#anyway red is an absolute delight to work with and so very talented

[mingtinysworld]

Hold me tight

Pairing: daddy!yunho x little!reader

Genre: DDLG, fluff, comfort, angst

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Coming home from a very overwhelming day, your caretaker Yunho is there for you through the emotional turmoil

A/n: so delving into more ddlg type content has been on my mind for a really long time now. I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but it’s really special to me and I hope that you can enjoy it. I think Yunho fits the role of a caretaker perfectly, and I can really imagine him being so sweet yet authoritative with his partner. Anyways, this was so sweet it gave me diabetes, so beware. I love youuu pls like, comment and reblog - J

Cutie divider credit to @bunnysrph

The tears are making your vision blurry as you force your way through the filled hallways. Desperately needing to reach your car, you start jogging. People around you are looking at you strangely, as if you’ve gone crazy. Being so out of it, you don’t even notice, your only train of thought being to get out of there.

Finally getting inside the car, you take in a shaky breath and keep clenching and unclenching your fists. You take a minute to calm down in order to be able to drive home safely. Turning the ignition, you take off in the opposite direction of the university. As you drive, sobs escape your body, and you can’t seem to be able to stop. You feel absolutely pathetic for letting the anxiety and stress get the best of you.

You step on the gas, wanting to get to Yunho as fast as possible. You desperately need his steady and comforting presence. You run through multiple red lights, surprised you haven’t been hit yet. As you pull into the driveway your breathing intensifies, feeling so close yet so far from comfort.

You run to the door, and open it with such an urgency that it startles Yunho, who is casually lounging on the couch. He sits up with alarm at your abrupt entrance and jumps to his feet. You run to him and throw your arms around his neck, putting your whole weight onto him. He reciprocates by holding your body and pulling your legs up around his waist.

“Shh I got you baby,” he speaks with a soft tone. He doesn’t question anything and just holds you so close. He sits back down on the couch bringing you along with him. You bury your head into his neck, crying softly, tears staining his shirt. He rubs your back soothingly, slowly bringing you down from your tangled emotions.

“Daddy why am I like this?” You ask with a hoarse whisper.

“Like what sweetheart?” Yunho questions.

You take a few seconds, collecting your thoughts. Yunho waits patiently, running a soft hand through your hair. You shakily breathe and lift your head up to make eye contact.

“I feel so pathetic. I feel like I can’t ever do anything right. Why do I feel overwhelmed by so many things? I get overwhelmed by work, by school, by my own friends. I can’t handle the loud noises and I feel like I fail at every task. It’s just…all too much.” A sob escapes you and Yunho looks at you with eyes that hold so many emotions. He would do absolutely anything for you, if only it meant it would guarantee your happiness.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re not pathetic. Not at all. Everyone has different capabilities and limits, and that’s ok. You have so many talents, so many amazing attributes. And you are so so beautiful. You’re my girl aren’t you?” He looks at you expectantly.

You look down shyly, not meeting his eyes. “Yes, yes I am.”

He beams with delight. “That’s right baby, you’re my girl, and always will be. I’m here to take care of you. I know the days are hard, but I will do whatever I can to make it easier on you. All I want you to do is turn off your pretty little brain and let me take care of you alright?”

Your heart aches from the care you’re being shown. You love Yunho so much. He is so much more than a partner. He’s your caretaker, your lifeline, your forever. You hold so much love and respect for him that you’re not sure how to even contain it. You just feel like exploding with affection.

“Now, I want you to eat something. I know you must’ve not eaten today, so that’s priority number one. I made some stir fry earlier, would you like some?” He asks.

“Daddyyy I don’t wanna eat. I’m not hungry.” You try your well known pout, not expecting it to work at all.

“Nuh uh, don’t give me that look. You’re eating, even if it’s a little bit.” He says in a mock stern voice.

He lifts you up with him and you head to the kitchen. You sit by the table, just watching him prepare plates. You swing your legs back and forth, already feeling so much better. He comes with the food and sits next to you. He tries to make you laugh constantly, and you giggle uncontrollably, almost having choked twice already.

“Here comes the airplaneee brrrrr” he flies the fork around, having the silliest look on his face.

You screech with laughter. “Yunho! I’m not a baby!”

“Oh? I thought you were? Huh, must have the wrong person.” He grabs his chin as if he’s in deep thought. You let out a snort at his antics and he raises a goofy eyebrow at you.

“Ah I see. You think this is funny.”

You shake your head quickly. “Nope! Not at all.” You purse your lips trying to keep in the laughter.

All of a sudden his lips attack your face in a bout of violent smooches. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, any exposed skin he can find. You squeal as he holds you so tight.

“That’s for not taking me seriously.” He pretends as if he’s so offended. You let him get away with it and just laugh at him.

Finally, one more round of a kiss attack later, the food is finished and you’re feeling full yet completely exhausted. He leads you to the bedroom and changes you into your comfy pajamas. Then he sets you down onto the bathroom counter, brushing your teeth for you. You can’t keep your eyes open anymore, so you just let Yunho do all the work. He then gets into bed with you, making sure you’re all covered and snuggled underneath the layers.

“I love you sweet girl. I can’t even express fully just how much I love you truly. Even more than the whole universe, bigger than the biggest thing that ever exists. You are so worthy, you deserve happiness, and you are enough. I want you to know that it’s ok to have off days, and it’s ok to be overwhelmed. But I will be there every step of the way with you, I won’t ever abandon you. Daddy loves you so much, and wants the best for you.” He leaves a sweet kiss on your forehead as your lashes flutter.

You snuggle closer to his chest and let the tension escape your body. You let out a content sigh and let your mind go empty.

“I love you too daddy.”

[apriltearsbringmayfears]

Oh wow! You definitely have talent here. As much as I'd love to flood your inbox with requests, I also do hope you're taking time for yourself. You deserve all the good things in life.

Anyways, I would love to request the M6 getting a haircut from MC? With some extra fluff, if possible.

Thank you very kindly. I hope to see more of your work on here soon.

~M6 Getting a Haircut from MC~

Hi Anon! Thank you for the request, I hope you like it. I apologize if there isn't enough fluff. Midterms were this week and I've been a little sidetracked. However, my requests are always open or if you want me to write something more personal (like a oneshot) about a specific character, feel free to DM me (100% free, I don't do commissions :D ) 

Asra:

Asra has most definitely cut his hair himself before

However, he’d much rather have you do it

His hair has gotten a little shaggy, fully covering his eyes

Asra runs his fingers through his wavy hair and moves in front of you, inches away from your face

“MC, could you give me a trim? I can’t see you’re beautiful face enough-“

You run your fingers through his hair, almost massaging his scalp

His hair is incredibly soft (fun fact: that's canon)

He’s looking up at you the entire time, his hand planted on your waist

After, he looks in the mirror and smiles softly, “Absolutely gorgeous, MC”

He kisses all over your face, pulling you close

Nadia:

To be cutting her hair is a true honor and privilege

Only specific servants or well-known stylists have cut it in the past

But one day she looks at you and the thought entertains her

She’s feeling risky 

“Darling, would you like to try trimming my hair? Just my pesky dead ends..?”

She’s watching you like a hawk, giving directions (lovingly)

Her hair is silky smooth with a natural shine

It turns out great, she starts twirling her hair with a finger, admiring it

“You deserve a reward darling, anything you want~”

There’s a suggestive gleam in her eye

She decides to pop a special bottle of wine and have a nice dinner prepared

Julian:

Julian usually cuts his hair

But one day he thinks it might be fun to look up to you and have you do it for him

Not that he doesn’t already look up at you a lot of the time anyways *cough cough*

He’s twiddling his thumbs once you start cutting, face red 

His hair is pretty coarse and soft to the touch

You brush his hair from the front of his face, he leans into your hand

“You’re so good at this, MC”, he grins

Sort of gives you puppy dog eyes the entire time

He most definitely has you standing in between his legs, his thighs almost trapping you

After it’s done, he runs his hands through his hair “Mazelinka is going to be impressed, you know?”

He buys you a drink after, proudly showing off his new cut

Muriel:

Muriel has always been the one to cut his hair

Not sure if “cut” is the right word, it’s more like chop

He’s never given much thought about his hairstyle

You ask if you can cut it because it’s getting a little long and you can tell he’s getting a bit annoyed at the length

“I…uhh, I guess”, he looks away blushing

His hair is a little rough, with lots of dead ends but still soft and easy to take care of

At first, he’s tense, his shoulders are bunched up

But after a while, his shoulders go down and he closes his eyes

He finds it comforting and peaceful, leaning into you

After it’s done and he sees the end result, he just smiles

Pulls you close and kisses your forehead, “Thank you, MC”

Portia:

In the past, Portia would cut her hair herself or have Mazelinka cut her hair 

“You know what would be fun, MC?”

She practically bounces in front of you, curls bobbing up and down

“If we cut each other's hair!!”, she beams a bright smile

While you’re cutting, her feet are patting the ground in excitement

Her hair is soft, her curls are very defined and somehow never become frizzy

Pepi comes out of nowhere, looking at the situation and meowing in delight

“She says you’re doing a wonderful job~”

After the haircut, Portia won’t stop telling everyone what an amazing job you did

She’s incredibly proud

Lucio:

Lucio is the pickiest about who cuts his hair

His pride and joy are his looks (other than you)-

He quickly realizes that not many people want to cut his hair anymore, urging him to ask you

His hair is smooth, he takes well care of it

He’s directing you the entire time

“No, no, like this-“

He has photos for reference (paintings of himself)

He takes your hands and directs you on how to cut

His thumb is lovingly circling your palm

“There you go, sweetheart, just like that~”

He ends up loving it, and won’t stop looking at himself in the mirror

[lufdraws]

attention duelists! behold, funky wips of a super secret ygo project we’ve been working on w/ the delightful @codedredalert 💝💝

[theveryworstthing]

So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

[sevendeadlymorons]

hello! can i request for the brother and undateables (if you don’t want simeon is just okay) headcanons for seeing mc sketches book and mc drew some positions with them? thank you! (sorry if i bothered you and my english is not will)

Sorry for the delay in writing your request, i really like this idea and I will get right on it for you :)

You absolutely did not bother me whatsoever and your English was great btw x

Brothers + Undateables Reaction to Seeing MC’s Sketchbook

——————————————————

Lucifer

Saw it lying on your desk when he came in to clean your room

He was never one to pry but he eventually found himself flicking through the pages of the book

Each page was filled with sketches of flowers or scenery or the cats that wander outside the house

He was so intrigued by these intricate drawings of yours, finding himself rather impressed by the skill you had

Around about the end, he notices sketches of his brothers, each in particular poses, drawn in such beautiful detail

He smiles to himself as he continues to flick through multiple pages of Asmo, not really surprised that he’s the main model of your drawings

That’s when he came across one of him

It was him sitting down in his study, enjoying the sound of one of his records. He didn’t even know you drew him.

It looked so real, like it was a photo. The way the shading was so perfect and how you drew his small smile so delicately. Incredible.

He was so taken back, he had to see more

Walks past you in the corridor with your sketchbook behind his back

I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if he borrowed it for a little while

Mammon

Bust into your room to tell you about this massive loss he had gambling again but you weren’t there

He looked around but all he could find was a singular book lay open on your bed

One peek couldn’t hurt, he thought, already flicking through the contents of the book

His eyes widen as he saw more and more of your art, each drawing so filled with detail

Since when was his human so talented, and when were they planning on telling him?

He kept flicking through until he saw his brothers in several different poses

He felt kind of hurt that you’d never asked him to model for you before

Each page that went by, the more impressed he was

This has gotta be worth a lot with how incredible these drawings are

Suddenly, he reached one of him. He was surprised since you’ve never asked him to model for you so when did you draw this?

It was him smiling while counting his money in his room. He didn’t want to know how you got this to be honest

But he was amazed by the detail put in. The amount of time you must have put into this makes his cheeks blush like crazy at the thought of you drawing something so time consuming for him

He ran out, notebook to chest, flicking through the pages with a goofy smile on his face in his room

Leviathan

Didn’t mean to snoop, just casually found it open on your desk so how could he resist...

His jaw dropped as he flicked through, admiring the never ending sketches of scenery or animals

Literally woooaaahhh’s in his head after looking at each drawing

Gets to his brothers drawings and he’s amazed

You can draw realistic too??!

His mind is running wild at the thought of you drawing all his favourite anime characters

Wonders if there’s any of him but he can’t remember you asking him to pose for any so he gets sorta upset

Who’d want to draw a yucky otaku like him anyway

Continues to flick through, still trying to get over how good the one before was until he sees the one on the next page and he’s starting all over again

In complete awe at how incredible they all were, each detail perfect and the facial features were sharp and precise every single time

Onto the next page and he felt his heart beat out of his chest. No way, could it be...

It was a drawing of him, focused on his game with this concentrated look on his face. When did you even draw that?! He feels his entire face burning up as he stares at himself. You drew him so well...

Clutches the book to his chest, very very close to tears, and runs off to find you to ask you to draw him and Ruri-Chan

Satan

Walks past and sees you drawing in this little book so peeps over your shoulder to see what you were doing

He’s overcome with surprise as he stares at your beautiful drawing of the flower that was sitting on the table in front of you

He crosses his arms on top of your head and laughs as you jump out of your seat, holding the notebook tightly to your chest

He apologise for snooping but tells you how incredible he thinks your art is, watching your face closely as it turns red

He asks if he can see more as your current drawing had intrigued him, and held out his hand to you

You hesitate but happily hand it over, sitting back down and patting the seat next to you

You watch as he flicks through, his eyebrows raising every few times, then looking over and flashing you a smile

Why didn’t he know about this? These drawings were incredible

He especially liked the drawings of the stray cats outside, as his face lit up, pointing and telling you the names of the ones you drew

When he got to his brothers, he couldn’t help but be massively impressive at the intricate detail you put into them as well as the unique poses you put them in to

He doesn’t remember you asking him to pose for anything but he continues to flick through, hopeful

As he flick the page, he comes face to face with a drawing of him. His eyes widen as he scans over the drawing of him holding a book between his fingers as his face looking tranquil and calm.

He looks over at you who had a nervous face, obviously trying to figure out if he liked it or not, to which he smiles widely and tells you he’ll be borrowing it as he’d really like to see more

Asmodeus

You left a book in his room after he’d finished paining your nails

He went to go return it to you when he felt the sudden urge to take a peek inside before hand

Maybe it’s something erotic, he thinks, as he begins to open the book on his bed

When he first sees your drawings, it’s so much better than anything erotic he’s ever seen

His lips twist into a sweet smile as he flicks through the book, his hand resting on his chin, making small humming noises every few seconds

He never knew you were an artist!

The drawings of his brothers were beautiful and he felt sorta jealous that he hasn’t seen a single one of him yet

He desperately turned page after page, searching for drawings of him

At the final page, he finally saw himself. He was speechless as he stares at the incredibly drawn masterpiece of him.

It was of him sitting sweetly on the couch, looking at his freshly paint nails with delight, the drawing perfectly capturing the mood of the moment

He squeals as he hugs the book to his chest as if it was his prized possession

He goes running after you to ask if he could model for more of your art as it was love at first sight

Beelzebub

On his daily snoop around in your room for snacks when he saw a small notebook on your desk

He didn’t want to invade your privacy but he was just too tempted, one peek wouldn’t hurt

He opened it and was greeted by your incredible art. He stopped eating and stared at it, completely in shock at how good they were

He kept flicking through all your little quick draws. Flowers, animals and food. He especially liked those ones

When he came across his brothers, all in these complex poses, he smiled wide and began flicking through to find him, quite excited to see what you drew for him

He went past Belphie’s and a sweet smile spread across his face as he imagined you trying to keep him awake so you could draw him

He kept flipping through but there was still no sign of him. He felt sorta left out at that thought but kept on going through hopefully

Finally, on the very last page, was a drawing of him. It wasn’t like any of his brothers tho, it was him completely in his zone

He had a burger in his hand and was going in to bite down on it, a grin plastered on his lips as the perfect detail showed joy in his eyes

He stares on, wide eyed. This was amazing. He wanted to keep it and store it somewhere so he could look at it forever

Picks up the book to go find you, wandering around like an excited puppy

He was going to give you the biggest hug you’ve ever experienced

Belphegor

Was asleep on the sofa opposite you when the sound of a pencil sketching on a piece of paper woke him up, so he opens his eyes and begins to sit up, rubbing his eyes and looking towards where the sound was coming from

Immediately sees you drawing away into a book, to which he raises his eyebrow and walks behinds you to take a peek

You didn’t seem to notice him getting up as you were completely focused on your sketch so he looks over your shoulder to see a sketch of... him.

Were you just drawing him sleeping?

Thought it was sorta cute actually

He admired how you delicately put in extra minor details that made the drawing look so realistic to him

He couldn’t take his eyes off it, your drawing was incredible

And you drew him lookin good too

You felt something tickle your neck so you turned around quickly to see Belphie peering over your shoulder, staring straight at your art, a big smile plastered on his smug face

Your face burns up in embarrassment as you realise he saw you drawing him sleeping but he just responds with a small laugh and a pat on the head as he jumps over the couch to sit next to you, offering out his hand in a way of saying “let me see”

He flicks through all your nature sketches and the ones of him and Beel, not really bothering about his other brothers, a persistent smile on his lips and a hand glued to your thigh

He was impressed, but surprised he never knew. He really wanted to take it so he could look at it more

So he did just that. Stood up, sketchbook in hand, straight towards the attic to binge through every single drawing in there

Diavolo

You came over to him and asked him to hold your book while you went to go do something, to which he agreed and carried on with his work

He kept eying it on the desk next to him. He’s never been one to snoop, but he couldn’t help but look at it

He flicked through the pages, each one filled to the brim with sketches, doodles and beautiful portraits

He couldn’t believe his eyes, you drew these?

