#also known as The First Wave of Cats Was Already Upon Us

[mortimer]

Mars Black, We managed to trace the origins of life way back to the very beginnings of the internet, 2022. Acrylic on canvas, 6″ x 8″.

[papermatisse]

inquiring minds || B.BH

♔ pairing: professor!byun baekhyun x f!professor!reader

♔ genre: fluff

♔ word count: 2.7k

♔ warnings: none

♔ synopsis: the students of sm university have their attention on the popular history professor and his secretive lifestyle. student beomgyu finds a person who may hold the answers on everyone's minds.

♔ (a/n): happy birthday, @biaswreckingfics! can't believe this is my second year writing you a bday fanfic! im so happy to call you my friend! I tried making this a drabble to show my growth to you, but failed miserably. I hope you enjoy it nevertheless!

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Byun Baekhyun was an enigma.

A history professor with an impressive academic history to coincide with his doctorate. Young, handsome, intelligent. Though also a gifted professor, delving into each and every subject of his with such unadulterated enthusiasm of his own that his students couldn't help but feel just as invested themselves.

He was hyper, dashing across his lecture hall, hands raised in the air, so entirely devoted to his craft. His teachings were practically performances as he embodied the era he spoke of. He was a professor many would yearn to have, someone who was incapable of ever losing the attention of his students. He held to the firm belief of not taking life seriously, lest you not make it out alive, and he stood there as a triumphant example of what splendor life could offer if you merely enjoyed it.

All of these characteristics that had made him so utterly popular, yet the student body knew little to nothing about the man. Because although he was the human personification of a puppy with his bright eyed wonderment and neverending infectious joy, he was extremely reclusive. Everything about his life was kept to himself, to the point that there were more speculated rumors about the man than actual truths.

So far what was known of Baekhyun was his age, his degree, his dissertation, and his eternal battle with his cat. The man was an undeniable dog person, and often accepted late work from students if they even so much as sent him a blurry photo of a dog, let alone bring the actual dog into class for him to dote upon whilst he taught. He'd come into the lecture hall at times, a scratch or two on his arm from where his cat had bitten him, though the ongoing battle between his feline and himself was a series that many found themselves subscribing to with gusto.

There was no discernible moment in time that the tides seemed to shift, but the populous had unanimously and without debate began pestering the man for more information about his life.

It had begun as simple questions, merely asking what he'd eaten that day, what his cat looked like, even where he got his sweater from at some point. At times, he'd give a wry answer, barely even acknowledging whoever asked such a minuscule question in the first place. Occasionally he'd stay quiet, or perhaps even reflect the question back to the student in his usual comedic manner.

Though the questions soon escalated.

Do you have a social media?

"Do you not see enough of me at school already?"

Are you allergic to any foods?

"I don't trust anyone with that type of knowledge."

What's your mother's maiden name?

"Isn't that a security question?"

One day, one of those personal questions had garnered an intriguing response from the man.

"Are you dating anyone?"

A subtle smirk crossed his face for the briefest of moments, followed with an amused puff of air expelled from his nose as he remained where he sat, typing at his computer while his class wrapped up for the day. This insighted much enthusiasm from the masses, everyone gasping and talking over one another ecstatically at the newfound information.

"Mr. Byun, you never told us you were dating someone!"

"Who are they?"

"How long have you been together?"

"Enough, enough," Baekhyun waved off the curious undergrads, rolling his eyes with a smile. "I'm not dating anyone. Now go to your next class, I'm in office hours mode from this point on."

"Does that mean we can stay and ask more questions?"

"History related."

Although they had all vacated the classroom, the events hadn't left the minds of some students, one specifically being Choi Beomgyu, an English major who was on his way to his TA class. Professor Byun was someone he had grown to highly respect, with his kind and funny nature, willing to help his students no matter the assignment. Although the class was a requirement for him, Beomgyu found himself enjoying it far too much, to the extent that he was even deliberating minoring in history alone.

Though he knew Baekhyun was a rarity of a professor, and walking into his English class served as a reminder of that fact as he looked towards his English professor.

Professor (l/n) was the personification of the stereotypical English professor, or at least the ones commonly depicted in media. Oversized knitted cardigans with loose stitchings, hair tied back and away from her face in a messy and carefree manner, a tired scowl resting on her face as her eyes roved over endless stacks of papers, darkness lingering beneath her gaze as a consequence to her exhaustion.

Beomgyu sat beside her desk, waiting patiently for her to glance over at him, though by the looks of it, she was far too preoccupied with grading to even acknowledge his presence. Though he was used to this by now, often greeted by her well after he'd arrive. It also granted him some more time to stew over Professor Byun before he'd have to delve into grading.

Although it was expected, he hadn't really expected Baekhyun to actually be dating someone. It had him considering who could possibly handle someone like him. Was the man as energetic at home as he was in the classroom? Was it someone interested in history as well? Could it even be a professor at the university? Perhaps someone even in the humanities department like him?

"Professor (l/n)?" He spoke breaking the silence and causing her to shoot her head up in surprise, sighing upon just seeing her TA.

"Good morning, Beomgyu, how are you holding up today?"

"It's… Well into the afternoon." He laughed as she reached for her phone, humming in understanding at his words as she verified the time of day. "My day has been okay. I just had Professor Byun's class, so I'm kind of tired."

"Makes sense." She responded, this intrinsic understanding tone laced in her voice as she returned to her grading pile, marking things as she read through them. "You can take a few more minutes to yourself."

"Do you know Professor Byun?" Beomgyu asked absentmindedly, not expecting much else other than a mere shrug or an uncommitted confirmation, though instead she nodded to him, not turning away from her work for even a moment. "Well, I mean, do you like… know him, know him. More than just a work colleague."

Another nod.

This stunned Beomgyu, not really expecting someone as cloistered as Professor (l/n) to have acquainted herself with someone as sociable and outgoing as Professor Byun. Though at the same time, it wasn't so far-fetched. The two are just a few doors away from each other, both housed under the humanities department. Perhaps she just tolerated him, because Professor (l/n) was not someone who accepted tomfoolery in class, rather strict when it came down to someone disturbing her class with laughter or audio from their phones. It didn't seem like they'd be necessarily close when taking their countenances into consideration.

"I'm assuming if I ask you questions about his life, you wouldn't really say much?"

"Not without his explicit permission, no." She confirmed with a huff, backing away to take another sip of her (likely cold) coffee.

"Do you need me to get you a refill from the backroom?"

Glancing down at her cup and then to her TA, she shook her head.

"It's fine. I'll get some in a few minutes." Beomgyu reached for one of the essay piles, pen in hand ready to grade alongside her, unaware of the curious gaze now directed towards him. "What's with the sudden intrigue in Professor Byun?"

"Not really sudden." Beomgyu chuckled, fiddling with his writing implement while recounting his time in the general history course. "My class has been pretty annoying lately with him, trying to get him to spill as much information about his personal life as we can, but he's really reserved. Surprisingly." This earned Beomgyu a snicker from his professor, encouraging him to continue. "Today, we almost got him to spill about a potential relationship of his. We asked if he was dating someone and he didn't outright deny it immediately like the other questions." Beomgyu reconsidered Baekhyun's reaction—definitely intriguing and definitely suspicious. It warranted Beomgyu's otherwise peculiar intrigue in the matter, he had insisted. The natural desire of people to sate their curios no matter what. "He denied it eventually though. Said he wasn't dating anyone."

"He's not." Professor (l/n) responded, causing Beomgyu to look at her with wide eyes. She went back to her papers though, seemingly no longer interested in the conversation, but ever the determined student, he persisted.

"You know a lot about his personal life?"

"As much as he's willing to tell."

How could Beomgyu concentrate on grading when the answers to everyone's questions reside in the stoic English professor before him? Such an unexpected source of information, yet also so obvious. Someone who keeps to herself, therefore someone who won't blab about Baekhyun to others. Someone close to him, physically so in the case of their similar departments. Quiet and somber, a guaranteed good listener. Attentive and keen, given her English background and analyzing capabilities. The more Beomgyu thought about it, the more fitting it all seemed.

"Since I can't ask about Professor Byun, could I ask about you?"

She glanced over at him, eyebrow raised momentarily, though shrugging nevertheless, casting her gaze back down to her papers.

Much like history class, he started with simple surface level questions, ice breakers to warm her up to his interrogation.

"When did you graduate?"

"Few years ago."

"What did you last eat?"

"A blueberry muffin."

"What do you do in your free time?"

"Read."

And again, much like Professor Byun's class, his questions gradually escalated.

"When was the last time you lied?"

"I don't remember."

"Was that a lie?"

"Probably not."

"Have you lied any time throughout our talk?"

"Not really."

Though it was one question that struck a chord in Beomgyu, causing him to narrow his eyes at his professor upon her answer.

"Are you a dog person or cat person?"

"Cat person." She answered immediately, shaking her head at the mere prospect of the former option. "Dogs are very active and loving, and it's just something I'm not necessarily comfortable with. So I have a cat back at home."

"What's this cat like?"

"Hmm… She loves me… That's the most I can say about that." She laughed to herself, and unbeknownst to her, her student sat there putting pieces together. Pieces he hadn't even considered to even go together in the first place.

"Do you have a social media?"

"Yes."

"Are you allergic to any foods?"

"Some."

"What's your mother's maiden name?"

"No comment."

Suddenly, with the similarly ambiguous answers swirling in his thoughts, his eyes strayed down to her hands, busy scribbling feedback into papers, still far too preoccupied with her grading to notice his suspicions.

"Are you dating someone?"

"No." The answer came smoothly, no hesitance or deliberation in her voice. And when she spoke her answer, he saw her hand twitch. Her hand tucked away in the long sleeves of her sweater. Beomgyu had to bite back a smile as his next words arose in his head.

"Are you married?" She paused writing, a sly smile of her own sprouting forth as she turned to face the young boy. Her eyes narrowed much like his own investigative gaze, but she nevertheless accepted his inquiry.

"So you've discovered the loophole." She stated, lifting her left hand and letting the sleeve slide down, revealing her fingers, one of which held a diamond ring, glistening under the fluorescent lights of the classroom. His jaw dropped, staring at her in disbelief as she laughed at his reaction. His eyes darted between her face to her ring, silenced at the sudden turn of events in their little game.

And the questions seemed endless at this point, buzzing in his head and begging to be asked. How long have you been married? Why are you hiding it? Who exactly are you hiding it with? But instead, his mind opted for two alternative questions.

"Your maiden name?"

"(l/n)."

"Your current legal surname?"

"Byun."

Beomgyu hadn't even a moment to stir in his unabashed shock, because as if on cue, the doors of the classroom burst open, and in marched Professor Byun in all of his enthusiastic glory, a coffee tray and a paper bag in hand as he smiled at the woman seated at her desk.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Byun," Baekhyun placed the food items on the stack of papers she had been engrossed in, coercing an indifferent scowl from her while he unpacked the brown bag.

"That's Professor (l/n) to you." Beomgyu watched with bated breath as Baekhyun tongued the inside of his cheek cockily, leaning forward onto her desk in as suave a manner as he could muster.

"That's not what you were saying last night."

She stared at him for another second, her eye momentarily twitching in her futile attempts to keep to her somber expression, though eventually her facade slipped away from her, the English professor lowering her head in defeat as she laughed at his response.

"What's that even supposed to insinuate?" She asked between giggles, hand raising to cover her mouth. Baekhyun shrugged, spewing out his own chuckles alongside with her.

"I don't know, but it got you to laugh, so I consider it a win for me." He rested half his weight on the end of her desk, eyes trailing over to Beomgyu who still sat there with widened eyes darting between the two. "Good afternoon to you again, Mr. Choi."

"Professor Byun," he replied, voice strained and wary, the boy wholly unaware of what to make of the situation though also struggling in his attempt to not merely combust where he sat, whether it be from surprise or excitement.

Baekhyun glanced back at his wife, who was now taking sips from her new warm coffee.

"What's up with him?" He asked her, head nodding towards her now silent TA.

"He found out who you're married to."

"Ah, I thought he already knew." Baekhyun snickered, turning back to Beomgyu with an amused smile. "I thought I was secretive, but how could you not even tell your own TA you're married?"

"It never came up." She went back to grading papers, one hand holding her pen while the other held the pastry Baekhyun brought her.

"So newfound information. You must have many questions." At Baekhyun's inquiry, Beomgyu finally relinquished his restraint, the questions that were all but culminating in his head finally spilling forth like a flood. His words slurred together as he spoke in almost a rushed manner, as if to say everything on his mind before he forgot, though with how impactful of a discovery this was, he highly doubted he'd ever forget even the most minute of details of this very moment.

Baekhyun laughed at the boy's enthusiasm, barely even taking in any of his questions, though still trying to appease him as much as he could. For the first time since Beomgyu became his student, he finally had a first seat preview of Professor Byun's personal life of mundanity, and his uneventful day to day that consisted of work, grading, and spending time with his wife and cat. An ever domestic livelihood, but if the smiles on both of their faces as he discussed their daily routines were any indicator, it was a calming, fulfilling peace. A tranquility rarely ever attained, though one that's often strove for.

(y/n) flicked Baekhyun's arm with the tip of her pen, earning a whine from the man who retracted his arm from where he leant it in front of her.

"Get out, you're distracting my grading assistant."

"But I brought you sustenance." He nudged the bag which once held her midday snack as took another meaningful bite of her pastry, nodding at his words at the end of it all.

"I guess you could stay for a few minutes more."

"I brought you sustenance, and my love."

"That's not as important as the sustenance."

Though with that warm, fond smile on Baekhyun's face, and the way she paused her incessant grading to drink the coffee he brought her while responding to his commentary and jokes, it was obvious that the love was just as, if not more, important than the sustenance.

[st4rryyaeris]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘗𝘵.1

𝘒𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘬𝘢 𝘹 !𝘍𝘦𝘮 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 (𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤)

*divider belongs to @princessantisocial

A/N.

Hi everyone! This is my first x reader fic. I honestly hope I won't disappoint! Also Ik it says fem reader but feel free to change pronouns to your liking. I don't own Magica Madoka or any of the graphics associated with it. Please do not repost without permission/srs. This is also my first work for PMMM!!

Synopsis::

You (try) to Invite Madoka to attend an embroidery class with you. Wholesome and very slice of life-esque. Mami's head is still intact at this time XD

*divider belong to @plutism

"But Madoka...I'm sure you'll love this course" Y/N whined as she continued to chop up thinly sliced pieces of potato's as they listened to nightcore in Mami's Kitchen. It's been 2 days since Y/N wanted to drag Madoka with them to some embroidery class and so far, they experienced no luck.

"I-I'm not sure" Admitted Madoka with a sigh. Y/N was now adding seasoning to the potato; perplexed as to why her friend wouldn't want to join.

"I mean, what if there's many people, what if I screw up?" Madoka added with a hint of nervousness. Y/N chuckled to herself. They known her since they were like babies and she always knew that she had a knack for handicrafts; particularly crocheting and knitting. How on earth would she screw up?

However, upon realizing how nervous her friend was, Y/N's features softened as her face contorted into worry. She knew how stressed her friend was thanks to the antics of that stupid cat-thing and she really didn't want to add fuel to the fire by dragging Madoka around with her. But again, They wanted to have Madoka relax by doing something she'll like so there's that.

"I mean, we can arrange a private class...just the two of us-and Sayaka, and Mami if it makes you feel more comfortable" Y/N suggested. Upon hearing this, Madoka perked up as she leaned closer to Y/N, her pink hair almost touching one of the bowls which they prepared for her.

"Eh? Really. If that's the case, then I guess I can give it a try" Madoka answered softly as she began to smile again.

Upon hearing Madoka's response, Y/N beamed as she hastily added ketchup to the already seasoned chips. Then, she decided to split the chips into 3 bowls; Madoka, Mami and for them. Sayaka came down with an unfortunate fever and was confined to her house for a week or two. Y/N thought her concern rising as they made a mental note to themselves to boil some soup for her.

By the time Y/N was done, Madoka was sitting there; expecting her food. The television was already on and it was 5:00pm. Mami would probably return in a matter of minutes so it wouldn't hurt to start eating.

An Aroma of baked potato chips wafted through the air making Y/N hungrier. But she decided to compose themselves and confirm if Madoka really wanted to join.

"...So, do you want to join or not? We can always do something else if you prefer" Y/N suggested.

"U-uh sure!" Responded Madoka with a grin as she giggled softly. Y/n also giggled; her eyes filled with happiness as she saw her friend content.

"Hmm what are you waiting for? The chips won't be hot forever so let's dig in!" Y/n chirped playfully as they softly poked Madoka; causing her to huff at Y/N.

Pt.2:

TBA.

(Another) A/N. I hope you enjoyed this fic!! I'm so sorry if it's short. However, I'll try to make up for it by posting a part 2. This is my first attempt so don't go so hard on me! Once again Tysm!

*divider belongs to plutism.

"𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘥

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐'𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶?"- Wave to Earth (Bad)

[pugugly001]

Hypnotic Holiday

The morning of July 4th, the town was bustling with activity. The streets were full of people out to get their shopping done and make sure they had everything they needed for the Independence Day celebrations that night. But little did anyone know, a different kind of celebration was already underway in this small rural company boomtown; an invasion by fifty mysterious women who'd come to take control.

The women were all stunningly beautiful and wore revealing swimsuits which showed off their toned bodies and curves perfectly. At first glance no one noticed anything strange about them as most men simply admired from afar without getting too close or giving away any suspicions - until it was too late, when everyone would discover that these weren't just normal models but actually Eye Sirens using sexual hypnosis to lure unsuspecting victims into a trap!

All throughout the day these sirens worked their magic on every man in town without anyone suspecting what was going on until later in the afternoon when some started feeling strangely aroused for no apparent reason - realizing something wasn't quite right with these mysterious visitors soon enough though nobody knew exactly what it could be yet...

As time passed more and more men found themselves captivated by these beautiful creatures whose eyes seemed to hold some sort of power over them – while also becoming increasingly weak-willed as if being hypnotized into submission! All leading up towards what would become known as 'Dependence Day', when at last those responsible for this sudden wave of seduction revealed themselves…

Subjugation Celebration

The afternoon of July 4th was the day that would be forever known as Dependence Day. As if on cue, the Eye Sirens began to herd all the men in town into a large auditorium near the center of town. They used their hypnotic powers to lure and draw people in with promises of entertainment and prizes – unaware they were being lured into a trap!

Once everyone had gathered inside, it became clear that this wasn't just some innocent celebration; instead it seemed like something much more sinister was at work here! The Eye Sirens had locked all exits leading out from within and now stood guard over them making sure no one could escape. They then took turns parading around seductively on stage as if performing for an audience which only further intensified their victims' feelings of arousal – not realizing yet what exactly was going on but unable to look away or resist any longer...

Finally after everyone's eyes were firmly glued upon them, the sirens teasingly revealed themselves bit by bit until finally unveiling their true forms: Amazon topped by a single somehow mocking mesmerizing eye . At this moment every man present understood why they'd been so captivated - each victim now completely enslaved under her gaze unable to look away even when threatened with pain or death... And thus Dependence Day began its reign over this small company boomtown - where no man would ever again know freedom once ensnared by these mysterious women from beyond!

Everyday is Dependence day

The Eye Sirens moved through the auditorium with predatory grace, their gaze causing each man to tremble and sweat in fear as they surrounded them from all sides so there was nowhere to run or hide. The sirens seemed almost pleased by this fact, like cats playing with mice before finally consuming them they teasingly mocked the men telepathically for bring lead so easily to their doom even as their victim attempted to escape or plead for mercy.

Their gazes were both intense and alluring; reducing each man present into nothing more than an aroused slave eager to do anything just for one glimpse of these powerful creatures' faces again. Everyone succumbed eventually after being subjected long enough – forced against their will into submission and dependence on these mysterious women from beyond!

As the ranks of their victims diminished the sirens began toying with their victims like playthings - lightly stroking them or whispering sweet nothings into their ears while they could do nothing but stare helplessly back. Their telepathic mockery dug ever deeper into the souls of those fools that somehow avoided direct eye contact, a sultry cruel chorus that smirked at them while resonating inside their skull and their helpless erections – until at last every was a slave to his erection, which was a slave of the sirens.

