#and who helped light the beacons of this au

[capriciouswriter207]

Bit more background for the beacon au: 

Once, the world was overrun by evil. The undead ambled out of the woods and strange creatures terrorized the world by day. The caves were even more dangerous, for the undead took shelter from the burning sun. If this threat was not stopped, the world could be overrun completely.

To build beacons - to cast enough light in the dark to keep the undead away, and to deter strange creatures from coming - was the only way to stop them. These beacons, however, were not easy to construct. A terrifying three-headed creature so old that even history doesn't remember its name had to be found and destroyed. Even then, its destruction has a terrible price that must be paid. 

A group of five adventurers took on the challenge. Though history knows their names, they are not freely used in their stories and the average person would not know them. The adventurers found and fought the ancient creature, tearing off all of its limbs and leaving only its spine and three heads, but it still lived. It was False who paid the price and got swept away by this withering creature. The others left with the limbs, never knowing what exactly happened to their good friend.

Out of these limbs, they could fashion small stars that could power the beacon bases they had already constructed. However, the activation of these beacons via these hand-crafted stars came with a cost: one sacrifice of what you held dear, to safeguard the future. When all was said and done, each made an appropriate sacrifice.

Zedaph sacrificed his goofiness. With one last smile on his face, he relinquished his goofiness, creativity, and inventiveness to ensure that his beacon would be lit and none would have to suffer ever again.

Impulse sacrificed his cunning. His wit and shrewdness were a fair price to pay to save the world, he believed. Though he would miss it, the world would be a safer place until the end of time because of it.

Tango sacrificed his mind. He created more guardians before he made the sacrifice, with the understanding that he may not be able to protect this beacon on his own once the sacrifice has been made.

Skizzleman sacrificed his company. He would forever give up the pleasantries of company, the knowledge that someone is near, the joys of having good conversations. He would be alone to the end of his days.

The beacons were lit, beams of light reaching into the sky and heralding a new age of peace and prosperity to the world. The adventurers are said to have survived these sacrifices, staying around the beacons to protect them as its guardians forevermore. Nobody has come close enough to any of the beacons to confirm, for the journey to the beacons themselves are rather treacherous and confusing. Though it is widely believed that these beacons would be lit until the end of the world, the smallest of rumors has it that the beacons can be undone by undoing the sacrifices the adventurers made. Since nobody thought this was even possible, the knowledge faded from the world.

But the beacons were undone anyway. The beams of light disappeared and the world was exposed to evil again.

[fvsm4x]

#MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE? [Gojo Satoru]

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.

— C.W: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , dark themes , slightly geto suguru x female reader , no curses au.

— WORD COUNT: 5.3k+

NEXT

„I think we should break up.“

Gojo’s words hung in the air, as he looked into your eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you fought to keep the tears at bay. You desperately tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to show Gojo just how deeply his words had wounded you.

“Why? What happened?“ You managed to ask, your voice trembling.

Gojo’s gaze softened, but his eyes held a distant look, as if his mind was already elsewhere. “I’ve found someone else,” he admitted, his words like a dagger to your fragile heart.

A whirlwind of emotions engulfed your thoughts. Insecurity, confusion, and a deep sense of betrayal washed over you. You had always known Gojo was popular, surrounded by women who seemed to possess an otherworldly beauty that you could only dream of. But you had hoped that your connection would be strong enough to withstand any external temptations.

As tears welled up in your eyes, you couldn’t help but question your own worth. Gojo had been your beacon of light, the one who had brought joy and stability into your chaotic world. You had believed that your love was strong enough to overcome any obstacles.

But now, faced with the harsh reality of Gojo’s confession, your insecurities resurfaced with a vengeance.

How could Gojo have led you on, making you believe that your love was real, only to discard you so easily for someone else?

But despite the storm of emotions raging within you, you knew that you had to find the strength to let Gojo go. You couldn’t force someone to love you, no matter how much you wanted to.

And so, with a heavy heart and tears streaming down your face, you whispered, “If that’s what you truly want, then I won’t stand in your way.”

You wiped away your tears and caught Gojo’s gaze. His eyes were filled with regret and sadness, and you could see the pain he felt in his expression. It was as if he realized the gravity of his decision and the hurt he had caused you.

“I’m so sorry,” Gojo whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. “I never wanted to hurt you. It’s not about your worth or how you compare to anyone else. It’s about me and my own shortcomings.”

You looked at him, surprised by his words.

“I understand,” you replied softly, your voice filled with a mix of sadness and acceptance. “I know I can’t change your feelings or make you stay. I’ll start packing my things so you can have your apartment back.”

As you rose from the plush couch, your footsteps echoed through the spacious apartment, the sound muffled by the thick carpet beneath your feet. With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom you had once shared with Gojo. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the impending change that would soon occur.

You opened the grand closet, its ornate doors revealing a collection of clothes and personal belongings. The air was filled with a bittersweet nostalgia as you carefully selected each item, their presence a testament to the love and happiness you had once shared. The room seemed to whisper your name, its walls bearing witness to the countless moments of joy and intimacy that had unfolded within its confines.

As you held each cherished possession in your hands, memories flooded your mind like a river. The soft touch of Gojo's hand, the warmth of his embrace, and the laughter that had once filled the room. Each item carried a weight of emotions, a reminder of the love you had believed to be unbreakable.

Gojo, sitting on the edge of the bed, watched you with a pained expression. The reality of the situation seemed to settle in, and he realized the depth of the connection he was severing. The room felt colder, emotions hanging thick in the air.

As you folded your clothes and placed them in a suitcase, Gojo finally spoke again, his voice carrying a tinge of regret. "I never wanted it to come to this, Y/n. You deserve happiness, and I hope you find it even if it's without me."

His words lingered, a bittersweet acknowledgment of the end. The room, once filled with shared laughter and intimate moments, now felt like a haunting memory. The pain was palpable, and you couldn't help but wonder if it would ever subside.

As you zipped up your suitcase, Gojo approached, his hand hesitating in the air as if unsure whether to touch you.

He gently brushed away a tear that rolled down your cheek.

"I'm truly sorry," he murmured,

With your suitcase in hand, you stood near the doorway, taking one last look at the place that had been your shared sanctuary. It was a goodbye to not only Gojo but also to the dreams you had woven together.

As you walked out, Gojo remained in the room, the emptiness echoing the void left by the shattered relationship. The door closed behind you, sealing the end of a chapter that had once promised forever.

-

In the days that followed, the task of finding a new place to call home became increasingly overwhelming. The once vibrant city, which had once been a source of shared dreams and promises, now seemed indifferent to your struggles. Each apartment viewing brought with it a fresh wave of emotions, serving as a painful reminder of the life you had envisioned with Gojo.

In the midst of this turmoil, old habits resurfaced. You found yourself reaching for cigarettes and turning to alcohol as a means of coping.

It was disheartening, as you had believed that these vices were behind you after Gojo entered your life and seemingly fixed all your problems. But now, they have reappeared, threatening to consume you once again.

What made matters worse was the lack of support you had. There were no parents to lean on, no friends to turn to for help. You were left to navigate this challenging situation all on your own, starting from scratch.

Before meeting Gojo, you had worked countless jobs to pay your bills and support your studies, scraping by with whatever little money you had.

The weight of it all was taking its toll on you. You felt yourself falling apart, the stress and uncertainty chipping away at your resolve.

But then, Gojo appeared, and your life took an unexpected turn. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring the two of you together. The first time you laid eyes on him was when you were working as a waitress at a cozy bakery. As he walked in, time seemed to stand still. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his striking features.

His vibrant blue eyes, reminiscent of a clear summer sky, held a depth that drew you in. His snow-white hair and lashes added an ethereal touch to his already captivating appearance. And when he smiled, it was as if the whole room lit up with warmth and charm. You were instantly captivated by his presence, unable to tear your gaze away.

To your surprise, Gojo noticed your lingering glances and, with a confident stride, approached the counter where you were working. He invited you to join him, and you couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend more time with this enigmatic man. As you sat together, indulging in delectable desserts, the hours seemed to melt away in a blur of laughter and shared stories.

Days turned into weeks, and Gojo became a regular at the bakery, always seeking your company. The two of you would engage in deep conversations that spanned a wide range of topics, from the trivial to the profound. Each interaction only deepened your connection, and before you knew it, you found yourself falling for him.

However, amidst the blossoming romance, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind. You couldn’t help but notice the parade of women that seemed to surround Gojo. He would visit the bakery at least twice a week, each time accompanied by a different woman. They would engage in affectionate displays, acting as if they were a couple.

As you observed these interactions, a wave of insecurity washed over you. Comparisons became inevitable, and you couldn’t help but feel inadequate in comparison to these stunning women. Their flawless skin, plump breasts, and alluring curves seemed to highlight your own perceived shortcomings. Their beauty was undeniable, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever measure up.

But despite these doubts, Gojo continued to seek your company, showing genuine interest in your thoughts, dreams, and aspirations. His actions spoke louder than words, and you began to question your own self-doubt. Perhaps there was more to this connection than meets the eye.

Maybe, just maybe, Gojo saw something in you that went beyond physical appearances.

Motivated by this newfound hope, you made a conscious effort to break free from your bad habits. Weeks turned into months, and Gojo continued to visit the bakery every day just to see you.

However, one day, something special happened. Gojo waited patiently for you to finish your shift and then walked you back to the motel where you were staying. It was during this walk that he truly realized how difficult your life actually was.

Seeing you work tirelessly, with dark circles under your eyes and wearing the same clothes day after day, Gojo couldn’t bear to see you living in such difficult conditions. He noticed the presence of alcohol and cigarettes in your room and insisted that you stay with him instead. He wanted to provide you with a better life, free from the struggles you had been facing.

And so, you took up Gojo’s offer and moved in with him.

And that's when you became a couple.

But after two years of being in a relationship with Gojo, he found someone else. The person who used to hold you in his arms, whisper sweet words of love, and make you feel like the most important person in his life was now directing those affectionate gestures towards someone else.

You didn’t want to let him go. The thought of losing him was devastating. However, you also understood that you couldn’t force him to stay with you if his heart was no longer fully committed. Questions swirled in your mind. Did you do something wrong? Were you not exciting enough for him anymore? Was there something else that led him to find someone new?

Despite the heartache, one thing remained certain- your love for Gojo would never fade. The pain of knowing that he loved someone else, someone who wasn’t you, was excruciating. No one could ever replace the way Gojo had changed you, the way he had touched your heart and made you feel alive.

You sat alone in the dimly lit motel room, a bottle of liquor in hand, you sought solace in the numbing effects of alcohol. The pain in your heart seemed unbearable, and you hoped that drowning your sorrows would provide temporary relief.

The room felt suffocating. Each sip of the bitter liquid seemed to momentarily wash away the ache, but deep down, you knew it was only a temporary escape. The truth remained that Gojo had moved on, and you were left grappling with the shattered pieces of your heart.

With a heavy sigh, you placed the half-empty bottle on the grimy nightstand and slowly rose from the disheveled bed. Your footsteps carried you towards the suitcase, which stood dutifully beside a small table, as you rummaged through its contents in search of something comfortable to wear for the night. The weight of your emotions bore down on you, causing you to push up your hoodie, removing it with a forceful toss onto the nearby chair, as you attempted to regain control over your tears.

The question echoed in your mind once again, piercing through the haze of confusion and hurt. How could he do this to you? The betrayal felt like a knife twisting in your heart, leaving you gasping for air amidst the waves of anguish.

You made your way towards the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, a vulnerable and exposed version of yourself. The longer you gazed upon your topless form, the deeper the sadness seeped into your being. Your hand instinctively reached out, fingers grazing the surface of your bare stomach, as if trying to grasp the weight.

Could it be that your weight gain was the reason behind his abandonment? Did he no longer desire to be with you because of the changes in your body? The thought gnawed at your self-esteem, fueling the belief that the girl he now chose to be with possessed a flat stomach, a flawless figure, and enviable curves. Qualities that you, in your own eyes, did not possess.

Feeling the ache in your stomach intensify, you released your grip and turned your attention back to the task at hand. Pulling out a set of comfortable pajamas from your suitcase, you quickly changed into them, hoping that the soft fabric would provide some comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions.

As you lay down on the bed, the worn-out mattress offering little respite, your mind raced with thoughts of the uncertain future that lay before you. The realization hit hard – you would have to find a job, and fast. The fear of being kicked out of the motel, with nowhere else to go, loomed over you like a dark cloud.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, your mind began to form a plan. You closed your eyes, the weight of exhaustion finally settling upon you.

-

Days turned into nights, and nights into days as you tirelessly searched for a job. The motel room became a temporary refuge, a place where you could rest your weary body and gather your thoughts before facing the world again. And then, finally, your efforts paid off.

You received a call from the bakery where you had once worked, offering you a position. Excitement and relief flooded through you as you accepted the job. It was a familiar place,

The first day back at the bakery was filled with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. As you stepped through the familiar doors, the scent of freshly baked bread enveloped you. The warm smiles and greetings from your former colleagues made you feel instantly welcome, as if you had never left.

You returned to your old position as a waitress and memories of Gojo lingered in the back of your mind. It had been a while since you had seen him, and you had made peace with the fact that he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

You let out a sigh as you walked over to the table where some guests were seated. Taking their orders, you jotted them down on a small notepad and headed towards the counter to place it.

As you turned around, the door opened, and there stood Gojo Satoru, looking as charming as ever. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, and a smile instantly spread across his face. He waved at you, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.

Beside Gojo stood a breathtakingly beautiful woman, exuding confidence and radiating charm. It was clear why Gojo was drawn to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

With a polite smile, you excused yourself and walked away, seeking solace in the different side of the bakery. Your heart raced as you tried to process the unexpected encounter. The memories of your past relationship flooded back, bringing with them a whirlwind of emotions.

In the safety of the different side, away from prying eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

As you continued your work, serving customers and attending to their needs, you found solace in the routine. The hustle and bustle of the bakery provided a distraction, allowing you to momentarily forget the turmoil that Gojo’s presence had stirred within you.

But deep down, you knew that healing would take time. The wounds were still fresh, and seeing Gojo with someone new had reopened them. Yet, you refused to let it define you.

As you stood behind the counter, your eyes scanned the room, searching for any customer in need of your assistance. However, it seemed that everyone was content, engrossed in their conversations and meals. Your gaze involuntarily shifted towards the table where Gojo sat with his new girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but observe the way Gojo’s eyes sparkled with adoration as he looked at her. The way his face lit up with a blush whenever she smiled at him was a sight you had never witnessed before. It was as if he saw her as a goddess, someone worthy of his utmost devotion and affection.

A pang of jealousy washed over you as you compared Gojo’s current demeanor with how he had looked at you in the past. His eyes had never held that same lovesick gaze when he was with you. It was a bitter realization that he had never regarded you in the same way he now regarded this new woman.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it was about her that captivated Gojo so completely. Was it her radiant smile, her confident aura, or perhaps something deeper that you couldn’t comprehend? Whatever it was, it was clear that Gojo had found someone who made his heart race and his eyes shine with love.

As you continued to observe them from a distance, a mix of emotions swirled within you. Part of you longed for Gojo to look at you with the same intensity, to make you feel like the center of his universe. But another part of you knew that it was time to let go, to accept that Gojo had moved on and found happiness elsewhere.

With a heavy sigh, you turned your attention back to your duties, reminding yourself that your worth was not defined by Gojo’s affections.

You carefully balanced the two deserts and the cup of hot chocolate on your tray, making sure everything was secure. Lost in your thoughts, you absentmindedly glanced at the table number where this order was meant to be served. Without looking up, you started walking towards the designated table, unaware of the impending collision.

Just as you were about to lift your gaze, your body collided with someone, causing your grip on the tray to loosen. The board slipped from your hands, and the cup of hot chocolate tumbled through the air, its contents splattering onto the person you had unintentionally crashed into.

Your eyes widened in shock, and panic surged through your veins as you realized the gravity of the situation. You quickly raised your gaze, meeting the eyes of the person you had accidentally drenched with hot chocolate. And in that moment, your whole world seemed to crumble around you.

It was her. The woman for whom Gojo had left you. The same woman who had stolen his heart and shattered yours in the process. The sight of her standing before you, her face contorted in pain as tears streamed down her cheeks, was like a knife to your heart.

She hissed in pain as the scalding hot chocolate made contact with her skin, desperately trying to wipe away the sticky liquid that clung to her. Your hands trembled as you reached for tissues from a nearby table, desperately attempting to alleviate the discomfort you had caused.

But just as you were about to wipe away the hot chocolate, a forceful hand slapped yours away, taking over the task of cleaning the girl's skin. Startled, you looked up and saw Gojo, his face contorted with fury. His eyebrows knitted together as he witnessed the tears streaming down the girl's face, his protective instincts kicking in.

You stood there, next to Gojo, your voice barely audible as you muttered apologies, trying to explain that it was an accident. But Gojo's anger seemed to drown out your words. He finished wiping away the hot chocolate from the girl's skin and pulled her into his arms, shielding her from any further harm. His gaze shifted towards you, his eyes filled with a mix of disappointment and rage.

"Why would you do that?!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the air. His words pierced through your heart, intensifying the guilt that already weighed heavily upon you. You could see the hurt in his eyes, the pain of betrayal mingling with the anger. But you couldn't find the words to defend yourself, knowing deep down that there was no justification for your actions.

„It was an accident-“

He took a deep breath,"Save it, I know why you did it.“

„Just because I found someone else and that I’m happy with them doesn’t mean that you’ll get to hurt them out of jealousy!“ he spoke

„I thought you were better than that," he said. The girl, still in his arms, chimed in, her voice filled with anger. "Call your manager, you need to be fired!"

Gojo's gaze shifted back to you, his eyes searching for an explanation. The weight of his disappointment and the girl's demand for your termination bore down on you. Panic set in as you realized the implications of losing your job. You couldn't afford to be fired; you needed the money to support yourself.

Desperation filled your voice as you pleaded with Gojo, "Please, don't ask for my manager. It was just an accident. I need this job, I can't afford to lose it." Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to convey the sincerity of your plea. You knew you had made a mistake, but it was one born out of carelessness, not malice.

You instinctively grabbed Gojos' hand,“Please-!“ you begged, but your hand only got slapped away by the woman in his arms.

„And now you go touching someone’s boyfriend? What‘s wrong with you!“ the girl shouted as she slapped you.

Your head turned to the side from the force of the slap, a surge of pain radiated through your cheek. The impact left your skin hot and flushed, a visible mark of the humiliation you felt. You fought back tears, determined not to let them see your vulnerability.

With trembling hands, you gently placed your palm against your reddened cheek, trying to soothe the pain. Your eyes flickered towards the girl, searching for any sign of remorse or understanding, but all you saw was a cold, dismissive gaze. Her arms crossed defiantly, she demanded that you call for the manager, her voice dripping with disdain.

„Call the manager.“

Desperation welled up within you, and you mustered the courage to speak, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and desperation. "Wait, please! I... I really need this job," you pleaded, hoping that she would see reason, that she would understand the dire circumstances that led you to this moment.

She cut you off, her words sharp and dismissive. "I don't care, call for your manager," she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for negotiation or empathy.

Your gaze shifted towards Gojo, silently pleading for his intervention, for him to vouch for you or at least offer some support. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a furrowed brow and a hint of disappointment. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight of disbelief and disapproval. "Can't believe you would pull something like that," he murmured, his words landing like a heavy blow to your already wounded heart.

