#I think the words read 'well of lost sins' which is cool

[horseshoe-bay-ledger]

NANCY DREW || 4x10: The Ballad of Lives Foregone

"That was the right sin."

[ageofzero]

Yuna is the antagonist of a potential Final Fantasy X-3, thank you for coming to my TED Talk

edit: okay I'll put it under a read more since it'll be a long post (but not as long as my entire conversation was), but what's promised is due.

Now that I have to make the post for real I had to do some wiki reading on what the actual Things going on in the novella were, and… well, a lot of my theorycrafting was based on incomplete and kinda inaccurate information. BUT I can’t read Japanese, the book was never released here, and I am going to go with rule of cool for a little bit of this even as I keep the stuff that sounds kinda dumb on the surface. I’ll be the first to say that Tidus exploding from a bomb he thinks is a blitzball is dumb (true), and Chuami thinking she’s Auron’s daughter is a dumb plot beat (petty), but I’m weaving this bridge and I’m not going to rewrite those. I am going to change some contexts and make them exist in a narrative that I hope is compelling. That’s my disclaimer, now I’m gonna get into it.

SO.

The scenario from the novella and audio drama is thus: Tidus died again in an accident, and Yuna brings him back. But he’s not back in the same way that the Fayth gave this dream a real living body at the end of X-2. The official term for it is “beckoned”, but I probably won’t use that to describe him based on my previous understanding. No matter if he’s beckoned or not, or whatever terminology you want to use, the thing is that Yuna summoned him back. She’s holding him to life, and he can never know. It’s been a year since the moment Tidus died, and Yuna has seemingly regressed into patterns that put her into what was once Yevon’s circle. Tidus is looking injured/weakened (“Chuami: It wasn’t just [Tidus’s] words that felt hollow. When I shook his hand, his grip felt weak and lifeless... I think he’s injured. Or maybe he’s sick or something.”), and people are looking to Yuna for help or information regarding the strange not-quite Unsent (the beckoned) that are appearing in places in Spira. Help she is not capable of giving. Wakka and Lulu are protecting her as she prays in Besaid Temple. The world is seemingly acting out, with a second shoopuf appearing in the Moonflow and its energies overflowing and drawing more illusions into reality. (“Yuna: The Moonflow energy is responding to the will of the living. It’s as if… we’re in the Farplane.”) And it’s more vivid than what the Farplane is capable of, even breaking the rules of “beckoning”. This is something new, something worse. Something worse enough to bring back Sin (which I thought was just me extrapolating a potential, but they actually mention it in the audio drama that it happens). Yuna promises the people that she will defeat Sin, but Wakka tries to keep her from being made to promise such a thing at first, which is an interesting choice (“Wakka: Yuna, let’s go back to Besaid. They’ll push this all on you… Sin is for summoners, in their minds.”).

Where does the world go in this present circumstances? Why IS Yuna seemingly content to do what chafed her in the Eternal Calm short movie and stay praying in Besaid and helping the elders who are lost now that Yevon as they knew it is in shambles? Why are Lulu and Wakka enabling and protecting her in that? Why is Tidus looking injured and weak and why is Yuna keeping him at arm’s length? Why does she tell him that she’s fallen in love with someone else?

I know the typical story beat interpretation is “Yuna told him that and pushed him away so he wouldn’t be in danger for what she needs to do, bc defeating Sin caused his death last time”. But hear me out. Yuna knows Tidus isn’t alive. She knows that revealing that information to him will cause him to disappear again. She’s actively summoning him back to life and he has no idea (but he must suspect something is wrong, even before Yuna formally pulls away from him, he’s weakening and he probably doesn’t feel right in his own skin). I posit that her maintaining Tidus’s life is what she’s really doing praying in the Besaid Temple. She doesn’t want to get involved with the Moonflow situation, the shoopuf or the overflowing energy of the Moonflow itself. She doesn’t even really act when seeing all the ghosts in the crowd, and actively stops Kurgum from acting (plausible deniability: she and everyone else decide that sending them in that moment would be the wrong call and riots would break out, but that density of ghosts means that’s a significant amount of pyreflies that could become fiends at any moment).

I posit that Yuna’s powers are working, that people close to her think her powers aren’t working (Lulu and Wakka), and she’s hiding it from everyone else. That her powers aren’t working because she’s currently using them to maintain Tidus’s existence. And this maintaining is breaking the Farplane in half, because she’s powerful but has no idea what she’s doing. (Why would she really know what she’s doing or the consequences? Who has any information of what she’s doing and what will happen if she does it?) I posit that Yuna’s love for Tidus is so strong that it corrupts her sense of right and wrong. X-2 is Yuna largely going on a personal quest, and incidentally helping people but separating herself from the title of High Summoner and doing something she wants to do. Rikku encourages her to do something for herself for a change right before she agrees and runs off to become a sphere hunter. She still saves the world, this time from an ancient danger Old Yevon buried and an Unsent is threatening to use (for love, notably), but she did it in the course of looking for Tidus. Who the Fayth return to life, who she hugs and is so so relieved to have in her arms again.

She’s not going to let him go, she couldn’t let him die again so much that she called him back to life.

(side note: I never truly knew how this happened so I had to consult the wiki page on the novella, and I suspect what original information I was working with was misrepresented and misinterpreted. I openly admit that the wiki page doesn’t really help me fully understand what happened, aside from explaining how Tidus ended up in proximity to a bomb. My understanding from someone’s explanation was that an Unsent summoner on the island Yuna and Tidus got washed up on after a storm told her she could call back the dead if she wanted, as a summoner. They’re all made of pyreflies, Aeons and Fiends and People and Unsent alike, and summoners are in the business of manipulating pyreflies. Either calling them from the Fayth to form an Aeon, or Sending them to the Farplane so they do not become Fiends. A summoner with enough power could summon someone back from the dead, could they not? And this Unsent summoner knew how it worked, and told Yuna how to do it. But I don’t know how real that scene could be, or how accurate it is to what’s written in the book. It’s my rule of cool moment, though, and I worked with that as my understanding when I made this theory. We have to make our peace with that, if you’ll allow me this extrapolation of Spira’s rules and a summoner’s powers.)

(The meme is Tidus kicking a blitzball and it turned out it was a bomb and his head gets blown off, but wiki says they ended up on a vision of a Besaid from 1000 years ago, and the bomb was something neither Tidus or Yuna had seen before and to them it looked like a blitzball. So, Tidus approached what he thought was a blitzball, wondering who’s ball it was, and it exploded as he reached it. I still think that’s really dumb but I’m not editing it out bc Tidus’s death creates very interesting consequences.)

So, if Yuna is summoning Tidus back to life, and she desperately doesn’t want him to find this out so she avoids him and pushes him away through any means necessary, but he’s still weakening and fading enough to be noticeable by people… perhaps also himself… Yuna returning to Yevon in some capacity could just as likely be her looking for a means to keep feeding power to this summoning she’s doing so she doesn’t lose him. And what kind of consequences does it have to do this? He’s being summoned, but he’s not actually an Aeon. He’s not an Unsent, he’s not just being beckoned. He wasn’t even real, he was a dream in a summon held together by the raw power of Yu Yevon turning into Sin. The Moonflow overflowing and seeing a long-dead shoopuf is the least of the consequences. The Farplane is delicate, it requires careful maintenance, and here Yuna is shoving her foot in the door and holding it open for a solid year! And no one knows she’s doing this! Spira’s past is full of history, some of that long-buried secrets that no one was supposed to find again. Sin wasn’t supposed to be able to come back, but the ghosts aren’t staying ghosts anymore (“Lulu: I mean Sin came back, right? What’s to stop anything else from coming back?”).

Even people who only know her by reputation seem to think she’s acting strangely (“Kurgum: I thought Lady Yuna was… a righteous person.”), because something is wrong and no one can put their finger on what. Who would have the pieces to put any of this together, and who would even suspect Yuna in the first place? She’s actively not getting involved in politics, she’s locked herself in Besaid, she seems reluctant to answer someone she worked with and should be amicable with now (Baralai).

I think the story should follow down this path, I think it should find Yuna at the end of it, once savior and now destroyer. She’s willing to let the world rip apart in order to keep Tidus, and I think that’s a compelling premise for X-3. The past surging forward like ghosts, vengeful and lost and wanted and terrifying. Who sides with Yuna (Wakka, Lulu) and covers up the problem? Who bands together to face down the High Summoner (Tidus, Rikku)? Who doesn’t know where to place their allegiance, or who changes sides when they realize the extent of what Yuna’s hiding? What does she do when she’s faced with her friends, and the person she loves so much, telling her to stop?

There’s a line in Eternal Calm where Yaibal (named in X-2 but not in the movie itself), after asking about whether or not she’d be joining one of the factions, if she’d be making a faction of her own. And I think in this potential X-3, she’s making her own faction through the actions of becoming antagonist. She’s made Wakka cover for her, she acts in a way that make Lulu and Wakka both protect her regardless of whether or not they know what she’s doing. I think it would be so fascinating to make this a conscious decision on her part. Things have broken so utterly, and she’s desperate to hold them together, and becomes the antagonist in the process.

Squeenix would never do it, they’d never be so bold as to make Yuna the antagonist and follow through on this trajectory of her lying to people to hide that she’s the one breaking the world in half (up to returning the ghost of Sin itself to terrorize Spira). Sin isn’t the final boss in this one, it’d have to be Yuna, we have to stop her and fix what went wrong. It’s not ever gonna happen, but I still think Yuna should be the antagonist of X-3.

[dreamsoffantasty]

━━ ❀   𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 ( 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓 )  𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐒 ❀ ( lyrical meme soundtrack to the first movie, please feel free to change the pronouns as you see fit  ! some of the lyrics changed to fit better for RP purposes. )                               TW: emotional manipulation present. 

𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄

❛ They say I'm trouble. ❜

❛ they say I'm bad. ❜

❛ they say I'm evil. ❜

❛ that makes me glad. ❜

❛ your worst nightmare. ❜

❛ can't take me home. ❜

❛ so I've got some mischief in my blood. ❜

❛ can you blame me ? I never got no love. ❜

❛ they think I'm callous, a low-life hood. ❜

❛ I feel so useless, misunderstood. ❜

❛ mirror, mirror on the wall {insertyourquestion}, ? ❜

❛ who's the baddest of them all ? ❜

❛ welcome to my wicked world ❜

❛ I'm rotten to the core. ❜

❛ who could ask for more ? ❜

❛ i'm nothing like the kid next door. ❜

❛ call me a schemer. ❜

❛ call me a freak. ❜

❛ how can you say that ? ❜

❛ i'm just... unique ! ❜

❛ what, me ? a traitor ? ❜

❛ are we not friends ? what's up with that ? ❜

❛ so i'm a misfit. ❜

❛ so i'm a flirt. ❜

❛ i broke your heart ? ❜

❛ the past is past. ❜

❛ truth is, you ain't seen nothing yet ! ❜

𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄

❛ look at you, look at me. ❜

❛ i don't know who to be, {insertname}. ❜

❛ is it wrong, is it right to be a thief in the night ? ❜

❛ i was once like you, {insertname}, slightly insecure. ❜

❛ argued with my mother/father too, thought i was mature. ❜

❛ i put my heart aside. ❜

❛ i used my head. ❜

❛ but i put my heart aside and now i think it's time you learned. ❜

❛ don't you wanna be evil like me ? ❜

❛ don't you wanna be mean ? ❜

❛ don't you wanna make mischief your daily routine ? ❜

❛ well, you can spend your life attending to the poor. ❜

❛ when you're evil, doing less is doing more. ❜

❛ don't you wanna be ruthless and rotten and mad ? ❜

❛ don't you wanna be very, very good at being bad ? ❜

❛ i have tried my whole life long to do the worst i can.  ❜

❛ clawed my way to victory, built my master plan. ❜

❛ now the time has come, my dear, for you to take your place. ❜

❛ promise me you'll try to be an absolute disgrace. ❜

❛ don't you wanna be cruel ? ❜

❛ don't you wanna be nasty and brutal and cool ? ❜

❛ when you grab that wand, that's when your reign begins. ❜

❛ who wants an evil queen without a sack of sins ? ❜

❛ don't you wanna be heartless and hardened as stone ? ❜

❛ don't you wanna be finger-licking evil to the bone ? ❜

❛ this is not for us to ponder, this was pre-ordained. ❜

❛ you and i shall rule together. ❜

❛ mistress/master of the universe, powerful and strong ! ❜

❛ daughter/son, hear me, help me, join me, won't you come along ? ❜

❛ we're going to be evil. ❜

❛ never gonna think twice. ❜

❛ we're going to be spiteful. ❜

❛ this mother/father-daugher-son act is going out on tour. ❜

❛ you should thank your lucky star, that you were born the girl/boy you are. ❜

❛ daughter/son of an evilicious queen/king like me ! ❜

𝐈𝐅 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘

❛ a million thoughts in my head. ❜

❛ should i let my heart keep listening ? ❜

❛ 'cause up till now i've walked the line. ❜

❛ nothin' lost, but somethin' missing. ❜

❛ i can't decide what's wrong, what's right. ❜

❛ which way should i go ? ❜

❛ if only i knew what my heart was telling me. ❜

❛ don't know what i'm feeling. ❜

❛ is this just a dream ? ❜

❛ if only i could read the signs in front of me. ❜

❛ i could find a way to who i'm meant to be. ❜

❛ if only... ❜

❛ every step, every word, with every hour i am falling into something new, something brave, to someone i have never been. ❜

❛ which way should i go ? ❜

❛ am i crazy ? ❜

❛ maybe we could happen... ❜

❛ will you still be with me when the magic's all run out ? ❜

❛ i know it's time to say goodbye. ❜

❛ so hard to let go.. ❜

𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

❛ did i mention that i'm in love with you ? ❜

❛ there is nothing i can do. ❜

❛ i dream of you every day. ❜

❛ i met this girl who rocked my world. ❜

❛ it's never been rocked before. ❜

❛ now I'm living just for her/him. ❜

❛ i won't ever stop. ❜

❛ i never thought that it could happen to a guy/girl like me. ❜

❛ now look at what's you've done. ❜

❛ you go me down on my knees. ❜

❛ because my love for you is ridiculous. ❜

❛ i never knew that it could be like this. ❜

❛ i would give up my kingdom for just one kiss. ❜

❛ i gotta know which way to go. ❜

❛ come on give me a sign. ❜

❛ you gotta show me that you're only ever gonna be mine. ❜

❛ don't wanna go another minuet even without you. ❜

❛ if your heart just isn't in it, i don't know what i'd do. ❜

𝐁𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓

❛ ma chere Mademoiselle, it is with deepest pride, and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight ! ❜

❛ now we invite you to relax, let us pull up a chair, as the dining room proudly presents your dinner ! ❜

❛ be our guest ! ❜

❛ put our service to the test. ❜

❛ tie your napkin 'round your neck, cherie and we'll provide the rest. ❜

❛ Soup du jour, hot hors d'oeurvres ━━ ❜

❛ why, we only live to serve. ❜

❛ try the gray stuff, it's deleicious ! ❜

❛ don't believe me ? ask the dishes ! ❜

❛ they can sing, they can dance !❜

❛ after all miss/mr/mrs, this is france ! ❜

❛ dinner here is never second best ! ❜

❛ go on, unfold your menu, go on, take a glance ! ❜

❛ beef ragout, cheese souffle, pie and pudding ❝en flambe❞, we prepare and serve with flair a culinary cabaret ! ❜

❛ you're alone and you're scared. ❜

❛ but the banquet's all prepared. ❜

❛ no one's gloomy or complaining. ❜

❛ while the flatware's entertaining ! ❜

❛ we tell jokes ! ❜

❛ we do tricks ! ❜

❛ with our fellow candlesticks. ❜

❛ it's all in perfect taste. ❜

❛ you can bet. ❜

❛ come on and lift your glass. ❜

❛ you've you won your own free pass ! ❜

❛ if you're stressed, it's fine dining we suggest. ❜

𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅

❛ oh yeah ! ❜

❛ let's set it off. ❜

❛ you can make it happen. ❜

❛ kings and queens, it's our time to rise. ❜

❛ write the book story of our lives. ❜

❛ this is us taking back the night. ❜

❛ break the spell. ❜

❛ we were born this way, be yourself, forget the DNA. ❜

❛ everybody raise your hands and say ❝ohah, ohay❞ ! ❜

❛ sound the alarm. ❜

❛ get on your feet. ❜

❛ rock this beat ! ❜

❛ dance till your heart is wild and free. ❜

❛ feeling the power, let it all out. ❜

❛ like what you see in the mirror ? ❜

❛ we got the keys, the kingdom's ours. ❜

❛ start a chain reaction. ❜

❛ never let it stop ! ❜

❛ with everything you got ! ❜

❛ i'll make my own future. ❜

❛ ignore all the rumors. ❜

❛ show 'em my passion sound. ❜

❛ they all told me to back down. ❜

❛ judgin' me 'cause of my background. ❜

❛ nah, i ain't goin' out like that ❜

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆

❛ why you standing there ? ❜

❛ acting like you just don't care. ❜

❛ we can make our own kind of music. ❜

❛ we might come from different worlds. ❜

❛ might not be your kind of girl/boy. ❜

❛ i just wanna let go and lose it. ❜

❛ we are lost and found. ❜

❛ so let's go turn the beat around. ❜

❛ maybe find a brand new sound. ❜

❛ let's turn it up right now. ❜

❛ the night is young. ❜

❛ it's just begun. ❜

❛ let's get it started. ❜

❛ go till the sun comes up. ❜

❛ dance together ? ❜

❛ dance alone ? ❜

❛ let it out and let it show. ❜

❛ i wish that it would never end. ❜

❛ i wish the song could play and play. ❜

❛ be who you wanna be. ❜

❛ just let the rhythem take you there. ❜

𝐈'𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

❛ you know i got it ! ❜

❛ i'm your girl/boy. ❜

❛ every time you miss the beat and life pulls you under. ❜

❛ when you need your rhythem back, i'll be your drummer. ❜

❛ if you come undone, i'll be the one to make the beat go on and on. ❜

❛ i'll be your A to the Z, even if trouble's coming. ❜

❛ i'll be whatever you need. ❜

❛ call me and i'll come runnin'. ❜

❛ i'm a little bit sunshine, a little bit starlight. ❜

❛ sometimes when my halo slips, i dance on the wild side. ❜

❛ no matter where you're coming from, i know what it feels like. ❜

❛ if the road gets rough, i'm gonna be hanging on tough. ❜

❛ you can get lost sometimes, i'll be your neon sign. ❜

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐁𝐀𝐃

❛ call it good. ❜

❛ call it bad. ❜

❛ call it even if you could. ❜

❛ it's the best you ever had. ❜

❛ we know what's hot, what's not. ❜

❛ we strike a pose and then they take a shot. ❜

❛ they get in close. ❜

❛ try to run the spot. ❜

❛ we come to show 'em what we got. ❜

❛ it's time to make a stand. ❜

❛ we breaking through. ❜

❛ now we in demand. ❜

❛ bad was all the rage last week. ❜

❛ good had got a wicked beat. ❜

❛ good is the new bad. ❜

❛ we can feel the mad love. ❜

❛ gimme more ! ❜

❛ bad is the new good. ❜

❛ i think we should. ❜

❛ we used to love the dark. ❜

❛ but then we saw the light and felt a spark. ❜

❛ we bring the fire and make it better and better. ❜

❛ cause good is back and now it's badder than ever. ❜

[dropintomanga]

The Curse of Avoiding Dislike

I’m reading the latest English volume (Volume 10 as of this posting) of Shikimori’s Not Just a Cutie and there was a part in this volume that’s absolutely relatable as everyone is so afraid of being disliked. It’s scary, but this manga has shown what happens when that fear has the potential to interfere in your daily life.

