#funny how all that matters or you remember some of this when its convenient FOR YOU

[megoomy]

got a request for my vesperia berseria au designs and i do have character sheets for them so: everyone is free to draw these if they want! credit is nice but, well, these all heavily reference official tales designs so i dont want to take too much credit for them lol. you can also write about the au and take any amount of what we've come up with, i really don't care, it's all for fun.

UNDER THE CUT: a vague summary of the concept. warning for Profound Self Indulgence and Somewhat Half-Assed Worldbuilding (world...changing? world editing? whatever)

okay basically flynn and yuri met as kids in a village that basically serves as the lower quarter of the au, but after spending a few years together daemons attack the village and nearly everyone dies. yuri survives, but in the process he’s become a daemon. flynn also survives, but is deeply traumatized and gets picked up by the exorcists (conveniently too late to save anyone in typical form). neither knows the other survived. to make matters worse, flynns trauma causes some memory loss…he still definitely remembers that time in the village but its very fuzzy now and as he gets older that only gets worse. and like he thinks all those people died so hes not really trying to remember them.

flynn becomes an exorcist (some flavor of legate) and is going around eradicating daemons when he runs into yuri. he doesnt recognize yuri but yuri is pretty sure he recognizes flynn. but yuri isnt about to say that when flynn is trying to kill him LOL. the general arc is that yuri keeps slipping away and flynn keeps seeing more about him in his efforts to hunt him down, realizing that this strikingly handsome strangely familiar daemon is actually...very kind? takes care of children? helps people for no gain? and this calls into question everything that he thought he understood about the world which is quite troubling.

you can think of them as similar to velvet and eleanor. but I think when flynn joins yuri it's by choice, not because yuri's forced him to be a vessel or because flynn's a spy or anything like that. or at least, he's been thrown out by the abbey for one reason or another and joins yuri instead. (we've tossed around quite a few versions of this. we love playing in the space.)

we've bounced around ideas about the rest of the cast but i only have a sheet for estelle, who is a malak controlled by the abbey ala phi. assigned to flynn, ends up with yuri one way or another. i think rita sees that malaks are people and while she wants to coordinate with them to use their strength she doesn't like how they're treated as tools (the way she feels about blastia more or less).

if you're curious about why flynn and yuri have different fates, like, in terms of lore compliance. i think yuri seeing the thing he holds most dear, the community that cared for him, destroyed in an instant, would probably fill him with malevolence no matter what, especially depending on the circumstances. (like, if the abbey was manipulating things to create daemons or therions) yuri's like...a deeply conflicted character full of self loathing, so, being a daemon really suits him. i think that malevolence would only grow as he sees the world and the abbey for what it really is. unlike someone like rose, yuri NEVER feels unconflicted about Doing Murders.

flynn in canon is pretty conflicted himself of course but i see him as similar to eleanor who can sometimes produce malevolence but has a certain purity of heart that keeps them as pretty good vessel material. nowhere near someone like sorey or rose, and definitely wouldn't have had enough resonance pre-artorius' plot to see anything. also i think the brain trauma and being picked up by the abbey leads to him having very clear purpose and a black and white view for some time, so that helps. (look, let me be real with you, half of the impetus for this au was "it would be funny if flynn had like, religious trauma")

design notes not on the sheets: - yuri's daemonblighted skin is cooler to the touch than his regular skin. but he's a guy with cold hands regardless - i've got purple highlights in his eyes but i think of them as glinting purple in the light. like an animal i guess? - yuri's outfit is mostly inspired by his spirit gear in rays, aside from his normal game canon outfit. - estelle is pulling from a lot of different abbey associated characters but mostly her own design...i didn't want to give her something weird like A FUCKING COLLAR especially bc she's not given to A WEIRDO EXORCIST but i wanted some kind of symbol of captivity so i went instead for a golden mask. pulling from the common malak's gold mask/helmets and seres' mask. in canon a lot of estelle's arc is about being sheltered so i feel like covering her eyes feels, appropriate? idk. - i think yuri still gives estelle her nickname but she wouldn't start out as estellise so its more like yuri gives her a name - you may notice she has the flame of purification (does that have a different proper name? blanking on it) which kind of implies that she's connected to innominat. please don't ask me to elaborate on that point because i literally don't know yet. i think if i were to make her a normal elementally aligned malak she'd be water like her spirit gear in rays, but it feels like she should be Special just like how she's a child of the full moon in canon. we just, haven't really figured out, does the berseria cast still exist, are we replacing them, what would that look like, etc. sorry that stuff should be more important to the concept but we are simply playing with the dolls. teehee

[factual-fantasy]

I has 30 asks! :}}

@chickenmilk120​

@cherrycreamfairy​

The only thing that mattered to me in that trailer was Mario saying “I’m not afraid, I’ll do anything for my brother.” Their brotherhood is the only thing giving me hope for this movie-

That, and the blue shelled koopa troopa’s are interesting..

@sqirtle​

The idea I had in mind is that they were magically transported to the Mario universe some how, where they ended up in the middle of a forest. They kind’a wandered for a while before finding the Mushroom kingdom. This was right after Peach was captured.

I was thinking that the toad people let them in to help them and later witnessed Mario using a fire flower. That’s when they knew these two were the hero's of legend and their quest began :0

Yes! They don’t have enough food to go around so they try to avoid waking anyone else up. That, and the fact that that Spy and Pyro don’t carry anything particularly useful to them. Nothing worth risking being seen by the camera at least.

In my AU at least, there is no Glamrock Ballora. Its just the main Glamrocks we’ve already seen. The original Ballora did exist though. :0

As for the tiger guy and mermaid gal? They are not in my AU either.. 

JSOKDFSLDFKMTHANK YOUUU

Not only would he not care and do it again, but he would attack Mario because he is in pain. He would take advantage of his vulnerability.

@bungerpogger​

The plans I had for Luigi is that he dies to a Goomba. BUT WAIT HANG ON- THAT’S NOT FUNNY- The Goomba’s in my AU are real monsters. Luigi gets bitten by one and his entire leg gets shredded. Then the venom from the Goomba slowly makes Luigi rot from the inside out.

He rapidly begins to deteriorate over the span of a few days. Eventually he looses all his strength and is just laying on his death bed.

Mario is holding his hand and keeps telling him he’s going to be fine. Everything's gonna be okay, Luigi’s going to get better everything will be fine-

Luigi’s hand goes limp.

...

And then he gets revived by the 1-UP he had absorbed a couple of days ago. All better! :D

@genericstudios​

Thank youuu!!! :DDD

I don’t take commissions or straight up “Hey draw this thing for me” stuff. Buuut, the other stuff sounds like it could be fun :}

@network-warrior-01​

I think if a little kid came in and didn’t mess with anything and was just scared and crying. I feel like King Boo would show mercy and have his Boos kind’a guide them back out of the forest. 

If its some bratty little kid well... I cant say he’d be patient with them.

@burgycreeper405-blog​

I’m on desktop. If you click this little doo-dad here?

And then this one?

You can put literally as many pictures as you want. Its never stopped me and said there was too many images. Same thing with the orange photo option. When I fill up the 10 slots I just click the little grey camera and keep adding more drawings-

Yeah I remember trolls. Never saw world tour but I always intended to- here’s to hoping trolls 3 turns out good!

@ajthekingtheking​

JSADNCTHANK YOUUUUAAAAAAA

I have! Such a bizarre game concept has no right to have such good animation and interesting (to me) character design-

XD My body is basically just grey and black goop. I can have as many arms as I want! I’ve just found having a 3rd arm to be rather convenient recently.

@crazy-scary-crazy​

Thank you for understanding <:} It means a lot that even if some people don’t get it, they can still see my perspective and respect my boundaries. 

@dongpuncher-666​

The 1-UP has to be consumed before dying. So it wouldn’t work if you just shoved it down their throats after they died-

Also it works instantaneously. It could be literally 5 seconds before they’re about to bleed out, as soon as the mushroom makes contact with them, their body absorbs it and its energy is fully prepared to be consumed.

Also thank you! I’m glad to hear you like my content! :DDD

I’m not familiar with that character, so I didn’t write him into the AU.. <:/

@caronaro-flipaclip​

OH MY GOSH I LOVE SPONGEBOB LITERALLY MY FAVORITE CHILDHOOD SHOW--

Bowser wants Peach’s land. Because it is healthy and fruitful. But he has never be able to take it because Daisy and Peach’s kingdoms stand together. Its 2 kingdoms against 1.

But somehow he managed to kidnap Peach. Not sure how he did it but this meant he had the upper hand. He threatened to harm or even kill Peach if they didn’t surrender their land to Bowser. 

Its right after this all starts that the Mario brothers show up and end up rescuing her.

Thank you! I’m glad you like my work! :DD But so far nah... I mostly just came back to goof around with the Octo-dads for a bit. Not much work being done on my Octonauts AUs...

When Foxy was reactivated he only went out of the basement for that first night. And Freddy guided him through blind spots in the cameras. 

After that first night Foxy never left the basement. Neither did Bonnie. So Vanessa never saw Foxy and doesn’t know they’ve both been reactivated.

@multifandom-traveler​

XD You can like what ever you want man! You’re never too old to enjoy your old comfort shows.

Also thank you! I’m glad you like it! :DD

aaaa thank you!!

Also its okay. Internets gonna internet. There’s always gonna be people who disrespect you for no reason. 🤷‍♂️

@livinwa​

snffle.... t-tnk u

Awe you’re too kind, Thank you!

I have not :0 I’ve heard good things about it though!

@dumbfishiesparadise​

Wow really? :0 That’s nuts!

@scrumpitouscollectorpuppy

Man, that’s an unfortunate way to find me. But its cool that you did! Also AAAA thank you!!! I’m glad you like my artwork!! :DD

[joz-yyh]

(Guess) What's In the Paper Bag

SUMMARY: Mashita brings the spirit doctor some much needed R&R. (Be advised, this story contains minor SPOILERS for Death Mark 2 up until chapter 5 of the game!) No Beta. Read at your own risk.

PAIRING: Mashita Satoru/Yashiki Kazuo

RATING: M (swearing/ sexual themes)

WORD COUNT: 2,976

READ ON Ao3: -> HERE!!

A/N: My first Death Mark fanfic, so please be gentle! I've been a fan of the games for a long time, but finally stepping out of the shadows to create something for it~ Please consider leaving a kudos if you enjoyed! ^v^/

▪️ Have a look at my Mashita art ➜ Here!

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The infirmary is where he spends most of his time these days, when he's not out chasing spirits, the only place that still feels safe, its bland nondescript walls becoming an all too familiar reprieve.

As the Departed grows stronger, his allies dwindle, the stakes growing exponentially higher. No matter how badly his friend's may want to help him, Yashiki can't stomach the thought of losing a single one. He won't allow their souls to be condemned, chain linked into a horrible fate because he failed to protect them from a vengeful spirit's appetite.

Better they remain absent. At least that meant they were alive.

It is no wonder he's alone then, sat at the steel desk in the corner, toiling over his notes, trying to make sense of the missing pieces.

The empath swivels at the sound of the sliding door being shoved open, not expecting company, greeted with the cat-like eyes of a green-coated authority figure.

A relief spreads throughout the spirit doctor, thin lips curling in a smile at his partner's sudden appearance. Even in hopeless, tight spots like this, Yashiki can always rely on him.

“Mashita,” he breathes, more than happy to see his handsome face.

In his own way, the foul-mouthed gumshoe returns the sentiment, sporting a devilish grin.

“Got time for a coffee break,” the suited detective offers, walking up to him, holding out a styrofoam cup.

Yashiki folds his hands in gratitude, accepting this glimmer of salvation, admiration reflected in his tired eyes.

Rather than use a chair, Mashita hooks a leg onto the edge of the desk his partner is occupying, leaning his weight atop it, watching on as the kujou family head takes a temperate sip.

“Hope you don't mind. It's black.”

His timing is expertly calculated, Yashiki holding the liquid inside his mouth, not wanting to spit it out, but also holding his breath so that he won't taste the bitterness.

The mischievous cop laughs, the other male acting as though he's been betrayed, glass spectacles making the kicked puppy dog look all the more convincing.

“Chill man, it was a joke. I remembered to sweeten it for you.”

Upon hearing this, Yashiki remembers how to breathe again, swallowing down the caffeine with a heavy gulp.

“You're lucky the convenience stores don't charge for that shit or else I'd be broke by now.”

Yashiki thinks unsweetened decaffeinated coffee is a desecration of its holy sanctity, but Mashita sees it the other way round, preferring his without all the added sucralose.

The taller man takes another long sip, the lines under his eyes seemingly less haunted after doing so, a fountain of youth and energy returning to his skin.

Mashita smirks at the change. Funny how a fellow middle aged man needed help taking care of himself, but the detective doesn't mind babysitting too much.

“Donut,” he asks, pulling out a wrapped one from his pocket, chocolate glaze drizzled overtop golden perfection.

He swears, Yashiki's voracious eyes snap towards him even more earnest than before, practically salivating at the mouth, though you'd never guess he was a chocoholic by the calm and neutral tone he uses.

“Sure. Thanks, Mashita.”

With that, he takes the proffered treat, bites into it almost as ravenously as the Departed.

It paid to be a cop sometimes. Forgive the stereotype, but if nothing else, he could provide Yashiki with an endless supply of coffee and confections.

“Where's yours,” the kujou head asks, words muffled, inhaling more pastry.

It takes the detective a moment to realize what Yashiki is really asking is if he's eaten properly himself.

“Don't worry, I already had mine.”

Yashiki accepts this as truth, returning to nibble away at what remains of his donut, the gray-eyed sleuth nursing at his own coffee in the meantime.

He waits until a famished Yashiki is sucking the flakes of sugar from his fingers before moving onto his next question.

“You still have my gun, right?”

The longer haired male clenches his teeth, as if suddenly swallowing something horribly unpalatable.

