#(thus six watches in one trip)

[why-is-it-always-autumn]

Well, a small child said I looked beautiful and the person at the watch repair shop complimented me on my necklace, so I had a nice day

[multific]

Every Scar Tells a Story

Dau'ja x Reader

Requested by @itzalyaa17

Warnings: mention of blood, injury, angst, alien-animal carcases

Summary: When a group of six people are taken from Earth to get hunted, every Yautja was surprised to see a young woman surviving, you. Your life on Yautja Prime took a turn when you married Dau'ja.

A/N: Yet another Yautja made up by me based on a request, the picture is NOT MINE, credit goes to the owner.

You woke up in a cage, alone, confused and scared.

The last thing you remembered was heading home from work and now, here you were on a strange ship in a cage.

You were so scared.

But then, you were out again.

Then, you woke up in a forest, surrounded by woods and what was the strangest, no noise of animals.

Nothing but you.

Then, you met a group of people.

But they were so different from you, all of them different ethnicities with different jobs, but all were male.

As you learned, all were rich, stupid rich.

"We are being hunted and watched." one of the men said. Then he suddenly grabbed your arm and started pushing you. "You can die for me, you are nothing." you tried to fight him, ask the others for help but he just kept pushing you further into a place you all knew was a trap.

You were begging but he didn't listen. But then, he tripped and you took advantage of that, pushing him as he fell into the trap and died. 

Everyone was shocked, then they all blamed you.

Stupid men, you were on a different planet and yet they made you be the villain when you defended yourself!

Now, you not only had to hide from the things hunting you but these men.

And somehow, you survived. You watched as the huge alien creatures skinned those men and you were ready for death.

But instead, they kept you.

You weren't stupid, you knew what they were doing, they were selling you.

You can only imagine what the were saying about you but then, then one of them bought you.

He looked very old.

And thus, your life on Yautja Prime started.

---

Being only a human living amongst Yautja, you knew you were at a disadvantage.

So far, your mate has been perfect. He even made an earpiece so it can translate what he is saying to you.

He cared for you and protected you.

It was exactly what you wished for and more.

Dau'ja started courting you not too long before you two got married. 

You were another Yautja's helper when you two met. An old Yautja who could barely care for himself. So, you became his caretaker.

In the beginning, you feared what the Elder might do to you, but he turned out to be kind.

Dau'ja started courting you when the Elder was still alive and before his death, he allowed you to marry Dau'ja.

The Elder knew that Dau'ja was a respected member of the hunting tribe. he knew that Dau'ja wouldn't hurt you and would care for you as a husband should. 

And after the Elder's death, Dau'ja took you into his home officially.

He was fascinated by humans, his intentions were to study you.

Out of every human they took that day, you were the only one who survived.

You adapted to a life on Yautja Prime, you adapted and became the mate to one of them.

It is what made you so different.

Your will to change and to move forward.

It was what Dau'ja had been looking for in you all along.

He wanted to know, how, and he needed to why.

So, taking you as his was an obvious choice for him. He never expected to become so attached to you.

Whenever you showered he watched you. Watching your skin, your marks, memorising each and every one.

By now, he could possibly point out all of them on your skin with his eyes closed.

He loved to go on hunts.

Arriving back from hunts was always very stressful for you. It was the time he presented you with furs to make into clothing. He gave you skulls and carcasses to cut and prepare.

During the first time when he brought back a bloody carcass, you threw up.

You did cut it, poorly, but you did it.

He looked disappointed, well not really, Yautja couldn't move their face like humans but his eyes said it all.

And just like then, now he looked even more disappointed.

"You humans are really fragile beings. Can't even do anything." his words cut deeper than anything. Your hands started to shake as you looked at him. You were covered in blood, he asked you to prepare a meal for him from the meat he hunted. You felt so disappointed with yourself.

Yautja women would never fail like you did.

Dau'ja stood up behind you and walked over, taking the knife from you as you backed away.

"I-I was never taught," you said, trying to defend yourself but he didn't reply, instead he prepared his own meal.

You headed to have a shower, you cried as the water washed the animal's blood off of you.

He heard you, yet he did nothing.

He wanted you to be better, and stronger. In his eyes, this was part of the process.

"I will go on a hunt with the others, we will be back later this afternoon." he basically threw this at you the next morning.

You could only nod before he stormed out of your home.

You were once again, alone with your thoughts.

You weren't good enough for him. He must have realized it by now, he must know you are a failure and once he had enough of you, he will dispose of you. You have seen it done, males rejecting females.

You needed to do something to prove yourself.

You already proved that you are good at taking care of his home and that you can be a valuable member of his tribe. Now, you needed to prove that you could be a hunter.

Whenever he took you hunting before, you always just stood there, awkwardly as the males did their job. You weren't exactly useful, but you were not in the way either.

You need to find a way before he finds a way to get rid of you.

And so, you grabbed one of his knives and headed out of the border and into the deep dark forest.

You let out a deep sigh as you came across your final prey. You tried your best to use your memory of the males hunting.

You tried to be stealthy as the wolf-like creature stood not too far from you.

You needed to kill it, so you can prove yourself, so you can prove you are not just a fragile human.

You are not a burden.

You moved into the perfect position behind the animal. Hiding by a tree as you moved swiftly.

Too many thoughts running in your mind.

And just as you thought, you had this, you stepped on a branch.

It immediately alarmed the beast as it turned, it took a moment before starting to run at you.

You quickly turned the other way and started running back to the tribe.

But the animal was faster, it jumped on you making you fall face-first onto the floor with a loud thud and a groan.

You quickly moved your hand to your neck, protecting it as you tried to turn around, when you did the animal stepped onto your chest with its huge paw as you put your hands up. It grabbed your wrist, you felt each and every one of its teeth sink into your flesh as blood began to run down and drip onto you.

You let out a loud yell which did surprise the beast but not for too long.

It began its assault on your wrist, pulling on it so hard you thought it would rip your entire hand right off.

Then the beast let out a loud yelp of pain before it ran off.

With the adrenaline rushing through your body, you failed to notice for a moment that two Yautja stepped over to you.

You looked at them, and you recognized both. They were what you would call on Earth your neighbours.

One said something which didn't really register in your brain, While the other made sure that the beast was dead, as he followed the creature and then you heard another yelp.

You were rushed back to the tribe and to the healer.

Once the pain got better and the reality of the situation set in, you thanked the males who helped you and the healer who bandaged up your wrist and hand.

Filled with shame, you returned home.

Your wrist was throbbing with pain as you just sat there.

Dau'ja will be home soon, you know it, and he will see what a failure you are.

Dau'ja arrived home, and barged through the front door, looking for you.

When he found you in the living space, he dropped to his knees, letting out a sound of relief.

"I thought..." he looked up at you, your eyes meeting his. "I smelled blood."

"I failed you." you said as you too knelt down on the floor, away from him as you looked at your hands, tears gathering in your eyes. "I'm useless. I went to hunt so I can prove myself to you and I failed, I will accept your rejection and leave your home."

"We are mates. Mates don't reject or leave," he said as you looked at him with wide eyes.

He moved closer to you on the floor.

"What do you mean?" he touched your bandaged-up wrist as he looked at it and then up at you.

"Humans are fragile, so I want to protect. As your mate, you are mine and I am yours. I failed to protect you."

You were still confused by his words.

"I failed as a wife. I couldn't prepare the meat for you."

"You keep the home warm. Warm and clean. Knife is not for you, and it's okay. I saw you try and cut, you nearly cut yourself many times. I got... angry. Angry because I should have prepared the meat for you to cook."

"Oh." so it was all a misunderstanding.

A huge mistake on both of your parts.

"So, I don't have to leave?" you asked after a couple minutes of silence.

"If you do, I'll bring you home." you smiled at that as you moved closer to him, hugging him as his arms moved around you, you fit perfectly into his huge frame.

His fragile human.

Home.

Something you now call this place.

You made his dull hut into a home.

A home he liked to return to, to have you there at the end of the hunts or just a long day, to keep you safe and sound.

Dau'ja's regret never faded after that day. The scars on your wrist were a constant reminder that he had to keep you safe.

You were his human after all.

His wife and mate.

He knew you were perfect. He often found himself running his fingers along the sensitive skin on your wrist to soothe your pain but more so to soothe his deep regret.

You will be the perfect mother to his children. He didn't need you to prove yourself as a warrior or hunter. He assured you that it was his duty to do such things.

And he even promised to teach you how to handle knives.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[hysteria-things]

can you do a nate fluff w/ some smut where it's him and the triplets little sister and theyre dating and he keeps wanting to be close to her in but they're in a video so he has to wait and the fans notice when the video comes out? this wasn't specific at all so sorry 😭

SNEAK AWAY (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!nate x sls!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: six of you are on a trip in hawaii! the only downside is that your triplet brothers don’t know you’re dating their best friend.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, FLUFF, swearing, praising

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,208

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i need this man (biblically)

ALSO i have not forgotten about promise it’ll be continued i just want to get through some of my inbox first!

hawaii is a beautiful place. you truly never want to leave.

this trip is for madi’s eighteenth birthday, and you were practically begged to come. not only you, but nate came along, too.

the thing about nate is that you’re in love with him. literally.

you guys have been dating for roughly seven months, and nobody knows about it. it’s only a thing between you and him.

it genuinely feels nice for it to be you and his thing, but it does get annoying because you have to sneak around.

personally, you wouldn’t mind if your brothers never found out. they can’t kill you, but they will hawk nate and kill him.

glancing around the store, you fidget with the straps of your tank top. “nate, come on.”

he glances at you and then back at the condom boxes. the triplets are vlogging the trip thus far, and you guys walked away to come over to this section.

“nathan.”

he sighs, grabbing a box. “you worry about them too much, baby. we’re fine.”

“they can turn down one of these aisles any second and we’ll be busted.” you whisper-yell, pointing around the store.

he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “they’re loud. i’m sure we’ll hear them coming before something bad happens.”

he continues to look at you and smiles.

you cross your arms, bumping a hip out. “what?”

“you’re cute when you’re mad.” he takes his finger and flicks it under your chin before the two of you walk over to the counter and place the condoms on it. you’re still looking around, but there are no same-faced people in sight.

the woman working eyes the both of you, a subtle smirk on her face before scanning the box and putting it in a bag.

he pays for it, and just as you guys turn around you hear voices. “hey guys.” nick greets, looking down at the bag. “what’d you get?”

“some deodorant. i forgot mine at home.” nate answers, nudging your arm softly.

the man-children are recording themselves playing with a ball in an open grass area by the hotel, you and madi watching them from afar. you sigh annoyingly, looking down at your watch.

“i’m going to go up to the room,” you yell, cupping your hands around your mouth so they can hear. they stop playing, focusing now on you. “need to go to the bathroom.”

they give you the okay, and before you know it you’re walking into the hotel suite.

you scroll on your phone, a few minutes passing by before the door opens. you grin widely, nate shutting the door behind him.

he comes over to you and snakes his arms around your waist to pull you close. “i missed you.”

you giggle. “you just saw me.”

sighing, he pulls you into a kiss. the way your mouths move in sync has you craving more. this is the first time you guys are alone, let alone a kiss that’s not a millisecond long.

he pulls away and lifts you, your legs dangling on his sides so he can take you to the bed he’s sharing with chris.

sorry in advance, chris.

he lays you down, kissing your jaw before taking off your shorts. “how much time do you think we have?” you ask.

he shrugs. “like i said before, they’re loud. we’ll hear them coming.”

you blush at his boston accent, one much stronger than yours and your brother’s. even though you’ve heard him talk a hundred times, it’ll always make your heart flutter.

he leaves wet kisses up your chest and neck while he pulls down his bottoms. his kisses finalize on your lips. “i love you a lot.”

you bite your lip, smiling. “i love you too.”

he reaches into the plastic bag he put on the nightstand and grabs the condom box. he rips off one of them and opens it, putting it on when he throws the wrapper somewhere on the ground.

your hands run along his back as he starts to thrust into you, low moans leaving your body.

nate’s thrusts are soft and slow, but it feels more intimate and comforting. you hate the phrase ‘making love’, but it seems like you’re doing just that.

he leans down to kiss you passionately again, his hands flat next to your head. he pulls away, his nose rubbing against yours.

breathing heavily, he moves his hips at a medium pace, going deeper inside of you and just about hitting your g-spot.

your sounds are more high-pitched now, with some profanities flowing through the air as well.

“na—” you begin but get cut off by a gasp once that spot is hit. you throw your head back and arch, balling your hands up to fists. “oh my god.”

“wait just a second, okay?” he rasps out, followed by a groan of his own. “you’re so fucking pretty.”

he hits inside you harder since he’s close to his orgasm and you whimper at how good it feels.

“i’m cumming, baby,” he says before jutting his hips one last time and releasing into the condom.

one last moan and you’re spilling around him. he pulls out, laying on top of your chest as you guys breathe in sync. “imagine they walk in right now?” he jokes.

you slap him on the chest. “better knock on wood, nathan, or we’re going to have some serious issues.”

madi’s birthday rolls around the next day, and it’s the late morning as you guys sit on the couch. your legs are crisscrossed as madi is on her knees.

the four boys are doing some activities outside before all of you go out later for birthday dinner, but you girls want to stay inside in the cool air.

face masks are on your faces, still dressed in pajamas as you guys also paint your nails. “i’m so happy to have another girl around. growing up with four older brothers was not easy.”

she looks up from her painting and gives you a toothy smile before she clears her throat. “can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

“are you sleeping with nate?”

you pause mid-stroke, now looking at the girl across from you.

you chuckle nervously, putting the brush back into the polish. “why do you ask?”

“by the way he ran after you yesterday when you were going back to the room, i knew something was up.”

you hesitate, but you have to tell at least one person. madi you can trust with anything. “not… entirely.”

“what?” her eyes bulge out of her sockets, not expecting you to admit it. “are you like in love with him or something?”

you try to hide your smile, but your face turning beat red gives you away.

her mouth hangs open. “no. way.”

“we’re dating.” you start. “we have been for about seven months. we started talking on my birthday last year, and it escalated from there.”

“omg!” she squeals. “this is the best birthday gift i’ve ever received and it doesn’t even involve me.”

you laugh. “please don’t tell my brothers. they’ll have a heart attack if they find out.”

she zips her lips and throws the key. “my lips are sealed, unlike your le—”

“quit it.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @saturncanyon

[flowery-laser-blasts]

The girls brought their boys to the Oh Boyz reunion concert.

"Ron, grab that USB before Drakken can install it into his doomsday device" "On it KP!" Ron tries to get to the work desk and trips slamming face first onto the surface causing office supplies to fall all over the place. Drakken runs over and grabs one of the two scattered -almost identical looking- USBs and plugs it into the device "HA! I'll take that, thank you! And now, behold the power of--" "HEY IS THAT 'I WANT IT MY WAY'?!" "Errr... No, it's not what you think--"

Shego and Kim pause their battle, watching the two men go from bickering to singing in no time. Turns out this doomsday device can double as a mega surround sound stereo speaker instalation set.

Ron starts talking about how they saved the Oh Boyz once and that Rufus is their new manager.

Kim thinks and offers a deal "If you hand us the USB, you two can come with us to the Oh Boyz reunion concert." "DEAL!" Shego almost hurts her neck when she snaps her head in Drakken's direction "WHAT?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!" Drakken picks up the USB from the ground and hands it to Kim, he waves the two teens off.

The moment they leave the lair, Shego grabs Drakken by the collar. "Do you have any idea how annoyingly tedious it was for me to get that stupid USB for you?!" "Up-pupup Shego, I did in fact make a backup this morning" "You wha-?" Drakken opens the desk drawer to reveal hundreds upon hundreds of identical looking micro SD chips. "Now if you can help me find out which one of these chips contain-- Shego?" Shego slams the lab door closed behind her.

"Shego? What a coincidence!" Junior lays down on the sunchair next to her. "Junior? What are you doing here in Middleton of all places? Don't you have your own, I don't know, indoor house spa?" "Ah yes, but my lovely girlfriend Bonnie has cheerleader practice right now and I thought, why not broaden my horizon -like they say- and try out the spas of the common folk. You look upset, what's on your mind?"

Shego regretfully tells Junior about what happened this morning and Junior, in his excitement, almost instantaneously heads over to school.

Junior begs Kim and Ron to please bring him and Bonnie along with them to the Oh Boyz concert. "BUT WE WERE GOING TO THE CARIBBEAN ISLANDS FOR THE WEEKEND JUNIOR! YOU'RE SO RICH, YOU CAN EASILY BUY THE OH BOYZ FOR A PRIVATE CONCERT!" "But my darling! I want to experience the real pop idol experience! I need to know what it is to be amongst the fans, so I can understand what it feels like to them. That way I'll become a more understanding teen pop idol sensation! It's like, what you call it; homework, yes?" "Ugh... FINE! Alright Kim, you take care of everything, we'll take care of transport. I am NOT going to go there by cab. "

And thus all six of them ended up at the concert.

The boys: absolutely starstruck (Drakken eventually gave up on finding the chip.)

The girls:

- Bonnie doesn't like being amongst 'common folk', sure she would've loved this a few months ago, but now that she's dating one of the richest guys in the world. This has become dull.

- Kim pulled some strings with Rufus, asking for a favor to make this night unforgettable for the guys.

- Shego is confused as to why the Oh Boyz songs sound oh so familiar to some other boyband she used to hear on the radio when she was in college.

[dokoni-mo]

Crave: Part Seven || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: the honeymoon

mild NSFW

word count: 5177

warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is 20 william is pushing 40), allusions to mental illness, willy is obsessive, possessive too, and a little creepy, and a hypocrite, and narcissistic lol, and a little bit of a yandere, mentions of divorce, dysfunctional parent-child relationships, secret relationships, swearing, gaslighting, manipulation tactics, dom/sub undertones if you squint, willy is VERY egotistical, allusions to corruption kink, sir kink, smoking, sensual touching, dirty fantasies, praise, lying, erections, dirty fantasies, kissing, allusions to past unhealthy relationships

minors dni // please read warnings !!