The artwork was captivating, so stunning and detailed with each one he flipped through

He chose well when he picked you to be his exchange student, so talented

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of you putting the brothers into these poses and making them sit still for hours while you drew them

He found that a smile appeared on his face as he looked at all the antics the brothers get into which you skilfully drew to savour the moment

That’s when he found himself. Sat graciously on his throne with a huge grin on his face. The detail so incredible it looked almost real. His jaw dropping slightly at the mere sight of it

When was this drawn?

But he didn’t care, he was smiling giddily at it. Honoured you’d spend your personal time drawing him

He knows who his next royal artist is going to be

Barbatos

Diavolo had a little party organised for you and the brothers and when he saw you enter with a book lodged under your arm, he was rather intrigued

Watches as you walk out mid way through the event to an empty room, book still in hand, and so he decides to follow you in case you wanted company

Walks in to see you, pencil in hand, scribbling away at the book

He sits next to you and you jump, startled at his sudden presence

He asks what it is you’re doing and stares down at your open book, watching his eyebrows raise in surprise at your art work

Your face flushes pink as he offers out his hand, asking to see more. You nod and hand it over to him, watching him flick through the pages

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Your art was excellent and so detailed. Even the small sketches were near perfection

He looks over at you and flashes you a small genuine smile of delight

When he sees the drawings of the brothers, he chuckles and compliments you on how well drawn they are

When he turned the next page, he didn’t expect to see himself though

He was sat cross legged with a cup of tea in his fingers, his face visibly delighted

He clears his throat in surprise, hiding the obvious grin on his lips, and hands it back to you, giving you a small pat on the shoulder as he exits the room

He was amazed. He’ll be mentioning this to Diavolo for sure

Simeon

You honestly come to the angel whenever you need peace from the brothers, so he’s seen you sketching away in that little pad of yours several times, but never actually seen what’s inside of it

One day, you got up to go get something and asked him to look after the book for you, to which he nodded and held the book in his lap

Now... Simeon never snoops, but looking down at your sketchbook, curiosity took over him

He opened it and lay it on his lap, staring down at the multiple little drawings you had scattered on one page

He smiles and turns to the next page, once again greeted by more of your amazing drawings of cats, birds, trees, followers and the House of Lamentation

He keeps turning the page, drawing after drawing, each one seemingly getting better than the last

When he saw the little drawing of Luke he couldn’t help but chuckle at how sweet he looked. He’d have to ask you if he could keep it later

Then he saw the brothers and he admired how well you drew them all, each detail drawn to perfection. He most enjoyed their demon forms and how beautiful they all looked

As soon as he flicked to a drawing of him, he stopped in his tracks, staring down at your sketch in disbelief

He didn’t care too much about when you drew it, all he cared about was how astonishing you made him look

He was stood with his hand on his hip, a small smile displayed on his face as his cloak carefully draped around his arms

He put the book back before you re-entered the room. He’ll ask you if he could take another look later

Solomon

Couldn’t help but notice you sketching something in class, since you share a lot of them together and it happens almost every lesson

He doesn’t really care at first but when he finds it laying on the table after you’d forgotten it, he couldn’t help but look

First couple of pages were filled with small sketches and he was pretty impressed. He does a bit of doodling and draws his summoning circles himself so looking at your art was pretty intriguing to him

When he sees the drawing of the brothers, he realises you’ve actually got a hell of a talent for drawing

He decides to go find you and return it, but he’ll keep flicking through as he walks, because he’d really like to see more

As he’s walking and flicking through, a smile begins to form on his face as he sees sketches of Luke and Simeon having a tea party together, something he knew went on weekly with the 3 of you

He stops walking as he stumbles across something he never expected to see

It was him, practising his spells with a focused look on his face

He has absolutely no clue when you drew you and honestly, slightly creeped out

Ignores it though since the drawing of him came out pretty good and the details you put on his face were incredibly done. He felt himself blush slightly at the fact you actually took the time to draw him

Eventually found you and yelled out your name, waving the sketchbook in his hand as he watched you rush over, your cheeks burning red as you cover your face. He smiles sweetly as he walks off

This guy couldn’t get any more sketchy even if he tried

Luke

Simeon needed to talk to Lucifer, so he brought Luke along since he was bored. He started wandered the house when those two began talking about things he didn’t understand.

He reaches your room and knocks on the door, but there was no answer, so he let himself in

Kid can’t keep his hands to himself, he’s touchin everything he sees. So when he sees a book on your desk, he can’t help himself

Sits on your bed and opens it, his eyes widening as he’s greeted by several incredible sketches

He’s having the time of his life flicking through them all, going through flower after flower, the stray cats he sees outside the house and of course, the demons

He thought all the drawings were the coolest things he’s ever seen in his life

He had to show Simeon

He was about to go running to show him when one of them caught his eye. It was a drawing of him?

He was stood on a stool baking his cakes. The intricate details standing out, making him gawk in awe. He didn’t know when you drew this, but he didn’t care. You made him look amazing

The drawing of him made his eyes tear up, he was so so happy that you drew him

Wiped his eyes and clung to the book, running into the room where Simeon was so he could show him your beautiful drawings too

This was so damn fun to write, but fuck did it take days to do :,)

[screamin-abt-haikyuu]

A Comedy of Errors. Chapter 3: The Way of the Aces.

Please read the previous chapters before proceeding!!

Click here to read Chapter 1: Negotiations.

Click here to read Chapter 2: Suga the Setter.

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

Background: Y/N is a transfer student who joined Karasuno High in her second year because her family shifted to Miyagi. She is a volleyball player and plays as a wing spiker (ace) in the Girl’s Volleyball team.

Pairing: Karasuno x fem reader || Romantic Pairing: Asahi x fem reader

NOTE: Y/N plays volleyball in this. I am not familiar with all the rules of the game so pls 2 forgive if I get any of the technicalities wrong.

Genre: Fluff and comfort with sprinkles of comedy this time! || SFW

A/N: At last, the final chapter. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. I really poured my entire soul into this. --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Say, since you guys are already here. Why don’t you stay and watch us practice?" Asahi's lifespan is being shortened with every word as Suga invites Y/N and Michimiya to watch them practice. Asahi waits with bated breath. Even though he is extremely nervous, a part of him does want you to stay. So, when you do say yes, he doesn't know whether to feel happy or run out of the gym screaming. As they walk off to warm up, Suga whispers to him, "I know you're probably thinking about how you're going to fuck up your play and embarrass yourself in front of her. But while you're at it, maybe you should also think about what will happen if you actually play well." Asahi nods. "Suga." "Hmm?" "Thank you. For everything you just did. I really do appreciate it." "Of course! I'm just glad it worked out well." "And you are right, I do like her. I don't know her much but I would like to." "Aha, finally some truth around here! Well, then we just gotta make sure you give her a show worth remembering!" Suga says, winking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michimiya had been watching the game intently, as was evident by her gasps and comments on everything. But you? You hadn't been able to keep your eyes off of Asahi the entire game. So much so, that you had barely given a second thought to the first years' amazing quick attack or Nishinoya's outstanding libero skills.

Asahi's spikes, his serves, his receives, his posture, his spirit, and his determination had you just...rapt with attention.

"In case you are wondering, yes, he is single." Michimiya's whisper startles you.

"W-what?" you start to blush. "I'm just taking notes!"

"But I didn't even specify who I was talking about."

You turn redder.

"He's really nice too, you know. A very genuine and kind person. I think you two would make a cute couple."

Your face is so hot now that you're sure you'll hear a sizzle any moment. You turn your head back towards the game to avoid Michimiya's gaze.

"I- I don't know who you are talking about."

Michimiya chuckles. "Of course you don't."

Even though you can feel Michimiya's gaze on you, you can't help but smile as you watch Asahi land another beautiful spike in the opponent's court.

You didn't know, of course, that you being around and watching him had been a huge boost of motivation for him to perform at his peak. You didn't know how he had been wondering what you were thinking about him the entire game. You didn't know how hard it had been for him to not glance at you after every move he made, just to see your reaction.

But he didn't know how you had felt either. He didn't know how your heart rate sped up every time he came on to serve. He didn't know you had also felt frustrated whenever his spike got shut down, feeling as though you had been shut down. He didn't know how you had wanted to shout and cheer him on but you hadn't because you didn't want to come off as a weirdo.

Truly, you would make a good couple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Practice is now over. Asahi's team won both the practice matches (of course they did, Suga would not have had it any other way). You and Michimiya walk over to the third years. As Michimiya starts gushing to Daichi about their game, you turn to Asahi.

"You were really - glorious, brilliant, like a God, I wish you were spiking me instead - amazing out there," you say, your eyes full of admiration.

Asahi instantly turns a deep shade of red.

"Th-thank you." He says with a smile.

"See, I told you he is great!" Suga says with a proud smile on his face.

"You were right. Karasuno really has a very talented ace."

"No, it has two of them," Asahi says, looking at you with a smile.

Now it is your turn to blush.

"Aah, I wish. I'm not quite there yet. I'm definitely nowhere close to your level," you say.

"I would love to help you any way I can."

"I would be honoured to learn from you," you say with a bow.

Suga piped up, "It's Saturday tomorrow! The boys' gym will be free till 10AM. If you want, we can practice here early morning. Say, around 7? Asahi can teach you the techniques and I can set for you both. We'll ask Daichi and Michimiya too if they want to join." and before you can answer, Suga is off to ask Daichi and Michimiya.

Wow, he really doesn't wait for an answer, huh.

Asahi looks at you and he can see you're a little unsure. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just... I really don't want to bother you guys so early in the morning like that."

"It's no problem at all, we usually practice early on the weekends anyway." Asahi says with a reassuring smile. That seems to melt your doubts away.

Suga walks back to you. "I've spoken to the two of them, they will join us but a little later."

"It's sorted, then." you say, smiling.

Of course, Asahi was the one who ended up walking you home that night.

Of course, Suga was "late" for the morning practice the next day, giving you and Asahi a lot of time to get comfortable around each other get nervous and DIE.

Of course, situations like these happened more than a few times.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before you know it, two months have passed. With Asahi and Michimiya's help, you improved tremendously and the Karasuno Girls Volleyball team cleared the first set of qualifying rounds for the Spring Interhigh. And so did the boys.

During this time, you and Asahi have become really good friends. Since you two live in the same area, you often end up going to school and walking home together, giving you a lot of time to talk about every topic under the sun. It took a while but you are now very comfortable around each other. In fact, Asahi himself wonders how he is able to tell you things so easily.

Both of your friend groups (and your entire school, also the neighbouring schools, random passersby, street dogs, birds flying past - you know, basically anyone with eyes) can see that you two are absolutely head-over-heels for each other. The only two people who don't know it are you two.

The way Asahi had gone out of his way to teach you everything he knew; how patiently he had walked you through every technique, every mistake; how he had sweetly asked you for permission every time before correcting your posture and showing you the right finger placement (mind outta the gutter fellas, we talking about volleyball here); how every time he did that, you felt a jolt of electricity whenever his fingers touched you (I promise it is still about volleyball); how he cares about even the littlest things regarding you; how every time he smiles reassuringly at you, the world feels all right again; how supportive and encouraging he has been through it all: You have fallen for him harder than you have ever fallen in your entire life.

And you just keep falling harder and harder every moment you spend with him. He has become your comfort now. No matter how stressed or nervous you are, just having Asahi around makes you feel much calmer and confident.

Asahi, on the other hand, has smiled more in these last two months than he has ever smiled. He can't help it, being around you just makes him feel like he is floating. He was blown away by how talented and hard working you are and is so proud of the progress you have made.

The way you are so kind to him. The way you always speak up whenever someone makes fun of him. The way you always hype him up and believe in him. The way the world seems to stop every time you smile at him. The way your laugh has become his favourite sound in the world. Asahi could not be more enamoured by you even if he tried. You too, are his comfort now. He knows he can talk to you about every "sentimental" topic on earth without being made fun of.

The only problem is: You both are afraid that this comfort you find in each other will be ruined if either of you confesses and the other does not reciprocate your feelings. It is now a waiting game to see who spikes their ball into the other's court first, if at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are shaking. Partly with excitement, partly with nerves. After defeating Tohoku High, only one school remains between you and the nationals: Niiyama Joshi, one of the most powerful schools that always makes it to nationals when it comes to the Miyagi prefecture.

The boys' game had ended earlier than yours and they had already left the stadium. You were absolutely delighted to hear that they beat Seijoh. Now, they have to face Shiratorizawa, another powerhouse school that always makes it to the nationals.

You and Asahi both have your own mountains to climb tomorrow.

As you are walking out of the stadium with your teammates, you spot something.

"Hey, you guys go ahead, I will be right there." you say and turn back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been a very long day but you cannot sit still at all. You cannot stop thinking about the match tomorrow. Your hands are sweaty knees weak, arms are heavy because you keep clenching your fists open and shut as you pace around your bedroom. You had hoped to be able to meet Asahi and maybe feel a little better but by the time you had reached school, the boys had already left. You know how big a day it is for him tomorrow too so you don't want to bother him by asking him to meet. However, you should at least text him and congratulate him on his victory. You open your phone and see you already have a message from him:

Asahi: Hey, I heard you guys beat Tohoku! Congratulations! I knew you could do it.

You smile.

You: Thanks, I still can't believe we did that!!! Congratulations on beating Seijoh!! I heard it was a close match.

Asahi: Thanks! Yeah, it was anyone's game by the end. It was really intense. But we managed to win. Also, I had full faith that you would make it!

You: Damn, wish I could have seen it. Sooo, Shiratorizawa next. How are you feeling?

Asahi: Really, really nervous. They're really strong and I don't think anyone believes we can beat them.

You: Well, you just gotta prove them wrong, then! I truly believe that you guys can do it.

Asahi: I really hope so. Anyway, what about you? How are you feeling about going up against Niiyama tomorrow?

You: Honestly, I cannot stop shaking and thinking about tomorrow. We are so close and I just don't want to screw up and let my team down.

Asahi: Can you get out of your house?

You stare at your phone for a moment before replying.

You: Yeah, I can sneak out the backdoor. Why?

Asahi: Sneak out after 5 minutes. I'll be there.

You: You sure about this? It's late and you need to rest for tomorrow too.

Asahi: I'm sure and I'm already on my way.

You grab your schoolbag and quietly make your way out the backdoor. You see Asahi standing outside your house. He's wearing a purple t-shirt and is carrying a bag in his hand. He smiles and waves at you as you make your way towards him. The knots in your stomach are already starting to loosen.

"Hey, Asahi!"

"Hey, Y/N, I'm sorry for making you sneak out like this but... I couldn't help myself when I read your messages."

"No, it's completely alright. Actually, to be honest, I was kind of hoping to meet you too. I-I always feel calmer after talking to you."

Asahi blushes.

"R-really?"

"Yeah."

"I always feel better after talking to you too."

You can feel the heat starting to build in your face as you smile at him in response.

Asahi continues, "I-I know I am not good with words. But I want to tell you that I know exactly how you feel. You won't let anyone down. I have seen you play and really, you have nothing to worry about. You have made it this far and you are strong enough to take it further."

His words make you want to cry. He has always shown so much faith in you. You look at the ground and don't say anything as you try to hold back your tears.

"-And I - uh - got you something that I thought might make you feel better."

You look up in surprise and you see him reaching his hand into the bag he brought with him. As you watch, he pulls out a light blue cloth. It's a t-shirt.

You gasp as you recognize what it is.

He holds the t-shirt open by the sleeves so that you can read what's written.

It's a "The Way of the Ace" T-shirt.

"Oh my God!!" you say loudly.

He is completely thrown off by your reaction as you throw your head back and laugh.

Oh no. Does she think this is lame? Asahi starts to panic.

You reach into your own bag and pull out a similar looking light blue cloth. Asahi's eyes widen.

"I bought this today at the stadium for you. I know how important tomorrow's match is for you and I knew you'd be nervous so I wanted to give you this as a motivational sort of good luck thing." you say as you hold out a larger sized "The Way of the Ace" T-shirt.

All of your tension and nerves melt away as you both stand there laughing and holding the T-shirts.

"I hope I got the right size," Asahi says as you exchange the t-shirts.

"Same."

"It's perfect!" You both say at the same time and erupt into a hearty laugh again.

"Thank you, Asahi. I feel a lot better now. Really, thank you for everything. We wouldn't have made it this far if not for your help."

"It was all you, Y/N. All I did was show you the way. You walked it on your own."

"Yeah, you showed me the way of the Ace." you say, smiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The score is 30-31 and it is match point for Karasuno Girls' High School against Niiyama Joshi for what seems to be like the 100th time. It has just been ties after ties after ties and every set has stretched well into the 30s. Somewhere at the beginning of the fifth set, you looked up to see the Karasuno boys piling into the stands to cheer your team on. From the looks of it, they won their match against Shiratorizawa.

Playing such intense 5 sets back to back has taken a massive toll and the players on both sides of the court are at their limit. However, it is now your turn to serve and if you manage to get this point, you will be through to the nationals.

"Y/N, GIVE US A NICE SERVE!!" the boys cheer for you from the audience.