“Yeah,” Yashiki admits, turning gloomy, “But do you think I really need it? Guns don't usually work on spirits.”

“Maybe not, but I feel better knowing you have it. Plus, there are some pretty nasty humans out there. Just ask Kokkuri.”

Yashiki sighs, having no other choice, but to go along with his plans. “If you say so.”

The room turns silent, Yashiki adopting more of his usual haggard state despite all the effort Mashita was putting in to cheer him up.

“You look tense,” the police detective observes, setting down his drink on the meeting table, slipping off his perch, “let me take care of that for you.”

Yashiki is so adorably naive as Mashita sneaks behind the stool, wedges himself between the spirit doctor and his studious profiling.

Firm hands rub along his neck, the slope of his shoulders, warmth and comfort in every twist of his fingers.

It takes some coaxing, but the bifoculed man let's him slide off the collar of his trenchcoat, Mashita able to massage at his partner's sore muscles more effectively with less layers in the way.

Yashiki hums in his throat, eyes slipping shut, relaxing into his touch, rolling his head back and moaning his approval.

“Been too long, huh,” the detective teases, cracking a smile as such a delicious reaction.

“Mashita,” the spirit doctor gasps, brows and teeth clenched in pain, the man kneading over a particularly tender spot.

“Got it,” his partner says, easing up his technique, working over the stubborn knot until it becomes smooth again.

Yashiki missed this, more than he thought he would. He'd forgotten what it was like, having someone he didn't feel guilty about indulging in soothing his worries away. He settles against the hard body positioned at his back, head feeling cumbersome, laying it to rest against one of Mashita’s long-sleeved arms.

He doesn't know how he survived all those weeks without him, the ex-police detective absorbed in his own grimy casework just as Yashiki had tied up the secrets of the Kujou mansion.

“The Departed is obsessed with you, right?”

Yashiki wonders why the malicious entity is suddenly being brought up, but nods subtly in acknowledgement.

“Do you think they're watching now?”

Just what was he getting at? Why this train of thought? Where was it headed?

Regardless of his motives, there would be no point in lying. Mashita would see right through it.

“Don't know,��� Yashiki answers honestly, “I can usually sense when they're near, but the infirmary seems to be a safe haven. At least it did, up until this last case.”

Mashita's hands are on either side of his neck, resting gently beneath the cut of scruff at his chin, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “Won't they be mad when they find out?”

The implications are purposefully vague, but Yashiki deciphers it, one of the few that would be able to.

“We shouldn't provoke it,” the long haired man cautions, grasping for logic through the haze of yearning, “more people could get hurt.”

“Or maybe, the competition will do it some good.”

Yashiki recalls the Departed words, threats made to Ai, Shou and all the rest flashing through his mind in glaring red text.

“It usually targets those who are close to me. You would be the Departed's next prime rib.”

The cocky gumshoe laughs, “Tell ‘em to bring it on.”

He guides the spirit doctor's head back, stealing a kiss, soft and exploratory, relearning the curves of his lips, a new sensation for his memory to treasure.

For as much of a fight as he’s tried to put up (which coincidentally isn't much of one), the spirit doctor melts, pulling the other close, digging nails into short strands of choppy black hair.

“We should wait til after we close the case. It would be safer,” Yashiki reasons, parting them with a wet smack.

Mashita was just the type to jump right into another dangerous situation, even if he didn't have a full scope on the matter, having fallen prey to the supernatural before. But who knows if both of them would survive that long, if they would get another chance like this again, a rational mind making sense of reckless actions.

“Not sure this can wait,” Mashita says, dragging a hand along his lover's chest, eyeing the strain of his erection.

Yashiki chokes on a gasp, hips jerking up into his touch.

“Good to see you've missed me too,” he breathes, clutching at Yashiki’s pecs through the fabric of his shirt.

The look Yashiki is giving him, such wanton need and surrender, begging to forget reality in exchange for a few moments of bliss.

The detective plays with the obscured peak of his nipple, liking the effect it has, the man squirming in his seat, arousal twitching in his pants, looking for freedom of its restraints.

Feeling as though he’s tortured him enough, Mashita slides his hands down, molding it around the egocentric bulge, his friend stifling a moan. Yashiki is burning up, hiding his face inside his partner's jacket, huffing and shaking, a testament to how turned on he is.

“C’mon, you need to help me with this,” Mashita teases, tugging at the zipper to the Kujou's pants, needing to be careful in peeling it off him, needy as he is.

“Your sleeve will get dirty,” Yashiki weakly protests, always looking out for his companions' well being.

They're not exactly in a private space. This was still a school after all. Anyone could walk in and realize what they're doing in an instant, but it was late, the curtains drawn, most of their clothes still on. It should be fine. They’ll be quick.

“S'alright, I'll just roll it up,” Mashita chuckles, pulling away to do just that.

Yashiki takes the opportunity to unbutton his fly, fumbling and impatient, catching his erection on one of the metal sprigs, but he hardly cares. It’s only a few seconds, but he can’t wait for Mashita to return, instead taking his weeping erection in hand, stroking himself in desperation.

“Hey, that’s my job,” the police officer chides, a pale hand molding over his, stopping his pursuits, insisting to take over for him. The spirit doctor relents, giving up control, letting the other man squeeze him, inexplicably tight.

Mashita marvels at how hard he is, how wet.

“God Yashiki, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

The bifoculed man simply groans, words too hard to articulate, bucking into his partner’s stern grip, pleading with him to move.

A part of Mashita wants to draw this out, level such juvenile, harebrained passion into something more long lasting and ripe, but how can he, when Yashiki wants him this much?

With this thought in mind, the detective mimics his friend's breakneck pace, indulges the spirit doctor’s desires with swift, repetitive pumps, the swollen head pink and round like ichigo daifuku.

Yashiki’s nails return to scratch at his skin, leaving marks, grasping for purchase, muscles going taunt, signaling the rapid approach of his peak.

“Nnn, Ma … Mashita,” Yaskihi’s cries, legs flinching, rippling with aftershocks.

Cum spurts from his gaping slit, gushing in heavy clumps over the policeman’s meticulous fingers, the dark-haired medium heaving to catch his breath, fingers flexing around whatever material is within his reach.

Mashita feels chills crawl up his spine, goosebumps spreading across his skin, heat in his cheeks. Shit, this has gotten him riled up too.

He attempts to slide his soiled hand down Yashiki’s shaft, the man spasming from how sore the abrasive treatment has left him until the detective finally lets go, guiding his hand up to his lips, disposing of the evidence with his tongue.

“Hey Yashiki,” he drawls, mulling over the flavor, “you taste like sour plum sake.”

The empath can’t help laughing at such absurd comments, already feeling much better despite how depraved he must look.

If only Sakimoto could see him now, legs parted open before a man’s caress, perhaps she would be relieved to see his true inclinations, though, this wasn’t a good look for a teacher, participating in lewd activities after hours, on school grounds.

Mashita finds a box of tissues nearby, cleans what remains of the sticky substance on his hand, before tossing it in the waste bin. Similarly, he offers the same courtesy to Yashiki, the older male taking a tissue of his own, tidying himself up as well.

Mission accomplished, the detective turns towards the exit, about to head out.

“Wait, what about you,” Yashiki says, reaching out to grasp at the younger man's belt buckle.

The cop dodges his hand, taking a step back, only his jacket tails grazing the pads of his slender fingers.

“I'll take care of it later,” he growls, practically feral, “I was just trying to help you relax. You’re always too stressed out.”

Yashiki seems unsatisfied with that, tucking himself back inside his trousers, zipping them closed before rising from his chair.

“No way. Come here,” the lecherous teacher asserts, yanking the shorter male to him, reeling him in by his striped necktie.

“H-hey–!”

Mashita is unbalanced, suddenly reminded of how much taller the bearded man is, Yashiki pulling him in for a kiss that is so sweet it makes his teeth ache.

He wasn't expecting anything in return, really he wasn’t, but it's just like Yashiki to give back, to put more effort in than what he receives. Mashita can’t deny he wants this too, but after all the laborious trouble he put in to give the spirit medium a break, he’s going to go and exhaust himself again if he allows their debauchery to continue.

“Satoru…” the detective stutters, losing his cool, “... hey, this is bad. Don't push yourself so much.”

Yashiki doesn't hear him, he's too absorbed in assaulting his mouth, giving it his all. Mashita’s completely weak to his lover’s tongue, adding his own, letting an amorous Yashiki assume control while he struggles to keep up.

The detective can't keep his footing, the older male steering him around by the lapels, backing him into the medical supply cabinet, pinning him flat against it.

“Fuck,” Mashita snarls, listening to the contents of the cabinet clatter around inside, “why you gotta be so … so damn persistent.”

For a creepy bastard, he looks too sexy and too confident, a dark gaze boring holes into his, so deep and fathomless like licorice candy.

“It's your spirit power,” Yashiki pants, raking hungry eyes over him, “I felt it pulse just now.”

“Really,” Mashita taunts, raising a fine brow, “My spirit is telling you to do all this?”

It was common knowledge that Mashita was more of the dexterous type, offering both insight and strength, his spiritual prowess wimpy by comparison, practically non-existent. The dabbling of the occult and sensitivity to spiritual attunement was more of Yashiki’s expertise, though he doubts his own measly affinity could cast such a lustful charm over one with his partner’s ancestry.

“Hmm,” Yashiki affirms, leaving off his grip, hands slipping down his lover’s coat, knees hitting the floor and it’s pretty obvious what he intends to do from there.

“Not just yours. Mine too,” Yashiki hums, embarrassment made evident only by the blush on his cheeks, nosing around the ex-cop’s concealed erection.

Mashita looks away, closing his eyes as his fingers slip across the sleek glass behind his back, feeling weak and powerless to the Kujou's seduction.

With a smug little, “hm,” the spirit doctor smiles against his crotch, glad his partner has finally decided to cooperate, fingers gliding down his trousers to undo his zipper.

When the spirit hunter pulls him out of his pants, the detective gasps, bowing forward, biting his lip to keep quiet. One hand grips him around the base, the other around his trembling thigh, a hot tongue coming to lave against his aching tip.

Yashiki is too eager, and Mashita can’t hold back his stifled sobs, tears welling in his eyes because it feels too good. The ex-cop tugs at his partner's ebony locks of hair, shaking with want while his partner seems completely at ease, immune.

“Ah, damn, that mouth of yours, hate how good it is,” Mashita huffs, cynical, as he bangs his head against the cabinet for some clarity, “No wonder all these spirits want a piece of you.”

Yashiki responds by continuing his salacious torment, taking his sweet time, completely ironic with how much of a hurry he was in for Mashita to jerk him off earlier. The spirit doctor removes his hand, relocating it to Mashita’s other thigh, clinging to his pant legs, taking more of him into his mouth, licking him down, into his throat.

“You’re mine though, don't forget that,” the younger of the two grumbles, watching as his length disappears inside a thin pair of lithe lips, his partner sucking his cock like it’s the most demure act ever known to man.

He hasn’t necessarily been neglecting his own needs, he pleasures himself every now and then, but this scandalous teacher has him cumming in minutes regardless of his personal maintenance.

“Ahh, dammit,” he moans, head knocking against the cabinet doors again, “Yashiki.”

The occultist is drinking him down, hot tongue guiding his release along the underside of his length with a string of long, languid licks. Mashita swears he blacks out for a few seconds, Yashiki already standing while the detective is still recovering, never seeming to catch his breath or his balance.

Somehow, they’ve managed a 180, a complete reversal of their physical and mental conditions of when he first arrived, Mashita feeling ragged and sapped, while the other seems a spry buddah of calm.

As he watches Yashiki rearrange his clothes, dress them both back up properly, Mashita can’t shake the nagging thought that his partner might be a lethal incubus in disguise.

[30fishmen]

Unknown / Nth analysis

My post got some notes so now you must all read my Hozier lecture. You have no choice.

SOME DISCLAIMERS: I am currently in the process of reading Dante’s The Inferno so most of the information about it is pulled from the internet/prior knowledge that might be completely wrong. Feel free to correct me/add to the post with more information that I left out because I am sure I will leave out something. Also, most of this is my own personal feelings on the matter, art is subjective!! And if you disagree, I would love to hear it, discussion is what makes art and music and fandom fun. With that, onto the lecture.

BACKGROUND: As Hozier himself says in this interview, the song is about Treachery, the ninth circle of hell as Dante describes it in his Inferno. It depicts feelings of betrayal, loneliness, and longing as told from the perspective of God freshly betrayed by the one he most trusted, Lucifer. This is where most of the imagery in the song comes from. (I think that is super cool). I’m also gonna talk about my own interpretation of the song from when I first listened to it, since even without the background knowledge it’s such a powerful song. For convenience, the person singing the song is gonna be called “the speaker” and the person they’re singing to is gonna be called “the betrayer.”

You know the distance never made a difference to me – right off the bat Hozier is crushing our souls. This first line establishes so much love and longing its almost painful- feelings that have persevered despite past obstacles and will continue to persevere for the foreseeable future. The speaker has been separated from the betrayer before (past tense MADE implies this is not a new struggle to them), and the betrayer knows that.

I swam a lake of fire, I’d have walked across the floor of any sea – again, the speaker is proving their devotion by professing the things they have done, and what they are willing to do in the future (I SWAM a lake of fire, I’D HAVE WALKED across the floor of any sea; past tense to future). What I realized after Hozier talked about the inspiration for the song is: this line is referencing how Lucifer got into hell. The “lake of fire” refers to the punishment/imprisonment he received for his betrayal and what he has already endured by being separated from God, the literal and metaphorical hell that he had to go through in order to be in the position he is in. The “floor of any sea” refers to the frozen ocean he is trapped in, the one he is constantly trying to escape. God created this prison, and yet he would have been willing to traverse it.