part one // two // three // four // five // six

a/n: helloooo everyone!! welcome back!! thank you for all the support thus far, it really means a lot!! this chapter was originally going to have MULTIPLE parts, but that's gonna be saved for part 8!! just so i don't overload you guys :)) taglist is still open, enjoy!!

~~~

The car ride to the hotel was much quieter than William expected. But he found it hard to care.

It hadn't been quiet because it was awkward or boing, no. That wasn't it at all. It was only quiet because you really had ended up falling asleep during the ride. Despite professing earlier how good you were at staying up. For the brief bit of time you had stayed awake, you were actually a lot chattier than William anticipated. He hadn't even noticed you nodding off until he asked you something, but didn't get a response. He had glanced over to see if you were okay, and found you slumped against the window, pretty little eyes closed with pretty little parted lips.

It was adorable.

Though he did want to spend the few hour long car ride talking to you more, William could never be disappointed by watching you sleep. You were just so adorable and peaceful when you did. His sleepy baby bunny. He was glad you felt safe enough around him to let your guard down like that. Not that he was a danger to you, of course not. It was just... nice. To see you in such a relaxed state.

Almost as nice as how your thighs felt.

William had gotten most accustomed to them during the trip. His right hand never left your soft flesh the whole way there. He would rub soft, loving circles against your knee every now and again, despite knowing that you wouldn't feel them. At least, not now. When he first put his hand there when you were awake, you definitely felt them. He could see it in the way the heat rose to your face, despite you not saying anything about it.

It made him smile.

Sweet little rabbit. No need to be shy around him. Not anymore, not after what the two of you had been through. As adorable as it was, you didn't need to have any shame around him, sweet thing. William loved every part of you and every version of you to bits. There's nothing you could do to embarrass yourself around him.

Perhaps you'd learn that by the end of the trip.

In the spirit to not living up to Mr. Afton's expectations, the hotel was a bit of a surprise as well. William knew that the place was secluded, but damn. There was hardly anyone there. From the looks of it, and the few other cars parked in the lot, there was only one or two other sets of people, not including the staff. But the staff seemed to only account for about three more people.

Not that William cared. The emptier, the better for you and him. That just meant that he could waltz you around the place even more so than he anticipated. The brit wasn't clueless. He knew how it'd look to outsiders. And older man with pretty little you on his hip. It's not that he gave a shit about it. William didn't give a fuck. He was just worried how you'd react. To peoples judgmental stares, the potential looks you would get and the comments. He hoped you wouldn't be insecure about it, if you caught onto it and/or cared. William knew that you were somewhat sensitive. If it caught you at the wrong time, you'd be a little insecure about it. And that was the last thing he wanted this week. For you to feel anything other than loved and cherished and confident. Because you were all of those things to him. All of them and more.

So, so much more.

Keep it together, William. Deal with it as it comes. Worrying about it now isn't gonna solve anything. Just focus on your little bunny. They're all that matters.

To let you sleep a little bit longer, William left you in the car with your door locked while he checked in for the both of you, and while he lugged all the bags up to the room. The hotel was one of those old-school ones with the doors facing the outside, with a dingy concrete staircase connecting the ground to the second level. The room was fortunately near the stairs, so it wasn't too hard for the brit to carry it all up there by himself.

Not that he'd ask you for help with it. But, still. Cut him some slack.

Once he was done getting everything prepared, he was finally ready to wake you up. He had turned off his car before unlocking your side of the door, and you seemed to somewhat aware again just from the loss of the noise of the engine alone. It made him feel less bad about waking you up, but he still felt bad nonetheless.

Maybe that's what compelled him to carry you up the stairs, and not take no for an answer.

"Will, please, you don't gotta do this if you don't wanna. I can walk just fine by myself!" You had mumbled into his shoulder, gripping onto the front of his sweater-vest for dear life. William's hold on you was more than secure, in a nice bridal-style fashion, but you were still a little freaked out by it. Didn't like heights, he figured.

William chuckled at your little plea. Who knew you'd still be this cute when you were scared?

How interesting.

"Bunny, I told you already, love." He responded to you, giving you a quick kiss to your cheek, "Consider this my apology for disturbing your little nap, yeah?"

He saw how you peeked over the edge of the stairs, your fingers digging further in the plush cotton of his sweater, "A-Apology accepted! Okay, you can put me do-"

"No can do, bunny. We're not even to our room yet, silly."

"William!"

The brit chuckled again and pressed another kiss to your cheek as he reached the top of the stairs. The grip you had on his vest finally released as you breathed a silent sigh of relief. The older man could feel your heartbeat slowly start to settle down.

"See, love?" He said, "That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

"No. It was somehow worse than I imagined."

"I thought you liked being carried."

"I do! But not on a tiny little staircase so high up!"

William laughed at your protests, "Fine, fine. Noted that my bunny doesn't like heights. Come on now, love. Hold on tight, yeah?"

You gave him a little nod as you leaned up a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest close to his. William could feel your heartbeat even clearer now as he shifted your weight to his left arm, supporting you with just the one limb while he used his spare to open the door. Once it was open, he returned to holding you with both arms as he stepped inside, kicking the door closed behind him. In his peripheral, William could see how you turned in his arms so that you could get a better look at the room.

For it being such an old hotel, it was actually rather nice. At least, the furniture was. The room itself (that being the walls, ceiling, and floors) was most definitely dated. But, anyone could tell that the hotel owners made at least some attempt to spruce up the place. There was plenty of well-placed art on the walls, and lots of lamps for mood-lighting. The bulbs were warm-toned too, giving the place more of a home-away-from-home feeling. There were fake plants as well, but the fakeness didn't take away from the charm. The bed looked soft, not plain and hard like a normal hotel bed. The white sheets were fitted with green accents that matched the aesthetic of the room, with lots of pillows and extra blankets. The phone on the bedside table looked fairly new as well. Not even a rotary one. Classy.

Looking around a bit more, it looked like William already took the liberty to unpack just a little bit. Some of his nicer clothes were hanging up in the closet, revealed by the slightly ajar door. Your toiletry bag was no where in sight, so it seemed like he took it into the bathroom already along with his. Nonetheless, both of your suit cases were neatly placed at the foot of the bed, waiting to be used.

It was cozy. And cute. Not anything like the Four Seasons or Ceasar's Palace, but it was cute. Had charm to it. A nice get away for a quick whim. Perfect for your purposes.

William had been studying your face as you looked around the room, a small smile on his lips as he studied your features. He liked being this close to you. Holding you close like this.

"What do you think, bunny?" He asked, after a brief pause, "Do you like it?"

You tore your gaze away from the expanse of the room, smiling at him with a little nod, "I do. It's, like, cozy. And a good size."

"It is, isn't it?" He leaned in closer to you, giving your lips a quick peck, "Do you know what the best part is, though?"

"What?"

William's smirk grew just a hair, "It's all ours. And we are completely and utterly alone."

You giggled at the brit's sentiment, "You were thinking of that line the whole ride here, weren't you?"

"Is it a crime if I was?"

"No, no. It's cute."

"Not nearly as adorable as you, my baby bunny."

As your giggles filled the room again, William leaned in closer to you, capturing your sweet lips into a kiss. He pulled your body closer to his as he walked you over to the bed, your arms still firmly around his scarred neck. The kiss was starting to deepen as he gently laid you down on the hotel bed, but the older man had to pull away. But only just long enough for him to climb on top of you, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist with ease.

Once he was steady, William dipped his head down to kiss you again, but didn't stay there as long as before. Instead, he tilted his head down more so that he was greeted with your neck. The hickies he gave you earlier were just starting to form, but where dark enough to where he could see them. He made sure to find new spots on his bunny's skin to latch on to, giving you soft, sweet, and reassuring little pecks in between.

Your fingers found their home in his hair right as he was laying the third bruise into your flesh, soft groans escaping past your throat every now and again. William's left hand was starting to wander past its original spot near your head, making its way down your chest and stomach to your hips and waist. You could feel his calloused fingers rub gentle circles into your skin every now and again.

"Mmmph," You groaned quietly, the brit already working on the fourth mark for you to adorn, "Will... I missed you."

William let out a low chuckle, the bass of which vibrating gently against your neck muscles, and even in the middle of your chest.

"Sweet bunny," he whispered to you, peppering your jaw with a few short, soft kisses, "I missed you too, my darling. So so much."

His hand was palming the hem of your shirt now, his fingers slipping just past the cloth. William could feel his pants growing tighter as he nipped at your collarbones, hoping to elicit more of his cute bunny's sweet sounds out.

Your little fingers slipped out of his hair, sliding down to his shoulders instead, "It's embarrassing but... I couldn't stop thinking about you. I just... I wanted you."

William had to choke back a deep, low groan as he stopped his kisses to look at you, sitting up so he could look down at your blushy face. He could feel how devilish his smirk was as he looked into your half-lidded, sweet little eyes. His fingers were slowly sliding up under your shirt now, ghosting over the soft, smooth skin of your waist and tummy. He wondered if you could already feel his hard-on, because damn did he fucking feel it.

Precious bunny. His sweet baby rabbit.

You liked riling him up like that, didn't you?

"Did you now?" He teased you, raising one his brows as he stared right into your eyes.

He could see how your cheeks heated up even further as you nodded, much to his dismay. He tutted your actions, stopping the smooth, loving strokes of his fingers under your shirt.

"Silly bunny," he said, just loud enough so you could hear, "Don't tell me you forgot already. I need to hear your words, darling. Remember?"

You nodded again, "R-Right, yeah... I'm sorry."

"There's my good bunny. Now, let's try that again, alright?"

"Yes sir."

William had to choke back another groan, "Did you really miss me that much, little one?"

"I did... Yes sir. I missed you so much..."

A deep, low hum escaped the back of the brit's throat as his smirk regrew, his fingers under your shirt resuming their movements.

"Oh, my baby bunny." He hummed, "If only you knew just how much I missed you too."

William leaned down to you again, peppering your jaw with kisses as he whispered in your ear.

"Let's make up for some lost time then, yeah?" He said, "Would you like sir's help with that, little rabbit? Since you missed him that much?"

You couldn't help but let out a little whine, "Y-Yes, sir. Please..."

A low chuckle escaped past the brit's lips, "Good bunny. Now, just relax, yeah? Let me take care of you."

Giving your sweet, puffy lips one last quick kiss, William shifted downwards towards your stomach, gently pushing up your shirt on the way down. Now exposed to your belly underneath, William's hands found their home on either side of your hips as he pressed his kisses into the skin, holding you squarely in place. The older man could hear your soft whines as his hands shifted down to the hem of your pants, biting small little red marks into your skin. He could tell that you were getting antsy, from the way your legs would twitch every now and again beside him.

It was adorable. You were so so cute. He loved you so fucking much. This was only the second time, and you still wanted him this much? Fucking god. It made him so hard just thinking about it.

His kisses were starting to go lower now, his half-lidded stormy grey eyes stealing glances up at your face every now and again.

"Someone's a little impatient this afternoon it seems." He teased you with another smirk, making you whine again.

"I-I'm sorry," you squeaked, "I can't help it..."

William chuckled again, "There's no need to apologize, love. I-"

Before William could finish his sentence, he was rudely interrupted by a low yet loud grumbling noise that cut through the silence of the room. A little confused, the brit sat up a little more to get a better look at your face. Your eyes were wide with your face beet-red, your lips in a thin, long line.

"Was..." he said, "Bunny, was that you?"

You nodded after a brief pause, letting out an embarrassed groan as you hid your face in your hands.

"Yesss," you hissed, "I'm sorry! I'm just really damn hungry. I haven't had anything since, like... yesterday or something."

William shifted his weight around to sit a little more comfortably, his brow knitting in concern, "Love, why didn't you tell me? You know that's not good for you."

You removed your hands from your face, but your gaze faltered a little, "Because! I-I thought I could make it to dinner, and... I liked where this was going..."

The older man couldn't help but breathe out a tiny laugh, leaning back up from his place on the bed to sit in front of you. He took your cheek into his palm and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"I'm certainly a fan as well," He said to you, rubbing soft, reassuring circles to your face, "But I can't have my baby bunny going hungry now, can I?"

"I-I'll be fine! I promise..."

William tutted you again, but this time not as teasingly, "No, no, love. These sorts of things come before, yeah? You need to keep up your energy, little one. And I want my bunny to be healthy, right? And happy?"

"Yeah..."

He leaned in to give you another kiss, "Exactly. Now how about we go and find you something to eat, alright?"

Your gaze dropped down to the side as you gave him another nod, placing your little hand on top of his own that was still nestled on your face, "I'm sorry... I totally killed the mood."

The brit shushed you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, then another one to your lips.

"You didn't kill anything, love," he said, "Don't apologize. Your health and needs always come first. Besides, we have a whole week together, yeah?"

William saw your little smile creep back into the corners of your mouth, "Yeah."

"Exactly, love. So don't feel sorry for anything. It's alright. Sir isn't going to go anywhere, alright? Let's just find you a little something first. You'll need it for if you want to continue this later."

~~~

Fortunately for William, he didn't have to search too far to find you something to eat. The hotel had a small deli offset from the main lobby, and it looked decent. He didn't feel too uncomfortable with having you get something from there, since it looked clean and fresh enough for his standards. He didn't want you eating some sort of junk, not if he couldn't help it.

You were better than that.

The sun had started to creep down the horizon when the two of you entered the deli. William didn't think that he had kept you in the room for that long, but turns out he did. That was fine though, he certainly did enjoy the short bit of fun the two of you had. Sure it didn't go all the way, but it was more than fine. It was only day one of seven, there'd be plenty of time for him to play with his bunny later. What was important now was keeping you fed. So you didn't keel over in the middle of him having his fun with you, and (more importantly) so he was doing a good job of taking care of you. Like he promised.

William didn't much feel like interacting with the people working behind the counter, so he stayed behind while you ordered for yourself. Of course, he kept you within his sight while you did, but you seemed to be doing fine. You had a little bit of social anxiety, but it was manageable. His bunny was capable. And you seemed braver with him around. Perhaps you unconsciously knew that he'd swoop in to save you, if you ran into trouble.

Of course he would. He promised that to you, too. He was your hero.

The brit was standing next to the entrance door while he watched you order, feeling the low Utah sun creeping down his back through the window. Thankfully it was a smoking zone, so he was able to enjoy a cigarette for the time being. Far enough away from you to keep you from breathing in the second-hand smoke, but not far away to where he had to be away from you. A win-win.

The older man took a puff from his cigarette as he watched you walked up to the register. He had given you his wallet to pay for your food, and it seemed like they weren't having any issue with you using a credit card that didn't have your name on it.

Not that they would, but still. He was a bit paranoid when it came to his bunny.

After double checking that you were okay, William turned around and put his free hand in his pocket, looking out the window to the scenery outside.

He had to admit; the location of the hotel was actually quite nice. For Utah, anyway. There were lots of nice trees and wildflowers, and a cool breeze that liked to roll through frequently. It was much better looking than he had remembered. When coming here with his family long ago, he remembered it quite differently. More drab and grey, not nearly as much color as he was looking at. Perhaps it was just because of the different contexts. When his family still all lived together under the same roof, it was one of the most depressing times he remembers in his life. So fucking boring. And a non-stop headache of three children constantly screaming, crying, and running around. With that bitch always nagging him to pay attention to her and the children, like he gave a damn about any of them.

William took a long, drawn out inhale of the nicotine.

God. He did not fucking miss that.

But, with you, it was so much better. You were a thousand times better than his family ever was. You weren't fucking annoying, for one, and you weren't loud either. You were soft and quiet, and sweet and caring. And you were very much in love with him, much like how he was in love with you. You were smarter than any of his family was, and it didn't feel painful to have to explain things to you. When you listened, you actually listened, and cared about what he had to say. Giving you kisses and other forms of affection didn't feel like a chore. He was happy to do it because he wanted to do it. He couldn't get enough of your body next to his. Much different from what he felt for his ex and the little brats he made with her.

That was the biggest difference, he figured. William loved you, and you reciprocated. He never fucking loved his family. Not even for a moment.

He was glad to be so close to never having to speak to them again.

Taking a quick glance over his shoulder to you, William made sure you were still okay as he tamped out some of the ash from the cigarette. Once he had his confirmation, William shifted his gaze back out the window, inhaling another puff of nicotine.

His eyes were scanning over the few cars that were in the parking lot this time as he stared out the window. Not that he was that into cars, but he did think a few were good to look at. There was of course his own, which was probably the most expensive that parking lot had ever seen. There was a few other nice cars, but not much to bat an eye at. A green ford. A blue Volkswagen. A red convertible. A...

...

Wait.

William blinked his eyes to try and readjust his vision. Not that he had much issues with his sight, but surely he had caught something in there. He even went to the extra measure to rub them with his free hand. He opened his eyes again to scan the parking lot again.

He felt a snap of cold wash over him.

No.

God please fucking no.

There was no fucking way. He had to be seeing shit. He had to be. He knew that fucking red car. He knew it all too well. Even though the last time he saw it was-

"Will?"

William nearly flinched as he heard your soft voice behind him, turning around a bit too quickly at the sound. Smoke was still pluming out of his cigarette, and he could feel his grey eyes were a bit wider than they should've been. You didn't seem to notice, though, or at least didn't care. You were smiling up at him so sweetly, holding up a brown paper bag to show him.

"I'm all done." You said, "I got you one too, I hope that's okay."

William gave you a little nod of approval, trying his best to reciprocate your smile, "Yes, that's fine, bunny. Thank you, that was very..."

The older man didn't finish his sentence, taking another hit of nicotine as he looked outside again.

It was gone.

Thank god it was fucking gone.

"Um, Will?" He heard you say, "Is everything okay?"

William dropped the remainder of his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it to put it out, turning back to you with the best smile he could muster. Fuck, was he sweating? He couldn't tell.

Keep it fucking together, William.

"Y-Yes, bunny, of course." He said, clearing his throat, "Sorry, I just lost my train of thought. Let's get back to the room, alright?"

Before you could agree, William grabbed you by the hand and nearly drug you out of the deli. He could hear a little cry of protest from his quick actions come from you, but he didn't pay attention to what it was.

All he was focused on was getting back to where it was safe. Before everything got fucked up.

~~~

The sun had rapidly started setting faster and faster once William got you back into the room. You seemed to be much hungrier than you had realized, since you hadn't said anything since you had sat at the corner of the bed with your sandwich in your hands, munching away without a care in the world. You had turned on the TV to some local news channel to have something to watch, your eyes glued to the screen as you ate.

William, however, hadn't joined you by your side. At least, not yet.

He was too occupied gazing out the windows every few seconds and pacing around the room, only broken up by him taking a seat in one of the chairs every couple of minutes. He hadn't said much since he got back from the deli, and he knew it. But he just... couldn't.

He couldn't remember the last time he was this paranoid.

He wanted to start smoking again, but not with you in the room. He wouldn't want you to breathe in the second hand smoke. Never. But fuck. Did he fucking want to.

It was a balancing act made in hell. Trying to be calm for you, but also quelling his own worries. He stood up for what felt like the 100th time that afternoon and pulled back the curtains, looking out to be greeted yet again with an empty, poorly-lit parking lot.

William felt his brow knit together. How the fuck would he have been found out this early? About you? About everything?

It didn't make any sense. Those idiots couldn't have found him out this fucking early on. He covered his tracks. He fucking lied where he had to. He planned every fucking thing town to the most minute detail. Dotted the i's. Crossed the t's. There was no way they got that smart. No fucking way.

But then why was that goddamned car outside?

William sighed to himself annoyedly, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

He was going to drive himself crazy. This wasn't how he wanted to spend this week with you. Not in the slightest. All he fucking wanted was a nice, peaceful time away with his bunny. But no. He didn't fucking get that either. He didn't ever get shit he wanted. He has you, but that's it. But where was the fun if he couldn't play with you like he wanted? Having to dart from place to place like this? Maybe he needs to step up his game. Do more. Take you further out of town. Change his name perhaps. It's not fair to you, but you'd have to change yours as well. Maybe when you were at the courthouse, he could-

"Will?"

Over the sound of the hum of the TV, William could hear you calling out to him. He opened his eyes and turned away from the window, closing the blinds again as he did. He was greeted with the sight of you still perched on the edge of the bed, your cute eyes filled with a twinge of worry. Your sandwich wrapper was balled up and thrown beside you. How long had he been at this?

"Will," you said again, "are you okay?"

William cleared his throat at your question, putting on the best smile he could muster, "Of course, bunny. Why?"

"You just seem, like... paranoid."

Shit. He forgot how smart you could be.

"No, no, I'm not paranoid, love." He said, "Not at all."

The older man saw how you frowned at his response, prompting you to stand up from off the bed. He watched as you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands found their home on either side of your waist, feeling how his muscles relax at the feeling of your touch. You even stood up on your tip-toes, pressing a kiss to his lips. In waves, he could feel his pent-up stress wash out of him, his hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly. Your warmth was comforting to him, it seems. Just having you in his arms was.

Sweetest little one.

"Will," you said to him, "Its okay. You can tell me if something's bothering you."

William felt himself smile genuinely this time, lifting up one of his hands to rest on your cheek.

"Oh, my darling bunny," He mumbled, just loud enough so you could hear, "noting gets past you, does it, my love?

You smiled up at him, nuzzling your cheek against his large palm, "It's had to miss when you're pacing around like crazy."

William couldn't help but chuckle, breathing a sigh of out his nose afterward.

"I apologize, bunny, I just..." William rubbed small, loving circles onto your cheek with his thumb. He had to think of a way to put this so you weren't scared, but that proved to be challenging. He settled on telling you part of the truth, "It's been a while since I've had time off. I think I'm just getting used to not having anything to do, yeah?"

"Yeah, I get that. But you should try to relax, Will. Pacing around and being all, like, fidgety isn't gonna help. You're working yourself up."

William let out a hum at your words, leaning down to kiss your lips again.

You were right. Worrying isn't helping anything. He needed to chill the fuck out. He was scaring you. You wouldn't ever admit it to him, but he was. He could tell. And that was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted his bunny to be happy. And feel loved and safe. And him being so paranoid wasn't going to accomplish that. He was probably just tired after a long drive and a few restless nights. A red convertible was a popular car. It didn't necessarily mean what he thought it was. He was just worried about things going wrong, even though he was the one telling you it'd all be alright. Oh, poor bunny. He didn't mean to frighten you like that. He was just being a fool. He hoped you could forgive him. He was just glad to have you there to pull him back to reality.

His had slid down your waist, latching onto your hip and pulling you closer to him.

His perfect bunny. The love of his life. HIs darling little one. His.

Just as the kiss was starting to deepen, William pulled away from you with a smirk, his lips hovering just inches away from your own. He could feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks onto his as he looked into your eyes. The older man's hands were deft, one expertly caressing the side of your body, the other the side of your face. He could tell you were already enjoying yourself, your tiny fingers digging into the back of his sweater-vest. Perhaps you were feeling pent-up from earlier. There's no shame if you were, sweet thing. Hell, he was probably more in need of you then you were of him. Heaven knows how much he tried to relieve himself in your absence.

But, even though you were right there in front of him, William liked to take his time with you. Feel you. Touch you. Savor you.

"You've been so so good for me, bunny." He mumbled to you, his thumb dipping down to feel your rosy, swollen bottom lip, "Did you know that? You've been a perfect bunny for me."

William watched you swallow and nod before you said anything, "I... I like to think I'm good at following the rules..."

The brit chuckled, "It seems you are, love."

He paused briefly to give your lips another quick kiss, finding it too hard to resist.

"And do you know what happens when you're a good baby bunny for sir, darling?" He asked you after pulling away again.

You took a little breath before you said anything. He could tell that you were getting shy again, but knew he wanted your words. You were learning. Good. He barely had to teach you a thing.

"I... I-I get a reward." you mumbled.

William let out a pleased hum, giving a kiss to your temple, "Good bunny. That's right, you get everything your pretty little heart desires, yeah?"

"Yes sir."

"And tell me, little one. Who gives you all those nice things, hm?"

"Y-You do, sir..."

"Good bunny. And who is the only one that gets to give you those things?"

"Sir is."

William's finger dipped under your chin, lifting up the bone to make sure you looked him dead in the eyes.

"And whos bunny are you, little one?"

Your cheeks were burning hot now, "Y-Yours, sir... I'm yours."

Sir let out another pleased hum, pressing another quick kiss to his bunny's sweet little lips.

"Good, bunny, very good. Now, how about you tell me what you'd like for your reward, yeah? Anything your little heart desires, love. It'll be yours."

He watched you wet your lips before you spoke, barely above a whisper.

"You."

~~~

It was really fucking cold when you woke up.

It didn't help that the blankets were already halfway off of you, and that you were butt-ass naked underneath, except for your lower underwear. Maybe that's what woke you up to begin with. You couldn't think of any other reason why.

When you cracked your eyes open, you were luckily facing the bedside table, the digital alarm clock's red light shining in the dark void of the hotel room. Probably the only light source within the room William had gotten you. It took you a few rubs of your eyes to finally read it.

2:47 AM. Tuesday morning.

You rubbed your eyes a bit more as you felt your body start to wake up along with the rest of you. After moving around a bit, you were already starting to feel warmer than you did earlier. You knew that you should've put on pajamas. Around this time, Utah got freezing at night. It was practically the desert out here, but damn. It made you grateful to live in a time with heater systems being invented. But, still. The best heater in the world wouldn't do shit if you were butt-ass naked.

Coupled with the fact that you were freezing, you also felt a little hungry. The sandwich from earlier was filling, but after tonight you knew you had spent a lot of energy.

You took a glance over your shoulder at where that energy had went.

Of course, William was sound asleep behind you. Now that you were a bit more woken up, you could feel his arms wrapped snugly around your middle, your back pressed against this large, scarred yet toned chest. You knew that he had missed you while you were away. You missed him too. But turns out, oh god did he fucking miss you. He didn't want just one round. He wanted two. Then three. Then four. Then almost five, if you hadn't been nearly passing out from exhaustion by the start.

Not that you were complaining. Sex with William was amazing.

He was just amazing in general. He was kind to you. Understanding, too. And so so loving. You could tell that he really cared. Although he had some... odd ways of showing it.

But you didn't mind. It's what you signed up for. It's what you wanted. You couldn't help but think back to the days where you had a bit of a crush on him. Blushing whenever he said hi to you. Getting him to talk just to listen to that smoking accent of his. Did that make you a bad person? Crushing on your best friend's dad? Maybe it did. But, you couldn't help it. He was just so... charming.

Who knew you'd end up like this? With him? After all that time?

It was a bit hard to believe it was all real, at times.

Like it was too good to be true.

All you wanted was to just cuddle back up to William and drift back off. Wake up to him kissing you good morning, with a nice breakfast like he did before. But, no. You were too damn cold. And too damn hungry to do that, to wait until the morning. You needed to put on some pajamas, and find something to eat before you starved or froze to death. You couldn't imagine the horror your boyfriend would have if he found you dead next to him in the morning, all because he was too needy to let you put on a fucking shirt the night prior.

You'd save him the heart-attack. With all those damn cigarettes he smoked, he needed to be saved from it.

Slowly, you started to peel yourself away from the older man, careful not to go too fast. You still weren't too sure about just how heavy a sleeper Will was or not, but wanted to be careful in case he wasn't one at all. After a lot of wiggling and shuffling around, you were finally able to get out of your boyfriend's hold without incident. You shifted your legs out from under the covers, sitting on the edge of the bed as you rubbed your eyes one last time. They were pretty adjusted to the dark now, so you were able to see what was around you.

At the foot of the bed, you saw the discarded white t-shirt William had thrown off earlier. He used it as an undershirt, but it still looked clean enough. It'd do for the time being.

Picking up the article of clothing, you pulled it on over your head, letting it fall down your body. It was a little big on you, but you just found that to be more comfortable. And it smelled like Will. A win-win.

Scanning the ground again, you were able to see your sweatpants from earlier, though a little farther away this time. Reaching out with your leg, you were able to catch the pants on your toe and bring it back closer to you. You reached down and grabbed the pants off the floor, loosely holding it in your hands.

You were just about to stand up to put them on, but suddenly felt a large, heavy hand grab onto your wrist.

A gasp escaped your lips as you quickly spun around to see its source, only to be greeted with a familiar sight.

Him.

"Oh my god, Will!" You mutedly exclaimed, your voice barely above a whisper, "You scared the shit outta me!"

He asked, his voice low and laced with sleep, "What are you doing?"

"It got cold," you explained, "so I'm putting on some clothes. I was also gonna go look for a vending machine. I can bring you-"

"No."

You blinked at William's interjection, feeling your lips part as you did. Even in the cover of darkness, you could see the seriousness in his grey eyes. Feel it in the way he grabbed onto you. He didn't want you to get up.

"Just..." he continued, "come back to bed, bunny. I'll hold you to make it warmer."

You smiled at his request. It was late. Will just must be tired. You could understand his clinginess.

"You were already holding me, Will." you explained to him, standing up to pull on your pants before sitting down again. William's hand returned to your arm as you did so.