Your knees are quaking and you feel like you can barely stand, much less run or jump. You are so out of breath that you feel like you are going to pass out any minute. As you somehow force yourself to walk into position, you can feel your knees buckling under you.

As you stand there, waiting for the referee to blow the whistle, your eyes instinctively search for Asahi. Even though he is far, you can easily spot him due to his height and the familiar light blue t-shirt he has changed into after his match.

As your eyes meet, Asahi cups his hands around his mouth and BELLOWS.

"JUST ONE MORE. YOU GOT THIS!"

The whistle blows.

BAM.

You barely have time to realize what happened as you are tackled to the ground by your teammates. There's a lot of hugging and crying and shouting.

As you recover from your shock, it finally registers. It was a service ace. Niiyama's libero had tried to dig the ball but it had bounced out of bounds.

You've won.

Tears of exhaustion and exhilaration start to flow from your eyes as you hug your teammates.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your feet are killing you as you walk out of the locker room towards the bus, wearing your own WotA t-shirt. It's late and the corridor is silent and empty as you're one of the very last few people to leave.

"I told you you could do it."

You look up and see Asahi standing a little further ahead, smiling at you.

You don't say anything, you just walk up to him and hug him. He seems taken aback but only for a bit as, barely a second later, you feel his large arms wrap around you tightly.

You both stand there for a while, both too exhausted to speak but finding comfort in each other's arms. It just feels so...right. Like this is exactly where and how you are meant to be.

When you finally break apart, you can see that Asahi is looking a little nervous.

"S-say, Y/N. I was wondering... i-if you would maybe want to go on a- on a date with me?"

Your eyes widen in surprise.

"It is completely okay if you don't! I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anythi-"

"Yes, yes, YES! I will go on a date with you."

"Really? You really want to go out with me?"

"Yes. Honestly, Asahi, I fell for you a long time ago. I was just afraid of freaking you out and ruining our friendship. So, I didn't say anything."

Asahi let out a little laugh. "It's freaky how we think so similarly because same." He takes your hand in his. "I fell for you the day I met you. And I just kept falling harder and harder the more I got to know you. I just never imagined you would feel the same way for me too."

"I do, I do, I so do! I always have!"

Both of you have the biggest smiles on your faces as you stand there holding hands and looking into each other's eyes.

You suddenly start to blush furiously.

"So...um...since we usually seem to be thinking the same thing. Um, would you like to kiss me?"

Asahi's eyes open so wide that you're worried they'll pop out of their sockets any minute. He is blushing furiously as he simply nods and leans in.

Your heart is thundering as your lips meet. But, it's Asahi. He kisses you with such tenderness and affection that you just melt into him.

The two aces of Karasuno walk out of the stadium hand-in-hand, wearing their matching WotA T-shirts. You're going to nationals, you've found some really great friends and you have found each other. Life is good.

FIN.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, I am so happy with how this turned out. I was stuck for a while trying to decide where to go with this story and I was panicking a little about not updating sooner. But I am glad I did not hurry this up because I really LOVE the turn this took in my head which it wouldn't have if I hadn't let the ideas stew in my mind for a while.

I know this was a long read but I really hope you guys enjoyed it and it was worth the read and the wait.

Likes, comments, reblogs and follows are always appreciated. Please DO NOT repost

Buy me a Kofi! <3

[terrence-silver]

“You don’t just follow people to their homes! I’m calling the police.” with Yandere! Terry x Reader, please? You're so talented!!

@animeguyzzloverzoo

-

You dial the number, and you hear him chuckling from behind you.

It was a dreadful mistake. Turning your back for even but a moment on him, as you bluff and try to pretend you're hitting up 911 hoping the very prospect of such an action would be enough to daunt him and send him along his merry way after he's tailed you here. Perhaps it would, some lesser, feebler men - men with less dedication to a cause - but Terry Silver was no such man. He didn't fear any authority. Any law or rhyme or reason. He could buy and sell them all on a whim, and be out of confines and cleared of all charges before the patrol car even pulls up in front of your doorstep, but that just wasn't the point. The whereabouts of the LAPD and the fact they were so easy to bribe wasn't the subject of debate here. Everyone under the sun loved money. Cops. Criminals. Judges. Lawyers. Men. Women. Whores. Nuns. The point was, you offended him on a fundamental level. You thought him the type of commonplace, discount stalker who you could frighten off. Simply shake off with a few amateur tricks and stupid excuses. Wiggle free by pretending to be resourceful and oh-so brave in the face of danger by calling the cops. You underestimated him, and well, that really irked Terry. Calling the police? On him? Seriously? What a painfully dull, tired cliche. He wanted to break out laughing, and at one point, he does, the sound of it paralyzing you like a deer caught in the headlights. He didn't like to be underestimated by anyone ever, least of all, his targets. His special points of interest. He wanted his skills at subterfuge and following his prey to be taken seriously. He wanted to be feared, properly, as a menace should be feared. But this? This was downright insulting? He wasn't some two-penny, whimpering bandit with a crush. To be a proper voyeur - it was an art-skill. Like ballet. Like ice-skating. And he was more then a proper voyeur. He was a cyclone.

You wouldn't stare in the eye of a tornado, now would you?

No, you'd turn away, run, flee and seek shelter.

Pray that you're not caught in the midst of the storm.

Well, Terry Silver believed himself not that different from a tempest.

-"Yeah, George, it's me."- He steals the phone handle from you with ease.

He talks with the operator, as he assumes, stationed at cubicle 1589. working an afternoon shift from one in the afternoon until seven in the evening and it turns out it's correct, just judging by his voice. Nice man, that George. Has a wife. Three kids. Aged twelve. Ten. Six. He has a mortgage. A nice little car he's almost paid off. And his blood type is AB negative and sometimes, when he pees in the morning, his urine burns thanks to a brief extramarital affair he's had with a red-haired, green-eyed Valley-girl hooker simply going by Jade (very original) two years ago. Most helpful with the occasional favour too. Very blackmailable. He knows the local police stations and the diligent little ants manning them, inside and out, like the palm of his hand and he smiles, pushing you up against the end table where your telephone electrical wire is attached to the wall as you stand trapped, between his torso and a firm piece of furniture, shocked, that he's talking the nameless figure on the other end of the line like an old friend. You don't realize just how powerful he really is, do you? You know, to some extent, but it never quite hit you, until now, it seems, as he speaks up once more, with a nonchalant grace meant to annoy you, much to his absolute delight. You were so cute. -"Yes, false alarm, that's all. Not to worry. No need to record this. You're a real peach!"- Terry finishes the conversation with his fakest, snake oil-salesman corporate charmer voice and swiftly breaks the line, hanging up with a click, maintaining his posture and furthermore, maintaining you imprisoned right there, with no place to run. This is why you don't underestimate him. The typhoon that he was could easily swallow you. You should've feared him more. Dreaded him with more finesse. Gave him something worthy of him.

He years to wrap the telephone cord around your neck and strangle you with it.

-"Next time,"- he hisses into your ear, enveloping you from behind, in the darkness.

-"If you wanna call for back-up, think of someone who'd be an actual challenge."-

Terry bites into lobe of your ear, grinding into your posterior wantonly right before he snorts in amusement, wrapping your own shivering arms around yourself as he holds you down hard, in a tangled mess of limbs, licks your cheek covered with salty, cold sweat with a long, delectable moan, leaving a trail of hot, searing saliva on your skin as goodbye and goodnight, lets you go of your frozen, stiff frame with the same suddenness he's grabbed you and disappears down the corridor of your apartment, leaving in one swift motion, silently, like a ghost, in the moonless, starless evening, dressed in black - all leather, gold and turtlenecks, blending in with the busy, buzzing abyss of the urban midnight. Tomorrow, he'd visit again. And after that, he'd do it again. And after that, he'd repeat the all-too familiar motion. And after that. And after that. And after that. Why would there ever be an end to something he so dearly wants anyway?

[robininthelabyrinth]

Thank you "Worthwhile Trade". The idea of Baxia turning into an guai is so interesting. I liked imagining the part where she hit NMJ for his idiocy. My brain is projecting "married couple" vibes, omg. I admit despite how weird WWX spoke about the events, the time travel part flew over my head until the tags spelled it out for me. (TBC)

(Cont'd) Also... did NMJ mean it in THAT dual-thing way when talking WRH's prefs? And the last part, where WWX used resentful energy to sub NMJ's qi. I assume he can still cultivate since his core's still there, if emptied? But I wonder what'll happen to his energy once restored Can't help but think his renewed qi will inevitably be affected by the traces of the previous energy that once circulated. He's not going to become a walking stygian tiger or something, is he? Off the wall guess, sorry!

----

sequel to Worthwhile Trade (ao3), also on tumblr

Wei Wuxian didn’t understand Nie Mingjue.

He didn’t understand the way he thought, the way he acted – the way he smiled when he woke up, the way he opened his arms when Nie Huaisang threw himself into them with a wail and said, “It was worth it for you, didi; it always is if it’s for you. Don’t you know that?” the way Wei Wuxian had always shamefully thought of saying, as if something like that could just be said like that, out in the open.

The way Nie Mingjue shrugged when the doctors said his cultivation would likely never recover, that he should have died, that they didn’t understand why he hadn’t; the way he said, seeming even satisfied, that it was a worthwhile trade.

It’s not a trade, Wei Wuxian wanted to scream at him. It’s a sacrifice! It hurts and you’re sad, no, worse, you’re resentful about it and you shouldn’t be because it was your choice, your decision, but you see someone else with everything that you worked so hard for and you’re angry when you shouldn’t be angry and you feel bad and you turn away; it hurts them when you do and you’re glad, you miserable thing, you’re happy that they’re hurt because why should you be the only one whose hurt –

Perhaps the problem wasn’t that he didn’t understand Nie Mingjue.

Perhaps it was only that he saw in Nie Mingjue his own faults, his own deficiencies, the ones he’d tried so hard to hide in the sea of his poor memory.

“You’ll die if you don’t find a way to cultivate,” he said instead, hovering by the door. He’d say that he didn’t mean to ruin the mood, but he kind of did, and Baxia’s eyes on him were cold as if she knew.

As if she knew everything.

How he’d gone back to the past, how he’d changed things, how it was his fault that Nie Mingjue – who’d never done a single thing to hurt him, who’d been upright and righteous and good and whose brother loved him enough to –

Wei Wuxian had made a point of avoiding Baxia.

Not that she was that easy to avoid. She was tall for a woman – not as tall as Nie Mingjue, but proportionate to him in the sense that she was as much taller than the average woman as he was taller than the average man – and she walked as though people should flee before her, a tread that only felt heavy because of the almost visceral rage that surrounded her like a cloud.

Nie Huaisang had found robes for her, somehow, and they were the least feminine robes Wei Wuxian had ever seen a woman wear, though he supposed he still hadn’t seen that given that Baxia wasn’t exactly a woman.  Cut in a martial style, a dark shimmering grey that seemed in some lights to be almost red – she had been born as a human in a mantle of blood and she would not let anyone forget it.

“I should have died already,” Nie Mingjue said, as if the world’s scariest guai didn’t have her hand on his shoulder right next to his vulnerable neck. “You came up with a solution, Wei-gongzi, and for that I thank you. Even if we are not able to solve the next stage, being able to see my loved ones is worthwhile.”

Wei Wuxian could learn to hate that word.

“I have a solution, of a sort,” he said, irritated and not entirely because his reveal had been preempted. He’d hoped to sort of ease into it, somehow. “You lack the capacity for regular cultivation, but that doesn’t mean you can’t use demonic cultivation.”

“What? No, we can’t do that,” Nie Huaisang said, biting his fingers anxiously. “Anyway, doesn’t demonic cultivation harm the temperament?”

“You mean my temperament can get worse?” Nie Mingjue teased, and Nie Huaisang smacked him so lightly that it didn’t even displace his clothing. “I don’t know any means of demonic cultivation, Wei-gongzi –”

“Call me Wei Wuxian,” Wei Wuxian said. “Please.”

“Wei Wuxian, then,” Nie Mingjue said. “All the methods I’ve ever heard of were forbidden for very good reasons – but perhaps those conditions are not the same in the method you know.”

Wei Wuxian tensed. “How do you know that I know one?”

“You saved me, didn’t you?” Nie Mingjue said practically, and well, yes, Wei Wuxian supposed he had a point – “And anyway, Baxia can tell.”

Wei Wuxian shivered. “I don’t use it,” he argued. “How can she tell?”

At Nie Huaisang’s instigation, Baxia had recently started experimenting with smiles. She put one on her face now.

It was terrifying.

“Tell me about it,” Nie Mingjue requested. “The powers and the price, all of it.”

“You’re actually considering this?” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “But da-ge…!”

“Wei Wuxian was not wrong when he said that I would die if I didn’t find a way to cultivate despite having given up what I have,” Nie Mingjue said. “If I die, what will you do?”

Oh, not much, just become a mastermind capable of puppeting the entire cultivation world to enact revenge for your death. Nothing big.

“But – da-ge has always put such a priority on remaining on the righteous path…”

“That’s why I asked about the costs,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “I will not abandon righteousness simply because I adopt a new method of cultivating.”

“Everyone will revile you even if you are righteous,” Wei Wuxian warned him.

Nie Mingjue shrugged. “Who is everyone? What do I care for them? You do the right thing because it is right, not for the sake of fame.”

Wei Wuxian had once thought the same.

“If everyone in the cultivation world thinks you are evil, they will paint you as evil no matter what you do,” he insisted. “No matter how righteous your motives –”

“Let them think he’s evil, then!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “He could be the most black-hearted cultivator in the land, but he’s still my da-ge; my Nie sect and I will protect him!”

“Huaisang! No! That is not how righteousness works – if I ever truly become evil, you are to cut me off at once, kill me if necessary –”

“No way!”

“Huaisang – Baxia, tell him; evil cannot be endured –”

Baxia was looking at her fingernails. She’d picked that gesture up from Sect Leader Ouyang, when he was trying to be pointed about ignoring someone; it was extremely irritating to absolutely everyone who wanted to know who she was and what she was doing here and Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian had teamed up to convince her to keep doing it.

Possibly a mistake, in retrospect.

“Baxia. I know you agree with me on this. Evil is evil, and must be eradicated no matter who it may be.”

She gave him an unimpressed look.

“I know I’m not evil yet,” Nie Mingjue argued, apparently understanding her without any difficulty whatsoever. He’d just woken up from a month-long coma and he could already speak fluent human-saber, it was really unfair. And this man had succumbed to Jin Guangyao’s wiles? Lan Xichen had more to answer for than he knew. “But if I ever become evil – what? No, we will not burn that bridge when we come to it, that’s not even the right idiom, who is teaching you these things –”

Nie Huaisang coughed and hid his face behind a fan.

Wei Wuxian was not going to laugh.

Nie Mingjue growled at them all and turned back to Wei Wuxian. “Explain,” he demanded. “The rest of you, out.”

“But –”

“Out. One of us has to cultivate the righteous path, and if it can’t be me, it has to be you. Baxia?”

She picked Nie Huaisang up by his collar, for all the world like a mother dog picking up her pup by the scruff of its neck, and walked out.

Nie Mingjue picked up demonic cultivation faster than anyone else Wei Wuxian had ever met or even heard of. He wasn’t sure if that demonstrated an unnerving aptitude or if it was simply that Nie Mingjue was surpassingly talented – Wei Wuxian had never met anyone like himself before, someone for whom all things came easy, and it was an unexpected delight to meet a kindred soul somewhere where he’d long ago given up hope. He’d never planned to unveil demonic cultivation in this life unless he truly needed it – he didn’t want to hurt his Lan Zhan the way he had in his first life, and anyway Jiang Cheng and Uncle Jiang and Madame Yu were all alive, with hundreds of Jiang sect members to boot, there was no need for his sacrifice – but the part of him that was more researcher and inventor than cultivator luxuriated in their discussions.

Nie Mingjue was a lot more concerned than Wei Wuxian had ever been with consequences, and how to mitigate them, but he supposed that made sense: losing his cultivation hadn’t impacted that Nie temper one bit, and demonic cultivation was likely to make things worse. Moreover, Nie Mingjue was simply who he was, stiff and unbending, as much steel in his spine as in Baxia’s; he could almost be described as being rigid in his thinking except for the fact that he was in fact seriously considering becoming a demonic cultivator.

“We’re saber cultivators,” Nie Mingjue said when Wei Wuxian tentatively brought it up. “Like a saber, our nature is to be firm and unyielding, not flexible like the sword, but we cannot allow ourselves to become too rigid – a too-rigid saber will break upon encountering an obstacle. It’s a difficult balance to keep, and one made more difficult by our cultivation style.”

“The demonic cultivation aspects, you mean? Using yao to refine your saber spirit?”

“One day, though not today, I’m going to ask you how you know about that,” Nie Mingjue remarked, and although his tone was causal Wei Wuxian’s back went cold. “And I’ll expect you to tell me the truth when I do. But not today. Anyway, yes, that’s what I mean. Do you know what they mean when they say that demonic cultivation harms the temperament?”

Wei Wuxian hesitated. “I assume you’re going to tell me something other than ‘it drives you crazy and makes you kill people’?”

Nie Mingjue snorted. “Sometimes I wonder how someone as smart as you got sent home before you finished your lessons at the Cloud Recesses, but other times it’s fairly obvious.”

Wei Wuxian shrugged, embarrassed.

“Do you really not know?”

“No one taught this to me,” Wei Wuxian said, stung. “I came up with it on my own. How would I know?”