The Eye Sirens had established Dependence Day – a holiday of desperate arousal meant to be celebrated all year long…

[getouswh0re]

TOKYO REVENGERS REACTIONS:

❤︎ forever is a long time, but I won’t mind spending it by your side ❤︎

an; how Tokyo Revengers characters realise they have fallen in love with you; warnings: none, slight angst, fluff, slight manga spoilers

characters; mikey, draken, chifuyu, baji

For as long as you could reminisce, MIKEY and you have been thick as thieves, doing all sorts of shenanigans (with most of them being his idea of course) and enjoying the time of your youth together. How you wish good times could stay like this forever; just the two of you running through the labyrinth of streets without having a single worry about what the future has to offer, the thrumming of footsteps echoing against the asphalt pavements as chime-like chortles reverberate in remnants of the dwindling sunset.

The two of you have been through ups and downs throughout the years, yet you and him would always seek for solace in each other’s company. The one incident, though, which brought both of your hearts closer than ever — was Emma’s passing. In the dingy bedroom, it was the first time you saw Mikey’s walls collapsing as he leaned into your chest, raw cries laced with heart-wrenching pain reverberating through the solemn midnight air. It broke your heart to witness the tough blonde in such a state of despair; he had lost way too many people already, and the light that was long lost in his hollow eyes now bore semblance to an impenetrable void — devoid of life, and the will to live.

“Hey, y/n ...” A meek croak cut through the lingering silence. “What does it feel like to be left alone ... before you get to realise all of the people you’ve loved is gone?”

Hearing that, your eyes were glassed with a layer of tears that was threatening to overflow. Nonetheless, you held it back, leaning forward as you pulled the blonde into your arms and gave him a tender hug.

“I know how it feels, Mikey ... it’s painful, you’re left alone, you want the agony to stop ... but you’ll not be shouldering this on your own. I’m here for you ... when you need me, okay? So please ... don’t bottle up all of these feelings by yourself. We’ll share the suffering and live on. Promise?”

People came and go in his life, yet the only one who stayed with Sano Manjiro until the very end was none other than you — his first love.

DRAKEN’S instincts have always been spot-on, and this is the same just like any other time — the only thing special is you being in the picture. From the day you become acquainted with the gang’s vice commander, Ryuguji finds himself gravitating bit by bit towards you. He would look forward to seeing you at every meeting, feeling his heart sink whenever you can’t hang out with him, Mikey and the others; initially the blonde only thinks that it is nothing more than a measly feeling — friends would look forward to hanging out with each other, right?

But it is soon proven to be wrong when an unintentional comment from him reveals his feelings towards you to everyone.

“Where is y/n? It feels a bit different today —“

As if everything is in slow motion, his friends swivel their heads around — stares burning into the back of his skull with their jaws dropped.

“Dude, you’re totally into y/n huh.”

Oh shit.

Before the blonde realises, everyone starts to bombard him with questions; not that they aren’t happy for him who finally manages to find the one, but rather — how do polar opposites like you and Ryuguji attract one another.

“Dude, you’ve totally found the right one!”

“Man I feel jealous that you have your eyes on them first! I would’ve shoot my shot if I were you.”

“If you don’t man up and confess, don’t blame me for stealing y/n off their feet —“

“Hold on!” A yell from him is all it takes to make the gang quiet. “How do you guys know it’s love? I mean it can be anything —“

“Just how dense can you be, idiot?” The others chime in unison.

Someone save him, boy is hopeless sometimes.

To pinpoint how he has fallen in love with you would be immensely difficult for CHIFUYU, there are way too many moments where he just finds himself diving headfirst into love! But if he has to choose the exact instant which kindled the flames of adoration, it would be every little bits about you which make him lovestruck.

He loves how your gaze softens at the sight of pets running around every time you come and visit him at the pet store he works at, cooing over how endearing you look as your eyes crinkle when kids wave to you on the streets, admiring your patience and kindness towards everyone you meet — the list goes on and on. Falling in love with you (to him) feels like a typical romance troupe which he has read ad nauseam in shoujo mangas, yet experiencing it firsthand is definitely a first for him.

And of all the attributes he loves about you, the one which makes Chifuyu ascertain his feelings is how you could see the good in people whom you hold dear to your heart — him included.

The sky fades into a myriad of pomegranate pink and indigo as the two of you hang out at the park after the gang meeting has ended, each of you eating an ice cream. With you finishing yours first, you turn over to look at the blonde, only to discover that he has some smudged on his cheeks. Seeing this reminds you of your childhood years together where Chifuyu also had ice cream smeared over his face — the nostalgia of it making giggles roll off your tongue, earning a perplexed look from the vice captain of the first division.

“What are you laughing at y/n??” It only make you laugh harder as his whining reaches your ears.

“Nothing! It just reminds me of how we used to hang out at the same spot when we were younger, also eating ice cream whilst watching the sunset. You also had ice cream all over your face back then. I can still remember that cute ass look on your face ~”

“Come on, it’s in the past! Stop mentioning it y/n, I’m going to die from embarrassment before long. You better attend my funeral —“

“Cute and dramatic as ever Fuyu.” You give him a tap on the nose. “But you know what? I feel so glad that fate brought me to this adorable kid with ice cream all over his face back in the days, and I’m grateful for having you in my life Chifuyu.”

Poor boy almost suffers from a heart attack.

BAJI adores your duality; whether it is watching you coo over street cats or casually firing comebacks at his occasionally snarky remarks, he embraces both sides of your personality, thinking it is what makes you unique to him. Other than that, the teen finds himself drawn towards you for another reason. Being the motherly figure of Baji and his friends, you would always make sure they take care of themselves, chiding them gently whenever they neglect their health; it is something in which he values a lot — he might be known as one of the toughest fighters in the gang, but Baji is also a teenager at heart.

Whenever he needs to vent, you would be there to lend an ear; every time he falls ill, you would rush to his house with warm chicken soup and all the necessary medications to take care of him until he feels better (despite him telling you that he is capable of taking care of himself, which he isn’t). Occasionally Baji would show up outside your bedroom window bartered and bruised, and you would put aside the things you are doing at that moment to dress his wounds, giving him a nag on how he should prioritise his safety over anything else.

You are like a pseudo parental figure to Baji — his solace and anchor whenever life doesn’t go as what he expects; he could never ask for more from you, but deep down — the teen knows that people would eventually drift apart someday.

And a part of him wished this would last forever, that he could let down his walls and be the middle school Baji that yearns to be taken care of by nobody other than you.

The longer he’s spent time around you, the more the queer sensation in his gut stirs. Baji could feel his heartbeat becoming frenzied each time he is hanging out with you, and his usual confident facade would drop as the teen stutters over words. And being rather dense at the beginning, nothing dawned upon him until Mikey and the rest almost have to withhold the urge of bonking Baji in the head for not realising how he’s fallen head over heels for you, did he realise all of this is love after all.

[dudeandduchess]

Baseball Player!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: ❌📛🔞Locker Room Fun🔞📛❌ (Modern AU, NSFW Scenario)

Summary: (Y/n) visits her husband during training, and is in for a surprise when he makes the most of things… in the locker room.

Note: After a while of thinking, I decided to finally pick this back up. Also, I didn’t have much time to research, so the description for the stadium’s interior is based solely on my experience. 😅

Warnings: Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Mild D/s Themes, Daddy Kink, Creampie, Hair Pulling, Loud Sex, Mild Sadism, Semi-Public Sex

***

If (Y/n) were to take a guess, she would say that Kyōjurō was doing what he was doing just to tease her. From the way that his ass looked so good in those pants, to the way that he would stretch his arms up over his head and show off his muscles— she had to admit that he looked scrumptious.

Tasty enough to make her bite down on her bottom lip, as she squeezed her legs together to alleviate the need building between her thighs.

But, as far as she knew, Kyōjurō couldn’t have known that she was there— since her visit was supposed to be a surprise. That fact made it so that Kyō wasn’t doing anything on purpose; he was just that naturally sexy.

Especially with the way that his uniform clung to him, and the way that a few strands of his hair peeked out from beneath the cap he wore. Everything about him had (Y/n) fighting back her lust, and she was barely winning.

However, when Kyōjurō spotted her in the stands, he gave her a cheeky grin and wave— as well as a saucy wink— that had her practically swooning in her seat. It was just fortunate that she was good at keeping a poker face, otherwise everyone would have known just how flustered she felt inside.

And with the way that he started stretching his legs, and squatting on the field… (Y/n) swore that Kyōjurō was really trying to get mauled, by her specifically. Unfortunately for him, his wife had more self control than he gave her credit for.

If anything, he was the insatiable one when it came to sex.

So, instead of outwardly feeding into his provocation, (Y/n) merely clenched her thighs tighter together; simultaneously wishing for Kyōjurō’s practice game to drag on, and be over already— because it meant she could either keep on ogling his sexy ass, or she could finally get the kiss that she’d been craving since after he left that morning.

An hour and a half later though, the game was already over with Kyōjurō’s team winning with a two-point lead. Cheers were thrown around, as well as friendly thumps on each other’s shoulders— yet Kyōjurō merely grinned at his teammates and threw a wave over his shoulder, before dashing towards the ground railings and lifting himself up onto the bleacher area with ease.

He even found himself taking the stairs two at a time— like that would help him get to his wife faster. Meanwhile, (Y/n) got out of her seat and met him halfway; arms wide open as her husband wrapped his own arms around her waist and hugged her tightly to his chest.

“I missed you, baby!” And without so much as a care about their spectators, Kyōjurō leaned in and slanted his lips against his wife’s delectable mouth. He even went saucier and opened his lips to snake his tongue between her lips— loving the way that she immediately gave in to his whim.

From below, they could hear whistles and cat calls, yet they paid it no mind. Rather, (Y/n) couldn’t focus on anything else except Kyōjurō’s lips sucking on her tongue, as well as his hands making their way down to her ass. And, unmistakably, she could feel his cock slowly getting hard against her.

“I can tell, Kyō,” (Y/n) answered with a cheeky grin, catching her breath during the reprieve that her husband had given her. “I can help you out with that… at home.”

“I can’t wait that long, (Y/n). I want you so bad,” Kyōjurō whispered heatedly, cupping her ass in his hands and pushing his erection more insistently against her body. He would have given in and just fucked her right there, especially with how tempting she looked from the moment he saw her, but he really wasn’t in the mood to be fined for indecent exposure.

So, as if a lightbulb went on in his head, Kyōjurō put a stopper on his overflowing need for his wife, and blurted out, “I have an idea… but we just have to wait a few minutes.”

“Why do I both love and hate the sound of that?”

“Trust me, baby. You’ll love it.”

***

And not even half an hour later, (Y/n) found herself getting dragged into the underbelly of the stadium; her footsteps echoing against the concrete floors and walls.

Everything was so wide and spacious, with carts going to and fro every once in a while. It was honestly a little daunting, which was why (Y/n) found herself hugging her husband’s arm; on top of already holding his hand.

Kyōjurō also smiled and waved at a few people, even going to accept a few hand shakes and pats on his shoulder from people they passed by. He was the epitome of a golden boy in baseball, that it was literally stated in his contract that he had to keep up a good rapport with his fans.

And (Y/n) couldn’t help but let her thoughts get the better of her— admiring her husband so much, that it made her want him so much more than she did before. Everything in her told her to pounce on him, like he had with her, and she was about to…

That was, until she and Kyōjurō reached a door that led off to a carpeted— and much quieter— area; away from the hustle and bustle of the people outside.

It smelled like disinfectant in there, and a little bit of sweat, which was why she was thankful that Kyōjurō practically ran with her deeper into the room; until they reached the showers. On one side was the communal shower area, and on the other— where her husband was pulling her to— were a few shower cubicles.

Kyōjurō wasted no time then, merely looking around to check if his teammates were already back from their cooldown workouts, before stripping his uniform off and heaping them in a pile right outside the stall.

All the while, (Y/n) could only bite down on her bottom lip as inch upon inch of her husband’s skin was revealed to her. And from the way that his abs looked, down to the way that his muscles moved— everything was making her so wet and needy.

Especially the sight of his big and hard cock.

Before she could stop herself, she had already pounced on him; wrapping her arms around his neck, while he lifted her up and held her up under her thighs. Thankfully, she had conveniently ‘forgotten’ to wear any panties beneath her sundress— as if a part of her just knew that it was going to happen.

Kyōjurō then pressed her back flush against the cold tile in the stall, making her gasp at the sudden temperature change, and making his cock twitch right where it was flush against (Y/n)’s pussy.

“Be quiet, baby, otherwise we’re going to get caught,” the young man teased with a grin, leaning in to kiss his wife’s lips, before nipping at her bottom lip with his teeth.

The action had (Y/n) chasing after the blond’s lips, making the blond chuckle as he gave in to her wishes; capturing her mouth in an open mouthed kiss, which she gladly reciprocated.

Until Kyōjurō inched his right hand higher up the underside of her thigh, pressing his fingers against her entrance and even pushing his ring and middle fingers inside up to the first knuckle.

That action, however, was already enough to have (Y/n) moaning in pleasure, all while she crossed her legs by the ankles— using that leverage to start rubbing her clit against the underside of Kyōjurō’s erection.

“Please, Daddy,” (Y/n) whispered in a plea, eyes fluttering closed as she felt his fingers going deeper inside her— scissoring within her walls, all to get her much wetter for something bigger.

“Please what, baby? You have to tell me what you want,” The young man teased, kissing his wife’s cheek as he felt her thighs clench harder around his hips.

And, as if to stir her up even more, he began to move his hips against hers— dragging his cock against her clit, in turn making her eyes flutter shut as salacious moans spilled free from her lips. “Please… fuck me. Fuck m-”

(Y/n)’s words were brought to a pause when she felt Kyōjurō’s fingers pull out of her, leaving her pussy feeling so empty; much, much needier. However, before she could even beg for more, her husband had already taken pity on her and lifted her up a little bit, if only to align his cock right with her entrance.

Then, he pushed in the barest inch— making (Y/n) moan aloud as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her breaths came in short bursts then, with her head feeling so heavy and her entire body getting so warm for him. It was as if an electric current passed through her, with how much pleasure she got from that one move alone.

Kyōjurō couldn’t help himself, he pushed in even more, gritting his teeth when he felt (Y/n)’s hands at the back of his neck— one of them scratching at his nape, while the other one curled into his hair. “Fuck, baby, I didn’t even eat you out but you’re this wet.”

“I’ve been wet since I saw you on the field, Daddy,” The young woman admitted through a moan, eyes hazy with delirious pleasure even as she tried to look right into her husband’s flame colored eyes.

At that, Kyōjurō claimed her lips in a kiss, letting it consume both of them until he moved his hips to begin thrusting against her. Every push of his cock inside her had her moaning against his mouth, all while her fingers kept tugging at his hair and gently scratching at his nape.

It only served to egg him on, to the point where a part of him didn’t care about how loud they were being; not when he was drowning in so much pleasure, and so much warmth in his wife’s arms.

Really, he’d already known that he was so lucky to have her— that moment was just reminding him of how much.

Every move felt like it was knocking the breath out of (Y/n), yet she held on tight and let herself sink into the heady pleasure she had been craving for. Especially when Kyōjurō pushed in really deep and brushed against her cervix.

Her legs tensed up at that, as a mix of white hot pleasure with just a hint of pain, ran down her entire body. “Deeper, Daddy! Deeper, please!”

Kyōjurō did as she asked, angling his hips to hit the part that made her absolutely crazy, only to be rewarded by her tightening her legs around his hips so she could meet him thrust for thrust. Her efforts weren’t doing much, but it was enough for him— given how he had her pressed up against the shower wall.

In the midst of things, he’d almost forgotten about his teammates— and how they would be done with their cooldown workouts soon— so, when the thought hit him, he began to thrust faster. He chased after his and his wife’s orgasms enthusiastically, not minding the noise they made since he was sure that no one other than them were in the showers.

If anything, them being so loud was turning him on even more. Especially with the way that his wife kept moaning his name in between kisses; he was loving every second of it, and wanted to prolong it as much as possible.

But slowly, he could feel the pleasure finally about to reach a tipping point within him. It was evident in his wife too, what with the way that her walls clenched down around his cock.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought that she was trying to keep his cock in her forever. A hot thought, but definitely well within the realms of fantasy more than reality.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close,” He whispered through winded breaths, keeping up with his initial pace before going for one last burst of speed— a move that had (Y/n) keening in pleasure, as she threw her head back and came around his cock.

It was the headiest thing that he had seen since the night before, when he’d fucked her much harder with her all tied up in their bed. And it also served to have him opting for slower and deeper thrusts, all so he could savor his own orgasm— and maybe wring out another one from her.

Her walls fluttered around his dick, adding to the headiness he already felt bubbling within him; pushing him closer and closer to the edge, until he couldn’t take it anymore and gave in— sliding his cock in to the hilt and pressing his slit up against (Y/n)’s sweet spot as he came.

He could even feel her shaking, as it triggered another orgasm from her.

And by the time that his thoughts were clear enough to make sense of what had just happened, he pulled back a little to look at how blissed out his wife was; feeling the corners of his lips tip up into a smile, before he leaned in to press the sweetest of kisses to those lips that he loved the most in the world.

“I’m so lucky to have you, baby. So, so lucky.”

***

BONUS:

“Has anyone seen where Rengoku went?”

Kyōjurō’s eyes immediately widened when he heard the voices coming down the hall— right into the shower area. And with a panicked look over his shoulder, then right at his wife, he had only realized that he didn’t even pull the shower curtain closed.

So, with his quick reflexes, he pulled the curtain closed just in time to hear the first of his teammates enter the shower area.

“Hey, Rengoku’s already here! His things are on the floor.” And those words had Kyō panicking even more, because there he was— with his dick still in his wife— in the team’s shower.

“We are not doing this again, Kyōjurō,” (Y/n) hissed under her breath, all while praying that no one would mess with her husband and open the curtain. Because really, they’d get more than they bargained for.

[totebagchiqbarista]

can we have a chat noir x reader x ladybug where chat and lady are constantly trying to out due in battles each other for the reader’s attention, even in school with adrian and marionette

a loving feeling

Pairing: Adrien/Chat Noir, Marinette/Ladybug x GenderNeutral!Reader

Here's the first request I got! I literally love this idea so much oh my god. I hope you like it :)

“Adrien, dude, go talk to them. Now’s your chance!“ said Nino, reassuringly patting his best friend on the back. Adrien’s palms sweat just because of the thought of talking to them. It had been so long since he felt anything other than platonic love for somebody and was losing his mind. Adrien knew he wasn’t the only one who saw Y/N as potentially someone who was to be more than a friend. How could he be? 

“Go! Now!“ Nino pushed him closer to the infatuating dream of his best friend. Disappearing in a split second he rebounded with his girlfriend. 

Adrien made a few steps. It has seemed the person of his dreams was way too far away from him. Fear grew with each step and his heart was now beating in his throat, unable to catch a breath. Yes! They are so close! He can see them, just a bit more. He is already there, just hanging by the tip of a finger... And suddenly he was in a broom closet. 

“Oh, Plagg I chickened out again“ Adrien cried, clenching his fists against the wall. The kwami flew around his head in an attempt to catch his gaze. 

“Honestly Adrien, you could only talk to them when you were Cat Noir. But when you’re...well you, you lose your mind!“ he spoke “You see, cheese doesn’t do that to a person“

“You’re a kwami“

“My point still stands.“

Adrien banged his hair against the wall. It’s true, he could always talk to them when he was dressed in black. “I'm going to talk to them, today!”

“You go to the same class, you talk to them every day “ Plagg rolled his eyes, getting tired of the same old story his owner has been playing over and over

The blonde boy shook his head trying to talk to Plagg on a serious note “You know what I mean”

Upon entering the class, Marinette stumbled over her thoughts. She had decided she will talk to them today. She had no idea how, but she had put her mind to it. She is doing this.

"Hi, Marinette," said Y/N when they saw the bluenette deep in her thought.

Marinette's eyes widened in surprise, her breath hitching in her throat. She had to process what is happening before she could open her mouth.

"O-oh, hi, Y/N. Are you how? I mean, how you are?" she felt embarrassed by the inability to speak as she tried to collect herself "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. Do you want to sit next to me today? Nino and Alya sat together." they questioned, pointing to the couple in love, sat in the second row.

Marinette's face lit up in joy as she shook her head in approval "Yeah, I will". The two sat down in the first row, waiting for the class to start.

"So, Y/N, tell me, um do you- want to-" Blue-haired girl started as the duo collected their bags and headed towards the door. Y/N watched the girl carefully until she was interrupted by a loud cheer behind them.

They turned around, meeting eyes with a pair of green ones that lit under the blonde hair. "Hi, Adrien!" they waved in response.

Marinette's face reddened. It wasn't just because of the Adrien himself who too, made her blush a little. But it was because he could not have found the worse time to come by...

Her fingers twitched as she watched him smile sweetly and sly to the person she was just about to ask out. He had a kind, heart-warming smile on his face, and he was talking so softly to them. His fingers twirled in his blonde hair as he...