To provide some context, the big school trip to Kyoto (a very common trope) happens in the series and a new member of Shikimori’s crew is introduced. Saruogi is a timid young man chosen by Izumi as the latter once helped him out in the past. Although he does get along with Izumi, Shikimori and friends, there’s still an amount of distance between them. In Volume 10, the readers know why.

When Izumi loses a scarf that Shikimori gave him, Saruogi offers to help find it, but Izumi insists on not finding it to ensure everyone has a good time. Saruogi struggles to agree with Izumi’s actions and the above picture provides some insight into his thinking. Saruogi wanted to make friends, but everyone else seemed to dislike him because of his lack of personality. Saruogi would always stay close up to a certain point where he wouldn’t get hurt or hurt anyone’s feelings.

Yet when he remembers Izumi reaching out to him, Saruogi decides to take a stand and ends up telling his new friends about the missing scarf. Everyone rushes to help. Saruogi cries though as he feels that Izumi would hate him because he broke his promise in having the perfect travel trip. But Shikimori being the cool character that she is says.

“But...I deserve for him to think that way about me.” While there is a happy ending to all of this, I can’t help but think about those words. Maybe I’ve said some kind of variation of those lines and I’m sure many other people have (especially those with depression and anxiety).

There’s many studies that say that people greatly underestimate how much people like them or want constructive feedback in any shape or form. The liking gap is super real. It’s very hard to overcome this. But I like what Saruogi does because he doesn’t want Izumi to be alone in solving the problem. I remember the book The Courage to be Disliked, which gave some pointers on how to overcome being disliked because a lot of us can’t accept that we’re not going to be liked by everyone.

- Deny trauma (well, not totally deny it, but let it become your entire identity) - All life’s problems are interpersonal (this means that failing isn’t the problem, it’s being seen failing is the problem. Hence interpersonal). - Live in the here and now. (Self-explanatory)

Saruogi rejects Izumi’s wishes, his interpersonal past, and decides to do what’s best in his eyes which ultimately makes everyone happy. Saying “no” to certain things that seem harmful to someone you care about shouldn’t be a sin. I sometimes find it ironic when people say they want a friend who’s honest and blunt when they might mean they want someone like that as long as they call other people out and not them. And I noticed that in this bit, Izumi and Saruogi are somewhat similar in that they were willing to let their own happiness suffer instead of others. Izumi in a way was worried about being disliked if the travel plans didn’t work out all because he lost his scarf. Thankfully, Shikimori tells him off.

I know not many of you believe this (and I will not blame you), but I do think people who feel that they’re unlikable are more likable than they think. There’s wholesome people out there still. I can also say this from recent personal experiences and the people who are still with me. Curses can turn into blessings.

[thomine]

2023 WRAPPED

writing edition for thomine. questions that summarise your writing journey for the whole year. source of these prompts were lost.

thanks for accompanying me on this journey! onward to more words written, more stories shared, and more atrocious alliteration)

Your yearly word count!

a whooping 31,327 words! this does not count stories posted on my older blog. au august really did wonders to my stats, haha. this word count is only for published works, not including drafts. au august was about 24k, which is about 70% of my yearly word count, lol.

Fave fic you wrote this year?

there is so many reasons why something can be a person's favourite... and this year it is probably READY, AIM, FIRE (venti)! i really like metaphors and abstract themes, so it was fun trying to string two concepts that are seemingly not related into a story! i absolutely loved the prompt and the undertone it brought to the story. i also really like venti, and i had tons of fun writing a little bit of the fic everyday.

Fave fic you read this year?

THE FIVE WISHES YOU FULFILLED TO ME BEFORE I DIED, by (@)tartagliaxx! i love the emotional maturity of this fic and how it handles the topic of death so gracefully. the last chapter was something i did not expect (in a sense, i was fooled), but it was a very pleasant surprise and i love the spin of it. there are many beautiful metaphors as the author talks about the experiences of handling a dying loved one which i loved. impressed with this author's stamina because i cannot write a fic this long, lol.

Fave ship you wrote for?

tighnari and reader in REACHING OUT. i wrote this piece when i received news that my friend was travelling overseas and he had no intention of returning. but, even if he did, his absence would impact the friend group dynamic's a lot--and it did--which made me... grief a lot. i wrote this as a conversation between myself and an alternative point of view symbolic of tighnari. however, after the whole year, i realised that reader and tighnari sort of morphed into their own relationship. they're cute (in my head).

Fave character POV to write!

ohhh reader in TUG OF NURTURE (baizhu). in this fic, reader is turning into a zombie, so i had to think about how that would feel like. what even is a zombie anyway? it was fun. an honourable mention would be reader in FOOLISH LOGIC (tighnari), as they are a robot. the issue is that writing in the 3 statement = 1 conclusion can be a bit boring if dragged for too long.

Fave line you wrote!

There are a few who rush through the storeroom shouting for their young master, but they cannot find him.

from SEARCH IN VAIN (xingqiu)! in this fic, xingqiu's role as the second son of feiyun and xingqiu is thinly separated. that is the context that, i feel, makes this line cool. they are trying to find their young master, but they cannot find him. he is not there. instead, it is xingqiu.

WIP you finally finished!

not necessarily finished... but i am glad i tried writing every day for the month of august! it was really fun. being able to write for 12 days straight was inspiring, and that prompted me to make SLO'S MONTHLY REPORT, a newsletter where i hope to share 1 work every month.

WIP you've yet to finish!

i know i don’t talk about it much but i would really like to rewrite AND expand on FOR YOUR SAKE (chongyun). when i wrote it, i was plagued by the idea to the point i had to publish what i’ve already written to give myself breathing space. i had an idea for a 2/3 part story then, but i just didn’t have the energy or time (or effort to fork out both) for this wip. maybe next year!

Your most read fic this year!

probably… READY, AIM, FIRE (venti)? i am not someone who looks back regularly, and often times notes aren’t an accurate indicator for viewership, but i uploaded it to ao3 and it seems pretty loved there as well.

Your longest fic this year!

SERIOUS SCHEMES AND SINCERE SINS (thoma). it was a whooping 2.8k fic even though i limited myself to 1.5k words MAX. but it is thoma, so i had to. funnily enough, my longest fic for 2022 was also a thoma fic! haha.

Your shortest fic this year!

THROUGH THICK AND THIN (mika). it sits at around 600 words. i wanted it to be a drabble (100 words only), but i couldn't do it. maybe another time!

Fave fic title you used!

THE DUET OF ONE HEART (alhaitham)! this is a small symbolism to the fic. although alhaitham and reader are enemies, because they are on equal grounds to compete they understand each other so well, and their hearts "become one". i think it's a nice title because duet = two people, but it's a duet of one heart—a heart of two people combined. do you see it? XD

Biggest surprise while writing this year!

probably the launch of the steambird’s discord! we’re still a pretty small community, but it has been a blast discussing things and sharing posts with them. we have a writing event due and i look forward to that! also, it’s nice to have people to do writing sprints with.

Fave comment you received this year!

being told that there is an air of domesticity in my fics! i think it’s really endearing if a fic has that domesticity, because it alludes to authenticity and also just the general vibe of the author and reader being friends, and the author is telling their story openly. i’m glad my stories come across that way! i write to connect with people, so i like that it is easy to reach (domestic being associated with homely, comfortable, etc).

Fave fic author to read this year!

@andromeda-nova-writing !! my friend uploaded so many fics this year, including a whole world for vampire!ayato. really proud of her, and i adore her skills in dialogue that really adds a beautiful flow to the fics she writes.

Total fics/chapters uploaded this year!

from the tags i use on this blog (assuming i've tagged things properly), i have a total of 22 fics on thomine. most of them are from au august. i hope to write even more this year! final boss is nanowrimo.

What are you looking forward to next year?

writing more long fics! over the years, i realise my ideas are growing in maturity. they’re no longer ideas that can simply be confined to just 1-2k one-shots. they need space to build itself and grow, so i would like to write longer fics this year. may my fics average to about 3-4k words 🙏 i would need to build a stamina for that, so let’s work on it slowly!

[thornedrose44]

Prompt: Lena accidentally creates something that makes everyone attracted to her except kara (she is immune) basically jealous!kara 😬

Read on AO3 (Prompt from @urjustwaiting)

“My dearest Lena,” Brainy began, brown eyes bright and earnest as he cradled Lena’s hand in both of his like it was something precious and fragile, “I have always considered you to be my intellectual equal and a friend of the highest order. Recently, however, I have found my feelings of friendship for you have shifted - grown into something unexpected and wondrous.”

Brainy inhaled sharply, gathering his courage as Lena’s eyes widened with abject shock and horror at what was occurring.

“Lena Luthor, I have fallen irrevocably in love with you”, Briany declared confident and unfalteringly certain, “and I was wondering if I could spend time conversing with you over a sizeable meal?”

To say Lena’s day had started strangely would be the understatement of the century. She had arrived at the DEO following the news that there had been an attempted break-in last night at the secret facility that had been successfully fended off by Kara, Brainy, Nia and Andrea (the newest superhero to join the club).

Alex, who had taken her first night off since becoming director, had rushed onsite as soon as she was alerted to what had happened; her first order had been to bring Lena in to evaluate the building’s defenses and put in suitable improvements for any weaknesses identified. It was a sign of how much trust Lena had earned amongst the Superfriends, and more specifically Alex, that no one hesitated to call her in for help with something as sensitive as security flaws.

Lena had fought hard to earn back the trust she had nearly lost, rebuild the bridges both sides had burnt and therefore she didn’t balk at the ridiculously early wake-up call and did not even consider saying no to Alex’s request.

The second she arrived at the DEO, she knew something was off.

People were staring at her, which shouldn’t have been odd for a Luthor in the slightest but Lena was used to being ignored at the DEO. The agents milling the corridors would give fleeting glances and welcoming nods but nothing more - many of them owed their life to a last minute scientific breakthrough courtesy of Lena’s intellect and as such they respected her enough to treat her like she was one of them - like she belonged here - because of it. Walking into the DEO to find herself the subject of many furtive gazes and unsubtle wandering eyes was therefore worrisome to say the least.

Lena’s concern merely increased as she made her way further into the DEO where she couldn’t go more than a metre without being approached by agents trying out a cheesy pick-up line or inviting her to coffee/dinner. Two rather charming agents actually dropped down on one knee at the same time to propose to her there and then - Lena was saved from answering as her wannabe future spouses got into a fist fight. The worst one, by far, was Pam from HR who shouted that she was enthusiastically willing to bear all of Lena’s future children - Lena promptly sprinted into the command centre and had been momentarily relieved to see Brainy there waiting for her.

The relief was obviously dashed a minute later when Brainy grabbed her hand and sweetly announced his love for her.

“Brainy, what the hell!?”

Those were the exact words Lena had wanted to shout but had been unable to find her voice to do so, thankfully (or not so as the case may be), Nia had voiced them for her and was striding into the room with a furious expression on her face.

“Nia, it’s not what it looks like-” Lena rushed to reassure as Nia pushed her boyfriend away from the youngest Luthor.

“How could you?!” Nia demanded, rounding on the Coulan.

“Nia, I think there’s something wrong-” Lena began to interrupt, knowing how much Brainy loved Nia and her alarm bells from the agents earlier ringing loudly in her head when....

“I wanted to ask her out.” Nia exclaimed stamping her foot childishly before turning to face Lena with fluttering eyelashes and a seductive pout. “Lena, please my love is far more real than Brainy’s. Don’t go out with him.” Nia pleaded as Briany scoffed derisively behind her.

“Lena is smart enough to see through your fraudulent affection. She was on the precipice of accepting my offer of a date.” Briany cut in with a superior raise of his chin.

“No, she wasn’t!” Nia rebuked, turning back to Brainy with clenched fists.

“Yes, she was!” Brainy returned, chest puffing out as they both stepped forward as if to engage in battle when a sudden red and blue blur appeared between them as a physical barrier.

“What on Earth is going on?” Kara questioned, brow creased in confusion as she looked between the couple that seemed to be seconds away from trading blows.

“I LOVE LENA MORE!” They both shouted in answer whilst they simultaneously lunged towards one another.

“What?!” Kara gasped as she hurriedly tried to keep the two apart. “Lena?” Kara asked, wide-eyed and gobsmacked, clearly looking for an explanation.

“I don’t know!” Lena responded quick and panicked. “I came in and everyone’s been…”

“Everyone’s been what?” Kara prompted as she ducked a wild swing from a feisty Nia.

“Like this.” Lena gestured to Briany and Nia who were futilely trying to dodge around the kryptonian superhero.

Kara blinked rapidly at this information but reacted quickly, super speeding Brainy and Nia away from the command centre as carefully as she could. Kara was back less than a minute later, appearing harried and uncomfortable but she wasn’t looking at Lena any differently to normal. Soft blue eyes watched her the exact same way and as soon as she was back, she gently encouraged Lena into their standard hug with a light touch to her elbow.

Lena folded happy and willing into Kara’s arms burying her face into the kyrptonian’s shoulder as Kara gently stroked her back.

“So… interesting morning so far?” Kara teased managing to pull forth a relieved chuckle from the CEO.

“You could say that.” Lena sighed, letting her eyes slip closed for a fleeting second as she quickly inhaled Kara’s familiar airy scent before pulling away and putting her armour back on. “I seem to have suddenly become irresistible to everyone here.” Lena explained, nearly convincing herself that she saw a flash of a sad pout on her best friend’s face when she ended their hug. “Except for you, of course.” Lena clarified.

“Well… uh… I…” Kara stammered, face blushing a bright red as she self-consciously rubbed the back of her neck.

“Don’t worry, Kara, I’m not offended.” Lena reassured, giving Kara an out even as it caused her heart to painfully twinge with a familiar loss and yearning that always accompanied the realisation that Kara would never see her the same way.

“Lena-” Kara began, lips pressed tight together as she took a tentative step forward.

“Lena, there you are!”

Kara and Lena’s heads turned immediately to see Andrea striding into the room, dressed to impress in a tight black dress and red soled heels that drew attention to her long, sinful legs.

“Oh, dear…” Lena murmured, swallowing thickly, as Andrea approached with a dark predatory gaze that promised to fulfill all of Lena’s long forgotten teenage fantasies.

Lena was so fixated on the sight of her first crush looking like she was about to devour her right there in the DEO command centre that she didn’t see the heavy frown form on Kara’s face, nor the way blue eyes flickered red for a flash.

The sound of a rumbling growl was the only thing that broke through Lena’s stupor and pre-empted a red-blue blur sweeping Andrea out of the room, presumably to deposit her in the same place as Brainy and Nia.

“Was that your stomach?” Lena asked when Kara reappeared a few moments later.

“Was what my stomach?”

“That growling noise?” Lena inquired with a tilt of her head.

“Uhhhh….” Kara’s mouth opened and closed, the tips of her ears turning red before she nodded her head in jerky agreement. “Yep, stomach, super hungry, no breakfast.”

“You must be, you’re dropping verbs.” Lena joked.

“Uh huh.” Kara muttered, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot as she intermittently shot discouraging glares to any agents that looked like they were even considering coming up to Lena. “Do you have any idea what’s causing this?” Kara questioned, placing her hands on her hips and trying to ease into her Supergirl persona.

“No.” Lena answered honestly.

“Were you exposed to anything? Or working with anything that might have caused something like this?” There was no accusation within the questions, just genuine curiosity and a desire to work through the possible causes. Lena didn’t doubt Kara’s trust in her, not after everything they had been through.

“No.” Lena replied after thinking carefully.

“You were here yesterday and everyone was fine.” Kara rationalised, “So it must have happened since you left.”

“Kara, I didn’t do anything after I left. I went home, watched a documentary, had a bath and went to bed as I promised you.”

Lena’s work hours since re-taking L-Corp as her own had exploded and her rare free time was regularly being utilised to support the Superfriends. Lena had spent yesterday tweaking Kara’s supersuit to improve its diagnostic capabilities to provide Kara an edge when flying into an unknown situation. It had taken Kara forcibly frog marching her out of the building and using her puppy dog eyes to get Lena to promise that she would finally go home and relax.

“Good girl.” Kara said, softening immediately at Lena’s answer, blue eyes twinkling with pride.

Lena internally screamed at herself to keep her praise kink under tight control.

“Then maybe something happened overnight? Or whilst you were on your way in?” Kara continued to theorise allowing Lena much needed time to regain her cool.

“Unlikely,” Lena replied thoughtfully, “I stopped for coffee on my way in and no one there acted oddly. It wasn’t until I got to the DEO that things changed.”

“Then-”

“SOMETHING WEIRD IS GOING ON!” Alex announced as she strode in, practically snarling at the agents that were working at their consoles, all of whom had looked a second away from getting to their feet and rushing eagerly towards the older Danvers as soon as she appeared.

Kara, meanwhile, instantly moved to be slightly in front of Lena like a personal shield ready to jump forward but careful not to overstep and diminish the CEO’s autonomy - Lena couldn’t help how her heart fluttered at Kara’s mindful concern.

“Are you in love with Lena too?” Kara challenged, narrowing her gaze at her sister.

Alex came to a sharp and sudden stop, jaw dropping open as she looked between Kara and Lena, “Too?” Alex echoed, and Lena watched in confusion as a slow and incredibly bright grin appeared to light up the Director’s face. “Did you finally-”

“BrianyandNiaareinlovewithLena!” Kara yelled, panicked and fast paced, hands flapping wildly at her sides.

The smile vanished alongside whatever Alex had been about to say. “I’m sorry, did you say Brainy and Nia are in love with Lena?”

“Yep.” Kara popped as she let out an unusually large sigh of relief that made Lena think she may have missed something important in the sister’s aborted interaction. “As well as nearly all the DEO agents, but no one from the coffee shop so we think it's localised to here which is weird because we can’t seem to find a potential cause that would explain that.” Kara rambled, clearly intent on brushing over whatever had just happened. “Therefore I asked if you were in love with Lena like Briany, Nia and Andrea.” Kara explained placing unnecessary emphasis on their friends' names.

Alex glanced from Kara to Lena, frowning heavily, “Sorry Lena but I’m quite happily taken.”

