#I ALSO PICKED UP TWO (2) TRANSFORMER FIGURES BEFORE HAND THIS HAS BEEN SUCH A GOOD DAY

[siyratiin]

JUST SAW TMNT MM HOLY SHIT THAT WAS INCREDIBLE I AM SO FJDBFKFFBKBF I LOVE THEM ALL!! SO MUCH!!!! EEEEEEEE

(long tags)

[renjunniex]

Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader Series

Venomous

Omega Part 1 | Omega Part 2 | Shape Shifted | Ice Pick | Abomination | Frenemy | Restraint | Raving | Party Guessed | Fury

Prompt: Apparently knowing what the creature is doesn’t really help when you don’t know how to stop it. Derek, however, seems to have a plan that’s going to cause a lot of trouble for everyone.

a/n: guyssss super excited for this because this chapter will be the start of WAYYY more Isaac and y/n!! anyways hope you guys like it! let me know what you think 🤗

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You were searching through your locker looking for your textbook but your mind was also currently very distracted. The night of the game was a stressful one, even though you did end up with more information of what the scaly murderer was. A Kanima, you still remember the conversation from that cold night crystal clear.

“Is that even a language?” Stiles commented frustration dripping from his words.

“How are we supposed to figure out what this thing is,” questioned Scott as you scrolled through the contents of Gerard’s hard drive.

“It’s called the Kanima.”

You felt yourself sneer at the approaching pair, you three faced the Alpha and Beta. You crossed your arms like it was some kind of armor against them. “You knew the whole time,” Stiles concluded.

“No. Only when it was confused by its own reflection.”

“It doesn’t know what it is,” you said letting your arms dropped to your side eventually. Derek gave a sharp and small nod, “Or who.”

“What else do you know?” Stiles asked.

“Just stories. Rumors.”

“But it’s like us?”

“It’s a shapeshifter, yes. But it’s not right. It’s like a…” he hesitated. You shuffled, the whole discussion making you uncomfortable. You mumbled slightly as you fixed your stance, “An abomination.” Derek looked at you before nodding once more. He gave the signal and Erica and him began to leave but Scott stopped them, calling Derek’s name. “We need to work together on this. Maybe even tell the Argents.”

“You trust them?”

“Nobody trusts anyone,” you felt your voice rip out of your throat before you could even think, “That’s the problem.”

“While we’re here arguing about who’s on what side, there’s something scarier, stronger and faster than any of us, and it’s killing people!” You could here the clear stress coming from Scott as he lectured Derek. “And we still don’t even know anything about it!” Scott’s point made Derek’s expression harden.

“I know one thing. When I find it, I’m gonna kill it.”

SLAM!

Your whole body jumped as your locker was slammed shut. Behind the now closed locker door was Stiles, panting, he grabbed your wrist before starting to rush you towards the classroom. Once you reached the door, he let go of your wrist and crashed into his seat leaning over Scott's shoulder.

"Dude, I just talked to my dad, who just talked to Jackson, and I've got really terrible, horrible, very, very bad news."

Scott gestured ahead of him, "I think I already know."

Isaac.

You, on the other hand, didn't respond. You just stared at the now filled seat. In your now slightly unfocused vision, you could see your two best friends turned towards you. They were waiting on your reaction.

Letting your eyes carry themselves over to the boys, you gave an awkward smile before slowly making your way to your usual seat, right behind the curly haired werewolf. The teacher's voice could be heard as class began but your focus was only on the leather jacket wearing boy in front of you. You could practically feel the arrogance radiating off of him. It made your blood boil. You didn't understand him anymore. One minute he was the shy and nervous boy you had always known and then the next he was as cocky, if not more so, than the current Erica. It made you wonder if everything he has said to you since his transformation has been an act. Could you trust anything he said anymore?

You felt two pairs of hands on your shoulders, waking you from your frenzied thoughts. You hadn't even realized the bell ringing or the students leaving. You had daydreamed the whole period. Glancing to meet Scott's eyes before shifting to Stiles for a moment, you could see the sympathetic looks they were giving you.

"Don't look at me like that, please," you uttered quietly as if your voice would shatter the world if you spoke too loudly. You finally rose from your seat, gathering your things before motioning to the door. The boys took their designated spots on either side of you before Stiles began speaking.

"Alright, I only found one thing online called the Kanima. It's a were-jaguar from South America that goes after murderers."

Scott's eyes widened slightly, "That thing was not a jaguar."

"Yeah and I'm not exactly a murderer," Stiles pointed out. You felt yourself smile at the two boys as you witnessed the exchange.

"Yeah, but you did see it kill somebody, which is probably why it tried to kill you. And it's still trying to kill you, and it probably won't stop until you're dead," Scott concluded walking away as Stiles stopped in his tracks.

A cackle left your mouth as Stiles called out to the werewolf boy now in the distance, "You know, sometimes I really begin to question this 'friendship'." He air quoted as your laugh continued to echo through the halls. Stiles scoffed at you before placing his hand on your back and pushing you forward.

Little did you know, your laughing and Stiles had distracted you enough that you didn't notice the blue eyed werewolf standing nearby staring at you, longingly.

You three had finally made it to Coach's class, taking your seats, you guys began setting up for the period. Sadly for you, you had gotten stuck behind Stiles meaning next to you sat... Jackson. Who, unfortunately for you, was here today. He rushed in sitting in his seat.

"Hey, testicle left and right." You saw the boys' forms physically change from annoyance at the rich boy's voice.

"What the hell is a Kanima?"

That question made all three of you jump and look at Jackson. Then a slam could be heard, followed by Coach's voice.

"Okay, listen up. A quick warning before we begin our review. Some of you, like McCall, might want to start their own study groups, because tomorrow's midterm is so profoundly difficult... I'm not even sure I could pass it." He took a breath before continuing, however, you weren't listening and neither were your friends as you three turned back to Jackson.

"Paralyzed, from the neck down. Do you have any idea what that feels like," Jackson snarled his head whipping back and forth between you three.

"I'm familiar with the sensation," Stiles commented unamused. You snorted earning yourself a glare from Jackson.

"Wait..." Scott paused, "Why would Derek test you? Why would he think that it's you?"

"How should I know?"

"Do they think it's Lydia?" Stiles urged. Jackson shrugged, "I don't know, all I heard was her name and something about chemistry."

"JACKSON!" Coach screamed, catching your attention. "Do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

"Umm... Just an undying admiration for my... My coach."

"That's really kind of you," Coach said sarcastically. Jackson held a high and mighty look on his face but Coach ruined it before he could bask in his made up glory.

"Now, SHUT UP! SHUT IT! Anybody else?"

Once Coach had turned back towards the board, Scott's hands were grabbing Stiles' collar and your sleeve tugging you both to him.

"How do we know that it's not her?"

"We don't," you said. Stiles gave you a look before speaking, "Because I looked into the eyes of thing, okay? And what I saw was pure evil. And when I look into Lydia's eyes, I only see fifty percent evil."

You scoffed, "Oh yeah, cause that's helpful."

"Alright, maybe sixty. You know, but no more than forty on a good day."

"Stiles, that's not a very good argument," Scott replied.

"I'm aware of that, but I swear it's not her. It can't be, alright? Lydia's fine."

"On another note, please never become a lawyer," you joked earning a light smack on the head from Stiles.

You three were interrupted by Coach calling the red haired girl's name. If by fine he had meant completely out of her mind, then Stiles would be right. She had tears running down her face and she was gasping as if she just awoke from a nightmare.

"Okay then, anybody else want to try answering? This time in English?" The call reply in laughter.

Behind Lydia, on the chalk board, were letters she had written. You immediately recognized them to just be backwards, when flipped they spelt out 'SOMEONEHELPME'. Apparently you were the only one to see that.

"What is that, Greek?"

"No, actually, I think it is English." Stiles showed a photo of the words and then flipped them.

"You needed your phone to read that?"

~

"Derek is not gonna kill her without proof," stated Scott as you three walked into chemistry. "Alright, so he tests her like he did with Jackson, right? But when and where?"

You saw Erica and Isaac walked into class right then, their eyes immediately shooting over to you three. Your arms shot out, the backs of your hands tapping their abdomens. They both looked at you, turning in the direction of where you gestured. Scott panicked, "I think here and now."

You saw the different expressions on their faces Erica look determined and confident, ready for a showdown. Even though Isaac gave you an unsure look, he was the one to start the duo's advancing. You felt your body throw itself forward as you rushed to beat them to the seat, which you did, you gave them both a snark before giving Lydia the best smile you could without showing how nervous you were.

A second later both Stiles and Scott joined you, Scott on your side and Stiles on Lydia's. You gave them panicked eyes and all you did was receive two shrugs. Lydia looked startled, glancing at you with questioning eyes and when you gave her no answer she rolled them before turning her attention to her textbook.

Allison walked in not a moment too later, definitely surprised to see her usual spot taken by you. She looked to Scott for answers as she sat at the other table across. Scott nudged his head backwards and she got the messege.

"Einstein once said, 'Two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.'" Mr. Harrison took a pause patting Stiles' shoulder, "I myself have encountered infinite stupidity." He walked to the front of the class as he continued his lecture, "So to combat the plague of ignorance in my class, you're going to combine efforts through a round of group experiments. Let's see if two heads are indeed better than one. Or in Mr. Stilinski's case, less than one." You could practically feel Stiles' annoyance from the man's words.

"Erica, you take the first station," you heard the rustle as almost everyone raised their hands, clearly trying to volunteer themselves, "You'll start with..." Harrison had stopped due to the show of hands, you glanced around the room seeing everyone but you, Allison, Lydia, Stiles, Scott, and Isaac raising their hands.

"I didn't ask for volunteers. Put your hormonal little hands down." His eyes met your table, "Start with Mr. McCall. Alright, next two." You felt Scott tense beside you as students started to shuffle when being called, you placed your hand on his arm trying to offer comfort.

"Ms. (L/N), you're with Mr. Lahey."

Your head shot up, eyes wide, you sucked in a breath. You gave both Stiles and Scott worried looks before slowly getting up and moving to the seat that was previously occupied by the blonde werewolf. You sat with a huff and Isaac's head tilted towards you.

"Hello there, beautiful, long time no see."

"Don't," you whispered. He had his head leaning on his elbow, he slid his elbow down the table his face now in your eye line, "Oh come on, you haven't missed me?"

"Stop acting like this is some kind of sick game," you said harshly, your voice low so no one could hear you. He smirked before straightening his posture to start working. He sat there quietly measuring with a smug look on his face. You finally turned to him when you couldn't handle the silence anymore.

"Whatever your plan is, please, just leave her alone," you pleaded. He sat down the beakers before facing you, he brushed a hair out of your eye, "Do you even like her, why do you care?" You scoffed, the audacity, who cares what you thought of the girl. Killing someone was wrong, why couldn't he see that?

"Just because I'm not close to her doesn't mean I can just toss her life away. She doesn't deserve that," you took a pause and finally made eye contact with him. His face softened ever so slightly, you could've convinced yourself that you had imagined it. But you hadn't, he almost looked like his old self. "Just please, stop, you don't have to do this," you spoke softly.

"Sorry, but I have to do this, Derek's orders."

Ding!

"Switch!"

You got up quickly, when you saw Scott sit with Lydia you headed to a station that was empty. You took a deep inhale and shook your hands, you hadn't noticed until now, you were shaking.

The screech of the seat sounded next to you meaning someone was now accompanying you at the station. You looked to your side only to feel a sense of dread, it was Erica. She was definitely the more aggressive of the two betas... at least when it came to you that is.

Trying to mind your business you just grabbed the measuring tubes and began to mix what you were being told. "You know, I don't see what he sees in you."

"Excuse me?"

"Isaac, I don't understand what he sees in you. To be honest, you seem quite boring."

You gave her a sickly sweet smile, "Well, I'm deeply sorry to disappoint but I couldn't care less of what you think of me." She shrugged, "Just saying considering how many hoops Derek has to jump through to keep him in line simply because of you, I figured there would be something interesting there." You raised an eyebrow at her words, what the actual hell was she talking about?

"I don't know what you mean."

"What I mean is that anytime you're in his eyesight he gets all mushy and Derek is concerned on his loyalty, so if I have to create some distance between you two myself I will." At this point you had one hand gripping the desk so hard to keep yourself under control. You whipped your head to finally face her.

"And what the hell is that supposed to insinuate?"

"I'm just saying, maybe the event of a hurt friend would take your mind off of him for a while."

You lightly slammed your palms on the table, "You lay one finger on any of my friends and I swear to everything, I will break every bone in your body and grind them into dust." You felt her hand grab your arm, her claws digging into your skin, her eyes glowing. You winced and you felt yourself get slightly fuzzy. You were losing what little control you had. You could feel the familiar heat from your eyes, there was no doubt they were glowing as well. Without thinking you grabbed her clawed arm with your free hand, you could feel heat radiating from your palm. She instantly let out a pained groaned, letting go as the bell dinged once more.

You got up, looking at your now slightly bleeding wound on your forearm. You looked for a seat only to see that Isaac was already sitting with Lydia. Frantically, you looked for Stiles and Scott only to find them sitting together. They gave you panicked looks and you returned it as you sat at another table.

Your eyes did nothing but burn holes into Lydia's and Isaac's backs as you watched him interact with her. He didn't give any noticable signs that he has trying to do anything to her, yet that is.

"Time. If you've catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should now be looking at a crystal." You indeed were looking at a crystal, you turned back to the boys only to see them looking at their glob and then Scott casted his attention to the red head and beta across from you. You joined him in leading your eyesight over to the pair to see Isaac picking up the crystal, observing it, and then offering it to Lydia.

"Now for the part of that last experiment I'm sure you'll all enjoy, you can eat it."

Lydia took the crystal from him and your eyes widened in realization when you could faintly see the clear viscos liquid on it. Glancing at your crystal still in the beaker you confirmed what you were thinking. The kanima's toxic, they had put it on the crystal.

"LYDIA!"

You jumped at the booming sound of Scott's voice and you weren't the only one. Lydia and the rest of the class projected their attention onto the boy, who was quickly embarrassed and dismissed Lydia's question before sitting back down. There was nothing you could do. All you did was sit back and watch as she ate the crystal. You waited for the sound of her dropping to the floor due to paralysis but...

It never came.

~

You led the dark haired trio into Coach's office, locking the door behind you with the keys Coach gave you at the beginning of the year. You four were currently radiating every ounce of stress possible.

"Derek's outside waiting for Lydia," Scott said as you turned to face the group.

Allison gave Scott a worried look, "Waiting to kill her?"

"Well he's sure not waiting to give her a hug," you commented scratching your forehead out of frustration, you looked at Allison for a second, "Sorry, just frustrated." She gave you a nod of reassurance before looking to Scott again for answers.

"If he thinks she's the Kanima, then yes, especially after what happened at the pool."

"It's not her," Stiles affirmed.

You groaned slightly, "Stiles, come on."

"She didn't pass the test, man. Nothing happened," Scott spoke softly but it did nothing to convince Stiles, "No, it can't be her."

"It doesn't matter, because Derek thinks it's her," Allison finally gave in with a sigh. You scoffed, "Yeah and with Derek's severe lack in brain power, that's all he needs to justify his order to kill." Allison gestured to you in agreement. "Either we can convince him that he's wrong, or we've got to figure out a way to protect her."

"I really don't think he's gonna do anything here, not at school."

The dark hair girl shot back instantly, "What about after school?"

There was a moment of silence between all for of you as you all exchanged looks. "What if we can prove that Derek's wrong," Allison asked.

"By three o'clock?" Stiles and Allison started began a back and forth.

"There could be something in the bestiary."

"OH! You mean the nine hundred page book written in archaic Latin that nothing of us can read? Good luck with that."

"Actually, I think I might know someone who can translate it," she finished.

Scott stuttered slightly, "Uh, I can talk to Derek, maybe convince him to give us a chance to prove that it's not her."

"In the mean time, we could get Lydia to our house, neutral ground. It would be safer, plus I could maybe buy us some time to get her there." You pulled out the dusty book that's been stuffed in your bag since you've gotten it. "I've been practicing," you finished.

Scott took a second to look at you three before letting out a sigh, "But if anything happens, you guys let me handle it, okay?"

"What does that mean," Allison stared at the werewolf.

"I mean you guys can't heal like I do. I just don't want you getting hurt." Allison deadpanned before pulling her crossbow out of her bag

"I can protect myself," Allison rebutted. You and Stiles let them have their moment as you placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder. You saw him fiddle with the crossbow that Allison sat down but before you could stop him, an arrow shot out and towards Scott. Luckily he had caught it in time.

"Ah, sorry. Sensitive trigger on that." You smacked his head before dragging him out of the room, where you guys tried to go about the rest of your day.

~

Stiles had some how gotten Lydia to agree to a study group, which led you to being dragged through the library with them two. She shrugged him off before heading off in front of him. Allison caught up with you eventually and then you felt another presence. You looked over your shoulder to see Jackson following you as well. You didn't even bother to question it, the uptight boy always had his reasons for his actions and you've never been able to make sense of them.

"If we're doing a study group, why don't we just stay in the library?"

"Because we're meeting up with someone else," Stiles gave her shoulder a light pat and Lydia made another argument, "Well, why don't they just meet us in the library?"

"Oh, that would've been a great idea. Too late."

"Okay, hold on-," Jackson squeezed passed you, grabbing Lydia's arm and jerking her forward, "Lydia, shut up and walk." For the first time since knowing the boy, you didn't see a reason to make a snarky comment.

"Oh, hey you guys? I forgot something back there. Go on ahead, I'll meet you guys there," you called to the group now a few feet ahead of you. Giving Stiles and Allison a pointed look, they nodded back understanding what you were planning to do. Buy them some time to get Lydia out of here.

You backtracked towards the library when you heard your name being called, "Hey, (L/N)!" You looked in the direction of the call, getting met with a flash in your eyes, raising your hands to cover the light from your face. When the flash cleared you were met with the face of Matt, a player on the team, sitting with Danny. "Thanks," he said. How odd. You gave him a look of acknowledgement, then you heard the door to the library open. You quickly ducked into one of the aisles, out of eye line.

"Where is she?" You dipped your head slightly out seeing Isaac, his hand gripping Matt's shirt with Erica just behind him. You softly reached over to the next aisle through the shelf, pushing the books on the floor to create noise. You made a dash for the side door leading into the hallway, not even a second later footsteps could be heard following you. You turned a couple corners making sure to not be fully seen before slipping into an open and empty classroom. You had maybe a couple of seconds to grab your book and flip to the newly marked page. Your eyes glided down the page straight to what you were looking for... a barrier spell. It wouldn't be very strong since this is without practice, but it was gonna have to work.

You followed the instructions closing your eyes, letting yourself connect to the energy around you like Deaton had taught you. Their footsteps kept getting clearer and clearer. When you were sure they were in reach your eyes snapped open and with a flick of your hand into the air you saw a wall of iridescent energy fly up. You heard noises of confusion as you walked out of the classroom to meet the duo's faces.

"Pretty neat, huh?"

"Let us go, (Y/N)." Isaac gave you a stern look while Erica just continued to glare. You put your finger on your chin in pretend thought, you straightened your posture before speaking, "No."

Erica shoved past Isaac, "You think your little party trick is going to save your friends from us? Derek and Boyd will just take care of them. And what do you expect to happen when you can't keep this up anymore, huh?"

You took a couple slow steps until the barrier was the only thing between you two, "Don't worry about them, Scott's taking care of it. As for you two, I'm not worried. This isn't to hold you forever, just long enough to make sure they can get her out of here. And even if I had to stay here to keep it up, I don't care what happens to me as long as they're safe." Both betas faltered at that, that surely wasn't the response they were expecting.

"By the way, don't forget," you raised your injured arm, "I still owe you one, for this." In your peripheral you could see Isaac's glance was no longer on you but on Erica. Isaac raised his hand pointing at you, "You did that?" The blond werewolf didn't answer, just kept her eyes on you.

You shook your head, "Doesn't matter, anyways, I have to get going. See you guys around." You made your way out the side doors nearby, the barrier wouldn't last long with you not there to focus on it so you needed to go, now.

Behind you as you rushed out the doors, could be heard the sound of two betas arguing.

~

When you had finally made it home, you went through the back door, locking it. You headed to the front entrance making yourself be known, "Hey, I'm here. They're definitely right behind me though."

Allison breathed a sigh of relief as Stiles gave you a secure hug, "I'm glad you're alright." You gave her a weak smile.

"Where's Lydia?"

"Upstairs with Jackson," Allison answered. You rubbed your hands together and nodded. Stiles looked at you both, "Okay, what's the plan?"

"I could maybe focus a barrier on the house, I was able to do it back in the hallway. It won't be as strong if it works but it'll at least give us some protection until Scott gets here." They gave you a look of relief and nodded.

"Okay, but don't try it until they get here, you need to preserve your energy and we still don't know how your abilities really work yet," Allison set a hand on your shoulder and you agreed.

Soon enough, night fell, Derek's pack had arrive and Scott was no where to be seen. You three were looking at the window staring back at them. They all looked so joyous like they had already won. Allison had already called Scott letting him know he need to get here.

"What are you doing?" Stiles' questioned cause you to turn to the dark haired girl who looked distress.

"I think.. I think I have to call my dad."

"But if you do that.." you started, "If he finds you here, you and Scott," Stiles trailed.

"I know. But what are we supposed to do?"

"I think now is a good time to try that barrier." While the other two kept on their conversation, you stood at the door placing your hand on it, "I'm just gonna try and focus on both doors." You closed your eyes just like before but this time you pictured that same iridescent glow wrapping around the front and back door. Once you were sure you had done it, you just tried to focus on securing it keeping your eyes closed.

"Just shoot one of them."

"Are you serious?"

"We told Scott we could protect ourselves, so let's do it. Or least give it a shot, right?"

"Okay."

"Look, they don't think we're gonna fight, so if one of them gets hit, I guarantee they'll take off. So just shoot one of them."

"Which one?"

"Derek, yeah shoot him, preferably in the head."

"If Scott was able to catch an arrow, Derek definitely can."

"Okay, just shoot one of the other three then."

"You mean two."

"No, I mean three... Where the hell is Isaac?"

Without another word, your eyes had snapped open, "What do you mean, where's Isaac?" Your focus had been completely shattered and so had the barriers. You looked out the window indeed only seeing three werewolves and the curly haired one missing. In your lost of focus you hadn't even heard said werewolf coming up behind you three.

He grabbed Allison by her shirt, throwing her aside, doing the same to Stiles as well. "Isaac, what the hell are you doing?" He ignored you, just like at the ice rink. His focus completely on Stiles, but not for long as you jumped on the boy's back. Considering you only knew a few defensive spells, you in combat was pretty much useless. The werewolf did, however, struggle to get your grip loosened from around him. You both struggled, he lost his balanced and had backed into a wall ultimately slamming you into it but you didn't let go.

In your struggle you hadn't even noticed the dark haired girl running upstairs nor the blond werewolf following her. "Let go, (Y/N)!" This time, it was your turn to ignore him, too focused on keeping your grip firm. Soon you felt the form being thrown out from under you and a grip setting itself around you. Regaining your balance you looked to your side, it was Scott. You smiled, "You made it."

You glanced at the floor to see a tall werewolf passed out on the floor, Allison came down not a moment later informing you guys of Erica's state. Scott went to collect her as you dragged an unconscious Isaac to the front door. When Scott came back with the girl, he tossed both of the betas out the front door, standing on the front porch. You walked out and joined him on his right, Allison joining you on yours and Stiles on hers.

"I think I'm finally getting why you keep refusing me, Scott. You're not an Omega. You're already an Alpha of your own pack. But you know you can't beat me," Derek held a smirk on his face.

"We can hold you off until the cops get here," you nodded in agreement. Sirens could be heard closing in, Derek's smile was quickly wiped off.

You started to hear hissing and you weren't the only one who heard it, Derek had look up at the roof. The four of you on the porch came out into the yard to see the Kanima crawling along the top of ledge. Scott kept Allison close while you and Stiles grabbed at each others arms.

"Get them out of here," Derek ordered Boyd.

Not a second later, more footsteps could be heard coming from the front door. Lydia stomping through, "Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

"It's not Lydia," you whispered.

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧

"It's Jackson."

a/n: another chapter doneeeee. honestly you guys this is probably my favorite episode of the whole season so i definitely had a lot of fun writing this. i hope you guys enjoyed and let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction @mushroomelephant

[dark--whisperings]

Fic Tag Game

Tagged by the lovely @mischievouschan4 & @wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart! 💖✨

How many works do you have on ao3?

Thirteen!!

2. What's your Ao3 word count?

101,352. And almost all of that has been in 2023!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now, only Star Wars! In the past, I've written for Transformers as well, but I wasn't as dedicated to writing for that fandom as I am Star Wars. I actually started out in fandom as a beta reader and an artist; writing is pretty new to me!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

the way you say my name - 332 kudos

Those Eyes Like Fire - 205 kudos

Falling Deep Into You - 167 kudos

out of our hands - 143 kudos

Suffocate Me (I'm Still Breathing) - 131 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments?

Always! I adore all of my readers and love a good joint flail in a comment thread!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Falling Deep Into You. Let me tell you... the boys have it BAD in this one, but we do love their inability to communicate. This is the first part of a three part series. The second part (Falling For Your Body and Soul) also has an angsty ending, but things are slowly starting to resolve in this installment. There will be a third (and final part), but I haven't started working on it yet!

7. What's the fic your write with the happiest ending?

That would be out of our hands. This one starts out angsty as fuck, but resolves into the most tooth rotting, disgustingly soft fluff I've ever written. Close second would be Those Eyes Like Fire, which is mostly snark with a side of fluff.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far! Though I have had hateful comments on my art in the past, and it's never fun to deal with. Fuck the haters!

9. Do you write smut? What kind?

Do I write smut... *checks AO3*. Yep, everything I write is smut. 🤣🤣🤣 I do lean towards more kink-focused/taboo smut. You know what they say... write the things that you would want to read as a reader!

10. Do you write cross-overs?

Not so far, and not sure I could do it justice!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet, but if anyone would like to... feel free to drop me a dm! 👀

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I have! Unfortunately, it's no longer posted, but it was a lovely experience that I would do again in a heartbeat. ALSO planning to cowrite one with @mischievouschan4 in the new year. 💖

14. What's your all time favourite ship?

I have a few! Obikin, Kylux, Kalluzeb, and Snarry!

15. What's your WIP you like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I actually don't have one of these! I only have two WIPs at the moment... one of which I'm about to post the final chapter to (Suffocate Me (I'm Still Breathing)). The other is a long fic that I've been picking away at for a while, but fully intend to finish.

16. What are your writing strength?

I like to think that I'm really good at conveying emotion and building tension with words. I've also been told by others that I'm excellent at figurative language.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm long-winded. Pretty sure I could get the point I'm trying to make across in a lot fewer words than I end up doing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I actually LOVE reading fics with dialogue in another language! I'd love to do one myself, but I'm only somewhat passable in French, and I wouldn't want to post something in another language unless I was confident in my own ability.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Transformers... which also happens to be the first fandom that I was heavily involved in! 🤖

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

the way you bend, the way you break and Suffocate Me (I'm Still Breathing), hands down. Both of these drew on some very real personal vulnerabilities, and I feel like they more than adequately represent the piece of my life that they were intended to. I'm very proud to have put them out in the world.