Marinette's face widened at the realization. The guy was stealing her date!

"Actually, we were talking you can come back by later" she interrupted blushing Adrien, taking Y/N's hand in hers and walking off. Without thinking, Adrien reached out, grabbing Y/N's hand. His fingers wrapped around their wrist. "Why can't I join you?" he blurted.

"Of course you can!" Y/N exclaimed

"No, you can't. Don't you have a fencing class to attend to?" Marinette fought back, crossing her hands on her chest.

"It got postponed"

"It never does"

"But today it has so I have an hour of free time"

Y/N watched as the two held a strong eye contact filled with rage and jealousy. Their bodies came closer and closer as they fought back and forth for their attention.

Suddenly, the door of the school burst open, shrieks fulfilling the building. A woman dressed in black entered, her ripped dress falling to the floor. Silver hair of hers flowed in the wind as she wrapped her fingers tighter around the machine in her hand. Two rat ears grew on the tip of her head and a tail that followed the theme.

She walked around, shooting every random passenger and turning them into...rats?

"We have to hide!" Y/N exclaimed as they took both of their hands, leading them into a classroom.

Marinette stuttered, ripping their hands apart even though that was the last thing she wanted to do. "I forgot my bag in the other classroom, I have to get that, it's important, you guys go hide now!"

Y/N nodded, running again, leaving Adrien to follow along. "Locker rooms! We can hide there" he said, grabbing them by the hand and running to the secure place in school.

"Chloe! Where are you Chloe!" the rat lady yelled, leading her way through the corridors of the Françoise Dupont High School. "Hide here," he said, showing them a safe place in one of the lockers.

"You too." They said pointing to the one across. Adrien only nodded in response and faking it once they were completely safe. The blonde's legs carried him to the bathroom by the speed of light.

Closing the door he took a moment to take a deep breath and rest his back against the wall. His kwami reappeared in front of his face, waiting for a word. Something. Anything.

"Don't you have a significant other to save, Adrien?"

Adrien got himself on his feet, away from the daydreams. Plagg was right, he did everything better when he was Chat Noir, so saving them should be as easy too. Maybe then he can finally talk to them without interruptions or his own fears.

The blonde nodded. "Plagg claws out!"

Although they knew they could be in danger, Y/N couldn't take being locked up in a locker anymore. She stepped out, only to be met by Adrian's open locker. The rat lady must have got to him.

"Stupid" they hummed to themselves as they looked around, figuring out what to do.

Suddenly, the door to the locker room opened and the infamous black cat costume appeared before them, taking their breath as always. "Well hello I guess we're stuck in danger together," he said flirty "Might as well make the most out of it" he bowed down before them.

"Poor kitty, and where's your lady?" They said, teasingly to the cat boy who so desperately tried to get under their skin.

"Said she will be right back."

And just on queue, the lady in red stormed into the room. Taking a look at Chat Noir once she sighed. "I'm sorry to do this, but it's important. Multimouse, I need you." She handed the already well-known miraculous box to them as they nodded in response.

It was safe to say Chat Noir was losing his mind. His eyes widened at the sudden information, as he stared at them in amazement. "You're Multimouse?!" he squeaked. Thinking back on the previous times Multimouse came to help and he did nothing but flirt with them. There was something that stood out about them and he never knew what. Now, it all made sense.

Then yet again, he wonders how whenever Multimous was around, Ladybug also got way more talkative and goofy and eager for their attention. He remembers all the fights over Multimouse he and the lady had led. It all came together now.

"Of course I am," they said, tying the necklace around their neck and meeting with Mullo, once again.

"I've missed you Y/N," Mullo said, happily flying around.

"I can say the same" they responded, ready to transform "Mullo, get squeaky!"

"Wow," both of the Paris' superheroes were smitten. Stealing a dirty look from each other for one last time they created a plan with Multimouse to defeat Ninkilia. As Ladybug said, she is completely sure the Akuma is in her hand machine.

"That's the plan, just follow my lead" she finished her speech

"As you wish my lady" Multimouse chimed in before Chat Noir could say anything. Ladybug's hot cheeks were prominent through her mask, and the cat looked nothing but jealous.

"R-right, let's go" the girl with spots exclaimed, her cheeks still burning red.

Jumping from the roof, Multimouse teased the villain. "A mouse? No!" Ninkilia yelled. "If you can live in the garbage now, why can't you do it in a form of a true rat itself" she cried as she shot around random people on the street.

"We have to get to her hand machine quickly," Chat Noir said fighting the lady in black. "And maybe then we can go somewhere just the two of us."

He winked at Multimouse who only laughed, and earned a look of pure hatred from Ladybug. Expecting a comment on his own behalf, Chat Noir was surprised by the lady's response. "You don't want to go with him trust me. I know the best ice cream in town."

Multimouse only laughed "Let's get rid of this rat lady first," they said "Multitude!"

"No, not the mice!" Ninkilia desperately tried shooting the little mice around her as they climbed up her legs. Ladybug's yoyo wrapped around her, pinning her to the ground.

"Chat Noir!" Ladybug exclaimed.

"Cataclysm"

The Akuma has been purified and the trio has once more, saved the day. "Pound it!"

"It has been a pleasure working with you" black cat smiled sheepishly, taking the mouse's hand and kissing it softly. "Will I have the pleasure of seeing you again soon?"

"We'll see," they said, signalizing Ladybug it's time to go.

Ladybug pulled them close, taking them by the waist and already feeling her heart beat faster. Multimouse, or precisely, Y/N placed their head in the crook of her neck and sent shivers down her spine. Soon, they were flying through the air, holding just by her yoyo.

"Thank you for choosing me," they said, as they scootched closer to her body, clinging in fear of falling down.

"How could I not?"

Marinette's heartbeat raced faster as they shared a soft smile. If it were up to her, she would like to fight alongside them all the time.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Delight in Misery

- Chapter 10 (ao3) -

tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 (interlude), part 9

-

In Lan Wangji’s view, the best part about the upcoming visit by Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen wasn’t the excuse to drag a tetchy and reluctant Jiang Cheng night-hunting, nor the chance to meet such interesting and swiftly famous cultivators, or even the vanishingly rare opportunity to learn more about Wei Wuxian by exploring his heritage on his mother’s side.

No – it was definitely the way the mere concept transformed Jiang Cheng into a stuttering teenaged admirer about to see their revered idol for the first time.

“You remember that they are both nearly ten years your junior?” he asked as Jiang Cheng fussed around, alternating between worrying himself sick for not being prepared to receive guests (for all that the Jiang sect had been receiving honored guests for years at this point) and bragging about the exploits of their soon-arriving guests to the fascinated flock of children dogging his heels.

“No more than seven or eight at most,” Jiang Cheng objected, and Lan Wangji rolled his eyes. “Anyway, that’s not the point. Look at how accomplished they both are! When I was that age, I hadn’t done anything!”

Lan Wangji didn’t think that was entirely right. When Jiang Cheng had been the age Xiao Xingcheng and Song Zichen were now, he’d endured the loss of his sect and rebuilt it from nothing, acting more or less singlehandedly while still finding time to fight the Wen sect shoulder-to-shoulder with the other Great Sects and also search for the missing Wei Wuxian with Lan Wangji.

He opted not to mention it.

Let Jiang Cheng keep his illusions and ignore the steady encroachment of time.

“You’re calling me old in your head,” Jiang Cheng said accusingly, and Lan Wangji pasted an innocent expression on his face as confirmation. “You are, you bastard! You know you’re older than me, right?”

Lan Wangji could get a great deal of out of an admission like that.

“That’s not what I meant! We’re peers, you…!” Jiang Cheng huffed. “Listen, you’d better be on your best behavior around our guests, all right? I don’t want them to be scared off just because it looks like you’re glowering whenever you think –”

“I’ll follow your example, then, and simply not think at all.”

“Go jump off a pier!”

The children all giggled.

“You’re all going to be on best behavior too,” Jiang Cheng told them, fierce as a hissing domestic cat and just as adorably toothless. “You hear me? All of you! A-Yuan, A-Ling, that means you’re going to be cute but not spoiled, while A-Yu can – actually, just do the same as them in an age-appropriate way, you’re cute enough –”

Mo Xuanyu beamed.

“Still, we don’t know what they’re like. Start by being a little reserved – not too loud –”

Lan Sizhui waved for attention as if they were in a classroom.

“…yes?” Jiang Cheng asked, looking vaguely resigned and grumpy in a way that was clearly meant to conceal how unbearably charming he found the gesture.

“Can I be called Sizhui this time?” Lan Sizhui asked eagerly. “I’m old enough!”

Jiang Cheng frowned a bit, and Lan Wangji understood. The Jiang sect generally didn’t use courtesy names until the child in question had mastered a full sword routine, usually age eight or nine, and close family almost never made the switch in full; from what Lan Wangji knew, Jiang Yanli had called Jiang Cheng ‘A-Cheng’ right up until the end of her life, not to mention referring routinely to Wei Wuxian, who she’d only met when he was already old enough to use his courtesy name, as ‘A-Xian’. The Lan sect, in contrast, started using courtesy names almost exclusively once a child was old enough to leave his parents, typically age three or four – Lan Wangji had been calling Lan Sizhui by name for years already, and had been needling Jiang Cheng to pick it up as well without success.

“I’ll introduce you,” Lan Wangji offered, saving Jiang Cheng the awkwardness of having to explain or decline or, worst of all for someone like Jiang Cheng, accidentally slip up and say something sappy like you’ll always be A-Yuan to me.

Lan Sizhui nodded, satisfied, and next to him, Jin Ling frowned. “What about me?” he asked. “Am I going to be Rulan?”

“The Jin sect is the last of the Great Sects in using courtesy names,” Jiang Cheng said, finally on more solid ground. “Not until you get your sword, and that’s not until you’re eleven. Or twelve!”

“But I already have a sword…”

“The age you would be if you were getting your own,” Lan Wangji interjected. “To make it fair to all the rest.”

That seemed to reassure Jin Ling, who nodded. “Good,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna be Rulan, anyway…jiujiu, when did you say these guests would be arriving?”

That, of course, sent Jiang Cheng back into a flurry of activity, and Lan Wangji shook his head, long-suffering. “You’ve hosted entire discussion conferences,” he pointed out to Jiang Cheng. “There are only two cultivators this time. It is far easier.”

“Is it?” Jiang Cheng shot back. “Is it really?”

In contrast to the expectation and build up leading up to it, the actual arrival of Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen was rather unremarkable. They arrived just as the sun was setting, two young men, one beautiful and the other handsome, both valiant heroes with faces that shone with kindness and righteousness. Xiao Xingchen’s face was curved in a gentle smile, Song Zichen set in a neutral expression. Both seemed sincere and respectful when they bowed deeply in greeting.

“It’s a pleasure and honor to host such heroes,” Jiang Cheng said, nodding his head regally in return. He really had at some point learned how to fake being a competent and confident sect leader, and it might have even had the effect he was going for if it wasn’t for the small gaggle of children very eagerly stealing peeks from next to him – but Lan Wangji wasn’t going to be the one to tell on them. “I’ve heard many stories of your adventures, and I have long looked forward to meeting you in person. My Lotus Pier is open to you for as long as you require.”

“Sect Leader Jiang is upright and straightforward, well known for his righteousness,” Xiao Xingchen said, and perhaps only Lan Wangji knew precisely why Jiang Cheng flushed with such pleasure at a compliment more commonly applied to Nie Mingjue. “We are happy to be here as your guests.”

Jiang Cheng nodded a second time, still a little stiff and wooden. “You have traveled quite a distance. Are you tired or hungry..?”

They shook their heads in refusal.

Jiang Cheng darted a glance at Lan Wangji, then turned back to them, finally relaxing out of the excess formality that suited Jin Guangshan far more than it did Jian Cheng. “In that case,” he said, his voice a little dry. “Upon the suggestion of certain of my advisors, would you prefer to cut the boring small talk and go out on a night-hunt instead?”

Xiao Xingchen’s face split into a genuine smile, and even Song Zichen’s severity seemed a little eased.

“What an excellent idea, Sect Leader Jiang,” Xiao Xingchen said warmly. “We’d be happy to. I was just telling Song Zichen not long ago that it seemed as though we hadn’t been on a proper hunt in far too long.”

“You think you have problems, try being a sect leader,” Jiang Cheng replied impulsively, then turned red when he realized how rude he’d just been. “That is, I mean – well, there’s not nearly as much free time, that’s all.”

Xiao Xingchen laughed. It gave Lan Wangji a good impression of him: light-hearted and lively, his demeanor kind and good-humored. Despite the lack of blood relation, Lan Wangji was reminded of Wei Wuxian – although perhaps that was just his wistful thinking.

“Well, there’s a reason Zichen and I haven’t started our own just yet,” he said mischievously. “There’s time for that later, after all. Youth is when you make a name for yourself! And speaking of which, I’ve heard plenty about your own prowess, Sandu Shengshou. I admit I’m looking forward to seeing Zidian in action.”

Jiang Cheng looked unbearably pleased at the compliment, clearly sincerely meant, and something in Lan Wangji’s heart that he hadn’t even known was tense finally eased.

He hadn’t realized that he himself was nervous about this meeting – less for his own sake, although he burned with curiosity to learn everything he could about Wei Wuxian, than for Jiang Cheng, who had longed for this meeting so much, cared so much. Lan Wangji found to his bemusement that he had even been a little afraid: afraid that the two strangers would be cold or arrogant, afraid that they’d reject Jiang Cheng tentative overtures of friendship – that Jiang Cheng would be disappointed.

Lan Wangji might enjoy teasing Jiang Cheng into a frenzy, but that was his prerogative. In fact, one could argue that it was only what he was due for having lived with and put up with the man for so long. He’d been the one who’d been there all this time, the one who’d put in so much effort to help rebuild him back into the man he could be rather than the wreck he had been; he’d earned the right to mock him.  

No one else was entitled to so much as touch the hem of his robes.

“I have heard much of your matchless skill as well, Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said, his voice unexpectedly deep, and Lan Wangji’s attention came back to him as he returned the man’s salute. They both had reputations for being closed-mouthed ice-blocks, and it seemed to Lan Wangji that Song Zichen was probably just reserved, like him, rather than truly standoffish.

“You’re in for a treat, then,” Jiang Cheng said with a faint smirk. “Whether in sword or music, few can match Hanguang-jun’s talents, and he never stints on displaying them.”

To the untried ear, perhaps Jiang Cheng sounded bitter or jealous, and given his competitive mania he probably was, a little, but to Lan Wangji he sounded more smug than anything else, as proud as if he were the one being praised.

With everything settled, they headed off at once.

The subject of the night-hunt was nothing terribly exciting – a troop of fierce corpses ravaging the countryside that someone had finally managed to divine the location of, with the only interesting aspect about them being that they were unusually fast-moving – so there was plenty of time for them to talk as they followed the trail.

Lan Wangji expected Jiang Cheng to start asking questions about the immortal mountain and Wei Wuxian’s mother at once – Jiang Cheng might be prideful and thin-faced, prone to shame and overthinking, but he’d been raised along Wei Wuxian, who was second to none in shamelessness, and Lan Wangji was well aware of how much he hungered for that knowledge.

Of course, probably as a direct result of Lan Wangji’s expectations, Jiang Cheng went for a completely different target.

“It’s said that we live in an age of young heroes,” he remarked, seemingly casual. “Of course, for most of us, that was simply the inevitable result of war – crisis demands the best from people, regardless of age. Without such necessity to spur us onwards, most of us probably would’ve been still kicking our heels even now, whereas you two became heroes as soon as you arrived…how old are you now, again?”

“We are both twenty-one,” Song Zichen said, and Lan Wangji used the moment to glare over at Jiang Cheng when he mouthed six years at him – was this really the time to quibble over something as pointless as the exact age gap between them, which he’d clearly inquired about for no other purpose than to prove Lan Wangji’s earlier assumption wrong? This was Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle here! They should be getting all the information out of him that they could!

(Lan Wangji had long ago decided that when it came to feuding over minor matters with Jiang Cheng, he would be as gracious in defeat as his opponent…which was to say, not at all.)

Jiang Cheng smirked at him, knowing what he was thinking, but then – finally – turned the subject onto the immortal mountain, or more specifically its former disciples.

This time it was Song Zichen’s turn to relax minutely, Lan Wangji noticed. A moment’s thought revealed the reason: they’d probably feared cultivators asking questions that were far more pointed than what they were getting from them – cultivators greedy for the secrets of immortality. No wonder they so assiduously avoided being hosted by the Great Sects, and had done so even before Lanling Jin had gotten in the way of their heroism.

Well, luckily for them, the interest Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji had was a little more…down to earth.

“Cangse Sanren was a talent to shake the ages,” Xiao Xingchen said, his eyes bright and expression enthusiastic. “It was as if anything she turned her mind to, she excelled at, and she turned her mind to all sorts of things without discrimination – painting, poetry, swordsmanship…” He paused, then firmed his shoulders. “I heard that her son was much the same..?”

Lan Wangji felt a smile want to come up to his lips.

It seemed that Xiao Xingchen was just as interested in finding out more about his martial nephew as they were in finding out more about Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle.

Jiang Cheng glanced over at Lan Wangji, who nodded very shallowly, indicating his approval. In his judgment, both of them seemed safe enough: trustworthy, and not like people who would spread gossip.

They could talk about Wei Wuxian.

Talk truly about him, praising his good points and speaking fondly of his faults…these two, Lan Wangji thought, wouldn’t judge them harshly for failing to condemn him, and they wouldn’t tell anyone else, either.

Later, after they’d finished dispatching the ghouls – and the Wei Wuxian portion of the conversation, for which Jiang Cheng had taken the lead and which a listening Lan Wangji had enjoyed tremendously, largely on account of Xiao Xingchen’s genuine enthusiasm for learning everything he could about the martial nephew he had only just barely missed meeting, fearsome Yiling Patriarch or not – Jiang Cheng finally and regretfully brought them back to the original subject.

“I heard that you two are collecting allies to go after Xue Yang,” he said, and pretended (just as Lan Wangji did) to ignore the way Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen suddenly glanced at each other. “I’ll support that, of course. From everything I’ve heard, he’s become a mad dog, trying to bite anyone he sees. Hasn’t he been launching all sorts of raids on sects left and right these past few years?”

They nodded.

“Rather pointless ones,” Song Zichen said, a deep frown on his face. “He runs in and causes chaos, then flees into the night – he barely even stops to kill people, and almost never steals treasures. At most he goes to make trouble by defacing the walls of some of the ancestral tombs…we can see no sense in it. The only explanation is that his demonic cultivation has in fact driven him mad.”

Demonic cultivation didn’t necessarily drive a person mad. That was something Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng had painfully learned over the years, much to Jiang Cheng’s distress. However, it certainly didn’t help maintain calmness or peace of mind; there was every chance that a delinquent like Xue Yang had had his temperament worsened by demonic cultivation, leading to his present circumstances.

“Indeed,” Jiang Cheng said noncommittally. “I really have only question for you, then.”

Knowing where this was going, Lan Wangji turned his gaze on their guests’ expression.

“Haven’t you been chasing him on your own for all these years now, trying to get him to go to trial for his crimes, refusing any offers of help?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice suddenly pointed. “Why the sudden change in favor of asking for help now?”

Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen shared another long look between them.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen cleared his throat. “In truth,” he said, “we spread that rumor as a smokescreen. We’re not looking for allies, generally speaking…we really only wanted a reason to ask for your help.”

Jiang Cheng stopped and stared, visibly surprised. Lan Wangji kept his expression more neutral, but privately he was just as taken aback; when they’d discussed this earlier, planning out this conversation in advance, that wasn’t even remotely one of the possibilities they’d considered.

“My help?” Jiang Cheng asked cautiously. “Or…?”

“Yours and Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said. “We weren’t sure who else to turn to.”

“What’s the issue?” Jiang Cheng asked, waving a hand to halt their forward progress. A good idea, in Lan Wangji’s view: it was the middle of the night, and they were in the middle of the forest in the back hills near the Lotus Pier, with no one around for a good distance except for trusted Jiang sect disciples – if there needed to be privacy for this discussion, this was the best place for it.

Another shared glance.

Lan Wangji slanted a glance of his own to Jiang Cheng, who returned it: they’d been right, there really was something unusual with this visit.

They stood in silence for a while.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen yielded. “Very well,” he said, and met Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “Sect Leader Jiang…can you tell us what you know about the Ghost General?”

Jiang Cheng stiffened, his fists clenching.

Lan Wangji’s heart felt just as stiff. He stepped forward.