“All demonic cultivation has the same root,” Nie Mingjue said. “Obsession.”

“With killing, yeah, I know, I’ve heard it a million times –”

“Shut up and listen, you impertinent brat. The killing comes later. It starts with obsession. Obsession with righteousness, obsession with love, obsession with the pleasures of this world, with power – a human becomes a demon when they cannot overcome the obsessions within their heart, and the obsession consumes them. In time, a demonic cultivator who is obsessed with power will do whatever it takes to obtain that power, and not mind the blood shed to do it; a demonic cultivator who is obsessed with love will kill everyone who they perceive stands between them and their love, a demonic cultivator who is obsessed with righteousness will turn to murder when in their judgment something that ought to be condemned goes unpunished…”

“What about one who only wants what’s best for his family?” Wei Wuxian said, and he did not know if the challenge in his voice was about Nie Mingjue’s future or his own past.

Nie Mingjue shrugged. “Two roads that I can see: first, their family turns away from them for what they have become and they become vicious with the abandonment, becoming quick to lash out against the world and eventually doing something that causes the world to turn against them.  Second, their family stands by them, and eventually the world causes some harm to them – and the demonic cultivator turns to madness in revenge.”

“Not exactly an optimistic outlook.”

“Not especially, no.”

“You don’t seem as concerned by that as I would have thought.”

Nie Mingjue’s lips twitched. “I have a solution.”

“Would you like to share?”

“Using resentful energy to cultivate our sabers makes them prone to obsession, driving them ceaselessly to fight evil, destroy it, without discrimination. It makes them stronger, but also more dangerous – and that is why they must be carefully controlled.”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “So, what? You’re going to be the saber now? Under whose control?”

“Huaisang’s, of course,” Nie Mingjue said, as if it were obvious. “For better or for worse, he is sect leader now. Who else would it be?”

“But – what if you disagree? What if he wants to do things one way, and you another –”

“Then I argue and probably yell a lot, and if in the end he still insists on doing things his way, I listen,” Nie Mingjue said dryly. “That’s how hierarchy works. Isn’t it the same for you? When your shidi, Jiang Cheng, becomes sect leader, you’ll need to listen to him – or leave the sect. There’s no middle ground.”

Wei Wuxian scowled.

“A sect leader that can’t control his disciples is worse than a demonic cultivator,” Nie Mingjue said. “He’s weak. A target, ripe to be ripped apart and devoured by other sects – resources raided, disciples poached, responsibilities taken away...It’s not a fate I would wish on anyone. If you can’t commit to obeying, commit to leaving so that you don’t end up promising more than you can give.”

Ouch.

Just – ouch.

Great advice, fantastic advice, world-class advice, and totally useless because Jiang Cheng had travelled back in time with him and was therefore convinced that Wei Wuxian was just looking for the first way out of the Jiang sect he could find, no matter what Wei Wuxian said or did about it.

(Even Madame Yu was concerned by the new coldness in their relationship and had tried to talk to him about it, which – Wei Wuxian didn’t know what to do with that. It didn’t match any of what he had thought he’d understood.)

He decided to focus back in on the demonic cultivation lessons, shifting from theoretical discussions to the practical, and that, unfortunately, was when they encountered an issue.

“What do you mean you can’t play an instrument?” Wei Wuxian demanded, appalled. “It’s one of the Six Arts! Everyone can play some sort of instrument – even Nie Huaisang plays an instrument!”

“Everyone agreed it was better that I stop learning,” Nie Mingjue said defensively. “It’s all just plucking on strings or blowing air in pipes, and yet no matter that I did exactly what the teacher said to do, it never worked, that’s all.”

“Didn’t Zewu-jun offer to teach you…?”

“He did. And then he said it would be better if we stopped, too.”

The reason, Wei Wuxian soon learned, was that Nie Mingjue was almost completely tone deaf, and the only reason it was almost was that he was still capable of differentiating speech.

“I agree with the majority,” he said after an extremely frustrating day. “Stop. Never pick up an instrument ever again. And don’t let anyone but Zewu-jun play something especially for you, either, okay? Even if they’re highly recommended.”

“An interesting request,” Nie Mingjue said, eyebrows arched skeptically. “May I ask why?”

“Because you’ll have no idea if they’ve changed the music on you,” Wei Wuxian said bluntly. A great deal about the man’s murder in a different life made sense now, and Jin Guangyao’s brilliance in hiding the score of Turmoil inside of Clarity was a little less impressive when played to a man who thought all music, without exception, was just plucking strings or blowing air. “Musical cultivation is deadly in the right hands, especially if you lower your defenses against it. Just consider it a precaution.”

Nie Mingjue’s eyebrows remained arched, but he hummed in agreement.

“I guess we’ll have to think of a new way for you to cultivate demonic cultivation,” Wei Wuxian said, rubbing his face. He had not been planning on having to invent demonic cultivation at all in this life, and now he needed to not only ‘invent’ the original but actually come up with something new. Why was his life so hard? “How did you previously manipulate external energy?”

“With Baxia.”

“Well, that’s not helpful, is it? You can’t wield a human being. Perhaps another saber…?”

That didn’t work, primarily because it turned out that Baxia had strong feelings about Nie Mingjue even thinking about using another saber and well, as far as Wei Wuxian was concerned, whatever Baxia wanted, Baxia got.

(Nie Huaisang had had to go to Heijan once, with Wei Wuxian and Baxia accompanying him since Nie Mingjue wasn’t ready yet, and some unlucky Wen captain had tried to ambush them. That captain, and his squad, were not granted the courtesy of an intact corpse, and Baxia hadn’t even gotten a speck of blood on her nice new robes – no, Wei Wuxian would not be crossing Baxia any time soon.)

“There’s got to be something,” Wei Wuxian said, and Nie Mingjue agreed, and in the end they found something.

Nie Mingjue had been absent-mindedly playing around with one of Nie Huaisang’s fans when one of the fierce corpses Wei Wuxian had raised as practice targets had gotten loose; instinct had taken over and Nie Mingjue had lashed out with the weapon at hand as if it were a saber, and the resentful energy had surged in response –

Baxia was apparently not threatened by the notion of her master using a fan as a weapon, not even one inlaid with steel and heavy cloth with enough layers to catch a sword in.

(If Wei Wuxian needed to go have some time to himself at the sight of Nie Huaisang, dressed as a sect leader with his saber always at his side, standing next to Nie Mingjue holding a fan – well, that was his problem, and also one he intended to show to Jiang Cheng at the next possible opportunity. Someone else deserved to have their mind wrecked by the incongruity as much as he had.)

Even without the weirdness of Nie Mingjue, it was more than a little odd to see Nie Huaisang in the robes of a sect leader without him acting like the Head-shaker. The shock of having to become sect leader had fallen heavily on him: he had become a little more serious, a little more earnest (though still a bit frivolous); he was more inclined to listen and think things over, less inclined to run away.

“If da-ge is going to become a demonic cultivator, someone needs to stand behind him,” Nie Huaisang said simply when Wei Wuxian had tried probing. “He’s always held the world up for me – it’s the least I can do for him. I may not be able to do much, I might be terrible at it, but I owe it to him to at least try.”

Wei Wuxian wondered, sometimes, if Jiang Cheng would have stood up for him if only he had trusted in him, believed in him, the way Nie Mingjue believed in his notoriously useless little brother.

Maybe he’d ask, when he went back to the Jiang sect.

Maybe he’d –

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Jiang Cheng said as a greeting, and for once Uncle Jiang didn’t disagree. “All those letters and you never once mentioned the terrors?”

“The what,” Wei Wuxian said, and that was how he learned that while he was on his way back to Yunmeng neither Baxia nor Nie Mingjue had wasted any time utilizing their newfound skills out on the battlefield.

Nie Huaisang was never going to be a particularly respected sect leader, especially by those that had met him beforehand, but evidently that wasn’t really important given that he was constantly flanked by what was being called the two terrors of Qinghe.

Nie Mingjue preferred darker colors now that he was no longer sect leader, the same dark grey shading towards black that Baxia had selected for herself, and the selection somehow made him seem even taller, verging on inhuman, and Baxia standing beside him, her human features patterned roughly after his, made the two of them appear a matched set. Nie Mingjue wielded the fan that Wei Wuxian had helped him design, which he had forged with his own hands out of the metal from the Xuanwu’s cave that Wei Wuxian had foolishly figured someone ought to get some use out of, painted over with a cinnabar array in Nie Huaisang’s careful brushstrokes, and in his hands it was both weapon and conduit for the raising of armies of corpses. Baxia, for her part, held nothing but required nothing, a sweeping gesture of her hand more devastating than a dozen blows with the saber.

They were terrifying, a nightmare writ large and unmistakably dangerous, undeniably demonic cultivators in a way that was entirely different from Wei Wuxian’s own dramatics, and it unnerved the rest of the cultivation world the way Wei Wuxian had feared it would.

“It won’t be a problem,” Jiang Cheng said impatiently. “The Nie sect are ascending in strength, and this only adds to their mystique – who would challenge them?”

“Uh, Jin Guangshan,” Wei Wuxian said. “Like last time?”

Jiang Cheng huffed. “At this rate, I don’t even think Jin Guangyao will bother defecting to the Jin sect,” he said. “Not if he knows how to play his cards right. The Nie sect’s strength in the original version was never about Chifeng-zun’s skill with the blade alone. It was the whole sect’s strength, with Chifeng-zun’s ability to wield them as skillfully as he did his saber; he’s an outstanding general. And now they have him as a general, him as a demonic cultivator, and whatever the fuck is going on with Lady Baxia –”

“I already told you. She’s a guai.”

“Like I already told you, it doesn’t matter how many times you say that, I will immediately expel the knowledge from my mind and you should too. ‘Immortal cultivator cousin that my brother named his saber after’, like what Nie Huaisang has been putting about, is a perfectly acceptable cover story.”

“And the fact that his saber disappeared at the same time?”

“Coincidence,” Jiang Cheng said firmly. “And we’re sticking with that. Anyway, the point is that if you’re an ambitious man, the Nie sect is the place to be right now and probably will continue to be in the future. This is going to be evident to both Jin Guangshan and the future Jin Guangyao, and we’ll need to deal with that.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Wei Wuxian promised. “After rescuing Chifeng-zun and helping with the demonic cultivation, I’ve gotten pretty close to them.”

“Mm. And how about your other mission?”

Wei Wuxian scowled at the smirk on Jiang Cheng’s face. “You know perfectly well that I haven’t had any time to seduce Lan Wangji, what with how busy I’ve been. I don’t even know for sure if he likes me yet -!”

“You’re an idiot, he does, and you’re not allowed to keep us all in suspense for two decades this time. Figure it out.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’m sticking you with the job of being an information courier and you leave for the Lan sect front line tomorrow.”

“You are the best shidi ever,” Wei Wuxian said, and meant it.

Jiang Cheng huffed. “Yeah, well,” he said as if his cheeks weren’t red. “Remember that in the future. In this life we’re the Twin Heroes, you hear me? No take-backs.”

Nie Mingjue was right: Wei Wuxian would need to either learn to obey or tell Jiang Cheng early on that he was leaving, and walking a path in the middle would only cause heartbreak all over again.

“Okay,” he said, deciding to ask Lan Wangji for advice on obedience. Surely that was something that could be learned? “Deal. You do know that that means Lan Wangji’s going to have to marry in, right?”

“Oh no,” Jiang Cheng said, voice entirely flat. “How terrible. I’ll find a way to manage dealing with that ice block somehow…listen, I don’t care if you end up calling him Wei Sizhui in this life, but don’t ruin his character. He was perfectly nice.”

“I don’t know if he’s even been born yet,” Wei Wuxian said glumly. “I’ve been looking, but…”

“I’ve asked some of Mother’s spies to keep track of Wen Ning and Wen Qing,” Jiang Cheng said. “Collecting evidence we’ll need for their inevitable post-war trial, assuming we want them to live better lives than just refugees. Give it time, we’ll find him.”

“Now I just need to see if Lan Wangji will want to raise children with me…”

“Wei Wuxian. I don’t care. Go.”

[thepinkwriterr]

Capricorn Season Chapter 6 Part 1

Word Count: 4k

Table of Contents

Three weeks had passed from the first time they saw each other. On the days they had no work, they spent all of their time together. The two had become quite fond of one another. They spent nights on Jimmy's couch watching old movies and the mornings playing music in the kitchen. Everything was perfect just as it was.

Movie nights were Gwen's favorite. He had a project with an impressive film collection. They watched seeimingly whatever they wanted. Jimmy was a talented projectionist and eased the reel onto the projector with grace.

Just the other night, the couple watched Rosemary's Baby, a movie made by Roman Polanski. She'd read the book, which was published just a year before the movie. She thought it was much better than the movie but Jimmy enjoyed it. Although it painted witchcraft in a bad light he thought it was a pleasurable viewing experince. They talked about their opinions as the credits rolled, Gwen crying, "The book was better!"

"Love, the book is always better."

"Still dissapointed."

"Well, you revel in your superiority." He laughed.

"I think I will, Mr. Page."

"Very formal, I like it."

"What did you think of it?"

"I thought it was fine," he shrugged, "it dragged in the middle, but it was fine."

Today they had plans to celebrate Mabon. This was Jimmy's idea. He read about the holiday in a book Gwen lent him. They shared everything. They exchanged clothing, books, records, and everything else in between. They were particularly happy to share clothing. Especially Jimmy, he had an entire new closet of feminine clothes to try on. They were the same size on account of his Disney Princess waist.

Gwen pulled into his driveway at a quarter past 5. They planned to trek into the forest and celebrate the equinox together at dawn. "Good morning!" She called into the living room. Jimmy was sat on his couch reading a book. It was a new one. "Hello, love." He said. She leaned down and pecked him on the cheek. She walked around the couch and sat on the floor in front of the coffee table and laid out the items she brought.

She was already dressed in her ritual clothing. She owned a small collection of robes and cloths, choosing to wear her purple and gold robe. Jimmy was yet to change into his. He also owned a small but more decorative assortment of ceremonial clothing. He chose to wear a short cloak of sorts, which was black and adorned with ornamnetal patterns in black thread.

"Okay, we have sage incense, citrine, tigers eyes, and red jasper. I also have the salt mix I told you about last night. It's mixed with pink salt, cayenne pepper, and ginger. It should be perfect for home protection." She said. Jimmy admired her while she rambled about the activities for the day. They both knew exactly what they were going to do, but she needed to lay the plan out to him anyway.

She's absolutely a Virgo rising. She needs everything to be neat and in order. That's what I love about her, she's so put together. Always punctual and cares so about her career. He thought about how much he liked her as she rambled. This was a trait of hers, a routine. Her words came out in ribbons, a stream of consciousness.

The harsh winter air bit at their faces as they walked into the trees. Their hands were enveloped in an embrace. It comforted him to always be in contact with her. The soft skin she possessed was inviting, a warm place for him to rest after a long and cold day.

This confused her at first, his need for contact. After a few days she grew to enjoy it. The brushing of their hands was reassuring. She was always delighted when she felt the familiar touch from him. Even if it was just a knocking of their knees; he had to know she was there with him.

She worked to make a salt circle while he readied the offerings. He laid out apples, oranges, and lavender. "This won't bring about the fae, will it?" Jimmy asked. "It shouldn't. I guess we need to be clear that this is an earth offering. Not an invitation to those little fairy bastards." They laughed at her words.

They sat in the circle with their backs touching. Jimmy was facing the browning trees; Gwen sat in the sun. Leaves broke from the trees and swirled in the air around them. The red and yellow leaves landed in their circle, symbolizing the earth joining them in their spellwork. A broad smile painted Gwen's face as she watched Autumn bloom. The colors of the trees in contrast with the dead grass made her happy. There was still happiness in the greying earth.

"Autumn is so magical. Most people don't feel this way. They think that the earth is dying. But I feel differently. The earth is lulling itself into a deep, restful sleep. Nature closes in on itself and allows everything to idle. And when everything comes back into life in the Spring, we can see how vital this rest is." He said. His words blew through her ears, warming them in contrast with the cold weather. She smiled and felt her face begin to burn.

"You're so insightful," She turned to face him, "I'm so happy that I have you to share this time with. I couldn't imagine spending it with anyone more significant." Her genial words were important to him.

After their meditation was finished they walked back to the boathouse. The trip was almost 10 minutes but it felt like 30 in the cold. As they walked  beside one another they could feel the energy from the circle. A warming sensation like electricity ran between their bodies. The heat flowed like sparkling water, crashing between them as if washing up on a beach. The pair stole innocent glances from the other as they toddled up the hill. Every so often their hands would brush together and cause a surge of torridity.

When they finally returned to the house they began working to cleanse it. Jimmy started upstairs while Gwen did the first floor. She paid special attention to the music room. Only the best energy in here. The fate of Zeppelin may rest in this very cleansing. Winter air pushed its way through the ajar window. As much as she was warmed by Jimmy, she could feel her limbs starting to freeze. Haste was implemented to speed up the chances of windows closing.

The smell of incense was heavy in the air as they met in the living room. Their sage had burnt down and were left only with nubs of the sticks. They sat these in a dish on a shelf in his living room. Crystals and herbs would join the sticks soon. The intention was to bring luck. For now they settled on lighting a few candles. They were pink pillar candles Gwen had brought over, engraved with the X rune. This symbolized partnership.