“Shame.” Lena tsked, earning her an affectionate eye roll from the redhead, before being struck by a sudden realisation. “Wait, then why were you coming in yelling that something weird is going on if you didn’t know about me?”

Alex shot a look over her shoulder before moving closer to the other two and dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “People are being… ‘overly friendly’ to me.”

Kara and Lena shared a look.

“Hey!” Alex snapped, bringing guilty green and blue eyes back to her. “I’m being serious here!”

“So by ‘overly friendly’ you mean…” Lena prompted.

“People keep trying to hug me and ask me how my day is going. And they keep… complimenting me.” Alex whispered like she was sharing some heinous crimes.

Both Kara and Lena’s eye muscles twitched with the desire to share another look but they managed to resist - just.

“It’s weird.” Alex defended haughtily. “Yesterday, they were too scared to look me in the eye for longer than a second and now they can’t go ten seconds without giving me a motivational speech about how good a job I’m doing.”

“It could be worse.” Lena said trying to be comforting,

“How?” Alex huffed.

“Well, Pam from HR told me she wanted to bear my children.” Lena said with a shrug that was immediately followed by a loud CRUNCHING noise.

Lena turned to find the source of the ear-splitting sound only to discover that the round titanium table Kara had been leaning against was now heavily crumpled around two tightly clenched kryptonian fists.

“Kara?” Lena squeaked whilst Alex merely face-palmed.

***

“It doesn’t make sense.” Lena mused, unknowingly posed like ‘The Thinking Man’ on the stool as Alex and Kara paced the space.

They had made the wise decision to move to what was considered Lena’s lab at the DEO to free themselves of the foot traffic of the command centre that had both Danvers sisters glowering at any agents that dared to approach (though for vastly different reasons).

“What are you thinking Luthor?” Alex asked, plopping herself down heavily on the stool by the CEO.

“Disparate pieces that don’t logically fit together.” Lena murmured quietly more to herself than to the other two before she lifted her head and tried to slowly talk through what her mind was attempting to process. “Whatever happened, clearly happened in the last,” Lena glanced at her watch, grimacing at the time as her head pounded with lack of sleep, “eight hours. I left here at six yesterday and no one was acting any differently to normal. Whatever has happened changes people’s behaviour towards us.” Lena gestured between herself and Alex, “but only us. And whatever is doing it is localised to the DEO.”

Lena paused, giving the sisters a chance to disagree with her assertion of facts, both Danvers nodded in agreement and encouragement to continue.

“Therefore, we have two options:” Lena continued, laying out the two theories she was working with, “either something happened at the DEO that is causing this and we are merely triggers for it. Or something happened specifically to us and being here is triggering it.”

Alex pursed her lips, thinking carefully through Lena’s logic, “Which do you think is more likely?”

“Something happening at the DEO.” Lena answered with a shrug, “One target, one location, rather than two is more straightforward.”

“Agreed.” Alex sighed, “And we know something did happen after we both left last night.”

“The attempted break in.” Lena concurred.

Alex nodded, shifting to face the kryptonian who had been listening intently to the conversation, “Kara, give us a rundown of what happened.”

Kara frowned, hands moving to rest on her hips in classic Supergirl pose, “It was just dumb thugs looking to make a quick buck. They’d stumbled upon some alien tech that they knew fetched a good price on the black market. Rather than sell it quickly and get away with it, they got greedy. They knew more tech was held here and figured they could double their profits if they used the tech they already had to pull off a heist.”

“I want it noted that the DEO is the worst kept secret in this city,” Lena snarked, with a roll of her eyes, “and that’s saying something considering Supergirl's disguise is a pair of glasses.”

“Noted,” Alex grunted, shooting the youngest Luthor a smug smirk, “which is why making it your job to fix that for us.”

Lena chuckled darkly, “You couldn’t afford my consultation fees.”

Alex’s smugness increased tenfold at that, her chin lifting defiantly as she laid down her ace, “That’s why I’m making Kara be the one to ask you.”

Lena gasped, utterly outraged, “You underhanded-“

“Guys, focus!” Kara bellowed, clapping her hands loudly together to break the two of them out of their regular snarky banter that could go on for a good hour if not interrupted quickly (it was how they showed their affection for one another).

“Right.”

“Sorry.”

Alex and Lena murmured apologetically, gazes dropping to the floor as Kara shook her head in amusement at their familiar antics.

“What tech did they use?” Alex questioned, bringing them back on track.

“Stupid gas.”

Lena’s brow furrowed at the response and Alex’s aggrieved grunt that followed it, “I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s a bio weapon that makes-“

“People stupid?” Lena guessed.

“Hyper emotional, but… yeah.” Alex clarified, “Like when I was exposed to it, I just laughed for like an hour straight.”

Lena hummed thoughtfully, brain whirring away to make connections with this new information, “Are kryptonians immune?”

“No.” Alex laughed, earning her a pout from the Super that made Lena take a mental note to beg Kara for the obvious story behind it another time.

“Then why isn’t Kara affected by all of this?” Lena questioned, throwing in the other variable they hadn’t considered.

“Now that you mention it, the stupid gas didn’t work on me last night.”

Alex’s face scrunched up in confusion, “It did last time.”

Kara shrugged, seemingly unconcerned, “I think Lena’s upgraded suit protected me.”

“My upgraded…” Lena began slowly, her eyes suddenly going wide as she recognised the suit Kara was currently wearing to be the one she had been tinkering with all day yesterday, “Kara, I told you not to wear that yet. I hadn’t finished tweaking it!”

Kara winced at the sharp tone, hands flying up in supplication and surrender, as she whined defensively, “It worked perfectly Lena.”

“That’s not the point-“ Lena rebuked, crossing her arms aggressively causing the superpowered alien to shrink under her green-eyed glare.

“Kara’s not affected...” Alex murmured, though her voice was quiet there was something sharp to her tone that cut through the room - it was the tone that preceded a ‘Eureka’.

“Alex?” Kara and Lena both prompted.

“I have an idea.” Alex announced jumping to her feet, and snatching up her jacket, “I need to test something out.”

“Okay, what are you thinking?” Kara called out as Alex rushed out of the lab.

“I’m thinking that I’m grateful I memorised the number of that twenty four hour Chinese takeaway.”

***

Lena and Alex stood back and watched in complete horror as the DEO agents ravaged the table loaded up with potstickers, stuffing their mouths with ten at a time and throwing punches over the last handfuls. They had to forcibly pull Kara away from the scene who twitched with the obvious desire to throw herself into the mix to get a share for herself.

“I don’t understand.” Kara wailed, stamping her foot pathetically, once they had returned to the lab.

“Oh my god.” Lena muttered, snatching up the tablet she had been using yesterday and scrolling through everything she had done to Kara’s suit, leaving the explanation task to the older Danvers.

“They’re feeling what you feel.” Alex announced, “Lena and I aren’t the catalyst. You are.”

Kara’s crinkle appeared and deepened.

“It’s why everyone has been so friendly to Alex.” Lena mumbled, taking over the explanation absentmindedly as she distractedly ran through data, looking between the suit upgrades and the specification of ‘Stupid Gas’. “They feel your sisterly love for her and are treating her like you would but to an extreme degree. It must be because of their exposure to the gas mixed with some upgrade I put into your suit.” Lena frowned, mind running a mile a minute, “I fitted in further diagnostic capabilities that might be able to identify biological toxins and alert you, but-“ Lena froze, head snapping upwards to stare dumbly at her best friend, her entire brain grinding to a dead halt.

“Lena?” Kara inquired, blue eyes instantly glowing with concern at Lena’s absolute stillness and dead-eyed stare.

Alex nudged Kara’s side and whispered helpfully, “I think she’s just realised.”

“Realised what?”

Alex directed a soft and understanding smile at her sister, “How people have been acting towards her and what that means…”

“Oh…” Kara squeaked, paling considerably and breath held tight as she waited for Lena to finally react.

“You want to bear my children?!” Lena yelled incredulously, shattering the awkward silence with that explosive revelation.

Kara’s entire body flushed crimson, as she spluttered out (unable to stop herself), “Ummm… I mean… Preferably after a few dates…”

“Annnnnnd that’s my cue…” Alex announced, turning on her heel sharply and marching out of the room.

Lena blinked repeatedly, still not fully rebooted from this turn of events and everything it could potential - hopefully - entail.

“Lena… I…” Kara began, voice thick with emotion as she took timid, shaky steps towards her best friend, “I don’t know what to say…”

“You love me?” Lena asked, the bluntness of the question softened by the tremble to her voice that highlighted the vulnerability and hope of the question.

It was the hopefulness in Lena’s voice and the way green eyes were dark with poorly hidden want that gave Kara the courage to lift her chin, puff out her chest and declare sincerely, “More than anything.”

Lena let out a shaky breath, throwing her tablet down on the bench and demanding sternly, “Take off the suit.”

“Really?” Kara’s eyes bulged at the request, the flush from earlier deepening to a boiled crimson, “I mean I’m not saying no but I was kind of hoping we could go out on a date first. Maybe? If you’re interested?”

“Kara,” Lena said stepping forward into Kara’s personal space which effectively stopped Kara’s ramble, “you’re still wearing the upgraded suit which is feedbacking to everyone in the DEO your emotions. If you take it off everyone goes back to normal.”

“Oh,” Kara breathed, shaking her head with embarrassment, “I thought-“

Lena reached out, threading her fingers through Kara’s golden hair affectionately before seeking out the nape of her neck to gently tug Kara down the couple of inches between them so that she could press their lips hotly together. Kara’s hands instantly sought out Lena’s hips even as her mouth slipped open granting access to Lena’s insistent tongue.

Lena’s free hand traced the emblem on the supersuit whilst she teased her nails against Kara’s neck earning her an appreciative groan that served as the only warning before Kara effortlessly hoisted Lena up onto the lab bench pressing eagerly forward into the space between Lena’s legs.

Lena nipped at Kara’s bottom lip before breaking away, panting heavily to regain her breath. Kara, meanwhile, didn’t even hesitate to track kisses down Lena’s jaw and neck, sucking at her pulse-point until Lena’s legs wrapped tightly around Kara’s body desperately trying to earn some relief.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?” Lena gasped.

“Oh, I do.” Kara murmured earnestly, leaning back to fully appreciate how wrecked Lena looked.

Lena lightly shoved Kara back with a playful laugh, fingers tapping against the edges of Kara’s supersuit emblem as she quirked a mischievous eyebrow. “The sooner you take this off, the sooner the problem is fixed and we can go on that date.”

Kara’s entire expression lit up at that and in flash she had disappeared only to return less than a second later dressed in the DEO sweatsuit that Lena adored.

“Shall we?” Kara checked, bouncing up and down so excitedly that Lena couldn’t resist pulling her back in for another deep kiss.

[imaslutforremusandsirius]

Mutual longing

It’s 03:43 and I missed writing James, uf i love this one

Warning: 18+

---

Oh, James is a breathtaking sight. With his dark hair and twinkling eyes, his tall toned body and charming smile. His smooth voice and irresistible accent. He is the whole package.

Lost in thought you imagined him fucking you against the wall, his big hand over your mouth to contain your moans as he pounded you aggressively-

„Hey“ Lily chirped, leaning over the table to give you a friendly hug, „Sorry I‘m late, head girl shit.“

You hugged her back, acting as if you didn‘t just imagine getting absolutely railed by the fellow head boy.

„Don‘t worry ‘bout it. Haven‘t been long anyway.“

Lily rolled her eyes and gave you a teasing smile.

„Knowing you, you probably showed up fifteen minutes early to be polite. You can give me shit you know, I deserve it.“

You laughed lightly before you furrowed your brows dramatically and held up a finger much like Professor McGonagall when she lectured the marauders again.

„Lily Evans you little shit. Hopefully you will have a long dreadful nightmare for the shit you put me through!“

Lily smirked at you and nodded, impressed with your choice of words.

„That would be James trying to hug me again, so no thank you.“ She clapped her hands. „Right, lets start.“

You couldn‘t help but think of just how fucking hot it would be to be in James‘ strong arm. Breathless moans and impatient hands tugging down your skirt. His hands all over your body, slowly moving down towards your-

Fuck.

---

Sometime during your meetup Remus appeared and sat down with you. Then came Peter. With him Sirius and of course James.

„I swear Black if you don‘t shut the fuck up“ Lily said forcefully, very close to yelling, „I‘m gonna beat your stupid face with this book!“

Sirius’ wand fell from between his clenched jaw, he was trying to impersonate a growling dog, and he rolled his eyes.

„Calm down, Evans. Besides, Remus would totally not appreciate that, considering my face is number one in his list of“, he cleared his throat theatrically, „Reasons why Sirius Black is the most enchanting being I‘ve ever fucked.“

Remus, already used to Sirius‘ crude remarks, just continued to read his book, his index finger tracing shapes on Sirius‘ palm absentmindedly.

„I agree“ Remus mumbled, missing the way Sirius blushed and melted with his next words, „Sirius is enchanting.“

Sirius, content with the attention he got, leaned his head against his boyfriends shoulder and finally shut his mouth. Lily smiled gratefully at Remus, who send her a wink, the corner of his lips pulling up slightly to show that he had said it on purpose. Not that they needed to know just how accurate Sirius had been with the list.

You threw a glance at James and saw him engrossed with his potions textbook, lips moving silently as he read through the pages. Taking the time to admire him from up close, you watched how his brows would furrow and ease up whenever he worked out a problem, how he would bite his lip in concentration or scratch his nose and push up his glasses when they slipped down his nose.

Truly handsome. Sex on legs.

Fuck why can‘t he just touch you already.

For someone who flirts on the daily he sure was oblivious to girls who were actually interested in him. And not gay, unlike Lily, who literally had a pin on her bag with the lesbian flag on it.

Might get a pin with “Fuck me James“ printed on it. Maybe then he‘ll know, you thought bitterly.

You had already planned a whole color scheme for the pins when a foot nudged your shin under the table and forced you out of your head.

„Need help“ James whispered and slid his worksheet over to you, „Please?“

Oh hell yes. No need to beg, Potter.

„Sure“ You said, congratulating yourself for sounding confident, „Give me a min.“

Reading through the question your took a moment to think about the answer, scribbling it down yourself instead of telling him. You weren‘t sure how long you could gaze into his eyes and act like you didn‘t have wet dreams about him.

Satisfied you looked back up and noticed him already looking at you, or more specifically your mouth.

A devilish idea crossed your mind. Oh, yes.

Acting as if you were still thinking, you bit your lip softly, tracing your bottom lip with your tongue to leave it glistening pink. James swallowed, hand loosening his tie and he lowered his head with blushing cheeks.

„Here“ You smiled, gently sliding the paper back to him and shivered a little when your fingertips touched.

His fingers had to business being so close to the top of the sheet, considering he was sitting across from you and could have just grabbed the bottom part. Hope flared in your chest when you saw him just as taken aback by the touch and you basked in the radiant grin he shot you from under his mop of hair.

Your stomach swarmed with butterflies and you let out a small breath, thighs clenching.

Oh James.

„I should get going“ You said after a while, not in the mood to study anymore.

James‘ head whipped up and he got up as well, packing his bag in time with you. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you refrained from making your excitement too obvious.

„Yeah me too, I‘m tired. Goodnight.“ James rushed and gently pulled you along by the strap of your bag.

The others just grumbled in response, Sirius fast asleep and drooling while Remus waved his hand dismissively. Lily muttered a quick, „I‘ll join in a few minutes“, which actually translates to hours.

Since the others aren‘t here I could have some alone time with James.

Oh shit, there goes your brain. It was really creative when it came to imagening James‘ moans, considering you never heard them before. Or his dick. Fuck.

You silently made your way upstairs and sadly it was an awkward one. Frankly you blamed James for being so hot that you literally had no clue what to say, not knowing that he thought the exact same thing. Sure he is all for, „Everyone can wear what they bloody want“ and he had proven that point by wearing skirts multiple times, but fuck-

You in that skirt has to be criminal by some kind of law right? Has to be a sin in some kind of religion? And don‘t get him started on your lips-

James shook his head to get rid of the mental images and focused on his breathing. Praying that you wouldn’t see his boner.

Somehow you had made it to the empty common room and turned to each other at the same time to say goodnight. Both of you had not considered the distance between your faces, which proved to be extremely short with your noses bumping painfully.

„I‘m so-“

Your words died down when James kissed you hard, his big hands - oh those big, callous hands you‘ve been dreaming about for weeks finally touching your cheeks to pull you impossibly close.

Stunned by his sudden desire to kiss you, you pulled your head away to look into his face and what you saw made you smash your lips on his and his back against the wall.

His quiet, absolutely submissive noises shot straight into your blood and you press your hips against his to hear more of it. His arms were wrapped around your neck, hands buried in your hair as he opened your legs with his knee to press his thigh between your legs.

The rough fabric of his pants made you shudder and your hands slid down his upper body until you got to his cock. James head sank against the wall with a dirty moan as you put your hand in his pants to touch him. Shit, his skin was so soft and hot and he already has precum on the tip.

James lips met yours sloppily as he pushed you backwards onto the couch and sank down between you legs on the ground, moving your feet to rest on the cushion. He clearly didn‘t have any more patience in him and made quick work of pushing your panties aside to rub his fingers against your soaking entrance.

„Come on, James“ You moaned, bucking against him when he finally pushed two fingers inside.

„Mmm look at you“ James groaned out, leaving kisses along your inner thighs and let out wanton sound when your cunt clenched around him.

You didn‘t care about anything but his fingers fucking you at this point, whining when the cool metal of his ring pressed against your clit. You jerked at the hot sensation of his tongue curling around your clit, greedily sucking your pussy lips into his mouth.

„Oh James!“ You whimpered breathlessly, pulling his face so close that his nose was smushed against your lower belly, feeling the vibrations of every moan he let out shoot directly to your cunt.

Pulling him up by his hair you kissed him again, panting into his open mouth when he kept pistoning his fingers into your cunt.

„Please let me fuck you“ James begged needily, brows pinched in longing to feel you around his throbbing cock, „Please I can‘t wait anymore!“

Instead of answering, you pushed his pants down with your heels and trapped him between your legs. James hissed in relief when he felt some kind of friction on his cock and eased himself inside.

„Oh“ James let out a broken whimper, head thrown back in sheer bliss, „Feel so good.“

You couldn’t answer, way to enamored with the way he stretched you open so deliciously, watching his cock push into your body. Oh fuck, the sight was so dirty and crass and yet you couldn‘t take your eyes off him.

„James“ You gasped with difficulty, „James please ‘m‘gonna cum!“

James bend your legs so they were over his shoulders and pounded you harshly, face screwed up in ecstasy with the way you cried out his name. Your moans cut off only to be replaced by sobs when the tip of his cock hit your g-spot over and over again.

„Yes yes yes“ James chanted, pressing his forehead on yours to stare at your dazed expression, „tell me how you feel!“

Your shook your head quickly, signaling him that you couldn‘t possibly form a coherent sentence, but his persisted.

„Tell me how you feel!“ James hissed, thumb suddenly on your clit and you broke.