“There are many people who can tell you about Wen Ning,” he said neutrally, watching them carefully. “Assuming that what you wish to know is how he fought or his transformation into a conscious fierce corpse. Is your concern that Xue Yang has replicated the technique and created his own ghost general?”

He didn’t think it would be that. As he’d said, everyone knew what Wen Ning had done once he’d become the Ghost General – the Jin sect would know far better than either of them how fearsome he was, since it was at Jinlin Tower that he had erupted in his final massacre. If they wanted to know about fierce corpses in general, they could go there.

To come here, to Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji – the only two people who were known to have gone up to the Yiling Burial Mounds while Wei Wuxian lived there with Wen Ning at his side, the only living people who knew what the Ghost General was like when he wasn’t being a weapon, to know what Wen Ning was like as a person – suggested something different.

Something impossible.

Xiao Xingchen met his eyes. “It is not.”

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice tight and unsteady. “He murdered my brother-in-law, my nephew’s father, and when Lanling Jin demanded his head as retribution, he and his sister went to them under pretense of surrender and murdered even more of them before they were taken down. He was destroyed.”

They said nothing.

“The former Sect Leader Jin was very interested in demonic cultivation,” Lan Wangji said slowly. “While Wei Wuxian lived, he sought to claim the Stygian Tiger Seal. When he died…”

He glanced at Jiang Cheng a second time. They had not discussed the subject of the Siege of the Burial Mounds in any detail, as it inevitably put Jiang Cheng into a terrible frame of mind, and Lan Wangji remembered with a shudder the state they had both been in at that fateful meeting – he didn’t want to remember it himself, much less bring back bad memories for Jiang Cheng.

They certainly hadn’t discussed the subject of spoils. The only thing that had ever brought it to mind was the silent presence of Chenqing lying in place of pride in the Jiang sect’s memorial hall as the substitute for the memorial tablet they could not afford to raise for Wei Wuxian.

It hadn’t seemed relevant.

It was now.

“Sect Leader Jin took it,” Jiang Cheng confirmed, his voice shaking a little. “The Stygian Tiger Seal was broken in two, and Wei Wuxian destroyed one of the halves – the Jin sect claimed the other, saying that they were going to destroy it. I think they took more than that, too…I know they took Suibian, but they also took all the papers that’d been left in the cave. I always suspected that that was why they were so protective of Xue Yang, who was a demonic cultivator himself – that Jin Guangshan wanted to squeeze him for information, or maybe even use him to figure out some of Wei Wuxian’s notes…”

His voice trailed off, and he shook his head furiously.

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” he insisted. “The Jin sect scattered his ashes! They – they…”

“They lied,” Song Zichen said.

Lan Wangji pressed his lips together. He had no particularly warm feelings towards Wen Ning, who had been Wei Wuxian’s shadow in that last year or so of life when Wei Wuxian had turned his back on the world – a position Lan Wangji would have given his left arm to have, and over which he had had all sorts of inappropriate feelings of envy and stifled, unjustified possessiveness – but Jiang Cheng took the man’s existence far more personally.

In Jiang Cheng’s view, it had been for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had stolen the Wen sect remnants, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had abjured his relationship with the Jiang sect and Jiang Cheng himself, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had given up everything, and yet simultaneously it had also been Wen Ning that had pushed him to the very brink and over. Wen Ning who had murdered Jin Zixuan – Wen Ning who Wei Wuxian had so brutally avenged in the massacre at the Nightless City, at which Jiang Yanli had died.

Wen Ning, who they thought had been destroyed.

“We believe that the former Sect Leader Jin hid Wen Ning away instead of destroying him, then gave Xue Yang access to him, just as he did with the Tiger Seal and Wei Wuxian’s notes,” Xiao Xingchen said, his face solemn. “We also believe that Xue Yang took Wen Ning away with him when he escaped Jinlin Tower once the former sect leader died and the current sect leader took over. We believe that he has been controlling him through demonic cultivation, using him as something of an – accomplice, or something of the sort.”

“Controlling him how?” Jiang Cheng asked. They paused, and he continued, “I’m not stupid. You’re very sure that Wen Ning’s not gone, which means you located him and saw something that made you think so. What was it?”

Lan Wangji nodded shallowly, approving of Jiang Cheng’s deduction – and of the self-mastery he was demonstrating in not exploding in rage on the spot.

“He had nails in his head,” Xiao Xingchen said. “He…the Ghost General was mindless and unthinking, but strong. Very strong. He…”

He trailed off, and shook his head, seeming a bit sad.

“What help do you require from us?” Lan Wangji said, suddenly sick of the tension, and he saw Jiang Cheng throw him a look full of relief for having raised the question.

“Hanguang-jun is right,” Jiang Cheng said, backing him up at once. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you need us for? You two are heroes, and half the cultivation world would sell their firstborn child for a chance to bring down the Ghost General to increase their fame – there’s no way you came here just to get our help in bringing him down. If that’s what you wanted, it wouldn’t have needed to be us, and there wouldn’t have needed to be a smokescreen. What do you want?”

“We want to heal him,” Xiao Xingchen said solemnly. “To bring back his consciousness and return his sanity. But we don’t know what he was like, before Xue Yang. The only ones that do are the two of you.”

“You do remember that he killed my brother-in-law?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice sharp.

“At Wei Wuxian’s order,” Song Zichen responded, equally sharp. “You do not blame the sword for the men it kills.”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes briefly, in pain at the reminder. He took a breath, steadying himself, and then another.

He opened his eyes.

“We will help,” he said, and ignored the betrayed look Jiang Cheng shot his way. They would talk about it later, and he would help Jiang Cheng see that this was what they had to do, no matter how painful. “And we will not betray the secret of his existence.”

“Thank you,” Xiao Xingchen said, and saluted deeply; Song Zichen did as well. “And yet, we have more we would ask of you.”

“Spit it out, then,” Jiang Cheng growled.

“Finding Wen Ning had shown us that Xue Yang’s actions have gone truly beyond the pale, beyond redemption,” Song Zichen said, and his voice was fierce. That wasn’t surprising: it had been his childhood home, his master and fellow disciples, that Xue Yang had attacked. “He is, as you said, a mad dog, biting all that he can – I believe that Wen Ning was his only companion as he fled, chased by the whole cultivation world these past few years. I fear what Xue Yang will do now that his last connection to humanity is gone. He is capable of anything.”

“We must find him,” Xiao Xingchen agreed. “We must find Xue Yang, and we must stop him from doing – whatever it is that he will do next. I cannot even begin to imagine the atrocities he might perpetrate. And so we must ask…”

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng said, and they both looked at him, surprised. “We’ll help you heal Wen Ning, and we’ll even help you hunt down Xue Yang. But this time, no excuses, no dragging your feet, no waiting for a proper trial, nothing like that. He dies, you hear me? Xue Yang is to be killed on sight!”

“I agree,” Lan Wangji said, folding his hands together behind his back. He had helped Jiang Cheng in pursuing and judging demonic cultivators before – there were those that could be granted mercy, and those for whom the only just answer was death; time and too many second chances had made inescapably clear that Xue Yang was the latter. “Each time you have sought to bring him to trial, he has taken advantage of your devotion to justice to escape.”

Xiao Xingchen looked at Song Zichen, who nodded firmly; a moment later, Xiao Xingchen sighed and nodded himself. “Agreed,” he said. “You will help us?”

“We will,” Jiang Cheng said grimly, and Lan Wangji nodded in full support. “It would be a pleasure to wipe that trash off the face of this earth.”

-

The town was full of mist and fog, choking the throat and making it hard to breathe or see; the feng shui of the entire valley was as bad as could be, and there was more miasma than there was air.

“You there, drunkard, what are you doing!” someone shouted at a figure lying halfway in the door of a house that was filled to the brim with coffins. “Don’t mock our livelihood! Just because it’s a coffin house doesn’t make it a good place to play dead!”

The figure stirred.

But I’m not playing dead, he thought, rubbing his aching head with one hand, noticing that he seemed to be missing his little finger. I actually was dead, wasn’t I?

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

7th Dimension (Chapter 3.1)

7TH DIMENSION SYNOPSIS/MASTERLIST

PREVIOUSLY ON CHAPTER 3

WATTPAD LINK FOR 7TH DIMENSION

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Small!Naive!Fem!Foreign!Reader | THIS IS A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC. THIS IS AN X READER FANFIC WHO HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO THE DIMENSION OF JUJUTSU KAISEN | (Trust me, you'll live. I hope?)

Summary: (PART 2) It has been three days that you were unconscious and on bedrest. Gojo Satoru was restless due to the fact of the relics you own---the manga panels you had on hand while surviving a car-crash in the middle of the Hanami incident. He was impatient for information and Satoru was not one to keep himself out of the subject matter especially that these artifacts you acquired had memories of the one and only bestfriend he had and also sketches of a future that left him clueless for whatever lays ahead for him.

Warnings: Brief mention of Riko Amanai. Please don't hate Satoru on this one and with the way he was thinking. Megumi, Yuji and Kugisaki moments.

Tell me if you want to be tagged whenever I publish chapters for 7th Dimension! Send an ask or message me!

A/N: I'm sorry I keep publishing chapters with part 1, part 2 and so on. I tend to be descriptive, so I've been cutting it into different parts so y'all won't get too overwhelmed by it. 😅😂😥 (My cat keeps walking on my lap for the tenth time today while I'm trying to edit this---I apologize the typos and grammatical errors!)

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE SUPER-DUPER HIGHLY APPRECIATED! IT GIVES ME SUCH MOTIVATION AND INSPO!

Words: 2.5k words. (Kinda short! This was the next part for chapter 3. I just had to cut it into two because if I did include this on chapter 3 then I would've reached 9k words for one chapter? Hehehe)

Disclaimer: PNG's or pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. I only own the plot of this whole fanfic. But, not Jujutsu Kaisen's storyline. I apologize for the typos or grammatical errors by the way! English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry in advance! Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be. This has no connection towards the anime or manga as this is a FANFIC.

KUGISAKI NOBARA, A FEMALE FIRST YEAR STUDENT OF GOJO SATORU, a classmate of Yuji Itadori and Fushiguro Megumi who had high reserves of cursed energy and is an expert on manipulating it, wasn't known to be a very patient woman especially when she was ecstatic upon going to places she hardly knew of. She was definitely infuriated over the fact that their Sensei was taking too long than what he promised. It has been twenty minutes already and her anticipation and enthusiasm over experiencing to dine in another known Sushi Restaurant around Tokyo was starting to die down because of their time being bided.

To a great degree of the fact that it was on Gojo's call for the sudden gift of treat.

"Adults are really annoying---," Nobara mumbled beneath her breath, growling through gritted teeth as she crossed her arms in disdain and also glaring at their teacher from where she stood beneath outside. The first year student acknowledged your presence who stood thunderstruck and petrified beside Gojo, painstakingly the contrary of him who wore the brightest smile while sending down a big wave to his students. She was dressed in her typical Jujutsu school uniform, A dark-blue button-down jacket and a long matching skirt that reaches just above her knees.

"--They take long in everything."

"Not all adults. Probably just, Gojo-Sensei." Megumi took his time upon descending the stairs with feathered foot steps, his scowl from the first experience he had with you and Gojo left a lasting impression that you were bound to be chaotic with the Sensei when you finally warm up to him more.

Though, if he were in your shoes, waking up and remembering nothing nor knowing who they were is surely not a problem to take lightly, right? It was like taking a baby out of a woman's womb when it was simply not the right time yet.

"Entirely irresponsible. Tch." The female student continued to grouch, tapping her foot impatiently, watching you and Gojo be engrossed in a conversation that only he endeavored because you still appeared to be lost in space, "---He promised to treat us out after the Tree incident because of the effort we put,"

"The effort we put." Megumi emphasized phlegmatically, taking an impassive gander at the woman.

She loudly huffed in return, disbelief filling her emotions as it reached her mouth. His words being taken to heart as if she was offended, "What do you mean by that, Fushiguro?"

"You were knocked out by Mai-senpai."

"---and you were brought out of the scene by Panda in the middle of it all, Fushiguro!" Nobara barked back, snarling in the process of their raillery.

Banters that spread across the place from left to right was considered as a customary for the trio. A habitual disposition between the first year students, following the additional repartees that their Sensei constantly includes every now and then. Megumi, being thoroughly accustomed by her aggressive attitude blinked languidly back at her, "If we were talking about the sweat under one's brow then Itadori, Todo-Senpai, Gojo-Sensei and the others get to be the people praised for the incident,"

"Sensei!" Yuji Itadori began to holler out loud,  waving back a big one as Gojo managed to give them a glance.

"He's been stalling all this time for chit-chat!" Nobara complained for the fifth time under twenty minutes of her time being partially wasted, she could hear Yuji chuckling beside her for no reason why, sending out a beam to the man who was intentionally being late for their treat-out.

She had no reason why but hearing Yuji's guffaws made her temples twitch in which he earned a glare from her.

"Kugisaki, you're being impatient, Gojo-Sensei's busy interrogating the girl who called Fushiguro, a 'Sea Urchin,' "

Megumi was quick off the mark with what Yuji declared. The cheerful, pink haired student blinked back at him that lacked of guile. His features quickly turning into a depiction of irritability from the wrinkles on his forehead.

There was no need for Fushiguro to mutter a word because his antagonizing silence was immediately understood by him.

"I needed to grab my phone back in my room and I happen to overhear some of the conversation?" Yuji tried to lessen his vexation by being honest, constantly scratching his head as he does so.

Megumi's frown deepened, he responded with a disgruntled hum. Yuji's teasing forever being a plague of peeve that he surely won't get over with every once in a while, "I like her then." Nobara took the mickey out of him, simmering his tea-pot a little more than it can ever take.

"Tch."

Fushiguro was left to his own aggravation as they were already used to his outwardly stoic expression and personality. The possessor of the Ten Shadows Technique, an inherited technique passed down in the Zenin Family---stifled his thoughts to himself and chose not to interact to their personalized taunts. He quietly listened to their continuous discussion, hearing Itadori ask Nobara a simpleminded question that was ought to be answered with no graveness considering that he was asking the female first year student.

"What would you think she would name me?" Yuji innocently mumbled, ignorant that Nobara coherently understood the subconscious spout of his tongue.

"Idiot, probably." she impassively mooted single-mindedly.

"Eh?" The possibility of not hearing her clearly passed by Yuji's subconsciousness, till he realized that she was giggling in the background from how he nodded back at her like he completely agreed to what she professed. All of a sudden, he turned downright taken aback, expression entirely flabbergasted, "---EH!"

The Land of the Rising Sun. Japan, the eleventh-most populous country in the world, as well as one of the most densely populated and urbanized.

At the time, it was beyond your capacity to comprehend what was happening around. Biting Gales swept passed your matted hair, the indignity of your once bedridden state came to your consciousness as you stood wonderstruck beside the guy named Gojo Satoru, wishing that everything was just a dream and that you hoped to finally wake up on.

Being in an overwrought state brought such intense humiliation that you were finally on your senses, with each retaliation from the moment you woke up in Megumi's room until you were behaving mad as a March Hare struck your senses that you actually existed and this was a reality that you were bound to believe in.

Perhaps, did you feel humiliated because everyone looked beautiful enough to be considered make-believe dolls and you appeared unprepossessing to their standard of appeal?

You had no idea, but an absolute feeling of mortification was punching you in the guts when Satoru began to pipe up a mocking question, presumably a slap to the face.

"Still don't believe me?" he motioned out onto the unlatched windows where fresh air began tousling your hair in different angles, "---We're in Tokyo Jujutsu High." Gojo retracted his hand away from your head, rather stunned that he would have the audacity to do so. Yet, he did not give you the benefit of seeing that he was somehow a little bit bewildered from his choice of gestures.

"To-kyo-Ju-jutsu-High." you've heard him repeat more with emphasis and with a lesser bit of an accent. He inserted his hands inside his pockets, leaning a lot more on the edges of the casement as you felt him slyly keeping you under his observation.

Despite of his bandaged eyesight, you could technically feel that he was trying to monitor your every move.

Was it making you uncomfortable? Yes. It was. Confining to the point that his mere presence was enough to make you breathless.

"I already graduated college, why am I even here?" was the only question you could muster, focusing on the three, young students right below the building who seemed to be making fun of each other.

Gojo meekly waited for any indication---signals that can tell him that you were capable of using any amount of Jujutsu. Was he anticipating it? he was taking in such pride towards his postulated convictions, expectant to be of liberty over another omission that transpired in the past. Having said that, Satoru did not want another Riko Amanai in the midst of what was happening around the Jujutsu Society today. He was trying to see through you, why you were capable of providing him grounds for whatever was drawn on such pieces of papers. To others, it was probably zilch but he trusted that it conveyed something out of a simple sketch.

Even showing signs of the bare minimum that you could be trained as a sorcerer, the ability to see cursed spirits was thrown out of the window specially that he could not see nor feel any ounce of cursed energy nor born with any innate talent.

None.

This woman who stood beside him, you---you were another substandard being. Weak, to be more frank.

He didn't need to escort another girl who he deemed as a puny human.

From the moment of your intervention alongside the trespassing of those Special Grade Cursed Spirit during the Kyoto-Sister-School-Good Will Event, up to the time you were being on the mend by Shoko, Gojo knew then and there that you were futile. Nevertheless, confiscating fragments of occurrence that involved him, a bestfriend he knew very well and the Jujutsu Society optimized him that you were teleported to their dimension for a cause.

But, for what reason?

You were unaware of how his smile went minimal upon his own dwelling, never knowing what he was thinking nor recognizing or being accustomed to his habits on how he actually lived as a human since this was the first time you met him, "You seem young, probably a few years younger than me." he nonchalantly stated, claiming his guesses like it was the truth and he had no idea that he was right.

"I'm taking an airplane and I'm leaving here to go back to my country," you firmly avowed, stepping back from the unhatched windows with a determined expression on your face, the way you nodded to yourself with clenched fists says that your decision was final.

Gojo couldn't help but laugh at that, his large palm being placed over his chest as he chuckled back.

"Ha! You sure about that?" he snickered, raising a brow underneath his blindfolds. His response made you give him a double take of your surprised glances, suddenly noticing the slight peek of Ivory-tinted brows that slipped from his bandages in which you tried to ignore, thinking that he had it bleached for whatever reason he wanted, "---Any form of transportation requires money, correct?"

Upon hearing his mockery, your clenched fists began to unfurl from the unforeseen apprehension. There was nothing. It didn't go unnoticed by Gojo but he saw you were stealthily trying to be sensible for any wallet or cellphone upon a clothing that Shoko has dressed you in. It was basically just a plain set of jogger pants and a white tee that was certainly unidentified because as much as you remembered, the clothing you wore back before you were moved to Japan were a set of working clothes adored.

You tried to ignore the smirk on his face and looked away, the heat from your toes coming through your veins and growing till the apples of your cheeks and forehead, knowing he got you there when you couldn't feel your own possessions with you, not even your cellphone.

"Are you saying you've been fondling my pockets when I was asleep and saw no wallet?"

He was keeping it. You knew it was with Satoru. Everything felt like you were being held hostage and you wanted to scream out loud for the conflicted emotions you were currently feeling.

"Yes." the elephant in the room crowed for his early conquer, crossing his arms over his chest as he heard you grumble here and there for his interminable confidence and nonchalance.

"This blindfolded creep,"

There was definitely a consuming equanimity flowing in his blood. It was driving you to distraction. The exasperation of his absolute self-confidence with an arresting poise and stature ending up as being the fracas of your heart and mind. Your level of conscience and sensations plucking the strings to your heart turning a discordant of fueled emotions.

"Correction. A handsome, great, blindfolded teacher." Gojo was candid as he declared so.

Your aggravation was short-lived as Satoru stooped down to your level, bending over to your height as if you were face-to-face, taking you aback from the prompt movement and from the lack of juxtaposition he offered which made your breath hitch.

He lifted two of his fingers, the middle and the pointer one. The latter oddly aimed the tips of his hefty fingers in between your forehead, lightly flicking you off which gained him a scowl from your point of view.

"Hey! My head's still throbbing! Are you trying to hurt my head for the second time?"

What was he trying to do? Make your amnesia go bye-bye like was some kind of god?

"Huh?" Satoru audibly muttered out loud, unable to process what just happened.

The fruitless result knocking him sideways as he expected you to go hit the hay with one flick to the forehead. He was definitely caught on the hop. Satoru had to repeat the gesture for the second time around to double-check again which had you backing away, much to his disappointment. The strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer was incredulous over the disenchanting conclusion of it all, he just couldn't believe it.

Maybe, you existed for a certain reason after all.