"It'll be warmer with your clothes." He said, "Come here, bunny. I don't want you to leave."

You breathed out a little laugh as you leaned forward to him, giving him a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I'll just be gone a few minutes. I'll come right back. I promise." you reassured him, sliding your hand down to give his hand a squeeze.

"You promise?"

"Yes, Will."

"...Fine. Just don't be too long."

"I won't, I won't. Just a few minutes."

You gave him one last kiss on the cheek before standing up, putting on your shoes, and slipping out of the door. You felt bad leaving your boyfriend after he asked you to stay, but you were starving. But, you knew you could make good on your promise. You already knew were the vending machines were, and what sort of thing you'd want from them.

You padded your feet down the small staircase as you felt the chilly air wash over you, hugging your arms tight around you. You had to go slow down the stairs, since you were still sore from earlier, but tried to hurry as best you could. Once you were at the bottom, you turned the corner into the small area which housed the ice and vending machines. The whir from them was almost hypnotic, and it made you yawn. After scanning through the array of items available to you, you realized that this was gonna be a tougher choice than you thought.

The quietness of the night made it easier for you to think as you leaned against the wall. But, it also made you more aware.

After a few minutes, you could hear the sound of footsteps padding over to you in the distance. By their pitch, you could distinguish that whoever it was, they were wearing heels.

Heels? At this hour? Maybe someone coming from a party. Or someone's plane just landed a few hours ago. Who were you to judge?

Your eyes still on the vending machine, you listened as the footsteps drew nearer to where you were. Weird, but...

The staircase was right behind you. They were probably just going up there.

Why were you so nervous?

The heel-clacking was getting louder now.

Shit.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the source of the footsteps. A woman had come up to the vending machine too, standing a good amount of feet away from you.

Shit. Should you just ignore her? Or was that rude?

It had to be rude. No to at least say hi.

Picking up your gaze from off the array of snacks, you looked over to the woman. You were a bit surprised to see she was already looking at you.

Or, at a minimum, you think she was.

The woman had a beautiful strawberry-blonde colored head of long, feathered hair, a red bandana holding some of the sides away from her face. She was wearing sunglasses (odd, for this time of night), but you could see the freckles that lined her cheeks underneath them. Her dress was long and flowy; a nice pastel-pink color with small, red rosettes lining the knee-length skirt. Her purse was tucked neatly into the crook of her arm, balancing on the top of her wide hip. Her heels were red too, as well as the lipstick she wore.

Should you be creeped out? By someone so casual this late at night?

Only one way to find out.

You gave your best polite smile to the lady, internally cringing at the awkward feeling it gave you.

"Cold night, yeah?" You asked her as some form of greeting. Not your best work, but hey. You weren't good with this sort of thing.

"Definitely, sugar." She told you in response, allowing you to hear her deep, rich southern accent, "much too cold for that get-up you got here."

You tried to laugh as polite as you could, "Yeah, well, I'm not staying out here too long. Just needed some air."

The woman nodded, "I understand. I wouldn't want to be around him too much, either."

It took you a second to process what the lady said, but you felt the chill run down your body once you understood.

What? No, there's no way...

She must be mistaken.

"I..." you stammered out, "S-sorry, I don't... I-I think you got the wrong person."

The woman's small smile grew, but not out of amusement. She seemed... sad. You watched as she took off her sunglasses, neatly placing them on top of her head to rest on her bandana. She had gorgeous green eyes. The type you'd only seen in movies before.

"You are (Y/N), right?" she asked.

You felt another chill run down your spine. If your legs weren't so sore, you knew you'd be running by now.

"H-How..." you mumbled, "H-how do you know my name..?"

The woman's brow bent downwards now, her eyes full of sympathy.

"Oh, don't be frightened now, mudbug. How rude of me. My name's Clara, sugar. But you probably know me better as Mikey's momma."

~~~

It was sad. It was sad, but painfully true.

The second Clara looked at you, she could tell exactly why her ex-husband wanted anything to do with you.

You were a cute and timid little thing. Young, and so full of life. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for what the world had to offer you. You had to be smart too. William wouldn't tolerate you if you weren't. Skittish, but she couldn't blame you for that. She had come up to you in the middle of the night. You were probably tired, and god knows what kind of shit William put into your head by now. She figured it had to be a good amount. It was obvious you were wearing his shirt, and the hickies covering your neck were even more so. And he had drug you all the way out here. You were probably so naïve and kind. She could see it in your eyes.

She wondered if you already loved him.

How tonight went would tell her.

She watched you as you continued to back away from her. She knew that you were trying to make a break for the stairs, but weren't trying to be rude at the same time. Clara could feel the sympathetic smile on her face.

You poor, poor thing.

"L-Look, ma'am, I..." you stammered out, "I don't want any trouble, I just-"

"No, sugar, no," Clara said back to you, keeping her voice low and calm to not frighten you any further, "I'm not lookin' for trouble either."

You looked at the older woman for a moment, eyeing her up and down in silence.

"Then what do you want?" you asked.

Clara shot you another sympathetic smile, shifting her purse down to rest in the crook of her elbow. She reached inside and pulled out a manila envelope, folded if half to fit in her bag.

"Now, I know you must be really confused, pumpkin," she explained, "but Mikey and I are just... we're a little concerned for you. And I just wanna ask you for a few minutes of your time to show you a few things, okay?"

The woman saw how your brows knitted together, partially in confusion, but partially in anger.

"Concerned for me?" you questioned, "Why? I'm sorry if this is rude, ma'am but... you don't even know me."

"Trust me, darlin', Mikey's told me plenty about you before."

"Then he should know that I'm fine. I'm not in any danger, so if he set you up to this just... please tell him that I'm okay."

Damn. You were smart.

"(Y/N)," Clara said, "I know you might feel like you are, but trust me when I say-"

"Why should I trust you? S-Sorry, I know that's rude but..."

"Because I've been in your shoes before, pumpkin. I know all of that man up there's tricks to keep you were he wants."

"But hasn't it been like, years since y'all split up? Maybe he's changed."

"People like him don't ever change, sugar. In all the years I've known him, he hasn't changed not one bit."

Clara could tell that you were getting annoyed, and defensive too. She couldn't help but wonder if her ex was starting to rub off on you in that regard. Were you like this before? She'd never know.

"Look, ma'am," you said, starting to back away to the staircase, "I appreciate the concern, but I am not in any sorta danger here. I am perfectly fine, and I know what I'm doing. So, please, thanks and goodni-"

"He calls you his bunny, doesn't he?"

That certainly got your attention. You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes wide open to the size of dinner plates, all the color drained from your face. Clara smiled to cover up the anguish inside. That's what she was hoping to avoid. That's the one thing she wished he spared you from. But, deep down, she knew. Clara knew that he'd want nothing to do with you unless you were that.

Clara watched you take a few steps closer to her, your eyes till wide open as you looked up to her face. She saw you were trembling, but wasn't sure if it was because you were scared, or because of the cold.

"H-How..." you whispered, your voice barely audible, "How did you know that?"

The woman shot you another sympathetic smile, "How about we find a place to sit down, sugar?"

~~~

tags: @guinea-pig16 @the-official-memester @randomwriteralan @mrsrogerwaters @laylaaftonshit @cherry-slushee @insert-memical-username @mrssafton @horrorking2000 @artist-anon08 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @jamiethenerdymonster @kimyona-san @purplewolfcoffee @violetlmfaoo @reapersimps @wawuwe @lovinglenore @zoey5252 @000-mika

apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!!

[an0nymousmessenger]

A Thousand Wishes Unheard

Synopsis: You’ve always known there was a before Gojo Satoru, then there was during Gojo Satoru…you just never thought that one day there would be an after Gojo Satoru. Word Count: 9.06k tags. fluff, angst, hurt no comfort ( a little bit if you squint ) note: A bit rushed. The copium is real. Ao3 Link Part 2.

You’ve always known there was a before Gojo Satoru, then there was during Gojo Satoru…you just never thought that one day there would be an after Gojo Satoru.

You’ve always known Gojo Satoru. Who doesn’t? He was the strongest. He was the holder of the six eyes, master of limitless, the one that went against the King of Curses. He was your classmate. He was your friend. He was arrogant. He was condescending. He was loud. He was careful. He was kind. He was–

Gojo Satoru was a lot of things. Sometimes he was cocky, and other times he was annoying, and well– you suppose despite that, in the little crevices of your memories, he was…alright. As to you, he was just Satoru.

You remember the day you first met him, the memory was clear, and oh so very blue. You had walked past him underneath the school’s Torii gates, the one with many short stone pillars that lined up to the school. It had been a clear day, one of the clearest it had been during the season of summer.

He had been walking with Shoko and Suguru when you first made eye contact. You paid him little to no attention, too occupied with your hair not falling correctly in the right place. It was your first time attending Jujustu Tech and you were curious– excited, and a bit nervous.

You had been born with your clan’s technique, and thus here you were, sent off to attend a school to train and raise you to hone those abilities. Although the path here wasn’t easy, you still made it.

However, this story is for another time…This story…it wasn’t about you...well- it was sort of. It was mainly about him. The boy that you had walked past under the clear blue sky, not even noticing him properly. It was about the boy that you had no idea you would one day spend so much time with.

Little did you know after that short meeting under the stone gate that you would see him again not long after when you walked into your first class. He was leaning in his chair and about to fall off.

He really did fall off when you opened the door.

Back then you were both first years. Young, naive, and free. You would find yourself spending a lot of time with your new classmates, training, talking, going on missions, and small getaways.

Your secret little adventures away from the world of curses.

That summer was one that you couldn’t forget even if you tried.

It was one of the rare collections of memories that you held close, the one where you got to see a side of Gojo Satoru’s youth.

“Yo~!”

A loud and obnoxious voice came from behind, telling you exactly who had been the first one to arrive back at the beach.

Unfortunately for you, it just had to be the annoying white-haired teen of the group.

“Guess what!”

“...What?” You replied a bit late while letting out a long tired sigh. 

It had been a long day, and although a few moments before you had hoped the others would hurry it up, now you wished that you could have gotten a few more moments alone to spend watching the setting sun fall beneath the waves.

“Oh c’mon! Guess!”

You could already feel a headache coming up.

Just as you were about to turn your head around and give Satoru a wack on the back of his legs, hoping to trip him with your hand, he bent down to your eye level, meeting your deadpanned gaze.

He put on his iconic pouting face, “Can’t turn around, that’s cheating!”

You couldn’t help but let out an amused snort, “As if that’s above you.”

He grinned, “Are you suggesting I’m a cheater?”

“The very worst,” you nodded.

He did a dramatic fainting gesture to his heart while putting on his best look of surprise and betrayal before gasping aloud, “Me!? Cheat?”

He leaned backward, “How so? How could you think so low of m-“

He was about to continue his nonsensical rant but you had cut him short with a quick jap to his sides.

In the end, you had managed to figure out that he was the one who had brought the firecrackers. Of course, you thought. Though you weren’t exactly sure how he managed to come into possession of them. Satoru with firecrackers was like giving a baby a chainsaw.

Okay, maybe not that bad, but still– the image was still there.

Perhaps he had managed to slip by Suguru’s watchful gaze when they were unloading stuff from the van.

You were interrupted from your thoughts when you heard the sound of tearing.

Looking next to you to where the white-haired gremlin was, you saw that he was already opening the box of firecrackers.

“Not going to wait for Suguru and Shoko?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Nah, It’s not like I’m going to burn through all of them, don’t worry about it!.”

You mutter something like ‘overgrown child’ under your breath as you watch him continue to tear and rip the package apart like a rabid animal.

Though, you knew it was because he was probably really ecstatic at the prospect of a little firework display at the tip of your fingertips. You could tell from the light in his eyes that shined brightly that you managed to glimpse from the side of his glasses.

You held back a laugh, remembering you and Suguru describing what a firecracker to Satoru was earlier when you suggested bringing them out when the sunset as you had packed them the night before.

The shock and look on his face was something that was hard to forget. Being from one of the three top clans he was spoiled, that was a given. But even with that, it came to you as a shock that he had never been able to play with a firecracker.

Though after some thought you thought it did make sense. The elders may have thought it was dangerous, and Satoru being the wielder of those rare eyes after a few hundred years…well it was self-explanatory when you put it like that.

Eventually, he managed to get two out. 

‘Like hell, he won’t burn through all of them before they get here,’ you mentally comment, but making no sound or move to stop him. You continue to keep your eye on him.

Just so he doesn’t commit arson– of course.

He held out the long stick before lighting the two of them with his lighter.

Instantly the firecracker came to life, bustling and crackling with little mini explosions. It lit up the surrounding area to a small degree now that the sun had set to some degree, illuminating Satoru’s smiling face. 

“Hello? Earth to his highness?” You ask with a light amused tone as you watch him, entranced by the mini light show.

Bringing him back to earth with your words and that nickname that you and Shoko would sometimes call him from how large his ego was, he tore his eyes away from the small firework display to finally look at you.

“Ah! Can’t forget this, can I?” Just as you were about to ask what he meant by that he suddenly offered you his other firecracker with a bright smile.

Satoru has always had a pretty smile. You had noticed that very soon into the time you got to know him. It was bright and contagious. His energy was contagious.

And that light somehow made that smile brighter, and possibly even more unearthly. Though you would never admit it aloud. 

A little taken aback, you held out your hand nonetheless and grabbed ahold of the firecracker he was passing to you.

Your hands brushed, if only barely before he retracted them, going back to stare at his own firecracker with that childlike amazement.

You sat there in confusion as you looked at him, unable to take your eyes away, your hands still outstretched, holding onto the firecracker.

It was only after the firecracker was almost ⅖ of the way done that you finally came to your senses and retracted your aching arm.

You brought the mini firework show closer to you, but not too close to get harmed. 

The tiny explosions were nice to pretty, you supposed.

You smiled. It was a small but noticeable smile. It was most likely then that you decided Satoru wasn’t so bad…not really, anyway. He was okay…you supposed.

Little did you know that that moment soon became one of your most hidden and treasured memories, kept away behind locked doors and secrets. A memory that you will always hold close, a priceless thing.

It was the first of many times that you wished that moment had lasted just a little longer.

You were too lost in your own thought that you failed to notice sometime later– before the firecrackers died and Shoko and Suguru had arrived and brought the snacks, and before talked late into the night underneath the watchful gaze of the stars while lighting more firecrackers, so many in fact, that someone had noticed them and kicked them out. 

Before they were all on the way back to Jujustu Tech in the van with Suguru driving and Shoko playing the music, as Satoru had his head against the window, occasionally bumping against the glass with a few bumps in the road, and with you tapping a soft tune as you looked out the window at the scenery.

Before all that, he– instead of staring at his firecracker, had instead focused his eyes on you at that moment.

It wasn’t anything drastic, but a slight tilt of the head, a slight breathless intake of breath. He focused, not on the mini lights to call for his attention, but on the way your hair flew with the slight breeze, your small but delicate smile that Satoru had sometimes caught you wearing. The small smile that showcased your dimples, the way your eyes softened as you looked at the tiny fireworks display in front of you.

The sun had almost completely set behind the raging waves, and with that allowed the light to softly hit your face, and to him…at that moment you seem to appear otherworldly.

Perhaps it was then that Satoru…

Whatever he wanted to say then was muffled out by the seaside wind.

Gojo Satoru was not always the strongest. Sure, he had been born with the limitless technique as well as the legendary six eyes, but despite that– there was a period where he was still Satoru. Just Satoru. Not some strongest sorcerer of the century or what-not. 

Yet ever since that day– that year– that summer. That blue spring changed everything. Ever since that day Gojo Satoru has been known as the strongest. It was official, there was no doubt. 

It was then that the line that you were now so familiar with was drawn between Gojo Satoru and others. Others such as you.

It was then that almost every moment after felt as if you weren’t really with Satoru, no…not really. Despite talking to him, hanging out with him, hell– even laughing with him…it felt as if something was missing.

As you weren’t really talking with Satoru. You were talking with Gojo Satoru. It was as if even though he was right next to you, when you reach out a hand he was suddenly miles and miles away.

Because that was who he was. Untouchable. The strongest.

Years past…just like that. Through those years you had grown into a fine sorcerer. You were capable, and strong in your own league. Grade 1, and later in your late 20s you would be promoted to semi-grade-1. 

You trained and trained; you wanted to forget, wanted to better yourself so that what happened that summer wouldn’t happen again. And so you eventually made it, you surpassed your limits and grew as a sorcerer, as a person, and eventually became an author in your off time. 

Before coming to Jujustu Tech you were always fond of writing. It was an escape and something that easily passed the time.

A few of your works even blew up, earning you a little extra cash. Not that you needed any, being a sorcerer provided you with enough income.

Though you still kept on writing. It wasn’t for the money, but for the story, you could create. 

Although you would never admit it, in many of your famous published works, the characters in your novels were often based on the people in your life.

Which is why you never brought it up.

It had little to do with the fact that one of your most popular and well-liked character who is loved by all of your readers being based on some annoying white-haired man. 

It had been an accident. Really!

But you were ready to shoot yourself if your friends ever found out.

Well…it wasn’t like that man, the person you prayed about every day for him to never come across that book, was likely to find out.

As the lot of you grew older and older you also grew distant.

Shoko became a doctor and was mostly too occupied in her laboratory at Jujustu Tech while Utahime, Nanami, who you were glad to rejoin the Jujustu World, and Gojo… were all busy with their missions halfway across the world. You were too, so it was only natural.

You made attempts to get them together again– just to hang out, like old times. But it almost never worked out, everyone was too busy…and on the off chances that a few of them managed to make time, Gojo was never there.

The strongest…that word felt bitter on your tongue. It felt like that was preventing you from seeing your friend again. A friend that you had missed.

Yet there were still those moments, those rare moments where you were able to cross that line and reach him– if only barely. Those little accidents where you manage to slip by.

You remember a few of them, but there was always one that stood out.

It had been a long time since that summer, but you remember finishing up a rather easy mission earlier than expected, so you decided to find a place to relax.

It was a few minutes later that you found yourself on top of one of the Jujustu Tech buildings, lying on the roof as you enjoyed the feeling of the sun against your skin.

Though your break was very short-lasted as you felt a presence, a very familiar presence, join you not a moment after. It had been quite a surprise, but all the same, a welcomed one.

Closing your eyes you breathed in the fall air. Autumn was here, and in your wholehearted opinion, the best season by far. The temperature was just right, not too cold nor hot, the leaves were turning beautiful shades of red, orange, and yellow, and everywhere smelled pleasant.

You felt yourself relax as you pressed yourself against the roof, enjoying your little moment of freedom that you found.

But eventually, you spoke up, as if to the air around you, but you knew better. Even if your eyes didn’t tell you, his scent did. It was recognizable anywhere, and if his scent didn’t, then your ears would, and even if that didn’t work, your soul could.

“If you’re here, might as well join me down here, won’t you?” 

You peek through one of your eyelids, looking past the hair that had been blown onto your face. 

Right past that there he was, the man in all of his glory, the cocky and annoying bastard.

He stood behind your head, a little higher on the part where the roof was raised, leaning down with his hands in his pocket, a little bag at his side, and peering at your unimpressed expression with a grin.

“Now, now, I didn’t think you were the type to–”

You raised your hand, threatening to wack his lanky ankles, which would cause him to lose balance and make him fall off the roof. 

But you knew you couldn’t, nothing could get past that infinity of his. But it still held the same effect after all these years as he raised both of his arms in surrender, sighing like a child as he made himself a spot next to you.

You noticed he didn’t wear his blindfold or glasses today. It somehow made him look bare. You suppose you just weren’t used to it…not having seen him without one for a very long time.

You two didn’t speak for a while, and you were afraid, not that you wanted to admit it, but just a little bit that he would leave too soon, and so you started to talk.

“Fancy seeing you here, weren’t you assigned a mission across the world in the Americas a few days ago?”

He replied back with his smug and cocky tone, coupled with that shit-eating grin, the one that he still had despite all these years, “Why? Did you miss me that badly?”

“No,” was your flat-out response.

You’ve grown used to his absence.

But did you really?

“Ouch. Come on! Shouldn’t you be happy I’m back early for once?” He whined. Somehow when it was just the two of you alone he always put on that same overgrown child act.

Not that you complained.

He hummed in fake contemplation, “Hmm. Should I tell you? It’s supposed to be a secret~ a huge one! I’ll probably get in big trouble.”

As if he’s ever been scared of the higher-ups.

You hold back an eye roll as you mutter, “On second thought— I don’t think I’m all that interested anymore.”

You were used to his antics, his usual method of craving for sympathy.

“Well,” he chuckled, “Now I’ve got to tell you, don’t I?”

“...I don’t care.” You say, biting back a tired sigh. You seem to do that a lot in his presence.

“Precisely! Since you don’t want to hear it, then now I’ve got to tell you!”

Great.

He leaned back, his hands behind his head as he began to explain his early return, “Turns out the case wasn’t as bad as the higher-ups thought it was, a misunderstanding. The curse was pretty easy to deal with, of course, it was mainly because I was there.”

Uh-huh.

You rolled your eyes.

He took a breath before continuing, “And so, I finished the mission, bought a couple of souvenirs, and decided to come back early. I figured since I had some free time on my hands I would come and visit.”

To you. To come and visit you.

“How thoughtful of you,” you remark lazily as you follow the clouds slow drift.

“Aren’t I?” He replied sitting up and grinning down at you, “So you’ve noticed!”

This guy–

Just as you were about to smack him he continued- almost hurriedly.

“I even bought you some souvenirs!” He gave you a quick glance at your unconvincing expression and added seriously, “Really! I’m being for real.”

Now that only made you more suspicious, “Did you break something of mine?”

He supports himself up with his arm, “Whaaat? What brings you to say that?”

You scrutinize him further, checking for any signs of potential an apology gift-ing face, “For all the reasons there are.” 

He rarely brings you anything, rather keeping them to himself. Though, the majority of the reason for why that is, is because all he ever buys is sweets. Now, you may appreciate having a few every so often, but the problem is the ones he buys are always…too sweet.

So, this was suspicious, to say the least. He must be trying to make up for something.

“And…because you’re you,” You decide to add.

He smiles down at you as with his other free arm lifts the gift bag from earlier, a child-like excitement showing on his face, announcing, “Specialties from the Americas!”

You look at his bag with some curiosity, and a part of you did wonder what foods from another country would taste like. 

You decided you would forgive Satoru this time…and perhaps even a little thankful.

However, that thankful feeling for his consideration soon disappeared, as fast as how fast a paper would burn when being thrown into a burning building.

“Fucking shit! Water! Water!!” You yelled as you wrenched the water bottle Satoru handed you with his shaking hands as he was too busy holding in his laughter, watching as you chugged it almost whole in one go.

Your yells echoed off the rooftop and were so loud the whole campus could probably hear you. It was actually because of this that later it was the reason Principle Yaga had found the both of you and kicked you guys out for the rest of the afternoon. 

The water didn’t help much, if at all. The burning sensation in your throat only continued to sting, a stubborn feeling that wouldn’t go away no matter how much water you downed.

You gasped roughly as if you were fighting for air, “What…the…hell…Satoru!?”

Satoru, the perpetrator, the man of all your current problems, sat next to you uncontrollably shaking, desperately trying to keep in his laughter.

He managed to calm himself down, smiling to himself as he dug into his bag for something else, “Ah! My bad! I must’ve given you the wrong thing!” 

“You're bad!? The wrong thing!?” You shout in disbelief.

You could not believe this man. He knew you couldn’t handle spice and yet he still–!