---

No pressure tags: @tideswept, @innepttia, @anakinschmanakin, @ineffable-snowman, @tennessoui, @fishnamedsushi

[cannibalisticskittles]

General 2-4; Story 5, 10, 11, 14, and 17; Romance 1, 3, and 9; and 12 free space: a field banter with a character of your choice (hard(?) mode: not Astarion) for Amity!! (You can...pick and choose from these if that's too many, lmao)

under a cut because long

General 2. Do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your Tav? i imagine she's recruited doing something silly/is at least somewhat in peril – stuck on the edges of the swamp behind some traps that seem to keep popping back up whenever she turns around (the redcaps are fucking with her), or caught in a web under the goblin village bc her pod crashed nearby and in her haste to not be seen, she fell thru the rotting floorboards and now she's stuck and she could burn the webs away but honestly it's a miracle that the bigger spiders haven't been drawn to her yet and that seems like a recipe for disaster, so uh, help please?

so i think more practically-minded companions – lae'zel for sure, astarion, maybe shadowheart – wonder aloud about how useful she could be, given how they've found her; the first two maybe remark that it would've been better to leave her there to figure it out for herself, lmao.  

wyll, karlach, and gale are a bit more sympathetic, and karlach just wants to pick her up and squeeze her like a lil teddy bear.

3. Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions? if you recruit her before astarion, she is livid on your behalf if you fail the perception roll and end up with a knife at your neck. she has incineration on her mind, like gale; unlike gale, she's too mad to be articulate: "if they don't walk away from this, neither will you."

she loves karlach right away. tiefling solidary is strong, and she knows devils well, and this is definitely a (pretty) tiefling and not a devil. she strongly advises hearing karlach out and helping her; she's extremely sad if you choose to fight and kill karlach instead. big disapproval hit there. don't fuck with tieflings. 

if she's in your party when you recruit gale, she doesn't say anything, but you quietly get a few points of approval if you slap his hand before rescuing him

actually wait there would be one reaction. if your party is full when you reboot Gail and he says he'll go back to camp and get started on stew, amity goes "fuck yeah, stew!!!"

4. What sort of general actions raise or lower their approval?

goody-two-shoes choices tend to net approval with her, no surprise there. tho honestly i think with amity, you'd be getting little 'amity approves!' notifications all the time, but then find out that they're mostly just +1s so even tho they can trigger often, it's hard to build high approval just with that. you get bigger approval for harder choices, naturally, and she does favor being good and kind, but it happens a bit less often. 

you can talk her into giving approval even if you decline the Extra Good and Generous option, as long as you present some logical/practical reason for it – sorry amity, helping tieflings is nice, but think about how many of them will die if we're too slow to remove our tadpoles and we all transform into mindflayers; greater good and all that, right?

…and you get approval when you do dumb, chaotic, fun things. like. you jump down the pit in the spider cavern without feather fall, and after withers revives you, amity says "that was very ill-advised, but in the moments before you splattered on the ground, it looked like a lot of fun!" and you get +10 approval.

you also get approval points when you're rude to/make fun of raphael or mizora, lmao. amity blatantly disrespects any devil lower than, like, a kyton in the hierarchy of devils. 

for specific actions, you get +10 approval for killing aunty ethel, even if you fuck up saving mayrina. fuck hags, all amity's homies hate hags. and also i think every single companion disapproves if you smear shit on your face when trying to get into the goblin camp, but y'know what? amity thinks that's very practical. fuck dignity, it avoided a fight, and she respects that. now hold still, she'll prestidigitate that off of you as soon as you turn the corner.

Story 5. How do they react to the Player Character taking their first tadpole power? she's a little horrified, but primarily at the idea that you willingly put that in your eye?? ouch?? and are you sure there's enough room in your cranium for another one of those suckers?? she does, however, ask that if you plan to do it again – not that she advises that, mind you! – that you let her watch and take notes. she promises to do her very best to suppress her gag reflex if you do. 

10. How do they react if the PC licks the dead spider in the Gauntlet of Shar? "oh! wow! that's – um. was that… good?" devnote: no part of her believes that could've been good. 

in response to a second lick: "oh, wow. are you okay? blink twice if you're ensorcelled and need help. no? it couldn't have been good enough to be worth it. …could it?" devnote: said in a tone which indicates almost enough curiosity to try it for herself. 

11. What do they say if the PC tries to force them to go up on stage with Dribbles the Clown? honestly, she's fucking delighted, she loves circuses and clowns. 

"really? me? are you sure you don't want to go up there instead? dribbles really knows his stuff, you'll be missing out! but okay, if you're sure!"

she's so excited that she's wiggling the whole time she's on stage. +5 approval at least. 

14. How does Tav react to the PC becoming a mind flayer?  Can they offer to become one themselves?  Does their reaction change if they’re romanced? the theological implications of the soul being destroyed in the process of becoming a mind flayer are… concerning – if the soul is gone, how can one ever be sure that the person isn't gone, and that the tadpole isn't just assuming the memories and characteristics of its former host?

but. the player character is her friend! (and maybe her partner, but either way – her friend!) and friendship is sacred! she's not going to let some tentacles get in the way of that!!! she's just sorry that you had to go through this, but you're so brave and kind for doing it – you've done the hard part, leave it to her to support you through this!

(a later bit of dialogue you might get is "hey, we match now – we're both purple! c:" )

as for herself – she'd want to take some time to think about it bc it is Not a decision that she'd be excited to make, but… honestly, what's lil' ol' her worth when compared to the entirety of the sword coast? so yeah, she'd volunteer herself, if need be. 

hey, don't feel too bad – she was only gonna make it maybe 40 if she's lucky, the way she keeps throwing herself into danger. hell, she's technically already died once already! and her soul was likely bound for the wall of the faithless when she died, so what's it matter if this destroys her soul now, right?

(this is not going to help her self-esteem issues AT ALL – people might distrust tieflings, but they REALLY distrust mindflayers – but She Will Do It)

((if you're romancing her and ask her to become a mindflayer and break up with her, she isn't even mad. she gets it. if you still want to be with her, she full on cries. says you don't have to do that, there's a better path for you out there; it's a whole thing.))

17. If romanced, how do they react to the Dark Urge trying to kill them in Act 2? i will be fully honest here: despite only doing like 10 minutes of a dark urge run so far, i get the impression that most companions… do not take the dark urge particularly seriously. even if the dark urge is upfront about everything and full on confesses "hey, i crave murder, i'm pretty sure i've done lots of murder before, and i want to do more murder."

amity would. she'd be tossing out suggestions on what to do and trying to get everyone on board – and if she couldn't sway anyone pre-alfira, she gets very serious about it post-alfira. everyone takes turns being on watch? they set up the alarm spell around the dark urge? …little bells on their ankles?

so i think in a sense she'd be prepared. she'd have to believe that the dark urge isn't in control of themselves in order to keep going after alfira, so therefore, she believes that whatever urge is driving them is both very powerful and likely to crop up again.

…unfortunately, amity Needs Sleep. she functions poorly on less than optimal sleep, and once she IS asleep, it's very difficult to wake her up and she gets combative if you try. if the dark urge tries to wake her up to warn her, they need to make a dex save to avoid either a fire bolt or a stray fist thrown their way. (it's okay if they fail tho, her aim isn't great when she's sleepy and she only has 9 strength.) 

dark urge has gotta get thru her grumpy-at-being-woken up phase before she's even close to coherent enough to understand what's going on, but when they do – she's ready. as ready as you can be for something like that, anyway. 

"you – now? shit. okay, we can handle this, we can – hand me my bag, i've got materials for a warding spell in there. you good long enough to find somewhere private, or does it need to be now-now? –shit, clearly it's now-now, okay–"

dark urge wakes up and she's all smiles. "hello, dear heart! you went down pretty quick, had me worried! slipped a pillow under your head, but your noggin might still be sore in the morning sorry. oh, not up for a chat? that's alright! i'm here anyway! :)"

i think some of her encouragement would be drawing on gleeful spite –like "hey, think about how pissed off this urge is gonna be that you've managed to fight it so far – i bet it's livid, haha. and look at you, you're managing it anyway! i knew you could do it; you're doing so well!"

and then she sits at the ready, telling silly stories of ways she's fucked up on adventures or of neat things she's seen until the dark urge is able to sleep

she's lightly dozing when they wake up but she's mostly sitting up – it's clear she's tried to stay up and keep watch all night. 

as she dismisses the wards, she throws some suggestions at them – consistent alarm spells around their cot at night? her knot-tying is pretty good, they could rely on that each night if spells don't seem like enough? well – no, that's not how she meant if, but if that's how you take it, she's not necessarily opposed to… wait, we're discussing important business here, save that for later!

and she passes them something from her bag and it's a sending stone. "annnnnd if you feel like there's something you need to tell me but you can't say it out loud for whatever reason, or if I'm not there, though honestly how often does that happen – well! this'll give you a direct line to me, even without the tadpoles :)"

sending stones as a gesture of love yet again (also she never travels anywhere without at least one set of sending stones on her. she has learned how valuable they can be)

Romance 1. Is your Tav a romanceable character?  Are there any specific requirements to romancing them? i think she would be, but it would be sloooooow going. so slow that players aren't always certain that they're correctly triggering it at all, damn it, where'd that guide go?

you've got to get her to be genuinely vulnerable with you, which is. difficult! she has self-esteem issues. and self-image issues. and she has issues with touch – simultaneously touch-starved and touch-repulsed (thanks a lot, hag curse, for fucking up the progress she'd made on that). she wants to be with someone, but oh, gods, is that frightening.

you have to tread carefully with her. lay it on too thick, and she thinks you're fucking with her (or just being nice, but either way, she believes 0% of it). gotta build a LOT of trust first. honestly, her friendship path and her romance path would be absolutely identical for at least the first act. sleeping with someone at the party wouldn't lock you out of that – you go have your fun! she's going to creep away soon for some air. it's lovely that everyone is having fun, but it is a bit overwhelming. but no, don't worry about her! …no really, don't worry about her, haha, she's definitely not going to slip away while you're not looking because she's having another bout of insecurity. 

you just have to talk to her a lot, and not be too mean – it doesn't even put an end to things if you're a little mean, bc hey, that can be kind of funny. but, y'know. don't shut her down. she warms up to you fast on a surface level, but you have to give her time to actually open up and not be so skittish. 

3. Are they a polyamorous or a monogamous option? she'd happily agree to either, honestly! she has Experienced Love for more than one person at once, before, but she feels no pressing need to seek that out for herself; as for the player character, i think she'd want a bit of reassurance that anything else they seek isn't bc of dissatisfaction with her, but then she's open to it, whether or not she herself is involved!

bonus; a field banter with a character of your choice  post-waukeen's rest – 

amity: wyll! wyll ravengard! wyll: that is what I've been called a time or two, yes. why? amity: i can't believe i didn't recognize you before! you've changed some, sure, but even still! wyll: had we met before? i'm sure i would have remembered you. amity: not exactly! more like… occupied the same circles? i was too shy to go to all those fancy parties as myself; once we'd made it past the entryways, i usually hid away, or disguised myself with a spell, if i couldn't find anywhere secluded. wyll: ah, a shame – i think we would've gotten along famously, you and i. amity: i'd like to think so! anyway, i got myself… banned from all of those events after some particularly unwelcome hijinks, so it only lasted a little while.  wyll: banned? there was a time when little wyll would have been dying to know how to do the same; i never could manage it. always dragged along to every meeting and soiree father had to attend. what exactly did you do? amity: ah – a lady doesn't kiss and tell! they may consider me too uncouth and unkempt to be much of a lady, but even i know that! wyll: now i must know.

and later – 

wyll: potions of fire breath in lady edmonton’s mead.  amity: uh-uh. wyll: frogs in the central fountain.   amity: not me.  wyll: otto's irresistible dance on the younger lord laurier? amity: gods, i wish, he was always such a prick – but no.  wyll: it was quite funny to see him flop about. let's see… replacing lady belmont's prized panther with a displacer beast? amity: did someone do that? really? i missed that one. and i'm pleased you think i would have been able to manage that.  wyll: stealing the left shoes of all attendees while they say for a feast? amity: no – well. i don't think so, anyway? sounds like something i would've done. so maybe. possibly. probably? but that's not what did me in.  wyll: hmm… [snaps fingers] the chandelier! amity: yes, you've got it! wyll: ha, i knew i would, eventually. amity: ...i do feel bad about that one, honestly, i really thought it was going to hold up against a few swings.  wyll: from what i'd heard, it did not.  amity: it did not.

[toffee-hammer]

It’s been a fair while but I finally got around to the final part in my Eden questline playthrough. A bit longer than usual but I wanted to keep it all to one post.

Okay, I got my ass thoroughly handed to me but I managed to beat Mitron’s final form. Cool boss fight but wow is it a nightmare if you didn’t look up any of the mechanics first. Gonna be an expensive visit to my armour repair guy tonight. Anyway, looks like defeating Eden's Promise (probably one of the game’s weirder boss designs. Thanks Nomura) seems to have dropped Gaia straight into the void. That’s my bad.

Oh, turns out Mitron is here too. Looks like his body is coming apart like Emet-Selch’s did after our fight so I’m guessing that won’t be the case for much longer. Unlike Emet though, I’m not too broken up about it this time. Dude couldn’t take “no” for an answer right up until the end.

You’re kidding me. His real name was Artemis? Way to waste a good name on a goober you guys.

So Mitron said his piece and poofed but I guess that means Gaia is stuck in the void now? She tried walking a random direction for a while but got tired and decided to lay down on the floor. Relatable.

I guess I didn’t do the “protect Gaia’s memories” boss fight mechanic very well because she's still having trouble remembering things. The necklace she made for Ryne is doing a thing though.

Oh shit! Speak of the devil and she shall slice open a dimensional gateway with her father figure’s old gunblade!

Also, wow. I know I said it before but Gaia has it real bad.

Oh my god. So they literally did the FFVIII scene with Squall and Rinoa but with Gaia and Ryne instead. One of the most romantic scenes in the entire Final Fantasy series and they brought it back with the gigantic pride crystal right there in the shot. When people told me this was the gayest storyline in the game I kinda thought they were messing with me but here we are.

And as if that wasn’t enough Gaia hits Ryne with the same line her past self used on her ex. People who say these two are definitely just friends really are talking out of their asses aren’t they.

Seriously, I genuinely thought Ryne was gonna go for it for a second here. 

Varley’s just like “well, maybe next time”.

This has been such a productive series of daytrips you guys. Just a good time all round. Did you two know I duelled the embodiment of despair in an impossible space at the edge of the universe recently? Nevermind, this is your thing.

God, she’s so fucking precious. Gaia you’d best protect that smile with your life while I’m gone.

So yeah, with that I’ve finished every raid storyline in the game so far. I’m glad I saved this one until last because it’s definitely my favourite. Alexander was fun too but Eden takes the top spot for me. I was glad they gave Ryne a little more to do after the main Shadowbringers story was over and Gaia is a great new character. I’m really hoping these two turn up again when the MSQ swings back around to the First again.

Wishlist for Ryne the next time we see her:

1) Dating Gaia

2) Gunbreaker 

3) Somehow retained the ability to transform into Shiva like Zenos did with Shinryu but she’s able to control it

Feel free to pick two or more Squeenix.

[kisilinramblings]

Nathalie

I often see posts saying Nathalie is being used by Gabriel. Mostly, what bugs me with this interpretation is that it deprives her from her agenda. She is a victim of her own feelings and her own decisions, yes, but she is a character who accepts the consequences of her actions. Whereas Gabriel is a character who ignores the consequences and keep pushing, especially if his actions gives him results. 

I mean, from almost two whole seasons, Nathalie was the assistant in charge of managing everyone’s schedule and making arrangements. Nathalie backed Gabriel up, managing his everyday obligations while he was off attempting to get LB and CN’s Miraculous. And she was taking orders from him as he was her employer, the authority figure of the household. But there were moments where we did see her handling things and reason with Gabriel. Like how she convinced Gabriel to let Adrien go to school (probably by informing him of the advantages of having Adrien out of the house during the day while also knowing where he was, but since that happened off-screen we will probably never know). And in the Special Christmas, she reminds Gabriel about his obligations as a parent. 

During Collector, we realized she knew of Gabriel’s secret the whole time. We first got the hint with the book.

Gabriel (to Nathalie) : You know where this goes.

Then at the end, as she watches Gabriel enters his lair.

She gives off excuses, justifying his absences, so no one suspects anything. She had his back the whole time. In a webepisode, we learned Nathalie and Gabriel actually knew each other for a long time. She even helped him find the two Miraculous. She was more than just an employee. She was a trusted ally. And as she said during Stormy Weather 2, she grew attached to the Agreste family. For her, it was just a job and it became something much more important to her, enough to not give up, to not abandon Gabriel, Emilie and Adrien. She could have decided it was enough and to leave, but she doesn’t. She deals with the consequences. She solves problems. She acts as a mediator between the father and the son. She is too deep in, too involved. To me, it feels like she cannot leave them otherwise she would regret it as if she hasn’t done enough for Gabriel, for Adrien, for the Agreste family. 

After Queen Wasp, after Gabriel renounced to give up and continue his quest, something in Nathalie’s changed as well. 

Emilie will always come first. Nathalie realized this. 

And we find out during Catalyst that she has decided to step in. She has decided to help Gabriel even more, to be part of his plan and enable even more HM’s power. If she cannot have Gabriel’s love, at least, she will help him in order to make him happy. (Which remind me of a certain boy in Frozer). 

(Btw, I love how this scene is filmed like a wedding ceremony).

I need to remind everyone than before that very moment, Gabriel/HM asked Nathalie twice if she truly wanted to do this. Meaning Nathalie gave her consent and was never forced into this. Like, we have seen Gabriel manipulate the situation to his advantage before. Heck, we have seen the orchestration he has put behind Lila’s akumatization in the very same episode, exploiting her hate against Ladybug to turn it to his advantage. But with Nathalie? He actually shows concerns and double-check things with her. He is not trying to convince her, but he doesn’t dissuade her either. 

Anyway, unlike the akumatized victims to this point (except Collector), Nathalie chose this herself. She is ready to do whatever it takes so Gabriel succeeds. And the staging illustrates their partnership. Because, as Catalyst and later as Mayura, Nathalie becomes HM’s partner in crime. For the better and for the worse. Seriously, have fun spotting how HM and Mayura are staged during S3.

Like, let’s take this scene from Reflekdoll.

The camera pans to reveal Nathalie behind Hawkmoth. She is in the far back of the room and advances to place herself next to HM. In other words, she doesn’t stay behind or hidden anymore, she instead steps in to stand by HM’s side. Becoming HM’s equal instead of his subordinate. So, HM is asking her for her help and she accepts willingly to use a damaged Miraculous. She again isn’t forced to do this, she chose to do this. And her transformation reflects that. 

As we know the transformation sequences are highly symbolic. The sequence are adapted for each character, revealing a part of themselves. 

There are three key moments in Mayura’s transformation : when she takes her glasses off, when she puts her foot down and when she hides half of her face with her fan. 

First, when she takes her glasses off. Glasses correct vision. So, someone who needs glasses see things less clearly without them. There can also be a nod to Clark Kent, who also takes off his glasses to become Superman. But as far as I know, he never throws away his glasses like Nathalie does. It is as if Nathalie is taking off her assistant persona we know her for and is throwing it out the window. And she also blinds herself to her objective, not seeing anything else. She is willing to do everything to help Gabriel, no matter the toll on her body for using a broken Miraculous.

Interestingly enough, the glasses comes back into play during the last scene between Gabriel and Nathalie at the end of Ladybug. 

As Gabriel is scolding Nathalie, she coughs and her glasses fall off on the ground, reminding Gabriel she is in this state because of the help she provides to him as Mayura to begin with. Gabriel stays silent one moment before he puts himself to Nathalie’s level, talking to her like his equal, not like to a subordinate like he started to do so at the beginning of the scene. Gabriel then puts his hand on Nathalie’s arm -- making contact, reaching her -- picks up her glasses on the floor and puts them back on Nathalie as he praises her and tells her: “You don’t need a Miraculous to help me”.

He is basically asking Nathalie to sit down on being Mayura (or at least, to not endanger herself like that without his approbation) and to simply continue help him out as Nathalie instead. 

Alright, end of the parathesis. All of that to say that when Nathalie doesn’t have her glasses on, it symbolizes her resolve to be Mayura. And this is supported by the next key element of her transformation sequence.

Nathalie both symbolically and litteraly put her foot down to activate the apparition of her costume. Not only does she has a resolve to help, she is asserting herself in the process.

And finally, toward the end of her transformation, she hides half of her face with her fan.

Tbh, that last bit could be up to interpretation. But in the context of Reflekdoll (because this should have been the initial episode Mayura’s transformation would have been revealed). there is an another meaning added to the whole sequence. After all, Reflekdoll’s theme revolves around being in someone’s shoes. And since we know Emilie have been using the Peacock Miraculous long before Nathalie, the whole transformation sequence gets an added meaning that Nathalie is trying to substitute Emilie in a way, but since she is not like the previous Peacock Holder, she cannot completely fulfill that role. 

The shot itself reminds me someone putting up a façade. Nathalie / Mayura is only showing a brave and content face, while also hiding the other half of the situation, hiding the downside of becoming Mayura, hiding her pain.

Anyway, throughout S3, Nathalie did grow as an equal to Gabriel and while, yes, Gabriel does lead, it doesn’t mean Nathalie is helpless. She chooses this path while being aware of the consequences. She knew using a broken Miraculous was dangerous, but she also was ready to do it in order to help Gabriel, and while yes, he didn’t dissuade her much, he didn’t pushed her or manipulated to use a broken Miraculous either. 

[boymeetsweevil]

Call me maybe

Grouping: Reader x Namjoon

Word Count: ~6.59k

Warnings/Themes: Club meet-cute AU, 1% angst +99% suggestive fluff, (legal!) alcohol consumption, language, flirting anxiety(?)

Summary: It all started with a stupid drinking game...

A/N: this is the One Direction wattpad-style fanfic that's been haunting me for so long. beware of that and the fact that this is unedited hahaha...

“You know the rules, girls. Whoever wins this round of rock-paper-scissors is It.”

You and your three friends, warm and bubbly from 2 rounds of shots at this point in the evening, assume your battle stances and stick your hands into the center of your table. Four hands make a square over the scattered layer of empty decorative shot glasses from the bar in the club.

There’s an air of electric excitement that comes with this game, lovingly nicknamed Hunter-Gathering. Whoever is It gets a target and has to pursue that target in hopes of bringing ‘home’ free drinks for everyone the rest of the night. But no matter how attractive the target is, you can't ever bring them home.

“Wait, wait!” Lia chimes in. “I can’t be It this time. I did it twice already and my ass still hurts from the last time.”

Dani nods seriously. “Fair enough. That means the odds are upped for the rest of you.”

“So, we’re just gonna ignore that ass thing,” another friend, Alexa, looks around the table with confused eyes.

“Do you actually want me to give you the details?” Lia smiles slowly at her from across the table.

Alexa’s face brightens with her own smile, worry evaporated. “You know what? I don’t! Never mind.”

The game begins and somehow you find yourself the lone rock amongst two pairs of scissors. Alexa and Dani laugh with relief because they don’t have to put in any work tonight. You roll your eyes to the heavens and silently question your karma.

“Are you ready to pick your target?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Nope!” Dani grins.

She steps forward and grabs a clean face mask out of her clutch bag and wraps it around your eyes, careful not to muss your makeup or hair. Three pairs of hands rest on your shoulders and you let them spin you lightly around a few times. Not enough to get you dizzy but just enough to make sure you don’t know what direction you’re facing anymore.

“Alright,” Dani’s voice sounds out over the music of the club. “Take your pick!”

You stick your hand out blindly and someone unties the makeshift blindfold. Everyone follows the line your hand makes all the way to a tall figure standing by the side of the bar.

He’s probably the most handsome man any of you have seen in a while. There's an intimidating aura emanating from him. You figure it's the understated all-black outfit complete with the heinously expensive watch he's wearing and the sheer height of him as he towers over people near him at the bar.

“Oh my god,” Dani whispers as you all take in the stranger’s face.

“We can finally get top shelf vodka,” Alexa pretends to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.

“Not bad,” Lia hums in appreciation.

“Okay, why is everyone acting like I bagged him already?” Your voice grows high with nerves. “I'm pretty sure I have, like, a 2% chance of interesting him."

“What are you so worried about?” Dani crosses her arms at you. “Just do whatever you did to get those history nerds to help you out that one time."

"This is not the same thing. Those guys parted their hair 90/10 unironically and thought Diva Cups are for when you don't want to hold your pee when you stand in line for roller coasters."

"You're kidding," Lia gasps. You wish you were.

"Well, just pretend he's one of them anyway." Dani suggests, "Every guy is the same."

You can't argue with that logic.

“I mean, I can try flirting with him, but he’s probably so used to people throwing themselves at him. I don’t think anything I do would, like, make a dent, you know?”

“Babe, no. No—listen to me, okay?” Alexa takes you by the shoulders and forces you around so you can see how serious she is.

“Tonight is the last free night of vacation. After tonight, we have less than a day to get over our hangovers, pack up the Airbnb, and then catch our 6am flight back home to start the spring term. Our last night of freedom lies in your hands.”

“But, what if—”

“No ‘but’s. Do you see yourself? Do you see your skin in this fresh white two piece? Have you seen how your tits look in this off the shoulder top? That poor man doesn’t stand a chance!”

Lia murmurs her agreement in the background and Dani mentions something about fearing for the guy's soul. You think about the freakishly good pictures you all took in the stylish club bathroom when you first arrived.

“I see your point.”

You turn back toward the bar to review your target. He sips from a dark green bottle as he looks around at the people on the dance floor between your table and the bar. As he continues to scan the room, he locks eyes with you. You hold his gaze even though your instincts are screaming at you to duck for cover. Surprisingly, he gives a small smile and raises his bottle in salute.

"See, you got the hardest part down already. Just fake the rest until you make it."

You chance a look back in his direction only to catch him staring in the direction of the table. When he catches your gaze again, he whips his head away, cheeks tinging pink under the soft yellow lighting at the bar.

Alexa cackles and starts detailing all the drinks she wants made with the top shelf vodka. Lia and Dani discuss leaving early to go back and clean up the apartment so it’s clean in case you break the rules and bring this guy back for the night.

“Uh, aren’t you guys moving a little fast?”

“Aren’t you moving a little slow,” Alexa counters.

“Hold on, Lex.” Dani turns to you. “You know you don’t actually have to do this if you don’t want to, right? Hunter-Gathering is just a game, there's no pressure.”

For all their poking and teasing, you're reminded right then and there that your friends would never put you in a situation where they thought you were actually at any risk. The weight you felt on your shoulders lightens somewhat.

“No, no, I definitely still want to play, I just don’t want you guys to get your hopes up.”

“I believe in you.”

Lia bumps shoulders with you quietly. She’s not the most affectionate, so you know she really means it.

“I’ll do my best.”

You let them tweak you a little bit, fixing stray hairs and wiping away smeared lip gloss and hiking up your skirt, giving you their drink orders, before you grab your purse and phone and push in your stool.

When you finally make it to the bar, he’s in the same spot as you first found him in. He spots you once you get close enough and naturally makes room for you. You set your bag on the bar countertop before hopping up on the empty stool immediately in front of him. The movement causes your skirt to ride up even more and you’re glad you only let Lia hike it up one inch instead of three.

Dani's advice about treating this guy like any other scrub from school reverbs in the back of your head right as the nerves start to set in. With the guys in your art history class, your grade was on the line. There was no room for hesitation when you could barely draw a stick figure, much less write an essay analyzing what an old painting style could tell you about the dairy economy in a certain town like some of your classmates were doing. It was because you were desperate that you were suddenly able to transform into a femme fatale. It also helped that these guys quivered at any interaction with an adult woman.

Tonight's drinks are on the line, you tell yourself. As best you can, you try to trick yourself into entering the same mindset you were in when you would lay on the charm extra thick for the art history guys.

You let the corner of your mouth lift up in a coy smile while you survey the bar. The bartender is moving back and forth quickly to handle the high demand. A second later the girl next to you leaves her spot with a tray of 8 bright pink drinks, practically glowing in the dark. You wonder briefly if you should try to get a round of those for the table.

“—one of those before?”

His voice is deep and pleasant. When you give him a look over your shoulder, you have to suppress a gasp. Up close he's even more handsome. You really have your work cut out for you.

“What?"