"Interesting. I can't believe I'm not exempted in this and here I thought..." he went back to his soaring height and shrugged to himself, sticking his hands inside his pockets again before he shrugged to himself.

"Eh, There's no use then." Gojo Satoru began to walk past you. His distinct, odoriferous perfume brushing past, making you feel giddy for some undivulged reason that you couldn't comprehend. "---Come with us for a while, you can plan an escape route along the way,"

He paused, chuckling in the midst of his statement and actually ceased wending one's way across the hallway dorms of Tokyo Jujutsu High, pretending to act like he forgot something essential to say which can actually help you make a break for it. Satoru turned to see you take a dim view of his words, knowing that he was far from giving you the desire to leave.

This man was beyond buoyant that you could even think of leaving.

"That is, if you could run away from us, Jujutsu Sorcerers, Tiny-Chan!"

Chapter 3.1 has now ended. Next chapter has 5k+ words. Hope y'all are excited!

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! I WOULD LOVE IT SO MUCH! THANK YOU! HEEHEE!

[rayofsunas]

baby daddy | kaeya [2]

A/n: so already, in the first five minutes of me beginning to write tumblr decided to delete stuff again, so that’s pretty swag ;-; but nonetheless, I’m alright lmao, I’ve been super happy this week ever since I pulled xiao AND mona after wanting to give up plsss. also, I can’t exactly remember if I gave Klara a age in the last part, so I would just like to clarify that she’s one lol. anyways, here’s part two and I hope you guys enjoy!! it took me four hours to write this

Summary: kaeya wants to set a good example for his children, naturally. so he’s given up a lot of things, one being his excessive drinking. but being a knight is hard, despite how nonchalant he seems and he finds himself slipping sometimes… when you find out about it, you’re less than happy and decide spending time with the children would be a good idea for him. he’s more than happy to spend time with the three little monsters, but, he never realized what a normal day was for you when taking care of them.

Parings: Kaeya/Fem! Reader

Warnings: children, fluff, reader and kaeya are mid 20s, alcohol, Klara and Katheryne are friends because I said so, stan Katheryne she helps us so much-

Word count: 2.3k

The sun was slowly but surely rising, leaving beautiful orange and yellow hues to paint the usually bright blue sky, and Kaeya couldn’t be happier. Unlike the last couple of days, he’d been able to wake up, eat a quiet breakfast with you before the kids woke up though he tried and successfully tried to flirt his way into your already claimed heart, and then when Klara woke up, he got the chance to contently feed the wailing little girl; something he shockingly missed. 

Even if at that moment, the tears and cries were a lot more than he could handle, he was more than happy to do something too trivial, just because he was spending more time with her. And unlike the other days, he’d been able to take her for her morning walk, before he’d have to report to headquarters.

Most citizens were still asleep, though very few could be seen preparing for the days work, a few stall owners he noted, as he held Klara’s tiny chubby hand and helped her walk through the town, though she greatly seemed to like speed, already worlds ahead with her mobility. 

“Slow down, my little Mist Flower.” She was moving as fast as her little legs could take her, straight towards Katheryne who sometimes gave the little girl trinkets, saying adventurers had brought back things they didn’t wish to keep or had no use for. Even if Klara couldn’t really speak, she knew little things, “Thank you” was one of them, so she was always grateful despite not knowing exactly what they were. And although Katheryne seemed to not be human, some sort of machine with a very robot-like tone, she also made sure to let little Klara know how happy she was to give the youngest Alberich little trinkets. 

“Good morning, Katheryne.” Kaeya called, grinning when his daughter’s eyes widened at the mention of the kind receptionist. As the pair approached the young woman, Klara yanked on her father's white cloak, instructing him to lift her into his arms, so she could get a better look, and Katheryne, usually behind the tall wooden counter.

“Oh- good morning, Captain Kaeya!” The woman exclaimed, eyes lighting up when she saw the little girl she adored very much. “And little Klara, good morning.” She was happy to see the pair well, seeing as though she hadn’t seen Klara in days. 

“Hi, Kat...” Klara whispered with a shy smile, Katheryne smiled even more because of the use of the nickname she’d been given.

She was just the most adorable little girl ever, Katheryne couldn’t help but think. 

All three Alberich children were the sweetest, though obviously, Klara had a sweet place in her heart especially. Adrien was an identical copy of you, sarcastic, very stubborn, but very respectable for such a young age. And Elena was a smart cookie, a young girl who enjoyed questioning and correct everyone and everything that she came across. Lastly, little Klara, who had much growing to do was the pride and joy of the large Alberich family. Everyone adored her and she continuously swayed hearts wherever she went, just her cute curiosity alone was enough to bring a smile to even Wagner’s face, who typically seemed grumpy. 

Katheryne felt very lucky to have met them in this lifetime, they were a gift from the Archons, truly. Everyone knew Katheryne as the Adventurer Guild's Receptionist but to Klara? She was Kat, a generous friend who gave her gifts. 

Though a sad frown graced the young woman's lips, Kaeya ever so observantly caught on, something was wrong.

“I’m very saddened to say this, but I’m afraid there aren’t any new trinkets suitable enough for little Klara today...” Yes indeed was the receptionist saddened, evident by every feature on her face. “There’s been a shortage it seems of adventurers and travelers willing to take the commissions.” The brunette stated.

“Why is this?” The Cavalry Captain questioned, silently huffing when the one-year-old attached to his hip kept chewing on his white fur cloak, closest to his neck. Great, another issue added to the mix. Maybe she had begun teething again? Archons, Kaeya really felt as though he’d missed so much, seeing as though he couldn’t remember the last time his youngest daughter had teethed or even if she'd stopped entirely together. In short, he probably hadn’t been there for that either, courtesy of his position and job. 

“From my understanding, there have been more hoards of monsters, and something about a mutation as well,” Noted Katheryne, watching as the curiosity built upon the man's features. “Would you like to take a few of the commissions? To show Acting Grand Master Jean?”

The part bout there being an abundance of monsters did sound familiar, he’d been hearing about that a lot recently, but mutated forms as well? That was new... He’d have to bring that up today at the briefing, maybe Jean would know more than he currently did. 

“None of that will be necessary. I’m heading there now, after I drop Klara off back home, I’ll just forward the information to her personally.” Katheryne nodded, seemingly getting sidetracked and entranced by the bright violet-eyed toddler staring at her, with her father's white fur cloak still in her mouth. 

Adorable. 

She still couldn’t help but feel bad though. The only trinkets that had been brought back from any scarce, but recent missions were partially damaged swords waiting for Wagner to fix or scrap into new materials.

Such a thing did not belong in the hands of a child, nonetheless the ever so gentle Klara Alberich, she was too sweet for this world to be handed a complimentary sword, even if she had heard Kaeya say the countless amount of times that he wanted to eventually teach each of the children how to use a sword, preferring to start earlier, rather than later. And from Katheryne’s overheard? She now knew it had been somewhat of a topic of discussion between you and Kaeya, causing mini spouts of anger and frustration. 

Archons, how she wishes she had something suitable to give the little girl...

Katheryne nervously fidgeted. “Oh and about the trinkets-”

The usual daily gifts Kaetheryne would give to Klara, were absent today. Due to one big factor; adventurers and travelers weren’t taking commissions, therefore, they weren’t bringing back what Katheryne saw as unique finds, but they claimed to have no use for.

“No worries,” He was more worried about the fact that adventurers weren’t taking commissions instead of the usual trinkets Katheryne would give his daughter, nonetheless he offered reassurance. It really was no big deal.

Kaeya indeed was something else entirely, Katheryne concluded. A mind reader, some sort of witch- just different. How had he known without her even saying anything?

She was stunned for quite some time, though still feeling guilty despite his supposed reassurance. The guilt partially stemmed from the fact that Klara was staring so intently at her, with big blue-purple-hued eyes, unknowingly being one of the main stressors of Katheryne’s guilt... 

“Klara has too many nicknacks anyways,” You and Kaeya were sure she’d be some kind of trinket collector when she was older, seeing as though she had so many already. “Y/n says you spoil her.” Kaeya’s statement almost sounded like he was scolding her, but if not for the grin and chuckle he offered that immediately followed, she wouldn’t have known he was being entirely playful. 

“That is not my intention. She’s just so adorable, I cannot stop myself,” Kaeya laughed, glancing down at the toddler. She was adorable, his little Mist Flower.

“If it bother you or Miss Y/n, I’ll-”

“It’s quite alright, Katheryne, no need to worry,” Kaeya announced smoothly, dramatically waving his hand to show he was dismissing her statements of protest and concern.

“Alright...”

Eventually, Kaeya did take his leave, much to Katheryne’s dismay. She’d probably see Klara tomorrow, if he stayed true to his schedule, so she remained hopeful and excited for tomorrow. 

Before he knew it, Kaeya was bringing Klara home, giving you and Elena - who was now awake - hugs and kisses, telling you both to let Adrien know he loved him and that he’d return soon - he was still asleep. And then just like that Kaeya was out the door again and off to headquarters.

-

No one expected him to be at the Cat’s Tail this late at night, but it wasn’t entirely unexpected nor rare by any means, he was a familiar face after all. 

It was unexpected because Kaeya claimed he had given up the incessant and excessive drinking years ago when his firstborn, Adrien graced Teyvat. Sadly, it was expected, because it seemed he’d been in here more in the last week than in the last few years... Though, patrons who often visited the tavern were all betting on the fact that you were entirely clueless to how much he’d been drinking; they were right. You were too busy taking care of the children and training to hopefully join the Knights again, to even keep up with your husband's drinking habits. So, it went unnoticed. 

Diluc though, who was often at the tavern, noticed it unlike you. Kaeya had been a great pretender, a great spy; good at keeping secrets, but when he had secrets, somehow Diluc always found himself finding out first, if not second, closely behind you. And unfortunately - Diluc thought - he was on the more personal spectrum concerning the certain Knight... He was his brother, your brother in law, an uncle... He disliked what Kaeya was doing, greatly. Especially since it felt as though his idiotic brother was going behind his family's back. No, he hadn’t promised to quit entirely, but he’d made it seem that way to you. Probably a fabrication so you wouldn’t worry... 

Diluc should’ve known he'd find himself back here again, trying to get his once again, idiotic brother, to leave and go home. The pyro user couldn’t understand. His brother had everything he didn’t. A beautifully devoted wife, three amazingly easy children, a status many simple Knights and Guards would kill for; Captain. And he’d rather risk it all for a drink or two, maybe three.

You thought nothing of it. Kaeya was out late a lot, more often than not patrol and paperwork held him from returning home, but on the rare occasions that he had a sliver of free time that wasn’t spent with you and the kids, he was drinking. 

You always knew when he wouldn’t be returning, in the form of a letter from Kaeya, stating he was alright but would be staying to do paperwork, etc. It would be brought by one of his underlings, Knights or Guards in training. But when that letter never came, you panicked. 

Was he alright? He never forgot to write... Maybe he was held up?

Thankfully, Lisa had decided to come over for tea earlier and had still been here trying her best to reassure you, after seeing how worried you’d been after not receiving any letter. 

“You should probably return home, I’ll be alright.” You kept reassuring the librarian, though she wasn’t falling for it. She could practically feel the stress and anxiety oozing off of you, it was concerning. 

You could only be thankful Amber had been busy and couldn’t come over for tea or else she would’ve ripped Kaeya a new one when she got ahold of him. He’d never be able to leave for missions again, without getting a reminder from Amber to reach out or else...

“Darling, I’m not leaving until he returns.” She took your hands in hers, hoping to offer you comfort. Lisa had always been there for you, which you were very thankful

She had no prior experience with children, though she was incredible with your own. You figured because she was one of the older members of the Knights of Favonius, she had taken more of a big sister role and the youngers looked up to her wisdom. Though she wasn’t much older than you, only by five or six years, so she was really like an older sister towards you as well. Lisa was a very kind woman, you appreciated her tons.

“Maybe I should go find him? I could ask around...”

“Please don’t stress, Y/n,” Lisa said. “You’re too beautiful to stress. I trust that he’ll be here soon.”

Lisa was in fact right. Kaeya returned soon after she had said he would. Master Diluc knocked on the door close to midnight, hanging off his arm was your drunk husband. When you saw him slumped on his brother's shoulder, you immediately assumed the worst. Maybe he’d been physically harmed. You were under the impression he had stopped drinking. 

But then, when you allowed Diluc to step further into the house, you got a huge waft of what you quickly recognized as alcohol. Surprisingly enough for Diluc, you didn’t yell, instead, you just stared at Kaeya with disappointment, gravitating towards him to try and take him from his brother's arms. 

“Thank you Diluc, I’m sorry you had to deal with this so late.”

The Ragnivndr wanted to scold his brother, for making a fool of himself and you, leaving you worried and disappointed. But, using better judgment, Diluc just nodded and offered an understanding and apology, on behalf of his out of it brother. 

“It’s quite alright, I-”

“I’m sorry he had to come home this way,” Diluc stated, glaring at the taller man.

You hummed, helping Kaeya stumble into your living room, both Lisa and Diluc watching with worried gazes from the door. “Don’t worry, I’m just glad he’s safe.”

Diluc once again, realized his idiotic brother did not deserve you or your kindness and understanding. He was one lucky man, that was for sure.

[🏷] TAGLIST (if you want to be removed from/added to this specific taglist let me know!)

@gladly-olus , @kyquu , @craptainlou , @mintydump , @chscklvr , @irisxiel , @minh0ree​

2.10.21, rayofsunas

[liquid-luck-00]