“This is the one! Here, catch,” he said as he tossed something that looked like another typical piece of sweets into the air. 

You caught it with ease, and brought it up close for closer inspection; forcing yourself to ignore the stinging that threatened to make tears spill, you checked the labels and ingredients this time more carefully.

You made a mental note to work on your English skills. Perhaps you could ask Nananmi sometime down the line.

You looked at the packaging before looking up at Satoru with a suspicious gaze.

“What is this,” you demanded, eyeing the manchild sorcerer.

He grinned, “Find out.”

“I’ll pass,” you replied, raising your arm and about to toss the candy over the rooftop when Satoru shouted, 

“Hey hey! Don’t toss that!”

You spare him an untrusting glance.

“Don’t you know those are expensive!?”

You laugh at his words, “Are you telling me the Gojo Satoru can’t afford a few more of these sweets?”

Knowing Gojo, he was probably one of the richest people in the country…sorcerer-wise anyway. Actually– scratch that. With how much his clan has, with him being the head, he probably is the richest. 

“They’re from another country! It’s a different kind of expensive!” He retorted, crossing his arms defensively and in disbelief at your daring to question his wallet.

You relent, biting back a comment on how he could probably warp there in no time to buy a few more, you bring the candy back down from the air.

The package is clutched tightly in your hands, and if it had a consciousness it would probably be shaking in fear from the intensity of your gaze.

“You promise these aren’t spicy?” You ask him, still deciding not to trust whatever answer falls from his mouth.

“When I ate them they were very sweet.”

You continued to give him a suspicious look. 

“Pinky swear,” he reaffirmed, even going all out as to holding out his pinky.

You stare at him, unimpressed.

“What! It’s the strongest bond in the world.”

“Is it now?” You ask with amusement.

He nodded enthusiastically, “A promise from the strongest, so don’t worry about it.”

A promise from him. 

You rolled your eyes, deciding to comment, “How childish,” and ignore him. 

He sighed dejectedly before looking back up, waiting for you to taste-test the foreign candy.

You slowly unwrap it, before bringing it up to your mouth. Sparing Satoru one more look, you push the candy past your lips and into your mouth.

Your eyes light up. It was…sweet. He wasn’t lying. The candy seemed to dissolve on your tongue and had this light feeling.

It…wasn’t bad.

“It’s sweet, right?” Satoru perked up.

“Yeah– it is…” You answer through the sweetness. You think that if Satoru himself could be a candy it would probably be this one.

“Told you.”

You give him a look that suggested, really? You watch him as he unwarps a different kind of candy before popping it into his mouth.

It was alright…at least he had some sort of skill for picking sweets…

…

You eventually (not too soon after) take that back.

Even though it was sweet at first, the outer layer of the candy soon dissolved and all too soon a flaming sensation filled your lungs again.

Spitting the candy out immediately you find your bottle of water from earlier, downing the rest of it this time before tossing the empty water bottle with all your might (and a little bit of cursed energy) at your now currently laughing backstabber.

He brought his head back as he laughed at your current state. The water bottle bounced off his head with a small thwack, too busy laughing to notice his infinity was off.

Was it intentional? Or was he just so used…to you?

Apparently, the sight of you fanning your mouth and trying whatever antics could help rid you of the prickling sensation now that you have no more water was something he deemed comedy gold. He fell back onto the roof and continued laughing at your misery with even tears appearing.

He tried to say something that resembled barely a sentence before dissolving back into a fit of uncontrolled laughter.

You on the other hand were too busy suffering to notice what the blindfolded man had said and instead focused on how to get rid of this burning feeling of scratching and stinging in your mouth.

That- stupid– bastard!

You should’ve known better! That blindfolded cheating cheater! Yes, you said used the word twice, because that’s exactly what he was!

Yet you weren’t too last in your own misery to notice a rare sight in front of you. He was…smiling. Satoru Gojo was smiling and laughing.

Instead of his now infamous grin, there it was– that pretty smile that often adorned his face back during the times of his youth. That smile that you thought you had lost.

The sun naturally lit up his skin, bright and clear, applying an almost angelic beauty to him.

And his laugh, you could tell this one was a real one, a real laugh. Not the ones he would do for the act, nor the ones where he did it because the situation called for it.

No…this was the real thing.

A laugh just for you.

You almost pulled out your phone to snap a picture but that was when the spice had just gotten too much, and way too out of hand.

Instead, you sigh to yourself, “Blindfolded cheater…”

As you looked at him you found yourself laughing along. It was nice, you thought. Almost like nothing had changed, almost like it was still the same. It was…nice.

You and Satoru spent the rest of the evening up on the rooftop, occasionally popping another candy into your mouths, and this time you made sure to only eat the ones you knew were safe. 

It was only a little while later when the sun had started hiding behind the trees that Satoru suddenly spoke up,

“I’m going to kill the higher-ups.”

Okay. That was a little out of nowhere.

“Oh?”

You could hear the smug and determined tone in his response, “Yeah, I’m going to tear down this messed up system.”

You don’t respond.

He lifts himself up to lean down to look at you, allowing you to see his vibrant and unearthly blue eyes in such detail as his hair fell downwards, almost touching your face as it blew with the wind. 

It was a bit ticklish.

If those eyes didn't hold heaven, you questioned its very existence.

“I’m being serious. I’m going to do it.” 

His expression and tone he had used in his voice already told you this much, and you knew that he had always hated the system. And you understood where it came from. Hell– you even hate the system.

But you knew Satoru was adamant about it, about preserving the youth of others that he himself had been stripped from.

That blue spring.

And because you knew this, you broke out into a small smile and answered in a very quiet voice, “I know. I know you will.”

He grinned, falling back onto his back, seemly satisfied as he set his gaze back up at the evening sky, decorated with purple and orange tones.

“You believe me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

How could you not believe him?

“Well,” he said, “Now I definitely will with your support.”

“Didn’t you say you were going to do it anyway?” You ask, raising a brow, but unable to keep the smile out of your tone.

“Yeah! I did! And I am. But now that I know you have my back I know for sure that I will.”

You snort at his words, knowing that your words alone would have made little effort in his pursuit, but you couldn’t help but entertain the idea anyway.

Peering to the side to look at Satoru, he wore a content smile, illuminated by the setting sun that made his hair almost glow, you find yourself pulling out your phone.

A little longer in this moment wouldn’t have hurt.

You still managed to take a photo.

It was the photo that would become the wallpaper on your phone. Mainly because Satoru had been going through it one day and found it, deciding to set it to your phone screen.

Now whenever you open your phone screen you’re reminded of that day. You think it was the last time you heard him laugh, smile that wide, and truly talk to you about him, and so you’ll treasure it close to your heart as well.

Was it too selfish to wish to see that smile again?

With that photo it was like that moment was forefeet frozen in time, the way his hair was swept up by the wind while his smile was wide and carefree. His eyes even seemed to glow even more heavenly.

If one were to ask you who Satoru Gojo was to you…you probably would have just shown them this picture. But alas you were also selfish, and so you think you’ll keep this one to yourself.

Just this one.

Time passed again.

It was around this time that your worst nightmare had come true.

This time, you heard he had become a teacher. A teacher. If you hadn’t seen it for yourself you wouldn’t have believed it.

Yuta, Maki, Panda, and Inumaki. 

They were bright and talented students, and you grew a bit fond of them. They reminded you of when you were once a student, once like them.

But why did it have to end that way?

You often found yourself in your free time helping them train and work on their combat technique. It was to the point where others would wonder who was the teacher, Gojo or you?

But you didn’t really complain, not really. You enjoyed working with them, seeing them improve, and watching them grow.

“Yuta, lower your arms by a few degrees when parrying against that, it’ll help with flowing you into another the next movement.”

Yuta nodded, readjusting her grip on his weapon as he returned back into the first stance.

“I’m ready to go again,” Yuta said.

You nod, smiling at the young boy’s determination while his friends gave him encouragement from the sides.

Yuta took a step back, his sole digging into the ground before he disappeared from view.

Only seconds later did he reappear, his katana clashing with yours.

Clang–!

He pushed off against your weapon, landing just a few feet away.

“Nice one! Again!” You call as you ready your stance once more.

You block and parry each of his attacks, letting sparks fly each time metal met metal. It was after a few times that you finally decided to go on the attack.

Pushing against the ground you flew toward’s Yuta from the side, aiming at his shoulder, only to feint last second and go for legs. To your expectations, your attack was met with his blade; a perfectly executed counter.

You step again, making your movements flow into the next attack, the head, the chest, and legs, every attack was met with a sword similar to yours.

What a scary kid, you thought, proud of his fast adaptation abilities to your attacks.

You were just about to sidestep and swing again when you heard a voice calling out your name.

“Hey! What are you guys up to without me?”

You and Yuta immediately pause mid-attack. 

You felt your shoulders sag a bit as you sighed deeply, bringing your weapon back to your side, and wiping the sweat off your face with your uniform; then turning to meet the person who had just interrupted your spar, though you already knew who it was.

“Seems like his highness was a bit busy today, don’t you think? Not showing up for your own class?” 

Satoru only shrugged as he continued to make his way down the stairs and towards you and his students, his bandages on and his hair looking like the usual porcupine. Though it did nothing to hinder his appearance.

“There’s no problem, my favorite person in the world has taken care of it for me, didn’t they?”

You roll your eyes, “As if. What if I wasn’t able to make it in today, hm? Or what if I decided I wanted to bail out?”

Not that you would ever.

Yet he only grinned and laughed, “I trust you! So there's no worry!”

You held back another tired sigh as you muttered, “This isn’t about whether you trust me or not.”

What if one day you really couldn’t make it? What if one day something happened to you or the kids? What will you do then?

He then turned towards the students, “Okay everyone! Today’s class is over!”

“What?” Maki asked, leaning on her spear as he gave her teacher a confused look.

Inumaki chirped, “Salmon.”

Which was followed by a very confused Yuta and Panda “Huh?” 

Satoru clapped his hands together, “Yup! Lesson over!”

You brought your hand up to your face and facepamed.

It was only later when you and Satoru were walking around on the streets of Toyoko that you figured out why he had ended the lesson early despite his arrival, which also explained his absence in class that day.

“So…what your saying is that the curses are getting stronger? And more intelligent?” You say, summarizing the information dump that he had just given you.

Apparently, he had been cooped up in a meeting with the higher-up, and being the head of the Gojo Clan, it was obvious his attendance was required.

This information would usually cause one to panic or be scared because it would only mean something was wrong, something was so very wrong.

Yet the man-child before you had a grin on his face as he said in an almost relaxed nature, replying through his mouthful of cake that he had bought on the way, “Exactly!”

“What are they planning on doing about it then?”

“Dunno,” he responds simply, more concerned with licking the frosting off his fingers.

…

“Weren’t you in the meeting?!”

“Yeah,” he said, rolling his head off to the side to finally look at you, “said a bunch of nonsense, though.”

You felt like hitting him, “I’m sure curses becoming more dangerous is a bunch of nonsense.”

“Yeah, it was. But do you know what’s more interesting?”

There he goes, switching the topic.

“What?”

“The Mochi Mochi shop’s new cake,” He grinned, holding up the half-eaten cake with only the bottom part of the box present, the lid long gone.

It was lemon-flavored.

There was frosting stuck to the side of that grin of his, and you fought the urge to tiptoe and wipe it off. Just how sweet would it taste?

No! You were getting distracted. Too distracted! 

You should be focusing on the sudden bombshell of news that was suddenly dropped on you, and how there should be more urgency to such news, “This is serious Gojo!”

But when you expected his response you look up only to see the edges of his mouth in a downturn line as he grunted.

A headache was definitely coming up for you. 

“What?”

“My name.” 

His response was short. A clear meaning that something had bothered him. And of course, like the child he is– instead of communicating he will drag this out as long as possible.

“Your name?” You say in disbelief, having no clue as to what you had said to cause such a reaction from him, “What about your name?”

But you received no response as the manchild in front of you continued to pout.

You start to laugh, “Don’t tell me..-! Are you upset that your name isn’t the second coming of Jesus Christ or something?”

He only grunted again, and you could tell from under his blindfold he was scrunching up his face in a way that suggested he was bothered by something.

“Is the title as the strongest not enough?”

Silence.

“Oh come on…what is it?”

As the two of you walked on you continued to relay the past conversation again in your head.

What was it? Did you say something wrong? That couldn’t be it. Was it perhaps something happening around you weren’t aware of? Could it…

Ah. 

You knew why he was upset…you think– anyway. He couldn’t be upset over such a small thing…could he? Then again, he was a child stuffed inside an adult’s body.

Wasn’t he 28 this year?

You sigh, before stopping in your strides. You turn around and look up a him, a smile playing on your lips as he looked down at you curiously, his pout still in place.

You gesture for him to lean down, and so he complies, while also using one finger to lift his bandages halfway, revealing one of his blue eyes.

What happened next was something you don’t even know how it came to be. Your own daring had gotten too strong that night, or perhaps you had gotten too drunk off of Satoru’s presence.

Tiptoing to meet him in the middle, you bring your finger up to wipe the leftover frosting from his lips before bringing it to your mouth.

Sweet.

Too sweet.

You smiled up at him, “Aren’t you a spoiled child, Satoru?”

You look up at his eyes, expecting him to quip back. But you were met with wide eyes and complete silence.

Ah- had you gotten too comfortable? Did you go too far?

You watch as he slowly leaned away, tugging the blindfold back down to his eyes, before breaking out into a smug grin, “I-...I am quite a spoiled child.”

He stuttered.

Satoru Gojo never stutters.

He returned back to walking, waving a hand in the air, “And it does require a lot of attention.”

It was as if nothing happened, and that he was simply put off by it…is that you would have thought if you hadn’t spotted the back of his neck and the tip of his ears turning a bright shade of red.

You still stood there in place, only moving when he looked back at you after noticing you weren’t walking beside him anymore, “Don’t tell me I paralyzed you with my beauty?”

“In your dreams.”

You run to catch up with him.

Perhaps that night he did manage to successfully diverge you from the pressing topic he had no interest in discussing. But you also managed to make the Gojo Satoru flustered that night, so you wouldn’t take it as a complete loss.

Ever since that day, you notice that he had become a little clumsier with his eating, often getting it on different parts of his face.

He also visits that Mochi Mochi shop a lot more often after that…

That interaction gave you hope that perhaps…that just maybe…there was a chance. But that was all it was and ever will be.

A chance.

Tell me, in another life, would it have been something more ‘than a chance’?

But it seemed fate had other plans. 

Fate, you now think to yourself, what a curse it is.

Shortly after that things started going downhill. The vessel for Sukuna, the King of Curses in the form of a child named Yuji, appeared. And many things came crashing after that.

But most of you still made it out okay, and things were looking up. It was okay, you told yourself. Things were…okay. Because things had to be okay.

.

.

.

But it wasn’t.

October 31st.

One of the two dates you will never be able to forget.

The Shibuya Incident.

The Sealing of the Strongest Sorcerer alive.

The Sealing of Gojo Satoru.

You remember the empty panic you felt when you heard the news. It had made your mind blank, and it felt as if it was falling apart. It was almost the exact same feeling from that day, all those years ago. But you were older now, more mature. 

So…you didn’t cry. Nor did you act out on your panic, nor did you break down. Even if every single cell in your body wanted to just collapse on itself. 

No, you couldn’t. You had a duty to fulfill first, and your emotions came last.

And so you fought, and fought, you fought for your life and for the lives of others. For the lives of the citizens, of the students, and for your home.

He will be alright, you repeated in your mind.

It was constant, never-ending. It was a sort of comfort, and it felt like if you said it long enough it would be true.

It has to be true.

He will be alright because he said so. 

Because he said so to you.

He was Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive. He was Gojo Satoru, your arrogant classmate. He was Satoru, your…

“Be careful,” You say after him, mere moments before he entered the dark veil. He wore his blindfold and his Jujustu Tech uniform, all prepared for what was to come, and yet his expression showed no sign of worry.

And you almost believed it.

Almost.

He turned around to look at you. It was one of these moments that you wished you could’ve seen his clear sky-like eyes so that you could’ve seen what he was hiding behind his mask of arrogance.

A way to a person’s soul was through their eyes, no matter how high their wall was or how far the line was drawn. But the person in front of you had closed that off too.

You sometimes wondered if you could see those eyes…would they have helped you understand Gojo Satoru a little better?

“Are you concerned?” He grinned, “Worried about me?”

“Yeah, and what about it?”

He brings a hand over his heart, “I’m honored.”

You take a step forward.

You wondered if you could reach him.

“Listen, I have a bad feeling.”

“Don’t sweat. I’m the strongest, remember? I’ll be fine,” He said, waving you off.

That damn line. 

That damn line.

“I know. Trust me, I know that…”

More than anyone else, perhaps.

You continue, “But just- just in case-”

Just in case something goes wrong.

“Remind me after to take you cake shopping, isn’t your birthday soon? Don’t worry,” He flashed a peace sign, “We’ll celebrate it,” Was all he said before he disappeared into the curtain with a small wave.

You wished he was there to celebrate all your birthdays to come.

It was only after you arrived back in your cold and empty apartment that you collapsed by the door that you had just closed.

You couldn’t stand up any longer, and even walking from your car to the elevator had your legs shaking.

But you didn’t cry. You couldn’t cry. Because crying would have meant it was over. Crying would have meant you were grieving. You couldn’t grieve, not now. For now, you must remain strong. For your students, for friends, for your Satoru, and for you. 

So no, you were not going to cry. You had no one to grieve over.

It was not over. Not yet. Not now.

And so you sat there, collapsed by your apartment door for the rest of the night, unmoving. You felt as if you’d lost a bit of yourself. As if someone had come in and torn it away, tossing it into the deepest depths of the sea.

Your eyes were a bit empty, but still alive, nonetheless. 

That night you did not shed a single tear.

It was to your immense relief when you heard the news that Satoru was alive. He was alive, breathing, and unsealed.

You wanted to run to him, to give him a hug, to hold him tight, just for your heart to confirm that he was okay.

He was okay.

You wanted to hear him laugh, to see his stupid grin, and to hear all the weird things he had to say. Everything and anything that told you that he was fine.

But the events that followed did not allow you to see much of Gojo Satoru. He was busy and was away preparing.

Preparing for what could have possibly be his biggest battle yet. You had other words to title the battle, but you didn’t want to say it. You couldn’t say it.

Because it would have made it all the more painful.

You had many memories of Gojo Satoru, many treasured ones that you kept close to your heart, locked away and hidden from sight. Some of the sweetness of youthful ignorance, some were more of a competition to see who could come up with the more creative insult, and some were of the times you managed to steal his love, if only for a few moments.

Could you even call it that?

But this one will forever be the most painful.

A night before December 24th, you, who were walking around the Jujustu Campus to delay the sun from rising, just so happened to pass by the Tori Gate, and to your luck, also see him.

It was almost as if fate decided to play one last cruel joke.

You saw him standing there surrounded by the many stone lanterns that remained intact there after all these years. He stood there silently and unmoving, staring somewhere off into the distance as if he was waiting for you.

He was. But he’ll never tell you. He never managed to tell you many things.

He didn’t wear his blindfold. His hair was down with remnants of water. He must’ve taken a shower not too long ago. He wore a T-shirt with sweatpants, somehow unbothered from the cold of winter’s night.

You silently walk up to him, standing there for a while. You knew he knew you were here. Just as how you always knew when he was there.

The two of you didn’t say anything.

You took a sharp inhale, and then a deep exhale before you raised your head, bringing it to look at him. To your surprise, he was already looking at you.

You stare into his eyes which still somehow managed to bring heaven to you. Looking at those eyes reminded you of many memories, of the past, present, and now…

They provided a sense of comfort…of familiarity in this ever-changing world, because even if the whole city was destroyed one day, it seemed as if those eyes would still be there, to hold you stable.

“Hey,” he softly breathed out.

“Hi.”

“It’s pretty cold out,” he says as a gust of wind passes by, making you shiver slightly.

Ah. So he does know what being cold is.

You take another glance at his outfit, “Says you.”

You could hear a faint smile in the way he sighed.

“Come to wish me luck, hm?” He asks, his voice light and calm.

You raise your eyebrows, “Do you even need it?”

“Of course,” he answers back almost instantaneously.

“I suppose I’ll make an exception today then,” you decide as you tilt back and forth on the heels of your foot.

You offer your best smile.

“Good luck then, Satoru. May the heavens be in your…favor”

Yet you couldn’t help your voice from breaking near the end. You’re sure he heard it as well.

This was goodbye, wasn’t it?

Saying goodbye was hard. It was never your specialty, and even with how many goodbyes you’ve said you could never get used to it.

Yet you were certain this was the hardest goodbye you’ve had to say yet.

He offered a small grin, “Why are you crying?”

You could feel something wet fall down your cheek and onto your shirt, but you didn’t look down and check. It felt as if the moment you looked away from those eyes it would be gone all too soon.

His eyes softened, bringing his hand to cup the side of your cheek so carefully as if you might break any moment now.

You wanted to respond with a quip, insult his hair, or even his attitude, and yet you could only bite your lips to prevent the sobs from breaking through.

This couldn’t be goodbye. It simply can’t be.

And so, you could only softly shake your head as your vision started to blur from your tears.

“Hey, don’t cry,” He laughed quietly, wiping your tears with his thumb, still cupping your face.

“I’m not,” you say, your voice shaky and barely audible.

But he heard you. He always did.

“Sure you aren’t.”

You look down, bringing your arm to wipe the tears from your eyes.

You can’t cry. Not now.

But you couldn’t stop. It was as if apart of you knew that this might be the last time you were going to see him, to feel his warmth against yours, to hear his voice, to–

“Look at me,” he requested gently, using his thumb to draw small circles on the side of your cheek.

And so you do, you look back at him, taking in his white soft hair that almost reminded you of the first snow, the purest of snow. You take in his scent, the smell of vanilla. 

You force yourself to etch his voice into your memories so that you will never forget.

“I’m the strongest. I’ll win.”

You wanted to believe him, oh how dearly you wanted to. But he probably even knew better than you did.

Satoru sighs when he still sees your hesitating face, his face lost in thought before bringing up his pinky to you.

And suddenly, you were sixteen again, and not a day older than when you had first walked under this gate. You and him, standing underneath the Torii Gate in the presence of the bluest spring as petals danced around the two of you.

“Let’s make a promise then,” he whispers with a cheeky smile.

You eye him suspiciously through your tears as you force your voice to be stable, “What kind of promise?”

“I’ll win, that’s my promise,” he says.

A promise to you.

“You promise?” You couldn’t help but ask again, like a child seeking comfort.

He nods affirmatively, “I promise.”

You bring your pinky up to his, entwining in a desperate kind of promise.

He smiles down softly at you as the two of you shake on it.

You then take a step closer, wrapping your arms around his waist.

And he let you.

You could feel his warmth. He didn’t have his infinity on.

He never did when it came to you.

He chuckled warmly, “If my memory serves me correctly…” he paused, “A while ago, someone had called the motion childish?”

“Shut up,” you mumble through into his shirt.

You felt his hands wrap around yours, pulling you closer to him.

This was possibly the closest you’ve ever been to Gojo Satoru.

“Don’t go,” You say quietly, “Don’t go.”

 “Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not!” You protest.

And all of a sudden you were the child now, all your walls were broken and damaged as you lay yourself bare.

“Not you…not you too,” you beg softly, as if hoping that your words could change his will.

You know it can’t.

“Didn’t we just promise?” He says, “We’ll see eachother again. I’m sure of it.”

And for a second, you believed him.