Your hand, still trembling, fell from your cheek as you straighten your posture. With a deep breath, you mustered the strength to bow,

"I'll get t-the manager right away," you said,

With a heavy heart, you turned away from Gojo and the girl, making your way towards the counter to call for the manager.

Your hands trembled slightly as you picked up the phone, dialing the number with shaky fingers. Each ring felt like an eternity, amplifying the anxiety that coursed through your veins. Finally, a voice answered on the other end, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice.

"Hello- this is Y/n L/n from [Bakery]. I... I need to speak with the manager, please," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The person on the other end assured you that they would connect you, and you waited anxiously, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you waited, your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences that awaited you. Losing this job would mean losing your only source of income, and the financial strain it would bring was overwhelming. You couldn't bear the thought of disappointing your loved ones or struggling to make ends meet.

Finally, the manager's voice came through the line, and you mustered up the courage to explain the situation. You recounted the accident, your sincere apologies, and the girl's demand for your termination. The manager listened attentively, their voice calm and composed as they absorbed the details.

After a brief pause, the manager spoke, their tone firm yet compassionate. "I will come over to assess the situation and speak with all parties involved. Please remain calm and await my arrival."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you hung up the phone.

As you turned around, you noticed Gojo and the girl engaged in a hushed conversation. Their expressions were still filled with anger and disappointment, but there was also a hint of uncertainty. You approached them cautiously, your eyes downcast.

"I've c-called the manager," you said softly,"They will be here soon to address the situation. I... I'm truly sorry for what happened. It was never my intention to cause any harm or distress."

„Sure“ the girl replied.

-

Months had passed since that fateful encounter at the café. You had lost your job, the incident with Gojo and the girl tarnishing your reputation and leading to your dismissal. Now, you found yourself standing by the reception desk of another run-down motel, desperately seeking a place to stay for the night because you got kicked out of the last one.

As you approached the receptionist, a tired-looking man with a permanent scowl on his face, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety.

“Excuse me,” you began, your voice wavering slightly. “I was wondering if you have any available rooms for tonight?”

The receptionist glanced up from his paperwork, his eyes narrowing as he took in your disheveled appearance. His tone was curt as he replied, “We do have a few rooms left, but I’ll need payment upfront.”

Your heart sank. You had been scraping by, barely making ends meet, and the little money you had left was barely enough to cover your basic necessities.

“I… I’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t have enough money to pay for a room.”

The receptionist’s scowl deepened, his impatience evident. “Look, we can’t just give away rooms for free. If you can’t pay, then I suggest you find somewhere else to go.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the gravity of the situation. You were alone, with nowhere to turn and no one to rely on. The weight of your mistakes and the consequences they had brought upon you felt suffocating.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the reception desk, feeling the eyes of the other guests in the lobby on you, judging and pitying your predicament. As you walked towards the exit, a mix of shame and desperation washed over you, threatening to consume your spirit.

Outside, the cold night air greeted you, a stark reminder of your current reality. You stood on the sidewalk, feeling lost and defeated. The world seemed to blur around you as you pondered your next move, wondering how you had ended up in this dire situation.

Suddenly, a voice chimed in from behind, jolting you out of your thoughts. Startled, you turned around to find yourself face to face with Geto, your ex's best friend. His black eyes bore into yours, his raised eyebrows conveying curiosity and surprise. His gaze drifted to the suitcase clutched tightly in your hand, a silent question hanging in the air.

"Geto?" you questioned, your voice tinged with confusion.

A puff of smoke escaped his lips as he exhaled the cigarette between his fingers,"How many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Suguru," he replied,

“Why are you here?” he asked, standing before you and peering into your eyes. But before you could answer, another question slipped from his lips, catching you off guard. “Where is Satoru?”

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. He didn’t know. How could he not know? Wasn’t he Satoru’s best friend? Shouldn’t he have been informed about the breakup that had occurred just last month? Did Gojo, your ex, not bother to share the news with him?

“Didn’t Satoru tell you?” you asked, breaking eye contact with him, unable to bear his gaze any longer.

“Tell me what?” he questioned. He removed the cigarette from his lips and threw it to the ground, crushing it under his shoe.

“That we broke up,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. As you watched his reaction, you noticed a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he regained his composure.

“You two broke up..?” he questioned,“Since when did you-”

“Last month we broke up,” you interrupted,

“Is there any reason why you two broke up? Everything was good, wasn’t it?” As he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“He…” you hesitated, your gaze shifting to the side. “He found someone else,” you admitted, your lips trembling slightly.

“Oh,” he responded, his hand retracting from your shoulder as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes turned towards the night sky, lost in his own thoughts, before refocusing on you. “And why are you here in the middle of the night?” he asked, his gaze scanning you from head to toe, taking in your worn-out clothes. His eyes returned to your face.

“I got kicked out of the motel because I couldn’t pay for it anymore,” you replied,

His brows furrowed,"I'm so sorry to hear that," he said softly,"You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

Without hesitation, he reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I have an idea," he said,"Why don't you come stay with me until you find a job and get back on your feet?"

Surprised by his offer, you looked at him,"I- I can‘t do that-!" you spoke.

A warm smile spread across his face. "Of course you can," he replied. "I have a spare room and it would be my pleasure to help you out. Sometimes, all we need is a little support to get back on track."

„But-!“

„No buts.“

"Thank you," you whispered, "I don't know what to say..."

He smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling,"No need to thank me," he insisted. "We all go through tough times, and sometimes we just need a helping hand. If there's anything else I can do, please don't hesitate to ask."

He took the suitcase from your hand and turned around, walking towards his house. "Let's go," he said, looking back at you.

You nodded and followed after him.

NEXT

[kpopnstarwars]

Warriors: Choi San x Reader

A/N: ohh boyyy after the kpop fanfic drought im back and it's with warriors au choi san

Summary: San and Reader are mages, which means they are made to serve. They are lowborn, destined to obey humans - the nobles and the highborn - with their every breaths. What if they don't want that?

tw: 18+, smut (p in v, fingering, cockwarming sort of), swearing, violence, death, blood, minimally gory at one point, war, child soldiers (14 yo), society is a shit place to be if you're a mage, tons of worldbuilding, assassins, freaking bath sex, hint at sa at one point from some dude we hate, san is kind of a brat tamer, seonghwa cameo but sad, idk if you can tell but i suck at summaries, mention of a harem, mention of slavery

wc: 4.8k

As a child, you watched from afar, waiting for things you could not grasp.

They told you that you were made to serve. They recounted age-old tales, about gods that crafted humans in their divine hands, moulding the mages afterwards to be commanded by their beloved creations. They filled your mind with legends of faithful individuals of your kind who proved their worth with obedience until you wished to be like your forebears.

Back when you were but an infant, you believed it. You knew the two powers that were bestowed upon you by the gods, varying in every mage, were gifts made solely to assist the highborns. In your naivety, you thought the rosy flame cupped in your small, childish palms would be used to warm the nobles in the icy winter, and that you would fulfil your purpose through that, through being of use to them. They had no shame as they informed you you were just a tool forged for following their orders, and you were convinced it was all true - until you met San.

Although you were the one with the ability to summon an inferno, he was always the one with a burning fire in his eyes. Like all mages, he’d been taken from his parents the moment he didn’t need his mother’s milk - he was given as a peace offering from the Hwangso warlord for his control of water: helpful for the upkeep of the crops.

This occurred in the small period of time in which Hwangso, the neighbouring province, was attempting to forge alliances with your province, Neugdae. Soon after, your warlord breached their territory, claiming it as his - you often wondered if the news filtering back from the front lines of a new settlement captured ever affected San.

You met him when he was an eight year old filled with bottled fury too old for his years, and you were a quiet, invisible seven year old. At those tender ages, neither of you had developed your second ability yet, nor had you gotten a taste of the power at your fingertips, but San still held his head high; you remember marvelling at the way he’d make a point of meeting every single noble’s gaze and holding it. He was just a scrawny, sun browned kid back then - nothing like the elegant lethality of the man that he is now.

Every day until you turned fourteen, you toiled beside him. The work was cruel, your supervisors crueller; the sun would beat down on your back as you laboured in the fields, side by side with San as barely a quarter of the way across the settlement, the nobles sheltered beneath their silky parasols, boasting their pale, porcelain skin. Back then, San never spoke of the injustice of it all out loud, but something about the look in his eyes when he saw them swanning past stirred something inside you. He made you realise that you were not the soulless, mindless puppet that you’d been told you were, but a person.

It wasn’t simply the rage inside him that drew you to him, though. It was the way he remained sweet, kind, despite it all, making sure to send licks of cool mist down your neck when your supervisors weren’t looking, nicking extra crumbs of food for you and remaining beside you, a beacon of light that anchored you to sanity even in the dark.

Even when, you at fourteen, him fifteen, were sent out into battle.

There were always skirmishes between neighbouring warlords: a constant push and pull for more land, more resources, more power. They would attack on a whim - mages were expendable, nothing more than canon fodder; behind each squadron was a noble who would hang back behind the lines, commanding, unbothered by the bloodshed because it was the blood of mere tools.

By then, both you and San had developed your second abilities. San’s was the ability to manipulate shadows, turning them into almost solid shapes that could physically hinder attacks by forming daggers or clutching hands, or could temporarily block the world out in a shroud of rolling black fog. Yours was the art of shapeshifting; you let the outline of your body flicker between forms, changing into powerful, deadly creatures whose substance was inhabited by the soul of a wavering teenager.

You’d known that you’d be forced to fight since you were young, but you never could have imagined the brutality of war.

It was there, in the midst of the battlefield, that any lingering innocence was burned from your soul. You learned that San’s water did not just bring life, but could also fill up someone’s lungs until they drowned upon dry ground, that your fire was not just a source of warmth or light, but could also combust a man’s heart within his chest, that the animals you were teaching yourself to shapeshift into could maul and break bones.

Many nights, you would fall asleep, curled against San, your face buried in his side with his arm wrapped around you, the taste of blood still in your mouth from where you’d torn your enemies’ throat out with the vicious canines of a tiger or the needle sharp fangs of a lynx. You would leave the front lines soaked with crimson, the essence of other people in your hair, smeared on your face, caked and drying under your nails.

It terrified you, how easily you could slice their flesh open with your claws. Armour was not wasted on mages, only generals, so just like you, all they wore were roughly woven tunics tied at the waist and trousers - you met no resistance when you killed your own kind, silent apologies on your lips.

Within the squadrons were also humans that had fallen from grace - criminals who still felt entitled enough by their birthright to think they could have a fourteen year old mage’s body; San protected you until you could protect yourself. In the first few weeks, when the punches he threw were too weak to deter them, he would let them beat him, giving you time to escape before returning to you, limping, lip split and nose bloody but the fire in his eyes never faltering.

On those nights, tears of frustration would leak from the corners of your eyes as you cleaned him up. He could so easily stop them if he used his abilities, but by then doing that without being instructed to do so by a highborn would lead to a flogging or a beating - fairytales no longer worked on you at that age, so your commanders and generals utilised fear mongering instead. You remember the hate and helplessness burning inside you when you looked at them: if all the mages rebelled at once, the nobles would have no chance, but everyone was too scared. Using your abilities on humans only led to execution.

You remember Seonghwa: he was a mage a few years older who cared for you and San as if you were his blood. He got too strong - you can’t recall his second ability but his first meant he could push a man over the brink of insanity, until he frothed at the mouth and his brain boiled within his skull. When you first witnessed the depth of his power, you were originally struck by the pain in Seonghwa’s eyes, and then by the fear in your commander’s.

The next day, Seonghwa was gone.

Often, you wonder if he fought back, or if he just let them kill him.

After, you made San promise that he wouldn’t show them if his powers developed further. He made you promise the same, and when you fought beside him, he was a constant reminder to reign yourself in, to survive. You were more careful with your powers from then on.

Some nights, though, when the frost ridden night air cut right through the ragged material of your blanket, you huddled next to San and lit a small fire in your hands. He’d tell you to stop, and you’d point out that he was shivering; he’d reply that he’d rather that than get you caught, and you would ignore him, not missing the way he tucked himself closer to the flame.

You didn’t tell him, but sometimes you would shift into a small animal, like a raccoon, and steal food for him in the dead of night. You didn’t answer when he asked you where you got it from, just shrugging and thrusting the rolls of bread and strips of dried meat into his hands, telling him he should eat.

When you were sixteen, San discovered he could animate his shadows. He could mould them like clay in his hands, breathing purpose into them - they would disintegrate within about a week or so, their outlines fading until they dissolved into nothing. San shaped a little dragon for you, the length of your forearm and the width of one of your thumbs; he came to you with it cupped in his hands, awe limning his face as the two of you watched it wriggle through the air between you and coil itself around your wrist.

You have many memories of those times, but one remains crystal clear, even to this day. A year onwards from San’s dragon, you found yourself hemmed in by enemy forces, your body tired from the fight - victory was so close for your side, and because of it, the Hwangso fought even harder, like cornered animals. If you broke through them, you would have been able to easily end their commander, but they had you, six to one. Hands closed around your throat, choking, and as the consciousness bled from you, you heard San’s cry, smelt the fear in the air as he tore through them to get to you: that in itself would have been insignificant - you had saved each other countless times through the years - but he had disobeyed a direct command.

He’d been told to kill the commander. He’d had a clear shot, and even still, he’d ignored orders, choosing to save you instead.

Both of you were beaten for it, and even as you heard the sound of San’s ribs cracking, he held your eyes, silently telling you that he’d do it over and over again, if only to keep you with him.

You think that was the moment when the two of you truly got a taste for rebellion. It was the point in the long, winding thread of your life that made you realise that whatever they told you, you would disregard it if it were for San. Their words no longer had as much power over you, because you knew your bond with him was infinitely stronger than any fear they attempted to instil within you.

Soon after that incident, your commander retired, and he was replaced by a man who was more of a fool than him. You began to lose land to Hwangso’s troops, far enough that the settlement where you grew up in was ravaged, razed to the ground. Your commander informed you that you’d evacuate the highborns, leaving the child mages and the servants behind because they would only slow you down - that was the moment you decided to stop listening to him.

The last mage rebellion had been decades ago - they were not ready. It was pathetic how easy it was to overthrow them; together with the rest of the troops and the mages from the settlement, you rebuilt the town and fortified it. San treated his soldiers with respect, with loyalty, and they loved him for it, for the way he would march into battle with them instead of cowering at the rear, for the way he could often be seen in the newly restored fields, watering the crops, for the way he recognised them for who they were.

To this day, you’re in awe of it. Never in your whole life have you come close to anything but fear for a leader, and yet you see it clear in their eyes that they love San, and that he loves them. He is everything that the highborns fear - a powerful, confident mage, wreathed in righteous shadows, fiercely intelligent, a master of strategy.

One of his first moves was to ally himself with the Hwangso warlord, the very man who had given him as a gift to your province. Deep in the highborn’s eyes was the presumption that he could break San and make him yield, followed a month later by pure terror when you held a knife to his neck, hissing to never speak of San like that again. The two of you brought his head in a sack to Hwangso and claimed your rule over the province.

That didn’t mean it was easy, though. There were the nights when San would tremble in your arms, baring his fears to you, his doubts - that it was getting too much too fast: that maybe he really was just made to follow orders. You scoffed at that - you’d seen him grow up, watched his shoulders broaden and his figure fill out with muscle, you’d seen the fire in his eyes blazing with passion; you knew he’d always be more than enough.

You’re not sure when the love blossomed between the two of you. Maybe it was always there, first shown as fierce protectiveness, later as searing kisses where no one could see, of fingers laced with yours in the dark of night. He married you shortly after he began to be recognised as an actual warlord, not a rogue mage; it was a quiet ceremony, but the celebrations of your people were far from that - rumours of the Neugdae province’s mage warlord and his wife rippled like wildfire through the regions, stirring fear and hope alike.

Some wonder why San does not take more wives - he has control over the Baem province as well Neugdae and Hwangso now, and any warlord with that much power would take on a harem without blinking. Not San, though - he’s different from them, he is a mage, a lowborn, his bronzed skin a sign to them of his childhood in the fields, and they find he is an enigma, as is his mystery shrouded right hand man.

But not to you - you understand him as if you share a soul.

On the surface, you are his only wife, aloof and coldly beautiful. In the shadows, you are his sword, his hand. There are myths of you, of the fire wielding ghost that robes itself in a black cowl and changes its skin into a man’s worst nightmare; stories of how you will twist your victim’s thoughts around until he finds the tip of a blade poking out of his chest, speared right through his back. It’s how you prefer to operate - they fear the unknown, and you are the unknown.

The fabric of the bag held in your fingers is soaked with blood. Within it is the head of the Yong province’s advisor. He was an awful man who deserved what you gave him - in a locked room at the back of his house, you found several young mages, half starved and chained by wrist and ankle to each other and a hook set in the wall. Bile bites at the back of your throat at the thought: you’re lucky you never experienced the uglier side of mage slavery.

Night is falling, the sun casting long shadows down the road. You always find the darkness comforting - it feels as if San is near. Today he is; you raise your fist and knock thrice on the solid wood of the gates, lifting your hand in recognition of the guards who peek over the turrets.

Slowly, they ease open the doors, and you stride into the courtyard, your boots clicking against the roughly hewn pavings. A squadron of your soldiers are sparring, but they halt their training when you enter, snapping to attention as you stop at the centre of the space, the dying rays of the sun streaming down the steps towards you, the air still as you wait.

He appears, his gilded silhouette glorious at the top of the stairs. His shadow guards spill down the steps towards you as he descends; their bodies contort and bend, the swirling mass of them parting around you, liquid night, jaws snapping, circling you until you’re surrounded.

A smirk pulls at your lips, and you throw the bag at his feet. You do not bow low, simply dipping your chin as he extracts the head from the sack, inspecting it and nodding before returning it to its roughly woven grave and handing it to one of his shadows to take away. Meeting your eyes, his own filled with amusement, the hint of a smile flashes over his face.

‘Welcome home, my love.’

San’s words are soft, voice quiet enough for only you to hear. You suppress the urge to pull down your mask and kiss him, instead letting your fingers brush against his as you walk with him up the steps and into the hanok; his shadows close the door behind you and the moment they do, he hooks an arm around your waist and hugs you tight, his embrace warm and sweet as always.

You laugh. ‘I was only gone four days, Sannie.’

‘Four days too long for me to be separated from my wife,’ he replies, pushing your cowl back so he can kiss your forehead.

Gripping his shoulders, you tug him down so you can peck his lips before sending him out to the courtyard again - you’re the last person expected through the gates tonight, so he should go out and dismiss the mages training in the courtyard so they can go home to their families and lock up. A happy sigh leaves you as you toe off your shoes, walking through your home and stripping off your bloody clothes before submerging yourself in the pool sunken in the floor. San has already filled it with fresh water, and it takes you mere seconds to heat it up with your fire.

Leaning with your head against the wooden ledge of the pool, you let your muscles loosen, half closing your eyes. The silence doesn’t last long, though - there’s a soft, steady noise coming from the screen behind you, almost like… breathing.

‘Show yourself,’ you command into the still air.

A man steps into view - a human, eyes crazed, knife clutched in his fingers. You realise he does not know who you really are; he just assumes you are the mage warlord San’s wife, delicate and helpless, and you let that role engulf you, backing away to the other edge of the pool with your eyes wide, luring him closer.

‘Your man took everything from me,’ he spits, blade pointed at you as he stalks forward. ‘He took my power, my wealth, my squadron of soldiers. And now I will take his wife.’