Ignore the vastness between all that can be seen/and all that we believe/so I thought you were like an angel to me – This line is talking about the reality of the situation versus the image the speaker has in their mind of the betrayer. If they ignore what is actually happening (all that can be seen), they can still remember the betrayer as an angel (all that we believe). Incorporating the divine a little bit, this line could also be talking about the distance between heaven, the mortal realm/earth, and hell.

Funny how true colors shine in darkness and in secrecy – Pretty straightforward as far as the verses in this song go; a slightly ironic tone that acknowledges a betrayer’s tendency to never fully reveal themselves until it’s too late.

If there were scarlet flags, they washed out in the mind of me – Though again ironic and slightly self-deprecating, the message is heart-wrenchingly simple. The speaker loved the betrayer so much they couldn’t see the warning signs of their deceit/ chose to ignore it in favor of looking at all of their goodness. This line begins a phenomenon that I like to call “the Humanization of God.” God is supposed to be all knowing/all-powerful/whatever else you attribute him with. Yet he didn’t see the warning signs of betrayal from his closest friend, something painfully human.

Where a blinding light shone on you every night/and either side of my sleep/where you were held frozen like an angel to me – The “blinding light” this is referring to could mean three things (or all of those things at the same time): 1)it represents a pedestal/spotlight that the betrayer was put upon by the speaker, which is why red flags were so easily ignored. The speaker looked up to the betrayer so much they couldn’t fathom them possibly being anything other than perfect. OR 2) In the third installment of the Divine Comedy, Dante is enveloped by a “blinding light” that raises him up to heaven and allows him to see God. Therefore, the blinding light could reference the divinity Lucifer held before his betrayal, something that God thought would mean he was stuck as (FROZEN, even) an angel, and therefore unable to betray him. OR 3) this verse is talking about Lucifer after he’s already been trapped in hell, with the “blinding light” being the surface he’s trying to escape to. This interpretation would be especially sad because of the line “you were held frozen like an angel to me”, implying that even after his betrayal, God still sees Lucifer as an angel, not as a sinner or a demon. Even without the biblical context, the speaker still holds good memories of the betrayer after all is said and done, choosing to remember them as an “angel” rather than reflect on their horrible acts.

CHORUS TIME- there’s a quote that I always think about when I listen to this chorus: “To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God.”

 It ain’t the being alone/It ain’t the empty home baby/You know I’m good on my own -  the speaker has very clearly been alone before, which is sad because it implies that the betrayer is the one who alleviated this loneliness, providing company where there previously was none. Now that they’re gone, they’re back to being alone. Also the implication that the speaker confided in the betrayer about this past loneliness (YOU know I’m good on my own) makes their abandonment so much more heartbreaking.

Sha-la-la, baby, you know, it’s more the being unknown – Something new to the speaker, though, is the feeling of being unknown. God has always been placed on a pedestal, with no one to keep him company except his angels. Lucifer was the first angel, known as the angel of Light, and was someone God trusted and confided in. God thought he knew Lucifer, just as Lucifer knew him, and now with his closest friend gone, he must return to that lonely position of power, unknown to any other angel or worshipper as anyone other than God- distant, all powerful, unapproachable God. And maybe this betrayal is what forced God up into heaven in the first place, doomed to never again be known as he was by Lucifer. In a way, that’s almost exactly like the punishment he’s given to his betrayer.

So much of the living, love, is the being unknown – This line reads surprisingly hopeful to me. It’s an acknowledgement of the situation, sort of saying “oh well, that’s life” to the most famous betrayal of all time. The most important part about this line is the tone; there’s no bitterness, no resentment of the circumstances or the people that have led them to this situation.

You called me angel for the first time, my heart leapt from me – This line is talking about the first time the betrayer and the speaker met, and how that interaction affected the speaker. It also speaks to how much one person can be changed by another’s affection. As soon as the speaker was called angel, their heart was no longer their own, trusted entirely to the betrayer to use as they will. It also seems the decision was at least a little bit unwilling on the speaker’s part (the phrase “leapt FROM ME” implies unwillingness; the speaker didn’t GIVE their heart away, it jumped from their grasp). Point is, the speaker was definitely in denial about how close they were to the betrayer. Another instance of humanizing God in the context of the story, for though he is often depicted as loving, you never really think of him as having a heart to be broken or to be given away to his most trusted.

You smile now, I can see its pieces still stuck in your teeth – the imagery in this line is insane; the speaker’s heart was literally chewed up and spit out by the betrayer by their act. The fact that literal scraps are seen in a SMILE shows the betrayer still deceiving, trying to placate/make friends with the speaker even as their heart is in literal pieces because of their mouth. This is also another reference to the Inferno- Lucifer is described as a three-headed demon, with each of his mouths chewing on the bible’s/history’s greatest betrayers: Brutus, Longinus, and Judas. Brutus and Longinus are being punished for their role in Julius Caesar’s assassination by being stuck feet-first in Lucifer’s mouth. Judas receives the worst punishment of the three; his head is being chewed on while his back gets scraped up by Lucifer’s claws.

And what’s left of it, I listen to it tick/every tedious beat/going unknown as any angel to me – This. Line. Oh my god. Even in the teeth of their betrayer, torn to shreds, the speaker’s heart is still beating and alive, just as their love for the betrayer is. And after thinking it over (“listening to their heart”), they realize that maybe they don’t know their own heart as well as they thought. Because what heart would love a betrayer? (A HUMAN ONE, PROBABLY. HUMANIZATION OF GOD.) Also, the use of angel, not as a term of endearment as it was previously, but in reference to a group (unknown as ANY angel, rather than MY angel or THE angel) indicates both God’s realization that he didn’t know Lucifer as well as he thought and a resolution to never trust or hold another angel as close ever again.

AND NOW FOR MY FAVORITE PART!!!!!!!! BY FAR THE BEST PART OF THE WHOLE SONG IN MY OPINION. Setting aside the lyrics and the meaning of the song, just the pure power of Hozier’s voice in this section gets me every time. So much of a change from the easygoing guitar that’s made up the rest of the song- there’s like a heavenly chorus behind him, he’s singing at the top of his lungs louder and higher than any other part, it’s just so…. I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s so good.

Do you know I could break beneath the weight?/Of the goodness, love, I still carry for you – Personally, I think the “goodness” that is being described here is the speaker’s hope that the betrayer is still a good person, deep down inside. It’s a hope that is futile and slowly “breaking” the speaker, because the deed has already been done, yet the speaker still carries it. In addition to that, I like to think that the responsibility of heaven was shared between God and Lucifer before his betrayal, and now without him, God is forced to carry the weight and pressure of being the divine creator of the universe all alone.

That I’d walk so far just to take/The injury of finally knowing you – Referencing the line earlier in song (I’d have walked across the floor of any sea) and again stressing the lengths the speaker is willing to go for the betrayer. The best part about this line is, again, the acknowledgement of pain by the speaker. They specifically say “the INJURY of finally knowing you”, meaning that fully, truly knowing the betrayer as they want to would cause lasting harm. Also, the realization that, as things currently stand, the speaker DOESN’T know the betrayer (hence the use of the word finally, implying future), and to know them completely would mean to know the reasons WHY they betrayed the speaker, which would certainly cause “injury.” Yet the speaker DOESN’T CARE. They don’t CARE how hurt they are by the betrayer, how much it WILL HURT in the future, they just want to be with them and if that isn’t the saddest thing-

The closing chorus is mostly the same as it was before (it ain’t the being alone/it ain’t the empty home baby/you know I’m good on my own/sha-la-la, baby, you know, it’s more the being unknown) except for the final line.

And there are some people, love, who are better unknown – my initial reaction to this line was that it sounded surprisingly hopeful considering the rest of the song, much like the line in the first appearance of the chorus. I took it to mean that the speaker accepted the fact that the betrayer was bad for them, and maybe it’s better off that they don’t know them. But looking back at all the analysis about how far the speaker would go, all the injury they are willing to put themselves through, that just doesn’t make much sense (Plus the fact that the speaker still says “love”). No, that wouldn’t be the Hozier way. Instead, I think this line is the speaker blaming themselves. Saying that THEY are the ones who are better unknown, because they’ve tried the whole love and trust thing and look how that turned out. Consider the character of the speaker that’s been built throughout the entire song: someone who gone through hell and is still willing to go farther for someone who clearly won’t do the same, someone who ignored red flags in favor of focusing on the good, someone who trusted their heart to a person who chewed it up without a second thought. This is definitely a person to take betrayal personally, to turn on and blame themselves rather than get angry at the betrayer, the actual person at fault. The rest of the chorus and previous analysis supports this too (speaker is ok with being alone/on their own, but they are NOT ok with being unknown. So, to inflict that on themselves is a fitting punishment). Also, the speaker being the self-blaming person they are, this line could be read as sort of an apology; if they hadn’t let themselves be known, let themselves open up to the betrayer, maybe neither of them would be hurting this much in the first place. It might’ve been better if the speaker had STAYED unknown and alone as they were before knowing the betrayer.

This whole analysis is a cumulation of all the thoughts that have been fermenting in my brain for the past month, so if it’s a bit nonsensical I do apologize. Also, huge shoutout to my friend for listening to my insane ramblings and also helping me edit this, she doesn’t have a tumblr but I appreciate her immensely.

That’s all I got for now, if this gets some traction maybe I’ll post my thoughts about some other Hozier songs (because holy shit are his songs amazing). If you got this far down thank you so much for reading! It feels really good to put all the words down and actually organize them, and knowing that there are people who actually want to read it is so cool.

people who asked to be tagged: @freddykicksasses @allegedlyunmagical @iwillgotoheavenforyou

[ceo-of-sloppy-men]

I think I’ve said it before but the chantry is LITERALLY THE SOURCE OF SO MANY FUCKING PROBLEMS.

Like I know I did a haha funny darkspawn rant a few days ago but FUCK THE CHANTRY. Let’s review:

Mage circles: literally only perpetuate the paranoia of all mages being blood mages at some point, and condoning abuse of mages by templars (and sometimes other mages)

A dishonourable mention to the giant mage prison circle

It’s almost like putting all mages in a tower together and telling them they’re horrible creatures only meant to “serve man” like weird little pieces of technology or slaves that can just be used and discarded doesn’t do anything but push mages towards blood magic, which perpetuates the whole thing

Don’t even get me started on phylacteries - which is actual blood magic being used to track down mages trying to escape their abuse

Not to mention mages aren’t allowed relationships or to have children (shoutout to that guy in Redcliffe who just wanted a family and to grow crops). Which just is terrible when you also remember most magic is genetic (one of Dorian’s lines when talking about Tevinter).

As stated by Cullen “some templars are promised to the order at birth” which only serves to perpetuate the indoctrination that mages are dangerous and bad and evil blood mages

Templars taking lyrium when it’s known to be horribly addictive and you go mad breaking said addiction only serves to keep people in the order, and when/if they leave, no one will believe them about what they’ve been through or seen because “they’re a mad Templar seeking their next lyrium hit”

Like seriously the chantry caused the biggest drug problem in all of Thedas

When a circle does collapse and templars (and mages) get traumatized, absolutely nothing is done to rehabilitate them. The trauma is not addressed despite how dangerous blood mages are stated to be, because mental health isn’t a concern to the chantry.

The stigmatism of Tevinter only perpetuated by the whole “Tevinter killed the makers bride”. I’m not saying Tevinter is good, however they are blatantly saying that the country where mages are treated like people is “bad”. (The fact it’s part of the slave trade is bad and tevinter needs reformation, however, its oddly convenient that the place with free mages is constantly used as a bad example). Not apologizing for Tevinter tho that shit sucks.

The moment there are free mages or a mage uprising the Chantry already has rumours of an exalted March. Like mages are rabid dogs to be put down.

Tranquil. “Oh this mage is too powerful because we gave them all the resources they need to become powerful and now we’re worried about them rising up and realizing that magic doesn’t need to serve man?” Let’s take away their personality, memories, magic, and everything that makes them a person and reduce them to nothing but a tool we can use to make more enchanted stuff. It doesn’t matter they’re a real person with emotions and stuff rn that won’t matter once we make it alllllll go away.

*cough cough sounds like conversion therapy cough cough*

Also, when has “violently ripping children from their parents at young ages” ever been good for the development of said child?

In short, I hate the chantry for the stigmatization it gave mages and the way it condoned abuse in circles and forced drugs down peoples throats.

It’s also 2:30am so if I’m wrong or forgetting something my apologies.

[dmwrites]

Keralis and xB were in trouble. Big trouble. So, okay, maybe, just maybe, they had been hanging out around spawn last night, and maybe they had caught sight of that ridiculously large statue of King Ren, and maybe they’d put a huge black mustache on it. Maybe.

“To be fair, it is very funny looking.” xB said, voice a little high from laughing. They’d forgotten all about the statue until they’d walked outside Keralis’ house the following morning.

“Oh, Princess, how you enable me so! That’s my logging partner! All of the drama of Ren the Dog will come down on us!” Keralis wiped his eyes with his sleeve, trying not to start giggling again.

“Forget logging partners, he’s literally the king!” xB sighed, leaning against Keralis for support. “We’re gonna get thrown in the stockade for this!”

“HEY! What are you two laughing about, huh?” Bdubs suddenly hurtled out of the air and crash landed in front of the two. He scrambled to his feet and pointed an accusatory finger at them, a wild look in his eyes.

“Oh Bubbles! Aren’t you looking wonderful this morning!” Keralis sighed, holding out his hands to behold the angry little man.

“Yeah, can’t two bros just enjoy a little giggle outside?” xB asked, trying to control his smile.

“NOT WHEN THE KING’S STATUE HAS BEEN DEFILED!” Bdubs shouted, pointing at Ren’s statue. “Someone, or some people, have put a mustache on the face of the king’s statue, and that is a crime! And you two just happen to be conveniently standing nearby and laughing in its general direction!” Bdubs puffed out his chest and glared at them.

“That doesn’t mean it was us!” xB argued back. “Maybe we just saw it when we walked out here this morning and that’s why we’re laughing!”