"That neon pink drink," he nods back in the direction of the girl who'd taken the cotton candy pink drinks with her. "I was wondering if you'd tried them before."

“No, I haven’t,” you smile, letting your lips part slowly. His eyes dart from your painted eyes to the colored stretch of your mouth and then quickly back up. “Have you?”

“No. But I like to try new things.”

You purse your lips as if in thought, something you've seen other girls do while flirting with guys at school. “You must be pretty unpredictable, then.”

“Huh? Well, I wouldn’t say that.” He stammers a bit and nearly drops his beer bottle trying and failing to put it down. All the intimidation you felt coming from him earlier seems to have disappeared.

“I was just kidding.”

Like it has a mind of its own, your hand reaches out to rest on his arm reassuringly while you continue to laugh at him. His features clear up then and a relieved smile blooms on his face, bringing out an adorable dimple with it.

“You’re teasing me,” he realizes with a good natured huff and steps into your touch.

“You seem kinda fun to tease.” You let your hand linger a little longer before finally pulling it back.

“It’s kinda fun. You're pretty good at it.”

Oddly enough, this isn't as difficult for you as you thought it was going to be. In fact, you find yourself naturally tilting your head and fixing him with an intrigued look from under your lashes. He takes the opportunity to look you over as well, a small smile on his lips.

The personal attention does make you a little nervous despite the fact that it’s positive. So you dig in your purse to avoid looking directly at him for too long and to give your hands something to do. You brush up against a tube of lip gloss, pull it out, and reapply some to your lips.

You look back at him when you realize he’s grown quiet, only to find him following the movements of the gloss brush tracing the curve of your lips, cheeks dusted pink and eyes half-closed like he's in some sort of trance.

Experimentally you press your lips together and then purse them to make sure the gloss is distributed evenly. The man doesn't blink once. Suddenly, all his expensive apparel and large stature aren’t so intimidating.

"Is there something on my face," you smirk.

He slow blinks down at your mouth twice before realizing you're speaking again. His eyes grow wide and he raises a ringed hand to rub at the back of his neck. The movement rustles the hair covering his ears, revealing their pink tips. Cute.

"Just looking."

You laugh a little at him again. He marvels at the way the club lighting dances around in your glossy smile.

"So, how come I've never seen you here before?"

"Well...it's the first time me and my friends have come here."

"I see." He pivots to face you and leans his closest elbow on the counter of the bar. "Are you guys new to the area?"

"You could say that, yeah."

He raises an eyebrow when you don’t elaborate. Without looking away, he raises his hand to signal to the bartender that he wants another drink. When the bartender runs right over, you realize this guy actually might be a big deal. Silently you pull your card out of your wallet as the bartender makes their way over. You figure you’ll have to spend some money before you can really ask someone like him to buy drinks for your table.

"What'll it be,” the bartender asks.

"Two of those pink drinks please," he says and before you can place any order the bartender zooms away.

While the bartender starts preparing the drinks, you turn toward him.

"Who said I wanted the pink drink?"

He grins down at you, a dimple now popping up in each cheek. "Who said it's for you?"

"I'm pretty sure it's for me."

"And what makes you so sure?" He takes a step closer to you.

"Just a hunch," you hum before crossing your legs.

The white fabric of your skirt hikes up your thighs again with the movement. You smooth your palms over the soft material.

"Nice skirt."

"Yeah? You like it?"

"I like it," he admits quietly.

"And the top?" You gesture toward the pair of straps on the matching tube top, manicured nails gliding over your décolletage. He wets his lips.

"The top too."

He reaches out one large hand to one of the straps that have fallen over your shoulder. The drag of his fingers against your bare arm as he fixes it makes you shiver. You lament the loss of contact when pulls his hand back.

The bartender arrives with your drinks then, startling the both of you out of the little staring competition that had spontaneously started. The pink drink seems to glow from within, topped with whipped cream and full of little round ice cubes made from some sort of darker rose syrup floating in the liquid like lava in a lava lamp. The color barely prepares you for the thick sweetness that floods your mouth on the first sip.

"Oh, that's kinda..."

He huffs a laugh around his own first swallow and nods in agreement.

"Not what you wanted?"

"It's just really sweet. You like it?”

He shrugs. “It’s alright. But—"

The way he cuts himself off has you confused for a moment before he's reaching towards you cautiously. You're not too sure what's going on until you feel the pad of his thumb swipe over the corner of your lips carrying away some of the whipped topping from the drink. Your eyes widen when instead of wiping the cream on one of the cocktail napkins available on the counter he brings his thumb to his own lips. In a fraction of a second the cream is gone, but you're left feeling a rush of fluttering warmth on the side of your mouth and in the center of your chest.

"You think your friends would like these?” He slides his drink to the side so he can lean on his elbow and turn to you again. Now's your chance.

“Um, I don’t think this is really their style.”

“What is their style?”

You rattle off their drinks of choice, making sure to mention their favorite brands with a sigh. Of course, whenever you play this game, the brands can change depending on the budget of whoever’s buying. This time, you make sure to name drop as much as possible, per Alexa's request.

“Sounds like your friends really know what they like.”

“Yeah, they have really…unique tastes.” You falter a little under his amused stare. “But we don’t always drink that way. I mean, not every bar even carries all those to begin with.”

“That’s true.” He nods. “This bar has every single of them, though. Pretty lucky, huh?”

“Yep,” you chirp. You’re not sure if you’re in trouble or not because he’s still smiling. He seems to be onto the game, but doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Well, it would be a shame not to welcome you all to the city. Get whatever you want. My treat.”

“Are you sure?”

You place your hand on his arm again and squeeze for good measure. You don’t miss the way his large bicep flexes under your touch. After a beat, he brings his hand up to grasp yours and holds it while signaling to the bartender again. You give him a blindingly bright smile and he strokes his thumb over your knuckles.

He asks the bartender to ‘take care’ of your table tonight on him, and you realize then that you’ve won the game. The victory isn't nearly as sweet as the pink drinks from earlier. The rules prohibit you from bringing him home or going over to his place. And even if it wasn't prohibited, your vacation is basically over.

“Where are you and your friends from?

You take his hand between yours and play with some of the rings on his fingers. They’re beautiful together in an eclectic way and you wonder if someone chose them for him.

“It’s a kind of small city, not like this one. It’s really just our university and then a few surrounding towns.”

“What made you guys move here then?"

"Oh, Right." You feel guilty. "Me and my friends are just here for vacation."

He blinks at you but takes the news in stride. "Well, if you want—I know the city pretty well since I have a place here—maybe I can give you a tour of the town later this week."

"I'd love that, I really would. But we're actually leaving tomorrow."

"For real?” His eyes grow wide and he looks down at your linked hands before looking over your face. You're shocked to see his features fall.

"Yeah, it sucks."

“Damn,” he smiles bittersweet at the floor. “I wish we’d bumped into each other sooner.”

“I absolutely agree," the sound of Alexa's voice rings loud in your ear.

“Uh, hello. Did you need me for something?" Your voice is high and tight as you fix her with an accusatory stare. You're not 100% positive, but it seemed like you and he were having a moment.

"No, babe, I just wanted to come over and show you my beautiful drink. I wanted to come show my gratitude to you both for making sure we have a good last night. The girls will appreciate that. Thank you, kind sir."

“Name’s Namjoon. And no need to thank me,” he smiles at the exchange between you two and sticks out his hand. Alexa daintily lays her hand in his and he lets out an incredulous laugh before playing along and raising it to his lips.

"What a gentleman," she coos before pinching lightly at the skin of your exposed back. It's a clear message just for you, telling you that there's about to be a change in plans. "What were you guys discussing?"

"I was actually about to offer up our booth. There's more than enough room for your table if you wanted to move. Me and my team—friends definitely wouldn't mind the company."

“You don’t have to do that!” You pipe up, suddenly shy. But it's quickly dashed away as Alexa pulls out her phone and opens up the groupchat.

"Let me just ask our friends if they’d like that."

You already know the answer, so you sigh quietly and gather up your card, phone, and purse. You can’t say you won’t miss the privacy from when it was just you and Namjoon, but you’re glad to be with your friends again as well.

The move from your little table to the VIP booth is lightning fast. By the time you get your own drink, Lia and Dani are already clutching their things and vibrating with excitement near the ropes leading to the VIP booth. A few of Namjoon’s friends are chatting with them from the other side of the ropes.

Once your group trickles in, you don't miss how they all arrange themselves in the booth so you're forced to sit on the end next to Namjoon with barely any space. The only options are to let one of your legs hang off the edge of the booth the whole time or sit practically half in his lap. Alexa winks at you over the first sip of her next very expensive drink.

Namjoon's friends are occupied by your friends re-telling some of the more exciting parts of the beginning of your vacation. Some story about how 'someone' lost their top while trying to jet ski. You send a weak glare to Lia as she tries to get them to guess just whose top it was. That's what you get for experimenting with spaghetti strings, you suppose.

"Do you guys like to dance," one of his friends says after a while of vibing to the music once the chatter cools down. Hoseok, you think his name was.

"Yes, definitely." Dani remarks while re-applying lip gloss. "You know who's a great dancer?"

"Who?" Hoseok looks around excitedly.

"She's gonna say me," you groan. "Which is not even true but let’s just all move down there already, no more 20 questions."

"Just one more," she pouts. "Namjoon, do you like to dance?"

He looks down at you once he's also out the booth, that little amused smile back on his lips.

"Well, it's not really part of my day job, but I don't mind it too much."

"What's your day job," you blurt out.

"I'm a...musician."

"A musician!" Alexa rushes over to you to link arms. "Did you hear that? Namjoon’s a musician."

"I don't recognize you," Lia says and Hoseok and another one of his friends burst into quiet laughter behind her.

"You definitely won't find Joon’s pics anywhere, that's for sure," one of his friends says. The rest of them dissolve into another fit of giggles.

The club lights hide the muted pink tinge his cheeks take on, and Namjoon leads the way to the dance-floor with a chagrined roll of his eyes.

"You think he's really a musician?” You whisper to Alexa and Lia. Dani is somewhere up ahead, already dancing.

"Maybe technically. Going off the way his friends keep laughing, he's probably, like, a failed SoundCloud rapper or something."

"No failed SoundCloud rapper wears Gucci like that," Lia motions with her chin to some piece of Namjoon’s outfit.

"That's true," you hum.

"Rich parents," Alexa says simply.

You and Lia consider it and then nod.

As you settle on the dance floor, you feel the rest of your nerves drift away. Lia comes over to take a selfie with you, and the two of you flirt with the camera until she's satisfied with the photos you've taken. She grabs your hand and makes a show of spinning you around and you figure that this is how the night will go before you stumble out around 2 or 3am and drunk pack for the flight home the next morning. You let her lead you back, further into the crowd before you bump into someone.

Namjoon's large hand comes to stabilize you at your waist and Lia acts like nothing happened before dancing away, phone light illuminating her sneaky smile.

"You good?" Namjoon's voice is soft in your ear.

"Y-yeah."

"You wanna dance, or should I let you go?"

Your friends shamelessly all look at the way he curves himself around you, all with their thumbs up in encouragement. You're reminded of the way you did the same a few nights prior when Dani was getting hit on by some cute guy at a different club.

At that time it felt fun hyping her up and watching her make a move, seeing how enamored this random guy was with your friend. Of course he is, you thought at the time, she's amazing. And you remember that this is probably what's driving them tonight as well with you and Namjoon.

You chance a look at him and realize that he's come to rest his cheek lightly near your temple, a soft look in his gaze as he awaits your answer.

"Sure, let's dance."

Namjoon was telling the truth when he said he wasn't all that into dancing. But he put in enough work to be able to follow you and meet you halfway while you were grinding on him to the music.

Even when you shyly stepped away after the first few dances to return to your squealing friends, you loosened up over time with more music and drinks and found yourself naturally ending up on him again. The first few songs turned into more and more and soon you were face-to-face, with his thigh wedged between yours and a heavy palm on your lower back guiding you to the beat.

You're not sure when you decided to abandon your friends and his, but at some point you did return to the booth under the guise of checking your phones. And you did check your phone first. But soon he was crowding you toward the wall by the booth and leaving you with no air of your own.

"You're really leaving tomorrow," he sighed into a bruise he was trying to leave near the hollow of your throat. "Or did you just say that because I was some creep at a bar."

"I never thought you were a creep."

He looks down at you with disbelief before getting distracted by your kiss-swollen lips.

"I mean it. I'm just a little shy sometimes."

"What do you have to be shy about when you look like this, huh?"

"Stop," you laugh lightly and look away from him.

He'd made a comment earlier about how much he liked the pristine white two piece you wore, but you'd been inching his hand up your skirt then. Now, one of his thumbs rubs an idle pattern just below the curve of your breast.

"No, but seriously. Are you actually leaving tomorrow?"

"Yeah. The new term starts for us all in a few days."

"So, leave in a few days," Namjoon whines.

"That's not enough time to get ready for the term."

"But I'll be so alone without you."

He gives you an exaggerated pout that splits into a real smile when you snort at his stupid expression. He pulls you to him just a smidgen tighter then.

"Does this usually work with other girls?"

"I don't know. Never tried it with other girls," he frowns a little at you.

"Sure."

"You know me and the team almost went to Club BigHit last Saturday?"

"Oh, really? That's kinda funny." You try to imagine what might have happened if he'd come to the same club you went to earlier.

"Yeah," Namjoon's voice grows quiet. "If I hadn't gotten sick then we would have met last week."

"Yeah, maybe."

"You sure you can't miss a few days of the term?"

"Yes, I'm sure." You let out an exasperated laugh. "You can't really be this upset that an actual stranger is just passing through your life."

"No, I know. I just—," he lets his head fall forward until he's touching his forehead to yours. "It was like something clicked when I saw you. I feel like I need more time with you."

"Oh," your voice comes out a little breathier than you expected.

The same look that had flashed across his face when you first came up to him finally gets to rest on his features. You want to let him down gently because you really can't play catch up during the first week of school.

"Tell you what. I can't miss the beginning of the term but if you make a song with my name in it and it gets...say, 50,000 listens, I'll buy a ticket that same day and come meet you. Wherever you are."

He pins you with a look then, inquisitive and dark. His eyes scan your open expression for something, before whatever he finds passes the test. He stands up tall.

"And it just needs to have 50,000 listens?"

In your mind you were thinking it would be too lofty for a failed SoundCloud rapper, but something in his tone sounds like he's rising to the challenge and it makes you nervous. You spent a lot on this vacation, you can't afford to actually fly out so soon if he somehow managed to get the listens and call your bluff. Besides, targets are off limits.

"Um, actually make that 150,000. And it has to have my area code in it too." You rattle off the three digits to him and he quickly types your conditions into the notes app on his phone.

"Is that it?"

"That's it, I guess."

"Deal."

Namjoon pockets his phone and leans back into your space. Any worries you had clawing to the forefront of your mind vanish when he presses soft lips to yours once more.

A month passes.

You don't end up having a one-night-stand with Namjoon because it wouldn't be fair to your friends when they'd clicked with a target but didn't take them home. That and because Dani got sick on the dance floor from mixing strawberry daiquiri with one too many pink drinks. But you do pass on your full number after he very nearly begs you to give it to him while packing into a cab.

And then he never used it.

It's not that you were expecting much, but when a month passes with not so much as word from him, you figure he forgot about you and your little bet.

Then 2 months pass.

Even though you know that you only spent a fraction of a day with him, you can't help thinking about Namjoon. Namjoon and his pretty eyes and pretty words that made you think there was some sort of connection there. You realize after the first two weeks back that you don't have his number but by the time 2 months pass, you realize that was definitely on purpose.

4 months pass.

You're over it, swamped with end of term work like finals and grading and putting in hours at work. But every time your friends suggest a little fun and hooking you up with someone, every time someone asked for your number at a coffee shop, you said no. Because you're over it and you're busy and not at all disappointed for how hard you fell for the lies some failed SoundCloud rapper fed you on a vacation one time.

19 weeks pass.

You're all in Lia's apartment, basking in the first few days of the end of classes even if it means finals are a few days later. Alexa is playing her favorite playlist on the speakers and you're taking a break to get some coffee going in the small kitchenette.

While the coffee machine starts up you wander back to the main room. Alexa is leaning over to turn the music up, one of her favorite songs just now coming up.

"Who's this again," Dani pipes up from her spot on the couch. "It's that one guy's collab with the Bulletproof Girlscouts, right?"

"Yep," Alexa checks the song title before sighing. "This song is so old now."

"True, but it's my favorite one on the whole album."

"I guess it really has been two years since his last album, huh." Dani muses and then goes back to her practice problem set.

You try not to laugh at how cute Alexa looks sulking because her favorite artist hasn't put out any music in so long.

"Why don't you just play his new stuff," Lia says.

"He's on indefinite hiatus. This is as new as it gets."

Lia picks up her own phone, showing it to the group.

"He released a new single this morning."

"What!"

Alexa scrambles from her seat to grab her headphones and jam them into her phone. You all know how she gets about her music and let her have a moment to soak up the new song while you get up to check on the coffee.

It takes a few minutes to get cups out and put everything together since everyone has different tastes, so you're in the middle of pouring creamer when you hear a chorus of screams.

"Why are we screaming?"

You rush into the main room again only to be bombarded with music from the speaker, this time turned up as high as it can go. What must be the new song comes through the speaker, the bass vibrating on the ground as the speaker pumps.

"Okay, yes, new song. It's good but I don't get—"

"Just listen to the fucking bridge," Dani's voice comes out incredibly shrill as she cuts you off.

The beat surges for the bridge and suddenly the lyrics turn into the artist growling about some girl he met at the club with the prettiest little white outfit he'd ever seen. Saying something that sounds oddly like your name, although you figure that can't be right. But then the next verse has your name in it too, and the next one, and the next one.

Your feet take you to where Alexa's phone is plugged in and you pick up the phone to look at the song. It's indeed a song by her favorite artist, a prolific and mysterious rapper who's never shown his face and who'd been on hiatus from making music. The song title is simple, a small string of numbers that look suspiciously like your area code.

When you let out a tiny gasp, your friends let out more excited shrieks. You ignore them in favor of thumbing through the music app to the artist's page where the new single lies at the top of his discography. To the right of all his songs are the stream counts. Most of his older songs have a few dozen million or so. This brand new one sits at a modest 4 million, but the numbers trickle up as the app updates them in real time.

"What the hell?"

"I know!" Alexa cries, tears shining in her eyes. "I can't believe we sat in a VIP booth with him and I didn't even recognize his stupid voice!"

"What are you gonna do," Dani smiles widely at your stunned face. "Are you gonna call him?"

"I don't have his number," you say simply. Your voice comes out monotone with shock.

"You didn't get his number?" Alexa starts crying for real.

"People are blowing my phone up about this," Lia says once the song ends and begins again on a loop. "You might want to turn off your phone. It's just a matter of time until people start snooping around."

"Right."

You grab your phone from your pocket. On instinct you scan through your socials one last time before turning it off. There's a startling number of texts, calls, emails, and notifications on your social media apps. Curiosity gets the best of you and you open up one of them only to find your name trending as the top hashtag. Clicking on it brings up a bunch of tweets both from fans raving about the new song and wondering who the muse is, to random accounts with identical names in the handle all claiming to be said muse.

"Oh my god, he tweeted!" Dani shoves her phone into your hands.

As of right now [2:38pm] we're at 5.76 million streams. That's more than 150,000...

"What does that mean," she asks you.

"It means...he wants me to fly out to see him. Today."

"Oh my god."

Alexa screams again and at this point you've lost count of how many that is. Lia gets out of her chair and tucks her chin over your shoulder to read the post herself.

"You need to go," Alexa shouts. "I'll help you pack, let's go."

"What about finals?"

"Are you—are you actually thinking of not going because of finals?"

"I mean—"

"If you want me die, just say that," she does something with her mouth that looks like a manic smile.

"What Lex means to say is that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I'm sure even the profs would understand."

You're not sure what to say. First of all, you still don't have his number. Second of all, you're not sure how to fight through all the other accounts claiming to be you to let him know you saw the song. Third, you don't even know where to fly to. Fourth—

A Twitter notification chimes from your phone and a deadly hush falls over everyone. You go to your DM inbox with shaking fingers only to find a message request from an unknown sender. When you open the request, it's from Namjoon's agency.

Good afternoon,

You are being contacted today because one of our artists wishes to meet you. If you consent to the meeting, please review the flight information and tentative itinerary below and respond with your address and contact information. Please also note that the travel plans are for today [MM/DD/YYYY], so your response at your earliest convenience would be much appreciated. If you would like to go but cannot make it today—

"Do you think they'll send a car or should I book her a ride to the airport now?" Dani turns to Alexa.

"They'll probably send one to make sure the schedule is followed."

"That's true but what about—"

Lia taps you on the shoulder, startling you out of your stupor.

"There's a convenience store two doors down. Whatever you buy we can put in one of my suitcases and you can just take that. There's probably not enough time to go all the way back to your place."

"I—yeah, okay."

7 hours later finds Alexa, Dani and Lia finished with studying for the night. The entertainment channel is playing on the TV and the three of them have their heads bent over their phones and laptops, refreshing all the major gossip sites for updates.

"Maybe she's not even there yet," Dani sighs when the page she just refreshed shows no new posts.

"Yeah, I mean we still don't even know where she is," Lia says while putting her laptop to sleep. "What if they made her sign an NDA?"

"Even if they did, she'd probably still tell us once she got there. She's probably just busy killing time on the plane."

"She's sleeping!" Alexa screams a second later.

"Huh? How do you know that?"

"Check his instagram," is all she says before frantically typing a message to you about souvenirs.

Lia looks over at Dani's phone as she pulls up Namjoon's page. The rest of the layout is bare given his up until recent hiatus and the fact that he never posted any type of selfie. The video uploaded a mere 20 seconds ago undoes all the previous minimalism of the entire account.

The post isn't even of Namjoon. It's a black and white 5 second video of the top half of your naked back and shoulders, the rest of your body covered by the sheets. One of your arms is raised to cover your head with a pillow. The only sign of Namjoon is the arm that reaches out from the bottom of the frame, making it clear that he took the video himself. His hand reaches out to trace a heart over the skin of your shoulder blade. The caption reads:

Thanks for keeping your promise

[poppywrites41]

Why? Eren x Reader

Pairing: Eren Jeager x Fem! Reader

Summary: Y/N and Eren had always been close friends since childhood. Both of their parents had been lost when they were younger and they both joined the survey corps with their friends Mikasa and Armin. Y/N and Eren began to realize feelings for each other after the first time they went to the beach. Eren couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she was playing in the water with her best friend, Sasha. Ever since then, they two would always look after each other and take comfort in each others arms. However, after their first trip to Marley with Yelena, after developing the plan with Zeke, she noticed Eren has been acting different…

Warnings: NSWF, Cursing, mentions of death, SMUT

CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM MANGA. DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED. This is a pretty long one. It goes along with the manga but I added my own twist.😊 There will be some time-skips bc I can’t write that much LMAO

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“Meeting dismissed. Everyone pack your stuff and head to the ship. We will depart to Marley in 2 hours.” Hange said to the new Levi squad and Yelena’s crew.

Y/N was still in disbelief that they would be taking the fight to Marley, to innocent civilians. She knew that they needed to retrieve Zeke, but she wasn’t too keen on Eren destroying anything. She thinks it would make things worse. Eren on the other hand, was rearing to go. He had a devilish look to his eyes when he stated that he would transform during the ceremony. Y/N almost didn’t recognize the person in front of her. She needed to talk to him before they leave. 

“Eren?” Y/N knocked on his door. 

“Come in”

Y/N opened to door to see Eren putting on Marleyian soldier clothes. She hadn’t realized how much he physically changed until now. He was taller and well built. His hair grew out and he started to grow a stubble. His eyes. His beautiful green eyes seemed to have lost their sparkle that was there when they were younger.

“Did you have something to tell me or are you just going to stand there like a mute?” his monotonous gruff voice brought her out of her thoughts. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled and she played with her sleeves, “I wanted to talk to you about the plan.”

Eren looked at her with his piercing eyes, “You don’t agree with the plan?”

Y/N gulped and shifted on her feet, eyes looking at the floor, “It’s not that I don’t agree with the plan. The plan is to retrieve Zeke, Eren. Do you have to kill civilians in the process? What if they fight back? What if someone we love dies?”

Eren sighed, “Y/N, if you have any doubts, I suggest you leave immediately. We cannot have weak soldiers there to mess things up.”

Y/N’s head snapped up to meet his eyes, her own eyes brimming with tears. 

“Eren...you don’t mean tha-”

“I am going to attack when they declare war on us Y/N. That is final. We need to send a message to them. Yelena came up with a plan to lure their titans away and so do I. The soldiers here are well equipped to handle anything so I doubt anyone will die. If they do, they were being careless.”

Y/N stared into his eyes to look for any sort of emotion, but saw nothing. She was scared, she was trembling. “Eren I-”

“You need to stay.”

“What?”

Eren took a few steps to Y/N and caressed her cheek in his palm looking down into her big e/c eyes. “You need to stay. I fear you will get hurt and I cannot have you getting hurt.”

She looks up at him in disbelief. “No Eren, I can do it. Let me come wi-”

“I CAN’T LOSE YOU!” he yells and brings her into a bone crushing hug.

“Eren…” Y/N breaths as she rubs his back, “It’s okay. I-”

“Please stay here...please. I promise I will come back. I need you here. I need you safe.”

“Why? Eren, I can help!”

“You will be helping! If you stay here, it will help me get home faster! I also need someone here to make sure everyone is safe. Please?” Eren looks into her eyes and her see tears. His eyes are full of sadness and fear and it hurt her. She took his head in her hands and wiped his tears.

“Okay,” She say with a sad smile, “I will stay.”

Eren gives a small smile and leans in to place his lips on hers. It has been a while since they have kissed mainly since everyone was busy planning and training. Y/N and Eren haven’t had much time to themselves. Eren leans back and looks at the clock, “We still have some time left before I leave…”

Y/N smirks, “Let’s make the most of it, Jaeger.”

Eren picks her up and lays her on his bed, smothering her neck and collarbone with kisses and love bites. Y/N slides her hands under his shirt, feeling his toned abs and back.

Eren steals her lips as he slowly unbuttons her shirt and caresses her smooth skin.

“I love you.” Y/N says out of breath pulling her hands through his dark hair.

“Yes I know” Eren says. He loves it when she does that to his hair. It relaxes him.

Once her shirt is off, he trails kisses down her bra and begins to suck at the top of her breasts.

“Ah! Eren…” Y/N breaths, tugging at his hair.

He chuckled and reached behind her to unclasp her bra, freeing her beautiful mounds. His hand immediately goes for her right breast, kneading it slowly as he spread kisses on her left. His mouth latched onto her nipple and began to suck. Y/N moaned and writhed on the bed, panting.

“Eren...please…”

Eren used his left hand to travel down to her pants. He unbuttoned them and began to pull them down, leaving her in her black lace underwear. He marvels at the sight before him.

“I’m glad you wore this pair. They’re my favorite.” He smirks and slids his hand underneath to her core, feeling her arousal.

“You’re so wet,” he says, easily sliding his two finger, earning a moan from the woman underneath him, “so perfect.”

“Ngh...Erennnn…” Y/N begins to writhe in pleasure as he begins to quickly slide his fingers in and out of her. Her hips bucking into his palm.

“You’re close? Already?” He asks in disbelief.

“W-We haven’t done a-anything in a while. Ah!” Y/N pants, hands gripping to his shirt.

Eren gives a small smile when she begins to tighten around his fingers. She’s close. He goes faster and listens to her moans and pants.

“E-Eren!! I’m-”

“Cum.” he says in a low voice.

Y/N felt her whole world shake as she felt her body spasm, giving out a long moan. Her whole body shaking. Eren chuckled and gave her a kiss as she slid her underwear down and unbuckled his pants. He had to leave soon so he only pulled them down a bit to free his cock. He gathered her wetness from her orgasm and spread it over his cock. Y/N watched him through lidded eyes, anticipating the feeling of having him inside her.