Surging out of the pool, you dodge the swipe he aims at you, sending fire surging down the knife’s handle so he drops it with a cry and twisting his arm behind his back in the most painful way possible, wrenching him down to his knees with his face an inch above the water.

‘How did you get in?’ You ask coolly.

‘I’ll never tell y - ’

You send tongues of flame licking down his ribs. ‘Answer the question or suffer.’

The door eases open, revealing San. His eyes land on you, water dripping down your body as you pin the man to the floor, then the distorted reflection from the blade of the knife that’s fallen into the pool, and something dangerous flashes inside his gaze. You let him grab your attacker by the front of his shirt, lifting him off his feet as he brings him face to face with him; you see San’s jaw clench, his hands balling into fists.

‘How fucking dare you try to come anywhere near my wife,’ he growls, shadows coalescing behind him.

You can tell he’s about to say something else, but he stops as the man, trembling and fruitlessly clawing at San’s fingers, wets himself. Your husband’s lip curls in disgust, and he drops him at your feet, pressing him down onto his knees and yanking his head up so he is forced to look up at you. Bending down, you breathe in the sheer fear permeating the air, a soft smile on your face.

‘Now, answer the question.’

‘You’re not his wife,’ he whispers, pale.

‘Oh, but I am,’ you sneer. ‘But that’s not the only role I occupy.’

Slowly, his face drains of colour, horror rippling across it as it slowly dawns on him. He recoils in San’s grasp, scrabbling at the floor in a sorry attempt to put distance between you; he has finally realised who you are and he acts like fucking coward, his mouth gaping wide in a silent plea. Unhurried, you fish the knife out from the pool, twirling it around your thumb before gliding it gently over the skin of his throat.

‘I’m getting impatient.’

‘I - I - the guards, they were distracted upon your arrival, I snuck in at the southern perimeter, please don’t - ’

His words dissolve into a weak gurgle when you slice open his throat. Blood gushes from the seams of the wound, dribbling from his lips, and you step back as he tips forward, landing with a wet thump face first on the wooden floor. Glancing up at San, you sigh before getting back in the pool. One of his shadows carries the body away and your husband tugs his clothes off and slides into the water beside you, pulling you into his chest.

‘He did not hurt you, I presume?’

You snort. ‘He tried.’

San’s fingers run thoughtfully up and down your arm. ‘I’ll talk to the guards. I probably shouldn’t have put Jisung on dusk duty while he was recovering from that fever.’

You nod but don’t answer, instead pressing a kiss to his collarbone. He hums, tipping his head back to give you more access as you mouth at his skin, letting your palms wander over his shapely chest, grip his broad shoulders, skim his waist; you trace the many scars all over his body, and he allows you to, his strong hands gripping your hips when you settle in his lap.

He curses low at the feel of your teeth sinking into the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, his hips jerking upwards, and you both groan at the sensation of the underside of his cock grazing your clit. Smirking, you let your tongue lave over the spot where you bit, pressing a kiss to his jaw and pulling back as his hands tighten their grip on your ass.

‘Missed you too, Sannie. Good to know how much you missed me.’

‘So fucking bratty,’ he hisses.

A thrill shoots through you as he stands, the water sluicing in rivulets down the planes of his chest, lifting you and laying you on the edge of the pool, pinning your knees to the wood and spreading you open. The crude way he looks at you is all consuming, his eyes surveying you from where he stands with the water to his mid thigh, watching as your pussy clenches at the sight of him towering over you.

San remains there, just looking at you, and you curve your spine, almost whining in attempt to make him touch you without you asking for it. His lips quirk to the side as you squirm, trying to inch your hips down so you can grind against him, but his fingers tighten on you, refusing you.

‘What is it you require of me, love?’

Finding your attempts unsuccessful, you huff, glaring at him. He loves to do this, make you articulate exactly what you want from him - he likes the flush that heats your cheeks, your body still shy even after all your years with him, he likes the breathy noises you make when he forces you to tell him just what you desire when all you can think of is his dick, he likes it when you can’t  help but beg him.

‘Y - your fingers,’ you mumble. ‘And your cock.’

‘Say that louder for me, sweetheart, I didn’t catch the last bit.’

‘Your fingers and your fucking cock,’ you snap - a sorry endeavour at trying to hide how much you love when he inflicts this upon you.

San raises an eyebrow, not moving to touch you. Waiting.

‘Please,’ you add.

He smiles. ‘There we go. Wasn’t so hard, was it?’

Your mouth opens to retort, but he slips his fingers inside you, and your back bows, a soft moan leaving your lips as he sweeps his thumb over your clit, his other hand palming your breasts, his tongue dragging over your skin. Burying your hands in his hair, you tug, making him groan low and deep as you pull him closer.

Delectably, his fingers curl, and you ache for him. San has ruined you for anyone else, he is branded onto your soul and also your body, fading marks from your last time together still slightly visible on your throat - a necklace of love bites, laying claim to you. He catches your chin as he brings you closer to the edge, tasting your moans on his tongue, grinding his palm against your clit.

You keen, coming hard around him, chest heaving, and he smirks, holding your waist as shudders wrack your legs from the aftershocks. The fire in his eyes burns ever brighter, so hot you feel your stomach go molten - your hands tighten on his shoulders, nails raking over his back, your tongue unable to form anything other than his name.

‘You’re always so willing to behave once your pussy’s full, hm?’

‘No, I,’ you start, but cry out when he pinches your clit in warning, the muscles of your thighs jumping as it lances through you, white hot. ‘Y - yes, yes, I am, please - ’

In one fluid movement, San buries himself inside you, sheathing himself until his hips kiss yours. Catching you wrists in his hand, he pins them above your head, and your back arches as he pulls out, agonisingly slowly, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging on your walls before slamming back in, tearing a cry of his name from your chest. Tugging your legs up from where they were wrapped around his waist, he hooks your knees over his shoulders - the new angle makes you sob, writhing beneath him as his cock head drives into perfection, drives you to euphoria.

Sometimes, San makes love to you, but not tonight: tonight he fucks into you mercilessly, traces of possessiveness lacing his actions as he litters your skin with bites, his hands leaving exquisite bruises on your hips. Pleasure tears through you like an arrow through your heart, white hot and maddening, ravenous.

‘You fit around my cock so well,’ he pants. ‘Like you were made for me, sweetheart.’

Something snaps inside you at his words, and as if he senses it, San presses his thumb down hard on your clit, speeding up his thrusts until the air is punched from your lungs. Stars flash before your eyes, and your mouth falls open, toes curling as you come on his cock, your cunt convulsing around him, thighs twitching; he doesn’t stop, just continues ploughing into you, and you tremble, tears slipping down your cheeks at the relentless pound of his hips into yours.

With a gasp, he pulls out and comes over your stomach, his wide shoulders rising and falling with heaving breaths, and you groan as he eases you back into the warm water, a hand cupping the back of your neck as he tucks your head under his chin, sliding his softening cock into you again. Wrapping your arms around him, you press a kiss to his jaw and rest your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

‘How do you feel, my love?’

You nuzzle your face into his shoulder. ‘Good. Really fucking good.’

He laughs, and you bask in the sound of his happiness and the comfort of his warm skin against yours. San’s hands run up and down your spine, soothing, and you smile sleepily; you are home, reunited with your other half, the missing part of your soul.

With San, you are complete.

[froggoon]

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She's my Angel: Meet the Family Pt.2 I Five Hargreeves x Reader

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Post Apocalypse Au! pt.1

WC: ~2,709

Warnings/Tags: fluff, Allusions to sex, Mentions of Abuse, Agedup!Five, Mentions of previous trauma

Summary: The Umbrella Academy saved the world, the Commission is no longer after them, the moon is in one piece and everyone’s lives start to fall back into place. Five attempts to start his life over again when Klaus brings home a girl with unusual shadow powers.

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Five and you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm that one would think the two of you had known each other for years. You started sleeping in the same bed together, getting ready together, eating together, and spending time together. Your routine had started to fall into place.

Somedays Five would ask you to show him your abilities. He was always astounded at how powerful you were. You could use shadows to teleport, physically manifest, store objects, and create weapons. To the regular person, or to anyone like his deceased father, these powers would intimidate them, scare them. But Five wasn’t scared of you,. Slowly you had become his Angel. Five found comfort in you, someone who would stick with him while his family scattered after his sacrifices.

“Come on Angel, I’m taking you out today.”

“Out?” You tilted your head.

“Yes like…a date” he blushed. He was wearing a white button-up shirt and black slacks, the shirt was pressed clean with no wrinkles, and the top 3 buttons were undone.

“Go put on your prettiest dress and some nice shoes.” He kissed the top of your head and watched you run off. Anyone who could see the two of you could see his adoration for you. You lived up to your nickname being a small beacon of light in his dark mind.

Despite your growing "relationship" Five still had his worries. It had been 2 weeks since he met you and he wasn’t any closer to finding who had taken you or figuring out your true identity. He had only know a few things from what you told him.

You had grown up in a lab isolated from everyone. The only way of understanding the outside world was through tv and books that a kind doctor had let you before he met an unfortunate end, not that you knew about that. He also learned about the environment you grew up in by your reactions. You hated loud noises, didn’t understand cultural norms, and feared violence and abuse. Knowing this, Five learned to adjust to your needs. He wanted to take care of you and help you. You had become his new family. Maybe it was obsession but it was feeling like love.

You came bouncing down the steps of the academy in a light blue dress with puffy sleeves and a soft ballerina like skirt. The neckline was square and above your cleavage was a gold heart necklace that Five had bought you on your last outing to the mall.

“Beautiful?” You looked at him and twirled.

“Very beautiful amore.” He kissed your cheek and led you out. As the two of you were about to leave the door opened revealing Viktor.

Viktor was in town having just gotten back from a trip to Italy and decided to stop by the academy.

“Oh Five! Who’s this? I came to check on you since you didn’t answer any of my calls.”

Oops well he wasn’t wrong. Five had ignored all Vitkors calls. It wasn’t out of spite it just felt like every-time he talked to his family he had to put on a front. He didn’t need therapy, didn’t want help, and was fine without them. But talking to them felt almost condescending and a very small part of him still harbored a grudge for them all leaving.

“Uh this is Angel. Klaus brought here and left her here so I’ve been taking care of her. We were just about to go out.”

“Angel!” You pointed to yourself.

“Viktor… Five’s family?”

Five sighed when he looked at you. So innocent , unaware to the trauma in his heart. “Yes this is my brother.”

“Brother.” You tested the word out loud.

“Brother!” You pointed to Five.

“No no not I’m not your brother.” Five shot down. He could see the tears in your eyes forming. “I’m sorry Angel, yes we are… family but I am not your brother okay? I’m your friend.”

Your eyes lit up at that notion. You were aware of what friendship was, there was a nice doctor in the facility who had befriended you and taught you all you knew about human interaction until… he met an unfortunate end, not that you knew about that though.

You jumped into Five wrapping your arms around his neck and burrowing your face in his shoulder.

Brown eyes made contact with green and Five felt uneasy in his brother's judgmental gaze. Before Viktor could get out another word Five blinked the two of you to the car. Standing in the doorway Viktor turned to look back at you guys. He was happy his brother had found someone, but you seemed off. He walked into the parlor and whipped out his phone to send a text to the family group chat. Viktor: Did you know Five got a girlfriend? He said Klaus brought her one day and left her. They just went out all dressed up. Allison: No way Diego: Finally that old timer can get some Lila: Who would let that little gremlin near them? Viktor: @Klaus how did you meet Angel. Klaus: On the street. Everyone mentally cringed at the thought of Klaus picking up a girl "off the street" Klaus: She ran into me and was in bad shape, She's super cute though! I knew she and little Five would get along, I'm going to go visit them tonight. Allison: I want to see her! Im coming too Diego: Me and Lila are coming too. Luther: I guess I'm coming as well. Viktor closed out his phone and began walking around the academy. It hadn't been too long since the world was almost destroyed but this place was riddled with mixed memories of sadness but also happiness in which he and his family had finally come together.

His eyes ran over the painting of Five above the mantle. Over his travels, he often thought about Five, but not at first. Initially, he was overjoyed with traveling, meeting people, and developing a few relationships, but his thoughts began to wander back to Five. The boy who had leaped across time, and had worked his ass off to get back to his family only for them to all leave again. It made him feel guilty every time he talked to Five over the phone only to get short responses. His thoughts went back to reminiscing. Five and Vitkor were closest when they were younger, Viktor even remembers the small crush he had on the boy as a kid. Five was cocky, arrogant, and thought to be better than everyone. But the way he looked at Angel had a softness that could rival a field of flowers. The fact he had let her touch him had given Viktor enough information to assume that you had helped Five for the better. ————————-On your date———————— Five had taken you first to a cute little dinner a bit out of the city. You two sat in a booth on the same side. He was a little confused when you sat next to him but decided against saying anything when you grabbed his hand under the table. The waiter came to take your orders, his name was Alek. He looked at you mostly with a predatory glint in his eyes. "What can I get for the pretty lady here?" He winked at you. You laughed and blushed before saying "Pasta!" Pasta was a favorite of yours. Five and you had made pasta together from scratch one night and it was one of your favorite moments with him. You remembered making the sauce together, him flicking some onto your face before kissing it off with his lips. He had looked so good kneading the dough and showing you how to make the sauce and noodles. It ended happily with you in his bed. Five also knew this was your favorite dish and why. It only made his heart beat for you more. Breaking the waiter's attention off you Five stood up and pushed Aleks chest back. "And I'll have the steak, rare I like it a little bloody, and bring us back a milkshake to share, strawberry." Five sat back while glaring at the waiter. Who did this guy even think he was anyway, he literally saw Five walk in with you. Before he could think anything else, his attention was pulled away when your hand traced his jaw.

"Prickly. Ouch." You ran your finger back and forth over his cheek. Five had been growing some facial hair recently.

"What princess? You don't like?" Five rubbed his face against yours while listening to the melodic laughter erupt from your lips. Alek came back with your meals and milkshake avoiding eye contact with you and Five. Excited for your food you kissed Five's cheek as a way to thank him. The two of you ate your food in comfortable silence and shared the milkshake, occasionally laughing when both of you reached for the straw at the same time.

————————-After your date————————

You and Five had left the dinner with full bellies and even fuller hearts. Hand in hand he led you to the street. "let's talk a walk, we need to digest all that food and I know a park nearby that you'll enjoy." "Okay!" you agreed. You had begun to trust Five with... everything in this short time. He cared for you and showed you how to cook, clean, and use a phone. You were growing to love him, not that you knew what love was. As the two of you came closer to the park your eyes lit up seeing the families and children running around and enjoying the warm summer day. Your expression made Five's heart beat faster. Your innocence and kindness were a nice contrast to his years of killings and suffering. Five led the two of you to a bench that looked out to the grassy playground. You leaned your head on his shoulder and let out a sign. You finally felt at peace. No electric chair, no pointy syringes, just the warmth of Five's hand in yours and the smell of his cologne. Five looked down at you staring out into the park. He felt lucky, how could someone like you just fall into his lap when he needed it most. A thought crossed his mind, what would happen if you remembered who you were, would you leave him? The last time he was in a relationship was with a mannequin. But this was different, you needed him just as much as he needed you. He pushed those thoughts aside when he watched your eyes close. He nudged your side "Come on Angel its been a long day lets get you home." Lazily you both stood up and walked back to the car not dare letting go of each others hands.

————————-At the Academy————————

Five was on high alert as the two of you arrived back at the Academy. The lights were on in the den and he could hear hushed voices as he approached. Opening the door he was met with 3 people, backs turned towards him. He instantly recognized these figures as his siblings, Diego, Luther, and Allison. Peaking around them he saw three more, Viktor, Klaus, and Lila. "Well, this is an unexpected visit," Five stated breaking the uncomfortable silence. The trio looked at each other before Allison spoke up. "We wanted to check up on you, we haven't heard from you in a while." She looked at you behind Five, "Is this uh your girlfriend?" Five's eyes narrowed at Viktor in the corner before sighing. "She's not my girlfriend, this is Angel, I've been taking care of her since Klaus brought her here."

"I'm not Five's friend." You looked up at him, tears forming in your eyes. "No, shit I'm sorry Angel, yes you are my friend you are more than my friend." His expression softened when you wrapped his arms around his neck once again to kiss his cheek. The rest of the superpowered bunch looked in awe. Their normally cocky and arrogant brother hadn't snapped at you or yelled at you. He was gentle and reassuring. Lila was the one to speak up next to Viktor "Wow the old man finally found someone." Ignoring Lila's statement Allison continued, "Wait Klaus brought her here?" Klaus surprisingly not sober, stood up. "Yeah she ran into me all banged up so I brought her to the one place I knew could fix her up. She's got powers like us!" The family turned to you and Five once more expecting you to demonstrate. Hesitating Five looked at you "Okay Angel, show them what we have been practicing." You nodded to Five before raising your hands. In an instant, shadows rose from the ground to the ceiling of the room, suffocating any light that had been previously there. Your hands swirled causing the shadows to form a vortex. You thew your fists down bringing the shadows to your side. One arm lifted up across your chest as you threw it to the opposite area, effectively slicing a potted plant in half. Your eyes glistened with pride as you looked to Five. "I did it!" You jumped into his open arms as Five twirled you around with joy. "I knew you could do it princess!" Luther who was silent in the beginning spoke up next. "So you just found her on the street and she has powers? We don't even know her she could be dangerous then! She could be Commission!" Being number one and the head of the family was difficult for Luther. He was always overprotective of his siblings and made hasty rash decisions believing that he knew what was best for everyone. But Five remembers what happened when Viktor was discovered to have powers and he was hell-bent on not repeating it again. Five paused before turning to you and blinking you upstairs. He had tucked you in and helped you into bed before kissing the corner of your lips. "Good night darling, let me talk to my family for a bit, and I'll join you okay?" "Okay Five, good night" And with one last glance at you he blinked back downstairs. "Trust me Luther I would know if she was commission or not, when she got here she could barely talk and didn't even know her own name!" "I've spent the last 2 weeks trying to figure out where she came from. All I know is that she was brought up in a lab that focused on human experimentation to try to recreate the original 43." "You can't...You honestly can't possibly imagine, the pain she has gone through. And let's not forget what happened the last time you tried to "help" a person who had just gained their powers." Five looked over at Viktor. Viktor couldn't help but look at his lap. "Five is right, let's give her a chance. She is obviously doing well under Five's care and he cares for her back." Five looked appreciative at Viktor although he was the one who originally ratted him and you to the family. "I know you guys haven't heard from me in a while, but trust me I'm doing fine. Let's... go out for breakfast tomorrow. I know a place that we all would like. Meet back here at 9am. I'm going to check on Angel and head to bed." And with that, he disappeared in a flash of blue. The Hagreeves siblings looked at each other in shock. Never had their brother been the first to reach out to spend time, it must be important to him. Diego walked towards and grabbed Lila's hand "Well I'm happy for the guy, it was about time he got some. See you all tomorrow." He waved to his siblings and headed out. The others slowly followed suit each one of them that night laid in bed thinking about the events that had transpired and mentally prepared for a family breakfast the next day.

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Author's note: I had actually finished this before Tumblr decided to not save anything and I lost half the story T-T I was really good too. I tried to rewrite it the best I could. Taglist: @groovydazephantom

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

Prof. Xiao-Long AU Concept

Note this one is way longer since it did in fact win the polls

Yang Xiao freaking Long was just what her name would suggest XL, bigger then life, the center of attention and life of the party! She was arguably the toughest gal to step through Beacon’s doors. At worst she was tied with her partner Glyn.