Gojo Satoru, you are a cruel man, did you know?

Gojo Satoru, what were you supposed to do now with your promise? Tell me, you begged. Tell me, what am I supposed to do now that all there was left was that promise of yours?

Where are you to come and comfort me when I’m no longer able to stand by myself? Where are you to come and dry my tears again?

What were you supposed to do when all there left were memories locked behind your heart? What were you supposed to do now when all the words he’s ever said will forever be played on repeat.

Gojo Satoru was a lot of things. Sometimes he was arrogant, annoying, and rude. But he was also kind, caring, and lonely. He was a child at heart, someone who dreamed, someone who had high ambitions, someone who took care of his students, and someone who had a pretty smile.

He was your friend, your coworker, your classmate, he was someone you confided with, someone that made you feel like home, someone that made you laugh, someone who was close to you, he was always and had only ever been Satoru to you.

You’ve always known there was a before Gojo Satoru, then there was during Gojo Satoru…you just never thought that one day there would be an after Gojo Satoru.

[anlian-aishang]

For the practice drabble thingie, Sweat/Scent kink? 👁️ 👁️

I just. k n o w. I have this headcanon that Levi always uses baby/scented powder to avoid sweating so much on expeditions/missions, but maybe one day he just runs out of it or rushes out of his room, so Levi gets flustered or self-conscious for the rest of the day or smth, idk I don’t think he would smell **that much**, but… still, he smells pretty masculine, yknow?👁️👁️

Tags: levi x reader [mutual pining], sfw [but fetish-based material], sweat & scent stuff, canonverse, gn!reader Word count: 2700 A/N: Holy hell, thank you, this is exactly what I wanted. nsfw sequel is in the works <3

It was his fucking day off. 

Levi was the most cautious when it came to anticipation. Sights no one should have to see had scarred him to the point of learning: if you never got your hopes up, nothing could let you down. That thought rained on most of his parades, but he supposed there was little letdown to be had when it came to the likewise little things. On returns from expeditions, he allowed himself to look forward to the removal of his heavy gear and tight belts. When the smell of fresh-baked bread wafted through the barracks, he let his tongue salivate and his stomach sing. Today would have been his first day off in - he couldn’t even remember - god knows how long. Last night, his stagnant stoicism seemed to float away, head in clouded daydream of how to make this day perfect.

But some days weren’t meant to be perfect.

Instead of birds chirping and the first rays of sunlight that Levi anticipated, it was a series of harsh knocks at the hour of indigo sky that woke him up. Levi startled out of sleep, snapping up with a breathless gasp.  

In hindsight, maybe he should’ve said nothing, maybe then they would’ve left him alone. However, being woken suddenly, though a common occurrence, almost always meant disaster in the Scouts. His voice cracked a barely audible “W’What?” No response. Levi coughed and cleared his throat, the return of his scathing tone, “What?”

The knob swiveled. His door creaked. In the shadows of dawn stood a domineering, a commanding, six-foot figure. The leisurely pace with which he entered the room conveyed that there was no life-or-death emergency, and thus no good reason, for having barged in here on his day off. Levi rolled his eyes and scowled, “I didn’t say ‘come in.’”

Erwin ignored his remark and instead cut to the chase. “Supply transports were raided in Trost.”

His mind already set in vacation mode, it was remarkable how quickly his knowledge of the restock had left him, “What?”

“Tug-of-war with the Garrisons and MPs, scouring over the leftover scraps of the materials that were supposed to be.”

“The hell do the MPs need anything for?”

“I’m headed to the capital to find out.”

Too tired to think - let alone attempt - to disguise his confusion. Levi’s brows arced, lips parted as he tried to piece together what the hell this had to do with him. When it dawned, his trademark pout revived. 

“...No.”

“So you’ll take my stand, running morning drills in -” Erwin checked his pocket watch - “twenty minutes.”

“I’m off today.” Levi refuted. “Get Miche or Hange to do it.”

“They’re coming with me.” Erwin’s eyes were dead set, nearly offended, don’t you know I’ve thought of this already? “Unless, of course, you want to make the trip.”

To yak with the higher-ups? He would sooner crawl through mud.

Though he was given a choice, he took pity at his situation: “Bullshit…” Levi cursed beneath his breath, his version of whining.

Impatient, Erwin tapped his foot, “Are you going to get up or would you like to sit here and talk about our feelings?” The commander’s voice was starkly monotone, despite the sarcasm dripping in his statement.

Levi could play that card, too. “Are you going to leave or are you just here to watch my bare ass roll out of bed?”

Right. Erwin turned on his heel, door slammed in his wake. 

His impulse was to throw his head back on his pillow and an arm over his face, but twenty minutes - he didn’t even have the time for that. Levi bunched his sheets in his hands, so angry that his fists trembled, and swiveled his legs over the edge of his bed. A pang of nausea and a sharp headache, his body was pissed at him for the violent disruption of his sleep cycle. Levi held his forehead in hand and shook, blame eyebrows, not me. 

Levi’s limbs felt heavy, like he had just come indoors from a rainstorm. Clouds of colorful swears and harsh grunts propelled him through his morning routine. A three-minute shower, trimming his bangs, toothpaste and mouthwash followed by tea. One of many identical uniforms was laid out on his dresser, but before that…

From head to toe - undercut nape, under the arms, the shelf of his pecs, between his thighs, and finally his feet - Levi always applied a handful of drying agent. At this time of year, headquarters could seriously reek, and Levi refused to contribute to that filth. Pressing his lips together and stifling a yawn, he turned the container upside down. Lips parted, though, when nothing fell out. 

Shake. Shake shake.

A blockage, a clump, maybe? But there was no sound. The slightest of twitches in his fingers as Levi delicately, anxiously, twisted off the cap and peered inside. 

That’s right. He had made a mental note yesterday, that part of his day off would be dedicated to visiting the market, buying tea leaves, some new briefs, and his astringent powder - all items he was too mortified to order through the Corps. Given the thieving that had just happened, it was not like those supplies would’ve arrived anyway, but now, he would not have the freedom to go out and get them. 

With the jar completely open, he considered a few shakes in vain, but the bottle was so empty that he could see the reflection of his dark-circled eyes in the bottom of it. Levi allowed himself a heavy, exasperated sigh as he set the empty vessel back on his bathroom countertop just to loudly smack it into the trash can. Fucking shit. 

At least he had showered, but peering out the window and onto the training grounds, he could already see waves of heat radiating off the pavement. Come noon, it would be far worse. Clock ticking, for now, his only solution was to cut down on layers. It was then that he realized how little leniency the uniform lent. Gritting his teeth, Levi reluctantly left his top drawer shut, forgoing his undershirt and underwear. Walking past his mirror, his reflection caught his own eyes: his ivory skin barely yet noticeably peeking through the buttons of his grey shirt. Goddammit, he ripped the brown, canvas coat off its hanger and crossed it tight across his chest. To the harmony of his soles on wooden floor, his inner voice melodized: Could an outfit be both breathable and modest?

Levi could not bring himself to abandon his cravat, so instead of tying it beneath his collar, he let it sling out his back pocket, at the ready to grasp for when he needed to wipe his sweat away. That moment was inevitable, but he preferred not to think about it. He ran his fingers through his hair, base of his hand lingered on his widow’s peak, grinding pressure away like a mortar and pestle. Whatever, he tried to assure himself, as long as no one was around… 

At first, he thought he might manage. If they got close enough, they would surely notice the glimmer shining upon his skin. However, by terse orders and points of his fingers, he had maintained a perpetual distance from the hoard of trainees. He was more of a hands-on kind of teacher, opting to join them as they ran laps or learned to grapple through trees. Today, though, he was standing in the shade several yards from the action. If anyone gave him shit for lazying aside, he had an excuse in that he wasn’t even supposed to be on-call today anyways. However, perhaps because he looked particularly irritable and scary, no one dared question his bystanding.

Then came you.

“Levi?”

It was the first time you had ever seen startle on the captain. A simultaneous, steep flinch in each of his shoulders. Hairs stood on end, he whipped his gaze around, “What? What’re you doing here?”

The sight of panic on someone so fearless, it caused you to fret by proxy. “I - I uh…” You had never second-guessed him before, you had never had to. “I’m covering for -”

“Erwin?” 

You knit your hands behind your back, a sheepish grin, “He said you’d need help. You know, given the heat…”

Levi crossed his arms and bit the inside of his cheek. How shitty could that oaf be? The truth was that this heat was getting to everyone, yet in his fluster, Levi was sure that not only Erwin knew about his secret susceptibility, but that he had spilled it to the last person Levi wanted to know. No words seemed adequate for response, so instead, he kicked his foot against the barrack wall, leaned back, and deferred to silence.  

Something was off, your eyes darted in search for it. His cheeks had been tainted a light red. Luckily, you chalked it up to the temperature, though Levi knew that was not the sole factor. His hair was slicker than its usual light-and-airy allure, you figured he had just gotten out of the shower. That was true, but this damp was sweat, not soap. Your gaze started to descend down his body, and on the way, you noticed it: no cravat. 

A dog without a collar. A missing puzzle piece. Mildly irksome yet disproportionately intriguing. It was like he had read your mind, the mocking timing with which he reached back into his pocket and lifted the cloth to his forehead, sighing and swiping. After a couple wringing flicks of his wrist, he folded it and shoved it inside the lining of his tan jacket. His left hand tucked it away, hidden, while his right hand lifted the coat away from his chest, granting him the space to do so. Again, his own state snagged his attention - the dark, drenched patch of fabric at his underarm jumped out like a bug on a wall. Fiercely, he snatched his jacket shut again, praying to whatever was out there that you had not seen. 

And though you had not seen the soak of his shirt, his odd behavior was garnering more and more of your attention. Cruelly, that made him sweat even more: not only the sun’s rays, but the blaze of your stare burning onto his skin. He cursed the thickness of his leather boots, the ODM gear that strapped his clothing tight to his skin, the turn of events that had brought you to this moment, his stupid genetics, and his even stupider feelings for you. Thoughts spiraling, humidity could mess with him in ways that titans could not.

If you thought hard about it, you may have realized that his humidity induced the same haze in you. Bangs glued to his forehead. Chest rose high and fell deep - combined with his light panting - made your brain boggle. Now and then, a clear bead of sweat would fall from his temple, down his jawline and neck, before disappearing down his collar - where you noticed that his top button was uncharacteristically undone. 

The loud pop! as he uncorked his canteen broke both of your thirsts. Head tilted far back, Adam’s apple deliciously bobbed as he gulped down his water. Lips absentmindedly fallen, your eyes drank as he did. 

Levi recognized, pretending that he hadn’t noticed your stare had thus far failed to shake it. He scoffed internally: someone could use some self-awareness, he was literally dripping with it. With a straight-on side-eye, he maintained eye contact as he gradually lowered the canteen from his lips, only to thrash it and splash it upwards into his own face. Still, you gaped like an idiot. Finally, Levi decided: if you were going to be this indulgent, he would be, too. Maybe then, you’d realize. Levi thumbed a leaking drop from the corner of his mouth. After briefly sucking the digit dry, his tongue snuck between his lips to slowly lick them clean. 

Stone-cold steel eyes and his soft pink tongue - that was what it took to break your concentration. Immediately, you snapped your gaze down to your toes and silently mouthed sorry. 

Despite the heat, shivers somehow managed to seize his figure. With your gaze averted, you thankfully missed them. However, when you no longer had your sight to rely on, other senses instinctively took over. Particularly, scent: aged sandalwood, burnt charcoal, bitter tea. On the training grounds, these smells did not come naturally. And if it were anyone else, you may have cringed at the combination of scents, but upon realization of the one and only source of this musk, you felt your middle warm with inexplicable satisfaction. 

Meanwhile, he was squirming: fuck, how badly he wanted to hit the showers. If Erwin had left this assignment to him, he had every right to leave it to the next person. The thing was, that next person was you, the blinking, doe-eyed, fresh promotion who hardly knew their blades from their gas. If you were anyone else, he could see himself saying: take this cash, head to the square and stop at this stand, buy the tallest bottle they have and bring it back to me. Say a word, you’re dead. 

But you were the entire reason he strove to keep this secret under wraps. To give you such orders would essentially be a confession, erasing the whole point. Between a rock and a hard place, Levi stood frozen in fever. 

The air was thick with moisture and silence. With each breath, the memory of that canteen escapade and his intensifying aura seemed to suffocate you. Internally, he was simmering over how to shoo you away from his disgusting sorry state. On the other hand, you were parsing over how to excuse yourself without being rude. 

The 10:00 bell rang, you used it to craft a feigned excuse, “If you’ve got things under control -”

“I do.” In some ways, he did. In others, absolutely not. 

“- I’m supposed to help mess out with lunch.”

Levi knit his brows, seemed unlikely, but he would not object. With a slight flick of his head, his gesture released you from post and encouraged you inside.

At the door frame and with his back turned, you could not help but take one last look. At his last end and assuming you had departed already, he finally shouldered that Scouts jacket off, revealing his light-grey button up having turned dark with his sweat. His fist clutched his collar and fanned ferociously, allowing his skin to breathe. Inaudible to the other, you both simultaneously reprieved, “Fuck me…”

At 11 on the dot, Levi and the platoon of morning athletes were in the cafeteria line. So what if it meant they called it quits prematurely? Inside, no one was complaining. Levi was relieved that he did not find you there, hopeful that you were in your room avoiding heat stroke, and oddly satisfied to have correctly suspected your “cafeteria-duties” bluff earlier. 

Levi looked like he had been rained on then dunk-tanked. At least, that was how his squad put it, jeering and elbowing, “What happened to you out there?”

They didn’t want to know. He didn’t want them to know. Most of all, he would rather forget this day ever happened. He took his steel tray and made for his room to eat in private - but more importantly, to shower again.  

The venture back to his quarters seemed to drag - maybe it was because the dampness of his clothes had weighed him down, or maybe it was because the empty, lone quiet of the halls allowed his consciousness to echo loud and clear: humiliating, huh? 

He could not deny that it was fucking humiliating, but for as scathing as the memory of that embarrassment was, the recollection of your rose-colored stare was just as impactful. All along, he had feared that if you witnessed his weakness to heat - more so the sweat and stench that came with it, it would have sent you running the other direction. Self-doubt suggested: they did end up running, though. That mess-hall excuse, them being them, they were probably trying not to offend you as they took cover from your reek. Self-confidence objected, but remember the way they looked at you? Don’t play dumb. You know that look anywhere. They like you - and hell - maybe they liked it.

On his doormat, a tall white bottle and a handwritten note confirmed the latter.

Seemed like you were missing something… …not that I think you need it. - (Y/N)

// masterlist //

[the-evil-lovable-simp]

Tadc Caine x werewolf reader

(Also reader the reader’s gender will not be mentioned)

(Also this is probably bad)

(btw the wolf form isn't just a wolf, it's a humanoid wolf)

(When people think of wolves communicating, they most likely think of howling. But wolves have an extensive repertoire of sounds. Whines and whimpers indicate friendly interaction but can also express frustration or anxiety. Growls and snarls are threatening or defensive.)

You sat on your bed thinking about your situation, excluding the whole being trapped here thing, you've had five outbursts already, all for different reasons. Two of them were just normal transitions, one of them was because Jax tripped you over, another was because he locked you in a room, and another was because Kinger scared you when he screamed. You've almost killed Jax six times already, if you don't sort this out soon you might actually hurt someone. You're also really glad that Caine hasn't caught on yet, you'd think he would of by now since he brags about having eyeballs everywhere, watching everyone's every move. If he did find out he'd probably put you in the cellar with all the abstracted beings. Thinking about that made you a bit tense, you could feel your wolf side awakening and trying to get out. You try to keep it in but you fail, and your tail rips a hole in your pants ruining yet another pair.

"$#!%" You got censored and grabbed your tail, you tried to stroke it to calm down, and it was working until you heard knocking at your door, this very much startled you because you didn't hear anyone walk up to your door.

"(y/n), I heard profanity," you hear a voice exclaim behind the door, you knew exactly who it was. Caine.

"£$%^ &*%$ £$?<> &*^%," you cursed again and got censored again, stumbling around the room, stubbing your toe in the process, swearing some more and crashing into the wall, thus making your wolf ears pop out.

"I was just going to tell you not to swear, but now I feel like I should check up on you," he says turning the knob. This alerted you, your wolf ears twitching. The door was slightly opening until you crashed into it slamming it shut again, with your now wolf arms. This made Caine jump and his teeth clenched together and his eyes flew out the back of his head. He soon regained his posture.

"NoOOoooOOoo! ThAt's fINe!" you try to reassure, your voice changing four times in that sentence.

You really didn't want him to find out about this, it would be so embarrassing, notably since you kinda like him, and even worse, him getting rid of you...You started spiralling, this made you transform more, clawed paws busting out of your shoes and your clothes ripping a bit.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" you howled in pain, transforming was painful sometimes, especially if you were stressed. Caine got a bit worried thinking you were abstracting. He grabbed the handle and tried to open the door again.

"Are you sure you're quite alright my dear?" he asked trying to push against you.

"Yes! Quite sure," you snapped back trying to get him to leave, sadly it didn't work.

"GRRRRRRrrrrrrggggrrrrrggrgr," you started to growl getting a bit agitated, you were now fully wolf.

"Alright, I didn't want to have to do this," he declared, you saw him start to use magic on the door, so you ran and hid under a cover on your bed.

"But you've given me no choice," he said before the door exploded. He floats in and the door remakes itself behind him. Caine looked around expecting to see a trashed room, with you abstracted in the middle of it, but that's not what he found, what he found instead was a normal room with you huddling under a cover on the bed.

"Oh look, you've seen I'm okay and now you can leave," you said almost losing it.

"Are you suuurre you're alright (y/n), I've heard of humans frequently lying about their feelings-" you cut him off,

"yeah, I'm...I'm fine," you said shifting slightly as you did, your tail slipped out the back of the cover. Caine noticed this and floated over to it, to inspect. He lightly touched it, you could still feel it. You yelped and snatched it back in. Caines eyes bulged as he saw the big paw quickly come and go.

"You can go now," you said desperately. He flouted round to the front,

"(y/n), what's going on here?" he asked still a bit worried, but thankful you didn't abstract. You gripped the cover.

"Nothing's going on," Caine grabbed the cover,

"Let me see," he said, worry mixed with curiosity.

"Please don't," you mumbled before he pulled up the cover. All you had on was ripped shorts, everything else was fur. You covered your eyes, ears lowering.

"Don't look at me," you curled up, as your tail wrapped around your legs.

Caine's bottom jaw dropped (like in the pilot at the start). You peaked because the silence was killing you, you saw his surprised expression. Caine gasped as he got a glance at your eye, they were a beautiful gold colour.

You then scooted to the top of the bed trying to get away and hide more.

"W-what is this?" he questioned, you looked up at him. Now both your golden eyes staring into his heterochromia blue and green eyes.

He gulped he's never been this nervous before, it felt strange to him, it felt like you were staring into his soul.

"It's monstrous is what it is!" you spat with self-hatred, this led to him being able to see your teeth, they were very sharp unlike his.

"It's..." he started

"Horrible, dreadful, horrifying? you suggested

"It's..." he tried to think of what he wanted to say.

"Upsetting, bothersome, alarming?" you listed some more things.

"Gorgeous," he added, sounding less loud than usual. This took you off guard, you felt heat rise to your face, your pupils dilated.

You hugged your knees, tears in your eyes, *sniff*

"Y-you're just saying that," you said meekly.

"I assure you I'm not my.....dear, Oh gosh, are you crying?" he was startled.

"NO No no, NO I'm not!" your voice started to change again, as you rubbed your eyes with your fluffy arm.

"Golly, I'm not the best with human emotions," he said not knowing what to do. He floated over to the bed and patted your head, this felt nice.

"Your fur is so soft" he said in a gentle tone, unlike the usual booming voice he uses. It shocked him when he saw your tail start wagging. You started to make whining noises, and with one fast action, you grasped your paws on your snout. This made you really embarrassed. Caine decided not to mention it for your sake and tried to change the subject.

"Well, I don't think you're, horrible, dreadful, horrifying, upsetting, bothersome, or alarming," he said in quick succession, a bit too quick that you almost didn't hear him. You looked up at him, into his eyes making him nervous again.

"I think, you're quite....pretty," he said looking everywhere but you.

"Really?" you asked hoping he was telling the truth.

"Why yes, you look lovely," he said now looking at you.

He fully floated down to the bed, landing on it. Your tail now in front of him, he looked at it.

"May I," he politely asked being cautious considering what happened last time. You nodded without saying anything. He delicately stroked down your tail, it shined and glimmered.

"Your fur is so pretty," he said looking up at you, shocked seeing you looking down and, ears lowered.

You were glad he couldn't see you blushing through the fluff.

"I thought you were gonna...get rid of me.

He was shocked that you thought that, especially because of this.

Before he could answer, you started crying again, and quickly grabbed him, making him yelp, and shoved him into your chest. You were bigger than him when you were in your human-ish form and now that you were in your wolf form that was a bit bigger you were definitely bigger than him. You crossed your legs and he was sitting there in between them looking up at you. Your tail wrapped around your legs, tightening the space in between them. Caine was in a sea of fur.

"You know how you look?" you said no longer crying and getting a bit more confident.

Caine shook his head eyes wide looking up at your golden orbs. You smiled showing your 42 sharp teeth.

"Adorable"

———————

That’s it, I hope you liked it ✨

[mostlyinthemorning]

Okay tumblr, do you want to hear the story of the time I had a live badger under the front seat of my car?

A few of you have heard this story before, but I feel like you might be okay hearing it again.

So.

Mumblety years ago, my first real job after university was working at a wildlife rescue centre. Basically, people would find injured and orphaned wild animals and they’d call us up and we’d nurse them back to health or raise them until they were grown enough to go back to the wild. Most of the time the patients were birds (robins, so many robins) and small mammals, like squirrels, but occasionally we got a more unusual animal.

One day, this baby badger comes in, he's really small, probably about 6 weeks old. 

Super cute, kind of like this:

x

At six weeks old he’s still nursing so we bottle fed him for a few weeks and then eventually, when he started eating solid food like mice, we put him out into an outdoor enclosure. By the end of the summer, he's catching and eating his own food and he's growls super ferociously whenever anyone comes up to the cage.

Ah-ha, we think, we have rehabbed him successfully. He's ready to be released!

The wildlife center isn’t really located in badger habitat, but I was planning to travel to visit my parents, about four hours south, and they lived in the country and had lots of gophers for him to eat. Thus, a plan was born. I would visit my parents, I would take the badger with me, he would be happily released into the wild, and my friend and I would go camping, just to round out the weekend. 

So, my friend (who also works at the wildlife centre) and I happily load our things and our badger into the back of my very small Toyota Tercel. (You see where this is going, I hope.)

My car was like this, but blue.

X

You might notice that this is not a very large car. And you’d be right. 

Badger safely stowed in the back seat, we head south. I think it’s important to mention that the badger is in a plywood crate with a sliding wood door that goes up and down as this will be relevant later on.

Now, it’s a blazingly hot day, probably 35C/95F and my little car doesn't have air conditioning. It is hot. Even with the windows down. And the badger is annoyed. We can tell he’s annoyed by the loud and angry growls coming from the back seat. 

Our plan is to stop about 1.5 hours into the trip to visit a bank and a grocery store. The badger doesn’t care about this plan. He’s still very annoyed.