„Good good so fucking good“ You cried, latching on his body to encourage him to fuck you harder.

„Prove it“ James moaned brokenly, „Cum for me!“

His other hand wrapped around your delicate throat and squeezed firmly, making you tip over the edge and cry out your release. James‘ orgasm made him tremble so violently that he couldn‘t hold himself up anymore, collapsing on your chest with a deep throaty whimper as he filled your cunt with his hot cum.

„Fuck yes“ James ground out, hips still pushing in and out of you, like he couldn’t bear the thought of stopping. He raised his head to watch you, his pupils still dilated, pink lips quivering with aftershocks.

James looked absolutely wrecked and satisfied. He stared at you as if staring at a goddess, nuzzling close to hear your heartbeat.

„You okay?“ James asked quietly and tucked himself back in to help you clean up.

„Yeah, perfect.“ You grinned, letting him help you up and pull you towards his dorm.

He gave you a playful smile, but you saw the slight nervousness in his eyes.

„Stay?“

God, yes. Finally. Fuck those pins, who needs them.

„Yes.“

[amistytown]

Power Over Me (Leviathan x GN!MC)

Leviathan x GN!MC as Lord of Shadow and Henry; MC is referred to as Henry but remains gender-neutral. I enjoy the TSL lore in Obey Me and wanted to write a bit for it. I initially had an alternate ending in mind, but I decided to save it for another idea I might write at some point. Tried to keep Levi in character while giving him and the story a slightly different feel since it takes place in a fantasy world. Also listened to Power Over Me by Dermot Kennedy on repeat while I wrote this so chose to title it accordingly. Hopefully, it turned out all right. Trigger warning for mentions of blood and self-deprecating thoughts. Mostly some angst with fluff. As always, sorry for the typos that I may have missed, and thank you to everyone who takes the time to read. I appreciate it!

Lightning illuminates the throne room, the Lord of Shadow watching the rain batter the windows, gaze sullen. A storm rages outside, mirroring the flood of emotion bursting forth to drown him in misery. Though he can only hold himself accountable, allowing his envy to fester and take possession of his heart in a moment of weakness. He regrets the letters he frantically wrote in his jealously, the heated words exchanged between you, and your pain forever engrained into the parchment, the ink smudged by your tears, which now lay in pieces at his feet. He considered to make the journey to you, begging for your forgiveness, but he knows he’s undeserving. Instead, he mourns the loss of your friendship, the loneliness left in its wake burning him from the inside out as he cries into his hands, his tortured sobs lost to the thunder roaring above.

The doors swing open, light spilling in from the hall. He recoils at the intrusion, anger welling and threatening to spill over, his patience worn thin. A growl dies in his throat, eyes widening at the vision before him, so beautiful and precious his entire being aches with longing. Slowly, he takes in the sight of you, engraving every detail into his memory. Your windswept hair and the raindrops trickling down your face, clinging to your lashes and following the curve of your lips as you smile sweetly at him, staggering into his arms.

“Henry,” he whispers into the nape of your neck, daring to embrace you and revel in the feel of your body against his; your skin cool and soft, and your scent rich, intoxicating him. He’s certain he’s not worthy of your compassion, yet he can’t bear to turn you away, selfishly clinging to you and delighting in the fact you lean into him, your arms winding around his waist to pull him closer. My Henry, he thinks, tightening his grip, afraid he’ll lose you again if he’s not careful. “I’m sorry. I’m so so—”

You grow limp, legs buckling under your weight.

Fear engulfs him, heart lurching as he supports you, catching your hand in his. “Henry?” he whimpers, noticing how your chest heaves with each breath, and the way your brows knit in discomfort, a low groan slipping past clenched teeth. “Henry! What’s wrong? Tell me, please.”

“I ran into a bit of trouble on the way here,” you manage, laughing pitifully. “I didn’t realize . . .” Your fingers fumble to unclasp your cloak, and he swallows thickly at way lay beneath. Blood soaks your blouse—a sickening shade of red—the fabric sticking to your back.

“You didn’t realize?” he cries, incredulous. “Henry—”

“I just wanted to see you.” Your voice wavers, head lolling to the side. He calls to you, shaking you by the shoulders, desperate to keep you beside him. However, your eyes close, grief overtaking him when they don’t reopen.

“You’ll be okay,” he reassures, robes billowing around his ankles as he rushes down the corridor, gently cradling you to him. Guilt plagues him, reminding him how pathetic he is, especially for hurting you and putting your life at risk; how could he act so recklessly. You’re the light to his darkness, breathing life into his world, and he can’t accept losing you—his happiness—your love dispelling the shadows that once consumed him. He never knew a truer friend, and he’s positive there’s no one else who could play such an important role—you’re irreplaceable. There’s plenty of time to atone for his sins, tonight he needs to make sure you live to see the morning.

“I’ll take care of you, Henry. I promise.”

Time comes to an agonizing standstill.

The Lord of Shadow remains at your side, hoping and praying you don’t succumb to your wounds. He watches you closely, frequently checking your pulse and finding comfort in the steady beat of your heart while you sleep, looking deceivingly peaceful in his bed. His focus is on you, never straying from his true friend’s wellbeing despite his inner turmoil, which threatens to tear him apart at the seams. You keep him together, and again he’s at your mercy, owing you his life for all you’ve given him—his hero—his Henry. He hurt you, but you came to him and offered him forgiveness, willing to sacrifice yourself to save your friendship. How can you care about him with such ferocity, a brooding reclusive lord who’s unworthy of his title? No matter the days spent apart, you return to him, accepting him into your life without hesitance, and he can’t help welcoming you back with open arms.

“I’m so sorry,” he mutters. “I’m terrible. A worthless—”

“You’re not.”

For an excruciating second, he wonders if he imagined the glorious sound of your voice, and an anguished sob escapes him, tears clouding his vision. You stare up at him, eyes heavy with sleep, and a lazy smile on your lips. He’s dreaming, he reasons, shaking his head in disbelief. Then your hand is in his, familiar and warm; he shivers at your touch.

Gasping, he pulls away. “Y-you . . .”

“Forgive me,” you say, so understanding—so sweet—your kindness unfathomable. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“N-no,” he stammers, head spinning. “I’m sorry.” Tentatively, he reaches for your hand, fingers quivering as he entwines them with yours. “I’m sorry.” His tears come faster and harder, shamefully hot on his cheeks. He’s unable to articulate how sorry he is or how his very soul painfully throbs at the thought of hurting you—losing you—wishing he could turn back the clock. “For everything.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay,” you soothe. “I’m sorry, too.” Sitting upright, the blanket bunches at your waist, and he can see where the bandages peek out from beneath your shirt, the skin bruised, making him wince. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I’m the reason you’re hurt,” he chokes out, averting his gaze. “It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s not your fault.”

You’re wrong, he wants to say; however, he refrains.

“I don’t blame you,” you continue. “Look at me, please?”

He shouldn’t. Surely, he looks foolish, a mere hostage to his emotions. Nevertheless, he spares you a glance, wondering why you regard him so kindly—lovingly even—causing his heart to flutter.

“It’s not your fault.”

Not his fault? His mind tells him differently; it’s a sea of dread and uncertainty that washes over him in waves, dragging him under. The sincerity of your words is difficult to ignore, and, in that instance, he decides to trust you, finally breaking the surface. “Henry,” he murmurs, hugging you to him, arms wrapping around you protectively as if to shield you from the world. His tears wet your hair, body trembling, and you hold him, letting him come undone in your embrace.

“I wanted to see you,” you say, setting him alight. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering on your own.”

“Henry—”

“I know you’re struggling. It’s okay. I’m here.” You rub his back, resting your head on his chest. “I’ll always come when you call.”

“You’re the truest of friends, Henry. I fear I’m not worthy . . .”

“Of course, you are. I’ve never known a truer friend than you, my lord.”

“I can’t help worrying someone will steal you away. It’s selfish of me, I know. Though I feel so inferior in comparison. Sometimes I think you’re better off without me.” When he learned you met with the Lord of Corruption, his insecurities grew, fanning the flames of his envy. Why choose him over his brother? The Lord of Corruption could provide you with more than he can give. The rest of his brothers, too; they could care for you—protect you—unlike him. You’re here with him though, leaving his brother behind at a moment’s notice, and you did come when he called, eager to please. He wants to return the sentiment. “I can’t articulate how important you are to me. I . . . you’re so special, Henry.”

“No. No one compares to you.” Your praise captivates him. “All I ask is for you to trust me. Talk to me so I can help you. I accept you, all of you, and that’s not going to change. I love you as you are.”

“Love me?” he breathes.

“Yes, I love you.”

A simple but genuine vow of love. He stills, terrified he’ll faint in your arms as he hides his face, heart racing. The cynical part of him says it’s too good to be true, but he knows better—he knows you. He’s envisioned this moment, and it’s far sweeter than his fantasies, your love a beautiful feeling that sweeps him off his feet.

“Have you slept?”

He sighs, mouth unbearably dry. “No.”

“Come to bed. You should rest.”

“Henry! W-with you?”

“You say that as if it’s the first time we’ve shared a bed,” you tease.

“You’ll be the death of me.” Although he complains, the bed dips beneath his weight as he settles beside you, reaching for your hand. “Is this, okay?”

“It is.” Shifting onto your side, your hand tightens around his, a flicker of pain twisting your features.

He tenses, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“I’m all right. Better, thanks to you.”

He can see the exhaustion in your eyes, the dark circles beneath them, and the stiffness of your movements, betraying the smile you wear for him.

“Who hurt you?” he asks.

“No one you need to worry about. Not now.”

Unsurprising. You’re his Henry, besting him and his brothers on multiple occasions; anyone who chose to challenge you is a fool. Yet, your blood flowing freely, covering his hands—the ungodly stench—stayed with him. He clearly recalls your lifeless body, and how the color drained from your face, the heaviness of his heart breaking when he believed he lost you twice in one day. You looked so fragile then and do now, trusting him at your most vulnerable. Hatred for the one who dared to harm you runs deep and for himself for not protecting the one he loves.

“I thought I lost you,” he admits, inhaling sharply. “I-I . . .”

“You didn’t. You won’t.” You catch his tears as they fall. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you, too.” His declaration is quick and clumsy but true; he’s loved you for so long.

Caging you in his arms, he hovers over you, peering down at you shyly. His body shakes with every beat of his heart, ears ringing, but he admires you, gaze affectionate and a light blush dusting your cheeks. He’s scared. He’s scared of losing you most of all, trying to muster half the courage he knows you possess. “I love you, Henry,” he says softly, clutching your hand, his lifeline. Closing the distance between you, he catches your lips in a tender kiss, the magnificence of it sending a rush of blood to his head. He forgets how to breathe, dizzy on the taste of your love, and collapses next to you, questioning if he died and ascended to the heavens. With you by his side the future is much brighter, and, for once, he looks forward to what it brings.

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

Pact Marks | All Brothers

Request: pact mark hc with the brothers?

Word Count: 1971 words

Page Count: 5.5 pages

A.N.: hope you guys enjoy this!

Tags: none :)

[ U N D A T E A B L E S ]

Lucifer

Lucifer would place his pact mark on the space where your neck meets your ear, somewhere modest and easy to hide, something you could show and hide as you pleased. Though you could hide it, it was in an obvious spot, fitting for the Avatar of Pride. When you summon him or speak with him through it the pact mark glows a deep blue.

If you wear your hair down, he will play with your hair before rubbing the mark gently, and if he is in an extra soft mood he'll give it a quick kiss before moving on. If you wear your hair up he feels prideful, more so than usual, and it intensifies even more if it is a formal gathering where any and all can see it. He'll be glued to that one side where the mark is, and he'll lean in to whisper to you whenever he wants to speak with you, giving a quick kiss to it or just touching it before standing up again.

His pact mark with you on the palm of his hand, and he finds himself thumbing it mindlessly to comfort himself, he starts to understand why Beel does it when he's nervous. Lucifer isn't nervous though, he just likes to remind himself of you, he likes to touch the mark that proves you're both bound together in such a way. When he speaks to you through the mark or tries to look through your eyes, activating the mark, it glows a bright white and reminds him of a blessing mark that angels give.

Having a pact with Lucifer makes him feel light, in a literal and metaphorical sense, every time he even thinks of it.

You bring him light that he thought he had lost long ago.

Mammon

Mammon would keep your pact mark on your collar bone, in the center, right where your throat dips into your chest. He knew you were caring, and being around you had him feeling different, and he wanted to be greedy. Since he is more emotionally inclined, I like to think that he can connect with souls and auras better, so when he felt your soul and looked at it a bit closer he felt so connected to it he knew he wanted to get close with you. It glows a bright gold when it activates, and he loves it, so sometimes when you're sleeping he'll call to the mark and kinda just look in amazement. 

Since he is very touchy, he loves to lay his head down on it, and listens to your heart and the soft buzz of his magic in your skin. He falls asleep fastest on those nights.

His mark with you is in the same place, and like his older brother when you use it it glows a soft white, something he loves since it matches well with his demon markings. Run your nails over it and the boy m e l t s. Since he had his collar opened all the time he loves when people see it, he makes pacts with witches all the time but this is the first time he's allowed a mark on him, and this honestly has everyone just lowkey s h o o k. Like Mammon? The pact whore for grimm? Allowed a mark? on H I M ?

Having a pact with Mammon makes him feel pride, ironically, but also loved and wanted.

He actually feels like an equal, when all else isn't, this is the one time where it's you AND him.

Leviathan

His pact mark on you is on your foot and wraps around your ankle, it seems easy to hide, but you can never really hide it. Unless you're wearing shoes that cover your ankle often or pants that don't ride up your ankle, it's always showing somewhere. He is a strong swimmer and loves to see you swim too, so he knows legs are important for the task, and that's where the idea of placing his mark on your ankle came from. Sometimes, he'll jump in the tank with you, and since he can breathe underwater with his gills (broski I like the idea of him having gills P L E A S E), he'll sit back and chill with Henry swimming around his head, seeing your mark move with the rest of your leg.

When you use the mark, it becomes a soft orange, the same shade that hides behind his eyes when they become more snake-like. Lay your legs over him when he's playing games and he'll settle the controller on your other ankles, letting his fingers brush against the mark on the other. Little shit will even let his claws some out just to scratch them lightly and tickle you like a motherfucker.

His mark is on the ankle opposite of yours, so when you're both cuddling he'll link your ankle around his, the feeling of you WITH him blows his mind sometimes. Same case when he uses it, glows white, due to you being a human and having such a bright soul. 

Having a pact with Leviathan makes him feel like he's worth something.

You helped him gain confidence and become a demon that deserves the title of Avatar of Envy.

Satan

His pact mark runs from the top of your calf to about mid-thigh, right on the back of your leg, it's large, slender, and delicate. It glows neon green when activated, something that he honestly finds cool as hell, because:

1. It's something that means you have a piece of him with you.

2. You make it look awesome.

3. It's honestly so fucking cool.

Like Levi, when you're both relaxing, him reading and you doing work/listening to music, and your legs are on his, he'll touch the mark mindlessly and feel so at peace. But, if you're ticklish, guess who also is a little shit. If you're in bed, and laying on your stomach, he'll lay his head on your thigh and just trace his with a look on his face that says 'wow' and if you think of that meme, yes, that's valid.

His mark is on the top of his hand, he always gets to see it, looking at it shows him the progress he's made. He knows how to manage his anger and actively tries to have it processed through a better outlet. You helping him along the way makes him have hope, an emotion that could seem a bit foreign at times, but he likes it. He feels light.

Making a pact with Satan has him feeling like he can be anything he wants.

He can be himself, not an extension of someone else.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus has no shame, but, when he cares- when he really does, he wants to make it meaningful. He would place it on your hip and have it there and only there, it won't wrap around to your ass or to your front, just your hip. He loves to watch it glow a radiant pink, so he'll section off time to just lay his head on your lap and ask you to call him, the tug of magic and the light emanating from your skin does something to him. Sure, it could be lust, or maybe something more, you may be able to figure it out if he told you.

He didn't want to though. He'd just enjoy the feeling without having to figure it out, because figuring it out meant facing himself, and we can't have that just yet. His pact mark is right over his heart, though Mammon's mark is in the same area, it isn't right over his heart. It is settled right between his pectorals, a slight bit to the left, always hovering around the muscle that proves he's alive and able to love in some capacity.

He often would come up to you and just place his hand on it, palm flat against your hip while his mark would flare up in an ivory light, he swears he can feel your pulse through it and wonders if you can feel his.

Having a pact with Asmodeus makes him feel as if he can be seen past his title- which ever one, and just be himself.

He can devout himself to something that means more than him.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub's pact mark is not on your abdomen actually! He wanted to place it on his favorite spot, on the back of your shoulder, away from the place where his sin seems to ravage him. It of course, glows a deep crimson, but be prefers it when it isn't activated- because it means you're safe and you don't need to call on him to help. He loves when you sit on his lap, because of a few reasons.

1. You're with him :)

2. You're happy :)

3. He can look at your mark as much as he likes, especially if it's exposed, he'll "somehow" leave small kisses all over it. They're so soft, you can't help but laugh, it's ticklish at times. It becomes even more ticklish when he presses his face against it, and if you laugh, he laughs, his laughs against your skin either make you soft or cackle in delight.

4. Your pact mark is right against his!

Beel would have his pact mark right on his chest, matching it to the side you choose to have your pact mark on. This makes the big boi real emotional, and he'll sometimes let some magic through and it glows, and you're kinda like:

"I hope that's a glow stick and not you again Beel."

"Let's just say it's a glow stick for now."

Having a pact with Beelzebub means you're a part of his family, happy, and healthy.

It really just makes him emotional.

Belphegor

When you make a pact with Belphegor, this lil' shit is honestly so surprised you said yes, but considering it was a gift you probably said yes to be respectful. But... you didn't. 

Your pact mark with him is on the back of your neck, where the cervical vertebrae are, moving a bit lower to the thoracic spine. When you suggested it go there, he had to ask why, and boy did he tear up once you explained it to him later that night. You wanted to trust him again and put the past behind you, so what better place to mend a wound than the place that finally put your lights out?

Please don't say it like this to him though, if you do he would think you're joking.

But if that's how it comes out, he'll think you're joking, until he remembers you're you and... he gets it.

It glows purple when activated or when you're sleepy/ in some type of stress, he wants to read your emotions so he can help you as much as he can, make up for what was done. He would never admit it though, and you can tell he's trying his best. His mark would be in the same exact place, not only to remind him of what he did, but that he can do better to make amends. He punishes himself for your death and you try to ease him out of it- and though it takes time, you'll find your way to it. 

He finds himself doing what Beel does, and will bury his face into your mark when he cuddles into you, and places small kisses on it. If he is laying on you, please touch the mark, it manages to calm him into a good sleep. 

Making a pact with Belphegor means you're ready to grow and build something better with him.

You help him find a better path that he needs to walk down on his own.