They were the strongest duo, Glynda’s ability to bullshit just about everything with her telekinesis and Yang packing enough raw strength to shatter boulders with just a punch. Heck, they were the two time Vytal Festival Winners of Beacon’s Golden era, Even STRQ came second to them.

And that team had her brother Taiyang in it, okay, true it did have the clearance sell, looking knock off of her too, Raven definitely dragged them down… No, she was not pissed at the bandit at all, nope, not a single inch of rage for abandoning her team, leaving her brother broken hearted, she totally didn’t spend months tracking her down and wrecking every member of the Branwen tribe’s shit that she could.

Well regardless she’d gotten over that who issue with her brother’s team, graduated, spent a few years living the dream, journeying around Remnant, helping people, exploring, just outright enjoying freedom. Life had been good. But eventually she got bored of it, bored of it, turns out Yang wasn’t for the lone wanderer shtick, didn’t live up to the hype…

It got lonely, and then her brothers wife died… Summer, Summer disappeared and Tai went into a depression. him remaining teammate Qrow tried, but he could only do so much, and she knew he was avoiding spending a lot of time with them cuz of his semblance the idiot. So she made her decision without hesitation, Yang starting crashing at her brother’s place and helping him with Ruby while beating the depression outta him.

And thankfully Glyn had a job she could work, a Professor at Beacon, she tried to get one at Signal but in her partner’s own words “That School already has to Suffer One Xiao-Long, why would you curse them with two.” And hence begun her domestic life as the stand-in mom for her adorable silver-eyed niece. And Yang realized she was freaking Maternal has all hell! Like Whoa, the amount of times people assumed she was Rube’s mom was scary, and not just cuz it implied she was banging her brother.

And hey, she was a pretty great teacher too, sure she was really more a couch, and every once in a blue mom stand in for Port but hey when she did the students were a heck of a lot more invested in her telling them about her past glory. It had nothing to do with her love of high cut tee’s she swore, she was just that charismatic.

Life was good…

-0-0-0-

LIFE WAS NOT GOOD!!!! She Was Gonna Murder Thos Little Turds! Few Things were as precious to Yang as her hair, and they, her students had abused her trust! She could understand a pulling pranks, heck she still pulled them on her fellow teachers. But The Fuck! CUT SOMEONE HAIR WHEN THEY SLEPT!!!

Beacon was starting up in several weeks! And she was gonna have to show her face now! With her hair like this!

Oh She Wasn’t Fooled For A Fucking Second!!!

This Had Bitch Written All Over It! It had to be those girls who’d been giving her the stink eyed just cuz the boys she taught couldn’t pull their eyes off their bombshell of a teacher! Or Maybe it was one of those douchebag students she put in their place when she caught them claiming they’d bed her.

The fact of the matter was she didn’t technically have concrete evidence of who it was, all she did know was when she went to bed she was fine and when she woke up she felt horrifyingly light. Her beautiful locks of golden magnificent hair scattered across the ground. All she saw after that was red, too bad her partner was there otherwise she could’ve slaughtered the perpetrator, true she would’ve ended up killing a few innocent students, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, and were they really innocent if they just sat there and let such a tragedy happen!

They were lucky her partner Glynda was there to restrain her with several dozen times gravity being forced down upon her. And now here she was in Vale, already on her fourth group of A-Grade assholes clobbered for trying to pick up a red-eyed and incredibly pissed off Yang.

She stopped before it, a salon, one Ozpin had recommended, and one whose life and current state of function was on the line. Because if even an inch more of her remaining beautiful hair was ruined there would be hell to pay.

On the plus side they all seemed to know who she was, a negative is that that also meant every stylist was hesitant to do said firey dragon’s hair. She couldn’t blame them but if someone didn’t hike up their skirt and do something soon she’d-

“Ma’am, th-this way please, our new hire offered to do you hair.” Her eye twitched, a new hire, what the hell, she was ready to tear into him before a voice cut in.

“Hey can you calm down please, your kinda scaring everyone.” She blinked before looking up and meeting eyes with a fellow blonde. A guy around her student’s age, one who was standing up, facing her down with a stern look.

Your scaring the kids her with their parents, she noticed that in fact he was right as she saw some kids looking at her and backing away. And… She suddenly felt terrible. And when she went lack she heard it, a relieved exhale leave her fellow blonde, looking his way she met the boy’s gaze and felt a bit embarrassed.  Leave it to her to go and get worked up and have a kid around her niece age tell her off.

The boy examined her, or to be more precise her hair and she saw his eyes narrow with recognition.

“Prank gone wrong?” She growled.

“No, I think it went just how those little shits wanted it to.” He blinked before shaking his head.

“Well then guess they could count their lucky stars they didn’t do that to a sister of mine or they wouldn’t live to regret it.” That made her smile.

“Oh trust me, I intend to do just that.” The blonde chuckled, shaking his head.

“Well hopefully not with your hair like that you won’t, kinda hard to instill fear in them while their laughing at the result of their prank. C’mon, let’s fix that.” Turning her made his way to a chair, expecting her to follow as he walked confidently to it. She blinked again, well, the new guy was definitely interesting, few people had it in them to sass her while her hair was so much as touched let alone ruined like this.

“Hey you just gonna stand there and gawk or do you want me to fix your hair.” She couldn’t help it, nobody talked about touching her hair.

“If you mess it up I’ll mess you up blondie.” Instead of the usual whimper or retreat the blonde boy… smiled?

“’Snort’ You sound just like my sis Beryl, relax, I have experience with styling long, blonde fine hair okay, your in good hands.” She rose brow, but slowly started to make her way to him. Noticing a picture of a boy and seven girls stuck up in his station.

“Whoa, is that you with all your cousins or something?” He laughed.

“Sisters actually, and I’ve done each of their hairs more times then I can count.” Okay, she was willing to risk it, at the very least the kid had experience. So she plopped herself down and let him do his magic… Okay so she might’ve had to stop herself once or twice from decking him when he touched her hair.

But hey his small talk took her mind off it, heck she only threatened him once when he pulled out the clippers. The boy seemed totally in his element. They talked about tons while he worked his magic, washing, shampooing and clipping her hair.

Eventually she begun asking how long he’d been doing this, she was surprised when he admitted this was his third and last week at the place. Something about needing extra money and having picked up several jobs before he hopefully got into his dream school. She couldn’t get much more details outta him, the boy was very cagey about it.

Finally thought he moment of truth came out and she saw… A pretty good looking cut, a bit shooter then what she’d come in with but not bad. In fact she was sorta digging it! Huh? Who’d’ve thought she could pull off a short due just as epically as she could a long one.

She grinned the boys way, walked up to him and gave him a full on huge, lifting the blonde up in the air as she did. And suddenly he went from her confident sassy groomer to a flustered, confused mess of a teen as socially awkward as her own niece.

It was honestly kinda endearing, guess he was the sort who just got in the zone when it came to doing their job. Well not like she was gonna complain he was so freaking expressive now it was actually kinda hilarious not to mention a bit adorable. She teased him once or twice, and got the boy to fluster pretty bad before she gave him a big fat tip that hit the triple digits. Hey her hair was a treasure, he earned it in her not so humble opinion.

And so she walked out and made her way back to Beacon, all smiles and snark as usual, much to her fellow staffs relief… Until the next day. Where she realized she couldn’t style her hair the exact way the guy had! Made sense, she never had short hair after all!

She made a mad dash back to that salon… Only to find out he wasn’t working there anymore… WHAT!? She had to all but threaten the boy’s name outta the manager! Yes! She threatened a civilian, but this was important! And she got exactly what she needed, a name.

Jaune Arc.

She rushed to Juniors, needing to use Vale’s best info broker to find out the single most important information in the entire kingdom… Why the hell did he go on about Torchwick and White Fang when she said that. Obviously the info she meant was on the blonde stylist!

He blinked at her, and then asked about the name again… Then went pale. And then called Jaune over, apparently one of the jobs he was working also happened to be here as a bartender. One look at her and he flustered going all red face… Yeah, she did dress up, she was in a club after all, had to look good. Glad to see she still had it, not that it was ever up for debate.

Anyways she had him now, made her demand had him promise to teach her how to do her hair, and until then would have him do it. She’d pay him obviously, she wasn’t a monster, and a guy who could actually style her glorious hair was worth his weight in gold.

He told her she’d have to wait till his break, she was about to drag him off as her waiting simply wasn’t a option, until he offered to give her a free drink, a thanks for the huge tip she gave him yesterday. Well, she was already in Vale so why not… And again he shocked her!

Seriously what had she been drinking up until this point? Cuz it sure as hell wasn’t a Strawberry Sunsrise compared to the one he served her. She was about to ask, but he seemed to pick up on her question and gave the answer of ‘Seven sisters’ which just sorta answered it, guess a few of them liked drinks.

And he was back to being mister focused on his craft, sassy and cool as a cucumber… She just had to mess with him. Wasn’t hard, just a little shake here, a suggestive pun there and a wink or two and the boy went cherry red.

It was the best time she had out in a good minute, and then slowly, things started to relax and she fell into that age old troupe of shooting the breeze her the bartender. Talking about her brother and niece who’d get into Beacon this year and how freaking proud of her she was.

It was great, fun, and she was… tipsy, so maybe when his break came around she chose to drag him to the dance floor for some fun instead of out to do her hair… And once again he surprised her with another skill of his. Jaune Arc, could dance.

He even dared suggest he was better then her… the nerve. She had to prove to him wrong, she just had to. So they spent his whole break dancing, drinking, laughing and just having fun, and one stink eye from her and Junior let her new young buddy take the rest of the night off.

And then everything went dark and she woke up in a bed, naked… Oh no.

Then she realized thank Oum there was no blonde boy right by her, instead her Scroll had a message, saying how he’d taken her to one of junior’s rooms to rest after she’d gotten wasted. And how he swore he left the room when she started to strip…

Yeah, that sounded like her when she got three sheets to the wind, he also sent her a message about how to do her hair. She asked Junior about the blonde but the guy insisted he was just a temporary hire.

-0-0-0-

Well, it was time her baby niece’s first day was upon them! It took everything she had not to charge up grab little ruby up in a huge and completely embarrass her in front of everyone of her potential classmates.

Yang might’ve been wary of Ozpin when he first suggested it but still, she was aiming to enjoy this, to watch her niece, thrive in Beacon, to make a name for herself and have the best experience she cou- And she exploded…

Then some little white haired bitch started hounding her niece! She readied to walk up there and clobber the uppity brat. But before she could the spoiled brat left when some other goth looking chick got in the way. The black themed kid left too, leaving her poor niece all alone looking miserable!

She readied to make way only for the last person she expected to show up.

“Jaune?”

-0-0-0-

She stood with Ozzy and Glyn watching things go down in the emerald forest, watching her niece having the misfortune of teaming up with the bratty Schnee. But there was also someone else who interested her, Jaune Arc, AKA her personal stylist, bartender and clubbing escort to be the next four years of Beacon.

What could she say, the kid was a man of many talents that she very much appreciated. She’d looked his files over, and yep… Guy had fake transcripts, so that’s why he needed all that extra scratch. Still though, considering they had a ex-terrorist in their roster this year she couldn’t view it too negatively, heck Qrow had been a freaking bandit.

Also, the kid really wanted this, I mean guy let Ozzy launch him into the forest… without aura! Yeah that was a shocker, the fact the kid was even willing to fight Grimm with having aura much less knowing what it was spoke volumes to his bravery, stupidity too yes, but mostly bravery. And hey, when the cereal girl herself unlocked it turned out he had a bunch.

Yep this year was shaping up to be a interesting one.

-0-0-0-

Glynda didn’t know what to think of how Yang was acting, given she rarely knew what to do when it came to said brawler, but moreso today the usual, Yang was acting quite perplexing, well more then usual. Focusing on miss Rose she could understand, the woman all but raised the silver-eyed warrior after all. But her interest also seemed to focus on a second individual as well.

Mister Arc, a student she still had doubts about, but who also seemed to gain her partners attention, she sighed for the poor student. She didn’t wish her partner’s teasing on anyone, much less a seemingly easy to fluster first year like him.

Oh well, she supposed sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, a happy or at the very least entertained Xiao-Long mean much less collateral damage for the school and free time for herself. Perhaps she could offer him a bit of favoritism for such a burden, he did have a lot of aura, she supposed she could give him advise on control of it, he’d need it in case her partner ever tried to spare with the poor thing after all.

-0-0-0-

Okay, this was not good, Yang had not expected Jaune to be in Beacon, much less for him to befriend her precious niece and be such good friends with her… What was this kid? He could, do hair, make drinks, dance and could even be a reliable man when the chips were down if him turning back to help against the Deathstalker was any indication.

Seriously, the kid didn’t even have aura for a full hour and yet he turned to face a grimm most huntsman would think twice about facing much less potential first years. And all for some strangers… Yep she didn’t care if his transcripts were real or not, Jaune earned his place in the school with that bit of bravery there.

She nearly laughed when he was declared leader of his team, not cause it was funny, kid was the obvious choose, he was quick the decide, enact and didn’t hesitate. Hell, he had no actual training and yet when the chips were down he lead three people he didn’t even know the name of into battle.

Ozpin would have to be blind not to pick him, at the after party she made her way right to him ready to tease him to high heaven. But instead caught him talking to one of his sisters, well her her wife and… And. AND THE MOST ADORBLE THING SHE’D SEEN SINCE BABY RUBY!!!

Apparently, it was his nephew Adrian! So yeah she sorta cut in and got involved, talked to his sister, baby talked his cute nephew and informed said sister that her little brother was on the fast track to being a kick butt huntsman. What? you didn’t it so many checkmarks with her and not get a few benefits for it. Yang Xiao-Long was the kinda teacher who definitely played favorites, and Jaune Arc was certainly one of them.

-0-0-0-

Yang did not know what to do… Well, that wasn’t true, she knew exactly what she wanted to do, or to be more specific… Who.

How had it come to this!? Seriously, she just didn’t know what to do… Okay, maybe she should back up a sec and explain. So she, Yang Xiao-Long, Huntress extraordinaire, hottest teacher in Beacon (Okay… Maybe Glynda and her were tied) was lowkey crushing on one of her students…

No! It was not Blake! She didn’t get why Port assumed that? Nope, she had found herself thinking of and gioving extra attention to Jaune, yep, Jaune, mister fake it till he made it. HE JUST CHECKED OFF ALL THE THINGS SHE WAS LOOKING FOR IN A GUY!!!

Yeah, she was surprised too, as it turned out, you didn’t need to be a huge giant of muscles like Yatsuhashi or that transfer student Sage. Nope, lean was good too, maybe not Lie Ren lean but a nice in-between. And Jaune Arc hit that sweet spot, heck he was decently built even before Beacon, it was just more like a farmboy than a actual knight. But now, ‘heh’ Yang very much approved his teammate Nora’s insistence on weightlifting.

He was blonde! Which yeah maybe that wasn’t strictly necessary for him to catch her eyes but it didn’t hurt. He got along with her niece, heck he was her first friend in Beacon. And he was brave, something she knew when he turned back to help his team against that Deathstalker during his Initiation.

He proved it again though about a month later when he saved Cardin Winchester against a Ursa Major, now that said a lot about him. While his team ran for their lives Jaune stood his ground and fought to save his bully… the threatened him to not mess with his friends… Yeah, that was when she realized he was on her radar.

More then that he checked off things she didn’t even know she was looking for a guy, he was good with hair (though not his own if that mop of blonde was any indication), dancing drinks, And Oh My God Cooking! The Boy Could Cook! Again Thank Oum For His Sisters and Mom For Forcing Him To Learn Those Glorious Glorious Domestic Skills! But More Then That thank Mama Arc for giving him that ass!

And she was perving on Jaune again… Great. Ugh she needed to settle this already, heck she wasn’t even able to hide it anymore. The Staff totally made fun of her over it even!

But like, she didn’t wanna be all weird, plus the blonde liked the little icy no tit princess, and she was in a mood again… Was she really jealous of a teenager who was built like a ironing board… Yes, yes she was and that more then anything else infuriated her.

Heck he was on a team with Pyrrha-Obvious-Nikos! At least Yang could accept losing to the spartan! Okay… Maybe lose was a bit much. After all if she went for it she would nab that blonde up in a second. So why didn’t she?

Cause, cause she was a teacher… Y-yeah, that was it, totally not because she had cold feet, and never been in a relationship that lasted more then a weekend… Gods Dammit.

And then she stumbled upon it, Jaune and her partner training, Glynda had taken a shine to Jaune, not at first, her partner was pretty peeved about the whole Transcripts thing. But after a few weeks her favorite student (Ruby being the exception) had used his Arc charm on her.

Glyn was a bit softy underneath all that stern strictness of her’s. Wait? Was she… checking him out? Yep, Glyn was focusing pretty hard on her blonde Himbo’s ass… And she was touching him! WAIT WHAT!? Glyn Didn’t Touch People, She didn’t need to with her semblance! Why Would She… OH THAT BITCH!!!

That’s right Glynda had been benefiting from Jaune’s talents as much as she was, actually he was also helping her with paperwork apparently (something about paying her back for the aura control lessons) NO NO NOOO!

She was not losing Jaune To Her Partner and the stick up her ass! Yang never thought of herself as the jealous type but here she was, going into her room and grabbing some of her risqué clothes… Yeah they were pretty old, she at least went up to cup sizes since she last wore this to… Perfect.

Now all she needed was a night to alter them, thank Oum she was used to sewing cause of Ruby. And she was ready, and as she stepped into class, ready to teach unashamed and with a cocky smile on her face she looked to her mark. Jaune Arc much like the other boys in her class was staring just like she wanted him to.

Yep, Yang Xiao-Long might’ve been scared of screwing up, of causing issues for Jaune or more importantly Beacon and the moral implications of a teacher screwing her student, but that all came second, because more then that she refused to lose to anyone. And now that Glynda might be in the competition she wasn’t gonna hold back.

[theold-ultraviolence]

The Loneliest (1/2) • Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: 1925. They say that the Sunfyre Cinema is haunted. Floris, your best friend and neighbor, warns you not to spend all your time there, claiming that a ghost operates the movie projector. Still, The Sunfyre is your home, as you seek comfort to escape the loneliness that marks your days. CW: 1920's au, mixes fictional & historical elements. I envision Westeros as a stand in for the U.K here. The idea of movie projectionist!Aemond came from watching the movie Pearl, although this isn't 100% based on that. Smut will come in part 2. Words: 3k.

1

1925

They say the movie theater in the town of Dorne is haunted. 

They say it belongs to the heirs of one the wealthiest families in the European country of Westeros; four siblings who didn’t quite know what to do with their inheritance, so they spent their money importing pictures from the other side of the Atlantic. Regardless of whoever runs it, some said the movie business, despite its novelty, had no chance of lifting off after the war. Who could’ve had time for such banalities? 

Only lost souls, apparently. 

Lonely people seeking comfort in the dusty silver light that carries stories within it – desperately seeking a bit of magic in dark rooms to escape their isolated days. 

And you? You might be the loneliest of all. No family, no prospects, and a job at a sleazy pub that will run you to an early grave.

The Sunfyre Cinema still stands, for people like you, with its yellowish lights shining like a beacon of hope in the cold winter nights. 

Floris, your best friend and neighbor, warns you not to walk by yourself at night all the way to The Sunfyre. She’s often stayed with you when the midnight wind sounds too much like the cries of wounded soldiers she’s tended to. Those nights, bundled up by the fire with a warm cup of tea, she tells you stories of a ghost operating the film projector. 