A guitar sat at his feet as they retreated to the couch. "Are you going to grace us with your musical stylings?" He laughed at her whimsy. "Of course I will. I do every time you're here." He picked up the dark acoustic and began to strum. Gwen could recognize this song. It always tickled her when he played something she knew.

"But now they only block the sun They rain and they snow on everyone So many things I would have done But clouds got in my way"

A smile was brought to Jimmy's face as he heard Gwen's voice. She sounds so lovely. I can't believe she knows Joni Mitchell. She's bloody perfect. I don't know how she's real.

"I've looked at clouds from both sides now From up and down and still somehow It's cloud illusions I recall I really don't know clouds at all"

She continued to sing as he strummed. The slow pace of the song matched the still morning perfectly. Soft sun peaked in through the curtains. The pleasant sound of the guitar filled the room. As they reached the fifth verse Jimmy joined in her singing.

"Tears and fears and feeling proud To say, "I love you" right out loud Dreams and schemes and circus crowds I've looked at life that way"

"Oh, but now old friends they're acting strange And they shake their heads and they say I've changed Well something's lost, but something's gained In living every day"

Heat swirled in the room as the two harmonized; the cold from outside was entirely gone now. The flame in the candles burned bright as the song continued. They could feel everything else melt away; they were the only two left in the world. All other thoughts or responsibilities left their minds. Making this beautiful song was all they could think of.

Jimmy continued to play even after the lyrics were over. Gwen laid back on the couch and listened. The swell of chords floated through the air and burst into her ears. There was something so sensual and full about his playing. She could feel the light in her chest flicker. He awakened something in her when he picked up that guitar.

The flames on the pillar candles began to rise as he shifted into a new song. The same one he played for her the first time she came to see him. It didn't have lyrics or a name at that time. Since then, Jimmy had fixed both those issues.

"Yesterday I saw you standing by the river,

And weren't those tears that filled your eyes, And all the fish that lay in dirty water dying, Had they got you hypnotized?"

These were the only words Jimmy sang. The other lines didn't have the kinks worked out yet. He didn't like showing things to Gwen that weren't entirely finished. But he was too eager to not play the song for her. And it was worth it when he saw the way her smile lit up.

When he ceased to strum and dropped the guitar she erupted into applause. Her one-man plea for an encore always won him over. "Okay, okay. But only one more, then we have to make the cake." She squealed in delight at this notion. After their chorus was finished they went into the kitchen. Jimmy gathered the ingredients for the dessert while Gwen turned on the oven and prepped the pan. The two sang together while they readied the batter. Jimmy stood behind Gwen, his hands massaging her scalp while she worked. "I can't believe you're letting me make the cake. Usually you get all pissy when I try to do anything for you." She spoke between songs.

He rolled his eyes, giving her hair a gentle tug. "Careful, you'll find that I like that."

"You'd be delighted to know that I do too." He said and gave her hair another tug. She nudged him with her elbow and continued to make the batter. They swapped places so he could apply the topping to the cake. This was their trade; she could make the mix as long as he could decorate the top. They stood back and admired his work before putting it in the oven. "It's so beautiful," she wiped a fake tear from her eyes, "A baking feat never to be rivaled." He joined in on her joke, playing it up even more. "I can't believe we've crafted this masterpiece. We should take a photo and hang it in the Louvre." Laughter bubbled from Gwen's throat and hung in the air around them.

He plopped on a kitchen chair across from Gwen. He studied her as she read intently. Her eyes were laser-focused and her lips were pursed. She looked positively adorable when she was focused. The book she was devouring was one that Jimmy had lent her. It was over the impending years' planetary events. There would, of course, be multiple retrogrades in mercury, one in venus, and an eclipse. He knew this because he read the entire thing before passing it on to her. She seemed very excited by the pages, though.

He sat and laughed as she slammed the book on the table, eyes wide in elation. "There is going to be a solar eclipse? Jimmy, we have to see it! It's March 7th. We can be in America by then, right?" She looked to him with pleading eyes. She was like a child; so excitable and happy at the simplest of matters. "Of course we can. I will make sure of it." He didn't know if that was the honest truth. He could be touring, recording, or doing god knows what by March. But it gave her momentary satisfaction, which brought a glint of happiness to her eyes. This made his chest ache. She's going to be my undoing. And I don't think I mind.

After the ding of the oven timer went off, Gwen was up once again. "I'm so excited to try this. It's going to be so good!" As she reached into the oven, a terrible thought entered his mind.

What will we be doing by March? Would she be mine? My main priority has always been Zeppelin. I don't think I'd have time for a relationship and the band. Our schedules and goals would have to align for things to work out. And I have no ordinary schedule or goals. What have I gotten myself into? She's the literal woman of my dreams and here I am pondering if our schedules will line up! I have an impeccable ability to fuck things up. I told Jackie that I wanted to move to the coast and sell bloody pottery. It seems to always slip from my hands the moment something concrete starts to form. We haven't even known each other a month. But I have known her a long time; long before we met.

She turned after sitting the cake down on the stovetop. She expected him to be right behind her, examining his handy work. But he was stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched at his sides and staring into space. She furrowed her brows and walked closer to him. "Jimmy? Are you alright?" He snapped from his trance and joined the land of the conscious. "Yeah, just deep in thought. Let's see this cake!" He lurched forward to the stove. "Well, it is gorgeous. We make a good team, don't we?" His smile was convincing, but Gwen could tell something was up. She pushed those thoughts from her mind and continued with his banter.

"We should move to the South of France and open our own bakery. We could sell bread and paintings. We'd make a killing." They laughed together, still admiring the steaming cake.

Gwen brought the candles into the kitchen and sat them on the table. She sprinkled what was left of the salt mix and sat the crystals in the middle. Jimmy set out the plates and put a hefty slice of cake on each pink saucer. He then readied the tea for them.

"This is the first time I'm going to experience British tea!" Gwen said. Jimmy's eyes widened in surprise. "I haven't made you tea yet? Well, you're in for a treat!" He grabbed the bowl of sugar cubes and the decanter of cream. "You put cream in your tea? You're going to hell. Not even regular hell- you're going to super hell. That's disgusting." As she ragged his tradition he became more and more offended. "Oh, I'm sorry, would you like me to drizzle some fructose corn syrup in there? Maybe a little bacon grease?" He mocked.

"What my people do is none of your concern. Nothing is worse than putting fricken' cream in tea! Sugar I can understand. But cream is unforgivable. This is what's wrong with Britain." He shot her a devious glare before bursting into laughter. She joined him in his jovial song. "But really, you enjoy this?" She said seriously. He grimaced before dumping a large stream of cream into her cup.

"This is going to be disgusting. But I'll try it. Just for you." She loudly sipped the drink, causing Jimmy to choke on his. She laughed before taking a long swallow. She wrinkled her brow and frowned. "Pretty good." She wore a thinly veiled pained face as she desperately smiled. They once again broke into laughter.

The rest of the afternoon was spent laughing and soaking up every ounce of their time together. Time seemed to stop when they were together. Hours dragged on for days and days seemed to last years. Even though they spent a large majority of their time lounging around performing mundane, domestic tasks, they enjoyed it more than anything else in the world.

"I cannot believe it's already nine-thirty. I have been here ALL day. It feels like just a few hours." She said. She laid her head on Jimmy's lap, looking up at his peaceful face. "I also can't believe you made me drink that mud-water you call tea. You know, in America, we put some honey and sugar in and we call it a day. And it's alright. Doesn't hurt your stomach; it's nice and refreshing."

He once again grimaced, turning his nose up at her. "That's why you're all uncivilized. You didn't grow up experiencing the joy of afternoon tea. There was nothing like going to an auntie's house and dipping little biscuits into mugs of hot tea. God, how I miss it." He held a closed fist to his chest as he sanctimoniously spoke.

"Did I just catch Jimmy Page reminiscing over childhood memories? By god, he 'as a soul!" She mocked his proper accent. This caused him to roll his eyes in retaliation. "Yes, I've got a soul. Bless your heart, but I don't think you do. I don't think i've heard one story about your family or your childhood." He was smug.

Gwen got very serious and leaned in. "Okay, now it's time for this talk. I haven't talked to my family in a number of years. They're actually the reason I moved out here. My childhood was... not very great. I try to stay as far away from them as possible. So an ocean works for me!"

He was quiet for a moment. "That's because you lot didn't have afternoon tea." Gwen gave him an angry look that quickly molded into a smile. She broke into laughter, grasping her chest. "You're a dick." She slapped his arm.

-

The two spent the next hour watching movies in the front room. The sun began to set, causing the room to look dark. This was a perfect excuse for her to light more candles. She looked to Jimmy when she got off the couch. He was laying peacefully on the cushions. His mess of curls were covering his face.

She made her way upstairs to collect more candles from his room. When she pushed the door open, there was a guitar laying on his bed. It was a light colored acoustic. The wood look expensive. It was a lovely instrument. She hadn't seen it before. She picked it up and sat with it on her lap on the bed. It was light in her hands and dug into her thigh. She didn't know how to play but she began strumming. A scratchy sound came first as she fiddled with a pattern. After a minute or two a melody presented itself. It sounded pretty good, actually. She gave a devious laugh and sat the guitar back down.

She leaned down to grab the candles from the organizer under his bookshelf. This bin had candles, leaflets, and matches stored in it. He had another one beside it that had herbs and pendants. None of the bins were particularly organized. Jimmy wasn't a tidy person, it seemed. His cleaning lady was a necessity. One candle was red and the other pink. Interesting colors.

Two arms wrapped around her body, pulling her in. She screamed at first, but realized it was just him. The long arms and thin body pressed against her was a tell-tale sign. "You scared the fuck out of me!"

He sent her a mischievous laugh. He was amused by her screaming. They had an antagonstic relationship in this sense. They enjoyed hiding behind doors to scare each other. Sometimes she even stuck her foot out when he got off the couch. It got him every time and he tumbled to the ground. He looked to the guitar on his bed, examining its position. "Have you played my guitar?"

"How the hell do you know?"

"It's been moved. And I can see the imprint of you sitting in the blankets." He said.

"You're a genius."

He sat next to the guitar and picked it up. "You're the first one to play this beauty. I picked it up before you got here this morning. You're a devilish snoop." He began to strum. His head was cast down, his face now covered by his mass of dark curls. His attention was immediately sucked up by the instrument. The song he played was dark and repetitive. She could feel herself becoming entranced. He was seducing her with his playing.

When his song was over he simply sat the guitar down and turned to her. "How did you like it?" She laughed at first. He was asking for validation of his playing. I assume he got enough of that on tour.

When she saw his face she laughed even more. He looked very upset, like he might cry. She couldn't tell if it was a joke or not. "No, it was wonderful, as always. I was laughing because you're this rock god asking me if you sounded good. Because that's a given." His face perked up at her words.

"I wanted to know what you thought. I've never played that one for you. Usually you're throwing yourself over me as soon as I'm finished." He gave a cheeky grin.

Her eyes rolled and she took a seat next to him. "How could I not when you play like that?" She put the guitar on the ground and got on top of Jimmy. She straddled his hips and looked down at him. His face was innocent as ever, his fairy features taking in the sights of her.

"I have something I need to tell you." He braced her arms in his hands, "I have to go back on tour soon."

"You're leaving? For how long?" Her brows pushed together in pain.

"Six months."

Her chest began to ache at his words. "Wow... That's not... a long time." She didn't know what to think. All thoughts left her. At an instant this dream was tumbling down. She was certain that this fling was now over. He would cast her aside, left in the garbage to reminisce on the time she spent with Jimmy Page.

"I understand if you don't want to see me when I return. It's quite a long time to be absent." His words upset her. He seemed to be so enamored by her, was it all a lie? Was she crazy? She thought maybe he was trying to push her away, to get her to let him off the hook so he didn't have to deal with the pain of letting her down.

"Of course I want to see you when you get back," She was now grasping at him, "I really do like you. These last couple weeks have been the best of my life. I just can't believe you're going to be gone that long. Didn't you just get back from tour as well?"

"Yes, I have. But that's the thing about Zeppelin, we tour a lot. And you're going to have to get used to it."

She smiled slyly, "I'm gonna have to get used to it, eh? That means you want me to stick around, eh?" She poked his cheek and coaxed a laugh from him. "Yes, I do. You're very lovely." She smiled and cuddled into his chest. The thoughts that previously haunted her left. She put them to bed, no matter how much they fought against the sheets.

"I'm very sad that you're leaving. But I'll have to soak up all the Jimmy I can before you go." He pet her hair. "I'll have to get all the Gwen I can." He leaned his head on her cheek.

(Plus Jimmy’s)

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

Taglist: 

@jonesyjonesyjonesy , @anothercanyonlady , @jimmys-zeppelin , @paginate54 , @jimmypages​

[lizhly-writes]

camp nano july 2021: days 19-20

[14566/25000]

I should probably come up with a tag for this story at some point.  Anyway, I have spent the past two days writing more than my daily required wordcount -- thank you, writing sprints -- and with any luck, if that continues, I’ll be back to writing 806-ish words a day, you know, like I should’ve from the beginning.  We’ll see!

An excerpt:

“What did I do to her,” Mina repeats, tapping fingers on her upper arm.  “Really, your go-to assumption is… that I stole someone’s body.  Me, personally.  That’s really the first thing you come up with.”

“Don’t play with me, I know you did it,” he hisses, eyes aglow with… ah, no, they’re actually literally glowing, huh.  What an effect!  Mina swears she knows ladies who’d kill for a quirk like that, it’s really quite the attention-getter.  

But if he’s bringing it out like this… surely it has more meaning than just a conversation piece.  Maybe, perhaps…

“You’re really very cute when you’re angry, has anyone ever told you that,” Mina says offhandedly.  It’s true — he really does look so much less average once he has emotion written loud and bold on his face, she might even go as far as to say attractive — but it’s also something she says so she can think.

Mina’s not going to lie, she did think things were odd.  A voice that doesn’t sound like she expects, a body doesn’t move how she expects, but she’d thought maybe it was simply the effects of a hangover.  She’d thought there was something wrong with her perception of things, not that things themselves were actually incorrect.  Oh, the too-long hair and the strange clothes couldn’t be as easily explained away, but there are ways to get around that.  She’d thought she just had a very wild night.  But if this boy is accusing her of body stealing — well.  That’s an interesting conclusion to come to.

Casually, she examines her nails.  Ragged and dull, not at all like the nice, clean, sharp points she prefers, tipping fingers that are a little thicker than she remembers, skin a shade or so darker than before, with warm undertones rather than cool.  As far as she knows, this isn’t something that be easily caused by a single wild night at the university.  Oh, getting injuries she can’t remember, sure, that happens all the time, not that she notices anything happened at all until Emily points out the tears in her clothes.  Transformations?  Like this?  Unlikely.

So what, exactly, happened to her?

“Were you talking to me?” Mina says, still looking over her nails.  “I wasn’t paying attention, did you say something important.”

…Well, it’s certainly gone very quiet, so if he was talking before, she’s definitely shut him up.

As it turns out, he’s no longer a hairsbreadth away from strangling him.  Instead, he’s staring steadily at her from the entrance of the alleyway, arms crossed and mouth drawn tight as he taps a foot rhythmically against stained, cracked pavement.

“What’s with that face,” Mina says, cocking her head in a way that she knows accentuates the line of her neck.  No real reaction from him.  He only narrows his eyes, the glow in his irises bright enough now to cast strange shadows around his face.  

“Neither of us are getting out of here,” he says, very quietly, “until you tell me what happened to Allison.”

Oh, hello.  What’s this?

“Oh?” Mina says, drawing the syllable out.  She’s starting to get delighted; she can feel the smile starting to stretch across her face.  “Really.  Is that so?  And who’s stopping me?  You?”

The sheer thought of it is hilarious.  If there’s anything that Wilhelmina Sterling’s made of, it’s sheer brute force strength of will and the terrifying, death-defying stamina and constitution to back it up.  It’s one thing being knocked down — that’s nothing, that’s just a fact of life, just as it’s a fact of life that Mina always gets back up, no matter what — but actually being stopped?  Actually being told that she can’t do something?

That’s a challenge, plain and simple, and it’s made by this boy who has his serious face on, ready and willing to try, and absolutely she is going to break him.

He tenses up defensively when she takes a few deliberate steps forward, but he stays in place, like a rock, like a boulder, like he’s really pretending to be some kind of divine immovable object, even when she’s close enough to touch him.  She contemplates doing just that, and wonders if he’d break that stone face and go back to embarrassed, flustered red if she leaned in close enough, narrowed the distance to the kind of distance that people would call intimate and suggestive and — ha! — inappropriate.

Then she punches him in the face.  Well, she tries to, at any rate. He spits out something incomprehensible and meaningless as he steps out of the way, and she’s at once uncountably disappointed that her fist doesn’t smash through his face and absolutely thrilled that it isn’t over just like that.  Her fist passes through empty air — should pass through empty air.  Instead, it stops in place, like she’s hit an invisible wall, with all the damage and pain hitting a solid wall would do.

Oh, that’s interesting.

“So this is what you can do,”  Mina says, smile going sharp.  “How many times I have to punch you before that stops working?”

Of course, maybe it doesn’t.  Some people earn skills that rely on careful, conscious control.  Others pick up talents or curses that simply don’t turn off.  And then there’s the entire spectrum in between.  Now the question is, of course, where does he fall?

“You could just tell me where she is,” he grits out.  “Wouldn’t that be easier than trying to fight me?”