“We love our wonderful sweet Ren!” Keralis told Bdubs, hand to his heart. “Why would we do such a thing? You think we are criminals, Bubbles? I cry!”

“Don’t try to gaslight me! I have the footage from the security cameras of you two idiots climbing up the statue last night!” Bdubs pulled out a thumb drive and thrust it at them, triumphant. Keralis and xB went silent, looking at the flash drive, then each other, grimacing. “AHA! You two thought you committed the perfect crime! But I have outsmarted you, and the king will learn of your disobedience!”

“Well now, I don’t know about all of that.” xB hummed, elbowing Keralis.

“What, here, now?” Keralis whispered back.

“Do you feel like getting in trouble?” xB asked with a shrug.

“What kind of stupid scheme are you two trying now! You’ve been caught!” Bdubs reached for his communicator, maybe to contact the king.

“Oh, I suppose.” Keralis sighed. “Hey hey hey Bubbles! Look into my eyes, nothing but my eyes.” Keralis smiled warmly, putting a hand on Bdubs’ shoulder.

“Into your eyes?” Bdubs asked, looking at Keralis with confusion.

“Yeah man, if I were you I’d look into his eyes, nothing but. Hehe I said butt!” xB giggled a little too long considering the joke but it didn’t matter. Bdubs had looked into Keralis’ wide eyes, and had gone still, mouth open slightly.

“Right, Bubbles.” Keralis spoke strongly, with an echo in his voice that would have sounded strange if xB hadn’t heard it many times before. “You are listening well, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Bdubs’ voice was airy, but flat. His eyes were unfocused.

“Good, good. Now… Princess, what do we want him to do exactly?” Keralis asked, not taking his eyes away from Bdubs for a second.

“Hmm…” xB considered this. “Have him throw away the flash drive and blame the mustache on himself. Kinda funny.”

“Oh Princess, how mean!” Keralis said. “Okay, Bubbles, do this for us, hmm? I want you to throw the flashdrive right into the hermitsippi, okay? And then you will go and take down the mustache on our lovely king’s face. If you do get caught, you will not know who did it, and you will never pursue the criminals. And you will not remember this conversation. Understand, sweet face?”

“Yes.”

“Good, good.” Keralis practically purred, and then he broke eye contact, looking to xB with a wink, and then caught Bdubs as he crumpled to the ground.

“Sweet face! What happened?” Keralis asked in concern. xB kneeled next to them, watching the blue light of possession magic wink out of Keralis’ eyes.

“Yeah man, you just kind of came over here babbling about statues and then fell to the ground.” xB helped Bdubs to his feet.

“Weird…” Bdubs muttered. “Well, I better be on my way. Good morning to you boys!” He went to take off, but hesitated. Keralis and xB watched him stand at the edge of Keralis’ pier, reach in his pocket, pull out the flash drive, frown at in in confusion, and throw it into the water. Keralis and xB breathed a sigh of relief as he flew off towards Ren’s statue.

“Good ol’ Keralis mind control.” xB sighed, patting Keralis on the back. “My hero.”

“And it still doesn’t effect you, does it, Princess?” Keralis asked, turning to look xB in the eye. xB looked back at him with a smile, feeling the power of mind control washing over him, doing nothing.

“Nope.”

“Alas.” Keralis chuckled. “Well, the real question is, what do we do to defile the king’s statue next?” He offered xB his arm.

“Already way ahead of you.” xB said, taking the proffered arm and walking with Keralis. “I’m thinking a dumptruck of an ass on the statue. And booty shorts instead of jeans.”

They both burst into laughter. Again. It was all just too funny. Yeah they’d just mind-controlled an innocent man. But it was still just all very funny.

[dustedmagazine]

VR Sex — Hard Copy (Dais)

Listeners and readers of a certain age (ahem) will remember Hard Copy, the tabloid-style entertainment news show that made its bones on broadcasting salacious, titillating and graphically violent images through the 1990s. VR Sex, a post-punk outfit from LA, trades in related semiotics, at least on the surface of this new record — and Hard Copy was nothing but surface. Does VR Sex have greater depth? The jury is out on that one, and the band will likely welcome the deferred verdict. They seem to like toeing the lines of morbidly libidinal transgressions, pushing various hot buttons, provoking the squares. See the partially deflated sex doll on the album’s cover, or song titles like “Hush Money Millionaire” and “Space Invasion,” enjoying the ironies of which may require at least minimal critical activity on the part of the consumer. Sure. But “Hard Copy” is a rock record, so maybe we should be asking: Is the music any good?

It is — but it’s also complicated by the formal ironies that have marked (or plagued) postpunk music from the jump. See “Inanimate Love” for a relevant example. The tune’s opening minute channels the dissonance of Sonic Youth, c. 1986. The signature riff and melody kick in, and you are projected toward the UK, especially the Jesus and Mary Chain in their Darklands-period of struggle with sudden fame. When Andrew Clinco (whose name some will recognize from his high-concept work as Drab Majesty) starts to sing, things get decidedly more louche. A particular strain of West Hollywood freak — hairdo as important as guitar tone, sunglasses worn on stage — creeps toward the music’s center, ghosts of Christian Death and Tomata du Plenty flit in and out like punk rock poltergeists. The song has come home.

None of those names is particularly problematic, but their combination and the sense that the band wants you to summon at least some of them are less straightforward matters. It’s an old saw, the extent to which anything post- is necessarily pastiche, and the resulting arguments that used to feel intrinsically political are all but exhausted. Or maybe we are just too tired. If that second supposition is correct, then songs like “Jenny Killer Glue” and “In Great Detail” seem poised for our pleasure. Flashy and cool, cynical and sexy, they have that rock’n’roll quality of cultural noise that is calculated and dangerous in equal measure.

Here’s another way of putting that: How do you reinvest a half-deflated sex doll with erotic energy? Pay attention to the terms there: they assume that the sex doll was full of erotic investments in the first place. And of course it was. The fact that the commodity form exists (the doll in its original packaging, behind the counter of the porn shop, or these days available on Amazon, for your convenience) means that culture has already distributed the investment, whatever your intent or surface-level interest might be.

So, listen to VR Sex’s “Real Doll Time.” The song’s upbeat energies evoke Wire in a sassy mood, but the vocals are pure West Hollywood. The tune sweeps you along, danceable and rockin. Dig it. But what’s “real doll time,” and what’s a real doll? Mostly: what’s “real” here? Think too hard about those questions and you’ll miss the gag: Clinco’s repeated enunciations of the title phrase become indistinguishable from a different read. It starts to sound like “real dull time.” That’s funny—the gag is on us, always has been. But meanwhile the song churns away, and it closes with 90 seconds of a terrific, slightly mournful and sorta sweet new melody, expertly clad in postpunk textures. Another band would have made a whole song out of it. VR Sex poses it as a throwaway, and it’s exactly the right gesture. Like a smoke, lit, dragged on once or twice, and tossed from the stage. Did you get burned? Good. At least you felt something.

Jonathan Shaw

[baddieromanova]

Don’t really go here anymore, don’t really give a fuck about these characters or ships but let me just say this: I wish you lot as a fandom, gave a fuck about weak and poorly executed plot and character development/regression and the dismantling of friendships when it ACTUALLY mattered, and not used it to suddenly criticise what we all knew was the inevitable happening

[louehvolution]

.

[amatchinwater]

Pairing: Steo, previous Sciles

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, knotting, mating bites, public sex (they're in the woods)

Words: 3829

Ao3 link

Wanna Bet?

---

Late night patrols aren’t on Stiles’ top five list of things he’d like to be doing on a Friday night. But ever since the monster of the week- that they’re no closer to figuring out what it is- has been terrorizing the town, it’s become a nightly thing. They’ve been taking turns and Stiles just so happened to pull the short straw this time around. Another thing this bullshit creature has messed with is his sex life. Funny enough, Stiles and Scott have been sleeping with each other out of sheer convenience. Because who would treat you better than your best friend?

Well, that was the thought at least.

It just sucks that it’s been a good three weeks, give or take, that Stiles has had sex because of the damn thing. His and Scott’s patrols never line up, they rarely have any alone time and downtime is even harder to come by. He’s frustrated. His body is losing its ever loving mind and Stiles is walking in the preserve with Theo of all people. You know, the gorgeous one that makes the spark’s brain forget how to function properly by proximity alone. The chimera pack Alpha whose alliance with Scott is mostly for show and the only common denominator is Stiles. The spark that helps both packs with their emissary needs because he can’t make a decision on one or the other.

He’s trying his hardest to not let Theo know exactly what it’s doing to him being out here alone together. But it’s fucking difficult when your own body is planning a mutiny against you. Not to mention the way that damn denim jacket sits so snuggly around the chimera’s shoulders, it’s hard to remember how to swallow properly let alone control his stupid hormones. He vehemently regrets not letting Peter show him the rune that can hide his chemosignals from supernatural creatures when Deaton wouldn’t.

Stiles has resorted to kicking rocks and levitating sticks to try and distract himself from the gorgeous specimen beside him. It clearly doesn’t work considering Theo’s way of breaking the silence.

“So, you’re fucking Scott, huh?” The Alpha does a tongue in cheek laugh, “that’s why you won’t pick a pack.” He says it with such assurance too. To be perfectly honest, Stiles doesn’t know why he won’t choose. He thought it was better this way.

They’ve been walking in total silence for the better part of an hour. And that’s the first thing the chimera thinks to say. But more pressingly, “h-how do you know that?” Stiles asks, his feet faltering almost enough for him to trip over a large root. Stopping in his tracks completely to turn and face the amused Alpha, the spark narrows his eyes.

“I had some information on the raiju we fought last month and walked in while you two were going at it.” Theo tells him as if that’s not one of the most terrifying sentences he’s ever heard. Or embarrassing. Theo fucking Raeken saw what his sex face looks like and Stiles simply can’t cope with that information.

“You were at his house when I got out of the shower that day!” Stiles squawks, flailing his arm around, “how long had you stuck around to watch?” The question is out before the spark can help himself. He really doesn’t want to know if Theo has some voyeurism kink and got off watching Stiles get fucked.

“Long enough to know I could do it better,” the chimera chuckles under his breath, walking towards the spark; Stiles retreats with a hammering heart. “Not leave you smelling all needy and wanting. Having to jerk off in the shower so that you could cum like you needed to. Or utterly frustrated and borderline touch starved like you are now.” Theo snickers, stepping closer and Stiles’ back hits a tree, making him jump. “What? Scott can’t manage to take care of you while there’s a monster around? Not very Alpha like. Or partner like for that matter. An Alpha’s mate deserves better than that, don’t you think?”

Stiles opens his mouth to say something, anything, only to close it with an audible clack of teeth. Because he truthfully doesn’t know how to respond to that. That’s a lot to unpack, so quite frankly, he wants to refuse to deal with it but curiosity and all that. “An Alpha’s-” he tries, but words are fucking hard when someone like Theo gets this close and starts talking about mates. He’s too close and somehow not close enough. Their bodies almost touch and the heat ignites every nerve in the spark’s body. Because when it comes down to it, no, he hasn’t been taken care of lately and he needs it.

And Theo can smell that.

Shit.

“Cat got your tongue, babe?” Theo traces the line of the spark’s jaw, finally pressing against him. Stiles is positively aching and his hands curl into the hem of the chimera’s jacket, undeciding whether to pull him closer or not, he just holds. “What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll like me more than Scott? Never want to go back to your True Alpha because I fucked you better than he could? That you’d let me claim you as my mate?”

Call it courage, or wanting to push Theo’s buttons, or just the sheer fact of wanting to see if the chimera’s right. Stiles gulps with much difficulty, parting dry lips to whisper, “prove it.” A challenge in every syllable that he can’t stifle when his body is the one in control right now. He’s just happily along for the ride. Not to mention the resounding fact that Scott never once offered to claim Stiles.

He feels like that should sting less than it does. Although, all he’s thinking about is the fact that Theo is practically offering that to him right now.

The fingers on his jaw trail down and ghost over his throat. The spark’s pulse jumps when Theo leans in. Stiles half expects the Alpha to kiss him and he tries to meet him halfway, but the chimera’s lips brush against his ear. “Run,” he growls, stepping back with red eyes.

It takes the spark a painful second to process what Theo told him to do. Give him a break, the Alpha barely touched him, hasn’t even kissed him, and yet his brain went offline. Stiles needed a minute, okay? When it clicks, the spark grins, ready to push the chimera, “Scott didn’t need to tap into his wolf for it to be good.”

“I don’t either,” Theo says with a shrug, smirking as he takes his jacket off. “But trust me, babe,” the Alpha flashes his eyes again, smirk ever present, “you’ll beg me to do it again.” God, he said it with such certainty too. If Stiles wasn’t already wound tighter than a spring, the chimera’s words alone would’ve gotten him there.

It’s not like Theo’s really a bad guy anymore either. Just a little blunt and his moral compass is more than a little broken. And he does like the Alpha and never once promised exclusivity to Scott. So Stiles bites away a grin and takes off. Excitement pools in his gut when a snarl echoes in his ears along with leaves crunching behind him. The spark is smart though, he’s running as fast as humanly possible, yes, but he’s yet to tap into his magic. Really make the Alpha work for it.

Fingers ghost against the fabric of his collar, startling Stiles enough that he uses his spark to burst forward, yanking his flannel off and tossing it who cares where. It’s then Theo roars, making the spark giggle as he continues to run. Over fallen branches and dashing around bushes. Stiles risks a glance over his shoulder, something close to elation crossing his face seeing the black wolf with glowing red eyes chasing him. This is fun! He gets why Theo wanted to do it.

Pivoting his body, Stiles jukes the Alpha just as he’s about to tackle him, earning him another snarl. The spark gets cocky, “aw, come on, Theo. You can do better than that.” Stiles laughs, “I thought you wanted to prove you were better. Maybe I should just go find Sc-” the spark crashes to the ground as a heavy weight barrels into him. Flipping on his back, Stiles looks up to see a very angry wolf towering over him, baring its fangs.