We pull up to the bank, parking in the shade so the badger won't be toasty in the sun, and we go inside. This is before the days of paying with everything with debit cards so we needed cash. We come back out pretty quickly and open the door of the car and immediately there's a problem. The badger is still growling, but now the growls are coming from under the front seat of my car.

We slam the door closed and try to decide what to do. Because we’re going camping, we aren't really prepared for anything other than opening up the door of the crate and watching the badger run away. We don't have any gloves, or a towel, or even so much as a business card saying that we are allowed to have a live badger in our car. As we're standing there, trying to figure out what to do about our predicament, people keep coming up to us to ask if we've locked our keys in the car. (If only!)

I crack open the door of the car a few times, and the badger growls at me every time. Clearly, he lives under the front seat of the car now. We have to do something. It’s still hot, and now we’re behind schedule and we still have 2.5 hours left to drive. 

A guy in a big oilfield truck pulls into the parking spot beside us. Figuring we don’t have a choice, we accost him as he gets out of his truck and ask if he has any gloves we can borrow. He admits that he does, but, of course, he wants to know why.

We explain.

He absolutely refuses to get involved but he agrees to lend us his gloves. Apparently he doesn’t have any reservations about watching two 20-something young women wrestle a live badger as long as he doesn’t have to do it himself. Gloves secured, we open the door of the car.

The growling gets louder.

It's still coming from under the seat.

Now, I don't know if you've ever tried to stick your hand under the front seat of a Toyota Tercel in order to retrieve a live badger. But there's not much room. 

The other thing you should probably know about badgers is that the scruff of their neck is extremely loose so that they can twist around if a predator grabs them. 

All of this is to say that wrestling a badger out from under the seat of your car is vaguely similar to trying to fish an angry, squirmy cat out from underneath your bed, if the cat had 2 inch claws and the ability to completely rotate in its own skin. In a public parking lot. While trying not to attract a crowd of onlookers. 

Finally, after much swearing, we manage to shove the badger out from under the seat, I grab it and slam it back into its crate. 

Whew, we think. At least we fixed that problem. But everything is okay now. Back to the plan!

It takes about five seconds for us to discover that the badger released himself by sticking his claws under the sliding door and lifting it up.

At this point, you probably won’t be surprised to learn that long with our lack of gloves, we also don't have any tools that we might use to fix the door of the crate. But somehow we manage to wedge the door of the crate shut. 

Whew, we think. At least we fixed that problem. But everything is okay now. Back to the plan!

You might be sensing a theme, and you’d be right. With the hindsight of some years since then, we probably should have turned around. Oh, to be 23 again.

It's still 35 degrees.

The badger is still angry.

We still have 2.5 hours worth of driving ahead of us.

We head out on the highway and the trip gains the soundtrack that I can still hear to this day.

Growl, growl, scratch, scratch.

Growl, growl, scratch, scratch.

Growl, growl, scratch, scratch.

We turn up the music. The badger growls louder.

I’m already doing ten over the speed limit. I drive a bit faster. Did I mention that the car doesn’t have air conditioning?

Growl, growl, scratch, scratch.

Thunk. Scratch, scratch. Thunk.

Our gerry-rigged closure on the crate has failed and the badger is sticking his claws beneath the door and lifting up the door. It’s only going to be seconds before a hot angry badger is loose in the car. We’re fifteen minutes from my parents’ house. 

I pull onto the shoulder of the highway and my friend scrambles into the backseat. Putting all of her weight on the sliding door, she holds it down as the badger scratches furiously. I pull back onto the highway, now I’m going twenty over the limit. 

Fifteen long, hot, and exhausting minutes later, we arrive at my parents’ house. I swear the badger's growls can be heard in Ottawa. Gasping a hello to my mom and dad, we lug the heavy crate with the heavy badger out into the field, wanting to release it as quickly as possible.

The growling gets louder. The crate might be the heaviest thing I’ve carried in my life. Staggering through the field, we finally decide we're far enough away from the house. We lift the door of the crate. The badger dashes for freedom—which is to say that it runs ten feet away and turns to look at us. 

Whew, we think. At least we made it here. But everything is okay now. We did it!

Heaving a sigh of relief, we gather up the crate and turn to go back the way we came. 

The badger follows us.

We walk faster.

The badger chases after us, practically at our heels.

We jump across the creek.

The badger launches itself into the water, swimming after us. 

We stop. The badger comes and sits at our feet like the world’s shortest, widest dog. We look at it. It stares back at us. Maybe the badger just needs a moment to consider its life of freedom. We wait. The badger wanders away. We pick up the crate for a second time and try to walk away. The badger is having none of it. It gallops after us. I pick up the wet badger and tuck it under my arm. This is the happiest it's been all day. Clearly, we are not releasing this badger into the wild.

Now, friends, we have a dilemma. We’re four hours from home, it’s getting late, and whatever we decide to from this point forward is going to involve a slightly damp, half-grown badger made of growls.

Our plan, if you can call it that at this point, was to release the badger and then go camping in a nearby national park. This now seems like a bad idea. But we're four hours from home and we have to do something. 

So. 

We decide to take the badger camping. In a moment of prudence, we forgo the national park and choose a nearby provincial park instead. 

We drive to the park. The badger rides on my friend’s lap. There’s no growling.

We set up our campsite. Thankfully, the campground is nearly empty. While we’re setting up the tent, the badger explores the campsite, amusing himself by digging a few holes and making sure to keep us in sight. It was like having a very short, very growly dog who likes to dig.

I’m sure it won’t surprise you in the least if I say that it’s at this point that we realize we’ve forgotten the matches for the stove. 

The nearest town is twenty minutes away. The badger will have to go back in the crate for the journey. The badger is not a fan of this idea. But we get him back into the crate—something that’s a lot easier now that we know he’s not trying to eat us—and we head for town, accompanied by the now-familiar symphony of growling. 

Now, it's been a bit of a day. So I think I should be forgiven for accidentally going over the speed limit on the way out of the campsite. This is, of course, when I get pulled over. Remember, we don't have a single piece of official wildlife-related ID between us, not even so much as a business card. This was before cell phones so we can’t even phone the wildlife center to vouch for us. We're both convinced that this is it, that we're probably going to jail for wildlife smuggling. And the badger is never getting out of that crate. In the backseat, the badger is growling louder than ever. 

The officer comes up to the car window.

The badger growls.

We hold our breath.

The badger growls even louder. 

The officer proceeds to absolutely ream me out for going twenty over the limit. The badger growls at every word. The officer doesn't even acknowledge the badger. I apologize profusely. I promise to never ever do it again. The officer gives me a warning. The badger growls. I drive away very, very slowly.

The next day we drive home and I can't even remember the details of the trip, I think I've blocked it out, but I’m pretty sure we let the badger had free-run of the car. When we got back to the wildlife center, we learned that badgers don't leave their moms until they're a bit older. We put him back in his cage, and about four months later, he digs his way out. And every now and then for about a year after that, people would come to the wildlife centre and say that an overly-friendly badger had come up to them on our nature trail. 

And this is why I always make sure to carry gloves in my car.

THE END

[worflesbian]

RIGHT i've watched the first six episodes of enterprise (five if the two-part pilot only counts as one) and i have things to say. take all of them with a pinch of salt bc ive only just started it but i have a sneaking sense that it will continue in much the same fashion.

first of all the backswing from ds9 + voyager's first black captain and first female captain is TANGIBLE. to quote eleanour "girlboss" guthrie-blacksails so many goddamn (white) men here!!! too many goddamn (white) men here!!! not only are they white men, archer and trip specifically are Cowboys in the most "we clearly want to write a classic western" sense. if i closed my eyes and listened to a scene with just the two of them i wouldn't be able to distinguish it from firefly, a show where they purposefully put on cowboy voices because apparently space westerns were all the rage in 2001-2002.

t'pol is really the only woman i would call a main rather than supporting character and her role thus far seems to be emulating the nagging sitcom wife, in that she naysays everything, gets utterly disregarded, is proven right by the end of the episode, and then is immediately disregarded again next episode. i find the idea of vulcans intentionally curtailing human progress into space and humans rebelling against that really interesting, but i hate the way the casting and direction turns space travel into this gung-ho boys will be boys situation because even though t'pol is right, she's being Framed as a killjoy in such a gendered way.

back to the western thing - i watched a Lot of 50s' and 60s' westerns as a child and out of the five episodes of enterprise i've seen so far, three have used tropes or stock situations directly from westerns with the worst offender being s1e6 terra nova. i was fucking gobsmacked by that episode like it was BLATANT. the fact that most of their outdoor scenes are probably filmed in california which is where a lot of westerns are filmed by pure hollywood convenience probably doesn't help, but it's really evident in the writing as well. i remember reading that the original series wanted to take the western frontier into space and make a "wagon train to the stars" and it feels like enterprise decided to go all the way back to that concept and do it far, far less subtly.

of course the problem with this is that rather than engage with the politics of that genre and how they've influenced the formation of star trek (is the federation an imperialist entity? is starfleet a colonialist military? etc) it feels so far that enterprise is just having a great time playing uncritical cowboys and aliens, completely erasing indigenous people from the narrative of westward expansion or replacing them with the non-human which. fucking sucks!!

the fact that t'pol is constantly getting racially harassed and abused as the only vulcan aboard, the fact that hoshi is inexperienced with combat and space travel so its always the men doing the action scenes, the fact that travis is the youngest and least ranking officer on the bridge and the fact that enterprise was "rick berman's baby" are all adding up to a conscious agenda of putting white men at the forefront of trek again.

if i'm wrong about any of this i would love to hear from people who've watched further than me! i dont mind about spoilers i've already had loads

[villruu]

Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss murderer/stalker + Brian and Alex?

I loved this prompt so much ough (this is just over 2K,,, this was meant to be a drabble lmao). Ended up including Tim (bc how could I not???)

On AO3

Anyways, have the beginnings of the Worst Road Trip, Ever.

This is an alternative ending to Entry 67

⸻

Brian held the gun loosely, staring at the weapon, flicking the safety on, off, on, off, on, off.

It was just the two of them alone now, on the building. 

Tim was probably far away enough by now, Brian thought, he had been too dazed, too lost under the grip of that fucking thing to refuse. For the better, anyways, Tim was always loose and stunned in these moments, and while he always followed Brian’s lead, it was better to not let an unknown variable in a situation as delicate as this one.

He should be just arriving to his car, probably, if he hasn’t collapsed yet, Brian’s inner clock told him if it wasn’t broken beyond repair thus far. 

Maybe, Brian thought almost fondly, this time he would catch a ride with Tim back into town. Maybe this would be finally the time he allowed Tim to see his face during the day again.

Safety on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off.

Alex’s struggles had finally stopped, Brian noticed once he entered the room again.

The other man just laid on the floor, a drying track of blood down his nose, a blooming bruise on his cheek where Tim had punched him particularly hard.

He looked pathetic.

Good, he thought viciously, good.

If Brian could speak normally, if he could speak, he would viciously tear into Alex, dismiss and rip every little thought the bastard had, make him die in distress, knowing that everything he had worked for was all in vain, a fool’s errands, the crusade of a man who knew he was in the wrong and still tried to comfort himself with lies.

Safety on, off, on, off.

But he can’t. At least, Alex will die just like his other victims did, without a single word to excuse the crime, dying without even the grace of knowing.

He can’t help the grin under the mask and he levels the gun at Kralie’s face. His eyes are tired but frowning, both accepting and rejecting what is about to happen. Coward, he thinks bitterly.

Safety on, off.

The gun feels light in his hands, but Brian knows that it is heavy with all the blood it has spilled.

He draws the hammer back with his thumb, watching how Kralie’s pupils shrink at the sound. 

His hands are steady, the most steady they have been ever since this asshole decided to hit him with a metal bar. He wonders if Alex remembers this place, if he remembers that six years ago he found Brian wandering this dilapidated room dazed after the encounter from that thing, if he remembers how he pretended to comfort Brian, if he remembers holding the metal bar, if he remembers leaving his fucking body beneath a bush.

…He doubts it, but he likes to imagine the other remembers.

It makes this whole thing fit better. An irony, a metaphor, a final fuck you to Alex Kralie’s pretentious ass.

Brian moves slowly, to savor these final moments. Over six years of this, finally coming to an end. Finger resting on the trigger, watching how Kralie’s eyes follow each movement. Every hour spent seething, hating, living out in the wild, living as a ghost, forced to ignore every missed call from Tim, forced to ignore his mom’s unanswered texts, forced to live on scraps and hate.

All of that, to finally end in this. Holding the guy responsible for everything.

(Tim may be the origin but Alex Kralie is the truly one at fault. He can manage Tim once he gets this done with, but for now, he gives his everything in his hunt for Kralie. And it has finally paid off.)

It feels a bit weird that Tim is not here, watchful presence behind him ready to attack as he commands, loyal guard dog ready to bite whoever he is directed to. But it feels more real like this. 

Just him and Kralie, alone. 

Only one of them is walking out of this alive, and they both know it.

And as much as Kralie may be doing that thing’s bidding, Brian is the one who knows how to escape the Operator’s realm. He is the one who has spent six years giving parts of himself to escape the Ark, he is the one who knows how to escape that thing’s grasp. As much as Kralie may have unknowingly worshipped that creature, it will not save him once he is left in the Ark.

The camera he holds on his other hand. He isn’t sure what he will do with the tape, just yet, but he will figure something out.

Maybe upload a part of it for the channel, maybe leave it for Jay, maybe simply burn it. 

A way to make this real, perhaps. If it’s filmed, if it’s recorded, then it can’t be forgotten. It can’t be hidden.

(Like Sarah’s, like Seth’s, like his—)

Just as he finally aligns his sight, the gun pointing straight between Kralie’s eyes, is when all goes to hell.

First, the camera stops working properly, screen lagging behind and pixelated.

The humming in his bones grows louder, louder, louder. 

And then, the sensation of something watching.

Brian turns around, and he can see it, can see it slowly leaning out the doorway, still far away enough to run away, but close enough to make fear and surprise fill his body.

Safety on.

Put the gun away in his jeans, shut the camera off, prepare to run away.

Brian’s eyes land on Alex’s figure and he hesitates.

If he leaves, Alex Kralie will get away again.

If he leaves, who knows Alex Kralie is gonna hurt next?

It’d be so simple to just kill him now. Quickly pull the trigger and bolt away.

But he didn’t want the Operator to take the body. The lighter in his hoodie weighs heavily in his mind as he quickly tries to think of what to do.

It shifts closer.

If he leaves, Alex Kralie lives.

If he stays, he will die again.

(Brian can’t go to the ark again, not this soon. He doesn’t have enough to give, he doesn’t have enough, the ark takes and takes and takes and Brian is a husk, he can’t go, not again, not so soon. He needs time, he just needs more time)

Static grows louder.

Everything is normal, he reassures himself, despite how he can feel himself shaking, everything is fine.

It gets closer.

I worry about nothing, Brian tries, but he can feel the static, the blankness slowly creeping on him, cause nothing’s…

Static.

Nothing’s…on…

The shift of rubble. A tilt of it’s head. On the floor, Alex Kralie whimpers in fear.

Fuck this, Brian thinks, crouching down and with shaking hands pulling out the small knife he keeps on him.

Alex tries to rear back at the sight of it, but Brian focuses on quickly cutting the ties, mind going into overdrive as he tries to ignore how he can feel that thing getting closer, closer, cLOSER—

Quickly, before Alex can react, Brian whacks him as hard as he can on the head with the butt of the knife.

Ignoring Kralie’s pained yelp or the way he slumps, Brian grabs him and with a strength purely fueled by adrenaline, holts him up and starts running. He can hear the Operator grow louder, it’s displeasure easy to tell by the way reality almost seems to warp around him, but Brian has long grown used to this.

Without hesitation, Brian keeps running, as the environment shifts around him. 

Hospital, forest, hallway, his house, forest, hospital, forest.

As much as the Operator may try to keep him here, Brian’s sheer adrenaline is enough to keep him going. The longer it goes on, the less intense the shifts are, until he is left alone in the forest, a few miles away from the abandoned building. He’s in Rosswood, fortunately, so it’s easy to orient himself and keep running towards where he knows the park ends.

He can feel Kralie struggling weakly in his hold, but it is easy to keep him subdued, the other too weak from the hit, probably too dizzy to act. Brian would know, he was in that situation once.

As the woods start to thin out, Brian finally spots the parking lot. 

Blessedly, Tim is still there, standing dazedly by his door, mask in place, looking slightly confused about Kralie’s presence but waiting for his cue to know how to react.

Good. Things would be more complicated if the conscious Tim was awake.

Struggling for breath, Brian slams the rear door open and practically shoves Alex inside, quickly climbing in as well.

He gestures sharply for Tim to get in the front seat, and the other does.

Brian struggles to speak, trying to make his mouth say the word drive, but it is useless, still too agitated and filled by adrenaline to take the proper time to force himself to speak. After a few tense seconds, he throws his hands in the air and simply waves at Tim to drive.

The white mask tilts to the side confused, like a dog trying to figure out a new trick, but before Brian can try again, with a burst of static, the Operator appears at the edge of the forest, frighteningly close.

Tim startles, jumping, but thankfully quickly gets the idea, turning the car on and slamming onto the reverse, the tires screeching loudly as Tim absolutely floors the accelerator.

As Tim quickly starts driving away, Brian focuses back on Alex.

Kralie looks sweaty, with a vaguely nauseous look on his face, trying to move as if he were wading through molasses.

It is easy to manhandle him, pinning him to lay on his side, seatbelts easily serving as restraints as Brian tries his best to tie him up as strongly as possible. A few zip-ties still left in his hoodie pocket help him tie his hands together behind his back, quickly tying the feet together as well, as Brian realizes he could still kick.

He does make sure to tie him up while laying on his side. It’s very probable that he throws up from the injury, likely soon, and the last thing Brian wants is Kralie choke on his vomit. He’d rather kill the man himself than let some vomit do the job for him.

After making sure it’s as safe as it's gonna get, Brian climbs into the front passenger seat, dropping with a tired sigh.

Alex can’t see him from the back, so Brian takes off his mask with a sigh, passing a hand through his sweaty forehead. Tim tilts his head slightly towards him, still somehow keeping the eyes on the road, but clearly waiting for an order.

And Brian… Has absolutely no idea what to do now.

After what feels like an eternity, watching the trees blur together through the window, Brian shrugs.

“...House,” He manages to slur out, voice as loud as a whisper, hoarse and gritty. The word is almost incomprehensible.

Tim nods sharply, however, easily understanding him, and something like fondness swells up inside Brian.

Despite their differences (liar, liar, LIAR, FILTHY FUCKING LIAR, IT’S HIS FUCKING FAULT—) Brian can always trust on Tim to understand him, somehow, through the slurring of his voice and the codes in his works.

After regaining his breath, Brian pulls his mask on again and sighs.

Maybe it is time that Brian brings Tim (the real Tim, the awake one, the conscious one) back on board. It would be difficult to shake Jay off, if Brian manages to convince Tim to go fully off-grid with him for a bit, but it wouldn’t be that hard if they’re lucky.

Moving the rear back mirror, Brian looks at Alex.

Once they get far away from the Operator, they can take care of him… Hopefully. It shouldn’t take long to shake that thing off their tails.

…At least, that’s what he thinks until he sees the Operator appear under the nearest streetlight at the red stoplight.

With a startled noise, Brian whacks Tim’s side, the other startling as well once he notices the thing nearby, pressing down his foot on the accelerator and crossing the red light without a single care as to any possible other cars nearby.

Okay, Brian thought calmly and firmly ignoring his wild heartbeat, maybe Tim’s house is not a viable plan.

…

Fuck.

He just waves at Tim to continue driving, and drops his head on his hands. 

Okay, alright, he can adjust to this, no problem. Alright.

Brian grimaces under his mask, trying to ignore the Operator reflected on the rear back mirror.

He’s just currently trapped… In a moving car… With a nauseous Alex Kralie in the back… And a Tim Wright in the front seat who is very close to “waking up”... This is, this is fine.

He did always want to go on a road trip, Brian thinks a bit hysterically as he notices Tim starting to seize up and urging him to move to the side.

Quickly switching seats with Tim, Brian gets back onto the road and tries to ignore the anxiety creeping up on him.

This is gonna be just fine… He’ll… He’ll figure something out.

Surely.

Yeah.

[rhythmic-idealist]

Chase Trinaeste POV Shepherds of Haven fic? Yeah………….. Chase x MC fic? Yeah.......

And another friend’s OC is also mentioned in here? …..Yeah…………… dw about it..........

Listen though. L-listen:

---

You gotta learn to braid.

Thinking about it, your head is immediately gifted with images of him irritatedly brushing it out in the morning and chewing you out for bad technique. Better yet, he wears it to breakfast, thinks it’s good, and then chews you out only after Trouble makes some no-brained comment and he looks in a mirror for the first time. After all, you’ve got nimble fingers, makes sense to assume you were trustable.

Rock’s head is in your lap.

And his hair is going everywhere, and he’s always clearly taken his time with it (at your best guess he uses five different products at least), so that’s why you’re thinking about it. Don’t people with long hair sleep with braids, sometimes? Lavinet would probably teach you, and do you the favor of not announcing that you’re about to use your skills for evil.

He’s been like this since about five in the morning. You’re a light sleeper. As needs be, you rise either with the sunset or with the sun. Or elsewise, if you’ve got to— you have what some might call an uncanny sense for a well-timed catnap.

So you’re up again, working out the couple little kinks in your back from dozing upright like that. It’s another of the perks of the job: learn to sleep anywhere. You have a lot of little resume filler skills like that, just a tragic lack of resume to put it on. Idly, you wonder over the nonsensical notion of putting one together for the Order once your writing gets good enough to, and you’re kind of attached to the idea now. Blade wouldn’t read it, especially considering you’re already in, but there’s some small giddy joy you get out of the idea of putting it in his possession anyway. Maybe Trouble would read it. Maybe Shery would think it’s juicy enough that she can’t keep her hands off it, and then roll in the guilt about it for a few weeks after. ...No, you can’t do that to her. Funny as that is, she could read with permission. You might be cruel, but she’s a horrible choice of target.

Anyway— So you’ve been watching him be like this since about five in the morning, and thus have evidence of him being like this since about five in the morning. You remember falling asleep late last night, though. Waiting for him to drift first. It was probably one, two AM.

When six-thirty rolls around, you’ll have to wake him, you have a bright and early morning dose of espionage on the schedule today (it’s why the two of you are all the way out here, plus Lavinet and Ottilie graciously hosted in another wing) and you can’t have a grouchy Hero of Haven who hasn’t had a good hour or more awake to put his silver tongue back on.

Something something joke about that tongue’s many talents.

Head in lap is a surprise at all. It’s one of those things— Rock has done this thing to you where all your defenses are the ones that keep coming down first.

It feels a little like getting grifted. When you’ve caught onto a grift, though, and you’re playing along to see what or whom or where they take you to, you don’t feel like you’re in danger, because you’re good. You’re in as much danger as you want to be, or more like: when there are unpredictable variables, you know more or less where they’re going. Rock makes you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of something you don’t fucking play with, and it doesn’t help that he likes to open his mouth sometimes just to remind you you’re rolling off a cliff.

Anyway. Then you get this, and you wanna be a charming shit about it, as usual (and you intend to), you just also wonder how much he’s falling off a cliff.

He gets bad nightmares. You know that because of the trip to the Reach. You do also know it because of the tightness in Blade’s lip when you mentioned it offhand later— there’s history there; they’ve been worse than that. You also know it because you picked the brains of a couple recruits who were standing around griping after Trouble sent them for something like twenty laps around the compound (not a real intuitive head for numbers on that man): apparently, it was Captain Nomura they’d been gossiping about, and Trouble was a hardass about it.

