the opposite gender against their will! Now in order to change back, they must learn to understand the gender they’ve turned into. Rated T for obvious reasons. A great read if you’ve ever wondered why girls or guys do [blank].

*Paint it Black- Robin disappeared three months ago. Now, Jump City’s crime rate is mysteriously being taken care of by a normal, albeit strange, teenage boy who goes by the name Black. As the Titans befriend this lunatic, they begin to see a relation between him and their missing leader. Will they be able to find Robin, or will Black turn them all insane as himself? Actually, contains NO OC.

*Saving Grace- “When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk upright or speak coherent sentences and all you’ll see is my mask and my voice repeating in your head…Weak. Richard Grayson, I am not tough, I am everything that you fear.” Happy Ending! Smudge of RobStar. NO Slash!

Other Fandoms

Final Fantasy XV

❤️Requiem for Pitioss-“O King. The god’s have heard your cries. Know that we weep with you. The Oracle’s calling has not yet been fulfilled. But…Lunafreya as you know her cannot return the way she was.” Noctis looked up, hopeful. “But she can return!” Canon divergence from Chapter 9. Happy ending. Some spoilers.

Final Fantasy X

I Do…I Guess? - “I would…like to ask you something.” “Shoot.” “Well…if it’s not too much…I’d like to ask you…to marry me.” Knowing what’s to come during her pilgrimage, Yuna asks Tidus to marry her, strictly for convenience and having an official next of kin, of course. Starts after Luca and how this decision would affect the rest of the story.

Beauty and the Beast

*❤️Behold the Beast- A Oneshot alternate ending to the Animated Film

Cinderella

*❤️Midnight- “When the clock strikes twelve, the spell will be broken,” the fairy godmother had warned. A retelling of the story, when Cinderella doesn’t escape the ball in time. Oneshot

*So This is Love- What if Jaq and Gus hadn’t made it in time to help Cinderella? A new twist on the ending of the classic Fairytale, and what lies beyond the story. She still gets her happy ending and her Prince, and her step family gets their just deserts.

Sleeping Beauty

*❤️A Love Song Back To Me- Maleficent saw the loophole that stared her in the face. Prince Phillip would break the curse in time, for sure. After all, he was betrothed to Aurora. So in an effort for her evil plan to stay in action, Maleficent takes care of the young prince herself. Phillip never imagined having to live off the land like the birds above. Alternate twist on the classic Disney tale.

Escaflowne

Down Feathers- Hitomi’s depressed. She’s been away from Van too long, he comes back to visit her…but what if something went wrong with the transfer? (Not finished. Never will be finished. Mwahaha) Circa 2012

*Angel’s Wounds- Fanelia’s been victorious in their most recent battle with Basrum. Unfortunately, someone is wounded and just seeks solace in his love that lives so far away. Post Anime.

Momma Look Sharp- With the war between Fanelia and Basrum finally coming to a close, the kingdom is celebrating. The young king, however, is suffering from an experience unlike any he had before. Van finally seeks solace in his wife.