[undermattsun-archive]

taste

(skate rat) kawanishi taichi x fem!reader | w.c 3.5k

a/n: SURPRISE it’s a sequel to mouth <3 my original skate rat sin i suppose, and also like my first real fic/drab for the fandom. god bless. as always thank u to @bakatenshii​ + @sugardaddykenma​ for putting up with me ranting about this fic (and also putting up with me since mouth)

big big thanku to #1 wife @pomsuki​ for reading this for me and yelling at me to finish this damn thing <3

18+ university age | pls read ALL warnings

warnings: drugs, public sex, dub/noncon exhibitionism, degredation, humiliation, dubcon, blood, slight injury (it’s a bloody nose), toxic behavior, misogynistic energy? vibes? you’ll know when u see it honestly

reading mouth isn’t necessary but it is appreciated! and pls check out melt + nightingale syndrome for they exist in the same skate rat universe (+ they’re delicious fics) also the people who wrote em r BIG SEXY

There were more than enough reasons to quit Kunimi Akira. He never texts back, he doesn’t go to class, he’s fucked a few of your friends and he couldn’t commit if you paid him. He was simply a waste of time, it was like every second spent with him was another mark ticked off a test, a percentile lowering on your next paper.

But chucking Kunimi would be like trying to sort grains of rice, difficult and damn near impossible. He always knew how to draw you back in and he enjoyed the mind games a lot more than his bored expression would let on. 

Despite the impossibility of quitting him you had to at least try, so you swore up and down that hooking up with him at Oikawa’s party some odd months ago was truly the last of it, that you were done with him and all of his irritating skate rat friends.

Which begs the question of how you ended up at the little concrete amphitheater on campus, sandwiched between Hanamaki and Matsukawa on one of the steps, a blunt being passed between the two of them without so much as a second glance towards you.

“Say, when’s the last time you and Kunimi had fun?” Makki’s grin is nothing short of lascivious, a slimy feeling weighs on your tongue as you shrug off a shudder.

“Say, was that ever any of your business?” You retort, snatching the blunt from his lips bringing it to your own and inhaling deeply, revelling at the warmth creeping down your throat and filling your chest. 

“Quit it Makki, she’s not gonna fuck you. Kunimi got her ‘round his little finger,” Mattsun coos, taking back the blunt, “besides, heard she’s a fuckin ice queen in the sack. Boooring.”

A sharp inhale keeps you grounded, the sound of Iwaizumi’s board slamming back down onto the pavement reminding you where you are, who you’re with. You’re not going to fall for Mattsun’s little games too.

“Tch.” Daggers prick at your lips, but you bite your tongue knowing that fueling the fire will earn you nothing but a headache. It’s not like you’re waiting for anything, or anyone, stealing a few more hits and leaving would be the best option.

“Oh? Nothing to say? But I heard your mouth was your only redeeming quality.” You focus your gaze on Iwaizumi telling Oikawa to stay out of his way, trying not to let your growing discomfort scare you away. The stubborn refusal of letting Mattsun’s words win only letting a dull ache grow at the base of your skull, prickling further when he and Makki let out low mocking laughs.

“Hey fucknuts!” Your head whips over to see a blur of crimson race by, followed gradually by a few other familiar faces you’ve seen around at parties and on campus.

“God, not these assholes.” Makki laughs as Oikawa makes faces at one of the newcomers. Your eyes drag across the unfolding scene as the number of rowdy idiots grows. You swallow hard, knowing that staying any longer would only cause your headache to further bloom.

“That’s my cue to leave.” You sigh, it’s not like you were waiting for Kunimi in the first place. You weren’t. You were just...killing time.

“Leaving?” Your head tips back to look up at the source of the question, Kawanishi Taichi, of course. 

“Yeah, dunno why I’m here in the first place.” You brush off his quirked brow and shove Mattsun hard with your shoulder as you stand up. With a curt nod, you smooth a hand over your jeans, turning on your heel to brush past Kawanishi, ignoring the low whistle that falls from his lips. You make it a good distance down the walkway before the sound of crunching footsteps behind you prickles at your ears as you ready yourself to tell whoever it is to get lost. 

“Want a ride?” You let out a huff as you look over your shoulder to see Kawanishi standing so nonchalantly, hands tucked into his pockets as he chews on a toothpick.

“Shouldn’t you be skating around with your little boyfriends?” The comment slips out, followed by your tongue sliding over your bottom lip as if it’ll soften the sharpness of your tone. 

“Nah, just droppin 'em off,” his eyes rake up and down your figure as you turn to face him, “where’s yours?”

“My what?”

“Your little boyfriend. You were waiting there like a lost puppy for him.” A protest rises in your chest, curbing it when you see a flash of something akin to flirtatious teasing in his normally passive eyes. 

“I... I don’t have one.” The words are slathered in honey, punctuated with a flutter of your lashes as Kawanishi takes another step forward. 

If Kunimi likes playing all those stupid games, why not play a few of your own?

“Is that so?” His head tilts slightly, you feign shyness, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you smile sweetly at him, confirming your statement with a nod of your head. “My car’s just over in the parking lot.” He tips his head in the direction of the closest lot, before turning to start walking. Without hesitation you easily fall into step beside him, trying to dampen your rising nerves.

Despite the dumb little hookups peppering your dating history, you had only gone so far with most of them, Kunimi being one of the few —and the only one you crawled back to— that you had made the unfortunate pleasure of going all the way with. You keep pushing away at the thoughts of inexperience as Kawanishi approaches an old, beat up, black Corolla, the paint flaking off with dings and dents littering across the body, the impeccably shiny rims on the wheels making you snort. 

It was a rather famous car across campus, seeing it around with stupid skate rats crammed in there with the windows fogged with smoke was an almost daily occurrence, especially highlighted by how it’s tied to one too many stories of girls having varying encounters with Kawanishi –and sometimes one of his friends– in said car.

“Wanna smoke or skip to the real fun?” He never minced any words, always up front or just completely skipping out on the conversation. It always made him the best project partner in the odd classes you’ve shared over your uni years.

“I don’t like waiting.” The fuzziness nipping at your spine from the few hits you took earlier were just enough, not wanting to dull your senses completely during this encounter. The bluntness of your answer causes a smirk to play at Kawanishi’s lips as he opens the door to the back.

“Well then, ladies first.” He gestures to the gray cloth seats, you make a point to ignore the questionable stains littered across it as you slide in, trying to focus instead on figuring out the heady scent permeating through the car. Cheap cologne, cigarettes, weed and maybe stale beer, and something that was distinctly him. 

Your eyes are drawn to a stain on the roof that looks oddly similar to an eagle, the thought unfinished as Kawanishi practically dives in after you. The sound of the door slamming preempting hands roaming over your body and lips moving against your neck. 

“Kawa-”

“Just Taichi.” He clips as he works the buttons of your jeans, a coarse hand working against your spine as he unhooks your bra.

“Eager much?” You laugh as he pushes at your shirt and bra exposing pert nipples to cool air, simultaneously managing to work your jeans past your hips and down your thighs.

“You said no waiting.” With a chaste kiss to your lips he’s maneuvering you onto your stomach, raising your hips in the air, face shoved halfway between the seat and door.  You let out a huff as your hand braces itself against the door, while the other on the seat below you, trying to find some semblance of comfort in the cramped setting.

“Mhm.” It’s the best reply you can manage as he grinds his clothed cock against the cleft of your ass, already hard. You can only imagine how many women he’s had in this situation to award all six feet and three inches of himself the ability to move so successfully around in the cramped backseat. 

Nimble and worn fingers circle around your hip, dipping down to tease at dampening lace, eliciting a soft moan from you. You push back against him, delighting in the soft grunt he lets out as he curls himself over you to scrape his teeth over your nape. His fingers continue to run up and down against your clothed cunt, pressing at the growing slick spot marking your wanting hole.

“Excited huh?” He mumbles as he skims his tongue against the shell of your ear, you manage a low hum in reply as he slides his hands back up, tugging down the flimsy piece of clothing, exposing your needy cunt to hungry eyes. He wastes no time pressing his fingers against your twitching hole, causing you to wiggle your hips just enough to earn a low chuckle and send the message of just how much you want him, need him. 

Without any further hesitation he slips in a finger, your back arching with the realization his fingers are longer than Kunimi’s, chest burning at the fact you could even think of another man in this situation. As if he can sense your wandering thoughts Taichi works in another finger, another following quickly after. There’s no urgency in his movements, each twist and thrust of his fingers methodical, curling in just the right way, making sure to brush his thumb over your throbbing clit to send a stinging pleasure up your spine. 

You can’t deny the way he’s taking you apart so sweetly, the tightening deep in your belly achingly sweet, as he starts to thrust his fingers even deeper, tiny gasps and whines starting to grow louder and louder as you careen towards bliss. With a particularly rough curl of his fingers you feel yourself come undone completely, punctuated by a shameless moan.

The sound of knuckles tapping against the fogged glass pulls you out of your blissful haze, still acutely aware of the way Taichi has his fingers lazily twisting inside of you. 

“It’s open.” He tugs you back by the hips slightly as he retracts his fingers painfully slow, listening as he unzips his jeans. Your heart races as the passenger door opens, shifting uncomfortably to try to catch a glimpse of who’s slid into the car.

“Oh, so that’s where you went, Mattsun said you were hanging around.” Your blood runs cold, your state of undress tightening your chest as you become painfully aware of the situation you’re in. The passive tone of Kunimi’s voice nips at your skin, tears away at the search of mindless fun that you had tried to pursue with Taichi, filling your chest with raw embarrassment.

“What do you want?” The tear of a wrapper following the question, whatever protest you had silenced by a hand coming down to grip harshly at your ass.

“You have my grinder.” Kunimi slips into the passenger seat, the sound of the glove box popping open making your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Yeah well close the door at least.” Your eyes widen at Taichi’s statement, you didn’t want Kunimi to just close the door, you wanted him to leave.

“Whatever. Can I smoke in here?” It doesn’t sound like much of a question, more of a declaration with the ‘can’ and the question mark tacked on for decoration.

“I don’t care, do you?” You crane your head just enough to catch the blasé expression on Taichi’s face, a quirked brow directed more at your ass than you.

“Yeah sweetheart, care if I’m in here while you’re whoring yourself out?” Kunimi scoffs, the irritated tinge to his bored tone making you furrow your brows.

“Oh fuck you.” You start to rise on your elbows, only for Taichi’s hand to land between your shoulder blades, keeping you from moving any further. You let out a huff as Kunimi clicks his tongue in feigned disappointment.

“Sorry babe, it’s me who’s fucking you this time around, maybe Kunimi can get the next round.” Before you can even bother with a retort, Taichi drags the head of his cock against slick folds, teasing at your entrance. You let your head hang down, the click of a lighter grating on your nerves more than you would like to admit. 

“Please, fuck me, I want it so bad.” The whininess of your voice annoys even you, but if Kunimi wants to stick around and get on your nerves, then two could play that game. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” Just like before he slides in slowly, carefully, as if to make you memorize what each inch of him feels like splitting you apart so sweetly.

“Shit.” You exhale shakily as you try to adjust to him, it had been months since you last fucked anyone, since you last fucked the asshole sitting passenger.

He sets a leisurely pace, steady and infuriating. There’s a hand clamped down on your hip, fingers digging in painfully to keep you in place, to establish that he’s the one calling all the shots. You huff, still trying to buck your hips to meet his thrusts. There’s something in his actions that makes you feel greedy, desperate for so much more than he’s offering.

There’s no way around it, you’re completely at his mercy, left taking the shallow, slow thrusts that only makes the desperate ache deep in your cunt grow.

“Hook a finger or two in her mouth.” There’s a pause in Taichi’s motions, letting you finally take a deep breath of the thick weed laced air. “Don’t look at me funny, do it and see what happens.”

You hear a non-committal hum as those devilishly nimble fingers skim past your jaw, a whimper preceding his index pushing past your lips with a harsh tug at the corner of your mouth, the painful stretch of your cheek causing you to clench down on his length.

“Oh? You were right.”

“She’s already broken in,” Kunimi takes a long drag of the joint hanging in his fingers, “no point in holding back.” 

It’s as if a flip is switched in Taichi, the statement becoming an immediate challenge as he hooks in another finger beside the other, yanking harshly as the snap of his hips becomes almost painful. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the car, swirling with the heady smoke defiling the air. 

“W-Wait Taichi.” The words are garbled around his fingers, and you’re quickly dismissed as he snakes around his other hand to hook his middle and index on the other corner of your mouth, the stretch in your lips burning as he shifts from the quick paced thrusts to deep, hard strokes.

His only reply is to tug harshly on your mouth as pathetic whines and distored words spill from you. 

You can feel yourself start to shake almost violently, still reeling from your earlier orgasm and suffering at the hands of Taichi’s now vicious pace. Each thrust pushing you into madness, each tug of his fingers bringing you back. 

“Fuck, fuck.” He curls over you again, sloppily running his tongue up your nape. “You wanna cum?” 

“Mhmm,” you yelp at a particularly rough slam of his hips, “please.”

He grunts, moving a hand to grip at the back of your head while keeping his other hand planted on your hip, fingers biting into your hip. There’s no warning as he grinds into you, the hold on your hip finally relenting as he slides his digits back down to pinch at your throbbing clit, the bit of pressure sending you careening over the edge.

“T-Taichi.” Pleasure wracks through your body, your legs tremble violently as you try to move your hand on the door, shoulder aching from holding yourself in place. The second your hand moves, you give into the force of Taichi’s hand on the back of your head, forcing you to slam face first into the door, the impact making your nose sting, blood immediately starting to gush, running down your face and chin. 

You’re not sure if he doesn’t notice or doesn’t care as he continues his assault, the once careful, methodical thrusts turning desperate and depraved as he moves with reckless abandon. His teeth drag across your shoulder, before pulling out completely.

“Don’t need this.” You grip at your nose, trying to ignore the disgusting feeling of blood seeping onto your fingers, looking over your shoulder again to see Taichi pull off the condom. You can’t even protest with the way you’re bleeding profusely, pinching at your bridge at a poor attempt of stopping the bleeding.

“Stay still.” In one swift movement he’s plunging back into you, bottoming out immediately, a muffled yell falls from your lips, arching your back as he drives into you with just a few more hard thrusts you feel his seed spill inside you. 

For a moment you two stay suspended, the head of his cock nudging against your cervix, making you groan in a twisted sense of pleasure of pain. He pulls out painfully slow, delivering another harsh slap your ass as he sits back.

“Oh, sorry ‘bout your nose.” He helps you flip onto your back, swiping his thumb over the blood trickling onto your lip before shucking off his t-shirt and handing it to you. “Don’t have any tissues.” 

“So who’d you like playing fuck toy for better?” For a split second, somewhere between the back breaking orgasm and your nose being slammed into the door, you had blissfully forgotten that Kunimi was still in the car, but now that perfect illusion just had to be shattered.

“Must you be such a dick all the time?” You manage to pull your jeans back up, hissing at the stinging pain in your hips and lower back, ignoring the lewd feeling of Taichi’s cum starting to leak from your abused cunt. 

Beside you Taichi manages to tuck himself back into his pants, reaching under the driver's seat to yank out a hoodie reeking of weed and cigarettes.

“Maybe you two should just get together already.” Taichi lets out a low chuckle as he pulls on the hoodie, getting out of the backseat, slamming the door hard before throwing the driver’s door open. You don’t even bother trying to hook your bra back on as you pull your shirt down, letting yourself slump back down and lay across the backseat as you reach up to check if your nose is still bleeding.

“Like hell.” Kunimi twists around in the passenger seat, looking down at you with an amused smirk, offering the freshly rolled joint to you. “You look like shit. I said she was broken in, not to break her more.” He only gets a wry laugh from Taichi as he starts the car.

“Thanks, right back at you.” You sit up just enough, looking at Kunimi expectantly. He shakes his head before twisting the joint in his fingers and placing it between your lips, producing the lighter. Just as he’s about to hand it to you he brings his hand back a bit, grabbing your jaw with his other as he lights the joint. He picks up Taichi’s bloodied shirt, pouring water from a twisted plastic bottle onto it before passing it back to you.

“Cute, blew her back out and you’re doting on her.” You watch as Kunimi moves to sit back in his seat, not even bothering to spare you a second glance as he shrugs. You dab away at the drying blood on your face, ignoring a few of the splotches that landed on the joint.

“Guess I play favorites, drop us off at my place.” 

“Us?” You exhale after a long drag, narrowing your eyes at the back of Kunimi’s head as Taichi pulls out of the parking spot.

“What do I even get out of doing that?” You can’t help but nod in agreement of Taichi’s statement, feeling yourself growing annoyed at the way they seem to ignore your entire presence.

“You can fuck her again.” Kunimi offers and you almost drop the joint as your jaw falls open at the absolute nerve of the man. 

“Excuse me? I’m right here?” The way that neither of them even flinch at your statement, let alone acknowledge it makes you slump back into the seat, begrudgingly accepting the fact whatever you say isn’t worth shit to either of them.

“Hm.” It doesn’t sound like he’s actually considering the offer, but the quick look over his shoulder as he turns out of the parking lot sends a chill down your spine and your stomach to twist.

“Believe it or not, her mouth’s her one redeeming quality.” The two of them snicker, like two old pals sharing an inside joke.

“Shut the fuck up.” You’re brushed off once again as they toss back a few more comments before Taichi stops at a red light, looking over at Kunimi, then back at you and finally back towards the road.

“Yeah alright.”

[consumeconstantly]

A Discowing at the Wayne Gala

Summary: Getting Jason to go to the Wayne Gala each year was more difficult than putting the Joker away in Arkham; he insisted the part was full of pretentious, rich social climbers who were horribly boring. As it turned out, all he really needed to persuade him was an upset, drunk girl rambling about how much she was going to deck her highschool enemies there to convince himself that he’d be in for a great show. (AKA the extremely chaotic and nonsensical salt/crack fic)

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“I, Mar--” she hiccupped, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng solemnly swear to rip Lila a new one with Discowing’s godawful costume.”

“You say it girl!” called some random person from across the bar. 

“I will--” another hiccup “--use Batman’s Batmobile to run over Kim. And slam Red Hood’s ugly ass helmet onto Adrien’s stupid face.”

“Better yet,” Marinette pounded the table, “I will use their stupid utility belts to dismantle Gabriel’s empire. Somebody give me a yeah!”

“Yeah!”

All in all, the sight wasn’t that atypical for a bar in Gotham, if it weren’t for the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was barely five feet, wore pigtails, and knocked five men on their asses when they tried to approach her. 

“Take that, Hawkass,” she hissed. “Think you can pull a fast one on me when I’m drunk, do you? Well I’ve got news for you!”

Her words slurred together, and she leaned on the bar for support. “When I get my way, you’re going to be tied up into a pretzel and dumped into a volcano, then the tundra and then we’ll see how you like your stupid little jewlery touched.”

“Dupain-Cheng,” her blonde companion hissed. “Get yourself together. We don’t need another one of your breakdowns now. You know we’re going to be busy tomorrow night, and I don’t want to deal with you completely hung over all throughout the gala.”