It’s the one thing that makes you feel borderline… even. If not even, then at least okay with it.

That’s a lie, you’d probably feel okay with it anyway, you got down to being okay with whatever he’s doing to you the minute you realized you were this invested. It’s just something you use to put things in perspective. There are things you didn’t exactly expect to peel open for him, about you. But there are also things he’s not asking to broadcast publicly to every hard-luck-fleer who wanders onto the Shepherds compound to recruit. Rumors about the head of the Thieves Guild abound, but the unflattering ones are usually less true, and the untrue ones abound so plentifully that no one knows heads or tails of that, anyway.

Feels fair he should have secrets from someone. You’re still gonna fucking dig your way into them before they bury him alive, it’s just. Yeah, you haven’t had your brain pulled open onto a projection screen.

So he has nightmares. You’re not actually sure how often. Technically, you don’t have proof they haven’t gotten better since you last heard. But since you’re not bound to the same evidence requirements as a court of law, and since it’s become a roulette game of how grouchy Rock’s gonna be minute-to-minute, he was dodgy about the prospect of rooming with you or anyone on this mission at all, and he’s recently had a god or demon or trick of the light try to tell him (plus all of the rest of you) that he’s less Mage and more something else’s torn out rib, you can look at two plus two plus two and say probably.

You’ve learned how not to dream. It’s basically the same as learning how to wake up when you want to. When you did dream, you dreamt of mutiny, imaginary holes you left and getting torn down through them. You were always yourself in your dreams—some people are characters, tropes, or other people they know, apparently; you wouldn’t know. Now you keep that in the waking world, and you keep ten paces ahead of it.

That’s the thing you’re deadly sure about in him. That he’s keeping ten paces ahead of something. You—your whole tether to his side—account for anything from like one to like eight of them, as far as you can tell. That’s all you know.

…Well that’s the quick way to tell it. He’s keeping ten paces ahead of something inside the Shepherds. Could be Blade, but you’re not sure why. Could be the Autarchy, but that’s too simple for you. Doesn’t feel like it. Could be Ottilie’s God-given plans for a pretty obvious heathen, but your nose also says it’s not that easy.

He looks dead asleep right now. Comfy, you’d kind of go so far as to hope. And anyway you look at his face, still waters, and you’re a little afraid to even brush his hair out of it.

You don’t even know if he meant to lay his head down on you at all, if that’s a cliff he made his shaky peace with (or if it’s a cliff at all, if means anything to him, Hael if you know) or if he was just miserable.

You don’t know if it’s you, like the stillness might be the effect of having another body in the room that he’s willing to lay his head against— …or if maybe he just doesn’t get them every night. Or if there is one under there. But you hope he’s not dreaming.

You try to bask in it, for now. Try to pose like a king with a sweet little kitten in his lap, like a guy painted on the front of a romance novel with the sweet, innocent angel he’s seduced to lay over him, nightgown slipping down her shoulder. You spend an hour with only walls to watch, dutifully still so he can finish sleeping, and it’s only a small handful of times that you have to stop and breathe through a creep of bile up your throat.

Six-thirty hits.

���Good morning, Sunshine.”

“Mmf. What.” Rock spits a strand of hair out of his face. Yeah, you probably could have done him a favor on that instead of leaving it there for him to wake up to. But it’s funny, so, you know. Win-win.

“The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, Ottilie’s slaughtering her morning chicken—” (she is not).

Rock seems to parse the reality of where he is, and peels himself up from you, sitting facing away from you— and then he glances at you over his shoulder, for a moment, and everything about it is horribly, disressingly raw.

He looks at you a little too long. The thing about Rock is his rules are a lot like yours, and you are not supposed to say anything about it, but he’s looking at you, like he’s asking you to, and it lasts a long time.

Then he goes to brush his teeth.

[lilacmingi]

ALICE IN WONDERLAND AU ♤ PART 5: NAMJOON

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Caterpillar!Namjoon x fem reader

Word count: 2,480

You had been running for quite some time and figured it was okay to walk for a few minutes and give your lower limbs a break—they were aching anyway. Never in your life had you ran so much in such a short amount of time. You never needed to.

Now walking at a relaxed pace, any thoughts you had about running away from the red knights were replaced with other thoughts. An endless list of unanswered inquiries swirled around your mind like a raging hurricane. One after another, more and more questions popped into your restless mind.

What's so special about you and why was everyone after you? You're just... you. Nothing extraordinary or special.

Everything you'd experienced thus far had felt too outlandish to be reality. You couldn't remember how many names Yoongi had mentioned. Six? Maybe seven, men liked you?

Ridiculous.

The tip of your shoe kicked at a rock, sending it rolling along the dirt path you were walking along. You didn't even know where you were going or what lied ahead. You were lost once again and this time you didn't have a feisty cat boy to help guide you.

You can't have run very far, but maybe you had gone far enough to put a little distance between you and the threat. Then again, you were unsure of how long Taehyung was able to keep those knights distracted. For all you knew, they could be hot on your trail.

As if the universe was playing a cruel trick on you, the sound of distant marching reached your ears.

Seriously? You sighed internally.

Breaking out into a sprint, you dashed down the dirt pathway to keep some separation between you and the hoard of knights. It was at that moment it dawned on you that you were leaving shoe prints in the dirt. With limited time to come up with a plan, you did the first thing that popped into your head which was to run into the cluster of plants to the right of the trail. Instead of continuing through the mushrooms and tall grass, you leapt over the path and into the lush greenery on the left, going that way instead, hoping your little trick would buy some extra time.

"Maybe that'll hold them back for a while." You spoke to yourself and took off into the thick growth of mushrooms and curly vines.

Your running never ceased no matter how bad your legs throbbed or your lungs burned, refusing to stop until you could no longer hear the perfectly synchronized marching.

You huffed and puffed for air, panting heavily and stumbling forward, as your knees were on the verge of giving out on you.

At that moment, you could hear someone's voice from somewhere up ahead. Whoever it was wasn't talking nor singing, but something in between. Every line he spoke came out in a rhythmic way that was pleasing to the ears. The words he uttered were done so eloquently and without any slip-ups. This man's voice was entrancing and pulled you towards it like a siren song.

Too enraptured by the stranger's mesmerizing voice and hypnotic words, you paid no attention to your surroundings and tripped over a tree root that had breached the ground.

"Ow." You grunted and sat up a little, rubbing your elbow where it had harshly collided with the dirt and grass during the tumble.

Surveying your surroundings, you found that you were in a clearing amongst the tall and unruly plants of Wonderland that you had been running through for what felt like hours.

"Stupid girl." You heard someone speak. Lifting your head, you spotted a man sitting in a fancy wingback chair made of rich blue velvet, a tall messily-stacked tower of books on the ground beside him. He was dressed sharply in a blue silk suit with a white cravat. Perched between his fingers was the mouthpiece of a hookah which sat beside the stack of books in the grass.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You should watch where you're going." He remarked, taking a puff from the hookah.

"Yeah well... people make mistakes." You huffed, getting up and dusting yourself off.

"Who are you?" The the man inquired, blowing smoke rings into the air.

"I'm Y/n."

"I know who you are."

"Then why did you ask?"

"You still didn't answer my question. Who are you?"

"I already told you."

"No. You didn't."

"Have you lost your mind?"

"I believe it's you that's lost your mind. You can't seem to remember your last visit here, can you?"

"How do you know that?"

"Silly girl. I know all."

"Well, if you know all then surely you know that I haven't the slightest idea who you are." Your arms crossed over your chest annoyedly.

You hadn't been in the presence of this man for more than a minute and he was already starting to grind your gears. Forget his pretty prose and rhythmic speaking.

"I'm Namjoon." He responded.

He seemed like a know-it-all, but you had to admit, he was very attractive. From his tanned skin to his sharp eyes and full lips. He was good-looking indeed, but his personality was ugly and undesirable.

"What's on your mind, baby?"

"What did you call me?"

"You heard me, baby." He punctuated the nickname this time.

The way he said it made your heart skip a beat. His voice dropped an octave and became breathier when he uttered the affectionate term.

You shook your head in an attempt to shake away the thoughts.

You hardly know this man, Y/n. You reeled yourself in. And he's rude.

"This is definitely a dream." You muttered under your breath lowly.

"What's that? You need to speak up, love."

So first it was stupid girl and now it's love?

"Nothing."

"Oh come on, sweetheart. You used to tell me everything."

"How should I know? I can't remember."

"Just trust me, Y/n."

Rolling your eyes, you dropped your arms at your sides, which up until that point had been crossed over your chest. "Is this a dream?"

"What do you think?" He questioned.

"I don't know. I've been back and forth with myself about that since I got here. For a while I thought it was a dream, but I was told it l wasn't. Everything is so strange and seems like a dream, but it feels very real. The emotions, the fear, the confusion. All of that seems real."

"Hm." He took a puff from the hookah and blew the smoke directly in your face. "What exactly makes you think this is all a dream?"

Coughing, you used your hand to fan the clouds away before speaking.

"Well, for one there was a giant beast searching for me. I've met a bunny hybrid, a man with a mysterious twin that no one has seen, a cat hybrid, and a hatter that's batty as ever. To top it all off, every single one of them have been fighting over me. That's what's really convincing me that this is all part of some bizarre fever dream."

"Silly girl." Namjoon chortled. "You really think you're not attractive enough for men to fight over? You think you're not desirable?"

"Not exactly. Four men fighting over you and kissing you all in one day is a bit unrealistic, is it not? I mean, it's almost as if I'm in a story or something."

Without a word, Namjoon stood up from his chair, taking long strides as he approached.

"That's where you're wrong." He whispered lowly, planting one hand on your waist. "You have no idea how entrancing you are."

As much as you wanted to speak, you were unable. Namjoon's charms had rendered you completely speechless and you were frozen in place.

"I can't believe you think so lowly of yourself." He murmured, tracing your jawline. "Oblivious girl."

You didn't have time to retaliate with a snarky comment as Namjoon leaned in closely, closing the gap between your faces.

Thinking you were about to be kissed for the third time that day, your body stiffened in preparation, but you never felt his lips on yours. Instead, he turned his head slightly and placed a gentle kiss on the outer corner of your mouth.

"Does it feel like a dream now?" He asked lowly, his breath fanning against the side of your face.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry.

"No." You barely managed to utter.

He pulled back and ran his thumb over your bottom lip, desire clouding his eyes.

"I really want to kiss you properly, but I'll save that for a later time."

As much as you wanted to ask what that was supposed to mean, you couldn't. His gentlemanly display of affection had your heart racing at a rapid pace. Everyone you'd met so far had kissed you in one way or another and you found it nice that Namjoon chose not to go directly for the lips like Yoongi and Taehyung had so boldly done earlier. It showed that he cared about you, even if only a little bit, putting your comfort over his desire to place his lips directly upon yours.

Namjoon could see the spaced-out expression on your face and chuckled softly, guiding you to his chair where he returned to his seat, patting his lap.

You were hesitant.

"Don't be shy." He beckoned.

You obliged, albeit awkwardly, and took a seat on his legs.

"I'd offer you another place to sit but as you can see, there is none."

"Right. Of course." You nodded.

It was a bit awkward just sitting there, especially in his lap, so you tried to come up with a topic to talk about.

"What exactly were you doing earlier before I showed up? Reciting poems?"

"You heard me?"

"I did. You sounded great."

"Really?" He asked, cracking a smile that showed off a charming set of dimples.

"I must admit, I was entranced. Your rhythmic way of speaking was almost hypnotic. It was like you were putting on a performance."

Your praises made a monsoon of affectionate emotions flood through him, his stomach filling with a flurry of butterflies.

"I love to read and if I find an excerpt or poem that speaks to me, I memorize it. I must have been practicing when you showed up."

"I suppose you have to find something to pass the time when you're sitting in the middle of nowhere." You joked.

"Actually, I do have a place of my own."

"You do?"

He let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a huff and scoff. "Well I certainly don't sleep here in this chair out in the open."

"Of course you don't. How ignorant of me." You commented, giving a playful roll of your eyes.

"You're starting to sound like me." He tittered.

Namjoon's attitude had changed a noticeable amount since first meeting him not too long ago. You quite liked this side of him. It was much better than the arrogant know-it-all that was grinding your gears earlier.

"Do you happen to know Taehyung, Yoongi, Jimin, and Jungkook?" You inquired.

"Of course I do. They're my friends."

"Then you know you've got some incredibly brave friends. They've been protecting me."

"From The Red King, right?"

"How did you—" You stopped mid-sentence.

"I know all." The both of you spoke in unison, laughing softly afterwards.

"I know about The Red King situation." He stated. "Word travels fast here."

"Taehyung said he sent Jungkook to get me and bring me to him so he could protect me."

"Taehyung? Protect you? That's hilarious." Namjoon laughed.

"Why?"

"I love him to death; he's one of my best friends, but he's a bit... irresponsible sometimes. He gets way ahead of himself and underestimates the situations he gets himself into."

"Ah. I see."

"If anyone can protect you, it's The White King."

"Yoongi mentioned him during an argument with Taehyung." You noted.

"Those two are arguing again? About what?"

"Again?" You echoed.

"They don't get along well." Namjoon sighed, visibly exasperated just talking about it. "So what was it this time?"

"This is embarrassing, but they were fighting about me."

"I should've known. You had mentioned something about men arguing over you, but I wasn't aware it was my own friends." He shook his head in disappointment. "Did they pull any moves on you?"

"Well—"

"Y/n?"

The sound of your name being called in the distance had you sitting up straighter, trying to figure out who it was. There was rustling in the plants, which meant someone was making their way towards you.

"Found her." Yoongi's voice was above you.

Glancing up, you saw the cat hybrid floating in the air, looking down at you from his suspended position in the atmosphere.

Taehyung then emerged from the tall plants, dusting off his silk robe.

"Thank goodness you're okay! I told you I'd look for you. Did I not?" He lifted his head, gasping when he saw the scene in front of him.

Taehyung was looking forward to finding you safe and sound, but what he didn't expect was to find you sitting in Namjoon's lap.

"Give me my Y/n back, Joon."

"She's not yours." He spoke sternly, wrapping his arm around your waist in a protective, maybe even possessive, manner.

"Do you like him, Y/n?" Yoongi questioned, crossing his arms as he returned to the ground.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Namjoon cut in before you could say a word.

"Leave her alone. The poor girl has been through enough today."

"C'mon, sweetheart." Yoongi held his hand out to you, silently beckoning you to come with him. "I can take you somewhere safe."

"No, come here." Taehyung extended his hand as well.

"She's not going with either of you. Taehyung, you're an idiot for thinking you could keep her safe." Namjoon spoke sharply.

"Excuse me?"

Yoongi snorted, causing Taehyung to shoot a sharp glare at him. The hybrid cleared his throat and was quick to wipe the grin off his face.

"Sorry." He muttered.

"It's the truth." Namjoon stated. "You get way too overzealous and think you can take on the world, but you can't. In fact, if Y/n stayed with you, she'd probably be locked up in The Red King's castle right now."

They all started arguing after that, shouting over one another and throwing insults left and right with no signs of stopping.

Not again.

"Guys, please don't start." You groaned, pulling Namjoon's arm off of you and getting to your feet.

Just like back at the tea party, none of them heard you, too engrossed in their own petty argument to listen.

Throughout all the commotion, you didn't even notice the sound of The Red King's knights marching straight towards you.

➯ Part 6: Hoseok

Masterlist ᝰ

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz

[tmnt-tychou]

Some Kind of Wonder

Reader x 4 Turtles (slight Leo x Reader)

Reader is the same age as the turtles

The first time she saw them, she was seventeen. It was her first real job; grave shifts cleaning office buildings. She didn't mind the work. She had always been a night owl anyway, and she got to see inside all those fancy high-rise buildings downtown. The city was so pretty at night. She particularly loved those buildings where all the walls were made of glass. She would stand with the lights off, looking down at the city lights.

It was only because she had the lights off that she noticed them. They did not see her. There were four of them and they were big. Four massive shadows that zipped across the whole side of the building as if they had the power of flight. Wait, no, that wasn't it. They were swinging on ropes. Or some kind of zip line? They seemed human like with arms and legs, but large, bulbous packs on their backs and so much bigger than any person she had ever met.

She tripped on her own cleaning bucket and nearly plowed over a desk as she tried to follow them. They swung across the entire side of the building and then around the next corner. She struggled to keep up, trying to get a good look at them. As they then swung around the third side, she moved to cut them off. She practically vaulted over a table to catch them and slid to a stop, panting and eyes wild.

Hands pressed to the glass, she watched as they came her way. Though her heart was pounding in her chest, she wasn't afraid. They were close, so close when they passed her. Only a couple feet away. She would never forget how they looked; strong and effortless. Graceful. They weren't human at all. They were something else. Something magical. Something that spoke to her without words and made her heart soar as they too soared in a panoramic display of strength and agility.

It all lasted less than a minute before they were off to into the night and she was left alone. In their wake was a kind of wonder left in her heart. Like believing in Santa again. A feeling she hadn't felt since she was a child.

She wanted to chase that feeling.

So she watched the city and she watched the night. Her job afforded her these things. She could look at the city from above. Different buildings, different views. She would stand in the darkness, gazing, hoping. And as the months went on, she managed another glimpse or two. Nothing like that first night, but sometimes she would catch them on a rooftop here and there. They were always on the move, never staying in one place too long. But it was proof that that first time hadn't been a dream. They were out there in the city somewhere, running through the night. Running through her dreams, even when she was awake.

The next summer she was no longer satisfied with catching a hopeful glimpse now and then, she started hunting. She began to learn the city, learn how to get access to different buildings, different roofs. It became an obsession now. She had to see them, and not from behind glass. She had to have that feeling again. That feeling of seeing them so close, of almost touching the magic of them.

It was a grueling, exhausting, and sometimes frustrating endeavor. Sometimes it was weeks, even months without a sighting. Sometimes she felt like she had seen them for the last time. That they would never appear again. But they always managed to pop up when she was at her lowest, when she was losing faith. Thus, the obsession went on.

One year turned into two, into three, and then into six. At age twenty-three, she had become a pro at hunting these mystery creatures. Crypids she often thought of them as with amusement. And she wasn't the only one. There were online posts about large creatures running around New York, but no one knew them like she did, and she never shared her information. Too many people seemed concerned with exposing them. That wasn't what she wanted. She just wanted that high. She wanted to touch their magic one more time. Every time, it was always one more time.

She couldn't quit them. She couldn't quit the feeling. And by now, she had become both the expert and the addicted.

There were four of them, she knew this for sure. Whenever she saw them, there was always four—no more, no less. They could talk. She had heard their voices at a distance more than once. They all sounded male as far as she could tell. By her sixth year, she had learned some of their habits. They toured the city in specific routes. Seven of them she had identified through the years. She had a map on her wall, the routes identified A-G with a different color for each. So far, she couldn't discern any schedule to the routes. They seemed to be picked at random, which made it hard for her to guess where they would be. There were a few specific places in town where, if she saw them there, she knew which route they were on and where they would be later.

This afforded her opportunities to take pictures. Granted, they were all taken in total darkness of fast-moving targets. But she had managed to get a few she was proud of. They, too, hung on her wall. It looked like the wall of a detective trying to catch a serial killer. Along with her maps and pictures, several notes were also on the walls on either note paper or post-its.

“TURTLES” was written on one and underlined several times. Another note posed the question “They like pizza?” The photos had helped her differentiate between the four. At first, her brain couldn't process the differences. But after a few photos, she noticed they were different sizes. And that they wore clothes. Not only that, someone had color-coded them with bands around their faces. Red, Purple, Orange, and Blue. Those were the only names she knew to call them. And strangely, they felt like family. She always felt like if they were out there, she would be alright.

**********

Like most nights, she gathered her gear: camera, night vision goggles, notebook, and something special for this trip. When it grew dark, she took to the streets. She had her favorite places to wait for them. A few spots where various routes criss-crossed with each other. She picked a building where the beginning of routes B, F and G would be hit and stayed there, waiting until nine. No sign of them. So she moved onto the second place planned that night. The back end of routes A, C and D would hit this neighborhood and she scouted out a few lower rooftops.

By then, she had gotten to know a great deal of the city from above herself. And had even worked on her own physical prowess to do a little roof-hopping of her own. Of course, she would never be able to make the kind of jumps she had seen them manage, but it was fun to live just a tiny bit of their lives. By 11 PM, she hadn't seen anything. This wasn't abnormal. There were still many a night when she didn't see them. Maybe they took route E tonight, or maybe her timing was off. Or maybe they weren't out that night. She postulated there were times when they just stayed home, where ever home was to them.

Either way, it was getting late and it was time for her to get home, too. She packed up her gear and was just about to climb the fire escape when she heard an incredible thud. Something large and heavy, both of solid shell and flesh, had crashed on the rooftop next to hers. She froze, heart pounding. There should be no crash. They were big, but they were swift and sure-footed. Soundless in their flight. They did not crash.

Slowly, carefully, she turned her head. The other roof already had some random debris scattered on it, but there was definitely a dark shape that didn't belong. And it wasn't moving.

The space between the two buildings was a bit further than what she had practiced with. But adrenaline sent her flying and she managed to tuck and roll onto the next roof. She pulled up into a crouch, still and wild-eyed as she looked at the big, shelled body. She had only been this close to any of them once before: that first night. Watching them fly effortlessly over the city. That seemed the proper way to keep things. Her in her place with them left free to soar far from her. This one was grounded, wings clipped. This couldn't be.

In practically a crawl, she approached, making her way around the shell, but keeping a respectful distance. Trying to figure out which one this was. He still wasn't moving so she ducked in closer. Afraid he might be dead. Now only a few feet away, she saw a very slow rise and fall of the chest, but it didn't look good. He was hurt, he was bleeding. Was it the fall? Or did someone do this to him?

She reached out to touch the mask as she realized which one this was, but pulled away. She looked to the sky and the rooftops around them. There didn't seem to be any others. There was always four. There had always been four. Where were the other three? “What happened, Blue?” she whispered. “Where's your family?”

His eyes snapped open. They were electric blue in the dark and seemed to glow with a light all their own.

“What did you call me?” he demanded with a growl.

She jumped back and fell on her ass, crab-crawling backward until she hit a cooling unit. She knew they spoke something because she had heard male tones in the night. Yet, she wasn't expecting perfect English. She had assumed they had their own language of...whatever type of people they were.

Blue regarded her with his suspicious, electric blue eyes and then grunted, holding his side where a good amount of blood was leaking out.

“You need to get out of here,” he told her. “It's not safe. The Foot might still be chasing me.”

“The terrorist group?” she squeaked. “They know about you?” She glanced around again. “No one's been here. No one's followed you.”

Blue groaned as he painfully rolled over on his side and pulled what looked like a cell phone from his pocket. It was completely crushed; didn't even turn on. He looked at the device with disgust and dropped it. Then his head lulled to the side and he was still again. The pool of blood around him was growing. It leaked thickly from his side and dribbled down the hard shell on his stomach. He was bleeding to death.

Without thinking, she took off her hoodie, bunched it up and pressed it to the wound. Blue stirred again with a pained groan, but didn't move. Only opened his gorgeous eyes at her.

“Tell me how to help you,” she said.

“My...brothers,” he whispered.

“Can I call them for you? Do they have phones, too?”

He closed his eyes as if it was too much work to keep them open. “Don't know if you can. They're on their own network.”

“I can try. What's a number I can call.”