"The ghost that haunts The Sunfyre", Floris calls it. "A creature like The Phantom from your favorite novel by Gaston Leroux." She’s recounted her tale so many times that she’s even started to spice up its details here and there.

Sometimes, the ghost was once a prince who had his eye taken out by his own nephews; others, the prince took his own eye as a gift for his grieving mother after having lost her husband to the Spanish Flu. Knowing your taste for spooks, she’s told you that he was the suitor of a witch, who asked him for his left eye as a proof of his devotion. 

You’re endlessly entertained, but in the end you can’t help but shake your head. You practically live in The Sunfyre and have never seen such an apparition. If there was truly a monster living in the projection room, you’d be the first to know. 

Almost every night after your work shifts, you either walk or ride your bike to the deserted town of Dorne to watch a picture. Rarely are there people there with you – mostly rows of empty dark velvet seats as your companions. Often, you’ve turned around towards the spear of light that emanates from the little booth at the very top of the room, trying to catch the shadow of the mysterious being your friend has told you about, but you see nothing. 

When the picture ends, you stay for a moment, fixing your hearing to detect a huff or a growl to indicate that there’s someone cooped up in there indeed, but nothing. There’s only the grainy static as the movie comes to an end, and the slide-and-click sound of the film roll being ejected. 

It’s as if the projector operates itself. 

Could there really be a ghost in there, after all? 

2

You really shouldn’t be out in the rain like this. Shouldn’t be spending your last coins on a movie ticket, but as you rush through the downpour, holding on to your raincoat for dear life, you cannot contain the excitement bubbling up inside you. 

You had this day marked on your calendar for weeks. The Sunfyre was going to project an adaptation of the Phantom of the Opera with Lon Chaney. The fact that the theater even bothered to import new releases despite you practically being their sole customer – at least the only constant one – amazed you. So you really, really, really couldn’t miss it for the world. 

Floris had insisted that it was irresponsible. That you weren’t going to have enough money left for your month’s rent, that you were gonna catch a cold if you went out on a stormy night. Yet, as reckless as it is, you don’t care. You had been looking forward to this from the moment you’d read in the newspapers that Carl Laemmle was producing an adaptation of the novel – and even more thrilled when you saw the poster for it at The Sunfyre. 

Floris was certainly right, but you were desperate for anything that would make your gray days seem a little brighter – desperate for any novelty to the lonesome routine that sucked the life out of you, morning by morning. Desperate for a way out of the countryside. Only the pictures could offer that escape. 

So you scurry out of the rain to shield yourself under the marquee of The Sunfyre, giddily paying for your ticket before making your way to the hall that has now become a second home to you. As in most nights, you’re alone despite it being a premiere, but this was to be expected for a monday night. 

The lights go down, and the ghoulish text of the opening credits immediately envelops you into an eerie atmosphere; a score of dramatic strings carries you to the first scene of the picture, showing a man dwelling along catacombs, unknowingly followed by a cloaked figure that hides in the shadows. 

You’re on the edge of your seat the entire time – biting your fingernails and grinning as you read each subtitle slide, following along the action and suspense all doubled over yourself on your seat. As if you’ll get any closer to the screen and be pulled right into the story. Especially when the character of Christine looms closer to the phantom as he plays the piano; she curiously eyes him from the back, hesitating on calling for him to turn. 

The camera shot changes quickly, just as she’s about to unmask him! And then! 

– the film jams, cutting the action, engulfing the hall in darkness. 

The spectral vibe of the film taints the room; the longer you spend in darkness as you wait for the projection to come back on, the more you tremble. The silence is so dense it could be cut with a knife; the distant sound of the storm being of no aid to your shivering. You hug yourself tight and repeat to yourself in your head – it’s just a movie, it’s just a movie, it’s just a movie. 

But an odd sound jabs at your mental spiral. 

A grunt. 

Followed by muffled curses and clanks – as if someone was struggling with the machinery in the booth upstairs. 

Tentatively, you turn in your seat, and your heart drops to the floor when you see a silhouette from a distance. 

Gulping down your courage, you rise from your seat and walk up the stairs, aiming to reach the top row seats that are inches below the projection booth. 

You rise to your tiptoes to peek inside the booth but a sudden flash of light blinds you. 

You recoil from the stab of light only to be met with the monstrous face of the Phantom after being unmasked. The frightful sight makes you plop back down onto the seats immediately, covering your eyes while you try to steady your breathing. 

From the space between your fingers you check for the scene to be over, and once you’re calm, curiosity stirs you to look up once more.  

What makes your breathing come up in quick pants is not the fear of the movie. 

It's the brief image of a man in the projection booth. 

3 

Floris hadn’t believed you when you said you’d seen the supposed ghost. Not after she’d asked for you to describe him, and you found yourself at a loss for words. 

Alright, so you hadn’t really seen the man, merely his shadow. 

For all you know, it could've been an actual spirit in there. But it sparked a sense of determination, to see what the projectionist at the cinema looked like. 

You didn’t know why it compelled you so much. Maybe it was the deeply rooted ache in you to find a friend? To know more about the man who handled all the motion pictures you lived for? In your mind, he had the luckiest job in the world, and you wished to learn more about him. Floris, after all, didn’t share your interests. Found them odd, even though she always listened to you with great care 

“You’re always yearning for worlds that don’t exist,” she would tell you. “You’re so busy daydreaming about pictures that you’re going to miss what’s happening in the present. Embrace the real world, deary. It’s the only one we’ve got.” 

Two mornings later, you bike your way to Dorne, right before your evening shift at the pub. 

A silver-blonde woman in denim overalls, dirt-stained boots and a heavy wool coat was hiked up a wooden ladder, changing the names of the next features on the marquee. You recognize her as Helaena, for she normally worked in the ticket booth and greeted you with a kind smile every time – so pleased to see a regular, that she gifted you the pamphlets of the pictures you’d seen twice or thrice. 

You let her work, and instead wander around to the alleyway, until you stumble upon the door in the back of the cinema that had a sign hung up that read, ‘do not enter’. 

With fidgety fingers, you linger for a few moments, merely eyeing the door. 

What are you expecting to find anyway?, you ponder while chewing on your lips, over and over. Whoever lurked behind it most definitely wouldn’t want their privacy being intruded.  

Besides, what if you were banned from The Sunfyre for sticking your nose in places it didn’t belong? You’d rather be shot dead than risk not being welcomed in the one place that had become your sanctuary. 

But right as you’re about to turn the other way, the door opens. 

Both you and the man at the door freeze. 

The first thing you notice is a head of silver hair, before seeing the eyepatch over his left eye and a luminous violet-blue eye on the right – which looked big and hopeful until a frown cast a shadow over his elegant face.   

“You’re not supposed to be here!” he grunts, “Can’t you read the sign?” 

You flinch and recoil from his harsh tone, heart dropping to your stomach. “I - I’m sorry! I was just – I was just leaving.” 

You shake your head and make a run for it, but before you know it he grasps your hand and pulls you back. “Wait! I’m sorry. I know who you are.” 

“You do!?”

He’s just as flustered as you, with a pretty pink blush spreading over his cheeks and neck. Despite his height, he seemed to be trying to make himself smaller, with one foot inside the projection room and the left side of his face leaning sideways, extra conscious of the eyepatch, wanting to hide it from you. 

“Of course I do,” the man continues. He looks tough and hardened by life which makes his tone of voice an utter contradiction – all soft spoken and eloquent, with an accent that betrayed his upper class upbringing.

 “You’re our best customer. Hells, you’re the reason why we haven’t even closed in the first place.” 

“I am!?” 

“Hmm.” He hums in affirmation and continues to stare. The lack of an eye didn’t make his gaze any less penetrating. 

“I’m Aemond,” he breaks the awkward silence, offering his hand back to shake, which makes you smile, and heat to spread from within. 

“Aemond Targaryen. Me and my three siblings own this place. Were you looking for something today? We don’t have a matinee scheduled – I should know, I’m the projectionist.” 

So the legends were true – it was the Targaryens who owned the theater. No wonder he didn’t sound like he was from the countryside. You’re so struck untangling his words that it doesn’t even faze you that you were standing right in front of the subject of Floris’ nightmares and your own wonder – the ghost. 

And, well, despite his pale skin he’s certainly no phantom. In fact, he’s rather handsome and regal-looking, even if he’s wearing nothing but a simple white shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows, and black wool pants fitted around his waist with black suspenders. You shake your head once more, laughing to yourself as you search for a coherent reply from all the excitement you’re feeling. 

“No, not specifically. I…”

Should you confess that he was the reason you were here? Under any other circumstance, this probably would’ve been an idiotic thing to admit, but you figured, if you wanted to make a friend out of Aemond, you might as well be transparent from the start. 

“Well, I actually came by to see if I could speak to the projectionist.” You smile kindly at him, and delight in the way his eye widens in surprise, the way his stern lips tilt ever so slightly. “I wanted to thank him for the wonderful job he does. I…”

You look down with a little bit of embarrassment, but he leans a little bit to be on your eye level and nods, encouraging you to continue. 

“You see, I come here all the time, as you know,” you chuckle, “I suppose I wanted someone to chat about films with. I’m very passionate about them, and I’ve no one else to talk to.” 

It’s as if the gray clouds parted, bringing in a beam of sunshine shining right down on Aemond’s entire face, making his silver hair gleam and his crystalline eye twinkle as he grins at you – so wide, you can see a hidden dimple appearing on his cheeks. 

“You wanted to talk about films? With me?” 

You nod, finally offering your name – as you’d been too caught up admiring the man before you, you’d completely forgotten to introduce yourself. It makes him huff out a timid laugh that you instantly count as a win, as he steps to the side to let you into his little room. 

4 

You soon note that the little projection room is far smaller than you had anticipated, though the size didn’t make for a messy space in the least. Every corner is neatly arranged; the walls are plastered with movie posters shelves full of film stock in their circular, metal encasing. 

When you turn, you sigh in awe, as if you were witnessing one of the wonders of the world: the film projector, mounted right before a tiny square from which the light filtered through and expanded onto the screen. You gravitate towards it, peaking through the window to look at the empty rows of seats below you. Of course Aemond would’ve noticed you, when he had this kind of panoramic view of the cinema hall. 

“It’s something to behold, isn’t it?” he murmurs from behind you. 

“It certainly is. You’re so lucky to do this for a living. I’m on my feet wiping tables and serving cuppas back and forth until my feet can’t take it.” 

He hums again – in what you’re quickly learning is a trademark of his – before you turn. You hadn’t expected to see a slight slouch to his demeanor, and that handsome smirk to have turned down, as if a cloud had passed through his face. A look to his left and you see it:  an individual bed with fuzzy looking blankets is pushed to one wall, 

“Wait, you live here? I thought –” 

“My father disinherited me and my siblings. Gave it all to my half-sister, his eldest from his first marriage. At first we didn’t know what to do with the money he gave us to keep us tamed, so we built this.  This is all we have now.” 

You can tell there’s more storming underneath his facade, but you refrain from asking. Instead, you murmur a simple, “I’m sorry. The war has been tough for everyone.” 

The last bit has you wincing mentally, feeling so lost as to what could be appropriate to say, weary of coming out too innocent and childish, when truthfully due to the isolation everyone endured during The Great War you feel like you’ve lost the touch for communication. Often at work you find yourself stuttering, unable to complete your sentences fluidly. Maybe it’s yet another reason why you preferred the movies. Anyone can understand images. 

Aemond seems to read you thoroughly, shaking his head with a half-smile before looking down. 

You wonder then if he had lost his eye because of the Great War. 

Wonder if he’ll tell you all his stories eventually. 

Aemond finally interjects your spiral of thoughts. “So what did you think of our newest feature?” 

“The Phantom!? I loved it! Thought it was terrifying actually, but so great.” 

Aemond shrugs, leaning against his movie shelf with his hands in the pockets of his suit pants. “It was alright. They definitely strayed from the novel to make some bits scarier. I found the make-up on Lon Chaney quite excellent, however.” 

Your chest warms, all self-consciousness from before vanishing, having found someone that speaks your language. 

Nearly all noon is spent with Aemond in the projection room, exchanging views about film and literature, and he even gives you a couple of pamphlets and flyers, after assuring him that it would be your absolute delight and pleasure to promote The Sunfyre at your workplace. You even tell him he’s welcomed there anytime he feels like it. It’s a bit of a trek from Dorne, and not an elegant place in the least –  much less for a Targaryen –  but at least the drinks were decent, and every now and again you were in charge of preparing the soup of the day, which, not to toot your own horn, was a favorite amongst patrons. 

After you’ve said your goodbyes, Aemond halts as you walk away, “Wait!” 

He turns inside the projection room and comes back to hand a little celluloid square to you. “Here.” 

You bring it up against the sunlight and feel giddy realizing it’s a still from the movie.  

“I cut this little bit when the film jammed.” Aemond confesses, making your heart swoon. 

“Won’t someone notice the missing scene?” 

He just shakes his head and smiles, “It must be only a second. No one will notice."

“Thank you.” You bring the delicate still to your heart and go on your way, completely missing the way Aemond was left gazing longingly at your figure for a moment before retreating to the confine of the cinema. 

[laiqualaurelote]

Ok but for the file thing, I'm DYING to know more about "The first thing Isaac chopped in half with his hand was the BELIEVE sign" pls <3

thank you for this ask for the WIP game! this is an extremely cracky AU in which the Richmond Players all start manifesting superpowers.

The first thing Isaac chopped in half with his hand was the BELIEVE sign. The second was Zoreaux.

To be fair to Isaac, he had failed to chop Jamie in half. (More on this later.) Thus, while Jamie went off to sulk and Zoreaux ambled up to poke at the broken sign saying, “Maybe we can make a new one?” Isaac thought nothing of clapping him on the back and replying, “Sure thing, bruv.”

His hand went through Zoreaux like a hot knife through butter. Zoreaux didn’t exactly fall apart, but he did sort of peel away in two halves like a melted clock in a Dalí painting. He was screaming the whole time. It was the modern art mash-up nobody wanted to see.

Isaac gaped at him in horror. The other players were yelling. “Bro! What did you do!”

“I didn’t – ” began Isaac. 

Zoreaux was still screaming. Weirdly, there was no blood or anything. The edges of him seemed to have been pinched off, like Play-doh.

“We must put him back together!” shouted Dani. He and Richard were on their knees, trying to jam the two halves of Zoreaux back together, only Zoreaux seemed to be drooping and stretching through their fingers. “Mon dieu,” gasped Richard. “He is like cheese! But not good cheese! Like the cheap mozzarella from Pizza Express!”

“Osti de tabarnak de sacrament!” shrieked Zoreaux. “What the fuck is happening!”

“I got the duct tape!” called Will, rushing in. He tossed the roll to Sam, who began trying to tape Zoreaux back together as the rest of the players rushed in to try and help. 

“Wait, wait.” Something was happening as Sam’s hands brushed against the halves of Zoreaux. They seemed to be melding back together. “Sam!” cried Dani. “It’s you! You are healing him!”

“Wow,” said Sam, staring at his hands as they knit Zoreaux back together. “Wait, I need to make sure he’s aligned properly. Can I get more light?”

Everyone was temporarily blinded as Dani burst into a blazing ball of brilliance.

“...okay,” said Sam after some time, “way more light than I needed, but thank you.”

“De nada, Sam!” 

It was at this point that Trent Crimm walked into the room. He stopped and put on his glasses, as if that would clarify the tableau of the AFC Richmond team duct-taping their cloven goalkeeper together while one of their strikers was blazing like a lighthouse beacon and their captain stood in the corner with his hands apologetically raised in the air. 

“What,” said Trent, “the actual fuck?”

*

Trent’s first thought was that he would have to re-pitch his book as a fantasy novel, because nobody was going to take it seriously as non-fiction any more.

“So you’ve got healing hands,” he repeated to Sam.

“I think so?” Sam stared at his hands. “Or maybe I just have the ability to stick things back together. I don’t know. Perhaps I should test it on another injury?”

Across the locker room, O’Brien cleared his throat. “Sam? Can you touch my butt?”

Trent and the players turned to stare at him. 

“Not for gay reasons,” O’Brien clarified. “For science.”

“Both of those are valid,” said Sam. “I would be happy to touch your butt for you.”

Trying to ignore O’Brien casually dropping trou in the corner, Trent removed his spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose. Dani’s brightness was giving him a migraine. “I’m sorry, bruv,” said Isaac to Zoreaux for the thousandth time.

“It’s okay,” said Zoreaux. They had yet to remove the duct tape, just in case, so he looked like a very poorly-wrapped package. “It didn’t actually hurt. I was just freaking out, bro.”

Babatunde was holding on to Zoreaux’s little finger and walking across the room while Bumbercatch followed him with a measuring tape to see how far the finger could stretch. “Three metres!” yelled Bumbercatch as Richard tried to cross the room to his locker and ended up having to do the limbo under the finger. “Okay, take it around the corner!”

“I just thought,” went on Isaac, “‘cos I touched Jamie, and I didn’t chop him in half…” He trails off.

“What?” said Jamie. And then, as Isaac made a move towards him, “Whoa! Are you fucking mental?”

“Sorry.” Isaac backed off. 

“Could I test a theory?” ventured Trent. “Bearing in mind that I mean this as a purely scientific inquiry.”

“Sure,” said Jamie. “Whatev – oi!” he yelled as Trent stabbed him in the hand with his pen.

The pen snapped in two. Ink splattered over Jamie’s hand, the skin of which remained unbroken. Jamie screwed up his nose. “That’s disgusting, man.”

“I think you’re invulnerable, Jamie,” said Trent.

Jamie considered this. “That mean I can’t be hurt?”

“I believe so, yes. We’ll have to run more tests to be sure.”

“Huh,” said Jamie. “Sick.”

“It worked!” O’Brien yelled from across the room. “It’s a miracle! I’m healed!”

“Okay,” said Trent wearily, “so we’ve got…five superpowers that have manifested so far. Anybody else feel a superpower coming on?”

“I got one,” called out Jan Maas. “I’m always right.”

The locker room erupted in laughter. “Shut the fuck up, Jan Maas,” they chorused.

Jan shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

[crisiscutie]

Okay the way I found your fanfic on ao3 (which I’m so absolutely hooked over btw read it in a day) and somehow I got myself fully immersed in all your different Sephiroth aus. Your writing is so 🥺 especially the way you capture their personalities to fit the struggles they’ve been through and just fits their own unique character. So far I’m loving Fluffy AU the most. I’m just curious what turned Fluffy Seph into a Yandere again. Like what triggered it? And I was also wondering since fluffy darling is stressed from yandere seph and sephs biggest fear was always losing fluffy darling to pregnancy complications how would he react if something were to happen after he finds her. Would he become crazier and go back to his original plans to destroy the world or would he become a better person. Thank you for your work!

What fanfic on Ao3? Could you link it? As for how Fluffy Sephiroth became "Fluffy", I partially alluded to this backstory in my most recent work with him in it here. I will write more about it, but I will explain it further in a meta context. Read more for the explanation or wait for when I write it, your choice.

The alternate Domestic AU is a bad path diverging from the regular, fluffy Domestic AU. Fluffy Sephy is at risk succumbing to his inner darkness and violent impulses, but his darling, who serves as his source of light, keeps those urges at bay. Sephiroth's mental state could greatly worsen if anything happens to his darling and/or children.