“Eren,” she whined, “now.”

“Yes, darling.” Eren chuckled and lined himself up to her entrance. He took her in his embrace and pushed himself him, wrapping his arms around her.

“A-Ahhhh Erennn” Y/N whimpered, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Her walls were stretching all over again. Eren gave her a minute to adjust since they haven’t been together like this in a while and began to rock his hips into her gently, relishing in her moans, memorizing everything about her.

“Fuck Y/N…” Eren breathes, “you’re so fucking tight…”

All Y/N can do is moan in pleasure, too out of it to talk. Eren then sits them up and has her bouncing on his cock in his lap. The new position allowed him to go deeper, earning louder moans from the woman. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, not wanting to let go.

Eren was close. He hated that he was so close this early, but he knew he needed to leave soon. He dug his face into her neck and breathed in her scent.

“Y/N...I’m close.”

Y/N’s hand went into his hair again, tugging at the long dark strands, “Yes! Yes! Eren please!!”

Eren thrusted himself into her a couple more times. He gave one final thrust as he came deep inside her, groaning as his seed spilt inside her. He stayed there for a few minutes, making sure every last drop made it inside her. Y/N on the other hand, was completely spent. Eren slowly untangled himself from her and gently laid her down on his bed, using his hand to move any stray hairs out of her face.

“Eren…” Y/N says.

“Shhh,” Eren hushes her, pressing a kiss to her lips, “Rest. I will be back in a month. Wait for me.”

Y/N’s eyes close, too tired to do anything from exhaustion. Eren looks down at the sleeping woman, the woman he held so dear to him. He sighed and stood up, grabbed his things and left. 

“It had to be done.”

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*Time skip to a month after*

It had been a month since that day and 2 weeks since Y/N found something. She was planning on telling Eren, only to then hear that Eren had been locked up for acting on his own and that her dear best friend, Sasha, had been killed.

“Y/N” Armin said as they all gathered together, “We will talk to Eren and figure something out.”

“Why do you always defend him, Armin?!” Connie yelled.

“Connie...” Mikasa warned.

“No, Mikasa! You cannot defend Eren for what he did! You are doing it because of your Akerman instincts.” Connie looked at us with tears, “I lost my twin...I lost half of me...And do you know what Eren did when he heard Sasha died? That bastard laughed.”

Y/N looked at him in shock, “No...He wouldn’t-”

“Why would he laugh if you all knew everything about him?” Connie pressed.

“Let us talk to Eren. Hopefully Y/N can talk to him.” Armin said.

“What if Eren shares the same goals as Zeke?” Jean asks, “What then.”

“The scouts have medicine that can turn someone into a titan..” 

“Armin” Y/N began to tear up, “No...”

“If Eren can no longer be trusted, we need to transform someone we trust into a titan and feed Eren to them.” 

“But Eren still has time left!” Y/N cries.

“We know,” Mikasa hugs her, “So that’s why we need to talk to him and figure out his motives to see if he is still on our side.

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*Time skip to when Eren breaks out*

“We have an emergency!!” An officer barges into the meeting room, gathering everyone’s eyes on him, “Eren Jeager has escaped!”

“What?!” Armin exclaimed, “How?!”

“He used the War Hammer titan,” Hange sighed, “I guess his is going to meet up with the Jeagerists. We need to meet with Nicolo and figure something out”

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 *At the restaurant*

“NICOLO! Stop it now!” Jean said as he held back the chef.

“She killed Sasha!” the chef cried pointing at Gabi.

“Calm down, we will handle her!” Armin said, “Y/N, Mikasa, let’s take her to another room.”

“I killed your friend. Killing me should be enough. Just don’t hurt Falco.” Gabi said.

“We aren’t going to kill you.” Y/N said.

“You can’t stop yourself from wanting to kill me right?” the little girl asked.

“No,” Armin said, “That’s all you ever talk about huh? Kill, kill, kill. You remind me of a certain someo-”

Armin was interrupted by the door opening to reveal Eren.

Everyone looked at him in shock.

“E-Eren...” Y/N sighed.

“Sit down,” Eren said showing a cut on his hand, “and keep your hands on the table.”

Everyone did as they were told, not wanting to risk and accident. There was a knock on the door.

“We’re leaving.”

“Okay.” Eren called.

“Was that Floch’s voice?” Armin asked, “You came with Floch?”

“Yeah” Eren said, “I wanted to talk to you guys in a quiet setting. We can settle Eldia’s problems without any conflict. Hange and the others will be fine. We’re just moving them.”

“We are the ones who wanted to talk to you,” Armin said, “We just wanted to know what you were thinking Eren.”

“What made you decide on your own to attack Marley.” Y/N said, “If Zeke and Yelena have really gotten you on their side…”

“I’m free.” Eren and said, “Whatever I do, whatever I choose, I do it out of my own free will”

“You met with the Yelena in secret the night of the rail opening right?” Armin asked, “Has this all been your free will since then?”

“That’s right.” Eren said

“You’re being controlled.” Mikasa said.

“Eren..” Y/N began, “You are not the kind of person who would involve innocent civilians and children, even if they live in an enemy state. You’ve cared for and thought about us more than anyone. Haven’t you? You saved us multiple times out of your own kindness right?” Her hand instinctively going down to her stomach.

“I said keep your hands on the table” Eren said sternly. “I hid myself in Liberio and spoke with Zeke brother to brother. I learned a lot then. Zeke knows more than Marley does.”

“Eren-” Armin begins.

“Armin,” Eren said, “You’re still going by and seeing Annie aren’t you? Is that out of your own will or is it Bertolts?”

Armin was taken aback, “what-”

“If memories play a major role in forming who the person is, that means part of you has become Bertolt. A part of an enemy soldiers that feels love for another enemy soldiers influencing a significant part of your judgment. You weren’t soft like this before. You never back to the enemy. Your judgment was always able to lead us to the answer. But every time you open your mouth now, it’s ‘let’s talk’ you’re absolutely useless.” 

“Eren…” YN began.

“Armin you’re the one being controlled by the enemy.”

“Eren stop” Mikasa says.

“I learned about the Ackermans there too. The reason you’re strong Mikasa. It turns out the Marleyian scholars still barely know anything about titans but what came about by accident from the Eldian empires fiddling around with the subjects of Ymir during its long history was the Ackerman clan who maintain a human form but in some cases can manifest the power of the Titans. Still the Ackerman clan was designed in order to protect Eldia’s king as a result the instincts and their blood will still activate once they recognize someone as a host. In other words you only cling to me because of your instincts as an Ackerman. You obeyed my order in that moment when you were facing death. Apparently when all of those conditions are met the instincts hidden inside the Ackerman clans blood will awaken. Not only did this heighten your physical abilities to an extreme, you were even given the experience in battlefield accumulated by every past Ackerman by way of a path. All because you happened by chance to trick yourself into believing I was the host you had to protect.”

“You’re wrong.” Y/N said. 

Eren turned to her with a glare, “Oh? Am I? How?”

“It wasn’t by chance,” she said, “It was because of you she was able to become strong. Because of you and your kindness.” 

“Apparently once an Ackerman awakens they find themselves suffering from headaches. They say this happens out of the true self trying to resist being forced to protect its host. Sound familiar Mikasa? What I’m saying is that the real Mikasa disappeared in that mountain hunt nine years ago leaving only you behind ever faithful to your Ackerman instincts.”

“Eren stop.”

“The clan who lost their true selves created only to follow orders. In other words, slaves.”

“Eren please stop”

“Do you know what I hate the most in this world, anyone who isn’t free. That, or cattle. Just looking at the made me so angry. Now I finally understand why. I couldn’t stand to look at it and doubting slave who only ever follow orders. Ever since I was a kid I have always hated you.”

“STOP IT!” YN slapped Eren but he slammed her to the ground. “Stay Y/N” 

Armin threw himself across the table and began to throw punches but Eren deflected them with ease. 

“Armin we’ve never fought before, huh? Do you know why that is? It’s because there’s no way you could even put up a fight against me.” Eren slammed Armin into the ground and began stomping on him. 

He suddenly stopped when a pair of arms wrapped around his torso. 

“Please... stop.” Y/N said crying. 

Eren looked into her eyes, “I will stop if you tell me where Zeke is. Or you can just come with us.”

 He signaled the guards to pick up Armin. 

“And what is it you even wanted to say?” Armin coughed, “Is that the freedom you wanted? The freedom to hurt all of us? Tell me who’s the real slave to a piece of shit?”

Eren gritted his teeth, “Who are you calling a slave? Let’s go.”

That night they went to the Shiganshina district. Eren had Y/N, Mikasa, and Armin thrown in a cell while he and his group made a plan to meet up with Zeke.

“Why…” Y/N cried as tears flowed down her cheeks, “Why would he do this?”

“I don’t know.” Armin said.

Y/N got up from her chair to lay down, but collapsed due to the pain in her stomach. She groaned in pain, clutching herself.

“Y/N!!” Jean and Mikasa cried out and rushed to help her up.

“Are you alright?” Armin asked.

“I think so…” Y/N said with tears, “But I am not sure about it…”

“...It?” Armin questions.

“I was planning to tell Eren when he got back…” Y/N said, her whole body shaking, “But he’s not the same person, I don’t know what he would do to me if he found out…”

“Found out what?” Connie asked.

“That...I’m…” Y/N shakes uncontrollably, “p-pregnant.”

“What?!”

Armin hold Y/N closer, “And that bastard floored you earlier. That can’t be good.”

“HEY!!” Jean yells through the halls, “We need a doctor immediately!! Please!!”

“Someone please!! Get a doctor!!” Mikasa screams.

“Hold on, Y/N!” Armin rubs her shoulder, “We will get you help! Just hold on. Maybe if Eren knows, he will-”

“No!” Y/N cries, “He cannot know. He must not know!”

“I can’t know what?”

Everyone gasped at the familiar voice. Eren.

There was complete silence and that ticked Eren off.

“What. Can’t. I. Know.” He annunciates. Y/N winces.

“Eren,” Mikasa starts, “Y/N is hurt. You went too hard on her.”

Eren skeptically looked at Mikasa then at Y/N. He saw how red, sweaty and pained she was.

“Are you so weak that you couldn’t handle a shove? I didn’t even do it that hard.” He chuckled.

“Eren…” Jean growled stalking towards the bars. He reached through and grabbed Eren’s shirt, “If you still have feelings for her, you will get her help.” 

“Jean…” Y/N whimpers, catching Eren’s attention, “Don’t.”

Eren laughed, “You care about him don’t you Y/n? Would you hate me if I hurt him?”

“P-please don’t Eren,” Y/N said, “He’s my friend, but you are special to me.”

“Then you wouldn’t have a problem joining my cause. If I’m so special to you.”

Y/N gets up with the help of Mikasa, still clutching her stomach, “Not if it means hurting my friends.”

Eren eyes her clutching her stomach but doesn’t move, “How will I know you are not tricking me to open this cell and you all attack me?”

“Eren” Armin starts, “You have three titans and could kill us at any moment. However, Y/N, our friend, is in serious pain. Why would we risk her safety to escape from you?”

“We will go to the opposite side of the cell.” Mikasa said.

Eren seemed to be lost in thought but hearing Y/N groan in pain brings him back to reality.

“Fine,” He said, “I will take her to get help. But if any of you try anything, I will not hesitate to hurt you.”

“Thank you…” Connie breathed.

Eren took the keys to the cell out of his pocket and unlocked the cell door, “Move.”

Everyone stepped back, leaving Y/N by herself. Eren opened the door and roughly grabbed her, Y/N making her wince. “Y/N!” Mikasa flinched, causing Eren’s head to snap up, his titan marks showing up on his skin. “I’m fine! It’s okay.” Y/N said as Eren quickly dragged her out, looking back at her friends in the cell with a sad smile.

Eren walked into the conference room gathering the Jeagerists attention, “I need a doctor.” he said in a monotonous voice. 

“Eren!” Floch said, “Why is Y/N out of her cell?”

“Get a doctor. Now.” Eren ordered. Everyone went out in search of a doctor while Eren and Y/N waited in an unoccupied office. Soon, a man was led in by a soldier. 

“Mr. Jeager,” the man greeted, “My name is Dr. Kim, I was told you are in need of a doctor?”

“Yes. Apparently this woman is hurting in her stomach.” Y/N flinched when Eren referred to her as a woman and not by name.

“Alright. I will take a look at her and will grab you if there is anything wrong.” Dr. Kim said. Eren nodded and left.

Y/N gave a sigh of relief when Eren left, which went unnoticed by the doctor. “So,” he began with a warm smile, “What seems to be the issue?”

“Please don’t tell him anything.” Y/N whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“Please...and do not condemn him. I am pregnant with his child. He does not know. My friends and I tried to confront him, which ended up in him attacking us. Hurting me. He cannot know. But I need to know if the baby is fine.”

The doctor looks shocked. “You must tell hi-”

“No! Not right now. Please doctor. This must stay between us.”

The doctor gave a long sigh and nodded, “Alright. But I need you to take your shirt off so that I may check.”

Y/N took off her shirt, and laid down on the bed. The doctor began to feel around her lower stomach area on her very small bump. 

“You have some bruising, but I believe it is alright. Have you bled at all since the incident?” He asked. Y/N shook her head and the doctor nodded. 

“Well then, I believe everything is alright. Please try to take it easy. Maybe stay away from him for a while.” Y/N nodded, tears streaming down her face, “Thank you.” The doctor smiled and walked out.

The doctor walked to the other room where Eren was. 

“Well?” he asked while looking out the window.

“She has bruising on her abdomen, but overall she is fine. I suggest you be careful with her.”

Eren was caught off guard by that last sentence and looked at the doctor. 

“Well,” The doctor said, “I must get going. I still have many patients to attend to.”

Eren gets up and shakes the doctor’s hands, “Of course. Thank you.”

When the doctor left, Eren went to the office where Y/N was. He slammed open the door to see Y/N laying on the bed with her hand on her stomach, startling her.

“So you lied.” Eren said.

“What?” she said.

Eren walked to her and stood next to the bed, looking into her eyes with hatred, “You made it sound like something bad was happening, but you just had a few bruises. You lied to me. Did you do it to distract me from them escaping?”

“Wha-Eren! I wasn’t lying!” Y/N said.

“What are you hiding?” Eren asked.

Y/N’s eyes widened slowly sitting up, “Hiding?”

“You’re hiding something Y/N. What is it?” Eren said darkly.

“I’m not hiding anything Eren! You’re scaring me!” Y/N cries backing into the wall.

Eren slowly climbs onto the bed towards her, “You called a doctor for bruising. BRUISING. On your stomach. Isn’t that suspicious?”

“Eren-”

“I will ask you again. What. Are. You. Hiding?” He ordered. His face centimeters from hers.

“Nothing...I’m not hiding anyth-AH” Eren cut her off by roughly grabbing her and slamming her back onto the bed. 

“Eren!” She cried, “Stop it! Please!”

“I will figure it out. What are you hiding…” Eren holds her hands above her head with one hand and with his other, he ripped her shirt off. 

“Stop it Eren! Please stop!” Y/N cried trying to kick him off, “No! Don’t!”

But it was too late. Eren saw the bruises that littered her lower stomach…and the tiny bump. 

At that moment, Eren couldn’t hear Y/N’s cries, only his heartbeat. Y/N kept crying for him to get off and to not hurt her, shaking like a leaf.

“How long…” Eren’s voice silenced her, “How long?”

“A-A m-month. Eren p-please don’t-”

“You weren’t going to tell me.”

“E-Eren-”

“You WEREN’T going to tell me!”

“YOU’RE NOT THE SAME PERSON!” Y/N screams.

She can feel Eren shaking with anger on top of her, his hold tightening around her wrists.

“Ngh! Eren! Stop it! Eren!” She cried.

“Why…” He asks with a shaky breath, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“You aren’t yourself. Y-You have been acting on your own. Jeopardizing everyone’s safety. My best friend was killed because of you...and...and you LAUGHED!!” 

Her scream caught Eren off-guard which allowed her to push him off onto his back and start punching him.

“Why did you laugh Eren?! WHY? Why did you laugh at Sasha’s death?! Did she not mean anything to you!? WHY EREN?”

Eren laid completely still, letting her land her punches on him, he would heal anyways.

“Why are you helping Zeke?! Why are you hurting us?! Armin?? Mikasa?? Why are you hurting me??” Y/N’s began to tire and her head began to hurt she got one last punch to his face before collapsing on his chest, crying. 

“Why did you turn against us??” she sobbed digging her nails into his skin through his shirt, “What happened to you?”

“I am still me-”

“No you’re not.”

“I am doing what I need to do to to save us.”

“We can find a different way.”

“There is no other way, Y/N. I need to get to Zeke. I need to prevent him from keeping Eldians from having children!”

Y/N looked up at him in shock, “What?”

“I am not going with Zeke’s plan all the way Y/N. He want me to use the Founding Titans power to make all Eldians unable to have children. But I won’t let that happen, I will connect with him and use the Founding Titan to start the Rumbling to destroy the Marlayians.”

“But why hurt us?”

“It’s best if not everyone knows what’s going on so Zeke does not get suspicious.”

He brings her face to his and kisses her lips.

“But Eren. Thousands of innocent lives will die…”

“But not everyone on Paradis,” he says trailing kisses down to her breasts, “Not you. Not the baby.”

Y/N clutches Eren’s shirt as he sucks on her nipples, “You can save everyone Eren. All this bloodshed isn’t the answer.”

“Let’s not talk about this.” He says as he trails his hand into her pants, finding her wet core. “Let me love you.”

Y/N dug her nails into his skin, whimpering as he brought her to her high with his digits.

“Erennnnnnn” She cries out in ecstasy, panting like a dog. Eren looks at her with gentle eyes. The woman he loves underneath him, carrying his future. Seeing her tiny bump awoke something in him. He suddenly rid himself of his clothes, ripped off her pants and underwear and quickly slid his cock into her heat. 

“Eren!” Y/N cried out, “Be careful! I’m still sensitive there…”

Eren gives her a long passionate kiss as he begins to thrust his hips into hers, earning beautiful moans from her.

Y/N had never felt such pleasure before, Eren’s cock was hitting all the right places in her, bringing her closer to another orgasm.

“E-Eren I’m c-close” She panted.

Eren then grabbed her and flipped her on her hand and knees, pressing her head onto the soft pillow under her. He loved this position. He loved to look at her smooth back, the way her hair would be all over the place and how her big e/c eyes would look back to meet his. She was like a goddess. He began to feel her walls tighten around him, a tell sign that she was closs. He leaned over her as he went harder against her hips, earning himself louder moans, kissing her nape. His hand slithered under to to rub her clit, bringing her closer to her high.

“Nghh E-Eren! P-Please don’t stop!!” She cried.

“Cum for me Y/N.” 

And she did. Her body went limp. Eren had to hold her up to that he could finish, spilling his seed into her. Eren wasn’t sure if it was physical or emotional exhaustion, but he collapsed right next to Y/N, pulling her into his arms, laying a hand on the tiny bump. Y/N on any day would love it when Eren spooned with her after sex, but she did not want to stay with him any longer. When she tried to get up, Eren’s hold on her tightened.

“Don’t leave me.”

“Eren, we can’t keep this up.”

“Please…” She stiffened as she felt wetness on her skin. Tears. “Let me hold you.” 

She didn’t say anything more, but she laid back down in his hold and relaxed.

“I love you, Y/N”

Y/N looks up at Eren with teary eyes, “Eren…”

“I am doing this to save you.”

“Eren, please…”

“Please let’s not talk about this. Let me hold you both for now.”

Y/N stiffens in his arms.

“Y/N, I’m sorry about Sasha. I will kill the brat who killed her-”

“No. You will not kill a child for revenge. She knows what she did and she regrets it. Leave her be.”

“Y/N-”

“Please... Just hold us.”

Eren nods and flips you in his arms to face him.

“I hate you.” Y/N cries as she digs her face into his chest inhaling his scent.

“I know.”

“We will fight you.”

“I know.”

“We will fight to kill you.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

WOW! This is my first fic that I’ve ever posted on here! I’m sorry if there are some errors, but I hope you guys love it and my little twist on the story!💜

[themaribatpit]

Hanging by a Thread: Chapter 3

Rated M: DC canon-typical violence, suggestive threats

Author’s Note: Neither of us are actually American, and DC Fanboy has some gripes with certain American habits.  Please feel free to tell us how uncultured we are in the comments, and try and explain yourselves to non-Americans.

Ships: Jason Todd/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Dick Grayson/Barbara Gordon (side ship).

Taglist:

@aespades​, @neakco, @ladybug-182, @seraphichana, @zalladane, @luminous-carrot, @jayjayspixiepop, @cap-noodles, @livelifeauthorstyle, @thepaceperson, @moongoddesskiana, @vroomtaka, @laurcad123,  @prettylittlebutterflie

Chapter 2 - Chapter 4​

Chapter 3

Dick slumped down on a chair when they returned to the Belfry.  He ripped off his domino mask and let out a sigh. “Damn he’s good, then again he was taught by the best.” 

“Dick!” Barbara gave him a dirty look. They both looked towards their French guest to see her still lost in thought. 

Ladybug transformed back to Marinette, and then slowly walked over to get herself another cup of hot chocolate to cheer herself up. As she operated the multi hot drinks machine in the Belfry, she thought about how incredibly convenient the device was. Barbara and Dick mentioned that unless it was winter, no one else used it for hot chocolate. 

Hot chocolate dispensed from the machine, and as she picked up the paper cup, a shadow loomed over her. She was able to make out the silhouette of an imposing figure with demonic pointed ears. She squealed in shock, spilling her hot chocolate on the figure. 

Dick rolled off the chair laughing, “Oh, better fly away home Ladybug.” “How long have you been waiting to use that joke?” Barbara said without looking away from the screen.

“Since the moment I met her, Babs,” Dick retorted.

After the initial shock, Marinette was able to see the figure clearly and realised she just spilled hot chocolate on Batman. The Batman. Marinette paled at what she had done, she fumbled around looking for tissues. All the while apologising profusely as she tried to find anything to wipe the Caped Crusader clean from this chocolatey mess. Her mind ran at a mile a minute, thinking of what Batman would do to her for spilling hot chocolate on him. She thought of how Batman would squish her like a bug, or perhaps he would break all of her limbs, and send her on the first flight back to Paris while tied to the cargo hold. Her mind was catastrophizing and going into a full panic as she stumbled around the kitchenette. 

Marinette found a damp cloth and began wiping Batman vigorously from head to toe and hoping it would somehow lessen her punishment. She looked up to see that Batman continued to stare at her with his infamous glare. Seeing that her attempts to clean up her mess had no effect, she ran back towards the main room and grabbed Dick, holding him in front of her as a shield. 

Batman slowly followed, without saying a word he stomped into the main room and came to a halt right in front of Dick. “Uh, hi.” Dick awkwardly greeted Batman. Marinette shakingly peeked her head out from behind. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, also known as Ladybug.” Batman’s low voice boomed with authority. “What are you doing here in Gotham?” 

Marinette yelped and went back to hiding behind Dick. Barbara interjected, “She’s here to investigate a recent use of the Lazarus Pit, mainly the Red Hood. From what we gather the creatures that give her power were also the ones who created the pits.” She explained on Marinette’s behalf. 

An uncomfortable silence hung in the room as Batman contemplated her answer. “Fine,” he relented. He turned and walked away. 

Marinette released a sigh of relief as she saw Batman leave. Dick took out his phone and began tapping on it, he just had to notify the rest of the Bat Family of what had just transpired. After a few moments he put his phone back in his pocket and walked away, “I’ll get a mop” he yelled back at Marinette and Barbara. 

Marinette then slumped on the dining table, hands in her head. Completely embarrassed at how she made a fool of herself in front of one of the world’s greatest heroes. Barbara calmly patted her back in consolation. After she calmed down and got herself another cup of hot chocolate, Marinette decided to head home.

On the way back to the apartment she shared with Zoe, she checked the messages that Zoe sent her during the past couple of days.  “Hey, are you okay?” The first one read.  “I haven’t seen you in the apartment for a while now,” she said, followed by a message that said “Please don’t be dead, I can’t afford rent by myself.” Marinette sent a quick reply saying, “I’m okay, I’ve just been busy taking care of some things.  See you tonight.” she said. When Marinette got home, she logged onto her computer to see a few messages from Alya, asking her of how she found Gotham City. Expressing worry for her friend, especially with the notoriety of Gotham's crime rate.

Marinette typed up "Hi Alya! Gotham is all right, I can take care of myself, you know that."

Alya decided to video call Marinette and her face appeared on screen. "Hey!" Alya waved her hand to her friend.

"Hi" Marinette gave a tired wave back.

"Everything okay?" Asked Alya.

"Fine, just tired from moving into the new place." She explained.

"By the way, could you open up a portal with Kaalki to my room?" asked Alya.

Marinette complied with her friend, as she put on the horse Miraculous and opened a portal. Soon a paper bag dropped from the ceiling and landed on the floor. "I had a feeling you might want something to cheer you up, I went to your parents' patisserie earlier."

Marinette opened up the bag to see several treats from the bakery.  She thanked her best friend profusely, and began eating them “How are things back in Paris?” Marinette asked, taking a macaron out of one of the boxes, she smiled as she took a bite out of it.  It was almost like she was 13 again, and her dad had given her a box of macarons for the first day of school.  

“Nothing we can’t handle,” Alya said, winking at her. “So, have you met any of Gotham’s vigilantes yet?” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck.  “Well, yeah,” she might as well tell her some of the things that happened.  “I accidentally spilled hot chocolate on Batman’s cape,” she confessed. “And you’re still alive?” Alya’s mouth hung open in shock. “Well, he does have a pretty strict ‘no killing’ policy,” Marinette told her. “Okay fair enough, how are you still in one piece?” Alya asked, still somewhat shocked.

“He just kinda glared at me, and I hid behind one of his sidekicks.” Marinette told her, “So, that’s how.” “Ah so you’ve met the sidekicks then,”  Alya gave her another knowing smile. “Some of them, Nightwing being one of them.” Marinette told her. “Did you get a good look at his assets?”  Alya gave her a wink, and Marinette rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure his assets were spoken for,” Marinette said, and before Alya could say anything more she quickly added “and no, I am not telling you who the lucky person is.” “You’re no fun.” Alya pouted mockingly, but she couldn’t stay angry at her friend.  Alya noticed the faraway look in Marinette’s eyes at that moment, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Marinette wondered how best to phrase it, “do you know anything about the Red Hood?” she asked.

Alya’s eyes widened in shock, “You’ve met him? Are you and Zoe living in his territory?”

“No, at least not that I know of, I just…” Marinette assured her, “Do you know anything about him?” “Give me a moment,” Alya said, quickly turning away to search for something on her laptop screen, “must have heard something about the guy…” she muttered.  Marinette never really told Alya about her soulmate bond, and she wasn’t about to start now.  “Says here he’s a crime lord that operates in Gotham City, that he took over Black Mask’s crime syndicate not too long ago…” Alya told her, “Pretty brutal to those who cross him, by the sound of things.” “Good to know,” Marinette muttered. “Marinette, are you sure you and Zoe are okay?” Alya asked. “We’re fine, just that Ladybug ran into him while working with Batman’s sidekicks.” Marinette told her. “I should have been there, it would have been a fun interview for Ladyblog.” Alya chuckled, and Marinette raised an eyebrow.  “I mean, after the fight of course, or maybe I should just stop talking.” “Try pitching the idea to Vicki Vale or Lois Lane, I’m sure they would jump at the chance.” Marinette joked.

"Just you wait until I get my Journalism degree, I'll bother you everyday for a scoop." Alya retorted. The two of them continued to laugh and joke with one another before Marinette went to bed.