“Don't know...they were already in the phone.”

“You don't know your brothers' phone numbers?” she demanded.

He made a wry sound of humor. “I'm not...good with phones.”

Blue was not good with phones. Something to put in her notes. Something so weirdly human it didn't seem to belong on her obsession board at home.

“How do I find your brothers? How can I get them to you?” No answer. “Blue!” She dared to touch him, shake his shoulder. He didn't move.

She jumped to her feet, looking around wildly as if help would be found in a corner somewhere. There was nothing. But above, there were taller buildings. And this place was on some of their usual routes. Would the others be coming by this area? If so, how could she alert them to look here?

Then, she remembered the extra item she had packed.

Since she had learned their routes, she tried leaving presents for them, just to see what would happen. Most of the time, the various items left in offering remained when she went back for them. Either they didn't see them or they weren't interested. Once she realized they liked pizza, she left some steaming boxes of various toppings in their way. Strangely, while the pizzas were taken, the route was then altered and none of them went back to that building.

So she never left them pizzas again, but still continued to meddle. She could never leave it alone. She always had to see what they would do. This night—this item—was no different. And maybe it would save the life of something she had always loved from afar.

**************

Leonardo groaned as he was thrown into pain and consciousness. Strong hands forced him to a sitting position as pressure was applied into his side. The Foot were always getting better, more skilled. It wasn't a lucky hit that one of them managed to get a blade into the strip of skin between his shell and plastron. Though they certainly couldn't keep up with the turtles from the rooftops, maybe they thought they hadn't needed to. They had expected him to eventually run out of blood.

But Donatello was there, putting pressure on his side. Talking to him with his calm, confident voice.

“We've got you Leo, you're going to be okay. Just hold still.”

Leonardo hardly had the strength to open his eyes. “How did you find me?”

“If you'll look, you'll see it was hard not to.”

He looked, and his world was thrown into color. All the lights of the rainbow danced through the dark, lighting up the roof around him and he stared at the magic in wonder. Michelangelo picked up the source—a flashing ball of glowing multi-colored lights—and tossed it from one hand to the other.

“Turn it off,” Raphael ordered. “If we saw it, the Foot could see it.”

Darkness fell back into the roof and Leonardo blinked. The color was gone, but that feeling was still there, making his heart pick up.

“There was a woman,” he said. “She must have brought it.”

“I'm assuming the owner of this?” Donatello held up a blood-soaked hoodie.

Leonardo glanced around the roof. There was no one else but his brothers and they had no idea who he was talking about.

****************

She ran down the sidewalk as fast as her legs could carry her. On her face was the biggest grin as her chest felt ready to burst with excitement. Eventually she had to stop to catch her breath and she laughed out loud, breathless. She had talked to one of them! And she had saved his life and helped him find his family. This was the best day ever! It was even better than watching them soar that first magical night.

She went to bed, grinning like an idiot and that feeling carried her for days after. If she hadn't been there, maybe there would only be three mystical creatures roaming the city. But she was sure as soon as Blue recovered, there would be four again. They had to have someone that took care of them, or they knew how to take care of each other. It would only be a matter of time.

So she gave it a week, then she went back to skulking around her own haunts like a wildlife photographer looking for her favorite subjects. Another week and she couldn't find them. She tried not to worry. She would still go several weeks at a time without a sighting, even with all the information she had. But it would have been nice to know if they were okay. Even if they were far away, even if it was just shadows in the distance, if she could see all four again, everything would be right in the world.

Maybe she should try the pizza again. She was certainly thinking about it. Or maybe it was still too early. How long did it take for giant turtles to heal? Maybe they healed very slowly. Maybe she should give it a few more weeks.

As she continued to eye the city with her night vision goggles, she suddenly heard a deep voice sound behind her.

“There you are, you little skulker.”

She jumped, nearly dropping her goggles as she turned around.

Red, the biggest of the four, was right there in her face, towering over her. “We've been looking all over the city for you.”

For her? Why? She stared at him slack-jawed, trying to find her voice. Behind Red's wide shell stood Purple's tall form and Orange's grinning face. For a moment, her heart sank. There was only three of them. But then Purple reached down and helped Blue up the fire escape. He climbed over the side of the building favoring his bandaged side.

The band that had been growing tighter around her chest day after day suddenly fell away. There were still four of them. Her world had been put back together.

Orange got right up in her face. “Hey, girl. I've never had a stalker before. You must be our biggest fan.”

She trembled. Being called a stalker hurt. But maybe she was. Was it wrong of her? She had never thought of it that way. But she was even more distressed that all of them were here, right on her roof talking to her. This was too close. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. They were meant to be admired from afar. She wasn't sure if she could take the wonder of them this close and her knees gave out.

She slid to the ground, watching them with wide eyes.

“Back up, guys. Give her some space,” Blue ordered. He, however, did the opposite as he approached her and gingerly sat himself down next to her with a small wince. He leaned his shell against the side and smiled at her.

“My name is Leo, by the way. But you can call me Blue if it makes you more comfortable.”

There wasn't any air in her lungs, yet she managed. She did the one thing she never thought she would be able to do. She told him her name.

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @hotredphoenix @post-apocalyptic-daydream @leosgirl82 @dilucsflame33 @fluffytriceratops

@happymoonangel and @akesdraws-blog - these two names I can’t get to pop up, but I tried. (I don’t know why it’s not working)

[arc-misadventures]

Rebirth AU:

Could we get a Jaune POV version on how Jaune "took care" of Alyx in his new life

It Was A Simple Endeavour

Six.

He had managed to skip a stone six times.

Jaune smiled to himself as he watched the the ripples cover the still lake. He was about to reach down for another stone when he her the stones shift behind him where he then grab his sword was about to turn around, and draw it when he saw his twin sister recoil in shock.

Jeanne: Were you about to draw that on me?!

Jaune: You were sneaking up behind me, thought it was a, Grimm, or Dad with another surprise training session.

Jeanne: Ahh… Well, there are rarely any, Grimm about here. And, Dad’s too busy getting chewed out by, Mom for dropping that tree on me.

Jaune: Oh yeah… That… Dad really needs to learn some restraint.

Jeanne: Why he gets into the mood, and there’s no way of stopping him. Short of brunt force, and an enrage mom.

Jaune: I prefer the former than the later in all honesty. So, do you need something, or do you wish to skip stones with me too?

Jeanne: …

Jeanne: I want to know!

Jaune: Know what?

Jeanne: How did you do it; How did you kill, Alyx?!

Jaune held his throwing arm up for a moment, before resuming his throw, he counted five times that the rock skipped across the surface before it stopped.

Jaune: Are you sure you want to know that?

Jeanne: Yes…

Jaune: You want to know how your brother killed someone?

Jeanne: Yes.

Jaune: Will you tell anyone if I tell you?

Jeanne: No.

Jaune: Arc’s promise?

Jeanne: Arc’s promise.

Jaune let loose a deep sigh before patting the open spot on the log next to him. He listened as he heard her walk over, and sit down besides him. He spared her a glance as she stared intently at him, waiting for his response.

Jaune: Now you must understand this wasn’t some spur of the moment plan, I have been working on this for years. So, if it seems far fetched, it isn’t, it was just well, well thought out.

Jeanne: And, what makes you say that?

Jaune: Needed to be the perfect crime, nothing that could trace it back to me. Even if I told you this was how I did, I could simply be spinning a talltale, and a telling you a lie.

Jeanne: True, however, considering it’s you, I’d be more incline to believe it.

Jaune: Very well. Our journey begins one year ago, when we had that family trip to, Vacuo.

Jeanne: Wait, you started this a plan a year ago? We were just twelve then! How long have you been planning this.

Jaune: Since I escaped the, Ever After.

Jeanne: Oh… Oh gods…

Jaune: Yes… So, remember when I left, saying I needed to get, Thiriana a present?

Jeanne: Partial lie I take it? I remember that you did get her that necklace.

Jaune: Correct. I got her necklace minutes after I left. What took me so long is because I went to a rather… Disputable place to get the poison I used to kill her. This shady bar, filled with cut throats, criminals and their likes.

Jeanne: Not really a place for a twelve year old to be.

Jaune: There were kids younger than me there. So, I went up to the bartender, and ordered a drink.

Jeanne: Aren’t you a bit young to drink?

Jaune: It was a password; Say the password, and you may pass, that kind of stuff. I had to tell it to him twice to take me to the guy, didn’t believe a me when he heard me say it the first time. Makes sense since I was a kid. and all. So he lead me to a room that has thus weird viper faunas who was good, damn good at making poisons. I told him I wanted a certain kind of poison, and well, I got it.

Jeanne: But, how did you get the poison?

Jaune: The, Alchemist as he likes to refer to himself as, has two ways you can pay for his products; in cash, or in purpose. The first one is self explanatory; mans gotta eat afterall. But; purpose… He has to judge whether, or not your actions justify him giving you the requested poison. And, he has high standards to pass. I went with the later, it would cost me a fortune otherwise.

Jeanne: So… What did you say to him then?

Jaune: …

Jaune: ‘I want the poison for revenge; Revenge against one that betrayed me. One that betrayed the innocent trust of a curious soul. A kin-slayer without remorse. One who has used her treachery, and vile crimes to erase the sins she committed to be seen as the true hero of the tale, for profit, and fame. I want revenge against this vile fiend, and above all, I don’t want her to know it is coming, until it was too late.’ This is what I said to him. He stared at me for a moment before he reached over, and found the poison I wanted, explain its properties, and then gave it to me.

Jeanne: Whoa… You really knew what you were doing… But, how did you know about any of this?

Jaune: Hmm? Oh, Neo took me there.

Jeanne: N-Neo… As in Neapolitan? That mute assassin that tried to kill you dozens of times before? That, Neo?!

Jaune: We fixed our differences after leaving the, Ever After. He became teammates. We worked pretty well together. Her semblance became such a beast after I amped it up.

Jeanne: But, Neo?!

Jaune: Hey, we got along really well together.

Jeanne: And, then what, you slept with her?!

Jaune: Only once. We were quite hammered at the time.

Jeanne: You two did what?!

Jaune: Actually we may have done it more than once… Three… Four times…? The way she used her semblance…

Jeanne: Oh gods… This can’t be real…?!

Jaune: Anyway, after that we went on our trip to, Vale a few months later. I learned she lived in vale, and when all of you were watching that movie in the theatre, I snuck off. I found out where she lived, and snuck in through an open window, slipped her the poison, and made it back to the movie before any of you realized I was gone.

Jeanne: But, you said you wanted to see that movie so bad! Why would you…?! You’ve seen it before haven’t you… In your past life, haven’t you?!

Jaune: Dozens of times; So I knew precisely when to leave without anyone noticing my absence.

Jeanne: Wait… We left months ago… How is she just now dead of you poisoned her months ago?

Jaune: That was the beauty of the poison I gave her: I coated one of her tea cups with the poison, its a clear liquid where if you apply an even enough coat, you would never notice it, even on a clear window pane. So, the poison waited there until she made her tea. And, once the hot tea is poured in, the poison mixes into the tea, eliminating any trace of the poison. And, as soon as you finish your afternoon cup of tea, you’re already dead.

Jeanne: Whoa… That’s… That’s a very effective poison… But… How did it… You know… Kill her?

Jaune: The poison seeps into the blood stream, lining itself across the many veins across the victums body. There it grows, slowly mixing with the blood until there is enough of it that it becomes incompatible with the victims original blood type resulting in a uncontrollable clotting cascade. And, when this happens, and if your are lucky, it will kill you… quickly.

Jeanne: How hell… That’s… Brutal…

Jaune: A slow killer, but once you’ve been affected, you are a dead man walking.

Jeanne: I see, Neo knows her poisons…

Jaune: You could say that.

Jeanne: Did you say anything to her, like sending, Alyx a goodbye note? No send off one liners?

Jaune: I wanted to, but I couldn’t think of anything clever to send to her.

Jeanne: ‘Lewis sends his regards. The Rusted Knight remembers.’ Anything?

Jaune: Jeanne… I will only reveal in her death in this one manner: I will reveal in the grim satisfaction of a job well done.

Jeanne: …

Jeanne: That’s… That’s probably for the best…

Jaune: …

Jeanne: So… About the poison…

Jaune: No I will not give it to you so you can kill, Triften.

Jeanne: WHY NOT?!

Jaune: Look…I know you hate him, and his terrible flirting techniques, but don’t you think killing him is a bit much?

Jeanne: But, he’s so annoying! And, I can’t just punch him, I could break his face if I did that!

Jaune: You could?

Jeanne: I’m a Huntress-in-training, he’s an aura-less civilian.

Jaune: Ahh, well then… Just… Just spike his drink with laxatives the next time he bothers you, and then threaten him that you will poison him again if he dares bother you. That should scare him off.

Jeanne: …

Jeanne: Damn… You’re an evil genius!

Jaune: Actually, I got that one from mom.

Jeanne: R-Really…?

Jaune: Yep.

Jeanne: Why did she do that?

Jaune: You don’t want to know. Trust me; You do not want to know.

Jeanne: …

Jeanne: Well that just makes me want to know even more now!

[bluewhale52]

Kim Yeontan, Cupid Extraordinaire

Summary: Yeontan has had it. It is time to take his human's love life into his hands- or rather, paws.

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Genre: fluff

Rating: SFW

WC: 1.9k

Recommended song to listen to while reading: it's Definitely You by V and Jin of BTS

🎄This fic is a gift, created through @bangtansecretsanta​ and is for @daechwitatamic. Hi Jo!! Surprise! I’m Eggnogg, your secret santa! Hope you enjoy this fic and that it helps you carry through the last few days of work. Have a safe trip, and stay warm! (*^.^*) 🎄

Kim Yeontan has had it.

He loves his human, he really does, but boy, Taehyung is really getting on his nerves.

Yeontan could not understand why six months ago Taehyung suddenly changed his usual grooming salon to the one further away. It took him a couple of sessions to realise that his human actually had a crush on the owner- you. So Yeontan did what he could to help- he barked and growled at everyone, but put on his best charms when you handled him. That way, it was guaranteed that only you and you alone would do his grooming, and thus giving his human more chances to interact with you.

Kim Yeontan, genius.

Kim Taehyung, not so much.

Because despite Yeontan’s effort and putting his reputation on the line, Taehyung still has not made any move on you. The human would take him from you after the session, make small meaningless talk, leave the salon; then, once at home, he would rue to the dog, regretting not asking more about your day, complimenting your choice of music or the cute dog sweater you always have on. Yeontan would just huff and roll his eyes.

So today, as he lies on the soft little pad on your work-station, while you dry and brush his hair, Yeontan decides he has to do something major- BIG- to make sure his human does not miss his chances, again. The thing is, as much as Yeontan is tired of listening to Taehyung’s whines about you, he really likes you too, maybe even more than his human does. You have the best scent in the whole world, and the nicest smelling shampoos that satisfy his senses just so. And your fingers? Oh, don’t get him started- they are so soft and deft that he always purrs whenever you massage him. He wants those fingers on him all the time, not just once a month for just an hour. All the more Yeontan has to succeed today- no more lost time because his human is being an idiot. 

“Almost done?” A gruff voice from your assistant, the feline-looking human, snaps Yeontan out of his thoughts.

“Almost,” you confirm. “Is Taehyung-ssi here yet?”

Your assistant scoffs. “Don’t worry, you look good.”

“Shut up, Yoongi! I’m just asking!”

Yoongi snickers. “Then there’s no need to get so testy! Control the blushing though, your ears are so red. Your crush is showing.” 

Yeontan’s ears perk up. Oh, this is interesting. 

“Can you just go clean up? We have no more appointments for the day.” You instruct Yoongi, then you bend down to look Yeontan in the eye. “Don’t tell your daddy that, okay? My ego can’t take being rejected by someone so handsome.”

“I bet he likes being called ‘daddy’ too!” Yoongi pipes in.

“Shut up, Yoongi!”

Yeontan purrs in satisfaction. Excellent, this will be a lot easier than Yeontan has expected. 

Yeontan smells his human arriving and immediately sits up. You have put a Christmas ribbon on his collar, and he feels confident of his plan. When the bell on the salon door jingles, he watches you patting your cheeks and taking a deep breath. 

“Hello, Taehyung-ssi! Your son is all ready for Christmas!” You lead Yeontan out towards the reception area. Yeontan can sense your nervousness, so he yips, telling you not to be because he’s got this. 

“Hello, _______-ssi! Ah, Yeontan-ah, look how cute you are!” Yeontan yips and spins in circles, showing off your work. The two humans laugh at his antics, and you pass the leash to Taehyung. 

“He looks so handsome, as always after you do your magic on him.” Yeontan wants to scoff at his human’s lame line, but notices your ears getting redder, so perhaps that actually works for you. “Oh, this is for you, just a little Christmas and thank you gift for, uh, you.”

Taehyung takes out a small black box from his bag and passes it to you. You splutter as you receive it. “Oh, you really shouldn’t have, Taehyung-ssi!”

“Yeontan really likes coming here, and you’re a really great dog groomer, so I just- well, we- want to thank you for everything.”

You thank him again and at his urging, opens the box. 

“It’s from the Pink Hamster cafe in my neighbourhood. I really like their chocolates, so I thought, you might like them too. I’m not sure if you’ve had them before though, but you know, it’s really good, and the owners are friends of mine, and I like supporting local businesses, so yeah,” Taehyung takes a deep breath. “I hope you like it.”

Yeontan turns to watch you. You bow a couple of times, thanking his human, and Yeontan yips a few times, encouraging him to say more. But Taehyung just inhales deeply and makes preparations to leave. “Let’s go, Tan-ah, let’s go home.”

Oh no, not yet. Yeontan still has a lot to do.

Before Taehyung can move, Yeontan uses all his might to surge forward, yanking his human forward closer to you. You yelp at the sudden movement and raise your hands up to catch Taehyung’s body, in the process dropping the box of chocolate to the floor. Yeontan almost gets distracted by the smell of the chocolate, but he catches himself in time and continues to run around Taehyung and you, his leash looping around both your legs, trapping you together.  

Once he feels the leash getting tight, he stops and admires his work. You and Taehyung are pressed chest to chest, trying not to hold onto each other, even though both are losing balance by the way your feet are tied together with his leash. Satisfied, Yeontan wriggles out of his collar, his head easily popping out. With his newfound freedom, he saunters over to sniff at the fallen chocolates. 

All this while, both humans have been rendered speechless, but you and Taehyung start shouting at him to stay away from the chocolates. The noise brings out the feline-human, who only laughs gleefully upon finding the scene before him.

“Yoongi, help! We got tangled! And the chocolate! Get Yeontan away from the chocolates!”

Yoongi, still chuckling, picks up the chocolates from the floor and puts them back in the box. “Lucky these are individually wrapped, otherwise they’ll go to waste,” he mutters. When he meets Yeontan’s eyes, he whispers conspiratorially. “Did you do all this, Tan-ah? You cheeky dog.”

Yeontan yips at him, telling him to pick up the chocolates and go away. To his surprise, the human winks, seeming to understand his grand plan. 

“Chocolate will be safe here,” Yoongi places the box on a high shelf, then smiles at the two tangled humans, before going back inside.

“Yoongi! Yoongi!” You shriek, calling him back to no avail.

“Oh my god, _______-ssi, I’m so sorry,” Taehyung apologizes, “I don’t know what on earth gets into Yeontan!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you place your hands on Taehyung’s shoulders. “Let’s just untangle ourselves. Can you wiggle your feet a bit?”

Taehyung tries to do what you suggest, but with little result. “It’s quite tight, I don’t have enough room. Wait, let me try to reach for the end of the leash.” He bends down, but because of the position he is stuck in with you, you end up losing your balance again and almost topple over. He catches you in time, however, and with his hands on your sides,  helps you to straighten yourself.

“Well, that doesn’t quite work either.” He sighs.

“Yoongi!” You scream again for your assistant. 

Yeontan continues to watch you and Taehyung, pleased with himself. 

“Do you think we can shuffle to that seat there? Maybe one of us can sit down and it’ll be easier to take this thing off.” Taehyung proposes.

“Yes, good idea!” You exclaim. “But, uh, we have to hold on so we don’t fall.”

“Ah, yes of course. I guess you can just put your hands around me? I mean, my shoulders! My shoulders, put your hands there.” Taehyung clears his throat. “And uh, is it okay if I hold you here?”

You nod and Taehyung grips the sides of your arms.

“Okay, ready?” “Yup. On three we start shuffling together.” You affirm.

“Okay. One, two, three!”

Yeontan takes a step back as the two humans start wriggling around. It reminds him a little of a caterpillar he found once in the park. 

You suddenly stop, however, when Yoongi is back in the reception area, with his jacket and bag… and a bowl of dog food?

“Yoongi? You’re leaving?”

“Yes. Have fun with,” Yoongi waves his hands, “whatever it is you’re doing.”

“No, Yoongi, please, you have to help us!” You plead.

Your assistant chuckles and places the bowl of food near Yeontan. “Good boy. Enjoy dinner and entertainment.”

“Yoongi!”

“So,” the man simply puts on his beanie and buttons up his jacket, ready for the wintry weather outside. “in case she forgets to mention- for whatever reason- she and our friends are having a get together here on Christmas day. Bring a plate or a bottle if you’d like. We’ll eat, get drunk and watch Muppet Christmas Carol. Oh, and definitely bring Yeontan too. There’ll be lots of other dogs he can play with.”

“Yoongi!” You hiss at him.

“Okay, then, have fun you two!”

Yeontan is too busy enjoying his food when the feline-human leaves, but he does not miss the gummy smile and two thumbs up he gives you from the window.

“Oh my god,” you groan, “he could’ve at least helped!”

“Don’t worry, ______-ssi, we’re almost there!”

Yeontan perks up at his human’s voice. There is more confidence in it, so Yeontan yips at him in approval. 

You laugh and rest your head on Taehyung’s shoulder. “This is so funny.” Your body starts to shake as you laugh more loudly. He starts laughing too, and without saying anymore words, you both continue to shuffle towards the seat.

Finally you reach your destination, and Taehyung volunteers to sit down so he can untangle the mess his dog has caused.

Yeontan observes you looking away and biting your lip when his human reaches down to your bound feet. The position is awkward considering your close proximity, and Taehyung’s face is so close to your outer thighs. He stares at Yeontan as he unwraps the leash.

You should be thanking me, Yeontan mumbles. His human narrows his eyes at him.

Your feet free at last, you take a step back to give space for Taehyung to straighten up.

“Maybe I should get a shorter leash?” 

You cover your face as you laugh. “That’s a good idea.”

You both stand awkwardly facing each other, and Yeontan promises himself to nip his human’s foot if he stays silent for another second.

“Um, can we buy you dinner,” Taehyung glances at his dog, “to make up for what happened?”

Yeontan yips and spins in circles. Bravo, human!

You look taken aback by Taehyung’s request, and you look at Yeontan as well. The dog stops spinning and trots over to you. He stands on his hind legs, while he paws at your leg. 

Say yes! He’s really fun, you will like him a lot!

You smile at his antics. “Okay,” you agree. “Just give me a few minutes to close up?”

Taehyung nods and watches you fondly as you go back inside. Then he picks up Yeontan’s collar to put it back on him.

“You,” he squeezes Yeontan’s face in his hands, “you are something, Tan-ah.”

Yeontan licks his nose. Taehyung ruffles his hair and places a kiss on his head.

“Thanks for the push, son.”

Ta da! Hope you enjoyed reading this, Jo! Happy Holidays!

Like this fic? Please reblog if you do! Published on 21122022, crossposted to my AO3