In the Alternate Domestic AU, some years after Darling gave birth to their triplet boys, she began to suffer from degradation, an unfortunate consequence from her SOLDIER past. Seeing his darling on the brink of death had already put Sephy on the edge. He tirelessly did what he could to find a "cure" for her until he made the fateful choice to return to Shinra to find what he needed. Let's just say he discovered his origins under even more distressing circumstances, given his heightened despair and anxiety. Hojo told him what exactly he COULD do to save darling, but it was no guarantee that it would save her (what a troll) since a perfect monster like him couldn't give his own cells away. After reaching his limit with the bastard, Sephiroth killed him and extracted a sample of JENOVA's cells to inject into his pregnant darling, all of which happened after his mandatory killing spree within Shinra HQ, of course.

It's a tragic situation, but I think it's in Sephiroth's character drive him do something like this for his darling, as his strong love for her and their children compels him, even if it means continuing the horrific cycle his father started. Sephiroth tells himself, who is the master of his world, it'd be different. But how different, really?

As for losing the darling in general to pregnancy complications, then the world will pay for it. It doesn't matter if it was a mere act of god that caused her to die, the world will know despair.

That woman is his anchor, his beacon of light, so help anyone and anything that takes her away from him.

Thanks for the ask, anon. It's a rather nice boost to my motivation and esteem. More discussions and questions like these on my blog would be greatly appreciated. Seriously, it's great when people ask about my works, it actually keeps me motivated to write more.

[hanjsquokka]

Neon Lights - [ Yang Jeongin ]

🩷 SYNOPSIS : Jeongin always believed he'd meet the love of his life in a place like the movie theaters or somewhere romantic. Not in a frat party when he wasn't exactly sober. You were a sight to behold underneath the neon lights, leaving him to want more than just a taste.

GENRE : fluff, college!au, strangers to potential lovers

PAIRING : yang jeongin × f!reader

CONTENT WARNING : alcohol, swearing, frat party

WORD COUNT : 2.5K

AUTHOR'S NOTE : This is my last one-shot for the Valentines collab with @stayconnecteed . I had so much fun writing these with you Mars <3

The fraternity house buzzed with energy as Yang Jeongin stepped through the doorway, his senses immediately assaulted by a cacophony of sound and a wave of heat. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol, the bass of the music reverberating through the floorboards and rattling his bones. He wasn't your average party enthusiast — the loud music, the crowded spaces, the overwhelming sensory overload always left him feeling more out of place than ever. But tonight was different. Tonight, he was determined to break free from the confines of his comfort zone, to embrace the chaos and the excitement of college life.

As he made his way through the endless crowd of college students, Jeongin couldn't help but feel a sense of anxiety mingled with anticipation. This was unfamiliar territory for him — a world of social hierarchies and unspoken rules that he had never quite managed to navigate.

His friend Changbin was the complete opposite of him. Everyone knew him as the life of any party and the starter of most. Even now, Jeongin caught sight of him playing beer pong with a couple of other guys. He was just about to go over to them squeezing past the dancing people and barely managed to keep his toes stepped on by stilettos thrice. He grabbed a cup of beer from a passing tray, trying to loosen himself up.

Amidst the sea of faces, one stood out like a beacon in the night — a girl with eyes that sparkled like stars and a smile that could light up the darkest of rooms. You moved with a grace and confidence that Jeongin found mesmerizing, your laughter cutting through the din like a melody in the chaos. He paused his movements, staying rooted in the place he was so he wouldn't lose sight of you. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as your eyes met his from across the crowded room, a silent exchange passing between the two of you like a whisper in the wind.

It was love at first sight — he knew it. He was drinking up the sight of you living your life with the dopiest smile on his face. The song that was blasting in full volume started to fade away as his vision tunneled on you and only you. He didn't know your name or what major you were in, but he was drunkenly in love. It was almost stupid to think about how hard he fell in a span of a few minutes.

With a newfound sense of purpose, Jeongin made his way towards you, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nerves. He had never been one for bold gestures or grand displays of affection, but tonight felt different — tonight, he was determined to take a chance, to seize the opportunity before it slipped through his fingers.

As he reached your side, he cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper in the chaos of the party. “Hey,” he said, his words tinged with uncertainty. “Would you, uh, like to dance?”

To his relief, you smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made his heart soar. Sure, you reeked of beer and he knew you weren't exactly sober, but the simple act of nodding made his breath hitch. “I'd love to,” you replied, your voice soft but sure. You pulled him away from the people you were previously with and to the middle of the messing arranged dance floor. His attention was briefly diverted to Chan, another friend of his, who was currently grinding on the floor. His brows furrowed in concern and second hand embarrassment, quickly putting his focus onto you. Jeongin grabbed a cup from a person walking by with a tray, gulping it down in one go and cringed at the sting in his throat. He wasn't going to be able to do this without a little more alcohol in his system.

Your hands were a perfect fit in his as you swayed to the music. It was like second nature to you. The neon lights all around made the moment even better. The environment of the place being a frat party drowned out and it was just the two of you. He was almost jealous when a friend of yours pried you away from him and he was pushed into the chaos that he somehow managed to navigate and end up at the beer pong table.

You were on his mind the rest of the night and the following night as well. He needed to know who you were. He needed to see you. His prayers were answered when you walked into class a few days later, bag carelessly slung over your shoulder as you texted someone on your phone. How had he not seen you before? Jeongin watched you walk to a group of people he supposed were your friends.

“Jeongin —” Changbin hit his friend on his shoulder. “Can you stop gawking at Y/n and listen to what I'm saying?”

“Her name's Y/n?”

“That's your question?”

“It suits her.”

“Can you get your horny ass under control?” Jeongin glared at Changbin. His unnecessarily loud remark had caused a few heads to turn in their direction. His breath hitched when you spared him a small glance before going back to your conversation. His face burned at the thought of you hearing that sentence. “Finally. Why are you even staring at her?”

“Because…” Jeongin couldn't outright admit that he was in love with a girl he saw for five minutes at a party, right?

“Because?”

He was saved when the professor walked into the class, silencing the chattering student to some extent as he pulled papers out of his bag and began the lecture. His upcoming exams were the last thing on his mind, you occupying most of his interests ever since he laid eyes on you. Your demeanor in class was a contrast to your wild side he met with at the party. From the subtle glances he made in your direction, he couldn't believe it was the same person. The way you bit your lip as you focused on what the professor was saying, eyebrows furrowed as you scribbled something in your notebook.

Jeongin could've spent an eternity looking at you but Changbin nudged his side to get him to pay attention to what was happening in the class.

And boy was he glad he did. He wouldn't have believed it if someone told him that you would be assigned as his project partner. Jeongin felt like the luckiest man on earth when he walked out of class, and he felt even luckier when you stopped him right outside the door with a nervous smile as you asked him about when the two of you should meet for the assignment. Once a place and time was fixed, you jotted down your phone number on a post it note and gave it to him, brushing away the hair that fell in your eyes as you gave him the very same smile he fell in love with before you spun around on your heel and left.

The meeting in the library was a pivotal moment, charged with nervous energy and anticipation. Jeongin arrived early, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. He had spent hours preparing for this moment, meticulously gathering notes and research materials for their project. But as he waited for you to arrive, doubts began to creep into his mind.

What if you didn't show up? What if you thought he was boring or uninteresting? What if he made a fool of himself and ruined any chance of getting to know you better?

But just as he was about to give in to his fears, you walked through the library doors, your presence illuminating the dimly lit room like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

“Hey,” you said, your voice soft but sure as you approached him. “I'm glad you made it. Sorry I'm late. Were you waiting long?”

Jeongin felt a surge of relief wash over him as he returned your smile, his nerves melting away in the warmth of your gaze. “Hey,” he replied, his voice steadier than he had expected. “No, don't worry, I just got here.”

As you settled into your seats, a comfortable silence settled between the two of you, punctuated only by the soft rustling of pages and the occasional murmur of voices in the distance. With each passing moment, Jeongin felt himself growing more at ease in your presence, his worries fading into the background as you delved into your assignment.

But amidst the atmosphere of the library, there lingered an undeniable tension — a palpable undercurrent of attraction that neither of you could ignore. Jeongin found himself stealing glances at you whenever he thought you weren't looking, admiring the way the soft glow of the reading lamps illuminated your features, casting a halo of light around you.

And as you worked side by side, your hands brushing against each other in fleeting moments of connection, Jeongin felt his heart race with a mixture of excitement and longing. He wanted to reach out to you, to take your hand in his and never let go, but he was afraid — afraid of crossing a line, afraid of scaring you away.

But just as he was about to give in to his doubts, you spoke. “Hey, Jeongin,” you said, putting down the pen in your hand. “I know we're here to work, but... do you mind if we take a break for a minute? There's something I've been meaning to ask you.”

Jeongin felt his heart skip a beat at your words, his curiosity piqued. “Of course,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “What is it?”

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes searching his face as if trying to read his thoughts. And then, with a smile that melted his heart, she said, “Do you want to grab a bite with me? I know a place nearby that makes the best burgers, and... I'd really like to get to know you better.”

Jeongin felt his breath catch in his throat at her words, his mind reeling with disbelief. Could this be happening? Were you actually asking him out?

But as he looked into your eyes, he saw the truth reflected back at him — a truth that filled him with a warmth he had never known before.

With a smile that stretched from ear to ear, Jeongin nodded, his heart overflowing with joy. “I'd love to,” he said, his voice tinged with excitement. “Lead the way.”

The two of you strolled through the evening streets, the city lights casting a warm glow over their path as you chatted and laughed, the nervous energy from your earlier encounter giving way to a sense of ease and comfort.

As you entered the cozy little diner downtown, Jeongin couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mingled with a hint of nervousness. You settled into a corner booth, the soft ambiance of the restaurant enveloping you like a warm embrace.

For Jeongin, the dinner was a whirlwind of emotions — a mix of excitement, anticipation, and a touch of uncertainty. He wanted to make a good impression, to show her that he was more than just a shy, awkward student — that he had depth and substance, dreams and aspirations that extended far beyond the confines of their college campus.

But amidst the nervous energy that crackled between you, there was an undeniable sense of connection — a shared understanding that transcended words and gestures. You talked about everything — your hopes and dreams, your fears and insecurities, your favorite books and movies, your most embarrassing childhood memories — until the hours slipped away like grains of sand through an hourglass.

And amidst the laughter and the shared moments, Jeongin found himself falling more deeply in love with each passing second. There was something about you — your warmth, your kindness, your unwavering optimism — that drew him in like a moth to a flame, igniting a spark within him that he never knew existed.

As they finished their meal and paid the bill, Jeongin felt a sense of contentment wash over him like a gentle tide.

“I had fun today.” He said as you stood in the cool night air, breath fogging out in front of him as he spoke in a soft tone. Earning a silence from you, he turned to see if anything was wrong but was only met with your gaze already on him, making both your cheeks turn into a rosy hue. Neither of you broke eye contact, even as he felt a magnetic pull towards you, your faces inching closer. His eyes fluttered shut as he felt your soft lips on his, a memory he'd never want to forget. It was even better than he could've ever imagined. You pulled away, shying away from him which only made him laugh, pulling you in for a tight hug.

“I'm glad you asked me to dance at that party.”

“You remember that?”

“The only thing I did.” Jeongin blushed as you said that.

“You looked beautiful in those neon lights back there.” He said in a hushed tone, so no one could overhear what he was saying except for you. “But you look absolutely enchanting underneath the moonlight.” He cupped your face and kissed you again. “We're meeting up for another study session right?”

“I don't think we're going to get much studying done.”

“I'm not opposed to the idea.” You laughed, wrapping your hand around his arm as you dragged him down the bustling streets.

©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

[vanossfan10]

RWBY: Jaune Arc Mandalorian AU: Jaune’s Starfighter

**During the last Two Years at Beacon, Jaune and his friends all got along he managed to have a very loving relationship with Yang and the two Teams became power houses after their first year, but on one night they played Truth or Dare Jaune Revealed in a Truth he has a Starfighter to help him go earn some cash from bounties in space given to him by his Bounty Hunter Mentor; Boba Fett.**

(Night of the ToD game night)

Ruby: BULLSHIT! I call BULL!! SHIT!!

Yang: Ruby! Language! I’m sure Jaune is just joking

Jaune: who said I was?

Yang:…huh?!….

Teams RWBY & (J)NPR: ………EEEEHHHH!?!?!……

They all yelled in shock and saw that he wasn’t joking at all.

**The very next morning he took Team RWBY and his own team down to Ozpin private landing bay for Beacon where bullhead ships were kept, they all soon saw a ship that was covered in a large grey tarp and once they walked over to it Jaune grabbed the tarp and revealed his Starfighter.**

Ruby:…oh wow…(eyes shine and she begins to drool)…

Weiss: mhm this is quite a spectacle~

Blake: I mean I’ve read these in science fiction books but never thought I’d see one in person

Yang: that’s fucking hot babe~💕

Pyrrha: Jaune you always continue to surprise us

Nora: I WANNA RIDE IT! I WANNA RIDE IT! I WANNA RIDE IT! AND I WANNA BLOW STUFF UP WITH IT!!!

Ren: Nora No! (He said trying to hold her back)

Nora: NORA YES!!

Jaune: I’ll think about it Nora, anyway this is my Eta-2 Actis-class light interceptor, years ago it was originally made for a old warrior race of people known as Jedi but they all went extinct and are only a few left in the Galaxy, as from what my mentor told me when he got this for me

Blake: your mentor got you this?

Jaune: yeah it was a gift after I completed my training, but despite it all I wear his family crest on it to show my thanks to him and to honor my mentor

**Suddenly Weiss interrupted**

Weiss: if that’s so, what’s this art piece supposed to indicate mhm~

**she said in a teasing tone as they all looked at the side of Jaune’s Starfighter wing and saw a pin up spray paint art piece of Yang**

**everyone looked at the pin up with blushes, some covered their mouths and some looked at Jaune with a cheeky smirk, but Yang mostly was looking at it in embarrassment but also a little bit happy on the inside seeing Jaune still thinking of her when he’s away**

Yang: J-Jaune WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?!

Jaune: now Yang come on I can explain

Nora: so fearless leader got a sexy mascot to show off to the galaxy huh

Jaune: NORA!

Pyrrha: my goodness Jaune I didn’t think you’d do that and by yangs reaction you didn’t even get her permission, how deviant of you

Jaune: Pyrrha it’s not what y-

Yang: how could you Jaune! (She said blushing harder)

Jaune: Yang please it is just a pi

Yang: how could you get my Signature Wrong!!

RWB(Y) & JNPR:…….Huh???

**they all said in confusion**

Yang: if you wanted me to be your pin up you should have had me sign it!

Jaune:…..umm…ok I’m sorry?….I guess?

Yang: good but I’ll forgive you under one condition

Jaune: what?

Yang: if you take me for a ride in it first before everyone else

**she said tapping her fingers together and making a pouty face along while doing it**

Jaune: (Giggles) sure thing babe

**he said as he pulls her in for a kiss and her soon accepted his apology from the kiss and his promise**

Nora: can I blow up a Cabbage Stand with it now!

Ren: why a Cabbage Stand?!

Blake: you really wanna ask her that question Ren?

Nora: Well my beautiful Ren Ren, it’s because in every universe there is a Cabbage man who yells “No! My Cabbages!!” It’s a universal thing Ren Ren~💕

Ren: What?

Nora: I WANNA BLOW SHIT UP!!

Ruby: ME TOO!! I WANNA BLOW SHIT UP!!

Ren: NORA NO!!!

Yang: RUBY LANGUAGE!!

Fin

[theee-collector]

Teen Wolf Librarian AUs

A collection of Sterek fics where one of them is a librarian (most play in a library themselves)

This is Lovecantrophy by orphan_account

12.1K | Sterek | Teen

In which Valentine's Day is closely approaching, and Derek is a disgruntled grad student who works at a library. He's hit a roadblock on his thesis, he's harboring a (not so secret) crush on Stiles, and he keeps receiving werewolf-themed gifts from a secret admirer. Basically, Derek is totally oblivious and angsty, Stiles does a lot of planning off-screen, and Erica and Scott are awesome friends who are awesome.

Unknowing First Date by gayderek

1.2k | Sterek | General

Derek doesn't share, but for some reason he lets the mystery boy sitting across from him borrow his headphones. Turns out that the Mystery Boy isn't mysterious at all. He's kind of annoying, but he's kind of cute too.

You're the piece that I just found out how to fit to by pseudofoucault333

23.2k | Sterek | Explicit

Stiles is known as the tattooed reference Librarian, the somewhat reluctant crush of most teenagers in Beacon Hills and the son of the Sheriff. Derek is the new Deputy in town who has a history of heartbreak. Will Stiles' persistence pay off to help him get Derek to trust him and will Derek finally admit to himself that not everyone looks at him and sees a pretty face?

Inside this place is warm by wolfcloaks

40k | Sterek | Explicit

Coming down; One love, two mouths  Stiles Stilinski: -Senior at Berkley -Double majoring in Human Biology and Biomedical Engineering -Student Librarian -Closet Artist -Basket case extrodanaire -Hopelessly crushing on Derek Hale (read as: pining) Derek Hale: -Grad Student at Berkley -Philosophy Major -Dog enthusiast -Does not cry during The Notebook, fuck you,Laura -Is definitely not pining over the librarian with the cute moles -Would very much like to tell the librarian's curly haired boyfriend to fuck off Or Where Derek and Stiles are complete dweebs in love and jump to horribly inaccurate conclusions Or When your meet-cute turns into a bit of an (light) angst fest but it's all ok in the end

Hale's Library & Coffee Shop by scarlettletterr

3.8k | Sterek | Mature

College Student Stiles is looking for a place to work - so he can pay his bills - when his friend from class, Erica, mentions that her boss is looking for someone to help at Hale's Library and Coffee Shop. Stiles gets the job, along with a giant crush on his boss, Derek, that seems obvious to anyone but him.

Don’t Judge a Book by its Cover by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

6.1k | Sterek | General

“Hi,” Stiles said jovially with a bright smile. “How can I help you?” For a few seconds, hot, sexy guy said nothing. He just stared at Stiles like he’d never seen another human being before. Eventually, after a sufficiently long and awkward silence, hot, sexy guy had said, “I’m looking for a book.” “Sure thing!” Stiles had then waited. Because—he worked in the public library, so someone coming in asking for a book was normal, but only asking for a book with no other details was a little too vague. “Um, I’m gonna need you to be a little bit more specific,” he’d informed him. “Right.” Hot, sexy guy had looked flustered, some of his murderous aura dissipating.

Checking You Out by wherearethebreaks

7k | Sterek | General

Usually, the people who actually did come into the library used the computers. Usually, Derek could just sit at the small table behind the circulation desk and spread out his papers and get his homework done. But not that day. Oh no. No, some random guy just barged in, doors slamming loudly behind him, tripped over a display for some new books they'd gotten, and didn't sign in, (which, who doesn't know that you have to sign in during school hours?) all before running, running, into the non-fiction shelves. Who runs in the library? Who doesn't sign in? The librarian who usually had to deal with the rowdy and unruly teens that often wandered inside to talk loudly with their friends, was in the bathroom. Meaning, Derek was the one who was going to have to deal with this kid. Something he'd never really done before; therefore, didn't know how to deal with. "Uh, excuse me?" A.K.A: Derek is a library student aid and loves the peace and quiet, a quiet that is interrupted by a fellow student that Derek has to kindly deal with. To bad the guy's a total cutie that shows up the next day, and the one after that to ask him out.