Theo nudges his muzzle against the spark’s chin and before Stiles can tilt his head back himself, the wolf has moved him himself and clamped its jaws around his throat. Growling until the spark’s body goes limp beneath him. An involuntary action, his body- again- taking better care of himself than he does. But sometimes instincts are better than logic because it works. Theo shifts back, gently licking the abused skin. Stiles squirms beneath him to settle himself, but the action makes the chimera snarl and nip at his pulse.

A pulse that skyrockets and the spark freezes. Knowing good and well that by letting Theo chase him like that, he tapped into his most primal instincts and that there might not be much of Theo here right now. One of the chimera’s hands curl around his waist, thumb rubbing soothing circles under his shirt.

“Relax, Stiles,” the Alpha whispers, running his nose along his jaw, not even a hint of teasing in his tone. He’s genuinely trying to calm the spark. “I’ve been supernatural since I was nine,” Theo reminds him, leaning up to look at him with glowing ruby irises. “I never fought the shift. Their instincts are mine. Letting them take over doesn’t mean that I’d ever hurt you.” The chimera cups his cheek, growling a little, “they want you just as much as I do.”

Stiles’ eyes widen at the admission. The cockiness is still there, but true to Theo form, the chimera will never miss a chance to tell the spark that he’ll look after him. He’s been doing it since day one after all. Why should he stop now?

“Do you trust me?”

“Wouldn’t have ran if I didn’t,” Stiles tells him. Relaxing under the chimera, he runs his hands up to Theo’s shoulders. “You caught me,” the sparks swallows thickly, “now what?” Knowing good and well what, he asked for it after all.

Theo just chuckles and closes the distance of their mouths. A bruising kiss that tingles Stiles’ lips and causes his breath to hitch in his throat. The Alpha pulls back and despite himself, the spark is gasping for air. They stare at each other for a minute before both boys inhale sharply and dive back in for more. Holding nothing back as lips are sucked and bitten, tongues gliding together. The spark’s moans make Theo rumble in his chest.

Before Stiles knows it, his shirt is yanked off and he’s flipped over and onto his knees, the Alpha blanketing him from behind. His erection digs into the spark’s ass and Stiles groans. Needing that so fucking badly. “I hope you’re ready,” Theo says, biting at the other boy’s ear.

“Very,” Stiles gasps into the ground, bracing himself on his forearms.

“Good,” the Alpha kisses the crook of his neck and the spark can’t hold back the shiver. “Because I’m going to ruin you.” Stiles doesn’t get a chance to spout back a sarcastic remark because the chimera is unbuttoning his pants and pulling them and his boxers off. The spark shivers as the cold air hits his bare legs, something Theo swiftly soothes by running his hands up and down the mole-covered flesh. Thank you supernatural body heat.

The Alpha nips at his ass eliciting a hiss from the spark. He’d have jolted forward had it not been for the strong hold Theo now has on his waist. “T-that’s gonna leave a mark, you dick,” Stiles gasps, actually loving the idea. Having the chimera’s marks literally everywhere. He’d like to get started on that right now actually.

“Aww,” Theo teasingly coos, “you poor thing,” before he nips at the other cheek.

When Stiles opens his mouth to snap at the chimera again, the Alpha thrusts his tongue into the other boy’s tight hole. Whatever he’d planned on saying is cut off with a loud, high moan unlike any noise Stiles has ever made. For the simple fact that no one has really done that to him before; and he fucking likes it.

He’s not entirely sure when the first finger joined the chimera’s tongue, but Stiles definitely notices the second. Pushing himself back on the digits, needing more of the constant barrage on the bundle of nerves inside of him causing his dick to throb painfully hard between his legs. It’s a feeling he’s rarely had the pleasure of enjoying unless he’s doing it to himself. Have you tried that angle? Even with a toy it’s pretty fucking annoying. Yet Theo is just pumping his fingers in and out, prodding it in the most delicious movement that Stiles can only moan out for more.

So much fucking more.

The chimera hums in approval that turns to a soft growl, vibrating Stiles straight to his core. “Fuck, Stiles,” Theo says, taking his mouth away in lieu of adding a third finger and the spark lets out a wanton moan. The Alpha’s fingers are much thicker than his own, and like he said, it’s been weeks.

Stiles is more pent up than he can handle and if Theo doesn’t get inside him like now, he’s going to fall apart embarrassingly quickly. As in before the Alpha can even fuck him properly. “Theo, please,” the spark whines, caring not one bit that he sounds desperate because he fucking is. And he knows with absolute certainty that the chimera is making his body tingle with pleasure, he can make him feel even better with his dick buried inside him.

“Buried inside you, huh?” Theo teases, trailing kisses and marks up the spark’s spine making him shiver and clench around the digits. “Well, when you ask so prettily, who am I to say no?” He honestly didn’t know he had asked outside of him saying please. The chimera nips and sucks another mark on the crook of the spark’s neck.

As for not knowing he’s speaking because he feels so good, Stiles is totally fine with it if it gets the job done. The Alpha takes his fingers out and Stiles barely has a second to whine at the loss before the head of Theo’s dick is pressing at his entrance. The spark feels a small flash of regret for not having paid better attention and watching the Alpha stroke his cock with spit. Next time. Stiles can’t really process the fact that he had the idea of there being a next time with the chimera because Theo doesn’t gentle him through it.

No, once the tip pops past the tight ring of muscle, he slams forward. Stiles was prepped far too thoroughly for it to have hurt more than would be pleasurable. And fucking hell is it. Crying out, “Theo,” as his nails dig into the dirt, crumpling wet leaves.

While the chimera wasn’t soft, burying himself inside as promised, he does blanket Stiles’ back with his body. Allowing the spark to adjust to the intrusion, kissing just beneath his ear. “You feel fucking amazing, baby,” Theo purrs in his ear, the chimera’s warm breath sending tingles down in his toes. “What?” Stiles can hear the smirk in the Alpha’s voice, “McCall never tell you how good you are?”

The spark can’t answer with words, knowing it’d be through gritted teeth. Because once again, the chimera is right. It was mostly Scott that got taken care of now that Stiles thinks about it. More often than not, the spark finished himself in the shower when they were done. Scott often fell asleep or left before Stiles was able to finish. The wolf never came inside of him either, liked to make a mess about it, so he’d just let Scott think it was his mess too.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Theo lifts up, gripping Stiles’ hips, kneading the flesh. “Never again,” he says, pulling out to the tip. “You’ll always know how good you make me feel,” the chimera slams his hips forward. Repeating the action as he talks, earning him clipped moans from the spark. “And I’ll make sure you cum untouched, beautiful. Always.”

As if the Alpha willed it himself, Stiles’ orgasm hits him like a fucking bus. Rushing through him in a shockwave. Clutching the earth like a lifeline, clenching around the perfect cock- yes, he said fucking perfect, leave him alone- inside of him, and screaming out for the Alpha.

“So perfect, Stiles. So good and mine,” Theo praises, the spark ready to buckle beneath him. Whether it’s from coming as hard as he just did or the Alpha’s words, Stiles couldn’t fucking tell you.

Go ahead and ask if he gives a shit.

Then the chimera picks up his pace, railing into him at a speed that makes Stiles turn to see if Theo’s Beta shifted or not. He really fucking hopes he is. Making eye contact right at his prostate is rammed, Stiles unabashedly moans seeing red eyes and fangs. Not quite shifted, but close enough that he’s absolutely in love right now. His dick is hastily hardening between his legs, amazing the hell out of the spark.

But, hang on.

“What the fuck is that?” Stiles asks, trying to crane his neck over his shoulder farther like he could see for himself. Because if he’s not mistaken it feels like the chimera’s dick is growing that much bigger. That’s never happened before.

Theo’s hips falter for a second, “has- has Scott never knotted you?” The spark shakes his head. “It happens when an Alpha takes their mate, Stiles,” the chimera explains in a ‘you should know this’ sort of way. Adding further to what Theo’s willing to do for him that Scott isn’t. Theo growls, his fingers digging into the spark’s hips harder as he picks his pace back up. “God, if it wouldn’t be more comfortable for you your first time like this, I’d flip you over, watch you fall apart on my knot.” The Alpha leans down and nibbles Stiles’ ear. “I just want to claim you for myself, baby. Know that it’s only my knot you’ll ever cum on.”

“Do it.”

“Stiles,” the chimera warns, “if I claim you, that means you’re mine; forever. There’s no taking that back.”

The spark pushes himself back harder on the Alpha’s dick, letting out a broken moan. “Did I fucking stutter, Theo?” Stiles whips his head back with glowing purple eyes, his spark more than thrilled with the idea. “I want you to claim me.”

“Fucking hell,” the Alpha sounds wrecked as he pulls out, helping the already moving spark onto his back. His knees are certainly thanking him for that, ignoring the small twigs in his back when Theo slides back inside of him without missing a beat. Glowing red eyes darkening with his own lust and need, “alright, I’ll claim you. Fuck, I’ll claim you, baby,” the Alpha lifts Stiles’ legs up, spread farther, and thrusting harder. The position making stars burst behind the spark’s eyes, his prostate being more than a little abused, but it’s so fucking good he can’t breathe unless it’s a moan for Theo.

Stiles is certain the hands holding his thighs are tight enough to bruise and that has something warm curling in his gut. It isn’t until the chimera is licking and sucking at the crook of his neck that the spark realizes it’s another orgasm threatening to break free. “Fuck, Theo, fuck,” Stiles rambles breathlessly, unable to help himself really. Needing to say something because he fucking feels so goddamn much. And he knows that Theo’s left marks everywhere and he can’t wait to see them later.

The Alpha growls through his moans, his thrusts getting more difficult to maintain. The swell killing the spark in the best way possible. Stiles tilts his head back for the chimera to have better access. No sooner does he do that does Theo nearly snarl, sinking his fangs into the offered flesh, slamming his hips forward one last time. His knot locking them together, keeping a constant contact to Stiles’ prostate. Who’s to say if that or the bite is what flew Stiles over the edge. He’s certainly not going to ask, just ride the second, no less powerful orgasm Theo generously provided.

Relishing the feeling of Theo spilling his own release inside of him, keeping him warm and full and Stiles damn near purrs. The chimera growls softly around the bite, waiting until every bit of cum shoots out before releasing his claim. Lovingly licking the wound clean, rumbling in his chest. “Perfect, Stiles. So perfect,” the Alpha nuzzles the mark, not stopping the soft growls that Stiles finds comforting and soothing. “My mate,” Theo hums in content as the spark lifts his arms to hold the Alpha close.

“When I can feel my legs again and that goes down,” Stiles pants, “you are taking me home.” He says finitely. The chimera freezes, lifting up to look at him with worried brows and scared blue eyes. The spark sputters out a laugh, lighting smacking the Alpha’s shoulder, “not like that. We’re doing that again. In a bed,” he corrects. “The forest floor isn’t an ideal place to lay down like this when I just want to sleep.”

Theo chuckles, realizing the spark isn’t prepared to go anywhere without him and doesn’t regret being claimed by him. Both boys feeling a tug in the chest towards the other. It’s warm, feels safe; nice. “You loved it,” the chimera brushes their noses together.

“I did,” Stiles agrees, “we can totally do that again too. But beds,” he repeats, “beds are much more comfortable to sleep on than twigs and leaves.”

“Are you in pain,” the Alpha asks, rubbing his side in soothing circles. Stiles feels the drain and knows if he were to look at the chimera’s hand, it’d have black veins on it.

The spark grabs Theo’s hand, stopping his healing process. Stiles wants to feel every bit of this. Even the small twig in his back. “It doesn’t hurt, Theo,” the spark tells him honestly. Even the strange feeling of being incredibly full on a knot. However, “it does make me very tired,” Stiles admits.

“Go to sleep, baby,” Theo tells him, kissing him softly. “I’ll watch over you and carry you to my truck when I can.”

Stiles hums something that is meant to sound like okay, but he can’t really be sure if he said it. The Alpha above him is rubbing his sides again and growling deep in his chest, lulling the spark to sleep quicker than ever before.

[krystalites]

stationary date with nct dream

genre: fluff all the way

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this popped off when I was planning a stationary date with a friend of mine. Jaemin's part got a bit short cause I kinda forgot about his existence and added it after I lost all my imagination.

⌜ mark ⌟

Between Mark's endless promotions and you studying for your exams, you thought it would be nice to plan a stationary date. You needed new supplies and your boyfriend Mark needed some time to himself.

When you and Mark arrived to the stationary you discovered a few days ago, you noticed that it wasn't as busy as usual. There were only a few people and all that could be heard was soft mumbling of these people along with the soft music playing in the back ground. After making sure Mark was well hidden under his mask, hat and sunglasses combo, the two of you quickly entered the stationary and immediately sprinted towards the rack here the colourful pens were stacked. After minutes of trying out pens and trying to create a nice colour palette, you moved on to the notebooks.

Hours passed by, the sun setting and everybody else leaving. Mark lifted his head from the Oz-Pack's he was checking out and smiled at the sight of you trying to pick out a pencil case. You looked adorable looking from a pencil case to another, examining them carefully so you could choose one of them.

"Come on, I'll buy you both of them." No matter how much you protested, Mark didn't listen and still bought you everything you've put in the little basket the cashier gave you when you first entered the store.

On the way back, you squeezed Mark's hand tightly. "I'm sorry if you didn't have as much as fun as I did." you mumbled quietly. Your boyfriend was quick to shake his head and smile.

"No, I really enjoyed it. It was quite calming actually. We should do it again another time."