“Aww,” Marinette squished her cheek onto Chloe’s “You know you love me.”

“Yes, yes, but I’m not going to tolerate this bullshit. If you want to make good on your plans, you need to be in tip top shape.”

“Ughhhh, why are they even invited to the stupid gala? It’s not even like they’re rich! Oh wait, I guess they are…” Marinette pressed her face to the bar, which was undoubtedly dirty. She reveled in it’s coolness, brushing her bangs out of her face. “And why do you have to be right? I guess I have to stop drinking if I want to make any of my plans work.”

“Your plans will work, hungover or not. It’s just a question of how much you’ll be able to enjoy them. I don’t want you complaining for months after the fact that you don’t remember half of what happened.”

“I guess you’re right. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and I'm feeling a little too warm to ice them out.��� Staggering, Marinette got to her feet. “Call an Uber?”

“It’s already here.”

#

“What made you change your mind?” Tim frowned at Jason, doubtful that he wasn’t going to cop out at the last second. He was sure that he was only putting on his suit as some sort of deliberate ploy to get out of the Gala. Truthfully, it wasn’t required that all of them attend the Gala, but it was one of the few events that brought together most of the Wayne family.

Jason ran a hand through his hair and smirked. “Let’s just say I’m expecting quite the show.”

#

Jason kept a hawkish gaze on the entrance, waiting for the appearance of one short, pigtailed girl, and a taller blonde. They arrived almost forty five minutes into the Gala, which was good timing; not late enough to be considered rude, but most people have already arrived and have made their rounds.

Marinette looked different out of the dim lighting of the bar, and even though she definitely looks like she’s nursing a light hangover, she still managed to look stunning. With a matte-black floor length dress that attracted all light in the vicinity towards it, it’s hard not to look her way; Tim, for one, stared at the outfits that Marinette and her companion are wearing with stars in his eyes. Any moment now, he’s going to approach them. Or he would if he weren’t on Jason-sitting duty.

“I’ll play nice,” Jason promised.

“You? Nice?” Tim sounded incredulous, and it’s not like he can fault him. Whenever Jason did successfully get roped into coming to the Gala, it’s a sure thing that he gets at least one fist fight started, if not an everyone for themselves sort of situation. 

“They’re the reason I decided to come. It’s not me you have to be worried about.”

Tim groaned. “Really? They’re trouble makers? But they’re wearing MDC!”

Jason chuckled, slipping a hand into his pants pocket. Tim was weirdly obsessed with the highly secretive French designer. Nobody ever saw them in person. “Wearing your fashion icon doesn’t mean they can’t kick ass.”

Tim rocked back on his heels, looking at the two girls calculatively. “That’s right. If anything, they’re more likely to kick ass, because that’s the kind of confidence that MDC inspires in their designs. Well, if you’re not going to fight them, I’m going to introduce myself.”

“And I can’t leave my little brother alone.” Jason said, watching the blonde girl point in the direction of, if he wasn’t mistaken, Gabriel Agreste’s son and his plus one.

Who knew that doing a preliminary reading of the guests would be so informative? He could only guess what kind of beef Marinette had with Agreste Jr.--Bruce had enough problems with Gabriel; even though Wayne Enterprises only dabbled in fashion, Gabriel was a ruthless man when it came to his competitors, and tried to edge them out of the market multiple times. Foolish on his part, not taking into consideration that both Bruce and Tim were very, very stubborn people who only get more difficult to face when dealing with a challenge.

Wayne Enterprise might primarily be considered with R&D and technology companies, but underestimating the amount of influence Tim could gather when someone pissed him off was just a bad idea.

“Hi, I’m Tim--”

“--and it’s lovely to meet you, but we’re on a mission right now,” finished the blonde girl, who Jason was now 98% sure is Chloe Bourgeois, daughter of Paris’ mayor and Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois. “Dupain-Cheng, it’s your time to shine.”

“God,” Marinette muttered underneath her breath, ducking her head. “I can’t believe you’re holding me to what I said while drunk last night.”

“It’s not just what you said drunk last night, it’s the most effective way of dealing with that liar. She’ll be so embarrassed she’ll hide away forever. Maybe get some plastic surgery and change her name. Daddy will make sure she can never step foot in Paris again.” 

“Chloe,” Marinette groaned. “We all know how that panned out last time. Do you want a repeat performance?”

“By that time Hawkmoth will already be taken down. No need to worry about evil butterflies.”

“Evil butterflies?” Tim frowned. 

“We can fill you in later, Marinette has a car to steal.”

“Chloe!” 

“Oh stuff it, Dupain-Cheng, you’re no goody two shoes, even though you pretend to be one.”

Marinette whispers into Chloe’s ear, eyeing Jason and Tim. “Do you have to discuss that with other people around?”

“Well,” Chloe crossed her arms. “You boys aren’t going to rat us out, are you? They’re part of the infamous Wayne family. They’ll definitely be in.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You know they already reached out-- I can’t risk--” Marinette kept cutting herself off. “Fine, but if you-know-what falls through, I’m putting it all on you.”

“Like they’re going to pass you up just because of what’s going to go down at this gala. If anything, they’ll be glad to know that you’re as vicious as you are creative,” Chloe checked her nails and touched her hair, making sure it was in place.

“Sorry, what? I’m a little bit lost.”

“Keep up, Drake. I’m beginning to doubt your title as child-genius.You have the unique opportunity to watch history in the making.”

#

“Wait,” Tim’s jaw almost dropped at the display in front of him. “How did you even--”

“Trade secret. Marinette doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“But that’s the Batmobile.”

“Yeah, and?”

Jason laughed. He stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile, Marinette stole the whole thing. What a sight.

#

Here’s how the rest of the night went: Chloe plied Marinette with copious amounts of water, trying to get rid of her headache. Marinette hopped into the driver’s seat of the Batmobile (to which Chloe cackled, “And she doesn’t even have a driver’s license yet,” and Tim paled to the shade of freshly fired ceramic plate.) They ran over Kim, who, somehow managed to get into the event as a server of sorts, at which point Tim swore that the background checks would have to be upped again. Marinette landed the Batmobile in the middle of the gala, barely managing to avoid several innocents who were in her path. She reached into the convenient storage compartment that Jason was previously unaware of and pulled out the Discowing outfit and his helmet-- seriously, how did she get those?-- and slammed the car door.

Security, of course, was waiting for them. How couldn’t they, with that big of a disturbance? Half of the guests were up in a tizzy-- mostly the ones who were experiencing their first Wayne Gala-- and the other half were looking on, amused. Tim waved the guards off as Marinette made her way to Lila and Adrien, like a vengeful Valkyrie.

“You,” Marinette grimaced. “Chloe, say the words, I forgot them.”

“We decided that words were useless, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Marinette said, before promptly slamming Red Hood’s helmet onto Adrien’s head hard enough for him to fall to the ground, likely concussed. Lila, who started screeching and running away made for a surprisingly difficult target. Well, difficult in the fact that she was using other people as shields, but once she came across a group of Experienced Wayne Gala Goers, she got pushed out of her comfort zone.

In eight inch heels and with her hair down, Marinette stalked towards her prey. 

“Lila Rossi,” Marinette intoned. “Your sins will be judged.”

“What are you going to do, Marinette? You have no power here. We’re in America now. No Ladybug to back you up. No public opinion in your favor.”

Marinette shuddered. “Ugh, your voice makes me want to vomit. In any case, I sentence you to life in Discowing’s costume.”

“You can’t make me wear anything!”

Famous last words, Lila.

#

“I’m still so confused. What just happened?”

“Don’t worry,” Chloe gave Tim a pat on the back. “You’ll get used to this kind of thing if you end up hanging around Marinette more often.”

“I think I’m in love,” said Jason.

“Get in the back of the line. The only thing Marinette has time for now are her plans to take down Hawkmoth.”

“I’m not opposed to joining you. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” Jason paused. “By the way, has she already stolen the utility belts to take down Gabriel or does she need more? I’ve got contacts.”

 "Fair warning, everything in Paris is at least twenty times crazier than what you’ve seen here today.” Chloe swiped through a few notifications on her phone. “And please, do you think someone who hotwired the Batmobile needs your help getting her hands on a couple utility belts? If she really put her mind to it, she could get the Lasso of Truth from Wonder Woman.”

“Yeah, Jason, I’m definitely not going to join you on that trip.” Tim turned his attention towards Marinette, who was currently passed out on the hotel couch. “Anyways, You two are wearing MDC, right? I have a meeting with them tomorrow!”

Chloe looked at the poor boy with pity. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

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i’m really churning out these jasonette prompts like butter (god butter is so freaking good you ever eat butter straight? i do. heart attack city & the next paula dean) even tho i only thought about joining in right when july was ending but here we are 

[imherongraystairstrash]

I know you write about relationships in TLH and TID that are rarely/seldom touched on in the books or extras, but I wanted to know if you would consider a Christopher and Thomas Lightwood fic. Maybe the first time they are both in the lab and Thomas experiences the first of the many explosions which Kit unintentionally created. You could follow it up with another scene: Thomas pointing out to Christopher what had led up to the explosion (a misidentified component or measurement).

Of course! I absolutely adore the Lightwood cousins! I put a tiny bit of all of them in this fic, but it's mostly focused of Thomas and Kit :)

Thomas and Kit:

Thomas’ sisters have been giggling for what felt like days. Not only giggling, but they kept pestering him, asking about what men fancied the most in women.

Oh, Tommy, do men like shorter hair or longer hair?

Do men prefer a woman who speaks softly or says what’s on her mind?

Thomas would always say the same thing: I don’t know.

Because, really, he didn’t. He’d never thought of women in that way, though the angel knew he’d tried. He simply couldn’t. His mind told him to like one thing, but his heart said otherwise. It was frustrating. And very confusing.

“Why can’t you just be yourselves?” Thomas said. “Who cares what the men think?”

They giggled again, which made Thomas furrow his eyebrows.

“Don’t you understand, Tom? You have to lure them in by attracting their attention, and then, once you have them wrapped around your finger—”

“Then, you can show your true colors.” Barbara finished.

“That’s a terrible idea.” Thomas said. “You’re just wasting your time.”

They both shook their heads in perfect synchronization.

“He’s too young.” Eugenia said.

“And innocent.” Barbara replied.

Thomas rolled his eyes as they giggled again, and began discussing possible bachelors.

Thomas could only tolerate two minutes before he felt suffocated and stood up, frustrated.

“Wait, we still need you.” Eugenia said.

“Where are you going, Tommy?” Barbara asked.

“Out.” He snapped, taking his coat from the hanger and tugging it on. He let the door close behind him, ignoring his urge to slam it, and quickly made his way down the steps of his house.

The cold air bit into his skin and made its way to his neck and down his back. He silently cursed his sisters for making him leave in such a rush that he forgot to take his scarf.

Thomas walked down the streets of London, letting movement cool his head.

He was tired of the world. Angry at it. The way his sisters embraced it and tried their very best to be a part of it. The way it would force him to live his life differently, with someone he could never truly love.

He wished it would disappear, leave him alone, and yet it was always there, floating over his head like a shadow.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and briskly crossed the street.

Most days, Thomas missed Idris; walking barefoot through the forest and simply being outside in the clean, rich air. In Idris, if he wanted to be alone, he could. He could lay on the grass and fill his lungs with it’s wonderful scent, or climb a tree and hum melodies of his own creation. Of course, he liked the fact that in London, he could be with his friends, but there are some things even friends can’t quite help with. His friends could calm his mind the way the soft breeze that ruffled his hair or singing of birds could.

Thomas didn’t realize where he was going until he was standing in front of his Aunt and Uncle’s house.

He knocked on the door, and when nobody answered, he shrugged and opened it.

He made his way through the house, poking his head in certain rooms, trying to find one of the residents. It was usually quiet today. He looked into the parlor and found Cecily with her back to him. She was swaying back and forth, her hair falling from it’s bun.

“Hello, Aunt Cecy.” Thomas said.

Cecily turned, and smiled when she saw him. Her eyes had bags under them, as she and Uncle Gabriel were very tired these days, the reason for which was soundly snoozing in Cecily’s arms. Thomas’ new baby cousin, Alexander (whom Kit had informed Thomas was very loud) apparently has lungs of steel. Cecily had said she looked like a raccoon these days, but Thomas thought she still looked as pretty as always. “Oh, hello Thomas. Have you come to see Christopher?” She asked, rearranging Alex’s blanket.

Thomas nodded, “is he here?”

“In his room. He’s been awfully quiet today.” She said, simply. Then she furrowed her eyebrows, as if realizing what she’d just said.

“Do make sure he's not partaking in something foolish while you’re there, Thomas, would you?”

“Yes, Aunt.” Thomas said, making his way up the stairs.

He hadn’t wanted to come any closer to his baby cousin, for fear that he’d wake him, and Aunt Cecy would have to put him to sleep again.

Thomas waved at Uncle Gabriel as he passed him in the study, as he walked down the hall. Gabriel waved back half-heartedly, as if the life had been sucked out of him.

When Thomas opened the door to Christopher’s room, he found him bent over the table in his room.

“You’re going to hurt your back if you stand like that.” Thomas said as a way of greeting.

His cousin looked up immediately.

“Shut the door,” he hissed.

Surprised and confused, Thomas did so, and Kit straightened.

“What ho! How wonderful that you are here, Tom. I was working on something fascinating.”

“Is it related to science in any way, because last time you tried something like it, you blew up one of Henry’s walls.”

“That was because I made a simple mistake.” Kit said, with a wave of his hand. “This time it’s different.”

Thomas wasn’t very convinced. He noted Kit’s askew cravat, his tousled hair, his glasses that sat crooked on his nose and his wide-eyed gaze and concluded that his cousin has officially lost his head.

“Why did you look like I’d committed the largest sin on the planet when I left the door open?” Thomas said, deciding to change the subject.

Kit scowled. “Alexander.”

Thomas blinked. “You’ll have to be a little bit more specific than that.”

“Any small amount of noise and Alexander will cry for hours.” Christopher said, scrawling something on a paper. “At least this way I don’t have to hear the racket so much.”

“Oh,” Thomas said.

“I don’t know why Mum and Dad even wanted another baby. They’re demonic creatures.”

“I thought you liked Alex.”

“When he didn’t cry so much.” Kit said, rather darkly.

Thomas had never seen his cousin so…gothic? Not only was he strangely gothic, but he has also thrown himself into science experiments, which didn’t settle well with Thomas. It was as if he were a mad scientist and Thomas, who’d read Frankenstein, didn’t think those two words were ever a good combination.

He cast an uneasy glance at Kit, who was biting his bottom lip as he combined two solutions.

“Kit, what are you even trying to accomplish?”

“Oh, erm, actually, I don’t know. I’m just observing what will happen if you combine— Oh, that’s not good,” Kit said.

“What’s not good?” Thomas asked, just as a large explosion answered the question for him.

“What the Hell was that?!” They heard Gabriel’s frantic voice call from the hall, just as Alexander began wailing and Cecily let out a noise that started out as frustration, then became something halfway between confusion and worry. Christopher, covered in soot, simply stared, dumbfounded, at the place where the vial had once been.

“Erm…” Thomas said, unsure of how to answer the question his uncle asked.

Not that it mattered, as Gabriel burst into the room a few seconds later. Much like his son, he blinked and just stared at the explosion site for the moment it took Cecily to come inside with a red faced Alexander in her arms. The latter was rubbing at his puffy eyes with his small fists, clearly not happy to have been woken up from his nap in such a way.

“Christopher Gideon Gabriel Lightwood, what in the name of Raziel have you done?” Cecily said, not hysterically, like most parents might ask, but more so weary, as though she wasn’t entirely surprised by the fact that there was an explosion in her residence on a Sunday morning.

Kit shrugged, still staring at the explosion site.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Thomas said, “but are these chemicals toxic? Shouldn’t we be evacuating?”

And for the first time in Thomas’ life, he saw his Uncle Gabriel and Aunt Cecily exchange a wide-eyed expression before Cecily ordered them all out of the room and briskly led them down the hallway.

She knocked on Anna’s door as they passed it. “Cariad, make haste, we’re evacuating the house.”

“Why?” Anna asked in a bored and strangely breathless voice, as if she were dancing.

“Your brother caused an explosion. Did you really not hear it?” Gabriel said.

“Oh, that’s what that was?”

“Yes, now come outside before you start glowing in the dark from the toxic fumes.” Cecily said firmly.

Anna groaned. “Alright. Let me get dre— I mean, I’ll be right down.”

Cecily sighed and continued down the hall.

…

Thomas waited outside with the Lightwoods, Anna climbing out of her window a short while later, not bothering to straighten her simple dress as she landed. If either Gabriel and Cecily were by any means surprised by Anna’s exit, neither remarked upon it. Nor did they mind that Anna was barefoot or that her wavy hair was unbound, waving in the wind like an ebony banner.

Gabriel and Cecily were simple folk, in that sense. They didn’t waste time trying to make their children conform to society, they just let them roam free.

Well, except for now, as they were scolding Kit, Cecily forbade him from any sort of experimentation within their house. They may differ from parents in many ways, but they were still parents, regardless.

Anna slumped down beside Thomas, watching the house.

“Another day, another dollar in the Lightwood residence.” Anna said mournfully.

Thomas just stared blankly ahead.

“One of these days, Tom, I’m going to get my own flat.”

Thomas nodded.

“And you can have my room here.” Anna said.

Thomas snorted. “Your room is pink. Very pink.”

Anna pressed her lips together. “Believe me, I’m aware.”

When Kit was done being scolded, he came over to them. Anna patted the grass next to where she was sitting and Kit plopped down beside her.

“How angry are they?” Anna asked.

Kit just frowned.

“At least they’re not disappointed.” Anna said, ruffling his hair.

Kit just pressed his lips together, identical to the way his sister had done shortly before. Anna and Kit looked very alike, despite their coloring. They always denied it, of course, just as Thomas always denies it when others say that he looks like his sisters.

“Well, you two are a dull bunch.” Anna said, getting up. “If neither of you are going to talk, I might as well leave.”

They watched her go to her father, most likely making a joke as she walked and despite everything that happened, Gabriel chuckled.

Kit scooted closer to Thomas, who put a hand on his cousin’s back.

“Maybe next time, you should study the chemicals better.” Thomas said, “see how they react to other chemicals. I don’t think spontaneity is something scientists encourage.”

Kit looked up.

“And maybe don’t do it in your room?” Thomas said.

Christopher nodded.

Thomas looked straight ahead, and they sat in a comfortable silence.

“Do you really hate Alex?” Thomas asked after a while.

“Not really.” Kit said. “He is just vexing sometimes.”

Thomas huffed a laugh. “I feel the same about Genia and Babs sometimes, if that makes you feel better.”

“I still like Alex, though.”

Thomas hummed. “Yes, I still love my sisters too.”

Thomas leaned back on his hands and closed his eyes. He may not be in Idris, but at least he still had his family. He may be different and the rest of the world might shun him, but at least his parents would still love him.