Creatures and Cryptids

@maribatmarch-2k21 Day 10: Creatures and Cryptids

Hogwarts Au

~~~~~~~~~~

So, this all started when Jon introduced Damian to his cousin, Marinette, on the Hogwarts Express during their first year. She was bubbly and sweet much like her cousin.

So, when the sorting began and she was sorted into Slytherin it shocked them all, Damian Slytherin and Jon Gryffindor.

The three of them were inseparable even if they were in two different houses.

How they got their hands on the Marauders map their first year was a Mystery. (James and Albus lost it to Filtch their seventh year. And they decided to leave it for future troublemakers like their uncles.) But who were they to look a gift horse in the mouth. The three split their time between their three homes during the summer break. Unlocking most of the Map's secrets.

That meant their entire second year was spent exploring the castle and grounds. But without out any disguise any invisibility hindered them.

Which is why in their third year when they learned about Animagus they started planning. Marinette was the best of the three in potions and herbology. So, she created a secret and dark garden in one of the empty dungeons, as to not be touched by humans she left it grow on its own after a year. During that time, Damian the best in transfiguration trained both Mari and Jon on the spell they needed. Thus, making it a routine and habit to not be broken later on. Jon the best of them in Astrology kept the cycles of the moon and the weather.

Jon made sure the two of them grounded and on track with course work and everything else. It all came to a head their fifth year when they decided to actually attempt the spell. They behind that their best chance to catch a storm would be if they started in September, as the fight full moon was close to the middle of the month and it led into the rainy season.

It was during the first Hogesmele weekend that they heard the incoming thunder.

They waved off their friends, saying they didn't want to be caught in the rain. They quickly made their way to the Room of Requirements where the trio had their potion vials stored. Each were holding a box with their names engraved in them, which held their vials. They listened for the rain that sounded outside. The ceiling had the same enchantment as the Great Hall casting a faint light on the room for them. When a streak of lightning crossed the ceiling, the thunder boomed outside. They opened their boxes to reveal their potions turned blood red.

"It's now or nothing." Jon announced raising his vial.

"No turning back now." Mari stated. "Scared?"

"Tt. Never." Damian responded to the tease.

They each took their vial and spoke the incantation are last time.

When they woke after the transformation there was a bit of a surprise. They had figured there was a chance that they would take the form their Patronus did, but they didn’t think it would be true. Jon had morphed into a peregrine falcon. His grey and white feathers almost shone blue in the faint light. Damian and Marinette both morphed into Iberian Lynxes. Both were small wild cats, yes, but Mari was the smaller and lighter of the two. Damian was slightly larger and darker.

All three tons formed back and laughed at what they had accomplished. This was literally a challenge the three set to accomplish for almost two years. And they succeeded in it.

The rest of their fifth year was spent either roaming the grounds and castle to their hearts content and the dreaded OWLS at the end of the year.

As the three were Prefects for their respective house they all had extra liberties which they used to explore further. Thanks to having a base with the Marauders Map the trio were able to locate a hidden corridor that lead to a clearing that was used from time to time for Care of Magical Creatures, leading Damian to adopt a couple of the creatures that lived in the forest.

The three of them made it a habit to sneak out through the dungeon corridor and out to the clearing at least once a week, to others it may have seemed random, but the creatures who visited them in this little clearing knew when they would show. After all it was regular and thanks to Jon, that they could recognize it always. The creatures that would come would range from Hippogriffs and Nifflers to Pegasus and even the occasional Unicorn.

It wasn’t until the middle of their seventh year that their relationship with them became known. One of the hippogriffs, they nicknamed Sky for his light sky-blue color, was crying, and screeching outside the castle. It came to the point that all classes had to be stopped and teachers went out to calm the distressed creature. Manny students rushed outside to see what would happen. Among them would be Damian, Jon, and Marinette, who immediately recognized Sky, how could they not Jon even helped him start to fly the year before.

When finally spotting them Sky dove towards them and they expected it unlike their peers. A quick bow from both parties and the three rushed to the hippogriff.

"What’s wrong boy," Mari cooed as Damian looked him over, it was no surprise that Damian was aiming to work with magical beasts.

"Mar," Jon pointed to Sky’s clenched talons. Who when they noticed dropped it into Jon’s hand, who gave it to Mari.

"This is Unicorn hair, it’s still a foal. Is it hurt?" She asked the hippogriff who nodded and looked over to the forest. They have an idea which unicorn it is because there is only one unicorn foal on their clearing. Only one who is guarded by the creatures they befriended. "Lead the way. "

And lead he did the three of them went off running following Sky, the teachers right behind them. When they arrived at the clearing, they found the Pegasus that adopted the little unicorn on the ground lying next to the injured creature, wing draped over them protectively. A ring of an assortment of magical creatures surrounded them, including a young manticore that stumbled upon their little group a few months ago. The creatures readily let the three of them in but went back on guard with the teachers.

"Let them in they came to help." Jon assured them all, as the other two went to check the unicorn.

"Mari is this." Damian pointed at an angry wound.

"I think so," she turned and went over to the manticore, the teachers tried to stop her, but they moved away when the manticore approached. "Do you mind if I check your tail? Please?" She spoke softly. The manticore obliged and let her handle his tail. "Yup the Manticore’s stinger grew back." She walked back with the manticore on her heels.

"We’ll need something to combat the poison."

Marinette pulled out a box from her bag, producing a small potion set and another covered box within it. She opened the second box and spoke "Accio Bezoar," a stone landed in her hand which she promptly placed in her mortar and began to prep it. "Damian can you prep a sugar water solution in a bottle please." When the bezoar was a powder, she took the bottle from Damian and mixed the powder in and fed it to the unicorn who happily took the sugary treat.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng, Mr. Wayne, and Mr. Kent explain yourselves." Professor McGonagall demanded.

This spot was near the black lake but still deep enough into the forbidden forest for concern. "You see professor a few years ago when we came down to the lake to do our homework, Sky here barreled into us." Not a complete lie as he had barreled into them, but they’d met and many of the others for a long time before that. "We decided to see If he was okay and when we did the others met up with him at of adopted us into their flock." Also, not far from the truth. "From time to time they seek us out when we are on the grounds if there is a creature in trouble, and we help if we can." The three spoke one after another.

"And you three saw nothing wrong with aiding magical creatures and entering the forest." She asked them again.

"Well most of the time was them seeing if we had any treats for them."

"It was only the manticore before this, and that was just to help him heal a split and pulled out stinger.

"You three are saying you aided a manticore, this little manticore heal a split stinger as he grew a new one." The Care of Magical creatures Professor asked.

"Yes," the three answered unsure.

"May I?" the Care of Magical creatures Professor asked.

Damian and Mari sat down, and Damian was speaking to the creature as the professor looked over the stinger.

"This is extraordinary work you can barely tell where the fracture occurred, and this was you’re doing. "

They only nodded unsure of where this was going. "It seems you three are already quite skilled and well liked between these creatures, trusted as well," the three couldn’t help but chuckle at that. "I see no harm in this so long as they don’t enter the forest wouldn’t you agree Professor."

With that they took the Unicorn to a small padlock and astable on the edge of the grounds and took the trio back to the castle. The rest of the two years passed rather uneventfully and they always made sure to visit the clearing regularly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Taglist: @itsmeevie01 @adrestar @miraculouspenta @vixen-uchiha

[mrsgiovanna]

Buon Compleanno (Don Giorno x Fem! Reader)

It's as the name says... This fic is close to my heart and I really enjoyed writing it for our Golden king's birthday. Mostly fluff, it does contain mentions of alcohol consumption though. I hope you all enjoy. ❤️🎊🎉😘🐞💭

P. S. Let the fluff ensue 💐

Word count: 2.5k

“So Mista... Fugo, are things ready on your end? I’ve got confirmation from North Island that everything is ready for us on their end. We have to stagger our arrivals so that Giorno doesn’t actually see you guys there until the party. All our villas are ready for our arrival and his presents are being safe guarded there until we arrive,” you beamed as you secretly went over the final checklist for Giorno’s birthday get away with the team and Trish.

Your friends had ever so thoughtfully come over to see you and Giorno off… well more so to iron out the last details of your master plan, but your boyfriend didn’t need to know that. Attempting to keep your plans for his birthday hidden from him was a near impossible feat. Trying to get him to take some time off and just live for himself was an even bigger task, but being who you are, you managed to plan everything down to the finest detail.

Trying to get the entire island to yourselves and plan the party of a century for your closest allies was a mammoth task, but it was what you felt Giorno deserved. In the years that he’s spent running Passione, he had always placed his own needs secondary to the needs of the organization, which is why you resolved to give him the best experience imaginable for his 21st birthday.

“Hi Giorno! We were just talking about you,” piped up Trish in a voice loud enough to alert everyone to the young don’s looming presence. Eyes widening for a split second, you manage to compose yourself without him catching on and flashed him a pleasant smile. You were taken aback by how handsome he looked dressed down in an azure linen Armani suit, hair braided loosely and cascading down his shoulder. He took his place at your side, casually circling his arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Morning everyone, what’s this about me?”

“Oh, we’re just discussing what we’re going to be doing when you’re away… you know, cats and mice and the like,” joked Fugo, earning him a worried look from Giorno.

“Gosh, relax my love… come on, we have to go, it’s a pretty long flight,”

“Alright, alright, let’s go bella. Well, I’ll see you all in a few days’ time,” leaving to the collective goodbye wishes of your friends you set off to catch the private jet which would take you to the little piece of heaven in the Seychelles.

Upon landing at the airport, you were just one short helicopter flight away from your destination. Giorno’s demeanor was akin to that of a child on Christmas eve, taking in his beautiful surroundings on the helicopter. Stepping onto the helipad, you were greeted by the wonderful fresh scents of the salty sea air, clear blue seas and white sandy beaches for as far as the eye could see. After the welcome, you were lead to the main villa, given your golf cart and allowed yourselves to get settled in for the rest of the night, choosing to spend a quiet night lounging on the balcony overlooking the ocean.

Giorno couldn’t help but stare at your beautiful form. The way the moonlight bounced off the ocean behind you and illuminated your skin mesmerized him. He had known you ever since he had taken over Passione. You served as a valuable ally when it came to weeding out the members who were still unwilling to adopt his ideals. As the years marched on, he started seeking out your company more and more, until it became apparent that he was at his happiest when he was around you… and once the realization had dawned on him, he wasted no time in making you his. You fell hard, and fast, and it was so easy fall into step with each other’s lives, as if you had been created just for each other.

“Bella, this is incredible, I know I put up a bit of a fight but I’m so glad you did this…” he uttered with a dreamy look on his face.

“I’m glad you think so my love, you’re going to love the day I have planned for us tomorrow… Ah! Actually, later on today," you say, glancing at your watch, "it’s just past midnight! Happy birthday my love! I hope you know how much I love you, and I’m incredibly proud of you and all you have managed to accomplish at such a young age… you’re… you’re pretty amazing you know,” the emotions swirled around in Giorno’s eyes while listening to your heartfelt speech.

“(y/n) … I… you’re… I just love you so much tesoro, you’re everything I could ever want,”

“I love you too Gio… come on, it’s late, let’s get some rest,” you say while leading him to bed.

You rose early, just as the sun made its glorious appearance over the ocean. As early as you had woken up though, Giorno was already awake, nursing a cup of coffee as he stared pensively at the brilliant blue water.

“Good morning handsome, penny for your thoughts?” you greeted your lover, wrapping your arms lovingly around his shoulders and nuzzling into his soft hair.

“Good morning principessa… I’m just thinking about how much I love you…”

“Oh? Is that so, Mr. Giovanna? Well prepare to love me even more, go get ready, we have lots to do today,” you say, a lovely light, lilt coloring your voice.

“Any hints?”

“Wear something comfortable, something that we can walk around in,”

With that, your day had started with a guided hike through the island. Between Giorno’s life-imbuing ability and your affinity for adventure, you were both mesmerized by the flora and fauna you encountered on the hike. Once that was over you looked forward to coming back to a special couple’s massage which eased your sore muscles and relaxed you both into a dreamlike state. Finally, after your last treatments, you could get ready for your “dinner” at the piazza. Feeling a sense of pride as you put on the last of your accessories, you smiled at your reflection in the mirror while inspecting your stunning outfit, and grew even happier when you saw Giorno walking out in a casual charcoal grey Dior suit which matched your dress, but not his expression unfortunately.

“What’s the matter my love? You look great by the way…”

“Thank you tesoro… you’re quite the vision yourself,” standing behind you, sharing the mirror, he raked his fingers through his uncooperative hair, sighing in annoyance.

“Gio, stop- here, sit down, I’ll help you,” you say as you gently brush out the tangles and scrunch the wave back into his lovely golden hair. You carefully braid the length of his mane but leave his signature triad of ringlets out, admiring how beautifully the shorter sections of his hair framed his face.

“There…” you leaned back to admire your efforts, acknowledging the fact that you had a particularly exquisite model as well.

“Are you sure this is fine my love?” there was a hint of doubt in Giorno’s voice, but you made sure to banish any such thoughts.

“Of course, I love your hair like this,”

“Well, that’s good enough for me. Shall we leave my princess?”

“Yes… but can I drive the golf cart?” you ask, extending your arm to him, gesturing for the keys.

Speeding past the rest of the villas, you just wanted to make sure that everyone was already at the piazza ready to surprise the young don.

“Are you sure we’re at the right place my love? Or should we be at a different entrance, this looks like it’s closed,”

“Yes caro, come on, I’m sure the staff are inside… I’ve picked up on your habit of wanting to dine in solitude,” you explain as you walk towards the entrance hand in hand. Stepping into the restaurant, the lights dipped and instantly got brighter revealing your closest friends jumping out of their hiding spots with a collective, rambunctious yell of “surprise”, startling your unsuspecting boyfriend.

“Happy birthday my love,” you softly say once again, as the lively music started to play in the background.

“You… did all of this? For me?”

“Of course bello mio, well, I did have help though” you gestured behind Giorno, pointing out Mista, Trish and Fugo walking towards you both.

“Oi, happy birthday Giogio, haha, you look like you need a drink, I’ll be right back,” said Fugo as he went to order the first round of drinks for your little group. Between flitting amongst your guests, dancing with your handsome beau, and stealing moments away to be alone him, you almost forgot to give him his gifts, which were safely stored in the wine cellar of the establishment.

“Well, what do you think my love?” Giorno’s eyes widened when he saw the glass-encased, white Fender Stratocaster signed by just about every rock star, most importantly, his favorite guitarist, Jeff Beck.

“I’ve been looking for this for the longest time… how did you find it tesoro?”

“I also know some people… that’s not all, look next to it…” you motioned towards 5 Morocco solander boxes that housed a rare first edition of the complete 10 volumes of Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables.

“I thought that might look quite beautiful in your study… adding something especially meaningful to your collection,”

“I’m speechless (y/n) … you’ve gone to such great lengths…” you hush him with a passionate kiss preventing him from gushing about your efforts as you were determined to make this night about him.

“I’m sure we’ve been gone for too long, lets rejoin our guests my love,” you started to walk towards the staircase exiting the wine cellar, but you were pulled back against Giorno’s broad chest, grasping your face in his hand, he kissed you with so much fervor this time, leaving you flustered and battling to calm your racing heart. Noticing the effect, he managed to have on you, he gently coaxed you back upstairs with a wicked smirk.

“Hey, you’re back, we’ve been looking all over for you two. We have one more person who wants to say hello,” with a soft smile, Trish reaches behind her to pull out coco jumbo, which meant only one thing…

“Signore Polnareff! Even you…”

“You know I’ve always had a soft spot for pretty girls Giorno… Joyeux anniversaire! You’re a brave young man with a good head on your shoulders and integrity in your heart, always hold on to that,”

“Thank you signore Polnareff, it means a lot coming from you, considering…” cutting him off before Giorno could complete his sentence, Polnareff attempted to lighten the mood.

“Non non non, no sad thoughts tonight, get this man a drink someone, you’re all slacking here,” he said looking at you as you mouthed a small thank you in his direction.

“(y/n), you’ve really outdone yourself. Giogio, you’re a lucky man,” said Mista as he brought a special bottle of champagne for you all to raise a toast with. “Alright, while we’re all here in the same place, I just want to say that you’re all important to me…”

“Mista’s drunk guys, prepare yourselves,” Trish says with an eye roll resulting in hushed giggles as the gunslinger tried to (unsuccessfully) arrange his sentimental thoughts.

Unable to stand it any longer, Trish takes over and pays homage to Giorno, as well as the special people who had given everything in order for them to live, enabling them to carry on their will.

As the party raged on, you took a small break in a dim corner of the piazza, and took a moment to marvel at the fruits of your labor. Everybody was having the best time, including Giorno. After being called away by one of his associates, it filled your heart with fluttery sensations watching the man you loved finally able to act his age for once.

“May I sit with you, carina?” startled out of your musings, you find an old friend standing over you.

“Lorenzo, of course, please, have a seat,” you offer emphatically.

“So, how is one half of Passione’s power couple doing?” his question earning a loud giggle from you. You continued to make conversation with Lorenzo, until Trish came to inform you that one of the service providers needed to confirm a few details with you, so you politely excused yourself and followed Trish. You were confused as she lead you to a secluded part of the beach, where you find Giorno standing alone, staring broodingly at the ocean for the second time that day. You realized that she just made an excuse draw you away to check on Giorno, being slightly concerned yourself after seeing the expression on his face.

“Gio? My love, what’s the matter? Did you just need some fresh air?” he turned to faced you with the softest smile.

“You know bella, I’ve loved you so deeply for years now… you always know what I need… even before I do. I never really feel complete anymore unless you’re with me… which is strange because I’ve always been content on my own. And then it hit me, you will always hold a part of me, and I’ll always seek you out because of it… You’ve given me probably the best experience of my life tonight, but, there’s just one more thing I would like from you to make the day perfect…” you felt light-headed when you saw Giorno moving to kneel down on one knee, pulling out a little trinket box, opening it to reveal the most beautiful ring.

“(y/n), would you give me the greatest gift and agree to spend the rest of your life with me as my wife?”

Emotions tugged at your pretty features, as you whispered a breathy affirmation, while nodding excitedly. Exhaling sharply with a stunning smile, Giorno got back to his feet and placed the elegant ring on your finger, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss thereafter. You threw your arms around his neck, and held him tightly, before the realization dawned on you.

“Wait! How long have you been planning this, Gio? Your question was met with his soft, exasperated laugh.

“Oh! For the longest time amore, I’ll admit though, your plans had forced me to adapt my own, but I had some help in achieving all of this… Trish is a lifesaver,” explained your new fiancé with a hint of pride in his voice.

“I love you Gio, but you managed to hijack your own celebration… I don’t know what to do with you!” the mock exasperation dripping from your voice drew a small laugh from Giorno.

“That’s your problem now tesoro, you already agreed to marry me, no take backs,” with that, you both decide to return to the festivities. Intertwining your fingers with his as you slowly walked back, you both stole loving glances at each other, communicating your intense affections for each other through your eyes alone… perhaps it was as he said, you mused… that a part of your soul resided with him also, and so you always sought him out to feel complete too, just as he did with you.

[imaginesupply]

You have my permission - Tom Hiddleston smut (sub!Tom)

Summary : Tom throws a tantrum and his mistress gives him more than he bargained for. 

Warnings: Sub!Tom, switch!Tom, oral (f receiving), PIV, body fluids and aftercare. 

Words: 4.4k 

Smut after the cut. 

She strolled inside the bedroom behind Tom, her fingers dexterously removing the heavy earrings that were weighing down her earlobes painfully. Setting them down on the dresser with a relieved sigh, she turned to Tom whose back to her as he crouched down and took off his shoes. What a nice ass, she mused with a grin.

"A bath or a movie, which do you fancy?" She asked, offering him the choice. Tom had seemed off at dinner, not his usual cheerful self and she was concerned. Yet, truth be told, she was tired and though a bath was relaxing perspective, she doubted she'd have the energy to leave the tub once the water lost its warmth, but those were two activities she knew Tom enjoyed particularly and she wanted to treat her good boy to a pleasant evening.

"I don't care."

She stopped in her tracks even as she opened the drawer for a fresh nightdress, a frown taking over her face. "What was that?"

"I don't care." Tom repeated more forcefully.

She had heard him right the first time, then. Hiding her surprise well, she cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'll remind you, darling, that's not how you speak to me."

Tom was barefoot now but standing up to his full height by the bed, an expression on his face that she wasn't acquainted with. "Or what?" He sneered with sarcasm, so far from the sweet boy she knew.

With an eye roll, she dropped the night dress on the bed. Tom had already broken so many rules within the past minute, but she was feeling clement. After all, unlike him, she had enjoyed herself immensely at dinner.

"What is it, Thomas? Why are you being so fussy tonight?" She sighed with resignation. As much as his attitude was grating on her nerves, she needed to know that he was alright. "Come on, sit down," she ordered gently, patting the mattress next to her.

"No!"

"No?" She was giving him one last chance.

To her surprise, Tom groaned, his hands tightening into fists for a moment before loosening again. "No, I will not sit down just because you told me to, not after..."

Her patience with him was thinning down to a hair width. This was not how she had envisioned their evening, but she would spend the night punishing him if she had to.

"Either you tell me exactly what's going on, Thomas, or you'll spend the next couple of days with a painful bottom," she promised, crossing her arms over her chest and just barely resisting tapping her foot on the floor.

His face changed at once. Tom knew those weren't idle threats. He winced, remembering the last time she had uttered those words. Still, he couldn't shake off the fury that gnawed at him from the inside.

"I did not like our waiter tonight, nor the way you behaved with him." Tom finally confessed though his voice remained petulant.

She was unable to hold back a scoff. Was her good boy acting out because he was jealous? "Really? I thought he was very efficient, and I treated him the same respect I do all other people."

Tom's eyes widened at her statement and suddenly all she could see was their light, vibrant blue.  “He spent the entire evening with his eyes glued onto your cleavage! He touched your hand when he filled your glass! And you didn't even say anything, you just let him do it!" He spat accusatorily.

A tantrum, then, she concluded, leaning back against the wall with an amused smirk as she sized him up. Thomas has misbehaved in the past - some small misdemeanours here or there that had warranted a proportionate disciplinary response from her - but this was on an entirely different level. For some reason, punishment didn't seem like the appropriate response this time around.

"Very well, Tom. You've made your case and I’ve listened." She saw it in his eyes, relief washing over the sizzling emotion that she now recognised as jealousy. "What is your solution?"

Tom didn't manage to hide his reaction at her words. He felt put on the spot, her taunting stare intimidating him more than any handcuffs or collar ever could, and without the comfort that came with them. The usually eloquent man stuttered. "I don't know, mistress," he admitted, all sudden burst of courage gone but the look on her face let him know she wasn’t satisfied with the answer. "I just need to know you're as much mine as I'm yours, mistress."