You taste so bitter and so sweet by EmmisaryStilinski22

5.2k | Sterek | Not rated

Dear 402, Your two dogs woke me up every night this week at 4 am! Please silence your hounds from hell! Regards, 403

Dog Days of Summer by CarnalCoffeeBean

1.9k | Sterek | General

Beacon Hills, as it turns out, is actually boring as hell. Or, the one in which summer is boring, Derek accidentally becomes a library volunteer, Lydia and Erica get shit done, Stiles researches werewolves, and multiple people trip, stumble, and fall flat on their faces on their way towards something resembling love.

Special Collections by hannah_baker

16.4k | Sterek | Explicit

Stiles Stilinski is a senior in college working on his thesis. Derek Hale is the grumpy (though inhumanely attractive) special collections librarian. All they needed was a common interest to spark a friendship that becomes more than either of the bargained for.

Can I get Your (call) Number, baby by lielabell

4.9k | Sterek | Teen

Thing is, for the most part, Stiles's loves his job. He loves the quiet hush of the library, the way it smells like must and old books. He likes walking through the stacks, collecting books to be shelved. Likes sitting at the reference desk, hell, he even likes the fact that they still have a card catalog, even though no one ever uses it. Everything about the job is amazing. Except... Except for the music majors.

Stacking up by bravelittlesoldier

8.2k | Sterek | Teen

Stiles is working in the basement of the Library of Congress and is feeling his social skills quickly deteriorate. Then along comes a new librarian working at Circulation who is most definitely a male model. Maybe its time to start re-socializing.

Librarians Always Know What To Say by codarra

1.1k | Sterek | General

Derek comes into the library where Stiles works. A lot. Only he doesn't know Stiles' name. And he's fairly certain Stiles doesn't know Derek exists.

Baby, I'm yours by yodasyoyo

4k | Sterek | Teen

Honestly, Derek Hale didn’t think he could be surprised anymore at the things you see working behind the circulation desk of the university library. He thought he’d seen it all. There’s a guy that comes in on Thursdays that carries a kitten in his bag and thinks Derek doesn’t know. There’s another guy that comes in every other day or so to catch a nap in a secluded corner. And then there’s the couple that Derek’s had to kick out three times now for having sex in the stacks. There’s this one guy that has, by far, expanded Derek’s list of strange happenings in the library. He only knows the guy’s name because he has to come to Derek to check out his books and it shows up on the computer but it’s not actually anything Derek can pronounce so it doesn’t really help. Anyway, Unpronounceable-first-name Stilinski is always up to something.

#librarynerd by yodasyoyo

7.7k | Sterek | Teen

“I’ll likely get far more done in the group if I’m not distracted watching you with your pen--” “My--My pen?” “Pens. Drinking straws. Don’t act like you don’t know,” Derek says darkly. “You know.” ____________ In which Stiles follows Scott into his Spanish study group, takes one look at the hot nerd who runs it and then decides to stay... even though he doesn't actually speak Spanish.

Old you in the garbage(new you in display case) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

13.5k | Sterek | Teen

Stiles is lonely and desperate and suffering from a crush on the grumpiest librarian. So what’s a boy to do but cook up a ridiculous plan to get himself dated and/or finally get laid before the holidays? He just wants his She’s All That moment, okay? He never expected that the plan would actually help him get the guy.

[moodooivy]

Swap verse

And here it is. The Swap Verse. I want this to be more than just "Character swaps with Character". So here is a full list of who is here and who they are. Enjoy.

Swap Nightmare is Phobos. Name inspired by the Martian Moon, and by the god of fear who goes by the same name. Swaps with Dream. In this AU, Phobos is the guardian of positivity. While he represents negative energy and such, it is his job to keep the balance and watch over the opposite side of the tree. And just like Dream, everyone loves him more than his brother. But unlike Dream, Phobos actually earns and deserves the adoration. He knew the villagers did not love his brother as much and tried his best to him without letting him know people didn't love him. I'll explain the "incident" when I get to swap Dream but just know that Phobos does still eat the dark apple and become a goofy octopus we know. But unlike the original Nightmare, Phobos felt bad after what happened and decided to leave the village, not believing he deserved the adoration anymore. Phobos is still the leader of a gang. But it's not a group Phobos started to spread death and fear across the multiverse. Phobos started his group which I shall title The Good Sanses (Real creative I know) was started by Phobos when he began to take in Sans AUs who were in pain and alone. AUs that had the most negativity leaking through. His Salt equivalent is Phosphor. Name inspired by the word that means fluorescent light.

Swap Error is Cyber. Name inspired by the word that means related to computers and technology. Swaps with Ink. In this AU, Cyber is still the "destroyer of AUs". I want to go or a The Collector from The Owl House vibe. Cyber's story is generally the same as Error's... Which is... Well... I'm not sure what Error's story is but here goes; Cyber was previously swap Geno (Who I will discuss later), who was previously Blue. Cyber agrees there AUs are anomalies of the original Undertale AU. But he actually likes them. His goal is not to destroy them but to make them look pretty. He'll decorate the AUs with long patches of his yarn, make it all look pretty, and then move onto the next. Cyber is not completely devoid of malice. Just like Ink, Cyber is not necessarily "good". If he believes an AU is beyond saving he will destroy it (Hense keeping the Destroyer Of AUs title). He sees the multiverse as his personal dollhouse and the monsters inside, his dolls. Whom which he can toy with however he wants. His Salt equivalent is Crypto. Name inspired by the word short for cryptocurrency.

Swap Cross is Scout. Name inspired by the word that means soldier or person who searches. Swaps with Blue. In this AU, Scout is basically if Cross were to instead join Dream/The good side. But he joined Phobos. Scout has a very similar personality to Blue. He is very helpful and is the shining beacon of The Good Sanses. His Salt equivalent is Scotch. Name inspired by the fact that it also starts with 'sco'.

Swap Dust is Powder. Name inspired by the word that means particals. He doesn't swap with anyone, but he is meant to have a similar personality to Horror. In this AU, when Stretch tried to kill Blue, Blue instead fought back and kills Stretch. He felt terrible for it. But at the same time it felt so "good". So nice to not be a weakling for once and have someone else's blood/dust on his hands. So he decided to keep going and start killing everyone to feed his newfound bloodlust. After the first reset he did it all over again And after the second reset, and after the third, fourth, and fifth. After about 50 resets the human just... Stopped coming back. Powder is very mentally broken but not in the same way Dust is. Powder is just a complete manic mess. He is very emotional and cries over every little thing and is very clingy. Powder is similar to Horror in the sense that despite having a very tragic origin he is in a way the least harmful and cares for the other members the most. Powder has a ghost Pap as well whom he pretends is real as a way of coping. Sometimes it seems like he knows it's not real, other times it can be very hard to tell. His ghost Pap usually just mocks and verbally abuses Powder. His Salt equivalent is Pollen. Name inspired by the word that means powdery substance.

Swap Killer is Hunter. Name inspired by the word that means someone that hunts. He doesn't swap with anyone, but he is meant to have the same personality as Dust. In this AU, I wanted to play off the fact that Killer lacks emotions. Instead of lacking emotions but still acting with a lot of expression (The best way I can describe Killer) Hunter shows little to no expression. And unlike Dust, Hunter has no sense of empathy or sympathy for anyone he's hurt or anyone around him that is hurting. Hunter tries his best with Powder and Spook because he knows how hard their past is but he can never bring it in himself to fully sympathize. His Salt equivalent is Heather. Name inspired by... I dunno.

Swap Horror is Spook. Name inspired by the word that means unnerving. He doesn't swap with anyone, but he is meant to have the same personality as Killer. In this AU, not much really changes. Blue is the one who's eye is required for the Core. Alphys is never able to bring herself to take it herself, but when Spook finds out about this, he himself offers to let her. Spook is very dim witted and empty-headed. A silly goofball. He usually just spends his time eating because he's always hungry. His Salt equivalent is Spade. Name inspired by the fact it also starts with 'sp'.

Swap Dream is Hypnos. Name inspired by the god of sleep that has the same name. Swaps with Nightmare. In this AU, Hypnos is the guardian of negativity. While he represents positive energy and such, it is his job to keep the balance and watch over the opposite side of the tree. And just like Nightmare, the villagers do not like him. But unlike Nightmare, Hypnos is kind o justifiable to dislike. He's a bit of a self entitled jerk. He is very jealous of Phobos and has always suspected the villagers loved him more. Hypnos is always trying to get some love but never can. Until one day he gets tired of it. Hypnos eats a positive apple to try and gain some attention. But when that doesn't work he snaps and tries to kill his own brother. Phobos eats the dark apple in order to become strong so he can fight back. But before Hypnos and him and fully fight, Hypnos turns to stone. Once Hypnos came back from stone he swore to himself that he'd get back at Phobos (For existing I guess). And so he started his own little group called the Fallen Sanses. His Salt equivalent is Hydria. Name inspired by the word hydra.

Swap Ink is Slate. Name inspired by a shade of grey and 'blank 'slate''. Swaps with Error. In this AU, Slate is still the "protector of AUs". Slate is still the one who creates the AUs. But here, his attitude is much more similar to Error's. He is VERY particular about his creations and if he finds that there is a single thing wrong with it he will destroy it. Even if it's when he changes his mind after creating the monsters that live in the AU. Slate gets very jealous. If he thinks someone is getting more attention than him he will purposely deface their work. Which is why he hates Cyber. After Cyber "ruins" the AUs Slate works "So HaRd" to "perfect", he will destroy it. Even if he could very easily just clean up the mess. If Slate befriends someone he might leave the AU they live in be. But one wrong move and he will destroy that AU just out of spite. His Salt equivalent is Sullen. Name inspired by the word that means gloomy and depressed.

Swap Blue is Cobalt. Name inspired by the shade of blue and material that goes by the same name. Swaps with Cross. In this AU, Cobalt is basically if Blue was recruited by the Bad Sanses instead. Blue became a royal guard in Underswap and then was recruited to become a Fallen Sans. But what happened was he didn't join by choice. Hypnos took him away from his AU before Slate decided to destroy it. Perhaps he say potential. Neither are sure. He just did it. Anyway. Blue was renamed Cobalt to sound more intimidating I guess? Cobalt will often question Hypnos and Slate's morals. His Salt equivalent is Cloud. Name inspired by Cloudberries.

Swap Lust is Poly. Name inspired by the word polyamorous. In this AU, Poly is feminine. That's it. Your welcome. His Salt equivalent is Posy. Name inspired by the flowers.

Swap Ccino is Muffin. Name inspired by the food. In this AU, Muffin will be made to be as cute as possible. He still has a cafe. But instead of cats he has a bunch of bunnies and instead of a bunny hoodie he has a cat hoodie. His Salt equivalent is Mocha. Name inspired by the chocolate.

Swap Geno is Cide. Name inspired by the last part of Geno'cide'. In this AU, Cide is basically Blue if he were put in Geno's situation. If the human were to somehow find a way to kill Stretch first. His Salt equivalent is Ciao. Name inspired by the fact that there weren't a lot of options.

Swap Reaper is Phantom. Name inspired by the word that means ghost. In this AU, Phantom is basically Blue if he was Reaper I guess. His Salt equilavent is Phasmid. Name inspired by stick bugs for some reason.

Swap Fresh is Tyke. Name inspired by the word that means young rascal. In this AU, Tyke is still a parasite. But with a few changes. Instead of being incredibly dark and intimidating, Tyke is very short and "cute". He is designed to deceive others and make them trust him. He bears a striking resemblance to fanon Blueberry. "Also he tawks wike dis". He wears a cute pair of glasses that neutrally say 'UwU'. But make no mistake. Despite his cutesy appearance, Tyke is still plenty dangerous. Tyke has a very similar aesthetic to a 2000s kid. His Salt equivalent is Tux. Name inspired by the word tuxedo.

Swap Science is Gizmo. Name inspired by the fact Gizmo is a nerd name I guess. Gizmo is an absolute nerd and I luv him. His Salt equivalent is Gemma. Name inspired by the fact that Gemma is also a name that starts with G.

Swap Midnight is Goji. Name inspired by Gojiberries/Wolfberries. Swaps with Ivan. Goji acts like an animal like Ivan. But instead of a dog she acts like a cat. She is still shy like Midnight and doesn't like confrontation. She'll avoid any situation she thinks may lead to that the best she can. She's also not as angry and nippy as Ivan. Goji's parents are technically Cobalt and Cyber.

Swap Ivan is Shoah. Name inspired by the word that means catastrophe. Swaps with Midnight. Shoah is very very shy. He doesn't like to talk to people because he can't really talk well himself. Shoah will often refer to himself when he speaks instead of using words like "I" or "Me". Shoah's parents are Spook and Powder.

Swap Zany is Morose. Name inspired by the word that means sullen and gloomy. Swaps with Chip. Morose is basically Zany but if he was raised by Dream. His kind nature isn't held back by his evil surroundings. Morose is very cheerful and positive. Just like Zany, Morose doesn't really have parents. Phobos made him out of positive energy.

Swap Chip is Ennui. Name inspired by the word that means bored and lethargic. Swaps with Zany. Ennui is exactly what her name is. She is neutral to almost everything. She's glued to her phone. Ennui's parents are Cobalt and Cyber.

Swap Honeydew is Durian. Name inspired by the fruit. Swaps with Domino. Durian is still a very smart and scientific skeleton. She's just a bit more dirty like Domino.

Swap Pitaya is Peach. Name inspired by the fruit (Only because Plum was taken). Swaps with Mayonnaise. Peach is a cheeky little prankster like Mayo. But her pranks are food related. Like pie in the face or broccoli in chocolate.

Swap Mayonnaise is Nutella. Name inspired by the food because it's sweet. Swaps with Pitaya. Nutella is now the yandere for Peach.

Swap Domino is Flask. Name inspired by the contain, which can be used for chemicals or alcohol. Swaps with Honeydew. Flask is still into card games and stuff like that. But he's not a gambler. He's a good boy that just likes to do card tricks and magic tricks for fun.

Swap Casper is Felix. Name inspired by the name that means fortunate and because it sounds like a rich kid's name. Swaps with Constellation. Felix is just as cruel and hateful as Casper. But it's more so a spoiled cruel like the way Constellation is. He's like a generic mean rich kid you see in cartoons. But Felix is also a tricky devil. He likes to play mind games with people just to annoy them. Felix's parents are Powder and Hunter.

Swap Constellation is Calypso. Name inspired by the goddess who goes by the same name. Swaps with Casper. Calypso is basically Constellation but if she was raised by Nightmare. Hypnos fully indulges Calypso on her spoiled cruelty. Just like Constellation, Calypso doesn't really have parents. Hypnos made her out of negative energy.

Swap Abstract is Tinker. Name inspired by the word that means to fiddle with something and repair it. Swaps with Desire. Tinker loves to fiddle with anything they can get their grubby hands on to see what they can do with it and how they can make it look prettier. They still can't speak.

Swap Scarlet is Maroon. Name inspired by the shade of dark red. Swaps with Dread. Maroon is very dull like Hunter. She constantly has a blank expression on her face. Maroon's parents are Hunter and Spook.

Swap Dread is Blanc. Name inspired by the french word that means white. Swaps with Scarlet. Blanc is very hopeful and full of life. She likes to see the beauty in everything. Blanc's parents are Cide and Phantom.

Swap Desire is Iris. Name inspired by the word that means colorful and pretty. Swaps with Abstract. Since Desire can talk I wanted to go for the complete opposite affect Abstract has. Iris never shuts up and is constantly babbling about something. She loves the arts and is always on her phone taking photos and selfies.

Undertale: Toby Fox

Blue: Popcornpr1nce

Ink: Comyet

Dream: Jokublog

Nightmare: Jokublog

Geno: Crayonqueen

Error: Crayonqueen

Fresh: Crayonqueen

Horror: Sour-Apple-Studios

Killer: Rahafwabas

Dust: Ask-Dusttale

Lust: Nsfwshamecave

Reaper: Renrink

Science: HolyTraitor

Cross: Jakei95

Ccino: Black-Nyanko

Ivan, Midnight, Zany, Chip, Domino, Mayonnaise, Pitaya, Honeydew, Constellation, Casper, Desire, Dread, Scarlet, Astract: Me

Swap Verse: Me

[howlingday]

au where jaune finds a magic sword when he's younger. it becomes his best friend and agrees to help him become a legendary hero since that's what it was made for in the first place. thing is no one else can hear it speak so everyone thinks jaune's insane. he's also extremely powerful and can use his aura in really interesting ways... he's just terrible at actually using the sword. might need some remedial training in that good thing he's going to beacon TLDR: jaune's a level 15 warlock, whos just now starting to pick up his first levels in paladin how does the story change? (just wanted to see how you think jaune's build would be different if he started off with a warlock instead of being pure paladin like we see in the show)

Hero of Dark Hope

Jaune's family trip to Vacuo had gone a strange direction. Though he was told to stay close to his sisters, his sense of adventure got the better of him... Well, his sister, too, but it's not like he tried to stop her. But the sands of Vacuo are not for those weak of heart. This lesson would be learned when he fell into a sinkhole that swallowed him faster than he could scream. He fell into the freezing cold water, thrashing about the grotto waters until he floundered his way to the cold comfort of dry land.

Jaune was alone, separate from his family. He called out to them, tears building in his eyes. He wanted to be a hero like his ancestors before him, but the cruel reality that he could die alone and so far away from his family was a very heartrending thought. He sobbed and wailed for every family member he could, hoping his voice would be carried up to them.

"ENOUGH!" Jaune whirled around to the center of the pool he was soaked from. "Your cowardice sickens me! Are you not a Maiden?!"

"N-No!" Jaune called back. "I'm a boy!"

"A boy? Where is the Maiden?"

"I'm..." Jaune gulped, sensing decreasing hostility, "I'm the only one here."

"Is that so? How did you enter my chambers?"

"I... I fell through the sands up there." Jaune pointed to the dark ceiling. Light began to glow bright from the pool until the beacon revealed itself to be a large, ornately crystalline sword floating in the air. "Who... Who are you?"

"I..." A small blue child decorated with golden strands of jewelry began, sitting atop the handle on his toes. His foxlike ears flicked as he grinned a toothy smile, "...am Yoki. The spirit who resides within the Sword of Destruction."

------------------------------------------

"Whoa! What is that?!"

"C-Crap!" Jaune quickly tucked the hilt into his back pocket. "You saw that?!"

"Heck yeah!" Ruby said with eyes shining. "What is that weapon? I've never seen a sword like that! Can I hold it?!"

'Jaune, she's annoying me.' Yoki groaned into Jaune's ears. 'Can we blow her up?'

"No!" Jaune shouted.

"Oh! Right!" Ruby cleared her throat. "May I hold it?"

"Er, n-no. I, uh..." Jaune gulped. He made a deal with Professor Ozpin about Yoki. He doesn't tell anyone about it, and nobody has to know he has it. Well, now somebody does know. The biggest weapon's nut in Beacon, if not the whole world. Well, here he was now, so now he had to deal with it.

'Now?'

"No." Jaune said with a sharp tone, making Ruby flinch. "Oh, er, s-sorry. I was... Nevermind. I'm still saying no. See, I'm kind of not supposed to tell anyone about this weapon."

"Why not?"

"Um... It's a secret?" Jaune said with a sheepish grin.

'Wow, that was a really bad lie.'

"Wow, that was a really bad lie." Ruby echoed. "But I can respect your decision. And you can trust me! I won't tell anyone about your secret Grimm-killing weapon!"