⌜ renjun ⌟

The idea was all Renjun. Over the few months, he had grown a habit of keeping a diary. He would sketch stuff, tape random stuff, put stickers and more. When you told him that a bullet journal would look really nice and showed him some pictures, he became really excited. A few days later, he asked you to tag along while going to the stationary to buy the items he needed. Of course, you quickly agreed and took him to a stationary you knew that was pretty popular. By the time you guys got there, it was quite late. Only about an hour left to closing the store, it was almost empty.

You two quickly entered the store and started your little journey of looking for the perfect items. Renjun told you he would go for a more brown-ish look, so you both picked out lots of nude coloured supplies with black ball point pens and stickers. He also got a few sketching pens and markers.

And Renjun being Renjun, he managed to convince you to keep a bullet journal too. So whatever you guys picked for Renjun, you quickly bought them too and left the store minutes before closing. Not wanting to end the night, you quickly went to a convenience store nearby and bought a few drinks. You went to a park, sat on the picnic tables and started to decorate your journals.

You had finished earlier, leaving a bit more place for writing and less for decorations. You wrote something inside the journal, left it open and started napping with your arms under your head. Renjun smiled at the sight of you sleeping and noticed that your journal was open. He took it to close it, yet didn't when he saw what was scribbled inside. Instead, he smiled and leaned forward to plant a kiss on your hair.

Words weren't enough to express his endless and pure love to you.

Dear Diary,

I love Renjun.

⌜ jeno ⌟

Jeno was the perfect boyfriend, quite literally. He was caring, gentle, sweet, handsome, funny and all. But most importantly, he never forgot anything you said. Never. In your whole relationship of 3,5 years he never forgot anything you said. Including you telling him about how you ran out of school supplies over face time a few months ago.

Which is how you ended up in front of a stationary you mentioned to your boyfriend over a week ago. He pulled you in, walking over to the yearly agendas to get you the alpaca one you always wanted. Whatever you mentioned to him on that face time, he found all of them. He also payed for them, after you made him promise to let you pay when he wanted to buy something.

After the two of you exited the store and went back to the dorms, you quickly walked over to his shared room with Jaemin. Thankfully he wasn't at the dorm. You quickly pushed your boyfriend on the bed, climbing on his lap and squeezing the hell out of him. He laughed and kissed your forehead, hugging you back.

"Thanks for remembering everything I say, Jeno. You have no idea how loved that makes me feel." you mumbled quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly put your pointer finger on his lips. "Let me continue. Seeing how much you care for me makes me really happy and I think that we could actually have a long and beautiful future ahead of us." you leaned to your bag sitting a few inches away from the two of you. You quickly pulled out a box out of the bag and threw the bag to its old place. You opened the box and pulled out two rings. Jeno's eyes widened as the realisation hit him.

"Which is why I'm giving you this promise ring. One day, when we're sure we can come out to the whole world, I'm going to marry you. Until then, let's keep these rings as a promise."

Jeno talked to his manager later that day, telling him that both him and you were ready to go public.

⌜ haechan ⌟

Donghyuck hadn't left you alone in days, clinging on you like a koala. You had come from your hometown to Seoul for two weeks. Your boyfriend missed you like crazy over the months, being in a long distance relationship could be hard sometimes. There were only a few days left, after flying back to your hometown you were going to start your spring quarter of the school year. A friend of yours who used to lived in Seoul had told you about a certain stationary, mentioning cute pens and school supplies you couldn't find in your hometown.

When you asked Donghyuck if he wanted to tag along, he whined and whined until you managed to convince him. You needed him anyways, you still had difficulties in speaking and understanding Korean.

"Do we really have to do this? You only have a few days left, I want to cuddle with you! And more..." He pouted and crossed his arms on his chest. When you finally arrived at the stationary, he entered it unwillingly but you know the mighty power of Stationaries. As soon as he stepped in, he was amazed by the environment and the beautiful supplies and before you knew it he was more excited than you.

After an hour of wandering in the stationary and picking out stuff, the store started to get busy. Considering you had to keep Donghyuck's existence there as a secret, both of you quickly payed and ran out. Giggling like high school girls, you two exited the store and called a cab. While waiting, you two compared the stuff you bought. You had bought all the stuff you were planning to buy and he bought a notebook and a bunch of pens to write lyrics.

The first song he wrote was a love song for you and only you, waiting to be shared to the whole world with only the two of you knowing the meaning behind it.

⌜ jaemin ⌟

When Jaemin came up to you with an idea of a gaming journal, you couldn't say no. He wanted create a little booklet filled with all the games he's ever played, along with ratings and comments about them. He was very enthusiastic about video games, always finding something new to play. Sometimes he would come over to your place to play games with you, or simply teach you how to play one.

The two of you met up at the stationary close your school, as it was in a less busier area. While there, he also declared that this meet up was actually a date. While he was looking at the stuff he wanted to buy, you tried out different pens. Noticing a little white board and a few colourful white board markers, you quickly bought them so you could use them for studying. You had to start revising for your exams in a few days. When you were done, you fund Jaemin in the huge store, now just following him around. He bought different coloured markers and pens and a black notebook. He also got copies of some game covers to stick on each page.

When the two of you got back to the dorms, you quickly pulled a chair next to his table where his small set up was. Placing your newly-bought items on the desks free space. You quickly began sticking the covers on each page, writing the games name and general information, how it ended, on what platform he played etc. At the very bottom, there were Jaemin's comments and a rating he gave. The first few pages were done, and you two were actually very proud of yourselves. It looked really good! Jaemin thanked you and gave you little kisses all over your face. After finishing showering you with kisses, he told you he'd play games with his friends. You quickly climbed on his lap and snuggled into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck with your legs swinging on his sides.

Jaemin smiled at the way you were cuddling with him and shook his head to the sides. He gave you a little kiss on the temple and started playing.

"Thank you sweetheart. You make me really happy by showing interest in my interests."

⌜ chenle ⌟

Chenle had bought you a few last minute plane tickets , and yes multiple tickets, because he wanted you to fly all around the world with him for Dream's world tour. He made you so happy, proving that he doesn't want to be away from you for that long.

When he came home and told you about the tickets, your first idea was to create a small photo album. Though, you didn't want it to be simple. You wanted small details, which is why you were at the stationary now, trying to decide if you wanted to decorate the album with blue-ish colours or pink-ish colours. The items were laid on a small rack in the store, in a less busier part of it.

The date idea was both yours and Chenle's. You wanted him to come with you, he wanted it to be a date. And the closest place where this date could take place was the stationary a few blocks away from his house.

"I think we should go with pink." Chenle said after a very long silence. "The album cover is cream coloured, and pink would go better with that." Imagining what it would look like, you agreed with him. You bought a bunch of pink ink pens, Stabilo's and Signo's. You bought a few black pens and markers too. Chenle insisted on buying pink post-it's too, so you also bought them. Even though the two of you were done with the shopping, you still looked around and bought some stuff for the next school year.

Hours passed by in the little store. You found your boyfriend in the very back of the store, checking out agendas. You tapped his shoulder with a little smile, and let out a loud laugh when he flinched.

"Calm down, Lele. It's just me." He pouted and flicked your forehead gently. "You scared me! Are we going home?" He asked and rubbed his eyes. He was feeling sleepy. Something he does whenever he feels like he could sleep at the spot. "You look tired. I think we should." With your answer, you exited the store hand in hand.

Later that night, right before falling asleep, Chenle whispered something in your ear.

"I can't wait to travel like this with you, I hope we can do it with our children sometime in the future."

And you did it.

⌜ jisung ⌟

To say Jisung was freaked out would be an understatement. The first day of school was tomorrow, and he hadn't bought any school supplies. He called you last minute, rambling something about going to the stationary with him because you had a lot of "knowledge about pens and everything. You being the amazing significant other you are, quickly agreed and got ready.

After meeting Jisung in front of the stationary and making a list of everything that needs to be bought, you quickly got to work. Files, copy papers, scissors, pens, erasers and whatever else you need for school. You bought a few stuff for his locker too, so he could decorate it. You got copies of all the necessary papers and forms, quickly putting them all in a file you bought from the store.

Almost an hour later, you were finished. You quickly went to the dorms together to organize all of the stuff you had bought. While sticking the name tags on the notebooks, Jisung looked up at you ,who was sitting on his bed, and smiled gently. After watching you carefully write Park Jisung on each tag both in Hangul and Romanisation for a few minutes, he finally spoke up.

"Hey Y/N..?" You turned your head to him and tilted your head to the side. "Yeah, 'Sungie?" He blushed at the simple nickname, despite having heard it for almost a million times. It really affected him that much. "I wanted to thank you for helping me out today. I'm sorry I asked you to come over just like that, but I couldn't have finished all of this so soon without you." You chuckled and finished tagging your last item, quickly jumping on his bed, right next to him. You pulled him on your chest by pushing his head on it. Jisung smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist.

This was his happy place.

[kamotoshi]

intent [kamo noritoshi x reader]

pairing: kamo noritoshi (the good one) x sorcerer! fem reader 

genre: fluff, comfort

warnings: the whole story revolves around the reader being injured so there are brief mentions of medication, pain, and injuries; toshi bein a headass

word count: 3.7k

overview: you have to wonder what your best friend’s intentions are when he’s gone out of his way to visit you during every day of your recovery, no matter how busy he is

On one of the walls surrounding you, the clock’s hand shifts from one minute to the next. Through the speakers of your laptop, the movie you’ve stopped paying attention to long ago drones on in the background. Instead of focusing on the plot, you’ve taken to gazing out the window, watching the lush foliage outside painted vivid oranges and blues by the sunlight breaking through dark clouds dance in the breeze, as if celebrating the end of yet another spring shower. It feels hard to remember the last time you went for a walk outside—or anywhere, for that matter—and the more you think about how painful it is to be bedridden and out of action, the more you start to feel the dull, seemingly constant aches laying siege to your exhausted body.

Thankfully, the sound of the door to your temporary living quarters opening and closing again distracts you from your depressing thoughts, and, instead, makes your heart flutter with hope. Plastic crinkling, fabric shifting, and footsteps padding along the floor reach your ears next before a tall and familiar figure appears in the doorway to the bedroom. There’s a moment’s hesitation on his journey into the room, as if he’d been worried about disturbing you, but he continues with confidence when he sees you’re awake and expecting him.

With a small smile, you greet him, “Hey, ‘Toshi.”

“Hey,” he replies, “how are you feeling?” The long sleeves of his loose-fitting robes flutter behind him like a butterfly’s wings as he wanders over to the chair beside the bed you’ve been confined to for the past few days.

You shrug, glancing down at the bandages peeking out from beneath the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m alright, I guess.”

His eyes dart from the screen of your laptop to your own gaze, then back again. With furrowed brows, he adds, “What are you watching?”

“I wish I could tell you.”

“What’s the point of putting something on if you’re not gonna watch it? What else were you even doing?” he questions.

A scoff echoes from your throat at the fact that you’ve become the sudden subject of an unnecessary interrogation over such a trivial topic, but you can’t help the wry chuckle that follows upon noticing his unfazed expression. As usual, he doesn’t see the issue in such small debates. “I always could leave it to you to argue about the most irrelevant things.” In spite of the dull, warning pain that pangs in the side of your torso, you reach over to move your fingers over your laptop’s trackpad, but Noritoshi quickly stops you and does the job for you.

“Has everyone here been taking care of you while I’ve been gone?” is his next, surprisingly relevant question.

Leaning back against the pillows propped up behind you should give your body a sense of ease, but after spending so much time in one spot, you’re desperate to do the opposite instead. “Yeah. They’ve been checking in on me and bringing me food and painkillers, so I can’t complain.” Your lips curl into a small, devious grin when you mention, “You know, I went on a walk around the place with one of your servants and he told me all these funny stories about you when you were little, including the one where you accidentally gave yourself an awful haircut and refused to leave home without a hat.”

Self-consciously, he fingers the wrappings holding his dark strands of hair together, mindlessly beginning to unravel them. Though his attention is conveniently directed at the computer screen, you can see the blush that dusts his cheeks before his hair falls in front of his face when he removes its bindings. As much as you want to tease him over the event that had happened during his childhood, you find yourself at a brief loss for words at how he looks now. The way your heart thrums just a bit faster and harder is undeniable and fills your body with a different kind of pain, since you wonder if he’s ever looked at you the same way you’re looking at him.

Tracing over the handsome features of his face with your gaze, resisting the urge to separate the kinks in his hair from being held together so tightly all day, hoping you become the center of his attention again.

“You know we have movies here, right?”

His comment abruptly interrupts your thoughts, and you clear your throat before shooting back a, “What?”

“The one you’re watching is horrible.”

“Oh? And how would you know?”

He purses his lips and glances over at you out of the corner of his eye. There’s a somewhat uncomfortable pause before he blurts out, “A friend.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” you retort with a snicker.

You swear you see a hint of a smile playing at his lips as he sits back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I’ll bring back a better one from my room for us to watch after I go and change.” When his dark eyes meet with yours, there’s a tinge of something indiscernible in them. Sadnesss, regret, maybe a bittersweet kind of relief? It reminds you of how he’d first looked at you when he’d helped you into the bed in which you lie now.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” You shake your head. “Alright. I picked some stuff up from the store. I’ll be back to cook in ten minutes.” He frowns at the shocked expression that appears across your face at the mention of him cooking, since it’s such a rare occasion—due mostly to his lack of skill in the area—and rises to his feet once more. He does, however, extend his hand toward you and say, “Come on, I’ll help you into the other room since I know you’d be too worried sitting in here while I make us something to eat.”

A coy smile forms across your lips as you shove the covers aside, exposing your legs clad in sweatpants to the cool air in the room. “You know me so well, don’t you?” is the remark you send his way in a facetious manner that only fuels Noritoshi’s chagrin. His hand feels incredibly warm against yours when he grabs it to help you out of your confinement in the shape of a memory foam mattress, and you tighten your grip around it as your legs tremble with fatigue. Moving closer to you, he allows you to wrap your arms around one of his to support yourself, bringing your body flush against his

“Eight years.”