“I could,” Mina says, flexing her hand experimentally.  The skin over her knuckles is shredded and welling up blood; there’s an ache in her bones, the kind that says she hasn’t broken something, but she sure is pretty damn close.

She makes a dismissive sweeping motion with her hands, and instantly the pain disappears, skin knitting back up as if it never happened. “But where’s the fun in that?”

She lunges.  That invisible barrier he has in front of him shatters under her fist.

[rolanberry-rebel]

Info sheet: Kjalla Nisemi

Name: Kjalla Nisemi Nicknames: K, Two-Guns, “oh hell, not her!”, “Gun-bunny” if you want to get shot Race: Viera (rava) Age: mid-late 30s in hyuran years, exact age unknown (even to her, really) Gender: Cis female Orientation: Whatever suits her at the moment Relationship status: Whatever suits her at the moment Profession: Professional psycho, hired gun, mechanic

Height: 6′2″ Weight: 160lbs. Eyes: Icy blue Hair: Dark blue Skin: Greyish-blue Build: Fit, busty Scars: Deep scar along the left side of her jaw, scarring around her wrists and fingers, scar tissue along her neck. Tattoos: Blue markings along her face; a thorny blue vine splayed down the back of her neck, along her right shoulder and twining around her right bicep Fashion: Spartan and street-tough; never goes anywhere without her kickin’ boots and a good jacket. Loves leather, loves fishnets, loves denim, loves spikes. Comfortable and not necessarily showy. Dark colors. Loves red; loves black. Not afraid to show off what she’s got. When she thinks she’ll need it she's outfitted in the one of the suits of heavy armor she custom-builds herself, varying from more mobile sets of light plate to bulky, gadget-augmented battle suits. Accessories: Kjalla wears a fair amount of jewelry, a lot of it worn and tarnished, suggesting it might have some sentimental value. Often seen with a smattering of dull gold and silver rings, earrings, and a bridge piercing with a pair of rubies at each end.

Birthplace: the Golmore jungles somewhere. Residence: Her junk shop/personal safehouse off of a private jetty near Kugane. Alignment: Chaotic Evil Hobbies: Violence, rowdy nights out, any and every manner of indulgence, creating new weapons and gadgets for her armors, salvaging and experimenting with old junk, making and spending lots of gil Likes: Exciting experiences, adrenaline rushes, the opposite sex, the same sex, swapping stories, swapping punches, money, people with guts, alcohol, tinkering away Dislikes: Cowards, soft people, pretty things, lalafel, you if you get in her way. And chocobos. Disgusting things. Personality: Erratic and unconstrained, shifting wildly with her impulsive mood swings. One night you buy her a drink and you might flirt your way back to her junk-shop; the next she might put a round through your skull. More than anything she likes to surprise and be surprised, so always expect the unexpected. Always headstrong and often arrogant, and you should absolutely never tell her what to do. Ever. In spite of her crazed impulses, when she’s not in a bad mood Kjalla can be incorrigibly flirtatious, friendly, and fun to have a good night out with. Virtues: Strong, physically and emotionally; there’s very little that will break her, and she’s seen it all. Strong leadership instinct, whether through her charisma or force of character simply overwhelming others into following. Obsessively self-sufficient and fiercely independent. Determined and diligent when there’s work to do, and will not quit until she gets it done. Streetwise, clever, skilled; not conventionally smart but picks up new hands-on skills quickly. A fierce, experienced fighter. Unfailingly loyal to those who prove themselves worth it. Bad habits: The obvious - she’s utterly immoral, indulging in any behavior if it makes her feel good. Impulsive, reckless, violent, quick to anger and lash out at others. Heart hard as a rock and a firm believer in the survival of the fittest (the fittest, of course, being her). Trusts next to no one and will betray others save her closest circle if it helps her get ahead. Stubborn as hell. Promiscuous with little regard for whom it might hurt. Huge chip on her shoulder. Has a major problem with authority. Unintelligent by conventional standards, and completely dead to magic.

Significant Other: *derisive laughter* Children: *even more incredulous laughter* Family: All presumed dead, except for her sister Eyrisse, from whom she is estranged. Pets: Linchpin and Electrode, her pair of baby coeurls, who live at her junk-shop. Their unique grounding and electrical powers help Kjalla with her electrical experiments.

Friends: People aren’t friends to Kjalla; they’re tools, things to be used, experienced and discarded. (Most of the time, anyway...)

You might know Kjalla if...

Merciless Mercenary. Kjalla is a notoriously cutthroat sellsword, unscrupulous - more than willing and able to do any job big or small, just as long as kids aren’t involved. (That’s the one line she doesn’t cross.) From political leaders to petty thieves, she’s taken them all. Her race may paint her as a novelty - it’s not often you see a viera mercenary traipsing around the world, after all - but she’s no laughing matter. If you hire mercenaries, work with them, or are one yourself, there’s a good chance you’ve heard of her, under one of her assorted names - some flattering, some very much not.

Underworld Surgeon. Kjalla has no magical healing talent but she’s a darn good field surgeon, and has a great knowledge of alchemical remedies, salves and drugs. A ‘side-job’ of hers is to sell her services as a mundane healer to shady characters who, for fear of the law, of the attention, or otherwise - avoid visiting a reputable establishment for healing after an incident. Criminals on the run, overdose cases, just someone who wants to stay off the grid - if you’re in need of a quick patching-up and you’d rather keep it discreet, her junk-shop is always open.

Life of the Party. Kjalla is a staple in a few of her favorite seedy dives in cities across the world - and would certainly be recognizable to regulars, given scar-covered, foul-mouthed viera with backwater accents aren’t exactly easy to miss. If you frequent these kinds of establishments, you’ve no doubt heard of, seen, and maybe even gotten into a drunken brawl with her.

Purveyor of Dangerous and Exploding Things. Kjalla loves weapons - all of them, but especially guns, bombs, tasers, flamethrowers, dynamite, and weapons far more bizarre and exotic. If you’re a weapon collector, an arms dealer, or if you’re looking to outfit yourself with something significantly more dangerous, you’ve no doubt run in to back-alley gunrunners and smugglers who’ve mentioned her as a supplier. Conversely, if you’re searching for training in gunsmithing or engineering from a master, she might consider it... you’ll probably wind up dead, though, so maaaybe not a good idea... unless that’s your kink. 

Garlean Killer: There’re few jobs Kjalla loves more than the ones where she gets to pop Garlean heads like grapes. Though one could scarcely call the viera a principled woman whose violence is politically sophisticated, she takes a perverse delight in torturing and killing agents of the empire, even if she’s not getting paid to do it. Naturally her reputation for murdering prominent officers, personnel, facilities, and stealing lots of Garlean technology has made her a notorious outlaw in the empire, and if you’re involved in any of those fields, you’d recognize her scarred visage anywhere. Just be careful - she really does love planting bullets right in those third eyes.

Hi! I’ve been RPing forever and I’m lookin for new friends!

Adult female OOCly who’s RPed in every game you can probably think of and happy RPing lots of themes/scene types so long as we talk about it beforehand.

Kjalla is violent, rude, crude, and lustful. I however am (well, in my opinion, anyway...) none of those things, and am happy to talk with nice people! Just be aware most RP involving her’s gonna be one of those things, lol.

Available at random times, usually late evenings EST. Will always try to respond to private messages here no matter when you send them though!

Discord: I’m not on there very much, but I know it’s become a big way for a lotta people to do most of their OOC communication/RP threads so I’m willing to get on there if you wanna talk!

In-game: Anylissa Sebastis (Balmung) or Kjalla Nisemi (Mateus)

If you’re not into psychotic rabbit-ladies, I have my playful spoiled heiress, Anylissa, if you’d prefer. :>

[7men]

Superhero AU powers.

I would be a bad blogger if I didn't take the chance to pimp my other posts featuring the boys with superpowers: Here is where they are. That's probably not all of them, but hey.

Frankly I love the idea of JD being like Spiderman, or a technopath. He's a whiz kid either way, more energy than he knows what to do with and bit of a daredevil streak that's really just not being old enough to Get that yeah he could die, that's a possibility. JD swinging through the air on his way to work because it's just easier than taking transit or driving, or fooling the card readers at the station into always neglecting to take the money off his card (he asks so politely too).

Ezra as a mind reader is delightful, Ezra being supernaturally lucky is even better. Ezra who can manipulate probability might be a little on the nose, but I love it anyway. There's no way Maude knows or she'd never have let him out of her sight, because there is literally no limit to what Ezra can do, nothing he can't accomplish with just the right push, and that makes him terrifying. Especially when you consider he's... not doing any of that. Not toppling governments or winning the lottery. Just... hanging out. Winning poker without even using his talents. This makes everyone who has any idea who he is or what he can do incredibly nervous.

Josiah the empath has been done in at least one fic, which I do like, and Josiah with super strength is also good. I think I prefer super strength for multiple reasons. One of them is the image of Josiah picking up one of the guys with one hand and just chucking them at the Problem of the Day.

Nathan the healer is, again, obvious, but let the man have one thing to make his life easier, just one. On the other hand, Nathan has such a good heart and wants to help people so much that I'd worry he'd burn himself out if he could heal. So maybe Nathan the metal manipulator. Those knives of his go exactly where he wants them and no further, no matter what, even if it's around a corner and half a block away. And pulling bullets out of things, and people, is so much simpler when you don't have to use tools to do it.

Vin with a healing factor or super senses or supernatural reflexes are all very good, Vin flying is the one that hits me hard though. Vin soaring above all the problems of the day, swooping over parks and buildings and people, wind in his hair and sun on his face. Doesn't matter if it's with wings or not, as long as Vin can fly, he'd be happy. (He may have set up several aeries on hard to reach roofs. You know. For privacy. And the view. Also so he can stash his candy where JD can't get it.)

Buck the pyrokinetic wouldn't raise as many eyebrows as it should, and it's lots of fun thinking about him using it in the stupidest most mundane ways. Bad pickup lines. Offering ladies a light, which is a finger that is on fire and not a lighter. Warming up his coffee and usually burning either it or himself. Or singeing the mug, his dishes are a nightmare, and yes he does burn a lot of the food he cooks. He doesn't appreciate the jokes. (But also Buck, lit by red fire light, slinging fireballs around like they're nothing, breathing fire like he's an honest to god dragon, enough to light up the night and feel the heat from a block away.)

Chris usually gets nailed as telekinetic in fics, which is fair. He doesn't scream one kind of power the same way the others do, he's a little harder to nail down. But I do like telekinetic for him. When he's annoyed enough things shake, but when he's really angry the air is absolutely still, and people in the vicinity find they can't move. Glass might shatter, and it's very hard to avoid or defend yourself against the terrifying man coming for you when your feet are literally nailed to the floor, and you can't pull the trigger.

Send me an AU and I'll write 5+ things about it!

[chukular]

REALLY RIDICULOUSLY DETAILED CHARACTER STATS.

FULL NAME: Shuu Iwamine. He’s gone by plenty of other aliases, though. NICKNAME(S): Iwameanie, ninja doctor, Snufkin, Assistant Branch Manager of Darkness, Isa. AGE: Late twenties. MYERS-BRIGGS TYPE: INTJ. BIRTH DATE: December 12th. ETHNICITY: Chukar partridge. PLACE OF BIRTH: Japan. GENDER IDENTITY: Cis male. PREFERRED PRONOUN(S): He/Him. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: He doesn’t care enough to think about it. There’s only ever been one person he’s cared for, anyway. RELIGION: Atheism. OCCUPATION: Despite being a globally recognized figure in science and medicine he’s working as a school nurse at the prestigious St. Pigeonation’s. In reality he’s a Hawk Party agent working undercover within the school. FACE CLAIM: Himself.

Relationships

PARENTS: Shuu Iwamine was born to rich parents and an affluent family as Utsuro Ichijou. They were neglectful; he was lonely. While not outright abusive there was a total lack of emotional connection within the family. When they died in a human terrorist attack he felt relieved to be rid of them. SIBLINGS: He is an only child. SIGNIFICANT OTHER(S): None. CHILDREN: Miru and Kaku, his unofficial adoptees. They’re failed lab experiments left behind by a senior researcher within the Hawk Party he’d worked under and admired a long time ago. LEVEL OF SEXUAL EXPERIENCE: None. Have you seen him? Have you played through his route? His entire backstory is being an incel. STORY OF FIRST KISS: He hasn’t had one. A SOCIAL PERSON? Very much not. He only ever spends time around other people when he’s trying to get something out of them. HOW DO THEY THINK OTHERS PERCEIVE THEM? He could genuinely care less. HOW DO OTHERS ACTUALLY PERCEIVE THEM? They are all terrified of him. He’s got a horrendous reputation and an even worse track record of behaviour. Spending time around him alone is known to bring people down with terrible afflictions.

Physical Traits

EYE COLOR(S): A deep, surprisingly pretty violet. HAIR COLOR(S): Brown. HEIGHT: 5′11. WEIGHT: 120 lbs. BODY BUILD: He’s very lean and underweight, albeit not to an exceptionally alarming extent. He’s still notably thin. GLASSES? CONTACTS? Glasses, and necessary ones at that. He’s blind as a bat without the things. STYLE OF DRESS/TYPICAL OUTFITS: Sweater vests atop button down shirts, violet slacks, ugly ties and lab coats. He’s literally colourblind, so on occasion his clothes don’t really match. He usually gets neutral colours to avoid it. JEWELRY? TATTOOS? PIERCINGS? None. ATHLETIC? Absolutely the heck not. He doesn’t work out at all, and thanks to the injuries he sustained as a child he’s got hemiparesis down his right side preventing him from wanting to try more vigorous activity. HOW DO THEY WALK: He’s incredibly light footed, to the point where he can move around almost soundlessly. Despite that he’s pretty slow; thanks to his hemiparesis he’s got a limp. HOW DO THEY SMELL LIKE: Like antiseptic and rubbing alcohol covered up with some surprisingly pricy cologne. WHAT’S THEIR POSTURE LIKE? A bit of a slouch. He’s hunched over his work often.

Phobias and Diseases

PHOBIA(S): Fear of ??? (literally who knows. He definitely frets often about being unable to control his own emotions, though). MENTAL DISEASE(S): A lot. PHYSICAL DISEASE(S): Also a lot, though these are easier to list. Hemiparesis down his right side and being colourblind are his two biggest ones. WHEN WAS THIS DIAGNOSED? Around the age of ten, following a violent explosion he’d been caught up in.

Intellect

LEVEL OF EDUCATION: Advanced graduate degree. LEVEL OF SELF-ESTEEM: Moderately high. GIFTS/TALENTS: He’s a literal genius, having served as the head of the Hawk Party’s LiSciRe department as a teenager. One of his past assumed identities was as a public prosecutor too, so he’s got plenty of both legal and medical know-how. SHORTCOMINGS: His entire personality and his total inability to process any emotion other than schadenfreude and frustration take the cake, but he’s got other ones, too. STYLE OF SPEECH: Formal, but not polite. He goes out of his way to creep people out and seems to take trollish delight in upsetting people and being blatant about his illegal activities around others. “LEFT BRAIN” OR “RIGHT BRAIN” THINKER: Whichever one science is. ARTISTIC? Not in the slightest. MATHEMATICAL? With all his being. MAKES DECISIONS BASED MOSTLY ON EMOTIONS, OR ON LOGIC? He claims to be entirely logical, and to his credit he does a fairly good job at putting out that sort of persona. Unfortunately for him the reality is that everything he does tends to revolve around the emotions he feels towards his late mentor. MOST SENSITIVE ABOUT/VULNERABLE TO: His own feelings. OPTIMIST OR PESSIMIST? Pessimist, though he’d call it being a realist. EXTROVERT OR INTROVERT? Introvert. He isn’t shy, he just hates people.

Details/Quirks

NIGHT OWL OR EARLY BIRD? Night owl. He crashes on his desk more often that not. LIGHT OR HEAVY SLEEPER? Light sleeper. FAVORITE FOOD: Stretchy gummy candy. LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: None. He’ll eat most things. COFFEE OR TEA? Tea. CRUNCHY OR SMOOTH PEANUT BUTTER? Crunchy. LEFTY OR RIGHTY? Lefty. His right side is difficult to use. FAVORITE COLOR? Red. CUSSER? Not really, no. SMOKER? DRINKER? DRUG USER? He likes keeping control of himself and being aware of his surroundings, so not really. PETS? No, but he does keep Miru and Kaku around. They’re more pseudo-kids than pets, though.

tagged by: myself! took this from a different blog of mine tagging: ANYBODY WHO WANTS TO DO IT ☆ JUST SAY PIGEON TAGGED YOU ☆☆☆

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.20}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

It was a week before Christmas break, on a snowy Friday evening, when Robin and Snape found themselves sitting at one of the tables in the lab yet again, waiting patiently while their newest project simmered quietly in a small cauldron in front of them. Eventually the draught would turn in colour, going from a dull yellowish brown to a brilliant ruby red, but until then there was nothing to do but chat while they had their usual evening coffee.

After the firewhisky endeavour in late October, most of November and December had gone by remarkably unspectacularly, and while they had spent some more evenings in Snape's room throughout that time, mainly because of the music that had stayed in his room in form of Robin's old record player, Robin hadn't ever dared to even consider staying over again. Not that she wouldn't have wanted to –gods, she would give about anything even just to sleep in that cloud of a bed again– but she was rather certain that she couldn't spend another night in his space without doing something stupid. Especially when he was starting to become less opposed to this innocent physical closeness, to her touch and to touching her in return, she was better off sparing herself the temptation of crossing lines she shouldn't even come close to. They had already gotten so far, and she couldn't jeopardize that for a ridiculous spurt of nightly braveness. So it was their normal routine of staying up until ungodly hours to work and talk and simply enjoy each other's company that brightened her days no matter what.