The next morning, Marinette was woken by someone gently nudging her awake.  “Get dressed dummy, we’re going out.” she heard a voice say. Marinette looked up and blinked a few times before Zoe’s face came into view.  “What time is it?” Marinette groaned. “9am,” Zoe told her, “we are going to go out and get some breakfast together.” Marinette groaned in response, but slowly got out of bed.  Zoe leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms and smiling.  She chuckled slightly at the sight of Marinette’s tousled hair, Marinette smiled slightly in response.  “All right, all right, give me some time to get dressed.” she said and Zoe left, closing the door behind her. 

The two friends sat down to eat breakfast at a nearby diner, and Zoe began telling Marinette all the ways in which America was very different from France.  “First of all, they call the 24 hour clock ‘military time’, I never understood that.” she explained before taking a bite of her pancakes.  Americans made pancakes a lot thicker and fluffier compared to crepes, was another thing Marinette noticed.  “Oh, no more 2 hour lunch breaks, and as a French person, you will get made fun of for having more time off work than the Americans.” she said.  

As the two finished breakfast, Zoe paid the bill and left a tip. Marinette raised an eyebrow at Zoe for paying what was higher than the bill. “Marinette, remember, always tip whenever you go eat at a restaurant or a diner.” She explained. 

“Why? Isn’t there a service charge added? Don’t the servers get paid?” Marinette asked.

“Not at all.” Zoe deadpanned. 

“What?” Marinette exclaimed in shock, she quickly covered her mouth as eyes turned to face her for her outburst. 

 Zoe beckoned Marinette to follow her, “Come on, I’ll show you all the hotspots in Gotham City.”

 The two walked out onto the street and across several blocks.  Zoe stopped as the two reached their destination. She then pointed to an old gothic tower, “That there is the old Wayne Tower, creepy isn’t it? Built in 1888 by Cyrus Pinkey for the Waynes right at the heart of Gotham City. It’s been closed for a few years now, since Wayne Enterprise moved to the New Wayne Tower in the financial district.”

 Marinette’s eyes widened in recognition, it was where the Belfry was located. She remembered the gothic tower, but she had no idea it was the old Wayne Tower. She decided it would be best to keep quiet about this revelation. 

 The two continued sightseeing as they ventured into Robinson Park. “This park is amazing, the biggest park in the heart of Gotham. Also it's very close to Gotham U, I’d love to come here everyday after class to unwind.” Zoe explained. The two calmly walked across the park, enjoying the scenery and stopping by to feed some ducks.

 “Anyway I need to get some things on the way back,” the two then walked to a nearby grocery store and bought groceries. Being on a budget, Marinette eyed the price tags frugally, calculating how much it would cost her. Zoe smirked at Marinette, knowing what would come next when the two went to the cash register. Marinette was thrown into a loop as the total amount did not match the price tags. Marinette tried to ask for an explanation from the cashier, but they were not helpful. The cashier only said that it was tax, “Why isn’t tax included in the price tags?” she pleaded to the cashier.

The cashier gave Marinette a light shrug. “That's just the way things are.” 

Marinette pulled her pigtails in frustration as to why the final price doesn’t match the price tag. “Ok fine, what's the tax in America?”

Zoe took the chance to intervene and explain it to her friend. “It depends, it varies between states, counties and even cities.” 

Marinette banged her head against the counter in frustration. “Why? Why is it so crazy here?” 

Zoe and the cashier laughed at Marinette's antics. The cashier asked “You new here?” 

Marinette did not lift her head up, “How could you tell?” 

The two made their purchase and walked home, Marinette had to do a double take on the loaf of bread she bought. She stopped Zoem and said that they needed to go back to the grocery store for another loaf of bread, because this one had expired. Zoe snatched the loaf from Marinette’s hands and took another look. “Nope it's fine, remember America uses Month/Day/Year here.” Zoe explained. Marinette’s eye twitched as the two walked back to their apartment. 

The semester began the following Monday at Gotham University. As a Fashion & Design student, Marinette had long studio classes which usually kept her busy during the day.  She would have to spend even longer hours in the studio if she had a project due.  When Zoe wasn’t attending lectures, she had a part-time job that kept her busy as well.  So Marinette didn’t see much of her by the time she managed to return to their apartment.

Over the course of the next few days, she would go to her classes by day and go out every night to search for her soulmate. However, the Red Hood had proved to be elusive, always alert to the movement of the red thread that tied them together.  Marinette found that the thread changed wildly.  Some nights she stopped by the Belfry, exhausted and dejected. Barbara had noticed this and decided that she had to know about Jason, it might change her mind or it might not. She deserved to know if she was going to go looking for him every night.

One night when she entered the Belfry, Barbara gestured to Marinette, “Come over and pull up a chair.” Marinette followed and brought a chair to the computer. The two sat side by side, “Mari, you deserve to know more about Jason...the Red Hood.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the mention of her soulmate, “Please tell me more about him.” she begged.

“Marinette, I’m sorry, we knew more about him but we didn’t tell you.” Barbara apologised.

Marinette was hurt at how they were withholding information about her soulmate from her. “Why?” was all that she was able to say.

Barbara took a deep breath, “Because Jason was the second Robin.” 

Marinette’s jaw dropped at this bombshell, her soulmate used to be Robin. It would explain the skills he displayed out in their last encounter. Marinette wondered how tough his life was, how he suffered at the hands of the criminals of Gotham at such a young age. Some of the things he said back at the dockyards were now sounding like they came from experience.  “What was he like?” she asked, wanting to know what her soulmate was like before his death. 

“Angry, rebellious, Jason always felt like it was him against the world. He was caught trying to steal the wheels off the Batmobile, that's how Batman found him and brought him in.” Barbara explained. 

“How did he die?” Marinette asked.

Barbara grew silent at the mention of Jason’s death. “He tried to pursue the Joker, but it was a trap. The Joker caught him, tortured him for god knows how long. I saw his bruises, it-it was as if he was beaten over and over again with a crowbar.” Marinette covered her mouth and her eyes welled with tears as she heard the gruesome details of her soulmate's unfortunate end. 

“To make matters worse, he locked Jason in the room with a bomb.” “What about the Red Hood?” she asked. “We...we buried a mannequin in a wig,” Barbara explained, “the real body was taken by the League of Assassins, trying to make up for what happened.”

Marinette stood up and rushed to the guest room, she had heard enough.  She could not imagine the pain and suffering her soulmate had been through his entire life.

Jason had been constantly on the move, knowing that his soulmate was out looking for him.  He tried to shut off the part of him that wanted to get close.  He was honestly surprised the Bat clan hadn't told her every horrific story they had about him.  Either they didn't know they were soulmates or she was knowingly walking head first into the lion's mouth.  If she didn't find him, then she might stumble upon a group of his men at work, and they might be a lot less forgiving.   If he was constantly checking over his shoulder, making sure the girl wasn't close by, things were bound to start slipping through the cracks.  

He himself had various safehouses scattered around the city, but he couldn't keep running forever.   It was getting ridiculous, he had faced crime lords, assassins and even gone toe-to-toe with Batman multiple times.  Yet here he was, running and hiding from a girl who was about a foot shorter than he was.  He knew why, of course, he wasn't afraid of her but she should be very afraid of him.  He had hoped that she would give up the search, as she drew closer and closer to finding out the truth about what happened to him.  But life had never been that easy for Jason, and sooner or later she was going to get too close to the untamed monster beneath.  If she got hurt because of him, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.  Not even his old self could forgive that.  He would have no trouble protecting her from other criminals, not that she really needed it.  However, whatever came crawling out of the pits was something else.

After putting a swift end to some people who were causing trouble in his territory,  his mind wandered back to Ladybug.  Specifically, the sad look in her eyes when he explained how brutal and unforgiving Gotham could be.  He tried not to think about it, because that look made him want to hold her close, and reassure her that everything would be okay.  Thoughts of how the idea of her gave him hope all those years ago would come bubbling to the surface.  It made him want to protect her, to ensure that this world wouldn’t hurt her the way it hurt him.  When she looked at him with those eyes, it made him want to believe that she trusted him to do just that.  He shook his head, and told himself that what he was also the very thing she needed protecting from.  

Most nights Jason had nightmares about failing to save her.  There were even nightmares where she died by his hands.  Her blue eyes would become lifeless and vacant, her skin would feel ice cold, and he would end up cradling her limp form in his arms.  Batman would just love it if those nightmares came true.  It would only prove to him that Jason was nothing more than an unhinged monster he couldn’t cage.  It wasn’t as though the Bat had much luck caging the real monsters in Gotham anyhow.  Most days, Jason’s skin crawled as he remembered the feeling of the Lazarus pit’s waters.  The creatures she was palling around with were the ones who made it. They probably didn’t give a damn about the evil they had inflicted on the world because of it.   For all he knew, being around her little fairy friends would make the effects much worse.  Still, when he snapped back to reality, he would see the string glowing red, just as it had always done.  Occasionally moving and twitching as his soulmate searched high and low for him. Maybe the time had come to have a little talk, soulmate to soulmate...

[chudleycanonficfest]

Just the Girl

Day 21, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Just the Girl

Author: adenei

Pairing: Scorose (implied)

Prompt: Songfic

Rating: K

TW: alludes to events in CC, but nothing outright is stated!

A/N: This fic’s idea was originally inspired by the song “Just the Girl” by Click Five. It ended up taking a turn I wasn’t anticipating, but if anyone’s read Cursed Child, you’ll know that Scorpius is absolutely smitten with Rose, who tends to give him the cold shoulder and turns his nose down on him throughout the majority of the play. 

‘Cause she’s bittersweet; she knocks me off of my feet

And I can’t help myself; I don’t want anyone else

She’s a mystery; she’s too much for me

But I keep comin’ back for more; she’s just the girl I’m lookin’ for 

“Scorpius, relax.”

The older blonde pats his teenage son on the shoulder as they approach the lopsided house at the end of the country lane. Twenty years ago, Draco would have never entertained the thought of mingling with any of the three individuals that made up the Golden Trio, let alone the rest of the Weasleys. Yet here they were, at the invitation extended to them by Albus, Harry’s son and Scorpius’s best friend, to the Weasley’s mid-summer birthday celebration. His late father is probably rolling in his grave as Draco takes each step forward, cognizant of the dust that tinges his favorite pair of Grensons.

“I can’t, Dad! Do you know how big of a deal this is to get invited to the Burrow?”

“So you’ve told me every day since Albus owled two weeks ago.”

It’s not that Draco resents his son’s friendship with the middle Potter boy. If anything, he’s grateful that Scorpius has found such a close friend during his time at Hogwarts. Sure, the two of them caused enough trouble in five years that rivaled Harry’s penchant for saving the world, but that was all water under the bridge now. Draco is sure the invitation was only extended to them today because of his willingness to work with the Potters and Granger-Weasleys to avoid what was sure to be an end to life as they knew it if Delphi had succeeded in her maniacal plan.

As they round the subtle bend in the path, the Burrow’s expansive garden comes into view, and Draco can see a plethora of people swarming the grounds. A dozen teenagers are flying around a makeshift pitch in what looks like a pick-up Quidditch match while the adults sit along the magically expanded picnic table, sipping on beverages and watching the game unfurl. 

“Thanks for letting me come,” Scorpius interrupts Draco’s observations as he bounces along beside his father.

“Scorpius, we’ve been over this. Just because Albus’s dad and I don’t always get along, I won’t let that get in the way of your friendship.”

His son beams up at him with a wide smile. “Are you gonna stay for dinner?”

Draco chuckles. “That will depend if I’m welcome. Though I’ll probably just exchange pleasantries and be on my way after I figure out what time you’ll be home.”

“Great!”

As they approach the house, it doesn’t take long for Albus to spot the blonde-haired pair. He’s sitting on the sidelines, which is unsurprising to Draco, considering neither boy inherited any interest or skill in quidditch. Albus scrambles to his feet and begins running toward Scorpius to meet them halfway. Draco is about to make a comment about how excited Scorp’s best friend is to see him but pauses when he notices his son’s gaze peering around the pitch instead.

Well, that’s odd.

“Scorp! Scorp! Over here!” Albus calls, finally gaining Scorpius’s attention.

“Hey, Al!” Scorpius’s tone is bright and excitable as Albus slows in front of them.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” He’s out of breath from the run, but that’s not what interests Draco. 

Why wouldn’t Albus know Scorpius was coming? Did he forget to send a response?

Scorpius did have a knack for forgetfulness, so it wouldn’t be surprising to Draco. He watches his son with renewed interest to see how he responds.

“Oh! Uh…” Scorpius has also never been good at lying. 

Draco can read him like an open book, just like Astoria. He follows Scorpius’s gaze, which flits back to the pitch, and his face transforms into a goofy grin as an olive-skinned girl with flaming red curls flashes a wicked grin in their direction.

“Oh. Oh!” Albus responds quickly as he looks back toward his family. “Yeah, maybe Wiggy lost your letter. He’s been doing that more and more lately. Dad says he’s getting old…” Albus rambles. “C’mon, let’s go find Rose! I’m sure she’ll want to, er, show you around the grounds with me.”

“Right, uh, thanks, Dad! I promise I won’t be home late!”

“Yeah, Dad’s over there with Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione if you want to figure out a time!” Albus mentions over his shoulder.

Draco has every intention of walking over to his former classmates, but he can’t seem to get his feet to move as he watches the boys run off. His suspicions are confirmed when he watches Rose dismount from her broom and run to meet them. The awkwardness that ensues between the teenage Granger-Weasley and his son matches that of young adolescent love, and terror floods Draco’s veins.

Of all the girls at Hogwarts… 

Of course, Draco shouldn’t be surprised by this. He knew Scorpius was smitten with Rose early on. All he could talk about during holidays were Albus and his ‘beautiful, strong-willed’ cousin Rose. But Draco also knew that for the first few years of their Hogwarts career, Rose refused to give Scorpius the time of day, which put his mind at ease. Becoming best friends with Potter’s son was one thing, but Draco may just have a heart attack if Scorpius and Rose were now a—

Bloody hell, they’re absolutely a thing, aren’t they? 

It’s all Draco can do to keep a straight face as he watches the two share a chaste hug, their hands grazing as they make their way to the orchard. He needs to stop it. No, he shouldn’t interfere. 

Do Weasley and Granger know?

The thought of the girl’s parents shakes Draco from his stupor as his feet figure out how to move again, and he takes long, purposeful strides toward where they are sitting.

“Malfoy,” Potter greets him upon his arrival, his voice not as curt as it usually is.

“Potter.”

“Why d’you look like you’ve just eaten a puking pastille?” Ron asks, ignoring any form of welcome.

Draco’s response is interrupted as Ginny approaches from the house. “Draco! Hi. I didn’t realize Al invited Scorpius today,” Ginny looks at Harry for an explanation before she adds, “Not that he’s not welcome, of course!”

“I wasn’t aware, either,” Harry knits his brows in confusion.

“Well, I was under the impression it was Albus that invited him, but now I’m not so sure.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asks, her face paling slightly.

Draco’s not surprised. Hermione’s always had an annoying knack to come to a conclusion faster than anyone he’s ever known. For once, he hopes she doesn’t disappoint in this regard.

“When Albus came to greet us, he said he didn’t know Scorpius was coming. At first, I believed Scorpius had forgotten to owl his response, but watching that interaction, I think Al may be covering for someone else once he caught on.”

Weasley was an Auror. Let’s see how long it takes him to string things together.

The answer is not long as the Trio’s eyes travel across the garden, just in time to catch Rose and Scorpius entering the orchard hand in hand as Albus slinks off in another direction. Draco doesn’t think he’s ever seen Ron so pale. 

“Hermione, did Rose happen to give the name of the friend she was inviting today?” Ron asks.

“No,” Hermione squeaks, her voice weak from shock, and Draco’s surprised to see that something finally seems to shut the know-it-all up.

Harry bursts out into raucous laughter as Ginny bites back her own chuckle.

“I’m going to kill her.” Ron stands, nearly flipping the table in his haste, as he tears off toward the orchard. Hermione’s hot on his heels, and Draco finds his own limbs moving in the same direction.

He can barely hear Ginny’s quip as he follows his former enemies across the Burrow’s lawn,

“Looks like Rose doesn’t hate Scorpius, after all.”

[angstymarauder]

His Time of the Month {R.L} (Part 2)

Remus Lupin x Female!reader part 1

summary: You know about your boyfriends lycanthropy and you love him regardless, but sometimes the words he speaks on the days leading up to the full moon still hurt. A lot.  

word count: 1.1kish

contains: angst, troubles with self-worth, ending is left up to interpretation

a/n: the reader has trouble with self-worth in this and I would just like to say that your feelings and self-worth should NEVER EVER rely on the words of others, especially those of your loved ones. I know how hard it is to hear people, who say they love you, ridicule you, and say things that make you feel like shit. And its like - you know they don’t mean to hurt you, but it doesn't change how much pain you feel. I’ve been there (and sometimes I still go there) and while it is a big process filled with tears, cutting people off, arguments defending yourself, and just a lot a lot a lot of self-acceptance, it is possible to stop letting them get to you. YOU are the only validation you need. I love you for who you are and you should love yourself for who you are. My messages are always open, loves <3

He messed up.

And he knew he messed up, but his own mind was working against him and at that moment his rational mind couldn’t overpower the anger that had been building up all day.

Always his enemy, he wanted to blame the lycanthropy, but his rational mind knew that this was all his fault. You have been nothing but loving and understanding about everything when it came to his condition. Night after night you had sat there, taking his screaming and yelling, trying to calm him down, never leaving an argument with unresolved issues, but tonight he watched himself jump over the line that you had pushed back for his time and time again.

Remus stood in the now-empty tower, the sounds of your fading footsteps running down the stairs, each step another ache in his chest. The anger in his mind was screaming at your retreating footsteps. Words of detest, saying that you hated him. That you gave up on him. That you thought he was a monster just like everyone else. But the rational part of his mind sat in the back of his head screaming the truth over all the other noise and he knows he can’t blame you for this. He knows this is his fault. And somehow that idea just made him even angrier.

Angry at his lycanthropy. Angry at the world. Angry at everyone else.

But most of all, he was angry at himself, because he never wanted to hurt you.

Because he doesn't know what he would do without you. Losing you would be the worst thing that could ever happen to him. It would be like ripping all the pieces of his human heart straight out of his chest, leaving only the animalistic urges that show themselves once a month. Without you he might as well never transform back, find a way to stay a werewolf forever.

Suddenly Remus’ senses pick up on footsteps, coming up the stairs this time. He knew whose steps those belonged to, so when James opened the door to the West Tower, Remus was not surprised. Breathlessly, from running up all those stairs, James said “what…. the fuck …. is happening ��.up …. here?” taking a breath in between each couple of words.

Running his scarred fingers through his hair, Remus turned to look at his sweaty friend. “I fucked up. I fucked up big time.” He began pacing, the events becoming clearer and more realistic in his mind with each word, “With y/n, I fucked up big time.”

· · · ∞ · · ·

“HE SAID WHAT?” screamed Marlene, now pacing around your shared dorm room, “I’m going to kill that lanky-ass son-of-a-bitch.”

“Marls, please,” Lily spoke softly after glancing at your tired expression. Heartache tends to wear a person out.

The redhead sat down beside you at the edge of your bed, running her hand up and down your back, allowing you to relax a little more. Whispering in your ear so the others didn’t hear, she spoke, “listen, just wait until Tuesday, after the full moon once he’s all cooled down, and then talk to him, ok?”

You nodded at her words even though they barely entered your mind, your head already racing with thoughts you couldn’t bring yourself to say out loud. Lily soon ushered you to sleep, the exhaustion evident in your eyes.

But you couldn’t fall asleep. Questions floating around as your brain sprinted marathons in your head, trying to answer them, and coming up with nothing. Could you ever trust Remus again? How do you know that the next time you fight he won’t say those words again? Did he mean them? Or was it his lycanthropy? How much of these arguments can you even blame on his lycanthropy? And when does it become his fault? You can’t use his lycanthropy as an excuse for everything, but you also don’t want to use it against him….

Did he mean them? That was the question your mind kept circling back around to. Did he mean them? Are your worst fears and deepest insecurities true? Are you good enough? If the person who has told you they’re in love with you, time and time again, doesn’t think so, then how are you supposed to?

Tossing and turning, you woke up, no less tired than the night before. It took effort to get dressed that morning, almost wanting to stay in bed all day, but knowing you couldn’t. Marlene, Lily, and Mary persuaded you to breakfast in the Great Hall. You avoided Remus, in fact, you avoided all of the Marauders. Their presence, only a reminders of your bleeding heart. Remus seemed to be giving you space and, for that, you were grateful. But just the mere sight of him sent you back to your bedroom where you spent the rest of the day, claiming illness to your professors.

· · · ∞ · · ·

It was 3am, you assumed, as you got out of bed. In only your pajamas you quietly made your way through the halls without interruption. Your feet leading you to the top of the astronomy tower where you stared at the sky.

The full moon. Your voice quivered above a whisper as you cast a small silencing spell before allowing sobs to begin escaping your mouth. You thought about Remus as you stared into the moon. Hearing his howls in the distance, you couldn’t help yourself from asking the stars to keep a watch over him.

· · · ∞ · · ·

They found you passed out in the astronomy tower, Lily and Mary, your tear-stained cheeks and dark circles made your previous actions evident. Your roommates came searching for you as soon as they woke up to find your bed empty.

Mary insisted on taking you to the infirmary. Lily, as the only other girl who knew about Remus’ lycanthropy, tried to stop it, but Mary wasn’t hearing it.

Your body began to wake up, your consciousness returning to you slowly, allowing yourself to regain feeling in your fingers and your toes before attempting to open your eyes.

You’ve been in the infirmary plenty of times to visit Remus, but you’ve never been in one of the beds before. You don’t even remember how you got here. Sorting through your memories you last remember being in the astronomy tower staring at… the moon. It was the full moon last night, which means -

“Hey.” He spoke softly. You could feel his eyes staring into your figure. Remus was so surprised when he woke up in the infirmary, the night after one of his worst full moons, to see you two beds over. Your skin lacked its normal shine and tears still stained your beautiful lips. His heart ached over knowing that it was he who caused them. He knows that James said to give you some time, but seeing you here like this, he had to let you know how sorry he was.

You turn to face him, your eyes locking almost instantly, “hey.”

His eyes bore into yours, an expression of complete love, sorrow, and vulnerability filled every inch of them and as he spoke the words, “I’m sorry,” you knew they were true.

lol i was so confused on how to end this and every ending I wrote felt wrong so I'm just gonna leave it up to your imaginations, sorry

[capricorn-stark]

Othello Pt 2

pairing: jason todd x reader, reader is a psych major because i think the concept of psych majors in Gotham is funny lmao

warning: i wrote this at 1 am again, kinda long, swearing

a/n: i mention Dana Harlowe and Annie B’s diner, they’re both from RHATO’s final two issues lol. still dedicated to @tadpole-san even though she hate crimed me 

part 1

“I thought you said you wanted to get coffee,” you started when you noticed Jason veering away from where your regular coffee shop should’ve been, choosing to cut through the street and venture to a different path entirely. “Because you just-”

“Yeah, I know, I’m hungry,” he declared, slipping his hands into his pockets and tilting his head towards another row of stores illuminated with neon-lights and flickering street lamps. “This place has better stuff than overpriced coffee, promise.” You let out an exaggerated gasp of shock at that notion and he laughed, nudging your shoulder with his. 

It was always strange to be walking around Gotham during the night, but with Jason by your side, it was far less worrying than it usually was. On your own, you couldn’t even imagine traveling around the dark streets littered with muggers, petty thieves, and the occasional evil clown prince or two - one minute, you’d be speed-walking down the streets, the next minute you could end up as the lucky winner of Scarecrow’s fear-gas testing special.

You actually knew someone who had been in that very situation. They were in Arkham now.

With Jason, it was almost ridiculous how much safer you felt. It didn’t take a whole lot of observational skills to notice how the men who usually leered at you and your friends when you passed shrank and slipped into the shadows when a man over 6 feet in height and built like a tank walked past them. Jason himself was in a good mood tonight, his shoulders relaxed and a slight smile playing at his lips while he told you about the local theatrical-adaptation of Othello that was currently under production near Gotham University. 

You were getting used to seeing him like this - not so moody, smiling, present - but you had also noticed the expressions he had when no one was looking, when he wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, when his gaze had a certain intensity to them that you hadn’t ever quite seen before. He didn’t really like talking about himself or his life, preferring to keep conversations centered around school or you. The few times you had tried asking about his family and work had all led to him clamming up and quickly dropping the subject, his body language rigid and completely closed-off, the crease by his brows deepening as his expression transformed into a scowl. It was the first time you realized that Jason Todd could actually be genuinely scary - and the first time you realized there was a much, much darker side of him that you weren’t sure if you wanted to see.

You knew it wasn’t your place to pry, and you had never brought it up since - but you couldn’t help but wonder just what had happened to make someone like him so angry. 

“...and I figured we could - did you just zone out on me?”

You snapped back into attention at his rather dramatic tone, flinching out of your character analysis to pay actual mind to the man in question himself. 

“No, I just-” 

“Yeah? What did I just say?” Jason challenged, grasping your arm to pull you away from the traffic lane you had nearly walked right into. His disbelieving expression made your face burn red - but much to your relief (and embarrassment), he was laughing. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t completely zoned out-” 

“After you literally walked into traffic? Yeah, I can tell,” he deadpanned, tugging you towards him right as the cars slowed to a halt, the pedestrian signal blinking above you. The sudden action and the sudden closeness made your face heat up - something he apparently noticed when his bright green eyes flickered across your features and caused a smirk to tug at his lips. Instead of the teasing you had braced yourself for, you watched as he tilted his head towards the diner across the street, letting go of your arm. “It’s right over there, c’mon.” 

He was already moving towards the crosswalk when you shook yourself out of your stupor, quickly moving to catch up with him and glancing up at the diner. The big glowing red letters on the sign beside it read “Annie B’s”. 

“They got good food,” he explained at your questioning look, leaning forwards to swing the door open for you. “I used to hang around here a lot when I was a kid.” 

“I don’t think I’ve actually seen this place before,” you commented, entering and hearing Jason close the door behind him, taking a quick glance around before you took a seat in one of the cherry-red and white leather booths. “Kinda wish I had.”

The entire diner had a vintage touch to it, from the luminescent pink and blue lights lining the ceilings to the multicolored tile floors, the cherry-red barstools, and even the jukebox in the corner cranking out old-timey tunes. There were only a few other people sitting at the bar and chilling in a booth a few down from your own, all too absorbed in their own worlds to pay much mind to the two of you. You could hear the sizzling of the food being made back in the kitchen, emitting a heavenly aroma that made your stomach growl not-so subtly. Jason laughed as he slid down across from you, sliding one delicate paper menu over as he scanned over the other. 

“Pretty cool, huh? And like I said, they got great food.” He nodded at your stomach and you rolled your eyes, eliciting another laugh from him. “Knock yourself out, ‘cus dinner’s on me.” Before you could open your mouth to object, the kitchen doors flew open and a woman stepped out holding a heaping tray of food. 

“One chicken fried steak with a side of mashed potatoes and rings,” she announced as she set down the trays in front of a man sitting a few booths down, already moving to refill his glass with a pitcher of water. “Enjoy your dinner, Phil.” 

“Thanks, Dana,” the man told her as he picked up his fork and gave her a crooked-toothed grin, already digging into his food. “Always do.” 

“I sure hope so,” the lady agreed, moving to walk back towards the kitchen before catching sight of them. She broke into a grin at the sight of Jason sending her a playful salute, changing course to head towards their booth instead. “Well, look who it is!” she exclaimed, securing her curly black hair out of her face with an orange-and-green bandana as she stopped in front of them. “Jason Todd decided to drop by for a little visit, did he? And he brought a friend.” 

The sight of her beaming at you was too contagious for you to not smile back up at her in return.