“Huh?” Your eyes, which had been formerly directed at the floor to mask the effects of your racing heart, shoot upwards toward him.

His eyebrows furrow in that judgmental, what do you mean ‘huh’? type of look he always made and wondered why others recoiled at the sight of it. “That’s how long we’ve known each other, so it’s no wonder why I know you so well.”

Giving his arm a playful squeeze, you shoot back, “Didn’t know you’d been keeping count.”

“It’s basic math.”

“’Toshi… you’re so, brutally honest. No wonder I’m, like, your only friend.”

“So?” he murmurs, arm dipping to support you, then lifting once more when your leg nearly gives out on you, “I’d rather have you than anyone else.”

The way he lets what he’s just said be known in his unabashedly straightforward manner of speaking, without tacking any other comments on to verify his intentions are purely platonic sends a wave of comforting warmth washing over you. Over the years, you’ve known him for his sometimes abrasively candid nature, but you’ve always appreciated that he’s never left you to question the value he places on your friendship. In spite of his shy tendencies that seemed to be limited mostly to interactions with you when the two of you had first become friends, he’d never been one to beat around the bush—and he still didn’t now.

Though you’ve always assumed his comments like the one he’d just made were meant in a friendly way, you can’t help but wonder if maybe there is something he’s not being forthcoming about. If maybe his more relaxed pace while walking with you accompanied by his lingering touch as he helps you onto the couch is his way of prolonging the time during which he gets to be closer to you. If maybe the subtle softness to his expression while he watches you settle is a result of love rather than just a superficial level of concern. If maybe him opening his clan’s estate to you as a refuge where you could safely recover had been done out of a deeper affection he harbored for you instead of his own guilt at not being able to protect you in the situation that had led to your injury.

But these are speculations you force into the back of your mind out of the fear you’re being imaginative and presumptuous. Surely, if he’d felt anything more than friendship towards you, he would’ve said something by now… right? It’s getting harder to believe with each visit he spends at your bedside, falling asleep with his head on your shoulder while he’s sitting beside you or resting by your legs as he slumps over onto the bed from where he sits in his chair. Seeing him go out of his way to support you, as he’s doing now while he stands in front of the stove—glaring at all the ingredients before him like he’s attempting to intimidate them into making a meal out of themselves—doesn’t help rid you of your persistent thoughts either.

Thankfully, you’re able to find a bit of distraction through conversation with him about his day. Between your glances over at him, you take to staring out the window, watching the rain come pounding down against the earth once more. Unbeknownst to you, Noritoshi finds his eyes on your form each time he looks up from what he’s doing, but they flicker back to the task at hand upon noticing your head turn back to keep a careful watch on him. Unfortunately, the moment you smell good food is when you let your guard down, and it’s not until there’s a haze in the room that you realize you’ve had too much faith in him.

Tearing your gaze away from the flowers Tōdō had brought you earlier in the morning, you shoot a pointed look over your shoulder at where Noritoshi stands in the kitchen. “Noritoshi, the food’s burning.”

“No, it’s still cooking,” is his swift response laced with confidence, as is usual for him. There’s a loud sizzle when he nudges whatever’s in the skillet onto the other side, sending another plume of smoke upwards

“It’s literally smoking.”

With a sigh, he turns on the fan above the oven and quells the flame beneath the pan with a turn of one of the knobs. Rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, he prods rather cautiously at what you can only assume is a lump of coal with a fork. You don’t need to see his face to know that he’s realized the error of his ways, since his broad shoulders slump ever so slightly. You’re sure part of him wants desperately to say that it’s not that bad, but you only hear the grating sound of him chipping away at the scorched food.

It’s hard to keep a straight face, especially when he turns away from the disastrous attempt at cooking to face you and ask:

“So, what do you want to eat for dinner?”

Your answer to his question finds a box of your favorite food in your lap about a half hour later, and him close by your side as the two of you eat and watch one of the movies he’d brought over from his room. With the darkness of the sky outside and the warmth residing inside you both at having enjoyed a meal much more pleasant than the one he’d tried and failed to make, it’s no wonder you find him dozing off. And it’s only a matter of time before his head comes to rest against your shoulder—an action you can only assume was done unintentionally in his sleep, but that sends heat rising up to your face anyway.

As much as you enjoy having him close and feeling his deep breaths tickle your collarbone, you decide to nudge him back into consciousness after about fifteen minutes of letting him snooze in case he wants to go back to his own room.

“’Toshi…?”

“Hey,” he murmurs nearly unintelligibly, “are you okay? Do you need anything?” The level of concern in his voice and the questions he asks before his eyes have even fluttered open make it challenging to hide the grin that threatens to spread across your lips. Your noses nearly brush when he lifts his head, and the small squeak you nearly let out soon morphs into a gentle chuckle at the way he blinks slowly and knits his brows together with confusion as he tries to regain his bearings.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you assure him, “I’m fine. I was just wondering if you wanted to go to bed.”

He frowns. “Maybe,” is his reply exhaled in a deep sigh as he stands so he can offer you his hand once more. “C’mon, I’ll help you back to the bedroom.”

There’s a somewhat heavy silence in the air after you thank him and latch onto his arm to steady yourself. Whereas his lack of chattiness is most likely from his own fatigue weighing heavily on him, yours stems from one of the many questions that’s been lingering in your mind. With the way he’d been going out of his way to assist you and keep you company between his missions, you can’t help but wonder what his true intentions are—and if he’ll tell you when asked. You don’t know if you can bring yourself to ask, however, and your own self-consciousness keeps you quiet while he helps you back into your temporary bed yet again.

He lingers, though, almost as if he can sense you have something on your mind with the way you’ve gone silent. So, he takes a seat beside you on the plush mattress and places his hands in his lap. The flash of lightning that brings a slow, rumbling roar of thunder along with it distracts him for a moment and his fingers grip each other tightly. He hates thunderstorms, and you’re one of the only people who know. In a movement that feels instinctual, you reach for his hand, sending a soft smile his way when he slides his clammy palm between your warm ones.

Maybe it’s because you know he’s feeling just as vulnerable as you are—which is a rare occasion with the walls he’s built up around his more personal thoughts and feelings—but words start rolling off your tongue before you can stop them.

“Say, ‘Toshi?” you ask. He hums in response, the low tone of his voice nearly lost beneath the rhythmic thrumming of rain crashing down against the roof. “Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?” Though his words were laced with exhaustion not that long ago, he seems much more alert now. Whether it’s his fear or his intrigue, you’re unsure, but his eyes meeting yours makes your breath hitch in your throat for a moment. The way you’re acting now brings a question you don’t intend on voicing to the forefront of your mind: How did I manage to deny my feelings for so long?

But the one you ask is: “Why are you doing all this for me?”

His brow raises. “What do you mean?” In a manner that’s comedic to you, he glances around the room, looking for whatever it is you’re referencing.

“I mean everything. Letting me stay here, taking care of me when you’re here, baking me dessert; hell, you even tried to cook me dinner.” Another clap of thunder gives you pause, and his fingers tighten around one of your hands. “So, what’s all this for?”

Brushing a few strands of raven-colored hair away from his face with his unoccupied fingers, he states, “I wanted to be the one to take care of you.”

Your face tingles with prickles of heat at his comment, but the sensation fades slightly when you notice his gaze has dropped to his lap and he’s allowed his bangs to shroud his expression. He doesn’t have the look of determination or even adoration in his eyes of someone who’s ready to confess their feelings. No, he looks guilty.

“Why?”

He fills his lungs with a deep breath that he releases in a drawn-out sigh before answering, “Because if I hadn’t suggested we split up during that mission, then this wouldn’t have happened to you.” The warm feeling of hope that had been swelling in your heart grows cold, like a flame extinguished by an icy gust of wind. “I needed to be the one to take care of you since I got you into this mess. This whole thing was my fault.”

“Oh, I see.” The biting undertones of your words don’t go unnoticed by him like they might normally would, since he lifts his head to look at you. With a shrug, you snap, “So you’re only doing all this to clear your guilty conscience, then?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” is his rebuttal spoken with brows furrowed.

“What the hell else was that supposed to mean, then? How was I meant to take that? Because to me it just sounds like you’re doing this to make yourself feel better.”

He shakes his head in an act of irritation toward himself. “Yes, I feel guilty, but that’s not the main reason why I’m doing this.”

“What, did you do it to be seen as a hero? An amazing sorcerer who’s also an admirable friend? Someone capable of doing the right thing?” you retort sarcastically, the sting of rejection parading as rage tainting your tongue.

“I’m doing it because I love you!”

In the long, somewhat awkward silence that follows his confession, you almost expect his face to fall. For him to realize that he’d revealed something that he hadn’t meant to. Or, worse, for him to tack the condition, “as a friend,” onto the end of it.

But the honesty in his dark eyes doesn’t waver. He doesn’t turn away and mutter about wishing he hadn’t said what he did. He doesn’t backtrack to revise his confession in a way that would keep you safely in the friend zone.

Instead, he says it again with the same level of confidence: “I love you.”

And adds, “More than I think you understand.”

His grip around your hand tightens in a gentle manner different to the fear with which he’d clutched it before with each flash of lightning outside. “You… do?” you whisper as your heart begins to ache in the tight vise of regret you now feel at your outburst. He nods without hesitation in response, and a small tug on his sleeve beckons him closer to you, driving away the chill in the air between your bodies.

For a moment, neither of you move, and, instead, gaze at each other as if your eyes are speaking silent reassurances. Despite the confident nature of his words, his actions are somewhat timid, since you don’t feel his breath fan across your face until you cup his in your hands. But, as soon as you utter those same words in return and press your lips to his, he kisses away any lingering doubts or worries, as well as your quiet apologies. While the storm rages on outside, you can only hear your own heartbeat and the short breaths you take between each tender yet passionate meeting of your lips. It feels as if a great deal of time has passed before you pull away, and you’re grateful for every second of it.

Without so much as a second thought, you make yourself at home in his arms already wrapped around you, resting your head in the crook of his neck. His warmth envelops you when he carefully tightens his grip around you to avoid hurting you, and any pain you’d felt earlier seems to dissipate in the glow of happiness and overwhelming relief that have taken its place. Noritoshi nestles his face against the side of yours, and his body steadily becomes heavier against yours until the peace is disturbed by another roar sounding from the skies above.

“This storm’s not letting up anytime soon,” he sighs, “Want me to stay here with you?”

Before you can even answer, he starts peeling back the covers and settling himself down in bed beside you. And in spite of your heart fluttering with joy at the thought of him spending the night with you, the opportunity to tease him is too enticing for you to let it slip away. “Why would I need you to stay here with me, huh?”

As usual, however, he’s unnerved by your attempt at catching him off-guard, and calmly replies, “In case the power goes out or you can’t sleep because of all the noise, obviously.”

A wry chuckle bubbles in your throat as you lie down beside him and move the side of your head onto his chest. “Obviously. Where would I be without you here to take care of me? I’m very lucky to have someone as diligent as you are by my side, aren’t I?” you simper.

His fingers interlace with the ones you have resting on his torso running absentmindedly along the soft fabric of his sweater. Giving your hand a tender squeeze and pausing a moment to admire the way your palm fits into his, he murmurs, “I think I’m the lucky one.”

Your last statement had been delivered somewhat facetiously but seeing the way his cheek comes to rest against the pillow so he can look over at you with only pure, unwavering honesty makes you add, in a more serious tone, “That makes two of us, then.”

[ohmycenchaheart]

Came across these headcanons that I’d written post the finale because I refused to accept the show ending like that. I refuse to believe that after everything they’ve gone through, Cha Young and Vincenzo cannot be together. Sorry PJB, but that’s not happening (even if it was sorta realistic and brilliant). Anyway. This is what I’d have loved to see play out. 

Homecoming

It happens on one of their game nights. Game day became game night because Cha Young often has trials at the court these days.

They’re playing Mafia again. Of course they are. And when Cha Young ends up as the Mafia, she thinks momentarily of a compliment, indulgently given over cups of Makgeolli, that maybe she truly did believe in the Mafia.

Their game is interrupted by the arrival of two of Geumga Family’s honorary members — Ahn Gi Seok and Cho Young Woon, who are lovingly welcomed with hugs and pats on the back. Because it’s not often most of the family gets to be together (most and not all, because one of them is always missing).

“Well, my old-looking hoobae and I were wondering if there’d be room for three more players at tonight’s game night…” “Yah, Ahn gun, we’ve been the ones drinking, but it seems you’re the one who is drunk,” says Mr. Tak. Upon which, Mr. Cho adds, “Ahh, you see, we brought an old friend along.”

And it is then a familiar voice greets them. “Annyeonghaseyo.”

To say that the Geumga Plaza family collectively loses it would be an understatement.

Mr. Nam is the first to tackle Vincenzo with a hug and his trademark “Byeonhosa-nim!”

Cha Young stands at the back, elated and trying to process if this is really happening, while Vincenzo gets hugged by the rest of the family. With a knowing smile, Yeon-Jin reassuringly squeezes Cha Young’s arm, while her husband gushes over Vincenzo, and others wait their turn to hug the now returned man.

When it is her turn for a hug, no one misses on how Vincenzo is the one to initiate the hug. No one even remarks on the soft look both their faces sport, or how their hug lasts a few seconds longer than the others’.

And then game night isn’t game night anymore. Over Tteokbokki and beer, Mr. Cho and Mr. Ahn reveal how they worked it all out, using their agency and the guillotine file to clear Vincenzo’s name and let him come back. On Vincenzo’s part, he still has his secret island, but he has moved his Italian family somewhere safe, and left someone very capable in charge. It’s not that he has changed his ways, no, he is still the man he was when he left. It’s just.. it was about time he returned home to his family.

The three also let the plaza people know how well Han Seo has been recovering after undergoing numerous surgeries, and how they hope he will be joining them back in Seoul after completing his rehabilitation therapy abroad. Mr. Nam wonders if that means they’ll be getting a new intern at Jipuragi sometime soon.