"Your hair smells like pineapple again." Snape remarked in a dramatic sigh, which effectively drew Robin out of her head again.

"Yeah, well, I forgot my shampoo and had to steal from Cas once more." She shrugged with a humoured huff, then took a long sip of her cooled down coffee and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Do you honestly detest pineapple that much?"

"Yes. They smell too sweet for how acidic they are."

"But I know for a fact that you like lemons, and those are even more acidic."

"I do like lemons, yes."

"Funny."

"For someone who cannot tell lemons and limes apart it certainly must be, yes."

Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, but the smile on her lips gave away her true sentiments. He honestly would never let her live that down… and it had been years! That man had a memory better than a photo album or an audio recorder, and she found herself stuck between pride, envy and admiration. The middle would do.

"Next time I'll use Jorien's coconut body wash too, so that you get stuck with me smelling like a freaking piña colada, if you'd prefer that." She teased him right back with a small smirk, but then couldn't help laughing at his horrified expression. "Don't worry, I for my part have no intention of smelling like a fruity cocktail. Would be the cherry on top of everything, eh?"

"Funny." Now it was Snape who rolled his eyes, using his flattest and most indifferent tone, and Robin had to laugh even more. Especially when he finally couldn't help the smirk on his lips any longer either.

"Speaking of drinks, isn't-..." Robin was cut off by a loud knock, which made both her and Snape frown at each other simultaneously, then at the door. It was past one o'clock in the morning; who the hell would dare bothering them at this time?! With every intention to find an answer to that question, it was Robin who jumped off her chair and skipped to the door this time around, with Snape just a few steps behind her.

When she opened up, she was greeted by the kind and absolutely unsurprised face of none other than Professor McGonagall. Robin's eyebrows rose for a second, but she didn't forget her manners over her surprise. "Good evening, Professor. Is everything alright?"

"Good evening indeed, Miss Mitchell. Severus…" McGonagall gave both of them a nod and a smile, looking from one to the other as Snape came to stand so close behind Robin that she could feel his warmth on her back, as well as the gentle brush of his robes whenever he took a breath. It took quite a bit of effort on her part to keep focusing on McGonagall as she spoke on, clearly addressing Snape now. "I'm afraid I have news you won't like to hear."

"What happened?" Snape's voice was the perfect disdainful indifference once more, and Robin had no doubt that his expression was made to match.

"Pomona received an urgent owl an hour ago and henceforth has personal matters to attend to all weekend, which means she will not be able to see to the mandatory dancing instructions of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students tomorrow morning, and seeing as Filius isn't an option, by his own choice may I add, you're going to have to attend to half of the students, Severus." McGonagall stated in one long breath, with a pointed expression that left no room for arguments. Behind Robin's back, Snape held his breath for a second, which she only could tell by the lacking brush of fabric against her jumper.

"Certainly." He finally drawled, dutiful as much as disdainful. It wasn't hard to guess his thoughts on the matter, especially after he had successfully avoided giving this dance class for the past years. "I shall instruct the Slytherins myself, and whichever half of Pomona's students you wish to… impose on me."

"The Ravenclaws should be a better fit for you, I believe." The transfiguration professor was quick to reply. "Would you mind having the time between breakfast and lunch, in the great hall? I myself would prefer the timeframe from lunch until dinner."

"I am not partial to any time."

"It's settled then. You'll teach the Slytherins and Ravenclaws after breakfast." McGonagall smiled almost mischievously, or at least in a decent amount of amusement. "I believe a standard waltz shouldn't be a problem to you, after demonstrating it quite so nicely with Miss Mitchell at last year's ball."

Snape didn't reply, but Robin could feel him glaring at McGonagall over her shoulder. Honestly, she couldn't even blame him for being annoyed by the turn of events. This was probably the last thing he had expected to be doing on this Saturday, especially since they had previously made different plans. Looks like those would have to wait yet again.

"Anyway, I don't want to hold you two up any longer than necessary." McGonagall finally spoke on when nobody replied to her previous statement. "What is it you are doing at this time of night anyway?"

"Working." Both Robin and Snape replied in unison, in the same evading neutrality, and the woman in front of them couldn't help smiling in sincere amusement at their mannerisms.

"I see." She said, and tried to glance past Snape into the lab, only to give up after a half-hearted attempt. "I was merely being curious; I unfortunately have to conduct most of my experiments alone these days."

"If you find yourself looking for an assistant, I can only recommend you to ask Jorien Blakeley. She would be delighted, and I know for a fact that she has a remarkably strong interest in transfiguration." Robin couldn't help the blurb of words from escaping, but she also didn't quite regret it. "And as far as I'm aware, she has been getting fairly high grades as well."

McGonagall looked surprised at the suggestion, then she frowned to herself for a moment and finally smiled at Robin again as she went to reply. "Miss Blakeley really does have a talent for the subject, however I wasn't aware that she would take interest in furthering her knowledge beyond the classroom topics. Nor that she would enjoy having to spend more time with me than necessary."

"Believe me, she does. Very much so even. But she admires you too much to bother you with questions she believes to be too insignificant. Actually, she believes herself to be too insignificant. I try to tutor her as much as possible, but I am by far not the most proficient in the subject, nor can I teach her as much as she would want to learn."

"I certainly will consider speaking to the girl about assisting me then. Thank you, Miss Mitchell." McGonagall said in prevailing mild amusement, but definitely also appreciation, and then gave both Snape and Robin another nod. "Anyway, goodnight for now. I will see you both tomorrow."

As the professor left, Robin closed the door once again and let out a long breath while she followed Snape back to their stools. Perhaps McGonagall would ask Jorien for her assistance indeed, and that might just take some work off Robin's hands if the girl would get her answers from someone more adept in the subject.

"Funny." Snape said after a moment, as he gave Robin a teasing smirk. "You never admired me enough to spare me from your questions."

Robin gave him an immediate glare, but then also a smirk in return. "No, I admired you enough to know that you were the only one who could keep up with my questions in the first place."

"You've always been by far brighter than anyone around you." His smirk widened, and Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly to act over the warmth spreading in her chest and on her cheeks. "Logically, nobody but me could handle you even if you came with instructions."

"Hey!" She couldn't help laughing again at last, and nudged him in the shoulder before she slumped down in her seat. "I don't even know if that last part was supposed to be a compliment or an insult."

"That would be for you to decide."

Indeed, Robin decided on taking it as a compliment. If he thought that his intellect had somewhat found a match in her, she honestly could only feel flattered, brilliant as he was. Besides, he had long stopped insulting her for anything more than a tease in the first place… so a compliment it was. And honestly, Robin absolutely didn't mind that he was the only one who was able to handle her, and she even wholeheartedly agreed with that assessment. But the thought of handling things brought her on to a different topic of thought in an instant, and she frowned to herself for a second.

"I guess our plans for tomorrow are cancelled now, aren't they?" She stated more than asked, and the amusement faded off her face as it vanished from his as well. "I mean, we'll never make it all the way around the black lake between lunch and dinner, especially not in this snow. It'll be too dark to see our own feet even before we have walked half the distance if we start in the afternoon."

"Unfortunately." He sighed, then his face set in a scowl. "Teaching fifty fourth years how to dance certainly is the last thing I expected to do tomorrow."

For a second Robin had to snort at the confirmation of her previous assumption, in almost the same words even, but it was a bitter amusement and it confused Snape more than it cheered either of them up, so her face set back into a grim expression before long . "Too bad Sprout had urgent matters to attend to right on this weekend, out of an entire year to choose from."

"I was starting to believe I had once and for all gotten out of giving dancing lessons… The previous years I wasn't even asked to."

"I luckily only had to suffer through it once, during fifth year. Remember that? I danced with this redhead and everyone made a big deal out of it."

"How could I forget?" Snape huffed, rolling his eyes. "Minerva kept going on and on afterwards about how neat it would be to… encourage that non-existent connection she however believed to see between you and the Weasley boy."

Robin was the one rolling her eyes now, with an indignant scoff to accompany the expression. "Honestly, even back then I was far closer to you than to that boy, or to anyone at all really. You knew that, I even told you about it!"

"That you did." He confirmed, then lost some of the annoyance as he let out a quiet sigh. "I believe it isn't of relevance anymore, Minerva has long since come to her senses as has everyone else who attempted to conspire on the issue. But other than that, I would still like to hear more about your dancing lesson."

"Ah, yes…" Robin said, as the realization hit her that he probably hadn't received any such lessons during his time as a student nor gotten to witness the ones given in the previous years. "Well, uh, it wasn't spectacular actually. In the beginning there was a quick explanation about the whys and hows of dancing, and then McGonagall forced some seventh year boy to demonstrate the dance with her. After that we just had to pick a partner and practiced for like… two hours perhaps. A bit longer maybe. That's it."

"I assume Minerva corrected your errors while you practiced?"

"I'm not too bad at dancing, so she didn't concern herself much with me, but others' mistakes she did correct relentlessly from what I could tell."

"Good. I can do that."

"I think it'll actually be easier for you than it was for her." Robin shrugged at her own thought. "You shouldn't have the problem of people slacking off and fooling around. They're far too scared of you to cause any mayhem or refuse your orders. Easy."

The corner of his lips quirked up for a second, but then set back into a grim line. "I wouldn't call forcing some dunderhead to demonstrate the dance with me particularly 'easy'. Students are far less repelled by Minerva, which makes the entire endeavour less of a sickening prospect for her in return."

Either it was his self-deprecating words or the thought of him dancing with someone else that made Robin feel sour in an instant, but either way she had to swallow the lump in her throat down quite forcefully before she replied. "I… You… uh, I understand how dreadful it must seem to you to dance with someone. But I'm sure whoever you choose will be less repelled by it than you are, if that helps anything."

"I have no intention to force anyone to dance with me at all."

"Yes, no, but… I mean, since it's the fourth years we're speaking of anyway, I'm sure you could ask Jorien. She's quite indifferent to most people; she wouldn't care if she was dancing with you or with someone else. And if I ask her to do it, she will. Especially after I just advertised her to McGonagall."

"Actually, I was going to ask you." He said, surprisingly straightforward and direct in his approach of the topic. "For the favour of helping me with the entire lesson. It would be to the best advantage of everyone if the demonstration was nothing short of perfect, and an additional pair of eyes will certainly be beneficial for the students' practice afterwards as well."

A weight lifted off Robin's heart in an instant, and she had to smile at his through and through logical and desperately appropriate reasons for asking her assistance. "Of course I will help you. Anytime, with anything. You know that. And having someone to explain the female part will probably be good too."

"Likely. To be honest however, while those are all perfectly good reasons to ask you to do this with me, they aren't truly my measure. I rather know your presence is going to make the entire ordeal a lot more bearable, as it always does. And in the end, I would simply hate to dance with anyone but you, no matter the circumstances." He added after a moment, again in a shocking easy sincerity that almost had Robin's heart leaping out of her chest.

Her smile broadened until it was allconsuming in its radiance, like all those times when she failed to suppress the stupid hope that lived in every shadow of her mind these days. No. He would hate dancing with anyone else because Robin was the only person he found bearable to touch. Not because of any other reason. Who wouldn't choose a friend over a stranger? Her smile fell, her heart sank, and she couldn't help the hurt from showing in her eyes at least.

"You really should stop that, you know…" She finally said in a sad chuckle that was heartbreaking even to her own ears.

"What?" Snape asked in return, and his expression fell in accordance with Robin's. He looked almost taken aback, confused at least, about whatever he had obviously done wrong this time and Robin felt even worse for speaking up at all. She didn't dare to answer. So he asked again. "Stop what?"

"Forcing this ridiculous hope onto me." She said before she knew, with a sad smile and a gaze that dug souldeep into his. "Every time you say things like that, it forces a little more hope to seep through the cracks in my walls, and I need you to stop. I don't want to hope, I can't bear it… Hope is dangerous. It's torturing me."

Her words seemed to confuse him even more, and while he frowned deeply at her, the subtle hurt in his own eyes was undeniable. He wanted to understand what he had done wrong… she knew. But he hadn't done anything wrong at all, nothing but being who he was. And being who he was, he wouldn't let go that easily. "Hope for what, Robin? You have to be a bit more precise if I am to understand. And I would very much like to."

The sight, the thought almost broke Robin entirely, while his blissful oblivion almost made her laugh in return. Oh, how stupid could she be? For the first time he had done absolutely everything right by being completely honest, by trying to talk about an issue, and here she was, doing absolutely everything wrong in return. It wasn't his fault that she loved him too much, and it wasn't his fault that she couldn't handle her own stupid emotions.

"Nevermind." She sighed finally, tearing her eyes away from his to look down at her empty coffee mug on the table. "I'm just being stupid because my brain is too tired to function. You know me… I talk nonsense sometimes when I'm exhausted. If it wasn't for the stupid potion that just refuses to change colour, I'd be going straight to bed."

"Actually, it changed colour twenty minutes ago and I put a stasis on it to continue the work tomorrow afternoon."

Robin groaned in frustration and closed her eyes before hiding her face in her hands. "See! I didn't even notice! Great friend you have in me… and an even worse colleague. I'm such a failure…"

For a moment it was silent in the lab, and while Robin just hoped that she hadn't entirely screwed things up, she could practically hear his mind working at light speed. Gods, he had only said he quite liked to dance with her… and she'd gone on to make a scene of it. Great. So much for being better.

"To tell you the truth, I haven't the remotest idea what to do in a moment like this. What to say or do that would make things better for you and not worse. But I assume… perhaps this is the kind of situation where an embrace might prove helpful?" He finally spoke up, reluctantly and more than a little uncertain about his assessment of the situation, but without a hint of discomfort or doubt about the underlying offer he was making. Robin's hands dropped from her face in an instant, and before she knew, her eyes were filling with tears of adoration and exhaustion and overwhelm. His brows furrowed in return, his face a careful layer of neutrality.

Robin wanted to reply, wanted to say how damn right he was in that assumption, wanted to assure him that she wasn't being so bloody emotional because of anything he had done wrong, but because of all the things he was doing right. But all she could do was to nod, and then push herself off her stool to cross the space between them. Snape for his part stayed perched on the edge of his seat when Robin wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he pulled her flush against him when his arms circled her waist in return. They were almost the same height like this, or at least closer to it, which allowed Robin to hide her face in the soft fabric in the crook of his neck when her tears finally started spilling over. She didn't even know why exactly she was being so bloody stupid right now, so ridiculous and pathetic and weird… Her almost-slip of emotions hadn't backlashed. Her secret was still safe. Their experimental potion was intact and waiting to be continued. She would get to dance with him tomorrow, and help him with a class. She even was wrapped up in the most comforting hug ever at the moment, if that alone wasn't enough reason to be happy! Everything was bloody perfect. And yet, when he ever so subtly started playing with the tips of her hair that cascaded down her back, a strangled sob escaped her lips and he stopped in an instant.

"No, please…" She sniffed before she could think better of it. His hands in her hair had felt so nice… a hint of a sign that he enjoyed their closeness as well. "Please keep doing that."

It took a few seconds before he complied, but once he did, Robin sighed under her breath, and she was almost sure that she felt him smile against her shoulder in return. True or not, the idea sufficed to send a shiver down her spine, and finally she found herself able to relax. The tension left her body like a burn washed away by the sweet relief of a cooling water, and while she sunk deeper into the warm comfort of another perfect embrace, her spiralling emotions became subject to her will once more. It really was alright… they were alright.

"I'm really looking forward to dancing with you tomorrow." Robin finally said, in a calm tone and with a calm mind once again. He deserved to know that much at least, and it was a perfectly appropriate thing to say. "The circumstances… nah, but as long as we're suffering through it together, it will be alright."

"I take it then that an embrace really does make you feel better. I shall have to remember." He replied in amusement, and while that did make Robin smile, she also wasn't fooled over the astonishment he tried to hide behind it. Indeed, it was rather sad to think that he wouldn't know how comforting the embrace of a beloved person could be. Or perhaps he simply doubted that his embrace would have this effect on her. Either way, Robin made a mental note to make him understand and believe both in the nearer future.

"You shall indeed, I do feel a lot better. Always, with you." She sighed softly and closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of his arms around her now that she could focus on it at last. "Still am beyond tired though."

"Perhaps you should go to bed. Tomorrow certainly will be exhausting enough with all the dunderheads stumbling through the room and tripping over their own two feet."

"We should totally play bullshit bingo with the idiotic things they might say or do…" Robin chuckled to herself and absentmindedly traced the seams of his robes she could reach with her fingertips. "That might just make the entire ordeal more amusing. For us, at least."

"How… temptingly unprofessional." He drawled in return, and the deep tone of his voice being so delightfully juxtaposed by his words made Robin snicker even more. "We most definitely should play indeed."

"I think I'm a bad influence on you." She yawned, and somehow it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her legs from giving out beneath her, now that her entire body was relaxing and being held up by his. "And I would have to say that I love it."

Her words made Snape chuckle, which was a sound so exquisite in its low rumbling depths that it sent new waves of shivers all over Robin's body, which left goosebumps in their wake in return. Bloody hell, he most definitely could feel the effects he had on her now… But at least he was kind or indifferent enough not to comment on it. She could always blame it on being cold or tired or something of that sort, should the necessity arise.