At least he was alive, and though sometimes it wasn’t always perfect, life was still good.

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[lady-o-ren]

The Dig 

Part Two (Because I was bullied into this . . .)

//Which can be read (HERE) for easier reading// And Part One (HERE)

In a little rented room above auld Geordie’s pub, Claire Beauchamp stood in nothing but her silk undergarments as she flipped open her weathered suitcase (once belonging to her dear uncle Lamb) she had heaved atop her bed. She rummaged through the contents, blowing at her curls clouding around her face, before pulling out a single dress of pale blue.

It wasn't something she usually packed whenever she went off on a dig but the dress had caught her eye in a department store window in London just before coming to Suffolk. She reasoned one never knew when the occasion might call for her to dress in something other than dirt stained trousers.

And never had she been more relieved by an impulse buy.

Or thankful for a rainy day that halted her excavation.

It was a chance to be with the Scot who thought her more precious than the iron rivets they discovered a few days ago, proof that the burial site they were knee deep in was a ship to honor a fallen king. She would've kissed him on the spot if it weren't for Foster and Pound.

The kiss however did come later.

After her and the lads celebrated with too many pints, she and Fraser went back to Sutton Hoo, slightly swaying with every step beneath the twilight, until their arms found their way around one another. Soon they were laying side by side in the grass and dirt, the air cool on their whiskey flushed cheeks, and she wrapped in his coat. Big and warm and enveloping like himself.

"We may very well be unearthing a legend here ," said Beauchamp, leaning back on her elbows, eyes closed facing the moon.

Fraser grinned.

" Beowulf ?"

She laughed and turned her gaze to him. "Arthur, King of the Britons !"

He laughed along with her, a deep and hearty sound, then joking all aside said  -

"Anglo Saxon, ye think?"

She nodded and rolled to her side, nearly pressing herself against Fraser's chest, heaving from a sharp intake of breath.

"I told you before that something grand and marvelous was buried here . . ."

"Ye did."

Then shyly Fraser said -

"Bha mi a ’bruadar mun bhròn mhòr. . . Remember that bit from my notebook?"

Her eyes softened and her features took on a pretty shade of pink remembering a great deal more of what that book contained.

How each page held a piece of his heart.

And laid a hand over his chest, against that fervent beat.

"Of course I do," she answered back, but frowned a little when Fraser bashfully kept his gaze to the small gap between them where a dandelion bloomed.

"Weel, I wrote it that night after we first met, from a dream I had. Sounds a great deal better in the gaelic though. . ."

Beauchamp raised her hand to cup his cheek, thumbing the fine cut bones beneath his skin, before pressing her soft warm mouth against his lips.

"Tell me," she insisted, when they managed to part and nudged her nose against his.

And so he did, voice low and more than a little breathless.

I dreamt about the mourning.

The deaths of great men. Terrible men. Old and young. Of Kings lost in battle buried beneath us.

They cried out to me and the Earth came to life and twisted her roots around me, dragging me inside her womb. Dark and cold, breathless like a cave.

But I wasn't frightened. I saw lights rushing around me, bright as the twilight sky. The souls that lie ahead. Surrounding us.

They brought me to you.

He shrugged sheepishly then.

Just before she kissed him again. Knowing she'd never want anyone more than she did right then and there amongst the swaying trees and spirits of auld.

This man whose soul spoke to her own.

Too bad a crack of lightning had to ruin the night.

But at least the rain blessed them with a day to themselves in apology.

Taking one last glance in the vanity mirror (that was about as big as her compact) and another quick check that her nails were clean of dirt, Beauchamp left her room and walked down the hallway to Fraser's, knocking softly against his door. When no one answered she pressed her ear curiously to the door hearing voices and knocked again, just a bit more louder, tapping the toe of her slingback  heels against the beaten wooden floor. With still no response (and patience never being a virtue she ever possessed) she flat out turned the knob finding it unlocked.

She poked her head in and found a room even smaller than her own and the source of the voices coming from a small red radio playing an adaption of a film from the windowsill.

- I might have known you were here. I had a feeling just as I hit the floor.

- That was your hat.

- Oh, Susan! Just look at it! Look!

Fraser himself was fast asleep and spread out atop the bed sheets dressed for a date to the cinema with his long arms crossed above his head and his big feet dangling off the edge of his too small bed.

Beauchamp stood watching him for a moment, filled with a sudden tenderness at his sleeping innocence . . . and a bone deep wickedness that gave her an idea. She closed the door quietly behind herself and flipped the lock, grinning as she did so. She then slipped out of her slingback heels and crossed the room in two short strides (the floorboards creaking with the pitch of a mouse beneath her), to carefully lay down beside him.

Fraser turned to her in sleep, a throaty murmur on his lips, and laid a heavy arm around her slim waist, gathering her heart to heart. She sighed happily and reached to caress a curl hanging low at his brow, admiring the color that reminded her of the scorching sunsets in Giza she basked in with her uncle so many years ago. Her fingers then threaded through his thick mane down to where they began to curl at his neck and was rewarded with an unexpected smile. Pure and sweet.

"You're too perfect for words, lad," she whispered against his wide mouth, but before she could seal their lips together his long blonde lashes fluttered open.

Fraser gazed at her sleepily, his smile only growing wider as the word Sorcha was adoringly breathed against her cheeks.

She wanted to ask him what that one meant. It might be her favorite bit of gaelic so far.

But then . . .

"Claire!" Fraser exclaimed, and nearly toppled them both out of the bed if not for Beauchamp clinging to his shoulders, steadying him above her.

"How di' ye - Why are ye -"

Beauchamp giggled loudly at his befuddled face and at his hair sticking up in all directions like a sunflower crown. She coasted her hands up the wide breadth of his shoulders to cup both his scarlet cheeks.

"You're door was unlocked, and you know how cold I easily get . . ." she playfully pouted, and tugged his face closer, enjoying how his skin felt like a glowing hot coal between her hands.

But Fraser pulled away.

"Claire. . ."

She sighed yet kept her amused grin.

"You're not a lad of sixteen, you know. You can have a girl in your room."

"I ken that," he answered back, with a defensive spike in his voice.

Beauchamp ignored his tone letting her hands wander to his chest, the muscles taut beneath his crisp white shirt straining to contain his racing heartbeat.

"We even spent a night under the stars together."

"That was altogether different."

Her eyes flashed with mischief as she toyed with the buttons of his shirt. "How so?"

"For one," Fraser breathed hoarsely, placing a hand over hers lest she get too carried away. "It wasn't all night, the thunder made sure of that, and we mostly were talking anyway."

"Mostly?"

"And two," he said firmly, ears pink. "There wasn't a bed either of us could fall out of."

"No, there wasn't," she agreed, deciding he'd had enough of her teasing (and only because she had never taken anyone seriously enough to go slow). "But you can still keep me warm, Fraser. Virtue intact. I promise."

He arched a ruddy brow, doubtful of the lass with cheeky hands and a red cheshire grin that could lure a man to break every sin. Yet he eased himself beside her anyway and in the only way that worked.

With their legs twined together, nearly flushed against one another.

And his big hand braced along her back, the fabric soft against his callused palm as he smoothed it up and down, feeling the gentle rise of her ribs as she breathed in absolute contentment.

“Better than sitting in the cinema don't you think?” said Beauchamp, as she nuzzled her face to the crook of his neck, warmed by his skin that smelled freshly clean. Yet she found herself missing the scent of a hard day's labor on him.

“Aye, much - wait!” Fraser shifted to his elbow. “We missed the film didn't we?"

Beauchamp, a little annoyed at being jostled, shook her head and tugged at his collar to settle her lad back down.

"No, there's still some time left. Cary Grant just lost his intercostal clavicle bone to a dog named George. . . Or was it a leopard named Baby?"

Fraser stared at her like she'd gone completely daft until he noticed the radio playing in the background and heard the inimitable voices of Grant alongside Katherine Hepburn.

- Now it isn't that I don't like you, Susan, because, after all, in moments of quiet, I'm strangely drawn toward you, but - well, there haven't been any quiet moments.

"Oh,” he chuckled lightly, dropping his head to the side. “I must've fallen asleep listening to Lux Theatre . What I meant was the actual cinema though.”

“I think Judy Garland is merrily singing down that yellow brick road as we speak. But don't be sorry," she said, with a kiss to the hard line of his jaw, before the words could fall from his mouth. "It would've been far too crowded anyway."

“But you got yourself all dressed up," he protested, as his eyes traveled down to where her dress had been rucked up tight over her breasts and waist (and where his hand involuntarily flexed over the winged flare of her hip) before hastily clearing his throat.

"Ye look lovely by the way, mo chridhe. More than lovely actually. . ."

That shy and tender smile of his was her undoing and made her feel light-headed and reckless.

"Either that clever mouth of yours keeps on with the compliments, Fraser, or . . ."

Her voice carried off as her knee glided up between his thighs and her arms clasped around his shoulders so that any thoughts Fraser had of being a gentleman were forgotten in a wanton blaze of heat.

Some time later, with Fraser's cheek pillowed against her breasts, breath hot and seeping through the thin blue fabric thoroughly wrinkled now, he groaned.

"I wish we weren't in a room above a pub that reeks of cigarettes and wee."

She hummed softly, her fingertips stroking the back of his head, twirling around his curls. Admiring their beauty.

"Where should we be then?"

Fraser lifted his gaze to hers, blue eyes glimmering with that undeniable emotion that should've scared her yet it only made her want to claim him forever.

"A woman like you. . ." He smiled. " In a tent somewhere outside the ruins of a temple or in a cave in the Himalayas."

Her chest bounced with sparkling laughter.

"How about when this is all over and our names are the talk of the town, you take me anywhere you please. Preferably with a bed we can both fit in."

It was a tantalizing thought yet Fraser couldn't help but think of Scotland. Of his home Lallybroch. With her hand in his passing through the centuries old stone archway as his lady of Broch Turach.

Someday, maybe. God willing.

"I can think of a place," he murmured, and tightened his hold around her lush frame and pressed a daring kiss of hope above her heart. Felt her shiver beneath his mouth.

- I've just discovered that was the best day I've ever had in my whole life!

- But I was there!

- That's what made it so good!

And together they drifted off listening to the rain and the silly, sappy music.

I can't give you anything but love, baby.

That's the only thing I've plenty of, baby.

Dream awhile, scheme awhile

We're sure to find happiness . . .

//

A/N: There’s a lot of notes so I’ll keep them to ao3. And there’s probably mistakes galore but I needed to post this before cringe settled in and I deleted it, Thank you for reading!

[tales-unique]

FAITH, LOST  IV

Oh honey she starts off so spicy! Hence why it's all under a Read More since I don't wanna get done for showing the nasty straight out the gate. Minors better beware! ;3

Tagging the boos, for obvs reasons @chelseareferenced @buckysbaby1 hope you all like it! 😘😘

Chapter 4

It begins as soon as your eyes flutter open. The darkness, familiar, like an old friend, coerces your senses into a heightened state. Exposed, your skin prickles at the coolness of the room, writhing against soft sheets. You exhale in exhilaration; you know what’s to come. It starts small, a low thrum of electricity in the air that tickles your bare flesh. Then it builds, tantalizingly slow, a measured surge of power that has you twisting yourself in knots. You want more. Only He can give you more. His arrival is heralded by the scent of oil and whiskey, leather and smoke. It caresses you, embraces you, and sends you into overdrive. It’s instinctual, a primal desire. It corrupts your mind, the sequence disjointing in its take over. Thick boots echo on a wooden floor, your mouth falling open with a heated breath. Your back arches when you feel his weight dip the bed, heat radiating from him. The contrast has you trembling, body wired. His hands, strong and calloused, grip the backs of your thighs easily. A simple tug and you’re at his mercy, legs parting easily in his strong grip. You moan, he growls. He likes what he can see, those beast eyes glowing a dangerous red in the blackness. Sharp indents form against delicate skin, his claws marking your inner thighs. His little lamb, so sweet and so ready for the slaughter. Then there’s movement, the shuffle of fabric, the chink of a belt buckle. You tense, but you’re ready. The air surges with the oncoming crescendo, the room spinning, or maybe it’s you? You’re not sure, preoccupied with the molten heat that pools suddenly between your legs. You feel his grin, all teeth and tongue helping to blot out the sharp stab of pain.      Forgive me Father, for I have sinned—

The sudden chaos of a burst steam pipe in the hallway outside your room abruptly shocks you from your slumber, a cacophony of sounds assaulting your sleep-hazed senses. You hear Heisenberg shouting, the scraping of metal being reshaped at will, the harsh hissing of escaping steam. Groaning at the rude awakening you flop back against the lumpy couch cushions, kicking off your blanket in protest. A light sheen of sweat covers your body, making your nightclothes stick to you in an uncomfortable way. As you stare up at the ceiling you try to decode the meaning behind your dream. You recall with an embarrassing amount of clarity just what it was you were doing and who you were enjoying it with. Humiliation blooms within you, coloring your cheeks a shade of scarlet. It wasn’t as though you hadn’t indulged in the past, you just never had desires so blatant before. Especially for someone who was your superior in every way. “Hey, you awake in there?” Heisenberg’s voice cuts your thoughts short. All the racket has stopped, there’s just the usual hum of the Factory. “Y-yes!” You squeak, stomach clenching uncharacteristically as you sit up, “I’m awake!” “Well get your ass up, we have work to do!” He claps his hands hard to exaggerate his point and you lament your new found torture as his footfalls recede down the corridor. Oh merciful Mother Miranda how were you supposed to face him anymore?

Heisenberg is, for lack of a better word, pissed. It surges through him and it shows in the haphazard, volatile approach he takes with his work. It isn’t rational, this level of response on his part, but he can’t help it. You’ve barely spoken a full sentence to him all day. Now, he’s under no illusions that you were going to become the best of friends. After all, you had been sent to him by Mother Bitch herself to be his servant and he knew that you were three sheets to the wind over this religious bullshit, but he’d thought that you’d been showing progress in becoming your own person. At least, you were , until that little incident where he had you pinned against his desk and decided to take his teasing to the next level. It isn’t often that Heisenberg considers that he may have gone too far with something, or someone , but he’s definitely considering the possibility now that you seem to be avoiding him wherever possible. You’d even brushed off his blatant last ditch attempt, an offer to accompany him to see his forge and the projects he’d been working on, in favour of praying to Mother Miranda. It’s the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen. You’d been so close to opening up, to no longer being a tool, but instead you’re become even more the meek little lamb of Miranda’s flock. Frustration bubbles within and his temper, short-fused as it already is, takes a critical hit. As a result everything he does has a sharp, volatile edge to it; even something as simple as opening a door is menacing in his current state. It serves to further deter you from him, giving you the space you so desperately desired. That is, until Heisenberg reaches his limit. “Just open up already! You can’t ignore me forever!” He thunders where he stands in the hallway, gritting his teeth in a vicious snarl. When he’s met with your persistent silence he howls in frustration, throwing his arms up in the air. The irony of him choosing to remain outside your door doesn’t go amiss, since it’s well known that he could easily rip the door from its hinges with the flick of his hand because of his nifty little ability to manipulate metal. Which, coincidentally, nearly everything in this Factory is made of in some form or another. But he doesn’t and you’re thankful for that, even if you still don’t want to face him. It continues on relentlessly, neither side backing down, and without realizing it, the whole thing becomes a game in its own right. One that pits you against one another to see who cracks first. So it’s a surprise when it’s Heisenberg that seeks you out first. It’s a situation of his own making, having followed you on the gritty live feed from his security cameras. With ease he catches you off guard on your way out of the elevator, taking your fright in his stride. “Easy now!” He exclaims, his hands raised in surrender. You’re cagey, looking for a way out. He isn’t going to give you one because he’s had about enough of you giving him the cold shoulder over a goddamn joke . You’ve pressed yourself tight against the wall, watching him like a hawk. He can hear the frantic flutter of your heart, the sharp intakes of breath, and his jaw tightens. He can’t get distracted now, he needs to focus — this was not the time to enjoy your distress. “Now I know that I can be a bit of a handful,” he starts, then falters, mouth working to try and word it just right, “but, really, hasn’t this gone on long enough? I didn’t mean any harm by it! Just a little teasing, you weren’t meant to get upset.” Oh, he thinks this is because of that time. You stare up at him in utter disbelief. You want to slap him. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt the innate burning desire to inflict bodily harm on anyone, but here you stand, about ready to knock those glasses right off his face. “You have literally no idea how you make me feel , do you?” You accuse him, incredulous, your posture straightening. Things might have slipped back to the way they were before all of this if he had just let you be, allowed you to warm back up to him, and maybe you might have been content with that. This was a turmoil of his own creation, after all, so why not let him stew in it a while. But now? Now you were at your limit. You’re tired of constantly tip-toeing around yourself because of him and his stupid games. If anything, you’re even more tentative to rekindle whatever this relationship is that you have with him, to throw in the towel and tell Mother Miranda she’d been wrong about you. It made you sour to think that what little progress you had made had been lost and it’s taken its toll on you. There’s a harsh look to you that has Heisenberg’s head spinning, apprehension gripping him. “H-Hold on a minute,” he attempts to defend himself, an uncomfortable blend of emotions sitting like a stone in his stomach. He’s conflicted over your new found confidence. You’re no longer the mild-mannered devotee that was wound around Mother Miranda’s finger, standing tall. You’re practically shining. It’s a good look on you, but he’s not exactly thrilled to be the one on the receiving end. “No!” You snap, squaring up to him. You see his brilliant eyes widen behind his circular glasses and for once in your life you feel powerful and in control . “I’ve done nothing but try my best here, trying to make something good out of this situation and you made me feel like a complete idiot !” The words feel heavy on your tongue, but you feel lighter now that they’re out in the open. Who knew that having your shame out in the open could feel so liberating. You take a deep breath when you feel the pinpricks of tears sting your eyes, trying to ground yourself. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him. Not in this lifetime, or the next. Heisenberg stares down at you with a look of realization on his face, now fully aware that there was more to this than your feelings of inadequacy, that you were little more than a joke to him. It’s always been there, in the way your heart races when he gets just that little bit too close or how your eyes soften when he’s agonizing over his work. He goes to speak this revelation but you shake your head, lower lip trembling. “I was just trying to help .” The way your voice breaks has him in a tailspin, the look of pure anguish in your eyes cutting him deep. This is in no way what he had envisioned when he spotted the chance to clear the air with you. “Oh come on, don’t cry!” It’s a desperate plea, something you never thought you would hear from him. “You’re making me feel really shitty here!” “That’s because you are!” You sob, unable to hold it back anymore. You feel like such a pathetic idiot. That overwhelming monster of self-degradation looms, fueling your misery. If only a dark abyss could just swallow you up and save you from this embarrassment, but you know that’s not going to happen. There’s only this awkward moment, lingering between you. You whimper, trying desperately to wipe away your tears. They stream down your cheeks, burning against your already flushed skin as you sniffle. Suddenly his hands are encasing your own in a firm grip. With a surprisingly gentle touch he tugs them down, exposing you. The whites of your eyes are marred with tiny lines of red and your long lashes clump together from your tears. You’re a mess, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, he finds you oddly endearing in the moment. Swallowing, you try to understand what’s going on. Your hands are still held in his, the feel of soft leather almost comforting against your skin, and you wonder if you’re dreaming again. Something stirs in you, glowing embers kicking up from ashes, and you try to pull away. It’s an admirable attempt but Heisenberg easily catches you, holding you in a vice-like grip against him. You whine at the harshness of his grasp and he frowns, loosening his hold just enough to make it bearable. “I’m sorry, alright?” He mumbles, hesitating. It’s been so long, too long, since he’s been in such close proximity to someone who wasn’t prey. You aren’t fighting him, you aren’t trying your damnedest to get away. In fact, you look as though you’re captivated by him. It’s a side of him that no one has ever seen before, the dejection of a man twisted into being a monster. Something inside you breaks anew at how lost he looks, the last and most dangerous of the Lords at Mother Miranda’s disposal. He’s nothing more than a dog on a choke chain, to be used when it’s suited and then discarded afterwards. Just like you. “Heisenberg,” your voice is hushed, woeful. The words are so genuine and your heart isn’t yet made of stone to be immune to their plight. When you shift in his grasp there’s no resistance and you reach up to gently cup his cheeks in your hands. The stubble on his face tickles your palms and his skin is warm and smooth to the touch. You find you quite like it, the contrast of textures. He does little in the way to stop you. In fact, he encourages you. His hands find purchase on your hips, thumbs brushing the delicate spots just below your rib cage. It elicits a soft gasp from you, your body stiffening beneath him. Glistening eyes stare up at him, a swirling maelstrom threatening to drown him along with you. He’s curious whether or not you’re ready to commit to this. Heisenberg knows what you want, or better yet, what your body wants, but your mind eludes him. He waits with bated breath to see what path you will take, the uncomfortable feeling of anxiety creeping in his bones. It’s like poison, a crawling taint that threatens to take over him. What have you done to him? The exact same thing he did to you. It’s a disquieting notion, one that almost overtakes him, until it doesn’t. The doubts are suddenly banished and relief washes over him at the feel of your silken lips against his in a tender kiss. The chain breaks; you're both suddenly free, and it feels euphoric .