He was back to being her good boy, it appeared, puppy eyes begging to be forgiven for his previous outburst. She licked her lower lip, anticipating the fun that was to come, before nodding as she tilted her head. This was a great occasion for a lesson, she decided. "Let me be yours, then. You have my permission."

Tom blinked once, then twice. Stunned didn’t begin to cover it. Was she really...? No, it couldn't be. "I'm quite not sure I understand, mistress."

She cocked her brow at his reaction. Oh, this was going to be so much better than a movie or a soak. Lightly waving her hand at herself, she made it crystal clear to him.

"I'm yours tonight, to do as you please." Thomas gulped at her offer - no - her command, feeling his Adam's apple tightening just like his trousers. "Claim me, mark me, ravish me. Whatever you want - I can take it.” She paused, letting the words sink in. “Isn't that what you wanted, darling?" She goaded him.

Tom was taken aback, so much so, he didn’t know what to say, let alone what to do. He’d never been in this position before. With other women, sure. But her? His mistress? His only mistress? He wouldn’t lie and pretend the thought had never crossed his mind, but it was never more than some delirious fantasies that taunted him when she kept him teetering on the edge for hours on end and his sanity became scarce. Tom tried to recall what he did to all the women before her, how he had his way with them before… before his mistress helped him discover who he was and what he truly needed.

He gazed upon her again, taking in the way she was waiting for him to do something, head cocked expectantly, exposing the slender column of her neck, the upward tilt op her lip never quite turning into a smirk yet not straying far from it. She was taunting him, testing him. Tom that even if he seized control now, it would be at her demand. No matter what he did, she’d still have the upper hand. She was not giving herself to him the way he gave herself to her. No, she was simply humouring him like a pet. And it made him want nothing more than to make her choke on her words.

I can take it, she’d said. He would be the judge of that, he vowed.

With two long strides, he crossed the room, stopping only he had crowded her against the navy wall. Even with the black high heels she fancied, Tom towered over her. His fingers went to her chin, tilting her face upwards and forcing her to look into his eyes before he leant down and kissed her ferociously. He let his tongue invade her mouth, the back of her head hitting the wall behind her as their teeth clicked together. And then he hesitated, a small pause in his moves as if he waited once again for her permission. Instead, she smiled against his lips, encouraging him silently and then gasped in mouth under the reprised assault, surprising both of them with the sweet sound.

Tom broke off the kiss, tracing his lips along her jawline before settling on the soft spot beneath her earlobe. She flinched against him when he started sucking on her skin, stopping only to alternate with nibbles. To his surprise, she didn’t protest. In lieu of that, she was oddly compliant under his touch even as the guilty feeling that he was doing something naughty and forbidden invaded him. Would she punish him later? Shaking off these thoughts, he thrust up his hips, pressing the outline of his throbbing erection against her lower stomach. Her shaky, shallow breaths were driving him mad.

He had perhaps expected that she would rock her hips against him, rub herself on him like a cat in heat. Tom should have known better than to predict her reactions. She slid her hand between their bodies, cupping his balls and the base of his erection, adding yet another layer between his cock and the sweet cunt he so desired. His lips went slack against her neck. She knew just how much pressure to apply, knew what drove him wild better than he himself did. After all, she was his mistress. She also knew he hadn’t been granted permission to cum for the past three days.

His hand fisted her hair tightly, pulling on it and giving her no choice but to look up at him. She was beautiful like this; he had never seen her from this angle. Like a black rose, it was beautiful to look at, but unnatural. She then had the audacity to grin, her hand never stopping its languid caress, not even when he tilted her head so back far, she was looking up at the ceiling. The position exposed all her elegant neck to him. Tom could spot the frantic pulsing of her artery just next to the hickey he had sucked onto her skin. He should cover her in hickeys, he decided; her neck, of course, but also her collarbones, her breasts, the dips on her hips and the skin on her inner thighs that was softer than velvet and silk combined.

An opportunist, she had used his short distraction to loosen up his belt just enough to slither her small hand inside his trousers and boxers. He gasped at her touch, warm breath puffing against her skin before he seized her wandering hand without a warning, pinning it on the wall above her head.

Tom glared down at her, nostrils flared and eyes dark; a silent warning. She wasn’t used to submitting, he wasn’t even sure she had done it before. He half expected her to call out their safe word, to say ‘opium’ and have him stop it all. He halted, giving her the chance do so, even as he desired nothing more than to throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress. He had the strength for it, he could overpower her easily anytime, but his limbs didn’t obey. It felt forbidden, even with her permission.

She chuckled devilishly as if his grip on her hair didn’t cause her any pain even when she did so. “That’s it, big boy? Where did all that fury of yours go?” She was egging him on again. And for a moment, he was able to picture it in his mind. The large, burning imprint of his hand on her ass, the smudged mascara underneath her eyes as he made her choke on his cock. “Cat got your tongue and your brain?”

That did it. “Shut up,” Tom ordered at the same time as he pulled her off the wall, steering her to the bed with his grip on her head before forcefully throwing her down on the mattress face first. Spotting the zipper running along the back of elegant silk dress, he gave the garment a chance but ended up ripping it open at the seams when it got stuck. His patience was running out. “Scoot over. I want you right in the centre.”

She did as he asked without a single word. Moving to the middle of the mattress, she left behind her torn dress and lied down on her back, showing off her lingerie. It was black and lacy, and intricate. He wanted to destroy it the same way you felt driven to pluck the prettiest flower. She propped herself up on her elbows, spreading her legs and showing him her pretty little cunt through the crotchless panties as Tom took his time taking off his clothes at the end of the bed.

“You’re such a wanton vixen,” he told her. His fear that he was perhaps taking it too far was stilled when he watched her fingers graze over her clit. “Don’t touch what’s mine.” She obeyed, though she sported a Cheshire cat grin. It would be gone soon.

Tom crawled his way over her body, his broader shoulders caging her in, a growl escaping his throat as his pulsing cock slid along the warm skin of her thigh, leaving behind a trail of precum. He brought his face to hers and she parted her lips, expecting a kiss. He bit down on her neck instead, not strongly enough to draw blood but enough for it to sting. And sting it did, her back arching up like a tense bow.

Freeing one hand, he opened the front of her bra with no struggle. The lace fell apart, revealing her ample breasts to his eyes. Tom inhaled sharply at the sight of her pebbled nipples before sliding lower and seizing one between his teeth, nibbling on the sensitive nub mercilessly. Her lips canted up against his as she moaned, head thrown back against the pillow. She was enjoying it, her hand clutching his curls firmly, but not pulling him off. In fact, he decided, she was enjoying this way too much.

Tom let go of her breast, grinning at the offended look she shot him. She wasn’t used to being denied her pleasure. A bit hypocritical, he sniggered. He was determined to make her regret all those times she had tied him to the headboard, the hours she had spent teasing him, edging him, leaving him wanting, the bloody cock cage she had made him wear for a week after disobeying her. “As much as I love your pretty face, I have other plans for you tonight.” He groaned, and then without giving her time for the words to sink in, he spun her around on her belly.

She tried raising herself up on her elbows, but Tom didn’t let her, applying enough pressure between her shoulder blades to get the message across. Still, somehow, she managed to turn her head sideways, mouth parted as she struggled for air. “You’ll pay for this, darling,” she promised all too confidently but didn’t utter the safe word. He spanked her ass.

“Let us first see if you’re still able to do anything after this,” Tom teased as he forced his knees between her legs, prying them open and putting her tempting cunt on display. She smelled ripe.

Holding himself up on one hand next to her head, he moved to cover her body with his, casting a shadow all around her frame. With his free hand, Tom gripped his cock. He was still hard. Not that it was a surprise: when was he ever not hard in her presence?

Tom stroked his iron shaft twice before moving his long fingers to her core. Her probed at her warm, delicate folds. She was wet, though not soaked the way she only got after he’d spent ages worshipping her pussy. He guided himself to her entrance, making her feel his glans pressing against her opening.

This would hurt sweetly without more foreplay – she was a small, little thing and him the opposite. And yet, she didn’t even flinch, her eyes didn’t waver, quite the contrary. She was daring him to do it, looking back at him over her shoulder with curled lips. Tom had never been allowed inside her without her explicit permission – often after pitiful begging on his part. Gauging her reaction, he pointed his cock at her tiny puckered hole instead. Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply, preparing herself for the painful intrusion. Still no safe word. She was tough to crack, Tom realised, not unimpressed before aligning himself with her pussy again. He didn’t dare take her last virgin hole with no preparation, desecrate his mistress like that.

His arm shook as he held up his weight. One thrust, that’s all it would take. He’d fuck her the way he had imagined himself doing countless times before, when his love for her blurred at the border between hatred and love, enmity and devotion, when she deemed his begging not sincere enough or made him plead even for an orgasm by his own hand like a dutiful puppet.

He wanted nothing more than to have his cock engulfed by her warmth. His cock begged him for it. She was waiting for him to thrust in, propping up her ass invitingly, the slope of her back acute. She was beautiful, face up or face down. She was everything Tom had ever desired in a woman. And yet, to him, she looked wrong in this position. He groaned in frustration, sweaty curls clinging to his forehead as his arm kept shaking. This was not how she was meant to be taken, to be pleasured. Just like you wouldn’t drink champagne from a dirty, plastic goblet, Tom couldn’t bring himself to fuck her like this, like an animal.

Letting out the most frustrated of growls, he seized her shoulder, turning her around without a warning before letting himself fall down on the mattress next to her. “I can’t do it,” he confessed, voice cracking.

Tom saw in the way her lips suddenly smirked and her eyes twinkled, finally understanding why she had never seemed apprehensive. His mistress had known all along he wouldn't be able to go through with it, even if he himself thought he could. She had called him on his bluff and won.

"Of course, you could not do it, darling," she cooed, sitting up next to him. "Do you want to know why?" Her fingers traced the line of his jaw almost condescendingly.

Tom swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing as he stared up at her. His previous boldness had left without leaving a trace. "Please, mistress."

She smiled again even as she slid a leg over his chest, enclosing him between the warmth of her thighs. And then, leaning down, she whispered into his ear as if sharing a great secret. "Because, my sweet boy, it’s not in your nature to take by force. You want to please me and earn what I give to you.” She murmured seductively. “Am I wrong?"

Tom shook his head almost at once, the need to please her surging in him at her words. She was never wrong, not when it came to him. And when she moved up to sit on his face, all he could do was mouth a breathless thank you for being allowed to touch her even after his misbehaving before his need to be her good boy drove him to her cunt.

She kept one hand wrapped tightly in his curls, the other one holding onto to the headboard to keep steady. Her sweet Tom was indeed very talented with his tongue, she barely had to guide him at all but that still didn't mean she'd let go of her tight grip anytime soon. "Such a good boy," she praised him, more breathless than she liked to admit. "Licking your mistress's cunt so well." Tom whimpered against her clit; praise always got him needy and she enjoyed his desperate sounds almost as much as she did his tongue.

Close to orgasm, she decided to reward him for his eager work. Her hand left the headboard, searching for his to place it on her breast. She moved her eyes, finding that his hand was no longer clutching the bed sheets in desperate need like it had been seconds ago.

Craning her neck backwards to look over shoulders even as the first pleasures started sparkling and erupting from her clit, she spotted his hand snaking along his side to his weeping cock which had already formed a small, sticky puddle on his navel.

She managed to seize his disobedient hand just before she came, twisting and squeezing it painfully in her fist even as she rocked against his face through the waves of her orgasm, with no regard to his breathing.

With one last deep breath even as Tom still lapped at her juices, she moved away from his mouth and went to straddle his chest, covering him in her slick. He was panting, eyes closed with a furrow between his brows even as she felt him thrust up his hips into thin air, seeking an inexistent friction. What a sweet, needy boy, too bad he couldn't control himself.

Before she could even say anything, Tom apologised the moment his eyes blinked open. "I'm sorry, mistress," he exhaled.

She rubbed his bruising knuckles with her thumb, etching a look of concern on her face and she saw the way his expression visibly relax at her soft smile. God, she loved toying with him, especially when he misbehaved. "You'll make up for your disobedience with your big cock, won't you, darling?" She cooed.

The thought of finally sinking his cock inside had him nodding eagerly at her, sweaty curls bouncing like a halo around his angelic face. "Yes, mistress. Anything you want."

Oh, she wanted this alright, she mused as she reached out her hand to gently cup his cheek, a smile ghosting on her lips. She scooted over, moving backwards to straddle his hips. His cock was the prettiest shade of pink and the hardest kind of iron.

With a finger she lightly traced the vein running along the underside of his shaft, noticing how he moaned even as he fought the urge to rock up against her touch. It was adorable, the way he was trying to be good now that she’d chastised him. She decided not to tell him it was too late for any of that now.

Instead, she slid her wet cunt along his shaft, the frown of desperate concentration on his eyes more than making up for the slight discomfort on her sensitive folds. How long since she had last let him cum, she wondered, knowing this was going to be torture for him. The loud gasp that escaped his throat when she wrapped her hand firmly around the base of his cock only served as further proof.

Tom's eyes were bright and wide, unable to focus on a particular image as his mistress lowered herself on his desperate cock; the sight of himself disappearing inside her tight channel, the bouncing of her breasts as she moved languorously and languidly, or perhaps, those five seconds of deep intake of air during which her eyes closed and her face lost that regal composure of hers before she got used to the stretch.

"How does that feel, darling?" She asked him with the smile of someone who already knew the answer, in rhythm with her riding of him. She never moved with short, clear-cut thrusts, her hips smoothly undulating instead in a way that had him helpless and feeling the tightening in his gut surging way too soon.

"Very good, mistress," he managed to reply though it came out strangled, his muscles have begun tensing and his fingers itching to touch his mistress. Tom knew better this time.

She seemed satisfied with his response, picking up a faster pace above him. Watching Tom's face contort with bliss brought her just as much pleasure as the rutting of his cock. Tendons straining against his throat, eyes tightly shut and anguished whimpers escaping his parted lips. She anticipated his pleas the moment Tom opened his eyes like a wild animal blinded by the lights. "I need to cum. Please, mistress," he begged, knuckles turning white around the crumpled bedsheets. "Please let me cum."

Her hand moved to his throat, finger pads digging softly into his skin for balance. He loved her hand there, it was a reassurance and a threat all at once and he keened under her touch. She shook her head softly. "No."

The single word startled him as much as her increased pace. He was too close, he wouldn't be able to- "Please, mistress," Tom whined and blabbered, tears welling at the corners of his eyes before running down his sharp cheeks as he fought his release until his muscles trembled.

Still, she took no mercy, shushing him with a finger on his lips. As her orgasm crept closer at a dizzying pace, the look of focus and torment on his sweet, angelic face became almost too much to bear. He was trying so hard to be her good boy, it was beyond adorable.

So, when she tightened around him like a vice as bliss took over her mind and Tom let out the loudest strangled moan, she knew he was bound to fail her command no matter his determination and finally took pity on his anguish. "Cum for me, darling."

Tom tried to thank her for the privilege of filling her with his cum but his control burst at her permission before he was able to say anything intelligible. Instead, he cried out as he came in her, spurt after spurt.

Still coming down from her own high, she climbed off of Tom and then sat down next to him, moving his head to rest on her thigh. She decided to reserve his punishment for tomorrow, noticing his need for aftercare. She'd learned to expect his vulnerability after an orgasm, his longing to be held tightly and true enough, he moved to his side and hugged her waist. "You're okay, darling?" She asked, or rather, cooed.

Tom nuzzled into her thigh, a soft smile on his thin lips. "Yes, mistress, thank you," he mumbled against her skin and then she heard the slight shift in his voice. "I am sorry, for earlier..."

She smiled down at him, brushing his sweaty curls off of his forehead. "I know, sweetie."

It was a struggle then to get him out of bed and into the bathroom, with him holding on to her for dear life. But a small order from her and Tom complied, following her into the shower where she had him kneeling on the floor before her with his face pressed to her sternum as she washed his hair. Her sweet boy wouldn’t like what tomorrow held for him.

[pearl-blue-musings]

Grow As We Go pt 16

Written portion first before texts!

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x fem!reader

Warnings: cursing, finally getting out feelings

The pounding of your heart beat blocks out the sound of the pinging elevator as it rises higher and higher to your destination. Once the vehicle stops and the door opens, your anxiety over the whole situation starts to sink in. Was this the right thing to do? Is the card and gift you got him enough to make him happy? What if he doesn’t love you anymore? What if he doesn’t love you anymore because of what’s happened?

Your feet take you toward the place you’d been to many times before but not as of late. The sounds of laughter mixed with music come from behind his door, making this all too real. You were really about to show up to his birthday gathering after saying no and avoiding him for over a week, huh? Your hand goes to your stomach subconsciously and your thumb runs a comforting circle on it. The emptiness you’ve been feeling had always been attributed to physicality, however you’re questioning that. This was a feeling you’re too familiar with, something you haven’t wanted to admit to. Your mind goes through the times you’ve felt this: when Shinsou hung out with you less when you dated Monoma, when you left for his sake, when he stopped talking to you for a couple of weeks, the last week…

You missed him so much, to the point your body was communicating to you in ways your brain couldn’t comprehend. Despite being more hollow, the thought of seeing him and your friends again make the butterflies inside you go crazy. You feel your body heat slowly increase as your palms get sweaty from standing in front of his door. You take a deep breath and take out your phone to text Jirou and let her know you’re here. You wait a few minutes for her to respond, but as you’re about to knock on the door it swings open, almost hitting you.

“Shit sorry! Wait, (Y/n?)”

Your eyes widen when you see it was Kaminari who had swung the door open, and now all eyes inside are on you. It’s not until joy filled indigo eyes finally meet yours that you notice his smile falter. You want to leave but you’ve already made it this far. You meekly wave at him and try to avoid Shoto’s intense gaze on you.

“May I come in?”

Shinsou wasn’t sure what to feel as he finally catches your eye. Hell, he had been trying to do that for the last couple of weeks. Part of him is ecstatic to finally see you after all this time, another part of him is angry that you are finally seeing him, while the other parts of him are confused and hurt. He peeks down to your hands and notices a card and gift for him. Judging by the size he can already tell what it is you got him, based on a conversation the two of you had in the fall. He does also notice the fidgeting of your fingers as your eyes travel all around the room.

His voice comes out rougher than intended as he responds, “Uh, yeah. Come in.”

You nod hesitantly and step in before taking off your shoes. You’re greeted by a hug from Kirishima and Shoto sends you a comfortable wave. Jirou and Kaminari have resumed arguing over the music while Shinsou debates on what to say to you. You unwrap yourself from the bear hug and make your way toward the brainwashing hero, a little braver than before.

“I got you something. Well obviously cause it’s your birthday, but I also got something for your cat, too.”

Shinsou hums deeply and takes you to his room in order to talk more privately as the celebration continues.

The smell of his cologne is the first thing you sense upon entering his room, followed by the sound of his cat purring against you and the muffled sounds of the party. You proceed to sit on his bed and Shinsou follows suit, although a bit always from you.

“I need to explain myself-“

“I didn’t think you would show-“

You both stop after realizing you spoke at the same time. You giggle nervously and he places his hand on his neck and looks away from you. “N-no,” he starts. “You first.”

You swallow the invisible lump in your throat as you hand him the bag. “I remember us talking about this so it’s something I bought a while ago…” You trail off and wait for him to open the gift. You try to hide the excited smile you have as you see happiness and awe in purple irises. His Adam’s apple throbs, a knowing sign you’ve left him speechless.

“How did you…?”

“Get three squishmallows of Autumn? I have connections.”

His eyebrow quirks up as he sees only two in the bag and turns back to you. Your palm is in his face as his confusion falls away. “I have one at home. The other two are a human sized one for you and a little buddy for your cat. I had gotten these months ago and was just waiting for—“

You’re interrupted when strong arms pull you in close for a warm and knowing hug. You hug him back and just for a second life seems alright. “Do you wanna know why I wanted this one so bad?” He unwraps himself from you, placing his forehead against yours for an intimate scene. “It’s because it reminded me of you.”

His hands comfortably hold yours as his thumb rubs against the backside of them. A warmth fills you as you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The both of you sit there for a couple seconds just enjoying each other until you become brave.

“Hitoshi, I’m scared.”

“Me too, kitty cat.”

“I, I don’t wanna hurt you again.”

“And you won’t.” He briefly pauses to interlock your fingers together. “If you feel right now what I’m feeling, then we won’t. I can promise you that.”

You sniffle before you feel fresh tears on your cheeks being wiped away by a calloused thumb. Is this really what you’ve felt for him after all this time? And he really does love you? He loves you? He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

“But—“

“Don’t.”

Shinsou stops any further argument by placing his lips over yours in a soft and loving kiss. His hands gently cups your face as he continues to kiss you. The kiss itself is enveloped in all the pent up love and emotions that haven’t been communicated over the years; the feelings that have been harbored for far too long and are finally escaping and being known to the world. Your hands rest against his chest as you press further into the kiss, finally feeling whole from a feeling of being incomplete. The two of you don’t need each other, you want each other. You want to grow and work and meld into each other; be your own people while being a unit. That’s how it’s always been, and that’s how it will be.

Taglist: @cupcake-rogue @chefakari @axelsfirecracker @minninugget @missalienqueen @angelofdarkness1020 @trashy-simp @rainbowgundrops @aubreykirishima @graybabyxx

[mylordshesacactus]

A Writer’s Guide To Hurricanes, I Guess

I realized with a bit of chagrin that, while I’ve spent years bitching about how it drives me up the wall that nobody (in fandom or, in fact, mainstream media) has a goddamn clue how hurricanes work and yet insists on portraying them anyway...I’ve never actually tried to help by explaining what they’re actually like.

So, here’s a genuine, non-sarcastic, good-faith attempt by a Floridian to help you guys who might want to write this stuff at some point understand it, just a little.

So here we go, chronologically in terms of the storm’s progress.

The storm itself is the least of it.

This is the thing non-hurricane places don’t....get.

You can see a hurricane coming. You can watch it. You have, in fact, no choice. I need to reiterate this.

You have no choice but to sit there and watch a hurricane coming.

I’ve actually talked a lot in another post about what that feels like, and why hurricane parties are a thing. But try to imagine what that feels. Just...try. You have to sit there, for about a week, watching the wrath of God bear down on you.