“Hi, Dana,” Jason grinned, nodding at you as she looked between the two of you. “This is Y/N. Y/N, Dana Harlowe. Her dad runs this place.” 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Dana told you with another grin, leaning forwards to shake your hand in greeting. “When I decided to help out at the diner tonight, I wasn’t expecting a miracle. I definitely didn’t think this boy would ever walk in here with a date of all things-”

“Oh as if,” Jason scoffed loudly as the two of you laughed, face reddening beneath the bright colored lights. “Have you seen me? I was born a lady-killer.” He shot you a wink and you sent him another playful eye roll.

“Yeah, you sure killed me alright.” Dana burst out laughing again as Jason immediately let out a protest of betrayal at your words.

“I like you,” she decided when she finally managed to straighten, taking out her notepad and pen with another brilliant smile. “Did y’all decide what you wanted yet, or do you need another minute?” Jason glanced over at you and you nodded back up at her.

“Sure, I’m ready.” 

Dana headed back into the kitchen for your food after you ordered, leaving the two of you to sit in a comfortable, familiar silence, the sound of forks scraping against porcelain plates and vintage beats being the only disruptors. 

“I used to hear these songs on Gotham City Radio all the time,” Jason finally began after taking a sip of his water, fixating his gaze back on you as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the leather seat. “Growing up, I mean. I still do, sometimes.” 

“Classic jazz?” You grinned, taking a small sip of your own water in turn. “You? I didn’t get that vibe from you.” He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck with a slight shrug.

“At my old place, I had, uh, a butler. He wasn’t really a butler, honestly, he was more like a dad than anything. Or, like, a really cool grandpa. He had a whole rack of guns and shit he kept polished in this big cabinet thing-” You raised a brow, attempting to hide your amusement by taking another sip of water. You were a little surprised that he had actually started talking about his family at all - you weren’t about to ruin it, and boy, did you want to know more about the guy. “And he used to play that station all the time at home, GC Radio Classics. I guess I kinda missed hearing it.” 

“He does sound pretty cool,” you admitted with a smile, setting the glass back down. “Do you still visit him?” Jason hesitated a few moments before attempting a nonchalant shrug. You noticed the tightness in his body language again, the same sort of tightness you saw when he was closing up around you. 

“Not much anymore,” he finally said, letting his shoulders drop a little bit. “It’s been...a while. Just got some shit going on.” You watched him take another drink before you spoke again.

“If you ever want to talk about it with me - or talk about anything, really - you can, Jason.” It wasn’t just the products of your psych major showing through you - you meant your words, and the slight smile playing at his lips seemed to signal that he had understood that as well. 

“Don’t worry about it, seriously. But thanks.” You nodded, looking up again when the kitchen doors flew open once again, Dana heading out towards your table with another two trays heaped with mouth-watering food. 

“And here you go,” she smiled as she set your respective meals down before you, taking your glasses to refill them as well. “Enjoy your food, you two. Call me over if there’s anything else you need, yeah?” You both thanked Dana as she sashayed away again, letting the doors swing shut behind her once again after checking up on the rest of her customers. 

Neither of you wasted any time digging into the food as soon as it appeared, finishing most of it in mere minutes like the starving university students you were, breaking the silence with the occasional offer at trying something the other had gotten. The aroma had been no false-alarm - it tasted even better than you had anticipated, and that was certainly saying something. Savory fries, buttery biscuits, and smoky burgers were better than anything else you had in a while. 

“How did I not find this place sooner?” you sighed as you pressed a napkin to your lips, leaning back against your seat as you tried to process just how full you really felt. At this rate, you would have to roll your way out of the place. “I know you said it was gonna be good, but I didn’t expect it to be this good.”

“I told you,” Jason grinned as he finished up the last of his burger and fries, crumpling up his own napkins and setting them into the tray to throw away. “I know good food places! I grew up around these streets.”

“So did I!” you protested as he laughed and stood up to throw all the trash away, setting the trays back where they were supposed to go and pulling out his wallet just as Dana appeared by the kitchen’s window with two milkshakes. 

“You can count these on the house,” she told him as she slid them over, ignoring his protests and sending you a wink as you stood up from the booth as well. “Enjoy your night - and it was real nice meeting you, Y/N. Todd, I better be seeing you around more often.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he deadpanned, his smile warm as she waved them out anyways. “Thanks, Dana.” 

You called out a thanks to her as well, tightening your jacket around you as you left the warmth of the diner and felt the chill of Gotham’s dreary night hit you once more. Jason handed you your milkshake, bringing his own straw to his lips and taking a sip. 

“You guys seem close,” you noted with a smile as you took a sip yourself, relishing the cold, sweet taste of the shake in delight. Jason chuckled at that, shrugging as you walked along the illuminated sidewalks in no particular direction. 

“She’s like an annoying sister to me. I’ve known her since I was a puny kid.” You watched as the corners of his mouth curled into a slight smile as he took another sip. “Dana, her sister, and her dad were good to me growing up. They’re great people.”

That, you had been able to tell just from meeting the woman herself. 

“I liked meeting her. She was pretty cool.” He chuckled again and spared you another glance. “And thanks, by the way, for dinner tonight. It really was really good. And way better than just coffee.”

“I told you,” he grinned, flickering those brilliant green eyes across your face again. “I know where the good spots around Gotham are. We don’t have a lot of them, but when we do have them, they’re pretty damn good.” That elicited a laugh from you and Jason stopped beneath one of the streetlamps lining the sidewalk. 

“You did better than I expected, Todd.” He made a big show of popping his collar and scoffing at your comment.

“What, you expected me to not impress you? Do you think that low of me?” 

“That theatre minor of yours is really starting to make an entrance, you can put it away now-” 

“Hey!” You burst out laughing and he couldn’t help but join. You felt pretty sure that he looked the happiest right then and there than you had ever really seen him - whatever that might’ve meant. Pretty soon, your laughter was residing and he had taken a slight step forwards, a cheeky grin still plastered on his face. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” 

You looked back up at him with a nonchalant shrug despite fighting back another smile yourself. 

“Yeah, it was a pretty good night.” His gaze flickered towards your lips before settling back on your face. 

“Yeah?” The sounds of honking cars and the murmurs of people walking past all around you felt like they were being drowned out somehow when you felt him get a little bit closer. The smile tugged at the corner of your mouth again.

“Yeah.” Another moment passed before Jason finally closed the distance between you, meeting your lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss for a man who looked like he could snap a baseball bat with his bare hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck after yet another moment, feeling him draw you even closer to him at the action. 

Literally and figuratively, it was a sweet kiss. The milkshake truly had done wonders. 

You were a little breathless when he finally pulled away, and you hoped the shitty streetlight would keep him from seeing just how red your face had gone. Jason was grinning at your reaction, rubbing the back of his neck.

“C’mon, that was better than pretty good.”

“Shut up,” you told him immediately, swatting his arm and moving to continue your walk again as he laughed and easily moved to catch up to you, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“It was! You gotta admit it, that was pretty great-”

“Shut up, Jason.” 

Just like that, once again, you had Othello of all things to thank for your night. Maybe, just maybe, it hadn’t been such a terrible book after all. 

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 6

Helmetless + Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary: Three things happen at once. 

He pulls his glove off and tosses it aside. You forget how to breathe.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,114

Warnings: Swearing, backstory, angsty angst, fluffy fluff, mutual pining finally acknowledged, overuse of italics, don’t mess with Din’s Cupid or he’ll kill you

Author Note: Important please read this! Ok, so if you’ve been following along you’ll know I had no outline for this originally. And well, that’s come back to bite me. I had to make an edit to Part 2, a small one but still the very beginning will look marginally different if you’ve read it before today’s date Dec. 16, 2020. Basically, I took away the implication that You don’t know exactly how You became a Cupid. So, yeah. Hopefully moving forward I’ll be better handling all this *awkward shuffling*. As always, thank you for all the support and I appreciate every one of you so much ❤

Links to Part 1 and Part 5 and Part 7

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

Silence floods the ship in the wake of your admission, stifling and charged with enough tension you fear breathing too loud will set off a chain reaction with disastrous results. It makes the hair on the back of your neck prickle, every instinct inside of you screaming to teleport away, if only so you no longer have to see Din stubbornly trying and failing to hide his internal turmoil behind a mask of indifference. 

When he opens his mouth, you tense but the question slices through you all the same. “When?”

You hesitate, making a face. “Din, we really don’t have time for this. Let’s just move on—”

Without warning, the hand holding your elbow slides to your wrist and twists, turning your palm up for inspection. Din stares at the blank expanse of skin, then slowly his gaze lifts, and he releases you as if you’ve poisoned him.

“You’ve never lied to me before, angel. Did you honestly think now was the best time to start?” he asks, and something breaks inside of you when he looks at you as if you’ve become a total stranger to him.

But before any pain can begin to sink in, anger overcomes you as his assumption registers.

“I’m not lying, you asshole,” you say sharply, feeling a faint pulse of petty satisfaction when you notice the subtle way his stance shifts defensively, betraying his surprise at your boldness. Resting your hands on your hips, you fix him with your fiercest glare. “For all that you are a powerful ancient being of the universe, you are also the biggest, most ignorant fool I’ve ever met. You have absolutely no idea how Cupids become Cupids, do you?”

You don’t offer him even a second to respond, too wound up and fueled by the overwhelming desire to make him get it. To make him understand you’re not purposefully trying to hurt him. If it were up to you, you’d make sure he never felt any kind of pain. But that would require having a choice and that is the one thing the universe did not grant you as a Cupid.

“Every Cupid was once a mortal with a soulmate,” you explain, choosing each word with careful precision while watching his face to make sure his focus never wavers. “And every one of us was rejected by them. When we die, we’re transformed into Cupids, losing our soulmate markings in the process.” When you feel your bottom lip begin to wobble, you pause to take a steadying breath. “You asked me before, what is the true purpose of a Cupid? It’s to help others find the kind of love we never experienced for ourselves.”

Din stands there in front of you, still staring passively, and you’re scared for a moment your words have made no difference, but then his jaw clenches so tightly you hear his teeth grinding. 

“You were rejected?” he growls, vicious and guttural, the sound of a feral beast.

He pivots, fist colliding with the wall with enough force it dents the metal beneath his knuckles. You flinch at the noise, shocked at the abuse he’s inflicted upon his beloved ship. Every bone in his hand should have shattered upon impact, but because Death is immune to such damage he merely turns back to you, breathing raggedly and eyes blackened with rage.

“Tell me his name.”

You’ve already begun shaking your head before you say, “So you can go hunt him down? Hell no. Trust me, it doesn’t matter.”

Instead of pacifying him, this only infuriates him further. “How can you say that? That bastard broke your heart when he was supposed to cherish you, protect you, love you above all else.”

“You think I don’t know that?” you ask peevishly, letting your temper get the better of you. Sparing a moment to mentally count to ten, you quietly reveal, “I can say it doesn’t matter because I don’t even remember who he was. There is no point sending you to kill someone who’s face I can’t pick out of a crowd.”

The sudden way Din’s whole body slumps in response to the news, like a puppet whose strings have been cut, expression scrunched and dumbfounded, would have made you laugh if the circumstances were entirely different. Being what they are, you can only meet his stare evenly, silently assuring him you’re not joking in the slightest.

“I don’t understand,” Din says at last, looking like he wants to approach but is unsure you’ll welcome his nearness so he keeps his distance. “You never told me you had memory loss before. What happened to you?”

You shrug helplessly. “I don’t know. For as long as I’ve been a Cupid, all my memories from my mortal life have dark spots, like something poked holes in them.”

Din glances away as he mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like ‘Or someone’ but before you can comment, his tone rises to its usual volume as he says, “Is this why you collect all those old newspapers? To try to help you remember?”

You recall with embarrassment him having previously commented on the pile in your living room. That moment feels like years ago, the two of you sitting in your apartment and Din asking...if Cupids were on the list of potential soulmates. Was that his way of asking if you were on the list? Surely not. He’s much cleverer than that.

...Isn’t he?

“I just,” you shake your head, refocusing on the current conversation. “I keep thinking maybe I’ll find something that fills in the gaps. I don’t like this pit in my stomach, this feeling that I’ve forgotten something important.” You huff a self-deprecating chuckle. “Other than my soulmate, I mean.”

He offers you a smile, small and lopsided, likely meant to be consoling, but you see right through it. You see his pain in the tightness around his mouth, in the way his fingers flex at his sides like it’s taking all his self-control not to reach out to you. Your confession has hurt him. Badly. It’s the kind of hurt no amount of bacta can heal.

The silence returns, different than the one usually experienced during hyperspace in that it wishes to be broken, for someone to say something, anything. You would grant its wish except your thoughts are a jumbled mess inside your head. Deep down, there is a part of you which knows there is nothing you can say that will fix this—this being the chasm forming between you and Din, widening with every passing second spent staring wordlessly at each other. 

Would telling him sooner have prevented this heartbreak? Probably. But looking back, you can’t think of an opportune moment. You had never thought your crush could be requited—not just because you were already matched, but also because it had always seemed so ridiculous, imagining the great and powerful Death feeling anything remotely close to affection for an unimportant, low-ranking Cupid. 

“Angel,” Din begins after a few minutes, his voice anchoring you back in the present. He’s staring over your shoulder, brow furrowed thoughtfully and you can practically hear the gears turning inside his head. “Earlier, you said you didn’t tell your boss I was your client. Why didn’t you?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stutter, before an unexpected wave of boldness comes over you. Digging your finger into the armor on his chest, you remind him, “You came to me first, remember? Not them. So, I figured you didn’t want them knowing.”

“I couldn’t care less who knows,” Din deadpans.

“Oh.” You blink, hand falling back along your side, because what else can you say.

“You want to know what I think?” Oh Maker, he’s stepping closer until there’s only a foot of space between you two. His voice is a low, raspy murmur, sending your heartbeat into overdrive. “I think you didn’t want them knowing because you like being the only angel who does.”

You start to squirm, fight or flight instincts at total war with each other. His theory isn’t too far from the truth, making it all the worse hearing it out loud because it practically oozes possessiveness which is exactly what you’d feared.

“Before you pull away from me again,” Din continues, knowing you and your mind too damn well. “I want you to listen when I say nothing that you’ve told me changes how I feel about you.”

“Din—” you try, only for your voice to crack.

Then three things happen at once.

He pulls his glove off and tosses it aside. You forget how to breathe.

“I’ve been alone my entire existence and I kept telling myself that was how the universe intended it to be. That I couldn’t love anyone because I kill everything I touch.” A smile pulls at his lips when he looks down at his bare hand and a note of awe slips into his voice. “Then you came along, beautiful and clumsy and unafraid to call me out for being an ass. I started looking forward to each full moon because it meant I got to see you and admire every new detail about your life you chose to share with me. And then when this appeared,” he nods towards the soulmate marking, gleaming faintly beneath the overhead lighting, “all I could think of was you.”

You feel your throat becoming thick as you blink back tears, inhaling sharply through your nose. “Why didn’t you say anything at the train station? Why would you let me try to set you up with matches if you liked me that way?”

Din grimaces, abashed. “Because after you said there weren’t any Cupids on your list, I realized you didn’t know I liked you. I convinced myself I had to show you how I felt, instead of tell you. Although,” he holds up a finger, backtracking, “I actually almost did confess, on our way to Sorgan, but you stopped me. And that just further convinced me actions spoke louder than words. I knew none of the people you found me could ever compare with you, so I thought once you saw each unsuccessful connection, you’d realize the only hand I want to hold is yours.”

“Din, it can’t be me.” Your protest is weak, on the verge of caving in, forcing you to try another angle. “I can’t have two soulmates.”

He inhales a breath so sharp and unexpected, it startles your poor heart into skipping a beat.

Din looks at you like you’ve gifted him all the stars in the galaxy, brown eyes blown wide with hope. “Angel, do you mean it? That you consider me—”

“Of course, you idiot.” You attempt a laugh, but it comes out sounding broken and forced. “As Death, as Din, as whoever you want to be, I’ll always consider you. But...what if what happened on Sorgan happens to us? What if the universe doesn’t favor us?”

“I just want to be yours.” Din extends his hand towards you. “And if that means breaking the universe’s rules, then fuck it. We’ll make up our own. Together.”

Time seems to stand still, like you’ve entered a realm separate from the rest of the universe where you’re able to forget you have a complicated past, filled with holes and a soulmate who rejected you. Here it’s just you, Din, and his offer to love you unconditionally. Here you have a choice.

And it’s the easiest one you’ve ever made.

You slowly lift up your hand to hover in front of his, fingers trembling as they uncurl.

“Together,” you whisper.

And then your hands are moving to meet one another, closer and closer until his fingertips brush yours, sending a spark of warmth through your nervous system. Oh, Maker, you had described what you imagined a soulmate connection was like, but you had no idea this is the true experience. It’s like a sunrise dissolving midnight skies, lighting up your surroundings with breathtaking vibrancy. You can’t fathom how you survived all this time being in his presence without feeling his touch.

“Dank farrik,” he mutters hoarsely, sounding just as overwhelmed and awestruck as you feel.

You open your mouth, but instead of words a whimper of agony escapes instead. That lovely warmth spreading from your linked hands has started to boil, white-hot and furious. It’s as if all your internal parts have caught fire and are slowly withering to ash—your organs, your bones, even your kriffing blood. 

Your body crumples and Din cries out your name, but you don’t get to hear him say it, unconscious before your head collides with the floor.

Tag List:  @leilei-draws​, @theocatkov​, @becauseican2, @vintagesaph​, @stardust-and-starlight​, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @adrieunor​, @remmyswritings​, @gallowsjoker​, @rhiannon-russo​, @randomness501​, @eleine-t1d​, @nicotinebirds, @sylphene​, @softly-sad​, @maytheglitter​, @melobee, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @eleinemk, @captain-jebi, @aerynwrites, @promiscuoussatan

[gusu-emilu]

Ship: Wei Wuxian / Wen Ning

Summary: Wei Wuxian gives Wen Ning a heartbeat, but not in the way either of them expected.

Rated T, No Warnings Apply

POV Wen Ning, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, references to WWX's poor health, First Kiss, Pining, Cuddling, Presumably Unrequited Love, or more accurately: whatever these two have going on, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, and the inherent homoeroticism of necromancy

Ch. 1/2, 6k, read on AO3 above or on Tumblr below

Wen Ning has always known that Wei Wuxian is not someone to hesitate.

The moment Wen Ning enters the Demon Subdue Palace after packing up the last sack of turnips, Wei Wuxian grabs his wrist.

“Come look!” He tugs Wen Ning deeper into the cave, slender fingers wrapped around Wen Ning’s wrist. He grins at Wen Ning over his shoulder. “I’ve made some more demonic devices, probably my best batch yet. I’d like to see the impersonators down in the town copy these!”

Wen Ning steadies his balance, not fully recovered from Wei Wuxian suddenly whisking him away.

Wei Wuxian has never hesitated to touch him. Wen Ning still isn’t quite used to it, having grown up in a family of doctors whose every touch felt calculated, and among clansmen more focused on war and strength than friendship. Clansmen who rarely respected him, never mind showed him affection.

Even now, he exists in a constant state of volatility due to his outbursts of resentful energy. Every family member in the Burial Mounds is careful around him, even A-Yuan at times.

But not Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian is entirely different. Has always been different.

The first time they spoke, Wei Wuxian had already been comfortable with casual touch. Wei Wuxian hadn’t hesitated to lay hands on him to adjust his archery posture—steady hands he can still imagine on his upper arm and around the side of his ribs, friendly pressure like a heavy quilt, as Wei Wuxian comforted and praised him.

Then the war began, and Wei Wuxian choked him in Lotus Pier—furious, merciless hands like paws of a frightened animal. Wei Wuxian hadn’t hesitated then, either. He would’ve fully choked Wen Ning had he not held back enough to let him speak.

Then the war ended. Now Wei Wuxian uses him as an armrest, fixes his hair, arranges talismans on him, even once tried to pick him up and carry him as a joke. (He'd been a bit too weak to manage it for long. Wen Ning hadn’t thought that part was funny.) Now he drags Wen Ning around by the hand, all without hesitation.

Had Wei Wuxian hesitated before raising him from the dead?

Wen Ning isn’t sure which answer would comfort him.

“Take a look at this one,” Wei Wuxian says as he places a stone tablet in Wen Ning’s hand. A faint black cloud winds around the tablet, the smoke’s path tracing the red fulu writings carved into its surface. “Still pretty weak, but I’m getting closer to replicating yin iron with just regular stone.”

Wen Ning glances back and forth between the tablet and Wei Wuxian’s tired but enthusiastic smile. His eyes are bright with joy, but dark circles frame them. He hasn’t eaten much in the past few days, instead focusing relentlessly on his experiments, despite needing to save energy to heal the stab wound from Jiang Wanyin.

But Wen Ning still hasn’t figured out how to make him rest. Maybe admiring the new batch of demonic devices will help calm his inventive frenzy.

He nods, giving a small smile at Wei Wuxian. “That’s good.”

“Weak yin iron will be much easier to use. Better for small applications here and there, less dangerous…” Wei Wuxian squats by the scattered piles of demonic cultivation tools and notes, rummaging through to find another invention, the tablet already forgotten.

The black cloud around the tablet continues to swirl, small wisps seeping into Wen Ning’s skin. The tablet feels more like a block of dust than like stone, but despite his dulled senses, he notices…something else. A second sensation.

A throb.

“Wei-gongzi?”

“Yeah?” Wei Wuxian says, squinting at a page of especially messy notes.

“Does…does this have a pulse?” The stone continues to throb weakly, more of a resonance than a physical sensation, its aura cold like resentful energy.

Wei Wuxian looks up from the papers, one eyebrow raised. “It’s still doing that?” He stands and takes the tablet, examines it. “Hm. This might be good! I’ll have to find out what flow pattern of resentful energy caused this.”

Wen Ning closes his hand. Strangely, he wishes for the tablet to still be pulsing against his palm. It had felt kind of pleasant, if disturbing. “Resentful energy can create a heartbeat?”

“Well, it’s not exactly a heartbeat. But yes, if channeled the right way.”

“…Does that mean I have one?” Behind his back to prevent Wei Wuxian from noticing, he presses three fingers to the inside of his wrist, where years ago Jiejie had taught him how to read the flow of his blood. A black vein of resentful energy now covers those lifeless pulse points. “I’ve never felt it.”

Wei Wuxian turns the tablet between his hands thoughtfully. “No…you don’t have a heartbeat.” Then he grins, one of those sly grins that crosses his handsome face slowly, as if an idea has rushed into him so quickly that he needs to pace his smile just to contain it. Wen Ning doesn’t like those grins, because they make something flutter inside him.

“At least, not yet!” Wei Wuxian adds. “Do you want one? I could figure something out—”

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine without one.” The last thing Wei Wuxian needs is another project to stay up all night for—least of all an unnecessary project that Wen Ning requested by accident. Wei Wuxian has done enough for him already.

“I’m serious!” Wei Wuxian says. “It shouldn’t be too hard. I can test it right now.” He trails a finger over the blood-red writing on the tablet and mutters a few words under his breath. The black smoke around it thickens. “Just something temporary, to see if the idea works.” He steps closer.

Nervousness immediately jolts through Wen Ning. It’s unfortunate that death has muted the nerve endings in Wen Ning’s skin but has done nothing to quiet his anxious mind, which is always at both its most overactive and sluggish around Wei Wuxian.

Wen Ning watches the tablet’s red markings begin to glow, watches Wei Wuxian’s expression harden to a chiseled concentration.

“Come here,” Wei Wuxian says.

If Wei Wuxian’s hunch works, Wei Wuxian will ignore his health until he finishes developing the method to give Wen Ning a permanent heartbeat. If it fails, Wei Wuxian will still ignore his health, this time trying until he finds a different method.

It’s best to not let him try. To give him a firm “no.”

But Wen Ning has never been good at those. Especially when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

He has also never been good at lying to Wei Wuxian. Although he must do so for the sake of Wei Wuxian’s health, it’s hard to admit that he doesn’t miss his heartbeat.

He misses many small details of his body. Jiejie had taught him the ways of Dafan Wen medicine, made him attuned to the evidence of life in himself. He knows how fast his heart rate is supposed to be while lying in bed, knows which pressure points she once worked at to calm his anxiety, knows the irregularities of the breaths he no longer takes.

He used to like his heartbeat, his breath, their soothing rhythm as he fell asleep. It was comforting to understand that much about himself, to follow this evidence of life, when in childhood a piece of his soul had been snatched and left the rest of him a puzzle.

Now the lack of this evidence of life feels like a testimony against him.

Wei Wuxian could return some illusion of life to him. Would be happy to do so.

Selfishly, Wen Ning wants him to try. Being a walking experiment has its unsettling moments—more accurately, a constant hum of discomfort—but there is something morbidly enchanting about letting Wei Wuxian mold him into whatever he envisions. Into the magnum opus of a genius.

An even more selfish part of him wants to beg Wei Wuxian to try, because how symbolic would it be for Wei Wuxian to restore his heart, of all things…

“Wen Ning?” Wei Wuxian asks softly.

“Okay,” he answers, and instantly regrets it.

Wei Wuxian smiles again, this time the smile he saves for when he is about to tinker with the Ghost General. Wen Ning has learned all of his smiles by now, and he still doesn’t believe that there is one specially for him. But Wei Wuxian gives him that reassuring nod, the warm curve of his lips, the eager yet slightly rueful glint in his eyes, and Wen Ning can only recall seeing that expression the previous times Wei Wuxian rewrote pieces of him.

Wei Wuxian explains exactly what he’s going to do and how the resentful energy will flow. Wen Ning nods, and Wei Wuxian rests a hand on Wen Ning’s chest—casually, moving without hesitation, like always. “It won’t actually restart your heart. Just give the illusion of a pulse for a few minutes.” He furrows his brow as his focus intensifies. “That is, if it works.”

The feeling of Wei Wuxian’s hand on the center of his chest is stabilizing, yet it sets Wen Ning’s mind into disarray, despite how many times he has felt this before.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, preparing to reroute the resentful energy inside Wen Ning.

A cool stream of energy enters Wen Ning. Growing colder, gushing rapidly—

Freezing—

Then over almost instantly.

Wei Wuxian opens his eyes. “Feel any different?”

Wen Ning feels a bit dizzy, which is new. He hasn’t experienced vertigo since becoming a fierce corpse. But that fades quickly, and soon he is left with only the feeling of thick fabric pressing against his chest where Wei Wuxian’s hand rests.

He shakes his head. “Do…do you feel anything?”

Wei Wuxian shifts his hand, presses harder against Wen Ning’s chest. Waits, then sticks three fingers in the groove of Wen Ning’s neck, and that feels nice. Wen Ning almost wants to hold his hand there—

“No. I guess it didn’t work.” Wei Wuxian sounds much more tired than before. He removes his hand.

“That’s okay. I don’t need a heartbeat.”

“You want one though, yeah?” Wei Wuxian begins sifting through the inventions scattered across the cave, perhaps looking for another device, perhaps just hunting for kindling to spark an idea.

Wen Ning had been too selfish by agreeing to this. Who knows how long Wei Wuxian will research this now?

“I don’t want you to start another project,” Wen Ning says, and the faint thread of anger in his voice is stronger than he intended, even though that anger is mostly directed at himself. It's been harder to control his emotions since resentful energy began feeding them.

Wei Wuxian looks up, startled. Then he grins and gives a small laugh. “Are you turning into your jiejie now? Bossing me around…”

The joke only strengthens Wen Ning’s resolve. It reminds him that he can invoke Jiejie’s authoritativeness. He has never been good at following in his sister’s footsteps, but calling upon her immovability is almost as effective at steeling him as resentful energy. “You should sleep or come help us outside instead of always working in here.”

Wei Wuxian rubs his eyes. “I know, I know. You’ve all told me many times.” He seems to regret the slight bite in his tone. He tends to snap once in a while, the effect of stress lashing out from behind his mask, but it always dissolves as quickly as it appears.