[obeymehasinfluncedmythoughts]

Brothers as New Parents

Featuring Poly!Mc.

Guess who decided to finally finish this oneeeeee. I used my parents for inspiration for some of these. Sadly my getting knocked out by a carpet story didn't qualify 😔

Lucifer

Despite the name and the whole demon thing, Lucifer is actually a pretty decent father.

In the beginning though, he's really lost.

Like, the only baby he's ever raised is Satan and technically that doesn't count, so he's kinda confused here. Which really freaks him out.

Things get easier once the kid can finally walk, but don't expect Lucifer to really understand babies too much, or to like them either. They're way too noisy and dirty for him to actually enjoy. 

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t a good dad.

Sure, he's not amazing, no parent naturally is, but he isn't reckless with your child and genuinely makes attempts to keep them alive. 

He just, kinda waits till the kid isn’t spitting up daily or wearing diapers to actually like their company

Before that it just feels like another job. Or like he’s watching his brothers. 

He loves his child but, uh, he’s going to be the type of dad to forget which baby is his if we’re being honest. 

Mammon

He's really good a keeping babies entertained. Like, really good.

(Who would have known babies also like shiny things that jingle?)

Also loves to spend money on them. Like, legit any baby left under his supervision will be dressed in absurdly priced outfits. It's a little frustrating to wash these clothes, especially considering how dirty kids can get.

But besides all the spoiling and the playing, Mammon is clueless.

Like what do babies do?? What do they need? Are they supposed to sleep for that long??

He regrets not reading the baby books Satan recommended.

He's extremely clumsy as a dad, but in like that way where only he gets hurt but your child never does.

(Despite being so young, you're pretty sure the kid laughs every time he face plants.)

Likes to watch TV with the baby. The kid's probably seen every action movie known to man (and demon) by this point.

Leviathan

Levi isn't good with pregnancy, but he is pretty decent with kids.

Something about his personality really draws them to him

(Which is a great examination as to why most children must have to be taught how to share. Leviathan is a bad influence)

He kinda only ever takes over the "fun" parts of being a dad. Not because he doesn't try though. He does, really, but he often finds himself at a loss when it comes to dealing with spit-up or diapers or the little quirks babies develop.

Levi's the third oldest. He didn't have to deal with that stuff. None of them really had to, as raising angels is kinda a community effort. Seeing as Lucifer wasn't exactly the maternal type, he'd spent his years with his brother watching over kids. Never being beside them.

I think he's especially freaked out if he has a daughter. Like, he doesn't know what to so for the most part with any child, but girls are even more foreign to him, seeing as he's only ever had brothers. Well, besides Lilith, but she's a different story.

It's not really bad, he's just new to everything, but you'll probably give Lucifer an earful for not at least giving more responsibilities with Satan.

Most definitely gives his kid toy weapons and costumes to play with. They can't even walk yet but he's got a chest with princess dresses and lightsabers ready to go.

Satan

Satan is pretty much the most normal dad you could ever ask for.

Yeah, a normal demon, spell-casting dad, but norm nevertheless.

He's always the one to offer to take over your shifts in the night (He will not sub for his brothers though. They can fuck right off).

Buys you your first mother's/father's/whatever you choose to call your parental title's day gift because everyone else most likely forgets amongst the stress of baby.

Most DEFINITELY tries to do that whole "all natural" baby thing, but probably realizes a few days in that breastmilk is not only hard to obtain in the Devildom, but most demons don't really give a samn about cruelty free items (Mass produced cotton included).

^Asmo and him did this together btw. But Asmodeus did it for clout whilst Satan did it for the baby's health.

He'll dress his kid up like him. The clothes are still ugly as sin.

Asmodeus

Your kid will be internet famous before they turn five months old.

Asmo does not understand the word "privacy" or the concept of "not plastering his child's life for everyone to see"

But, you must admit, he does dress your baby up in the most adorable ways.

She might just be the only person he puts above the two of you, both as individuals, and as a couple.

(^I don't think all the brother's would think this way. Some probably still internalize their angel backgrounds or have even formed their own opinions onto where a kid places in a relationship. I might get into it more if asked but I'm leaving this here for now)

He does everything with the kid, when he has them, and if the child is biologically his (which will be extremely apparent), that kid will be with him all the damn time.

He wants his baby to be beautiful like his parents, but most of all, he wants his baby to be happy.

Will most likely turn into the exact definition of "the cool mom" from mean girls but that's far off from now.

Until then, he'll just stroll around the mall, showing his baby all the sparkly things they'll eventually love.

Beelzebub

Beel would have been a pretty normal dad if not for his more older-brother mentality.

Like, the guy has never really been around kids. He's been around Belphegor. Which isn't a huge age gap but there's still that looming protective older-sibling trait there.

He kinda sees the kid, no matter who or where it comes from, as just another sibling.

After what happened with Lilith though, he's more prone to be more protective over girls. He doesn't even recognize he's doing it tbh.

(There's actually a lot of open wounds regarding Lilith that show up in his parenting skills, but they develop a lot later)

He always has to know where your kid is at, but he doesn't necessarily need to be with them.

Like, he's afraid of something horrible happening, but he trusts his brothers, and you, to be able to handle it. He just needs the constant reassurance.

Very insistent on keeping a feeding schedule through, and is known to freak out when they refuse to eat, or get an upset stomach, or something along the lines of the digestive process goes wrong.

Beel is probably the best at bath time. Man can make some awesome rubber duck voices, and the plotlines he thinks up are very interesting.

Belphegor

The one the most scared to have a baby is the one who loves to spend the most time with the baby.

Why? Because babies sleep most of the fucking day. This is a great bonding experience.

And for some reason, you suspect it's due to his powers, the kid will sleep through anything when the two of them are together.

The minute they sleep in their room, or in a cot next to your bed, they'll be waking up hourly for some reason or another.

And it's like, you can't have the baby sleep with Belphegor all the time because if the kid genuinely needs some attention, he needs to wake up and make it known.

But damn are you tired.

Like you some how think raising a child with seven partners is harder than one, because no one should feel this exhausted when they are allowed to take at least three naps a day.

Outside that conundrum, he's a very quiet dad. He'll just sit by the baby and play with them, usually via rattle, enjoying the cute little noises they make and the faces that grace their features.

He'll miss this when the baby starts crawling.

[stardusttrashed]

Lovestruck (Finale)

Part 4

Pairing: Professor Erwin x Fem! Reader, Connie x Sasha

Word Count: 2K

A/N: A huge thanks to everyone who stuck around for this series and showed it some love. also, if you haven't already go check out the playlist I made that gives professor Erwin vibes :)

“Sorry I’m late, Mr. Smith,” you squeaked as you squeezed past the door into the old familiar room. “Hope you didn’t haveta wait too long,” you smiled apologetically.

Erwin turned around, looking up from the whiteboard he was writing away on. He smiled handsomely, quietly sighing in relief, “actually, you’re right on time as usual.” He closed the distance between you before placing a kiss on your forehead. “How much’d you spend? I’ll pay you back,” he reassured you as he led you towards his desk.

“You can pay me back by coming to movie night,” you purred, quickly throwing the idea out there as you took a seat on his desk. You rummaged through the plastic bag, taking out two to-go boxes as Erwin rolled his desk chair over. “You’ve been officially invited by Thing One and Thing Two. And they’ll probably lose their shit if I show up without you.”

“Sasha and Connie, right?” he confirmed. You hummed in response. Erwin tensed up momentarily once he saw you sitting on his desk, sinful thoughts running rampant in his mind. He was curious how much of a good girl you’d be for him. Or if you’d let him eat something else for lunch. It didn’t make it any better that you still had his shirt on. A blush painted his cheeks as he pushed the thoughts down, plopping in his seat and scooting closer until he was sitting between your legs, “I’d love to, darling.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, occasionally broken by strings of giggles as you stuffed your faces with the Chinese food you brought. You took turns feeding spoonfuls of each other's food to the other, goofy, uncontrollable, lovestruck smiles printed on your faces. There was so much you both wanted to say to each other, wanting to ask about the other’s day, or ask trivial things, or address what you were. But neither could muster the courage to break the moment. So instead, you spoke through lingering touches and longing gazes.

“Erwin,” a familiar voice said dryly, followed by the footsteps of them entering the room. “Found your sandwich in the fridge in the staff room.” Erwin’s eyes went wide, more surprised about being caught than the actual sandwich. “Figured I’d bring it before you starve.”

You sent Erwin a playfully threatening glare, “you had food?! I- you little,” you quickly hissed, stopping short as Erwin apologetically squeezed your thigh.

Erwin chuckled embarrassedly, removing the hand on your thigh to scratch the back of his neck. “I must’ve forgot.” He looked back and forth between you and Levi, both of you looking back at him with unconvinced expressions. He was busted for sure.

“Right,” Levi drawled out as his eyes scanned the desk, taking in the to-go boxes and how close you and Erwin were sitting. “At least you’re not starving. And glad to see the two of you finally grew a pair and made things official.”

“W-well,” you stuttered, to no avail. Levi was already walking out of the room, muttering something about how you should at least lock the door. Gradually, your shock shifted into overconfidence. “Missed me that much, huh? Pretty lame excuse if you ask me.”

“Shouldn’t be much of a surprise, darling,” Erwin cooed, his blue eyes practically filled with hearts. It felt like butterflies were coursing throughout his entire body as you leaned down to kiss him. It was short and sweet, just a lingering peck, yet you left him breathless. “Y/n, I- um.” He could feel the tips of his ears growing uncomfortably warm. Your soft giggles weren’t helping either. “Hold on.”

You watched as Erwin struggled to hold onto his cool. It was still weird, no matter how many times you saw him grow flustered. He was the gorgeous giant of a man that left men and women alike flustered, yourself included. Yet, you always seemed to be the one to turn the tables without doing anything but being yourself. He wasn’t some Greek God, okay, well looks-wise, yes. And personality-wise. Okay, maybe he was a Greek god, but that didn’t stop him from being a friendly giant or a big cinnamon roll around you.

“I, uh,” he quickly glanced up at you before returning his focus to the journal he pulled out of his desk drawer. “I got you this,” he held the small journal out to you.

You gingerly took it from him. A thin gold rope chain tucked away in the journal as a bookmark tapped your hand as it swayed from the movement. You prayed he couldn’t see the way your cheeks grew warm as you opened the journal to the page the chain rested against. In the center of the lined paper lay a key strung on the chain. The key wasn’t anything fancy, just a plain house key that covered a neatly written note. You glanced up at Erwin momentarily before moving aside the key to read the note aloud. “I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self-respect. And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be. I love her, and it is the beginning of everything. F. Scott Fitzgerald,” you read, your throat growing tighter with every word.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing anything,” Erwin quickly spoke up once you finished reading. “I just, well, I figured you could use my place as a place to write and get some inspiration. I don’t want to pressure you, though. This can be completely platonic, and we can ignore-.”

You set the journal aside and stopped his nervous rambling with a kiss. Your lips moved lazily against each other, savoring everything from the moment to the taste of one another. Time seemed to slow as you lost yourself in the softness of his lips and the warmth of his hands on your hips. You could feel him surrendering to you, giving you everything he could until he was left with nothing, not even a breath… until you reluctantly pulled away. You rested your forehead on his, your eyebrows knitted together as you tried to catch your breath enough to say something.

“And for a moment, I thought I loved him,” you breathed, altering the quote slightly to fit the situation more. Your breath fanned across his lips, giving him visible chills as you continued, “but I am slow-thinking and full of interior rules that act as brakes on my desires.”

“Committing Great Gatsby quotes to memory, are we,” Erwin teased, his voice husky as he finally managed to catch his breath.

“Only the most beautiful ones that’ll impress my professors, er, used to be professors.”

“Consider the job done then.” Erwin looked at you like you were the only one, not just now, but forever. His ocean eyes shone like he was looking at the sun, and in a way, he was. You always were a star that he couldn’t help but gravitate to. He lost you for a while, but just like the planets orbiting around the sun, he managed to find his way back to your warmth.

You reached out and pushed a stray hair back into place, “not polite to stare, baby. Even if ya look cute doing it.”

“Dance with me,” Erwin blurted. He needed to hold you, to bask in your warmth. He wanted to do what he should’ve last night, holding you close as you swayed to music that could better articulate the feelings he has for you.

“What?”

Erwin chuckled and shrugged, “dance with me, and I’ll stop.” He stood up with a devilish grin on his face. “Just one dance?”

“Erwin, I don’ think this is the place-” you were cut off by Erwin scooping you up into his strong arms bridal style. You held onto him despite feeling utterly safe as he maneuvered his way out of the classroom. “Baby, where are you taking me?” you squealed with childlike giddy.

“To a place we can dance,” Erwin looked down at you with a wicked smile as he walked out of the building with you still cradled close to his chest. The soft drizzle of rain welcomed the both of you, which made you squeal and hurriedly attempt to cover your head.

“Erwin Smith, take me back inside before I kick your ass!”

“No, can do; you said we couldn’t dance in the classroom.” He sent a kind smile to the people passing by. “Besides, as sweet and sugary as you are, you won’t melt.”

“You don’t know that.” You smacked your hand against his chest, “I hate you right now.” The soft drizzle was gradually becoming a steady stream of droplets that made any efforts to protect your hair futile. With a huff, you gave up, allowing the rain to return your hair to its natural state gradually. “Happy now?”

Erwin kissed the tip of your nose before gently setting you back on your feet underneath a large canopy tree. The twinkle of mischief in his eyes was a stark contrast to the soft apologies that tumbled from his mouth. “I promise, messing up your hair was not part of the plan.” His eyes flitted up to your curling hair, a proud smile forming on his face, “I was right, though. You look absolutely amazing, darling.”

You rolled your eyes, hoping it’d distract from the bashful smile tugging on your lips. “One dance,” you held up a finger for emphasis. “That’s it.”

“Just the one,” he gently pressed his lips against yours. “Unless you beg for more.” His laugh rumbled in his chest like quiet thunder as you playfully swatted his arm.

“Well, Mr. DJ, what’re gonna dance to?”

“No idea,” Erwin admitted with a bashful smile, looking up from his phone. “Just wanted an excuse to hold you close.” The soft, familiar strumming of a guitar filled the air before he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

With an outstretched hand, he looked at you with such genuine adoration that for a second, you forgot how to breathe. You slipped your hand into his, allowing him to guide your hands towards his shoulders. It felt silly, dancing in the middle of campus in the rain, and at the same time, it felt so surreal, like you two were straight out of a book.

“Only fools rush in,” Erwin quietly sang as he slid his hands around your hips. “But I can’t help fallin’ in love with you.” He had a smooth, calming singing voice like he was born to be a crooner. He didn’t sing around others often, not sober at least, but something about you made him feel like it was the right thing to do at this moment. Every word that fell from his lips was for you, and you only as you both sway in time with the music. He was yours, and the look in your eyes told him you were his.

You pressed yourself closer to him, the rest of the world slipping away. He was too warm, made you feel too secure for it to be reality. And yet, here he was, the man you secretly fell for years ago was in your arms singing Can’t Help Falling in Love to you. The increasing heaviness of the rain or people staring didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except him.

“I-,” you jumped at the sound of your ringtone, sending you plummeting back to reality with wide eyes. “S-sorry, I gotta,” you trailed off sheepishly as you pulled your phone out of your pocket before accepting the facetime call.

Erwin paused the music for you, trying to stay as quiet as possible as he played with your newly formed curls. It was hard for him to fight back the awestruck look on his face as your hair seemed to grow curlier by the second.

“Did you do it? Please tell me you did? I’ll do it for you,” Sasha bombarded you once you answered. She paused with wide eyes at the sound of Erwin’s amused chuckle. “Oh, my- is that him? Hi, Erwinie!”

“Wait, she did it?” You could hear Connie yell from somewhere offscreen. “Ha! You owe me twenty!”

You smiled apologetically at Erwin, who seemed quite amused with the situation. “Hi, Sasha,” Erwin cut in, laughing at the way she swooned after he said her name. “If we’re being technical, I was the one who did it.”

“Ha! I only owe you ten,” she exclaimed, sending Connie a face before focusing back on you and Erwin. “She invited you to movie night, right?”

“About that, why don’t you two come over to my place? I’ll even cook.”

“Careful before I steal him from you,” Sasha laughed. She was practically drooling already at the thought of free food.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but there’s only one girl for me.” He looked down at you with a confident smile, “she’s all I want and need.”

“What about guys?”

“Ew, you two are so cute it’s gross,” Sasha talked over Connie. “Get off my phone before ya make me sick.”

“Gladly,” you mused, giggles bubbling in your chest. “See y’all later.” You hung up before they could say anything else and turned your focus to Erwin. “I feel the same way, just so you know. Think you’re it for me.”

“I sure hope so cause I don’t plan on losing you again.”