"Thanks, Ruby." Jaune let out a huge sigh. "But, uh, since we're already keeping secrets, how about I at least bring you up to speed on me and Yoki."

"Yoki?" Ruby asked. "Why's your sword named Yoki?"

'I'm not HIS sword!' Yoki screeched, making Jaune cringe. 'I'm my own sword!'

"They're, uh, really sensitive about saying they're my sword. It's more like I'm borrowing it."

"Oh, you mean like Crocea Mors?"

"...Kinda?"

------------------------------------------

Jaune clashed hard with Cinder in the realm between Kingdoms. He was so close to getting people safely out of Atlas, but then SHE had to show up of all times! With Crocea Mors destroyed, he had no choice but to bring out the big guns. Or big sword in this case.

"Finally!" Cinder said with glee. "I'll have three relics in one go!"

"You'll have to kill me, first!" Jaune charged at her, blade at the ready.

"That's the idea!"

Cinder swooped low, swinging her glass sword in with an intense heat behind it. Jaune could feel it, but it would still shatter into, well, glass once Jaune and Yoki struck against her. Seeing him easily best her sword, she expanded the distance, shifting her tactics to more ranged options. Arrows sliced through the air as Jaune backed away, his aura already catching a few. He was smart enough to swat them off once he felt the heat.

'Yoki, do you trust me?'

'Not a good time to ask, but yes.'

'Good, because I have a dumb plan.'

'As if that ever changed anything.'

Jaune decided to close the distance, charging towards Cinder, who continued to fire makeshift arrows. He dove, his hair receiving a small shave of a few strands. As he rolled forward, the exploding arrow launched him like a missile along the ground. As his shield skidded against the ground, he activated the gravity dust, the shock racking his body as he suddenly launched backwards, into the air. As he soared high into the air, Cinder chased after him with manic glee on her face. He readied Yoki, roaring as he came crashing towards her.

"CINDEEEEEER!"

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hello there! I don't know if anyone has asked for this, but do you happen to know any fic on which Stiles and Derek are colleague nurses or doctors, and they meet each other in that setting?

Hey @darkmind-ofmine! Here you go.

(^gpoy at work. true facts)

Pretty Eyes by Inell

(1/1 I 1,720 I Teen)

Stiles doesn’t intend to become a resident during a pandemic, but he’s learned to roll with whatever life throws his way.

The Anatomy of an FBI Agent by orphan_account

(2/? I 7,347 I Mature)

Stiles nodded. It sounded like a day full of machinery and doctors muttering over his scans.

“Will I be hanging out with you or one of the babies?”

Dr. Cutie grinned. “How could I trust them with my most prized patient?”

Stiles laughed.

He barely noticed the pain.

Bet On It by IDreamOnlyOfYou (lauren3210)

(1/1 I 8,343 I Mature)

Stiles is an RN and Derek the attending trauma surgeon at Beacon Hills Hospital. They're constantly arguing, much to the amusement of their colleagues, who ultimately decide to take bets on when the sexual tension will finally explode. The only question is, who will win the jackpot?

Or

5 times one of the guys try to push Derek and Stiles together, and the time they worked it out all on their own.

Complications by DIEMONDS

(3/? I 17,273 I Teen)

“We can still be strangers. Strangers that hook up.” Stiles had to mentally curse at himself for liking Derek’s smirk. He honestly couldn’t help it, the man’s smile was too gorgeous.

“No!” Stiles ran a hand through his hair. “What we did-you and me-that cannot happen again! You’re an attending, and I’m your intern! It’s wrong on so many levels.”

(this isn’t exactly) where you’d want me by decideophobia

(1/1 I 19,070 I Teen)

“Do you even have any nice and soothing words in your repertoire?” Stiles asks, holding still while McBroody shines a light into his eyes. “Or is it only me who they let you loose on?”

“I actually just downloaded a new set of comforting phrases to use on patients this morning but I haven’t had a chance to listen to and internalize them yet. I do know how to say, Good news: you’re not dead, and We only need to take off one of your legs, though.”

OR, the one where Stiles keeps ending up in the ER and Derek almost gets brain damage from so much stupid.

Hazardous to Our Health by HenleyBeck

(6/? I 21,590 I Explicit)

Derek has just moved back to Beacon Hills and he works at the hospital with his sister. He loves his job, he loves the people he works with and then there's Stiles. Stiles who seems to pop up everywhere that Derek is and it doesn't help that everybody loves the kid. But Stiles is also the Chief of Surgery's son and there's no way he can get involved with Stiles right?

Wrong. As a doctor, Derek knows that certain things can be hazardous to one's health but sometimes it's nice to live dangerously.

Yin To His Yang by weirdwithhumor

(9/? I 26,125 I Teen)

Derek always wanted kids. He just thought he would find the perfect man, get married and settled down first.

He just never thought he would be left pregnant, unmated at nearly 30, and on a journey to become a single father.

But, Doctor! by stilinskisparkles

(1/1 I 30,269 I Mature)

“We had to splint a girl’s leg in a ditch,” Scott says excitedly.

“Bro, you sound way too happy about that,” Stiles complains, opening up his bag and pulling out a Twinkie.

Derek removes it from his hand silently and replaces it with an apple. Stiles scowls at him for a second then bites into it, regardless. Derek sits back and lets the group discuss the merits of dramatic lifesaving feats for winning over the ladies. Scott is convinced it’ll help impress Allison; Isaac thinks Scott’s a loser. Stiles—

Stiles is falling asleep on Derek’s shoulder.

AND

@wolfspurr suggested this one!

No Superman by WhoNatural

(6/6 I 48,830 I Explicit I Sterek)

(AKA The Sterek Scrubs AU)

In which Stiles learns that med school didn’t prepare him for much at all; even the most epic of bromances can be weakened with the right amount of long, curly hair and dimples; and sometimes, first impressions aren’t all they’re cracked up to be - it’s the digging beneath the bravado that reveals who’s worth getting to know a little better.

Dr. Hale’s probably still a dick, though.

[meebles]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

Tagged by @frostbitebakery thank you!!

Meant to do this earlier but I was waiting for bodyswap AU inspiration to hit and it finally did :D

This is much more than a last line, so I'm also counting this as one of my WIP poll results. It's a direct continuation of this Codywan Bodyswap!AU snippet found here

The way Cody comes awake— terribly slow and sluggish— is how he knows something is very wrong. By nature, he’s a light sleeper. Hard not to be, when one is fighting a galactic war. So once Cody fights through the haze of his mind to find his wits, he understands the haze itself means he’s drugged up, which can only mean he’s in the damned medbay— He blinks open, suspicions confirmed by the bright white, sterile lighting that’s nearly blinding him. He grunts, turns his head, and— Oh, no. It shouldn’t be so disconcerting, staring at his own face. Theoretically, he does so every day of his life, probably at least a hundred times a day. But there’s something so wrong about staring at that scar on his temple, the armor markings— his markings, perhaps the only thing that’s ever been truly his— staring at them through this strange, warped perspective— It comes back to him, suddenly and severely. One minute he’d been drinking with other officers down in storage, and the next he was— well, he couldn’t recall where exactly, the only thing he remembers is what felt like a thousand other people inside his head, so many feelings and emotions and sensations rushing through his mind, an overwhelming bombardment that was too much too much too much— And then, Obi-Wan. He remembers initially mistaking his voice (Cody’s own voice) for another vod, until it so clearly and obviously Obi-Wan. Like a beacon in the mist he’d been there, offering a guiding hand, trying to help him, talk him through. In the moment, he can’t say it was very effective, but looking back through the thick, harried confusion, he more than appreciates the effort. And now, as he looks up, he recognizes that distinct expression of Obi-Wan’s concern— it’s one he’d recognize anywhere, even now, on a completely different face.

Tagging (no pressure ofc): @ferretrade @insertmeaningfulusername @afoundling @dontbelasagnax @happybean17 @foreverchangingfandomsao3 @elismor @petrifiedforests @thebrainofoctavian @mxopifex @lttrsfrmlnrrgby @jedi-enthusiast and anyone else who wants to!

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

Toga’s AU Concept

He visited Sanctum on a whim, he was in Mistral visiting his niece Saphron after all, why not visit the school that was training it’s future protectors… Was it truly chance that it happened when he got there at that moment. That he stumbled upon the horrified students backing away from a scene from a horror movie.

A girl over a boy, her skin pale, hair a dull gold but utterly contrast by the crimson of the boy beneath her, of his blood leaking, his eyes wide in equal parts horror and confusion as the girl above him drank deeply. Her aura lighting, brightening with every drop more she drunk.

But from her eyes another purely liquid dripped, tears that contradicted the madness in her eyes, others stood confused. But not him, never him, he didn’t hesitate, to hesitate was the let others suffer. The girl moved with surprising grace, avoiding him while her features altered, matching her victim’s.

His hand reached out as he enforced his soul into him, willing thew boy’s body to mend though his soul’s light. The second he saw the student’s face gain some of it’s blush ensured his life her turned on her and launched after the girl.

She’d been smart to run instead of fight, it was a fight she wouldn’t win, couldn’t win, but escaping was just a futile. She was fast, agile and athletic yes, but he was a skilled tracker. If she was faster, he just had to rely on endurance to carry him through.

And it did…

She’d been locked up, and they were debating her sentence, the sentence for an aura user with combat training, she was a threat. And perhaps he should’ve left it well enough alone, but he didn’t, and spoke to her.

And he realized the tragic madness that spurred her on. Toga Himiko was not a monster, she was a girl, gifted with a powerful Semblance, great potential and an honest easily corruptible heart. One’s semblance could influence a persons personality quite easily. After all, it was the manifest of your being, of your soul. How could you not begin to ponder its meaning, how could you not attempt to reflect it’s nature on your person, within your actions.

She was dangerous yes, unstable without a doubt… But, she was also alone, her family couldn’t understand her and feared her for it. Somewhere inside he knew she understood her sense of love was twisted. Was not the norm, after all, why else would she have cried when expressing it.

This was no monster, no villain of demon, she was a girl, a pitiful, lonely, misunderstood child who wanted nothing more then to express her love the only way she could. They way her very soul demanded she act out. All she wanted was a connection, was someone to understand her, was to have friends, family and a love that could accept her deviant nature, a nature she had no control of.

How could he call himself a Huntsman if he couldn’t save a single girl from her crippling, cruel loneliness. So he visited her, again and again, using his pull and connection with Ozpin to freeze the freeze the girl’s sentencing while he worked things out.

She started to look forward to meeting him, and he’d admit to the same, after all she was so cheerful and oddly endearing. If not for her eyes being amber instead of blue he’d had thought her one of his nieces.

Apparently after he started visiting regularly she ceased any resisting and even halted trying to escape, he started to bring her things, even cooking for the girl. Not helping but to feel she needed food a bit better then what they served here.

… He hadn’t expected her to cry, she, she couldn’t remember then last time her mom had made her food… The last time they treated her like a daughter instead of a Grimm. It angered him, it infuriated the Arc. But he held his tongue, and focused on what mattered.

On calling in favors, on talking to his family and getting his affairs in order, Jaune was many things, he was a Huntsman, next in line to be patriarch to the Arc House and a teacher at Beacon. But he was also a criminal who’d cheated his way into Beacon once upon a time. His hands had cut down men, his decisions as a leader had led to the death of innocents before as well.

Toga almost killed a boy, she needed help, needed understanding, to be given a chance. And he was all to willing to risk giving her one.

-0-0-0-

She tried to be normal, to live normally, to act normally, to love normally, she tried so hard, it was also such a struggle, other people’s normal. Other people being able to express themselves, to be themselves and be accepted for it. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, why couldn’t her way be normal… Why couldn’t she be accepted?

Why couldn’t her parents understand her, accept her, but no, they told her it was wrong, that to be so fascinated by blood was wrong, sick and twisted. That she needed to be normal… Were they saying her soul was wrong? She could feel it, ever since her semblance first manifested, since she stumbled upon it so long ago when she’d licked her wound…

Blood was to the body what aura was to the soul, it was beautiful, profound and unique to every person, and she, she could understand it, could indulge, could become others through their blood, she could understand them, be them… It was her normal.

But her parents refused to accept her normal, society refused it, the world and everyone in it refused it… She obeyed, she tried, she struggled to be everyone else’s normal… Until she met him.

Saito was a amazing boy, he was kind, smart and popular, everyone liked him, everyone respected him, just like a lot of other girls she grew to like him. So often she fought the urge to ask him for some of his blood, she wanted to be like him, to know him, to Become him…

But she smothered those urges, because she knew he could not accept them, nobody could accept a freak like her so she resisted the urge. She fought to stay ‘Normal’ To be a average, cheerful, reasonable, well-mannered girl that others could accept, even if it was all a act…

But then Saito got into a fight, and seeing him like that… so wonderfully bruised and bloodied, it made what was so twisted inside go crazy. And it all came crashing down… And she was upon him, moving on not instinct but pure natural movement, as unconsciously as one breathed she gave to her semblance’s nature.

His flesh parting so easily from a mere box cutter, his aura was shattered in the fight with other beforehand. She drunk from him, his blood tasting like the sweetest of irons, so warm, so filling, so unique to him and him alone…

It was ecstasy, finally, finally she got to be herself, she was able to express her love, she felt herself turning into him. His aura, his soul, his being, she understood it so much more in that moment. She knew it was all over, her life, all her efforts, they would come crashing down. But for just a moment, she wanted it, to be her own normal, to be herself…

And then he appeared, he saved Saito, and stopped her, his gaze held so much in it, there was the anger and disgust she expected, but also something new… Pity.

His name was Jaune Arc, he was a Huntsman, a professor, and he stopped her, but he didn’t stop there. He should up to met her in her jail cell, they talked, well, he talked, asking why she did it. And eventually she explained… And, and he listened.

He didn’t understand, but… But he tried to, he asked more, and she could see it, the disgust this anger and confusion, but never was that all she saw. She could see him trying, struggling to comprehend. Time and time again he’d visit, and talk to her, ask her question she’d never considered, asked if she thought what she did was okay.

She knew it wasn’t you can’t force your love on others, but he understood, not because it was normal to him, or because he was like her. No, because he tried to do what nobody else did… He tried to understand her.

He wanted to help her, and then he asked.

“Toga, I need to hear you say it, where you trying to kill Saito?” She knew he needed to hear her say it, so she did.

“No, I just, I wanted to express my love…” And then he told her.

“Toga, you’re not normal, but that’s okay, everyone is different, it’s what makes us unique, what makes life beautiful.” He hugged her.

���You’re not a monster, or a Grimm, your human, and you’ve been through so much.” He was warm… The words slipped from her mouth.

“Please, can I, can I drink your blood.” He paused and she knew she’d be rejected, pushed away and left alone…

“Toga, listen.” But she wasn’t rejected, pushed away, instead the man met her gaze, a sternness in his gaze but also a sympathy, one she’d never seen before.

“You don’t behave like others, and it can be dangerous.” She knew that, of course she did.

“But it doesn’t have to be.” He begun to glow, a soft, kind but powerful white.

“I know, you can help people, more than even I can with your semblance.” His big, calloused hand landed on her head.

“The same way you can take other’s blood, if you gave your love back, you could help so many people.” She shook, she’d thought that too, but, but never hoped others would, would.

“You’re not a monster, twisted or evil Toga, your just different, your semblance, your soul, your beautiful.” It was the smile of a father, of someone who genuinely wanted nothing more than to help her, then to comfort the girl who’d spent her entire if not short life being rejected by others.

“Himiko, I can’t just let you free, unfortunately the law is very clear on that.” She saw the sadness, the anger in his eyes, it was for her sake. But soon enough they were both overtaken by what she would come to know was his most prominent trait, Determination.

“If you agree to it, to come to Vale you can be put on Probation, under my supervision. I’’ be your guardian and probationary officer.” She knew her parents must’ve given up their rights to her by the slight anger that burned in his eyes.

“We’ll attend therapy lessons and you’ll be taught about aura control by me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled it out then, a vial, the most beautiful shade of red.

“Toga, I know the way you view things are different then mine own, but that doesn’t mean you can’t understand me, you lived in this world, acted appropriately for it as well. You understand how the general public views love.” He offered her the vial, the beautiful crimson flowing with his aura, with his soul.

“I can’t promise others will accept your views, or even try, but I promise, at the very least I will do everything I can to make a environment you can be yourself in… And that I’ll try my best to understand you.” She reached, her fingers grazing the glass, the vial warm… Her heart pounded as she looked to the beautiful crimson.

Slowly, cautiously she undid the top, he never looked away from her, never tore his gaze from the sight, there was no rejection as she took him into her. As she felt his soul through his aura, as his being and iron went down her throat becoming one with her.

She felt herself change, becoming him, her pale ash-blonde hair becoming a shade of livid golden-wheat, her fair skin pinking with a healthy flush. The slits of her pupils dilating, the Faunus trait vanishing as her pupils rounded and turned the most expressive blue.

Her aura converting, her soul changing and being replicating that as her very body matched the new soul she was temporarily hosting. And he looked at her through it all, reaching out and patting her head, the smile was genuine.

“If this is how you want to be that’s fine, I’ll learn to get used to it, but please, don’t stop being yourself, even if your appearance changes.” From his hand aura surged into her, his aura, given freely, pure and unfiltered.

Her answer finally came alongside the tears.

“Yes.”

-0-0-0-

She rushed down the hall from her room, excited for the day she’d looked forward to for so long, she couldn’t wait. Reaching the kitchen she found three people there, her sister and brother, Ren and Nora, two others he’d taken under his wing.

At the stove flipping the immense amount of pancakes the Valkyrie craved was Jaune, they waved to her, well Jaune and Nora did. Ren sat patiently at his seat enjoying his tea, she sat there beside them, besides two people who knew her, truly knew her, who accepted her almost as much as Jaune.

Two simple years was all she spent with him, but in those two years she’d felt more joy, more acceptance then ever before. She’d realized truths about herself and flaws in her actions.

She was free to express her love, but not to enforce it on others, to take from people who did not want to return her affections. It was wrong, cruel and that act whether it be her form of expressing love or ordinary expression of it by others were no less disgusting.

She’d help so many people with her feelings though, a little blood and she’d given so much back in turn, to children who needed it, to people with unique cases and blood types meant nothing to her semblance with regular people. She couldn’t help but want to help, even if Jaune worried, she loved him for that… She loved him, loved him more then others. More then anyone else.

But it wasn’t the same type of love she always felt, always knew, no, this was different, she wanted to both love him and be loved by him. To be loved as Toga Himiko, by Jaune, she didn’t want him to conform to her standard of love.

It wouldn’t be fair, it’d be like who she was forced to follow the standard society before she met him, she wanted to love Jaune as herself but also as him whenever the fancy struck her. But she also wanted to love him as Ren did, as Nora did, as so many of his students did…

And soon, she would be able to, today would be the start of it, a plated landed in front of her then, and looking up she met his smile.

“Are you ready Toga, your three will be trying out for Beacon today after all. So you all need to eat up.” He served her her breakfast, more than Ren’s but nothing near the mountain of pancakes he placed before her eccentric sister. But then again the pile her put before himself was barely any smaller. He needed it after all, because he regularly gave her blood, regularly accepted her form of expressing it and indulged that aspect of her.

She loved him for it, wanted to love him even more, even deeper, more intimately then any other, and once she passed Initiation she would. She only hoped that when she did succeed, her partner would be as understanding as her.

Maybe even being able to understand her love, Or Better Yet! Maybe They’ll Love Jaune As Much As She Does! Oh ‘Giggle’ she meant Professor Arc.