“I’ll listen to you,” Wei Wuxian says, gently this time. Wen Ning feels a wave of relief. But then Wei Wuxian smirks and adds, “For now. I really do have some theories I want to test.”

“But—Wei-gongzi—”

Wei Wuxian rises to his feet and walks over to him. Stands and looks at him for a while, then says, almost murmurs, “I have enough projects for myself.” He tucks a strand of hair behind Wen Ning’s ear, and Wen Ning nearly melts. “Let me do something that’ll make you happy.”

This is bad. Very bad.

Wei Wuxian isn’t even telling the truth. His projects are all for the protection of Wen Ning’s family, not for himself. But the fond touch, combined with the sweetness in Wei Wuxian’s voice, is already enough to make Wen Ning bend.

He would much rather take care of Wei Wuxian than be taken care of. But if he weren’t worried about being a bother, he would tangle his hair just for Wei Wuxian to run his fingers through it, to twirl and comb and braid it the way he unravels and reorders the resentful energy inside Wen Ning.

“You really don’t need to. Getting a heartbeat was just an idea,” Wen Ning mumbles.

“And a good idea! We all need more comforts around here, don’t we?” Wei Wuxian nestles three fingers in the groove of Wen Ning’s neck to search for a pulse again, his brow knit in thought. Despite himself, Wen Ning can’t help but be glad that he can feel that touch a second time.

When Wei Wuxian experiments on him, the tugs and surges of resentful energy don’t exactly feel good. It’s like ice cracking under his skin, leaving shards that poke out of him. Or like the bony hand of a skeleton yanking at his insides, ripping him apart and rattling the pieces around.

The pain and discomfort frighten him. Remind him of what Wei Wuxian is capable of. What Wen Ning is capable of.

Yet he finds enjoyment in the fear, in the icy fingers of resentful energy, because those are the shadows of Wei Wuxian’s hands on him, reshaping him.

And before Wei Wuxian experiments on him…that feels too good. The doting—almost loving—attention, the careful examination, mumbled words, soft touches…

Wei Wuxian pulls his hand away and brings it to his own throat. His glance darts around the cave as he seems to calculate something in his mind.

Then he grabs Wen Ning’s hand and presses Wen Ning’s fingers into his neck. The sensation comes delayed, but Wen Ning feels it.

A pulse. Wei Wuxian’s pulse.

Wei Wuxian continues looking around the cave and thinking, as if this is just another ordinary step in a routine. But to Wen Ning, this is—this is—have they ever done something this intimate? How can Wei Wuxian let him feel the rhythm of his pulse, of his life force, and act like it’s nothing?

Somehow that makes it even more intimate, that Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem to mind…

Wen Ning counts the beats to himself.

Too slow. Not by much, but Wei Wuxian’s heart rate is too slow for his age, his size.

Wen Ning would make a mental note to tell Jiejie, but he knows she’s already aware. Wei Wuxian’s health has been deteriorating since he stepped back into the Burial Mounds.

“Wei-gongzi?”

“Mn?”

“I…I have a different idea.”

Wei Wuxian lifts Wen Ning’s hand from his neck, but doesn’t let go. He smiles. “What’s that?”

“You can just give me the tablet.” Wen Ning looks down at the slab of stone, thin black wisps of smoke swirling around it. “I can feel its heartbeat.”

“You don’t want your own?”

He shakes his head.

Wei Wuxian playfully taps the back of Wen Ning’s hand a few times. Four times, to be exact. Wen Ning can’t help counting. “That heartbeat isn’t very human, though.”

Neither am I, Wen Ning wants to say, but he knows Wei Wuxian will scold him if he does. “It would be more than enough,” he says instead.

“You’re going to make the Yiling Laozu feel like a fraud if you let him give you scraps and call it ‘more than enough.’” He sighs and glances down at the tablet. “But you can take it until I come up with something better.”

“Then…is there something that you don’t think is a scrap?”

Wei Wuxian brings Wen Ning’s fingers to his neck again, and the warm pulse hums through his fingertips. “Well, there’s my heartbeat.” He winks. “I’d still call that a scrap, though.”

“No it isn’t,” Wen Ning blurts.

Wei Wuxian raises his eyebrows. Then his expression turns thoughtful. “Would you rather keep feeling mine?”

Wen Ning doesn’t reply, but he knows his face says everything. Not even rigor mortis can hide the answer.

“Forget about that useless rock, then.” Wei Wuxian pats his chest. “I’ll be your heartbeat for now.”

Wen Ning is sure that if he still had blood flow, he would be flushed. Panicked energy begins to twitch inside him. “N-No, it’s okay—”

“You don’t want my finest craftsmanship, and you don’t want my scraps! What am I going to do with you?”

“Nothing,” Wen Ning answers quietly.

“Yes, something.” He takes Wen Ning’s hand and tugs him toward the slab of stone he uses as a bed. “Hm. How should we do this? Maybe—”

“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning says, exasperated. He likes that Wei Wuxian never hesitates, never slows down—it’s attractive, in a frustrating kind of way—but it often leaves Wen Ning in the dust with his mind still sputtering and struggling to function.

“Alright, sit here.” Wei Wuxian gestures toward the bed. “If you want to,” he adds.

It’s pointless to ask if Wen Ning wants to. He wonders if Wei Wuxian knows that he doesn’t need Chenqing or yin iron to make him do just about anything.

Suddenly filled with dread, a dread that he is going to like this too much, he steps forward and awkwardly sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Perfect,” Wei Wuxian murmurs. He taps Wen Ning’s knee twice. “Spread your legs.”

Now Wen Ning is certain that he would be flushed if he were alive. “S-S-Spr—what?”

“Hey.” He smirks and points a finger at Wen Ning. “Who taught you to have thoughts like that? Don’t worry. I just need you to make room for me.”

Wen Ning gets out some garbled form of “okay” and spreads his legs, creating enough space for Wei Wuxian to sit on one of his knees.

Which Wei Wuxian does.

Sit on his knee.

He also wraps his arms around Wen Ning’s neck and pulls him closer until his cheek touches Wei Wuxian’s chest.

“I can’t do all the work myself.” He cups Wen Ning’s chin. “You have to move too.”

Wen Ning swallows—by habit, since he doesn’t really need to do that anymore—and positions himself so his ear rests over Wei Wuxian’s heart. He can’t feel Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat through the robes, but the gentle sound of thum, thum seeps into him right away.

Warmth, too. A lot of warmth.

“Good?” Wei Wuxian hums.

Wen Ning makes a small noise of contentment in the back of his throat. He fiddles with his hands in his lap, trying and failing to find a good place for them that isn’t Wei Wuxian’s legs. “I hear it.”

“Only hear it?”

He opens his mouth to object, but he knows that Wei Wuxian will spot the lie before it leaves his lips.

Wei Wuxian opens the collar of his dark outer robes and lets Wen Ning rest his head on the thin red inner garment.

Even warmer. Softer.

He can feel Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat.

He hasn’t felt something like this since he was a child. It’s…not what he expects.

Jiejie had taught him how to take a person’s pulse. How to place three fingers on each wrist and find the six pulse positions corresponding to the meridians of the body, to identify the different types of pulses—their depth, width, length, strength. How sometimes the pulse feels like beads rolling along a table, while other times it feels like the crisp pluck of a guqin string, and so on, each revealing secrets of the body, guiding how to best heal the patient.

All that knowledge had once been exciting. It seems mundane, now.

The medical analogies for a pulse at the wrist, Wen Ning realizes, don’t work to describe what a heartbeat from the chest feels like when it’s pressed against his cheek.

It’s like wading in a warm stream, sunshine beating on him. The gentle lap of current, its smooth rhythm—thum, thum—like the most natural and simple form of expression.

Wen Ning wishes Jiejie had instead taught him how to decipher a person’s soul by listening to their heartbeat, because with this strange, steady language reverberating in his ear, it almost seems possible.

“Now?” Wei Wuxian asks.

Wen Ning doesn’t make a sound this time.

He counts Wei Wuxian’s heartbeats and tries to guess how many fit into a minute. They remain like that, long after Wen Ning loses count, with Wei Wuxian’s warm body in his lap. They both relax, and Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat eventually fades into Wen Ning, like it’s his own.

His awareness returns when he notices Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat slowing even more. He pulls away, immediately missing the comforting solidness of Wei Wuxian’s chest, and looks up to see a calm, drowsy expression on Wei Wuxian’s face. His eyes are heavy-lidded and almost fully closed.

“We’ve been telling you,” Wen Ning says softly. “You don’t sleep enough.”

Wei Wuxian rubs his eyes. “You really are becoming bossy.”

“I just want you to take care of yourself.”

“You and your jiejie are like a pair of vultures. Circling me when I’m weak and picking at me!” He gives a wan smile and reaches around Wen Ning’s back to rub his shoulder. “But I appreciate that you care about me.”

Wen Ning absorbs the feeling of Wei Wuxian stroking his shoulder, the thrum of Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat still lingering in his ear. “I appreciate that you care about me, too,” he mumbles.

He’s not sure if Wei Wuxian hears, but figures he knows anyway.

* * *

The next day, Wei Wuxian lets Wen Ning listen again.

And the day after.

And the day after that.

It becomes a pattern, as reliable as the beat of Wei Wuxian’s heart. Wei Wuxian is more likely to skip a meal or lose a night of sleep than he is to shirk his self-proclaimed “heartbeat duty,” and Wen Ning begins to wonder if Wei Wuxian likes it as much as he does.

Then Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli show up in Yiling.

That night, Wei Wuxian drinks like he wants to waterboard himself.

He forgets about heartbeat duty after that. Wen Ning lets him.

* * *

Two weeks later, Wen Ning brings a medicinal draught Jiejie prepared to the Demon Subdue Palace. The sun outside sank long ago, leaving behind deep blues and browns that bleed into the entrance of the cave. A single candle flickers on a rock shelf in the cave wall, illuminating the craggy wall and the floor strewn with bits of metal and wood and crumpled talismans.

Astoundingly, Wei Wuxian is not hunched in the corner scribbling away. He’s in bed scribbling away, his sleeves rolled up and his tied-back hair slightly disheveled the way they are when he digs in the mud pond for the lotus pods that won’t grow.

He hadn’t come out to farm since the day before. Wen Ning wonders if he’s fixed his sleeves or his hair since then.

Wen Ning steps over as quietly as he can manage with his clumsy feet and waits beside the bed, holding the draught with both hands and feeling a faint sensation of its warmth. “Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian presses the wooden end of his brush into the corner of his mouth. “Do you know how to make a Spirit-Attraction Flag attract only ghosts of a certain age?”

“…No.”

“Mn. I—wait—” He cuts off and draws what looks like disjointed pieces of an array scribbled in the margins around rejected brushstrokes.

Wen Ning lets him write for a while, then says, “My jiejie made this for you to drink.”

“And why,” Wei Wuxian asks without a pause in his writing, “is she spending resources on me instead of saving them for A-Yuan and the others?”

“You need medicine, too. Because your stab wound still hasn't healed, and—and Jiejie says your body still isn’t used to not having a gold—”

Wei Wuxian abruptly stops writing. Wen Ning clamps his mouth shut, and wishes he hadn’t said anything.

With a lack of pleasure that he fails to hide, Wei Wuxian scribbles a few more things, then stands up, slices a cut in his finger, and begins trailing red lines on a Spirit-Attraction Flag. “I’m going down the mountain to test this.” He looks over at Wen Ning with a softened expression and walks out of the cave.

Wen Ning doesn’t need him to say that it’s an invitation to follow. He always accompanies Wei Wuxian down the mountain. He’d rather Wei Wuxian sleep, but at least leaving the Burial Mounds always puts him in a better mood.

After they pass through the final protective array and the forest around the path begins to change from grim black leafless trees to green trees shaded blue by moonlight, Wei Wuxian seems to relax. But instead of testing the flag in the clearing where he usually does, he continues walking.

They reach the edge of the forest. A few clouds in the sky hide some of the stars, but the moon is out, a bright half of a silver coin. They pass the town from a distance, still close enough to see amber dots of light from the few lanterns lit at this time of night, but far enough that even Wen Ning’s sharp vision can’t discern clear shapes of the buildings. Wei Wuxian stares at the town once in a while, as if he can see something in the muddied blocks of light.

They enter a different patch of forest and stray just far enough inside for tree branches to reach across the sky again.

Wei Wuxian holds up the flag and examines it.

He lowers the flag to his side.

“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning says quietly.

“Yes?”

“Did you…”

He trails off when Wei Wuxian begins slowly rolling up the thin canvas. “I think I just wanted to go for a walk,” he says. “I’ll let the spirits rest today.” He sets the folded flag on a large rock and sits on the ground, his back against the stone, looking out at the plains and town from the recesses of the forest.

“I like walking with you,” Wen Ning says, and sits beside him.

Wei Wuxian usually buries his sorrow in his projects, in the crop fields, in his games with A-Yuan. This aimlessness is the closest glimpse Wen Ning sees of Wei Wuxian’s true state of mind. Wei Wuxian ensures that he is alone whenever he truly lets in his sorrow, but Wen Ning accompanies him during the times when he comes close. As if Wei Wuxian wants him to see—wants someone to see—but refuses to reveal everything.

No one else but Wen Ning has sat next to Wei Wuxian while he draws portraits for no particular reason (he never shows them to Wen Ning, but Wen Ning can guess whom he draws), no one else has slept across the cave from him while he mumbles in his sleep, no one else has wandered down the mountain at night with him.

Wen Ning doesn’t know if he should feel privileged or worried that Wei Wuxian lets him see this much.

He doesn’t think he deserves to know Wei Wuxian’s deepest thoughts, but he wants Wei Wuxian to pass more sorrow onto him, let him shoulder some of the pain. Wen Ning’s heart is dead, he can take it.

“Wen Ning,” Wei Wuxian says. He smooths his robes, adjusts his fitted sleeves. “I haven’t done heartbeat duty in a while, have I?”

“You don’t need to.”

“Maybe I want to.”

Wen Ning looks down at his knees, but Wei Wuxian scoots closer.

With their backs against the rock, Wei Wuxian hugs him in, rests his hand on the side of Wen Ning’s head, cradling him against his chest. Wen Ning tucks his arms away, trying not to touch Wei Wuxian, but Wei Wuxian takes one of his hands.

“It’s okay,” Wei Wuxian says.

Wen Ning waits a moment, wishing he had proper breath to steady himself, then carefully wraps his arms around Wei Wuxian, nestling close to his slender frame.

It feels different this time. Not because their position is different, or because Wuxian’s heartbeat is any faster or slower, stronger or weaker.

There is no purpose this time. It isn’t for Wen Ning to experience sensations more fully. It isn’t for Wei Wuxian to find comfort.

They are just two bodies cast aside from life, bodies that struggled to catch each other during their fall until they landed in each other’s embrace.

Holding Wei Wuxian feels as natural as his heartbeat, as inevitable as each thrum beneath where Wen Ning rests his head.

And just as fleeting.

Wei Wuxian is more alive than any person he knows, yet is wasting away more each day, having given up everything to protect the Dafan Wen.

And Wei Wuxian is not his. Only one thing ties them together: they have each made the other into a member of the living dead.

With whom did it start? Was it Wei Wuxian, who brought Wen Ning back as a fierce corpse, or was it Wen Ning, who held Wei Wuxian down as his core was removed? Or was it the world that did this to both of them?

But despite the thread of shared death that ties them together, Wei Wuxian could break that connection if he wanted to.

Wen Ning is bound to his family, bound to this unnatural body, bound to Chenqing's laments. He can never reenter the world.

But Wei Wuxian...

One day, Wei Wuxian may have the chance to belong in the world again. With his shidi and shijie, with Lan Wangji.

Wen Ning will always be banished to the margins of the world.

“How long are you going to live with us?” Wen Ning finds himself asking.

Leaves rustle quietly in the forest, clouds disappearing above their heads to reveal more stars against the dark liquid sky. An owl hoots questioningly far behind them.

“Until tomorrow,” Wei Wuxian says. “Ask me again tomorrow, and I’ll tell you again.”

“I can’t ask you that every day.”

“Then don’t ask me at all.” He strokes Wen Ning’s hair, over the back of his head and down his back. “I’m not leaving.”

Wei Wuxian continues playing with Wen Ning’s hair, running his fingers through it, stopping occasionally to work out a tangle. Not for the first time, Wen Ning wishes he could feel touch more strongly. He had dreamt of moments like these as a teenager, gentle caresses from Wei Wuxian, impossible moments. He hadn’t realized he would receive them one day after they had given up their lives for each other.

“When do you think we’ll get our next visitor?” Wei Wuxian asks. “Think I can make that Spirit-Attraction Flag into a Guest-Attraction Flag?” He chuckles. “We can hang it at the ridge. People will be drawn from miles to come talk to us. Tell Uncle Four to get lots of fruit wine ready." He fiddles with the sleeve of Wen Ning's robe. "I’ll have you test out the flag. Wear it like a cloak, and go walk around Yiling to see how many friends you make.”

“I can barely get anyone to buy turnips from me.”

“Change of plans, then! I’ll make a Customer-Attraction Flag, and we’ll finally be rich.”

Wen Ning smiles. “What are we going to buy once we’re rich?”

“Toys for A-Yuan.” Wei Wuxian rubs across Wen Ning’s shoulders, back and forth. “Every toy in Yiling.”

“We should buy every toy in Lanling, too.”

“That’ll need a lot more money. We’ll have to grow bigger turnips.”

“A giant one.”

“A single giant turnip?” Now there is real laughter in Wei Wuxian’s voice. “I’ll have to plant you as the seed to grow something big enough. Don’t tell your jiejie. Although she might figure it out when you disappear, and meanwhile a turnip the size of the Burial Mounds takes over Yiling.”

“I still won’t tell her.”

Wei Wuxian makes a low humming sound. “I can always count on you.”

Wen Ning melts more into Wei Wuxian’s embrace, surrounded by his warmth.

“Too bad that no matter who we bury in the lotus pond,” Wei Wuxian says with a sigh, “those plants still don’t want to sprout.” This time he doesn’t rub Wen Ning’s back or fiddle with him while he talks.

He’s never said something like that about the lotus crop without following it up with a confident proclamation—But when have I ever not achieved the impossible?, They’ll poke their heads out soon!, My lotus flowers will be the biggest you’ve seen, just wait!

He’s never left hanging the chance that the lotus crop might not grow.

Wen Ning waits for the cocky remark, but it doesn’t come. “They’ll sprout if you’re the one growing them,” Wen Ning suggests, filling in the declaration that Wei Wuxian missed.

“…Yeah.”

Wen Ning’s stomach sinks. He looks up. Wei Wuxian smiles at him and guides him to rest against his chest again.

“It’s only been two weeks. They might take a while,” Wen Ning says, his face nearly turned into Wei Wuxian’s robes.

“I’ll just cheat and make a Lotus-Attraction Flag.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Of course you will. You’ll also help me with the flag for attracting guests to marvel at the beauty of our lotus pond!”

Guests again.

Wen Ning knows that Hanguang-Jun had visited on the day his consciousness returned. Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli had met with Wei Wuxian soon after. Both left marks on Wei Wuxian.

Is he thinking about them?

Wishing he had warmth of his own to give Wei Wuxian, Wen Ning hugs him tighter. He's not sure if they lower to the ground in one movement or slowly slide down, but eventually they lie on their sides, facing each other, arms tight around each other. Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat speaks, and Wen Ning listens.

I’m lonely, it whispers. I’m so lonely.

Who is there in the Burial Mounds for Wei Wuxian to feel the same affection toward as he feels about Hanguang-Jun? Or to provide the same comfort as the company of his siblings?

Everyone in the Burial Mounds has tried their best to provide the support of a new family for Wei Wuxian. He has even called them his family. But try as they might, how could the Dafan Wen replace his shidi and shijie?

The shidi and shijie Wen Ning helped Wei Wuxian save, only to steal him away from. He knows that it was Wei Wuxian’s choice to lead the Dafan Wen to the Burial Mounds and live with them, but would he have made that choice if he had never formed a relationship with Wen Ning and his sister? The thought makes guilt churn in his stomach.

“Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian runs his thumb in gentle circles over Wen Ning’s shoulder. “Yes?”

“Is that something you want?” He pulls away from Wei Wuxian’s chest to look up at him, though not quite into his eyes. “Guests?”

“Don’t take that all so seriously. If guests come, would they be as good of a drinking buddy as Uncle Four, or as good of a storyteller as Granny, or as energetic as A-Yuan? They couldn’t compete.”

“But you meant it,” Wen Ning says, surprised at the force in his own voice, quiet as it is. “I’ll help you bring guests here.”

Wei Wuxian smiles and brushes his thumb over Wen Ning’s cheek, the touch warm and soft like hushed words. “You’re already too good to me. Don’t worry about me.” He sighs and looks up at the sky. “Each of us will have things we want, but can’t have. It’s just part of living.”

Wen Ning, too, looks up at the star-studded sky through the dark silhouettes of trees. The full shapes of the constellations are broken up, but he can picture which stars are waiting behind the black hands of tree leaves.

As he follows the disjointed forms of the constellations, he decides that he will relieve Wei Wuxian’s burdens.

He is not sure at what moment he makes the decision, but it settles into his bones and becomes his purpose for the night.

Not just for the night. For as long as Wei Wuxian is by his side.

The day Wen Ning’s consciousness was restored, he had heard A-Yuan singing a song about walking the “single-log bridge.” Curious, Wen Ning had asked where A-Yuan learned the song.

“Xian-gege,” had been the answer. The song’s lyrics had been about Wei Wuxian walking alone into darkness.

Wen Ning will not let him walk alone.

If Wei Wuxian wants to walk the single-log bridge, Wen Ning will carry him across it.

“Will you tell me about them?” Wen Ning asks.

“About what?”

“The things you want, but can’t have.”

* * *

Thank you for reading! Next chapter is coming soon. If you enjoyed this fic, come visit me on AO3!

[gayaristocrat]

I Got Everything I wanted...

Episode 1: Filmed Before a Live Studio Audience...

Pairing: Vision x Male Reader

Taglist: N/A

‼️Authors Note‼️: I'm finally at a point where I can write this story. I know that It is long overdue, so I hope this can make up for it. This story is going to be breaking the 4th wall a lot since they tend to do that in the actual show. Also, please let me know in my Inbox/Askbox if you would like to be tagged every time I upload a story to this series. While reading this, you may realize that it seems rushed, and that's because it was. I wanted to put this out as soon as I possibly could. Also since you guys voted that I just divide it up into parts for you to read. I will be uploading part 2 whenever I am able to.

Summary: (Male Name) and Vision struggle to conceal their powers during dinner with Vision's boss and his wife

Time Period: 1956 (So everything in this chapter is going to be colorless and in black and white)

Word count: 4k+

Word Key:

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Have you ever dreamed of living the life you always wanted? Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where you would do anything to get it. Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where all of your care for others went out the window? Have you ever dreamed of wanting something so bad to the point where you would stop anyone who gets in your way.

"(Male Name), I love you so much. Please don't do this, cant you see that everyone is hurting, that everyone is in so much pain?"

"I'm sorry Vision, but I can't. I can't loose you...not again. I never meant for things to be this way, but now I can't go back. Not without you"

---REWIND MANY EPISODES BACK---

For a second, everything is black. The TV clicks on and a burst of grey static illuminates the screen. Everything is black and white, not a single drop of color is in the area. A happily little tune starts playing as a colorless 1956 Buick Special drives up a tiny hill and back down past a sign which says 'Speed Limit 35'. The camera angle changes to the back of the car, showing a banner above the license plate, 'Just Married'. Next, the camera cuts to us, (Male Name) and Vision, newlywed husbands.

It finally happened, we finally got married! Both of us turn take a quick look and smile at each other with nothing but love and glee, it seemed like nothing could go wrong in this moment.

🎵Oh~

A newlywed couple just moved into town,

A regular husband and husband,🎵

Vision turns his head back to the road and continues driving until we turn down a happy little neighborhood. Each house on the street has a pattern of different color greys with black roofs, their yards decorated with equally bland colorless flowers and grass. Children playing outside, and adults chatting with one another while they tend to their gardens, or while walking their dogs. Everyone is just so cheery and happy, even the mailman waves at us as we pass him. Everything is exactly the way it's supposed to be, perfect.

🎵Who left the big city,

To find a quiet life,

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

Vision drives into the driveway of our new home. We quickly hop out of the car and approach the house, but before we walk in I take notice of the 'For Sale' sign still in the yard. I quickly flick my hand and use my magic to change the sign to 'Sold'. After that I dust my hands off with a proud smile on my face as Vision scoops me in his arms bridal style, opens the front door, and carries me inside. I flick my wrist again and the front door closes and locks as we both move to the Livingroom of our already decorated 2 story home.

🎵He's a magical boy,

In a small town locale

And a hubby who's part machine,

How will this duo fit in and pull through?🎵

Once Vision puts me back on my feet, we start swaying with the jingle playing in the background while title cards pop up of written words that I don't care to read right now since I'm too busy enjoying this happy moment with my new husband. Vision then gives me a little twirl before wrapping his arms around my waist as we both dip into a loving heartfelt kiss.

🎵Oh, by sharing a love,

Like you've never seen

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

---SCENE CHANGE---

The scene suddenly changes as the lights flick on and cameras start rolling. You start the scene off by walking into the kitchen and start making your way to one of the grey drawers next to the oven and you grab one of your favorite aprons. Humming a little tune, you wrap the white cloth around your waist and start observing the kitchen to see what needs to be picked up or cleaned. Deciding to work on putting up the dishes, you raise your hand and the newly cleaned plates start levitating off of the counters and float off to the display racks, you then raise your other hand and a dark colored dish cloth floats out of the cabinet and it begins drying a glass cup. You then turn your back to the cup to observe if it had been cleaned good enough, suddenly you jump as a loud crash echoes through out the kitchen. Turn to see what the problem is, you only to find Vision looking up from today's news paper and glances at the shattered plate at the ground while a laughing crown erupts out of nowhere.

"My husband and his flying saucers" He says in his thick English accent (or is it British🤔), with a joking tone.

"My husband and his indestructible head" I reply back in the same tone as another laugh erupts from the crowd.

He then folds his newspaper and walked over to your direction, giving you a kiss on the cheek when he arrived, causing you to chuckle while twirling your finger, making the plate form back to it's original round shape before it floats off to it's designated spot.

"Vision, honey, what do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orang juice and black coffee?" You say while walking over to the refrigerator, opening it and bending down, getting ready to grab out everything needed to make the meal for him.

"I'd say 'Oh, I don't eat food' " He says smiling at me, while the crown laughs again.

You look inside the fridge and hum to yourself in surprise while putting all the pieces together in your head before saying "Well, that explains the empty refrigerator then"

"(Male Name), my darling. Is there something special about today?"

"Well, I know the apron is a bit much dear, but I'm doing my best to blend in and have the 'Perfect House Husband' look." You say walking to meet him, assuming he's talking about the apron.

"No no, you don't have to try, you already are the perfect house husband." He says as he lightly grabs your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and lightly giving you a 'boop' on the nose. "But I was referring to the calendar. Someone's drawn a heart right above today's date." You then looked at him as you cluelessly try to figure out what he's talking about, so he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you around to face the calendar behind you and he rests his chin on your head as you both look at the heart.

Trying to act like you know what day it is, you say "Well...d..dont tell me you've forgotten Vis?"

"Oh silly (y/n), I'm incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That's not an exaggeration. In fact, I'm even incapable of exaggeration" He rambles boastfully.

"Hmm, well then if that's true, then maybe you can tell me what's so important about today's date"

He pauses for a second and thinks before he blows a slow puff of air out of his mouth, then deciding on saying "Uhhh...what was the question again? Oh well, no matter, perhaps you've forgotten yourself"

"Me? Heavens, no, haha. I've been so looking forward to it."

You both have actually been looking forward to day. Today you are celebrating...The first time you...uhhh...have ever celebrated this occasion before. It's a special day indeed, perhaps an evening?...of great significance?...to you both, naturally.. obviously...exactly! Well done for the both of you.