You watch it come and you hope the path changes. You hope it veers off back into the Atlantic, of course, but you also--you hope it hits somewhere else. You know wherever it goes people will die and you hope it goes somewhere else. And you feel kinda bad about it; but you also don't because these are just facts, this is a fact of hurricanes, they will go somewhere and people will die in that place and all of us hope it goes Somewhere Else and if it does, we know that the people Somewhere Else are praying frantically that it gets back on course and hits us instead and we understand.

(And when it does change course, when it doesn’t hit you, you almost feel....cheated? Because you spent so much time and energy preparing and fearing and coming to terms and accepting and bracing and then it--doesn’t happen.

And the guilt of praying it would go Somewhere Else is nothing compared to being disgusted with yourself for actually feeling disappointed that you were spared the apocalypse this time.)

The wind is different.

If you listen to weather reports on hurricanes you’ve absolutely heard the phrasing “sustained winds of X miles per hour with gusts up to Y” without really thinking about what that means.

Now, of course everyone’s been in windy conditions. It’s hard to put a finger on exactly how the hurricane is....different, so I’m just going to describe what it’s like.

The wind always comes from one direction. There’s no being “knocked this way and that” or whatever; the wind comes from the direction the wind is coming from. Always.

(If you’re near where the center of the storm passes, this direction will slowly change as your position relative to the eye changes. But it changes over a matter of hours--like the angle of the sun.)

The wind is a constant, unrelenting force. There’s no....there’s no dips in the wind. It never lessens, it only spikes and then returns to baseline. In a normal windstorm, no, it’s not that the wind ever stops blowing, but...there’s an ebb and a flow. A hurricane is a wind tunnel in which every so often someone revs the engine and there’s a few seconds of higher wind, but it never drops below where it’s set.

(The wind will snake under plywood and storm shutters; it will rip them clean off, if you haven’t screwed them in properly. Screws, not nails. The wind makes deadly projectiles of anything not fastened down. Plywood and storm shutters can be broken, by anything travelling fast enough. It is standard procedure, if you have lawn furniture or anything else not secured that doesn’t float, to carefully lower that furniture into a pool--if you have one. It will stay untouched, and won’t be flung through your neighbors’ plywood.)

This is why hurricanes take down so many trees, why they do so much structural damage. Buildings in hurricane zones are built to withstand high wind, and most trees in these areas can survive high wind too or they wouldn’t have survived so long. But there’s only so much that nature and engineering can do about sustained high winds, without a moment’s rest, for hours, unending, no respite...

In landfall footage--ie, the stuff you see on the news--you likely see this effect in the palm trees-watch how instead of tossing, they’re just bent. It never lets up. In the instances where a bent tree violent bounces back before bending again, trust me--that’s not a letup in the wind speed. That’s the tree having been bent too far, and springing back from the sheer pressure on its internal structure. That’s the tree being stronger than the wind--for now

It’s mostly not like the TV reports.

There’s a reason I referred to “landfall footage” above. News broadcasts, for a lot of reasons, focus on the storm at its worst. The highest storm surge, the highest winds, the most brutal damage, occurs where the eye wall first crosses from being over water to being over land.

(Remember--by the time a storm “makes landfall,” everything for miles around has been experiencing the storm for hours already. “Landfall” is when the EYE of the storm first hits land, not when the storm “arrives”.)

But hurricanes are...vast. Look up satellite footage of hurricanes. Really look at it. Look at how much sheer area they cover.

Most places do not experience landfall-level disaster. That’s why, when people evacuate--well, when residents evacuate, the tourists and recent transplants tend to panic harder--you’re basically always evacuating to someplace that will still have vanished under that mass of swirling clouds. Evacuation sites are still inside the hurricane, but wind speed, storm surge, etc--everything drops dramatically even a few miles from the eye.

On a related note, the eye itself rapidly starts shedding power the moment it’s no longer over open water. Generally, the simple act of making landfall instantly drops a hurricane at least one category in severity. Hurricanes are eldritch gods; they rise from the sea and from the sea they take their power. Cut off from it, they starve.

Do not think for a moment that just because you’re “only” experiencing Cat 1 winds that this storm can’t kill your ass dead. Do not underestimate what the death throes of a dying god can do.

Storm surge isn’t high waves, and it isn’t rain.

Storm surge is the actual sea level rising. The entire ocean being dragged onto land by the power of the storm.

Particularly wet and slow hurricanes might--rarely--drop enough rain to cause flooding. However, that’s unusual; most places here can handle heavy rain. The rain isn’t the problem.

(Slow hurricanes are killers on another level. It’s everything I’ve already said about the unrelenting brutality of the wind, coupled with the fact that--as, again, the vast majority of the storm has been raging for hours by the time it “makes landfall”, and hurricanes draw power from the Eye being over the water--it now has hours upon hours of fully-fuelled destruction before it begins to weaken by being cut off from warm water. It doesn’t weaken, it just....keeps going. And the storm surge is present that entire time.)

I’m just gonna direct you to this NOAA diagram on how storm surge works.

The northeast quadrant is the strongest.

This isn’t a proper subheading it’s just something I rarely see people not from Florida acknowledge. 

No matter where the storm is coming from or what angle it hits at--the northeast quadrant is the killer. You do everything in your power to avoid being caught northeast of the storm.

In hurricane-prone areas, the threat is felt year-round.

All the major intersections? Our stoplights aren’t hung on wires from wooden poles--those blow down too easily. They’re bolted to thick metal pipes, “hurricane-proof”. Major roadways that are above floodlines are labelled as evacuation routes.

Things like that.

Hurricanes make their presence known long before the disaster begins.

You start to get “hurricane weather” days--days--before it hits. The sun is out, the weather is fine except for a...

Well, a constant, low-level breeze, with much less variation in angle and direction than usual, fewer gusts, but still primarily a natural breeze. And then you go outside and you look up at that cheerful blue sky and it’s already there.

They’re called cloud bands. You look up and the entire sky is just fluffy white clouds, racing at speed in one direction...

(The breeze, in those early few days, is light. Present, but light. The clouds are always, always racing as if before a gale. There’s a pervasive, eerie wrongness about this, looking up--the clouds moving much, much faster than the wind that should be driving them.)

A hurricane is not a thunderstorm.

This is the cardinal sin and the clearest, most common misconception. Hurricanes are not thunderstorms. In fact it’s actually very rare to have lightning or hear any thunder at all during a hurricane, compared to an average summer storm in hurricane-prone areas.

People often portray hurricanes as basically....the worst storm they can remember, but bigger, and badder, and worse. Hurricanes aren’t just big and intense, they’re....different. They’re something different.

Hurricanes are...quiet.

Except that they’re not.

You know when people talk about the wind howling? Think of the most intense storm you’ve ever sat through. Think about the sound of the wind.The way it whistles through leaves. Hold that experience in your head.

Now forget it. This is different.

Hurricanes don’t sound like that. Hurricanes are....

The sound a hurricane makes is a howl, yes. It makes palm fronds and grass steps and leaves whistle like a rapier scraped against a sheathe, yes. But you barely notice those shallow details, because the sound a hurricane makes is below that, stronger, more powerful.

Hurricanes moan.

Hurricanes are the entire world around you slowly and steadily fraying at the seams, and it moans, low and deep, agonized and hungry, and it never stops. Never. Not until it’s over.

Hurricanes are a world ending.

The storm passes, and the hurricane has only begun.

Do you think people stock up as heavily as they do, with generators and nonperishables and such, for--what, for a few hours of wind and rain, however alive?

No.

Because once the tempest is past, now you have to...exist.

You will not have power. If you were in a very, very lightly-affected area, you might have cell service. Most of your neighbors have evacuated. Many roads can’t be used because they’re washed out, or there are trees or power lines down across them.

It’s very common to lose water pressure. Common practice in hurricane-prone areas is to fill your bathtub with water before the storm--so that, when you lose water pressure, you can use a bucket to flush your toilet. Because those conditions, assuming you’re in an area that can be repaired and not rebuilt, can take weeks.

Weeks without running water, a flushable toilet. That gets grim fast. You brace for the storm. You prepare for what follows.

A hurricane is an eldritch abomination.

Hurricanes are alive.

Hurricanes are Old Gods.

Sitting through a hurricane is not like sitting through a bad storm or like sitting through a tornado, which is fast and unstoppable but then it’s over like it never existed save for the destruction left behind.

In order to get a clearer understanding of just how much the universe is vast, how much it does not, cannot, even notice you enough to want you dead because you are so small it would not comprehend you as possessing an existence if it tried--you would have to go to space.

And while the world moans around you and something out there, alive, growls at a frequency you can’t hear but you feel--you don’t cuddle for warmth during a hurricane. You just don’t.

You keep the generator running outside in the lee of the house where it won’t kill you all with gas fumes, connected via wires that snake around through a cracked door somewhere it won’t get blown open. You make sure it doesn’t run out of fuel, that it doesn’t get water blown into anything important. You use it to power a TV first--to keep the weather report on. You power lights second, if it’s a decent one. You can’t afford one powerful enough to run your refrigerator; you ate the ice cream before this started.

You play games. We’re human; it’s what we do. We play games in the face of our own helplessness. But while you play, you listen. You can’t not.

It’s always there. The world creaks on its hinges. You feel the edges threatening to dissolve. If you sit for a moment and are quiet, that ever-present moan is there, something ancient and powerful on a scale outside your comprehension. There is no cozy comfort of being bunkered down safe against the storm, not here.

There is no “safe” against this. You sit still and quiet and bear witness.

And when the sun rises in the aftermath, you’re surprised to find the world--even a wrecked and altered world--still exists. It shouldn’t. You were there when it ended.

And--and I cannot emphasize this enough--there’s no fucking thunder.

[chibinekochan]

My Demon family

You get adopted by Lucifer and Diavolo

Just some domestic fluff. 

In this au the reader is a toddler that brings loads of love and chaos into their lives.

And yes they are married in this Au, congrats boys.

2.9k words

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  A very typical appointment leads Lucifer to take Diavolo's place visiting a human orphanage. 

Lucifer isn't even sure how or why Diavolo is involved here but he is here regardless. 

Counting the minutes until it's over.

  Bored he looks at the children playing, they are clearly scared of him. Nothing new. Somehow small beings like these tend to be scared of him. Probably his demon aura. 

Then his eyes meet yours. You somehow wandered towards him, book in hand and pull on his pant leg. With huge bright eyes you look at him. Lucifer crooks his head, wondering what you possibly want from him. 

You pout, since he didn't get what you wanted at all. "Mister read to me." You plead with him. Being kinda bored by the other adults not paying any attention to you.

Lucifer raises his eyebrows. He hesitates for a moment. How long has it been since any of his brothers asked him to read to them?

  He looks at you, waiting for you to run away from him. Not a single blink. You just keep looking at him, pointing at the book. "Please mister?!" Putting a tiny bit more urgency into your request. Feeling slightly encouraged since he didn't shoo you away. 

Lucifer can feel his resolve melting due to your pleading eyes. You are very good at this, he has to give you that. 

After another moment locked into a staring contest Lucifer lost. 

He probably never truly had a chance. "Fine, but only for a bit." Lucifer gives in.

  You give him the biggest and brightest smile he has ever seen. Even brighter than Diavolos. 

He finds himself smiling back at you. With this success you cheerfully lead Lucifer to the reading corner. You sit down and look at Lucifer. Clearly expecting him to sit down. 

So he does. "Let's see what we have here. The ugly duckling? Can't say I have read it before." Lucifer opens the book. 

"It's not my favorite. I like the cat and the boot better but someone else got it." You sigh disappointed. "Sounds like something Satan would like." Lucifer chuckles lightly. 

"Is that your child?" You feel curious. 

"He is my brother." Lucifer smiles lightly. 

"That's cool, I have no siblings and my parents are in heaven. Do you believe in heaven?" 

Lucifer is a bit taken aback. "Yes, I know it exists for a fact." He gives you a gentle smile. 

"That's awesome. Do you have other family?" You feel like you want to know even more. 

"I have 6 brothers and one sister, she is also in heaven and I'm married." Lucifer feels a bit of kinship with your loss. 

"Wow, so many siblings. Your parents were quite busy. Do you think my parents and your sister play in heaven together?" 

Lucifer is surprised by your bluntness but it's also very endearing. “I'm sure they do.”

You seem satisfied with that.“You are the oldest right?” 

Lucifer laughs at that. "How did you guess that?" 

You shrug. "You just have big brother energy."

"I see. Shall I read this now for you?" Lucifer finds himself smiling at you. 

"Yeah." You nod and Lucifer starts to read the story.

He isn't sure if it's too sad for you but you seem to be too enthralled by the pictures to care much.

  Then someone comes over and apparently the visit is over.

Not much time has passed but Lucifer finds himself reluctant to leave. You also have an equally sad look on your face, just making this so much harder. “Will you come again?" You seem anxious. 

Lucifer guesses that you must worry, you have certainly lost so much and he doesn't want to give you false hopes. Once he opens his mouth something unexpected escapes him: "Yes." This surprises him much more than you, since all he can see is a bright smile on your face. 

"Awesome. Then we can play on the swings and make a castle and we could draw something." You already made plans it seems. 

Lucifer can't help but smile at this much excitement. Only one other person in his life would be so excited over making plans with Lucifer. That being Diavolo. He probably should bring him along next time I meet you. "I might bring someone special along to meet you too." Lucifer can't promise this part, knowing how busy Diavolo is. 

Your eyes are filled to the brim with hopeful excitement. "That would be cool. I might introduce you to my cool friends too then." You clearly can't contain your excitement at all. 

Lucifer feels a strange desire to trussle your hair, but he holds himself back. "Sure, I look forward to that and if you need anything just tell the person in charge you want to talk to Lucifer." He feels compelled to offer you this much at least. 

You crook your head. "Sure, but did one of the older kids really get into trouble for calling upon Lucifer?" 

Lucifer raises his eyebrow, saying he had forgotten about these kinds of humans. "I see, well in that case just tell me when I come back."

  He leaves the orphanage very reluctant. Especially after he sees you waving at him. 

This is what having your heart broken must feel like. It's strange that a small human could manage such a thing in a single day. 

Lucifer returns home, to the demon castle. 

Many different thoughts cross his mind but Lucifer already knows what to do next. 

In the evening Lucifer and Diavolo have their usual dinner together.

  "There is something that I would like to discuss with you." Lucifer doesn't take long to get to the topic. 

"Sure, tell me what is on your mind." Diavolo has noticed that there is something on Lucifer's mind. 

"I know we haven't talked about this yet but how would you feel about adopting a child?" 

Diavolo is very surprised. "I didn't think that you would be interested in a child. Did the visit to the orphanage inspire this desire?" Diavolo is smiling, he always figured that Lucifer is already too busy to even consider a child. 

'I wasn't, or at least I thought I wasn't until earlier." Lucifer smiles gently. "You see there was this small child and I don't know how but they touched my heart." 

Diavolo chuckles. "Sounds like a remarkable child to me. Being able to touch your heart in a single day. It took me centuries to get to that point."

"I was just playing hard to get." Lucifer shoots Diavolo a flirty look. 

Diavolo laughs. "So you are seriously wanting to adopt a child after seeing them once? And here I thought I'm the spontaneous one in our marriage." 

"I thought so too but I guess you rubbed off on me and before making a final decision I want you to meet them. I mean I want to adopt them with you." Lucifer shrugs and then smiles gently at Diavolo. 

"I like this new spontaneous side of you, Lucifer. I will go along. Every person that manages to capture your heart is worth meeting at least once in my opinion." Diavolo smiles widely at Lucifer. 

"Thank you, Diavolo and I realize that I'm quite unreasonable." Lucifer just can't help himself. 

"Well, if it had been me I would have just brought them home with me. So you are quite reasonable in my opinion." Diavolo let's out a heartfelt laughter. 

"I sure hope you don't bring another puppy home." Lucifer shakes his head. 

"I have learned my lesson." Diavolo waves Lucifer off. "Now when should we go to the orphanage?" Diavolo checks his schedule. 

"Oh, and I definitely want to hear the whole story. I might be able to learn something from them." Diavolo is already fully on board with this. No matter how much this will turn his life upside down, seeing Lucifer this smitten is more than enough for Diavolo to do this.

  Lucifer agrees and gives a quite lively retelling of his earlier encounter. Every word raises Diavolos' excitement. 

Soon the day arrives. Diavolo barely contains his excitement and Lucifer seems to be rather nervous. 

"It's kinda like a first date isn't it?" Diavolo muses. 

"Not really, but I understand the sentiment." Lucifer smiles lightly. 

"Do you think that they will like me?" Diavolo seems a bit uncertain. 

"I can't imagine that they wouldn't like you. You are way easier to love than I am." Lucifer pats Diavolo on his shoulder. 

"That's very sweet of you to say. Shall we head inside?" Diavolo takes a small breath. 

Lucifer nods. 

   They both head inside, into a room where you are already waiting for them. As soon as you see them you run to them. With a small push toy in toe. "You really came!" You smile wide at Lucifer. 

"I tend to keep my word." Lucifer smiles gently at you. 

"Is that your special person?" With curious eyes you look at Diavolo. 

Who instantly crouches down, trying not to spook you with his size. 

"Yes, this is Diavolo my husband." Lucifer introduces him with a gentle smile. 

"Hello, you are pretty, a good choice Lucifer. If I had known I would have made you a flower crown or something. Unless that's not your style." You seem to approve. 

Diavolo chuckles and Lucifer flushes a little. "I like flower crowns and who is your friend here." Diavolo looks at your little toy. 

"This is my best friend Tom. He is a bit shy but once you know him he won't shut up." You hold your plush toy up. 

"Ah, nice to meet you." Diavolo shakes its little paw. 

"Reminds me of Levi." Lucifer gives a small laugh. You look at Lucifer with a curious look.

"That's one of my brothers." He explains.

That seems to be enough for now.

  "So what kind of games do you guys like to play?" You look at the shelves of games on the wall. 

"You can decide today." Diavolo offers and that seems to be just the right choice since your face lights up. 

"Then we should go outside. We can only go to the playground but we can make a sandcastle." You seem only slightly disappointed by your lack of opinions. 

"Sounds perfect to me." Diavolo nods to that idea. 

"Oh, but your clothes are gonna get dirty right? Does that bother you?" You just thought about that possibly. 

"Don't worry about it. I have cast a dirt repeal spell on both of our clothes." Lucifer had seen something like this coming. 

"Wow, that's super useful. I need something like that too. I always get scolded for getting dirty." You pout slightly. 

"No worries, I can cast it on you too." It's pretty easy for Lucifer. He easily casts the spell to your amazement. 

"Sweet, do you have a spell that makes peppers taste good too?" You look at yourself, feeling pretty pleased. 

"Sorry, even my powers have limitations." Lucifer chuckles. 

"Too bad." You sigh slightly disappointed. 

"Yeah, if that were the case I'd be eating pickles by now." Diavolo nods to himself. 

"You don't like pickles? You should really eat them or you won't become big and strong." You parrot the one thing that they keep telling you. 

"I think I'm big enough already but I get what you mean." Diavolo sighs, slightly defeated. 

"So, are we going to play on the playground now or what?" You grow slightly inpatient. 

"Of course, lead the way." Lucifer smiles and you proudly show them the way, it's right behind the building. 

You show them the sandbox and grab a few things to build with. 

You then make sure that everyone has a plastic sand toy. 

"How big do you like your castle?" You start by doing the foundation of your future sandcastle. 

"As big as my own castle, what about you Lucifer?" Diavolo can already picture it in front of his eyes. 

"I doubt we have enough sand or space for that. I think this size is pretty good." Lucifer doesn't even know the first thing about sandcastles but he knows it will be impossible to build one as big as a real castle. 

"You live in a real castle? Like some sort of prince or something?" The mention of a real castle is very exciting to you. 

"Actually I'm a prince." Diavolo grins a bit bashfully. 

"No joke? That's so awesome! Wait, does that make you a prince too, then Lucifer?" Your excitement knows no bounds. 

"No, but I guess you could say I'm a royal consort of sorts." Lucifer wasn't interested in the title at all. 

"Royal conort? Sounds like cake or something." You crook your head. 

"Hahaha it kind of does. I should ask Barbatos to invent a dessert with that name." Diavolo can't contain his laughter. 

"Royal consort is just what you call someone who is married to royalty but it does sound silly." Lucifer had never even thought about it. 

"Let's go on the swings now." You had enough building for now.

"Alright. What shall we do with the castle?" Lucifer looks at the pile of sand.

"There is only one thing that can be done." You get up and jump with full force into the pile, destroying the whole thing. 

"Aww too bad, I wanted to finish it." Diavolo looks a bit solemn. 

You get up, shake the sand off and then give him a little pat. "We can build an even better castle next time." 

"You are right. We should make it double as big." Diavolo instantly lights up. 

"I wonder which of you is the real child here." Lucifer shakes his head but smiles gently at you and Diavolo. 

You're almost already on the swings before you come running back. "Come on, don't be slowpokes. The swings are very popular." You nervously look at the currently empty swings. 

"Coming." Both men speak in unison and then chuckle at each other. You clearly have them both already wrapped around your little fingers. 

Pleased you sit on the swing. "Diavolo can you give me a push?" 

"Of course." Diavolo gives you a gentle push, unsure of how much strength he should use.

  Lucifer has a slightly sour expression. 

"You can use the other swing if you want." You aren't sure why Lucifer seems to be upset. 

"No, don't mind me." Lucifer hadn't even noticed the frown on his face. 

"Yeah, don't worry about him. I think he is just upset that you asked me to give you a push." Diavolo laughs. 

Lucifer rolls his eyes but he also can't deny it. 

"I'm sorry Lucifer. You can do it next time, or maybe I can give you a push." 

Lucifer flushes slightly. "Sure, why not." 

You swing some more, while laughing the entire time.

  The time passes before you even notice it. Soon your time together will end. Each of you seems to feel equally sad. 

"Seems like our time is going to end soon." Lucifer has no choice but to point out the obvious. 

You nod, with a troubled expression. It's heartbreaking. 

"Will you come back?" You are a bit scared to ask. You can't even look at them. 

Both men look at each other then they smile. "Of course we will come back." Lucifer says what both are thinking. 

You look at them, eyes sparkle. "Does that mean that you both like me? Because I think you are both pretty cool. I mean Tom is still the best but you are pretty close." You sheepishly squeeze your toy.

"Of course we like you." Diavolo smiles. 

Lucifer seems slightly troubled by the fact that he was beaten by a toy. 

"So, how about I give you a ride home and then we come and play again soon?" Diavolo obviously wants to make this as easy as possible for you and himself. 

"Yeah, I always wanted to ride a horse but  a prince comes pretty close." You agree with a nod. 

Lucifer seems a bit unsure about the connection but snickers regardless. 

Diavolo lifts you on his shoulders and carries you back to the orphanage, while walking as slowly as possible. 

The goodbye is still kind of hard but it's helped by the fact that you will meet again. 

"So we are going to do this right?" Diavolo is the first to speak on the way home.

"Yes, we are but I want to clarify that this isn't just something that will be just fun and games. The Devildom is a dangerous place for children. Human children are extremely fragile so we will have to be very prepared." Lucifer knows this will be anything but easy. 

"So we should make the whole castle human safe and child safe. Lucky enough we have more than enough rooms. I will ask Barbatos to get us some childcare books from the human realm. I'm quite excited just thinking about this." Diavolo seems very giddy. 

"I agree with that. I should get my brothers some books too. They need to be educated. We should take some classes about child care." Lucifer already forms a detailed plan in his head. 

Both keep talking about the adoption, being very excited about the whole thing.

~ So yeah this is it for now. I wanted to write more and maybe I will. I have a cliffnotes version I might post that soon. Anyhow I hope you enjoyed this so far.