"You certainly have the strongest influence on me, and I daresay you are the only one I allow myself to be affected by in the first place."

"Well, if I'm the only one, being the strongest is hardly an accomplishment. And I would be the strongest and the weakest at the same time, you know…"

"Will you just take a compliment when I accidentally give you one for once, you insufferable little creature?"

"I can try." Robin grinned at his half humoured and half feignedly annoyed tone. "Even though I technically wouldn't call 'insufferable little creature' a compliment."

"But I would." Snape returned, and his smirk didn't need to be seen to make its way straight to Robin's heart, making it soar. "You are indeed quite tiny, as well as considerably different from any average humanness, and you most definitely are insufferable."

"Thanks…" She snorted, then stifled another yawn and wondered for a moment what would happen if she just fell asleep right in this spot; she was hardly supporting her own weight anymore anyway. Chances were high he'd wake her right back up or she'd cause him trouble if he tried not to, which wouldn't be much of a gain in either direction, and thus she banned the idea into the back of her mind.

"It seems like that was quite a weak attempt at humour on my end, going by your response. My apologies."

"No, I'm sorry, it really was funny! I'm just too tired to appreciate it properly."

"I still stand by my suggestion that you should go to bed. Teaching is more exhausting than one would assume, especially if it involves watching fifty students at once."

"You're right… I know."

That seemed to be the cue for both of them to ever-reluctantly let go of each other in the same silent agreement as always, and for Robin to sigh softly in disappointment at the loss of his delectable warmth and comfort in return. Yet, she didn't let any of it seep into her expression as she went to pick up her backpack from the other table and only turned back to Snape when she halted at the door before letting herself out.

"I really am looking forward to tomorrow." She said once again even though she'd told him already, but she couldn't help it. The excitement was there and it was strong, and he deserved to know. "I miss dancing with you."

He gave her one of his rare smiles in return, a genuine one that wasn't teasing or humoured but simply content and perhaps just a little excited as well. "This time I would like to ask you to dance though, if you will let me."

"Well, then you simply will have to be faster than me, won't you?" Robin smirked at him, wiggling her eyebrows for a second, and then had to laugh at her own ridiculous silliness. It really was too late for her own good. "Goodnight, Severus."

"Until tomorrow." He replied, and when Robin stepped out into the hallway with a huge smile lingering on her face, she couldn't help but think that perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing that their plans for tomorrow had been changed. Maybe she would have to thank Sprout for being absent at some point.

______________________________

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[edasnest]

Fair enough my friend. In any case it probably won't be canon, (to me) because its too good to be true. Though at least its clear the Good Witch Azura is no mere book series and has a role to play. Anyway, allow me one headcanon ask!: How would Camila react to Willow and Amity and specially to know they are in a relationship with her Luz? And how would Amity and Willow feel about meeting Camila for the first time?

(This took me forever and I’m so sorry)

This one’s a lot lmao

Camila:

I think after Luz introduces them as her girlfriends Camila had to have a Conversation with Luz after the girls have gone home for the night. Like, she watches them interact in the time that she meets them but her Mom Alarms are ringing in her head. Two girlfriends???? 🤔 they all seem to get along fairly well (which is actually almost a little jarring to Camila; she’s used to kids Luz’s age thinking her “too weird��� to hang out with unless they had no other choice) and she sees these girls....actually look at Luz without judgement. In fact, they look at her with adoration, even when Luz starts acting “weird” in the way that would make other kids uncomfortable. These girls laugh at Luz’s antics, but in a kind way, a way that says they love the way she is.

Camila, as a nurse, didn’t exactly have “the Talk” with Luz so much as she just answered Luz’s questions as she grew up. When Luz was about four or five and asked where babies came from, Camila left out some details, but explained the scientific process to her on their drive home from kindergarten. Luz yelled about how yucky it was because “boys have cooties!!!” And didn’t bring it up again until she was maybe 10 and got her first period. It was then Camila went into more depth about the whole “baby making” process and the concept of intercourse in a strictly medical sense that made Luz super uncomfortable and hate everything about human biology. She wished so desperately to live in the world of her Azura books where Azura never got a period, she was too busy adventuring and saving the day.

So when Luz goes missing and then comes back with not just one, but two girlfriends?? That’s another layer of The Talk that Camila hasn’t gotten to yet. So after the girls go home, Camila sits Luz down at the kitchen table and starts asking her questions about Amity and Willow, just trying to get to know them from Luz’s perspective a little more and get a gauge on how their relationship started. Camila is relieved beyond all else that Luz goes on one of her patented Exciteable Babbling Sessions; absolutely cooing over how adorable her girlfriends are, how smart and brave and talented they are, how they were the first real friends (besides Gus) that she made on the Boiling Isles, the adventures they’ve gone through together, the wacky antics they got caught up in, etc.

Camila’s genuinely happy for Luz at this point, but she still has Mom Responsibilities. So she asks Luz if they done anything more...intimate. And Luz flushes bright red before vehemently denying the accusation and hiding in her hoodie out of embarrassment. Which is exactly the reaction Camila was hoping for, so she finally relaxes and laughs and coaxes Luz out of her hoodie to give her a hug, letting her know that as long those girls make Luz happy, Camila will be happy for her. AND as long as they make smart decisions and don’t do anything crossing that line until they’re older to which Luz just groans and buries her face in her mom’s shoulder, begging her to stop.

After all the introductions and reassurances are out of the way though, Camila finds that she loves Luz’s girlfriends. Luz was absolutely right; they’re both smart and talented and extremely bright young ladies that are both eager and exciteable like Luz, but have a grounding element in each of them that helps tether Luz and brings her back to earth when she starts getting carried away. Camila is amused at how curious they are about human devices too; Amity is especially taken with Camila’s meal prep without the use of any magic at all. Willow is in awe of the computer mostly; she’s certain it works similarly to a crystal ball, but she can’t figure out how it’s supposed to work without magic.

Willow and Amity:

Willow and Amity are scared shitless the first time they meet Camila.

Luz being able to go home to her mom has been a primary goal of hers ever since the portal was first destroyed. Ever since then, there have been countless times Luz has sought comfort from her friends and eventually her girlfriends. So when they were able to access a new portal, they were so scared about what that meant for the three of them. Luz insisted that she go back to the Human Realm; not forever, she’d never just abandon the life she made on the Boiling Isles, not unless she didn’t have a choice. But she needed to go back to her mother and see what she could do to convince her to let her come back to them. She promised it wasn’t a goodbye, it wasn’t a breakup, and it wasn’t the last time she’d see them. So Willow and Amity held Luz and cried and eventually let her go and they slept over at the Owl House that night (with Gus too, he was part of that See Ya Later party and made sure the girls stayed hydrated what with all their crying).

When Luz returned a few weeks later, in her school uniform and scaring her girlfriends half to death by sneaking up on them, they tackled her to the ground, hugging and crying and laughing in relief. She explained the deal she had with her mom and that she wanted to bring them all to the Human Realm to meet her (Camila had actually already been to the Demon Realm in this time; Luz gave her a grand tour of everything she knew about while also keeping their heads low so as to not draw attention. It’s in this time that Camila came to understand what the boiling isles meant to Luz, reaching an understanding with Eda, and telling Luz she needed to finish Human School too, but she could do so online. So now that Camila knows about and has accepted Luz’s life in the Boiling Isles, Luz wants her to meet all the amazing people she’s met).

So the following weekend, they planned a trip over to the Human Realm (Willow, Gus and Amity with Eda as the chaperone) where they all finally got to meet Camila for the first time.

To everyone’s relief, Luz opens the door first to welcome them inside. She leads them to the couch to sit down and her mom enters with a (probably overeager; she’s very nervous) hello and a tray with several glasses and a pitcher of batida de lechosa. She sets down the tray on the coffee table and introduces herself to the kids one by one and Amity has to summon her inner Blight Poise to make her voice not shake. Willow has to pretend this isn’t her girlfriend’s mom she’s introducing herself to. (Camila is secretly just as nervous as they are; she wants to make a good first impression on Luz’s friends.)

Once they start talking though, everyone manages to relax. The kids are all extremely enthusiastic about the batida de lechosa (and tell Camila as much) and Gus can barely contain his excitement and at some point just starts shooting rapidfire questions about human life.

Overall their visit goes well, although Willow and Amity are on edge the entire time, doing their best to be polite and gracious and answer Mrs. Noceda’s questions. They really want to make a good impression on Mrs. Noceda, but Luz’s constant flattery and talking up their accomplishments (*cough*bragging*cough*) leaves them both flustered and blushing.

When they return to the Demon Realm after that visit, they’re both lamenting about how nervous they were, how they must’ve fucked up since Mrs. Noceda seemed so reserved and on guard during their visit. Eda has to remind them that the existence of the Demon Realm is still p new to Camila which does ease some of their fears, but certainly not all of them.

Luz texts them later about the MORTIFYING conversation she’d just had with her mom about “intimacy” and “waiting til we’re older” and “consent is no laughing matter, Luz” and as embarrassed as Willow and Amity are at the implications, they’re both relieved that that is what made Mrs. Noceda act so stiff during their visit. Nothing to do with them being Witches or from another world, just a mom protecting her baby.

From that point on tho, they totally hit it off with Camila; Camila loves sharing Luz’s most embarrassing baby pictures (which Luz complains about but takes it in stride). The girls love discussing more of the nuanced aspects of Human Culture and are extremely interested in Camila’s job as a Healer Nurse. Camila loves watching the girls perform magic like it’s second nature to them and absolutely delights in the flowers Willow grows in pots that she never had the time or energy to take care of herself.

[werezmastarbucks]

amalfi

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 1751

They were probably going out of their minds with worry out there. Even Damon must have already started feeling guilty. God knows what that monster Kai Parker could do with you in the prison world, where he had no other thing to play with, but you.

The sea air was sweet and salty, warm, and your lungs were breathing slowly for you, as you took deep pockets of it through your nose. You knew you couldn’t get healthier even if you spent the whole time at Mar Tirreno. It was rather frustrating that all the time you spent in the sun, warming up and bathing in the lovely May rays, you wouldn’t change a bit because your whole organism was on the loop, too. 

You were going through the CDs again. There were very clear, understandable rules in this world: for instance, never run out of music. You couldn’t function without music. It soothed Kai well, and it made driving everywhere easier. He wasn’t joking when he said he wouldn’t get behind the wheel unless there was a dire need. For that, he cooked.

He cooked so well. All the dishes you didn’t know the names of, he was eager to show off his talent of many years of training. He made food so good you wondered how a heartless person is capable of putting so much soul into it. He even taught you how to cook something, which was a big achievement. 

“Trash. Trash. Trash”, you chanted to yourself, throwing them out of the window. It was such a satisfying feeling to throw something out of the window of a car, even when you weren’t moving. You had to remind yourself though, that, once you get out, it would be littering. Here, nobody gave a shit. The planet didn’t give a shit. It did not acknowledge your presence, it wasn’t aware of you two quietly moving around its surface. It was hybernating. 

Kai was pondering on something, standing on the edge of the cliff. The sights here were beyond words. All the way to the horizon line, the light turquoise sea was calm and looked like warm lemonade. The sky was matching color, and the bright green trees shuffled nonchalantly in the lightest breeze that filled your skin and lungs. 

You’ve been arguing a little, about this and that, adjusting. The Florence fiasco left you feeling a little helpless (Kai raided the local antique library and found a spell that supposedly was used earlier for escaping from places such as this one; you’ve tried it; it didn’t work. Apparently, Bennett blood was still needed), and he wasn’t very supportive. Kai grew lazy and delighted with life like a fat cat; he didn’t even pretend anymore to be stressed out about being here. He was playing his own game of wearing you out into sleeping with him. Ever since you got here, you haven’t even kissed a single time, the shock of change, and the fact of being locked away and all. There was a certain moment when you realized you’re unable to think about romance, because you’re hybernating, too. You were searching for the way out, and pushing Kai to do the same. Although he slept with you every night, and you got quite used to him lying next to you, the unmistakable comforting heat of his body lulling you into sleep, you felt like you wanted to freeze in that moment. You felt like you were restricted by something. 

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” you suddenly realized, and turned to him. Your mouth formed an O. “Oh my god, it’s your birthday every day”.

Kai looked at you with the same look he gave you every time he thought you were being slow. Given his hyperactivity, and his sharp psychopathic mind never resting a bitching second, anybody would seem a little slow to him.

“I’m an eternal birthday boy”, he confirmed, a little sleepily, “it’s high time you start treating me accordingly”.

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, starting the car. 

“You know it’s only us here, right? There’s no one to see you, or stop you, to judge you”, he said, cryptic as hell. The road was smooth, the asphalt glistened with heat, gliding car feeling its wheels like they were blades on ice. You went bananas and carjacked a 911 Carrera S for this place. This whole Italian vibe made you feel like you were incredibly rich. Life was sweet like shave ice with strawberry syrop soaking it through. You still waited for the other shoe to drop... looking at Kai, sometimes you thought, what if it never does? He’s crazy. His world is crazy. What if it’s not supposed to be bad here with him?

“I’m aware of that”, you replied.

“You don’t have to pretend”, Kai concluded, “you can admit whatever you feel for me. Sooner or later you’ll end up on my dick anyway. We like each other, it’s a fact”.

Your hands squeezed the wheel as you stared in front of you. Kai had a point. There was mutual attraction. 

There was mutual need, too.

“Maybe I do have to pretend”.

“What for?”

He tried to seem dispassionate, but you knew he was impatient. Kai Parker was a very impatient person. If he got to the car first, he’d always scream to make you move quicker. He knew there was no hurry whatsoever, but he hated to wait. He yelled at stoves. He cursed at traffic lights even though you obviously ignored them all. Just the sight of a red light pissed him off. 

Now, he had to be patient to get to the third base. He was somewhat cunning about it; his night embrace was a little more than just a cuddle. 

“We’re here less than a month. Who knows how long more it’s going to be? I mean, we can’t get bored at once, you know?”

Kaik blinked, processing.

“Right, princess. You want entertainment?”

You didn’t like the tone of that.

Perhaps the way he said it scared you enough to give you a nightmare.

You dreamt you walked down your street in Mystic Falls. It was so atypically dark your skin crawled. You didn’t hear them, but you could feel vampires were around you. They were not usual vampires, like Damon and Stefan - human, friendly, diverse and nice looking. They were monsters from 80s fantasy filled horrors, with long saliva dripping fangs, and, most importantly, demonic. An old feeling of supernatural presence, which startled you at night when Kai attempted to save you by killing you, once again made you freeze with horror. 

You walked faster, trying to get away, and praying for light. Not a single street light was on, you couldn’t even see it. The blackness was thick and absolute, and you knew you’d be attacked any second. Fear was physical in this one, stinging you, making it hard to move your feet. You tried running and stumbled upon something, falling on hard ground. Before you managed to get up, you felt somebody leaning over you, breathing down the back of your head. You were trapped. 

You woke up and stared into the darkness, expecting a painful bite. You’ve been bitten by vampires before. It was very painful, but you couldn’t imagine what it would feel like this time.

Trying to figure out where you are, just like always, you were afraid to move an inch not to produce a sound. Slowly, you moved your fingers, then your shoulders, and started feeling the weight of the blanket on you. You heard the sea. You exhaled through your nose and rolled on your back to see the empty bed. 

“Kai?” you whispered. You sat up and grouped, holding onto your knees. It’s always like that with nightmares; they go, and you stay in them. Brain knows the room is empty, but the mind is still captivated. You still expect them to jump out of the closet. And of all people, Kai Parker must be the one to save you. Why?

“Kai!” you called, irritated. Why the fuck, of all nights he pushes you almost off the bed with his invasive hugs, he’s not there exactly tonight, when you need human warmth to get your head straight. 

“KAI!”

The door opened slowly. He was standing in complete darkness, wide awake.

“What is it?”

You were silent for some time. Admitting your vulnerability to him would be about the last threshold. You’d have to completely love each other after this. You wouldn’t be able to let him go. It all now depended on how he’d react. 

“I had a nightmare”.

He walked towards the bed slowly, sat down and offered his shoulder. He always hugged you in this wide gesture, which he probably saw in a movie. It was a commercial dad hug, wide swing of an arm which then rested around your shoulder. The only times he felt humanly close was when he was clinging on you at night.

He settled on the pillows, bringing you close, and you finally let the air out with relief.

“You still get spooked?” he asked with surprise.

“Yes”.

“What was it about?”

“Vampires”.

He hummed. 

In this night calm, you were close enough to hear something beat in his chest. You asked yourself what curious chain of events made you end up together with this interesting individual. What comes out of it. 

His hand rested on your bare shoulder, fingers drawing uneven circles absently. He seemed a bit distant but he liked touching you. You could still smell your own perfume on his shirt from the day. You got that fragile desire to kiss him, to rub your face on his neck, to be close to him. 

“We’re really completely alone here”, you said.

“Yeah”.

“How did you know Bonnie and Damon came?”

“I felt it, I’m a witch after all”.

“How can you be sure there aren’t any beasts here? Something goes wrong, aliens slither into this dimension. Some chthonic monster. Some ancient spirits. Your own double, or demons. Or something”.

“It’s an empty place, Y/N, I just know it. I have been everywhere around, and I didn’t find anyone. I’d be happy to meet a chthonic monster even. But we are tremendously alone”.

At this moment the hug tightened because you brought him closer. 

“But I like it here with you”, he added, “it’s not that bad. People are boring anyway”.