You two ramble on for a few more minutes trying to drill the other into spilling on what was so special about today, but you two couldn't since you were both obviously unknowing about it, then Vision remembered something.

"Well, sorry darling, that's me off to work, then." Vison says fixing his grey suit jacket and grabbing his suitcase walking to the front door. You quickly grab his hat hanging on the coat rack and place it on his head, fixing it to make it look straight.

"Also don't forget-"

"(Male Name), my dear how many times do I have to tell you I don't forg- oh you mean my face right?"

You nod letting him know that was what you were getting at. The audience laughs again as he quickly shakes his head and his face and hands transform from cold metal to warm flesh. Vision then puts his palm to his face and pretends to blow you a kiss, while you play along and pretend to catch it and put it over your heart.

Once he leaves out the door, you lock it a return to the kitchen, and make your way to the calendar, chewing on your polished nails (if you don't want nail polish then skip that part) as you try to remember the symbolism of the heart. Not even a second later your thoughts get interrupted as a loud knock at the door startles you back to 'reality'.

Going to go see who it is, you push the door that separates the living room and the kitchen, closer to the knocking. You quickly open the door and see a woman with a dark plaid dress and a styled black hairdo holding a grey plant in a white pot.

"Oh hello, dear. I'm Agnes, your neighbor to the right. My right, not yours" She says in a sing-song tone as she uninvitedly makes her way into the house. The eruption of cackles echo as you look at her in confusion as to why she decided to step inside, but decided to keep a calm attitude and not say anything about it.

"Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother-in-law was in town...so I wasn't!" she says laughing with the audience once more as her dress sways with her movements. She rushes the potted plant into your arms and you smile and take it as she makes her way into the living room to continue her snooping. "So what's your name? Where are you from? And most importantly how's your bridge game, hon?" She says not loosing a single breath, and of course not giving you time to answer in between questions.

"Umm...Well I'm (Male Name)" You say reaching your hand out to shake hers

"(Male Name)? Charmed!" She joyfully says and returns the gesture.

"Golly, you sure do settle fast! Yes sir you did indeed! Did you use a moving company?"

"Why I sure did. Those boxes don't move themselves." The audience laughs as your inside joke, because let's be honest, the boxes did move themselves since you used your magic to decorate everything. (Damn (Male Name), you really are a powerful sum' bitch)

'"So (Male Name), what's a single boy like you doing rattling around this big house?" She says siting on the couch.

You laugh to yourself and dreamily look at the finger your ring should be on that Vision gave you to claim you as his, (He liked it so he put a ring on it.....sorry...anyways) but paused as it wasn't there. That's not right, because you could have sworn that it was there when you created this rea-

"Oh no, I'm not single I-"

"Well I don't see a ring

"Well I can promise you, I am indeed married...To a man. A human one and tall too! A a matter of fact, he'll be home later tonight for a special occasion just the two of us." You say putting emphasis on 'occasion' with a wink.

"Oh is it somebody's birthday? A holiday?" Agnes questions bouncing up and down in the couch with her legs crossed like a 'proper lady'.

"Well, no and no"

"An anniversary then?"

"Ye-uhh...yes, Its our anniversary!" You shout, finally able to remember what that heart meant.

Agnes waves you over to come sit on the couch with her and you obey, sitting down she grabs and rests both sets of you two's clasped hands on your apron.

"Sooo...tell me, how many years" She asks letting out a little squeal.

"Well..uhhh..it...it uh feels like we've always been together"

"You lucky man-" She shakes her head remembering about her own husband "-the only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer names June 2nd." She chuckles as the audience laughs from nowhere again. "So what do you have planned?"

"How do you mean?" You questioned her. I mean you never really did have time to come up with anything since you just realized, or assumed, what today was.

"For your special night, (Male Name)! A young boy like yourself doesn't have to do much, but it's still fun to set the scene. Say-" she says standing up to slowly make her way to the door "-I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article called 'How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband', and let me tell you somethin'...what Ralph could really use is, 'How to Goose Your Wife So You Don't Loose Your Your Wife'. She kidd's as her and the audience laugh. You look at her and shake your head trying to hold back your own laughter. "Hang on, I'll go grab it and we can start planning. Oh, this is gonna be a gas!" She shouts running to the door so she can leave and run to her house.

-----Time Skip---

Both Agnes and you are back on the couch, looking through her magazines trying to find ideas for the anniversary dinner you planned for you and Vision to share, when out of nowhere, the phone started ringing interrupting you two. You got up and rushed over to it hoping you don't miss the unknown caller, you pick it up and put it to your ear and then start talking.

"Vision residence how may I help you"

"(Male Name), darling I-"

"Vision, my dearest husband. How are you sweetheart?" You say cutting him off from his obviously panicked and frantic voice. I mean come on, you are just excited to hear your husband's voice after a hours of him being gone.

"Listen about tonight-"

You cut him off again, already knowing that he was going to talk about the anniversary. "Don't worry, dear, I have everything under complete control"

"Oh, well, that is a relief. I must confess, I'm really rather nervous" He says over the phone.

"Nervous? Whatever for?" You question.

"Well, you know, darling, I still get a little tongue-tied."

The audience coo's and aww's at how a dust of grey creeps up on your (dark grey/grey) cheeks. "Vis, after all this time..." you giggle out.

"There's a lot riding on this (Male Name)! If tonight doesn't go just so, I think this could be the end.

'Wait what' you think to yourself

"Well, it's just one night. There's no need to get dramatic." You say in a worried tone as you grasp your now queasy stomach.

Vision's tone begins to get more serious as the conversation continues in his attempt to express how important this is to you. "Look, I think the best course of action is to impress the wife."

"Well, first, I think you mean husband. And secondly I also think the best course of action is to impress the other husband too." You look over and give Agnes a thumbs up and a wink in her direction, and she does the same while sipping her martini.

"Glad to know we're both on the same page, love. Until tonight, then, my sweet little husband" Vision says making two smooching noises through the phone to you.

"Until tonight...my robotic husband" You return, whispering the last part so Agnes doesn't hear you. She couldn't hear you anyways, being too busy sipping her drink and flipping through the pages. You finally gently put the phone on the hook and return to the couch.

---Time Skip, Later Tonight---

Before Vision made it home, you set the big dining table that was next to the living room and tossed colorless silk scarfs on all of the laps in the room to set the mood and made your way to the bedroom to get dressed to surprise him for when he gets home. When you heard the door open and heard his voice, you tip toed your way out of the bedroom and into the living room, dressed a long fluffy white lingerie robe with white fur that wrapped around the arms of it which was trailing behind you, exposing both of your (dark grey/grey) legs. You then went all the way to Vision's black silhouette and gently wrapped your hands around his eyes, causing him to jump form the sudden contact.

The audience laughed again as they know your mistake. 'Where the hell is that laughing coming from, and whey is it happening right now of all times?' you thought to yourself in confusion.

"Guess who~" you seductively whispered to your husbands.

Suddenly the lights turn on and you hear Vision's voice that was filled with a mix of shock, embarrassment, and irritation at your recklessness. "(MALE NAME) WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

You gasp and look in his direction. "Vision? What are you-" then it hit's you, if Vision is right there, then who's-

"Oh! Oh my stars, I'm so sorry!" You say to the man you mistook for your husband. You quickly uncover his eyes and stumble away from him as he stares at you in shock. Then you look down at your attire and try to cover your exposed leg as much as possible.

"What is the meaning of this!" The bald headed mad says appalled, as his wife stands behind him looking around cluelessly.

Vision interrupts with his stammering voice just as confused as everyone else. "Well..uh yeah (Male Name) what is the meaning of-" Suddenly it hits him and he tries to comes up with an excuse off the top of his head. "-Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it...and...the meaning of it is...that this is the tradition of (Random Foreign Country/Continent) greeting of hospitality. Uhh...guess who???" Vision says as he runs behind you and overs your eyes.

"Oh is that my host being me?" You say playing along.

"It certainly is, darling. Lovely to make your acquaintance" Vision says vigorously shaking your hand. "See i forgot to tell you my husband is from (Random Foreign Country/Continent)" he giggles along with the audience.

"Oh, how exotic!" The man's wife cheerfully laughs.

"I never knew such a place as that existed" He says in a dark yet serious tone.

"Oh hush Author, have you no culture. Oh and the robe, I absolutely love it!" His wife replies trying to lighten up the awkward mood.

"Thank you so much ma'am-" you march through the living room and snatch off the silk scarves from all the lamps and tightly grab Vision's hand. "-Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?"

You both then slam your way through the kitchen door and it swings closed behind you, leaving Vision's boss and his wife behind as they sit down on the couch and patiently (more like impatiently on Arthur's end) wait for your return. You then turn around and look at each other before throwing questions.

"Who are those people?!"

"What are you wearing!?"

"Why are they here?"

"What are you wearing!?" Vision questions again boldly

"Well, it's out anniversary, that's why I'm wearing this!"

"Our anniversary of what?" Vison says, desperate to know what the hell you were talking about. Eventually you had enough of these shenanigan's and throw the scarves down at his feet stomping your way to the kitchen chairs. "Well if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!" you exaggerate, crossing your arms and pouting like a child

"(Male Name), darling! That...that man through there is my boss Mr. Hart! And his dear lady wife Mrs. Hart! The heart on the calendar was an abbreviation!" Vision whispers, roughly tapping his hand on the black heart drawn on the dull colored calendar.

You grab your head and shake it trying to put everything together. "Vision sweetie, you move at the speed of sound and I can make a pen float through the air. Who. Needs. To. Abbreviate!?"

Vision grabs both of your shoulders in an attempt to collect his thoughts and calm you down. "Darling, listen, it's all romantic to do the candles, the music, that stunning outfit. I don't wanna be unappreciative, but right now-"

"Your boss and his wife are expecting a home-cooked meal. Correct?" Vision nods his head while muttering 'exactly' while look around the kitchen in order to find somethin to serve to the unwarned visitation of guests. After looking around for a but, your eyes land on the mini round table that held a plate and food on it. "Well, does your boss and his wife have a hunger for a single chocolate-covered strawberry, split three ways?" Vision hisses while clenching his fists and shaking his head no.

"Oh wait, I might have better ideas" Without hesitation you raise both of your sands and snap your fingers, magically changing your outfit to the one you were wearing earlier that day, a pair of dark high waisted cuffed slacks and a white blouse to match (you can change if you don't like), and the audience claps in astonishment at your transformation whilst you tie your apron in a bow behind your back. Vision gives you a quick peck on the cheek and runs back to the living room to keep others company while you figure out what to serve everyone.

---Time Skip---

After minutes of looking, you couldn't find anything in the kitchen, and the refrigerator was empty, so you decided to call your good neighbor Agnes to see if she could pick up some things from the store and bring it over. A couple of minutes pass and you finally hear a familiar knock on the back door in the kitchen. As soon as you open it Agnes rushes through with her hands full of groceries stacked to her chin as she stumbles through the kitchen. Before you could even mutter out a 'thank you' she stops you dead in your tracks and puts all the food down on the table. "Before you can say anything don't think about it. I mean, what kind of housewife would I be if I didn't have a gourmet meal for four just lying about the place. Not that Ralph wants to eat anything other than baked beans, which explains a lot about his personal appeal, mind you." The audience laughs one more at her silly humor as you quickly render to her aid to grab some of the groceries before they could fall. Unfortunately, it seems like the Universe was not on your side since the large cooking pot crashed and hit the ground, echoing throughout the kitchen, while Agnes yelled out an overexaggerated 'oh my'.

You had to get rid of Agnes and as quickly as you can, so you decided to just push her out the back door despite her protests to help you cook. "Thank you so much Agnes but I can take it from here-"

"Are you sure dear, many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip too!"

"Oh ahahaha, you are so naughty! But-"

"Oh, shall I preheat the oven then? hmm?"

"That won't be necessary, thank you for your time!"

Somehow she managed to escape your grasp on her waist and make her way back to the counter to crab some kitchen tools to start cooking for you. "Well, I know you're in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap." She says snapping her fingers before continuing her rambling. you run back over to her and snatch the utensils from her, setting them on the counter, and grabbing her arms to march her back to the door. "Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start. Chicken à la King with twice-cooked new potatoes for your second course, and Steak Diane with mint jellies for your main. Oh wait! Do you set your own jellies, dear?"

"Yes Agnes I do, now can you please-"

"Ah there you go, good boy! Recipe cards are all on the counter there. Bon Appétit!"

"Haha, yes will do, thank you so much again Agnes! Bye now!" You say slamming the door, making the audience laugh at your exhausted expression. Now that she's gone, you run to the middle of the kitchen and throw your arms around, making all of the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen fly open, the dishes start floating out, and the food starts cooking. Out of no where the doors to the island bar swoop open to show Mrs. Hart, but before she could see Vision distracts her by breaking out and singing Yackety Yack by The Coasters, causing her to break out into a little dance, making her way back to the couch. Dear gods and goddess', how lucky are you to have a savior like him.

But little did you know, that the night was only just beginning.

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Finish the fic? Leave a like and comment if you enjoyed it. Also, give it a reblog too! Once again, I'm so sorry it was rushed! Please don't be afraid to let me know if there are any typos or errors. I will go back and edit this

[jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav]

Hello! if its ok how would the demon brothers react to a low self esteem/ self hating MC who excepts any insults with a sad smile?

Content Warnings: Self deprecation (naturally, given the nature of the prompt), verbal harassment/insults, spoilers for later chapters in Belphegor’s section

Just so you know it’s basically gonna be seven different versions of this:

Under a cut to prevent carpal tunnel!

Obey Me: The Brothers With an MC Who Has Low Self Esteem and Accepts Insults with a Smile

Lucifer

Lucifer kind of just... stops for a few seconds. Like, he freezes completely. Doesn’t move, doesn’t blink - MC’s not sure if he’s even breathing. They’re at one of Diavolo’s parties together, and a pretty important demon is coming for MC hard, albeit in a slimy, passive-aggressive kind of way. And they’re just... smiling and nodding along?

Lucifer’s single currently operating brain cell is dedicated to not just murdering this pathetic excuse for a demon. If he wasn’t already in his demon form, he would absolutely transform. With a deep breath, he stalks over in full Avatar of Pride mode: shoulders back, staring slightly down at everyone else, wings puffed up just so.

Anything the demon was saying to MC, he throws back at them tenfold, with just as much passive-aggression, though it starts slipping more and more as he continues on. Eventually it starts turning into one of those lectures of his about The Importance of The Exchange Program and Lord Diavolo’s Reputation and-  MC is gonna have to catch his attention to stop him from going full Dad-mode on this bastard.

Once they succeed in doing this, he pulls them aside and, still bristling with indignant rage, asks why MC was letting that wretch talk to them like that.

“Well, it wasn’t like they were saying anything that wasn’t true...”

Wrong. Answer. Lucifer is the Avatar of Pride, even though he has self-worth issues running deeper than the Marianas Trench he would never let anyone talk to him like that, and he wishes more than anything he could lend MC that ability. He’ll tilt their head to look him directly in the eyes and assure them that they absolutely do have value, both in the Devildom and in his family. He won’t tolerate anyone, including MC themself, put down a member of his family. Is that clear?

In the coming weeks, the younger brothers notice that Lucifer’s soft spot for MC is even more pronounced than usual. In fact, he frequently praises them for their accomplishments, flustering them to no end. None of them dare to bring it to his attention, because they’ve all noticed in one way or another that MC is carrying themself with more confidence now.

Whatever is going on between the two of them seems to be working quite well.

Mammon

Mammon... runs his mouth a lot. He says stupid things he doesn’t mean because admitting his actual feelings would be too difficult. Unfortunately, one of the feelings he’s vehemently avoiding addressing is his feelings for MC. This manifests as loud and insistent denial that The GREAT Mammon would never be interested in some stupid, weak human, how dare you suggest that?!

The brothers expect one of many responses from MC: outrage and offence, teasing at Mammon’s clear tsundere attitude, a roll of the eyes, anything other than their sad little smile whenever he insults them. One day, Mammon finally notices their staring and he actually stops and takes a minute to process the acceptance on MC’s face.

He just called them a burden and a waste of time and they’re SMILING?!

Like a horrid puzzle piece, everything clicks together in Mammon’s mind. He’s never heard MC protest any of the awful things he’s said about them. They don’t even tease him about it like his brothers do.

They think he’s being serious and they agree with him.

He changes his tune so fast it’s dizzying. He slips up sometimes, but now when he sees MC’s small smile that doesn’t reach their eyes, he adds, “H-Hey! Why’re you just letting me say all that, huh? Ya gotta stand up for yourself, MC! You better not go around letting lesser demons talk to you like this! If anyone ever gives you trouble, you come to the GREAT Mammon and I’ll shut ‘em up real quick!

“‘Cause... It’s not true, all of that about you being stupid or annoying. You’re my human and I know you really well and you’re- You’re not any of that, MC! So don’t go smiling at jerks dragging your name through the mud okay?”

Leviathan

MC and Leviathan are playing an online multiplayer game together, and MC still hasn’t quite gotten used to Devildom controls yet. They’re not exactly a great asset to their team... Not that Levi minds. He’s happy they’re showing interest in him his games at all.

Some of the demons they’re playing with, on the other hand...

Ugh, stay on the objective you stupid bitch!

Is [MC’s username] afk?

If you feed them any more kills I fucking swear-

Why is a noob even playing this game lmao just go die already

Levi scoffs. Their team wasn’t even losing, these scumbags just needed to find someone to pick on. Still, it wasn’t fair for MC to listen to their insults, he’ll just disconnect and find a better team - hey, why has MC been so quiet?

The Avatar of Envy turns to face MC only to see them staring down at their controller with a shaky smile. He calls their name and they look up, startled.

“I’m gonna find another team for us to play on,” Levi explains as the game warns him that he’s about to lose some in-game reputation points for abandoning his team. “Uh, unless you’d rather play something else?”

“No it’s fine, you pick,” MC says, still avoiding making direct eye contact. “I probably won’t do any better no matter what we play...”

Hey, insecurity is his thing!

“MC, you better not be thinking about what those losers said in the chat!”

“But-”

“NUH UH! You might be a normie, but you’re also my best friend!” MC feels an anime-inspired speech coming on. “Who cares about winning or losing one match? I’d rather lose every match I ever play from now on if it means I get to have you as my player 2!” Leviathan pauses as he realizes exactly what he just said and immediately turns beet red. “...you know... if you... wanted to, I guess...”

Satan

MC is in Devildom History with Satan, and as an exchange student, is having a rough time of it. They just don’t have the same background as the rest of the students, and can’t pick up on things as fast as they do.The teacher hands back the latest test and they cringe as they see their grade. Satan, sitting next to them, glances at the mark and gives them one of his small smiles.

“You know, if you need extra help, don’t be shy. I’d be happy to help you,” he says quietly.

Apparently not quietly enough, because a particularly rowdy pair of demons overhear him and choose that moment to make a nuisance of themselves. One of them snatches MC’s paper out of their hands, and upon seeing their grade starts laughing.

“How did you put the Abyssal Peace Treaty before the Abyssal War?! Everyone knows when that happened!” they continue chuckling at more silly mistakes MC made while very stressed during that test, while Satan’s blood starts boiling.

Much to his surprise, MC just smiles and joins in the demons’ laughter. “Yeah, that was pretty stupid...” they say with a falsely cheerful tone. Satan quickly catches on - they’re just fucking with these demons! He keeps his anger at bay with the anticipation of seeing MC really tear these lowlives a new-

“Wow, not even gonna defend yourself? Why do we even have human exchange students, they’re so boring.” The demon pair scoff and toss MC’s test back, before stalking off, annoyed that they didn’t get the reaction they wanted.

Hm. Frustrate them by not responding to their futile taunts. An interesting choice, but effective nonetheless. Satan expresses his appreciation of MC’s choice, much to their confusion. When they explain that they really were agreeing with what the demons had said, Satan doesn’t take it very well.

If MC doesn’t stop him, he’ll go over to the pair of demons that insulted them and drag their names through the dirt in front of the entire classroom, adding in some colourful suggestions about what would happen to them if they continued this behaviour. Either way, he’s furious enough that his demon form might start peeking out, tail thrashing behind him or horns growing out from his messy hair.

When class is over, Satan asks MC to stay behind.

“I want you to tell me why you feel this way about yourself,” he says. “Because I promise you, there isn’t a single explanation you can give that I won’t argue against. And I’m rarely wrong.”

Asmodeus

Asmo lives in a delightful bubble of flirtation, partying, and being the very best and prettiest being in all three realms. He works very hard to maintain this state, terrified of what he’d find on the other side of the haze.

But all it takes is one look at MC for it to come crashing down.

They’re at The Fall together, sipping on fruity drinks disguising unholy amounts of alcohol for a brief break before returning to the dance floor. Asmo knows MC struggles with confidence, and figured that if he could get them to have a good time, they would forget their insecurities for at least a little while.

And maybe he’s laying it on a bit thick with the flirting while they’re here. He can’t help it! He loves MC in a way he’s never really loved anyone else before. If he’s completely honest, the feeling scares him: he wants to put them before himself, and he’s not sure if he can, because he never has put someone else first before.

A demon notices Asmo’s lovesick staring at MC, and comments as they pass, “Oh my, has the Avatar of Lust sunken so low that he’s making eyes at some plain-jane human?” A long, scaled tail snakes around MC’s face, turning their head in the demon’s direction. “Or are you just a charity-fuck? You certainly won’t be able to hold his interest for long, darling.~”

The demon saunters off, and Asmodeus has half a mind to storm over to them and cause a scene, but the look on MC’s face stops him in his tracks.

They’re looking at him and they’re smiling.

“You don’t have to pretend to be upset about it,” they say, poking at their drink with their straw. “I know I’m not all that interesting. You just want me right now because I’m an ordinary human, right? And once the novelty wears off, well... I’m not powerful like a demon, or a wise magic user like Solomon, and I’m not exactly good-looking, so why keep me around? It’s been nice of you to pretend with me, though-”

He cuts them off with a passionate kiss, threading his fingers in their hair and pressing their bodies as close as possible. The gesture catches MC off guard and their drink spills on the two of them, but Asmo doesn’t even flinch. He only pulls away when MC starts panting from lack of oxygen.

“Please don’t say those awful things about yourself, MC,” Asmodeus says, eyes brimming with tears. “You’re...” One of the only people I don’t have to pretend around. “...You are so special to me. And you always will be.” Suddenly aware that they’ve both been soaked in a cocktail, Asmo smirks. “Oh dear, it seems our clothes are all dirty... I guess we’ll have to go back home and change, won’t we?”

Please let me prove to you how much I love you, he thinks as you tearfully smile and punch his arm before agreeing.

Beelzebub

Beel deals with survivor’s guilt, and if he’s not careful, it can lead to some pretty dark places. He’s also Belphie’s twin and is very familiar with what low self-esteem looks like. So whenever a demon tries to insult MC while he’s around, he doesn’t give them the chance to agree, calmly, but firmly jumping to their defence.

It doesn’t matter who it is or where they are, Beel always has MC’s back. Whenever they’re feeling especially down and that sad little smile is on their face, MC tends to find some of their favourite snacks tucked away into their bag or even their uniform pockets. The Avatar of Gluttony is also always ready to deploy some Emergency Cuddles, and is generally a steady, grounding presence in MC’s life. He starts to stick around them almost as much as Mammon does.

Unfortunately, this attracts the attention of some less than savoury people.

“Hey Beel! Coach wants you to know we’ve got an extra practice tomorrow! It’s semi-finals soon, and he wants to go over some new strategies,” a large, intimidating demon calls out, dressed in the RAD athletic uniform.

MC and Beel turn towards the demon’s voice, and Beel’s teammate makes a face upon seeing them. “You’re still hanging around them?” the demon asks. “Or are they clinging onto ya like a barnacle?” He laughs and MC lets go of Beel’s hand, blushing.

They have been around him an awful lot lately... Is he only doing it out of pity? Should they stop? Oh no, what if he thinks they’re annoying--

“I like MC,” Beel says plainly. “And I like spending time with them. So, tomorrow after classes is the next practice? I’ll be there.” He leaves no room for further debate. The demon stumbles over his words before confirming and abruptly running off.

MC doesn’t take Beel’s hand again.

“Hey,” Beelzebub takes MC’s much smaller hands into his own. “I mean it. I like you. Don’t listen to my teammate, he’s dumber than Mammon. Want to go have lunch together? I think they’re serving fried bats in the cafeteria...”

Belphegor

Sometimes, Belphegor peeks in on MC’s dreams. He never directly interacts with them, nor has he ever told them that he does this at all. Ever since he... ever since that happened, he’s made a conscious effort to avoid creeping them out even further, and he worries that this kind of behaviour would be frowned upon by a human.

But he can’t help it. Especially tonight.

After being woken up by a squirming MC, he decides to look into their dreams and see what is upsetting them so much. Much to his surprise, he finds himself inside one of RAD’s classrooms. MC is working on an assignment with a group of demons whose features keep shifting around. The writing on the books in front of them is illegible, and Belphegor only knows it’s writing at all because of his familiarity with dream physics.

“There they are,” whispers one of the demons. “What do they think they’re doing?”

MC asks a question about something in one of the books, pointing to a scribble that only looks like words when not focused on.

“Why do you care? It’s not like you can do anything useful for us anyway,” the demon snaps. “I’m not even sure why you’re here.” Belphegor frowns. Is this a memory?

MC meekly mentions the exchange program. “I don’t care!” The demon’s voice changes, and Belphegor suddenly feels the pitter-patter of raindrops on his skin, despite still being indoors. MC’s clothes are drenched in the invisible rain. “Fuck, can you not take a hint, MC? No one actually wants you here! You’re just a tag-along!”

“Why don’t you just pack up and leave then? Oh right, you have nowhere else to go!”

The figures of the demons become shadowy and elongated, hands sharpening into talons. MC jumps to their feet and backs away from the advancing figures, whose whispers become louder and interrupt each other.

“Just don’t mess it up again-”

“-never have trusted you! You ruin EVERYTHING-”

“Another disappointment, I see.”

“Don’t LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT-”

“Fucking whore!”

The voices continue, growing louder and louder until the figures melt into one familiar silhouette with violet eyes.

“You’re so stupid that I can’t help but laugh.” Belphegor’s blood runs cold. “You humans really are foolish, idiotic, weak creatures, aren’t you?”

The Avatar of Sloth watches helplessly as his dream-double wraps its hands around MC’s throat, cooing hideous insults at them all the while. Nonononono, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to- I didn’t know, I was just so- Ugh! That’s not an excuse, you idiot! 

The dream-Belphegor pauses, grip slackening.

“Get off of them,” Belphegor hisses. “Now.” 

The figure dissolves into the classroom, turning the surroundings completely black. Now Belphie finds himself standing in the creature’s place, in front of a confused MC.

“Are you okay?” he asks lamely.

“Why did you stop?” MC asks in return.

“I wasn’t... It was hurting you, and saying- I couldn’t keep letting it-”

MC smiles. “It’s just the truth. You said so yourself.”

MC and Belphegor wake up together, sweating, trapped in the other’s vice-like grip. MC’s pulse flutters under Belphie’s hands, way faster than it should be. It almost feels like when-

He twists out of their grasp, falling out of the bed in the process. He scrambles as far back as his room allows, nearly tripping over his own tail. MC stares at him through the darkness, torn between chasing after him and putting more distance between the two of them.

“...You saw that.” He doesn’t reply. “...Come here, Belphie.”

And slowly, he does.

For the next few weeks, Belphegor never leaves MC’s side unless absolutely necessary, even if he falls asleep next to them. He refuses to acknowledge this unusual behaviour, reacting with increasing hostility to anyone who mentions it. He also accompanies them to bed more often than not, much to Mammon’s chagrin.

“So long as I’m with you, no one else is going to talk to you like that ever again. I’m not going to let them, and I’m not going to let you just take it.”