When Hee Soo accidentally drops her napkin and bends down to retrieve it, she catches the two lawyers holding hands under the table, while being the perfect picture of nonchalance. She smiles and doesn’t say a word.

When the family has finally finished catching up, and sleep gradually takes over them all, the group decides to disperse.

Before leaving, Mr. Lee and Yeon Jin let Vincenzo know what time his goddaughter will be awake the next day, so that he can finally meet her.

Cha Young and Vincenzo make their way to the footbridge (a place where some of their fondest memories linger still despite all the time that has passed) because there’s something Cha Young has to let him know: she might have (read: definitely has) taken over his old apartment.

It was honestly a matter of convenience, nothing else. For those days when work makes her put in longer hours, and it’s easier to sleep at the apartment rather than going back all the way home. Plus, she already had the spare key and it was easy to negotiate with Mr. Cho (who didn’t charge her a penny for the place, as if he’d dare). It had nothing to do with the fact that on days when Cha Young found herself missing him more than usual, curling up in this apartment brought her comfort. With all his things still there, sometimes it felt as if he hadn’t left.

But of course, Vincenzo already knows all this. Mr. Cho had already filled him in.

And so they make their way to the apartment 606. It still is sparsely furnished like the way it was when he lived there, but there are a few new additions. His couch has more pillows and a soft throw blanket. His living room table is littered with case files and a familiar bunny massage stick. In the kitchen there are boxes of ramen and instant coffee mix, and cartons holding makgeolli bottles. In his bathroom, there’s an extra toothbrush and a small make up bag by the sink. Bottles of shampoo and perfume and soap that smell like her now stand next to his old toiletries. It makes him smile because it feels he never left, like they’ve been living here together in this tiny apartment all this while, his world and hers mixing together. He won’t admit how many times he’s dreamt of this -- just them and the life they’ve made together.

When he enters his room, he finds half his closet space is taken over by her “emergency wardrobe”... And it seems his old Booralro sleepwear has somehow made its way to her pile of clothes. In Cha Young’s defence, despite looking silly, that silky nightshirt is ridiculously comfy, and it’d be such a shame if she let a limited edition piece of work go to waste. That she kept it because it reminds her of him remains unsaid.

The one addition Cha Young has made to the apartment that Vincenzo loves the most is in his room. Atop the dresser, next to all his lighters and Inzhagi’s bird food, are three photo frames. The first has a picture of him and his mum. The second is the portrait of the two of them with Cha Young. And the third is the picture from their fake proposal that the art gallery had emailed them. It’s funny how, despite spending all that time together, this was the only photo they had together. Vincenzo thinks it’s time they change that.

They both stand by the window, and when Inzhagi finally comes by to say hi to his old friend, Cha Young is reminded of a Shakespearean quote — Journeys end when lovers meet — because lets be real, Vincenzo’s true love is this pigeon. Vincenzo is highly offended when Inzhagi shows preference to the bird food Cha Young has laid out for him, and not the one Vincenzo has to offer. Guess Cha Young’s diligent feeding of the bird during his absence has secured her a new friend.

Given the late hour, it only makes sense that Cha Young sleep over. And traditions must be continued, so some ramyeon is made (this time it’s two servings because no matter what Cha Young says about not wanting ramyeon, Vincenzo remembers his lesson all too well) and bottles of Makgeolli are consumed.

The two wake up the next morning, all tangled up on the living room floor, in the space between the couch and the coffee table (that is now pushed aside). And despite the uncomfortable floor, it’s the soundest sleep they’ve both had in the last year and half.

But they need to wake up soon and head out. First stop coffee, a quick check up on their gold,  and then to meet his goddaughter over whom he has promised to look after. And after that, a quick stop to their old Bungeoppang stand (if it’s still there) and a drive to where their parents now rest.

This, Vincenzo thinks as he holds an asleep Cha Young in his arms, is what it means to finally be home.

[kusagrasskusa]

Fell! Sans X Reader - "Boss is gonna kill me-"

Here at the Hamilcult, we support fluff fanfics in cringy fandoms that likely implement OOC cannon characters. That was sarcasm but even so, just know that this might be sorta OOC and this is fluff :3

Also, prepare for a Wattpad level written story and a shitty plot. I just got done writing a 7000 worded fanfic and frankly, I need a b r e a k.

Forgive me for I have sinned writing this

~~~~~~~

Y/N yawned, rubbing her tired eyes before laying back on her chair. She sunk deep into her warm coat, the fluffy fur on the hood making her feel more relaxed. The coat was oversized black and red with big pockets, perfect for a human in a place like Snowdin. After all, at the post near the conveniently shaped lamp, Y/N was waiting in the blistering cold. Well, the scenery looked peaceful but it definitely was snowing and the air was terribly cold. The fur on the coat rubbed against her face, making her cheeks turn red from the contrast heat of it and the cold air.

She whined and pulled the coat over her head when a few snowflakes touched her face. "Cold," she mumbled tiredly. Y/N flipped her body to the side and whined again. This time, the problem was how uncomfortable her position was. So she tossed over to the other direction and laid her head against the chair. "...the chair is uncomfortable," she tiredly whined.

"If it's that bad then just fucking leave," a rough, annoyed voice spoke. It was Sans, the slightly taller skeleton with a red sweater on and without his coat. "I want my coat back anyway. You're getting ya' human scent in it and I don't want that kinda trouble," he continued. Y/N huffed and sat up straight. She was around his size to sat the least, but a bit thinner and shorter.

"But I thought you wanted me out here," she retorted. "You clearly get lonely here after a while so I wanted to stay with you."

"Yeah, well stayin' with me hasn't brought more customers, has it?" He replied, turning his head towards the younger girl. His red eyes seethe into her soul basically, but Y/N just giggled at his serious expression. The hood covered half her face so her eyes were widen, which they usually were. It's strange because even without the hoodie, something is always covering her eyes whether it's her hair or not. And without a barber in Snowdin and hundreds of people who want to murder her for being human, Y/N hair is bound to grow out anyway.

"You're so funny sometimes Sans," she complimented with a sweet smile on her face. "You have such a cute look when you're mad...well actually, I don't think I've ever seen you not mad before. I wonder what a genuine smile would look like..." she mumbled sleepily. Sans felt his cheeks light up a bit so he turned away from her, rolling his eyes. He wasn't used to such words at all.

"Huh?–" Sans jumped as he felt the girl's arms wrap around his body softly. She had slipped her arms out of the coat for Sans to out his arms in.

"Put the coat back on. It's big enough for me to fit back here," she giggled quietly as she rested her head on Sans's shoulder. Sans felt his fa e turn red and his body tense; he growled and turn his head towards her.

"I gave the damn thing to you, so wear it properly !"

"But you're cold and you're coat can fit us both."

"I don't care!" Sans hissed back, making Y/N giggled. The two friends often had times like this; wholesome and adorable with Sans getting all flustered. Sans barely even saw her a friend as he promised he would never let anyone get too close to him so he doesn't turn soft. But Y/N's persistent and sweet personality really struck him hard. Of course, he wouldn't go as far as to crush on her, right? No, their just good friends...

Y/N' cheeks puffed out and she pouted her lip like an upset toddler. "Sans, please? Just this once?" She asked as she squeezed him into a tighter hug. Sans scoffed and shook his head.

"No! What am I, some pueny pawn? I will not sink that fucking low," Sans seethed. Y/N was silent for a few moments before simply letting go of her tight grip and going lip against Sans's back. She head remained on his shoulder and luckily his sweater cushioned the feel of his bones, making this a comfortable position.

"I like this much better," she said tiredly with a warm smile on her face. Sans was sitting on a rather large chair that he got in order to find better sleeping situations without sliding off it, but because he was sitting on the edge of the chair, Y/N could easily slide behind him. She sat on her knees that were either side of him and yet it was so comfortable for her. "You're more comfortable than a chair." Her voice got lower and softer each time he spoke but it didn't lose its sweetness once.

"Yeah, well I ain't no damn pillow Y/N. Get the hell off me... Hello?" He asked when he didn't get a response. He turned his head to face the girl and saw her completely emersed into the dream world. It's true that he couldn't see her eyes, but he still could tell. He sighed heavily and turned his head in front of him.

"Huh‐ Ah!-" Y/N shrieked as she was pushed into the freezing snow.

"Ahahaha!" Sans laughed hard as he watched Y/N freak out. "I told you I wasn't no damn pillow!" He laughed as he put his hands on his knees. Y/N whined she stood straight up and glared at him. She walked over to him with a pout on her lip and lightly punched his arm.

"Hmph!" Sans chuckled at her adorable attempt at being angry and bopper her nose rough enough to push her away a bit.

"Was that supposed to make me feel bad, human? Well lemme tell ya', that just won't do," Sans spoke as his smile grew cockier.

"I wasn't even trying to hurt you, so don't start that," Y/N retorted. Sans rolled his eyes while he kept up his cocky smile. He shrugged and pu

"Yeah, sure. You fists are as strong as a fly's. You couldn't hurt me, even if you tried," he pushed. Y/N hmphed and shook her head. She pulled her arm back and punched him right in the shoulder as hard as her tired arm could. Sans just snickered and didn't even flinch.

"Wait, was that the best you got? I heard you humans are supposed to be strong." Sans shrugged his shoulders before pulling his hands out of his pockets and stretching. "Whatever, I guess it doesn't matter all that much. If you ever did decide to attack me, it's not like you'd live long enough to be able to lay a hit on me. And anyone else down here would have no problem given all they got to some little girl."

"I'm 20."

"Doesn't matter," Sans said as he put his hands back in his pockets. Y/N sighed and shook her head.

"You know I wouldn't hurt anyone down here as much as I know you wouldn't hurt me, Sans," her soft replied. To be honest, his name being spoken so sweetly had a good ring to Sans' ears.

"Yeah, well you can't blame me for being cautious. You humans put us down here, remember? You humans murdered so many monsters for no fucking reason then trapped the rest of us down here with your strong souls as aid. Then a few fallen human children came down here and either murdered a little, a large portion, or one of us. Still, you humans seem to be naturally turned to a genocide even though you have fucking everything you can possibly want on the surface. Us monsters have nothing, not even a real sun or moon, to make us happy, so our rage is justified." Sans finished his train of thought with a scowl; he turned his head towards the snow building up on the ground and glared at it. Y/N frowned, holding her arms to her chest.

"...Hey, Sans. It stopped snowing, so we don't have to worry about a blizzard keeping us from going to Grillby's," Y/N said as she looked out of the post, finally noticing the snow had stopped falling.

"Why would I worry about a blizzard? I got a shortcut that'll get us there in no time," he smirked and looked up at her. Y/N cocked her head questioning, humming. "Just follow me, aight," he spoke as he walked behind the post. Y/N caught up with him in no time while holding the sides of the coat close to together instead of zipping it. The sleeves just hung by her sides as she still wanted Sans to wear the coat with her cuddling up behind him, mostly because she could still use the hoode that way.

As they walked up to a tree, suddenly, Sans chuckled. The next moment, they were at the doorway of Grillby's and the absorbed by heat and warm light. Y/N looked around her frantically and confused, "how did you do that?"

"Ya humans got strong souls, us monsters have magic," he explained with a cocky smile. "Now let's go sit down at the bar instead of the booth this time. That drunk bunny annoys the shit outta me," he mumbled the last part as he walked over to the bar with Y/N following.

As she passed the dogs, one of them called out, "wait, is that a human? Isn't that the one we fought before?" It was Dogamy who spoke out, then causing her husband to talk back.

"I think so, yes, the one that turned into a puppy that liked to pet other dogs!"

Y/N giggled tiredly as she sat down at the bar besides Sans, listening on their conversation a few seconds longer before returning her focus to Sans alone. "I want a burger," she mumbled.

"Aight," Sans replied. He signaled for Grillby to walk over after he finished making a drink for another customer. The being of purple fire had what looked like a jagged white frown for a mouth, and he wore a skintight black vest with a white undershirt with rolled up sleeves and black jeans as his attire. He vest was also low cut, so an outline of his chest was visible. Although he had a serious tone, he definitely seemed like he could flirt successfully to any person he wanted.

"What," Grillby's echoy voice rung. The purple fire that made up his body flickered and cracked, making Y/N smile from the satisfying sound.

"Two burgers, put it on my tab," Sans replied, leaning on the counter with a mustard bottle in his hand. Grillby wrote down his order and walked towards the kitchen door with a "fire onlt" sign on it. He walked inside the kitchen and came out with a drink; it was F/D, something Y/N typically ordered when she came to the bar. He set the drink down in front of her.

"On the house," Grillby spoke. Y/N smiled softly at him, thanking him. "Tch," he responded before tending to other costumers. Grillby didn't really like Y/N, but he appreciated the little work and silence she brought him. She only spoke when spoken to, and she didn't order things that were hella hard to make and then complain about it. Sans growled, rolling his eyes.

"Fucking simp," he hissed. Y/N tilted her head, humming.

"Hmm? Why?" Y/N asked before taking a sip if her drink.

"He's losin' money by given out free drinks. And of anyone, to you."

"Well," Y/N smirked sweetly. "I come here a lot and that attracts monsters who want to see the human. So by being tourist attraction, he makes more money," she explained. Sans scoffed, his cheeks reddening.

"Whatever." Aww, our bebe skeleboi is jealous of the big, tall, muscular fire dude! Y/N giggled, patting him on the shoulder.

"I really appreciate you bringing me here with you. When you decide to pay your tab, remind me to contribute enough money to help." Sans shrugged, smirking.

"People like you are too nice down here, really."

"It feels nice to help someone."

"It's not so nice when people try to kill you over it," Sans retorted. Y/N frowned, nodding.

"I guess I didn't grow up down here so there isn't much for me to say, but I can't help but think everyone down here is kind but hurt. I mean, there's a lot about you I noticed that aren't so...pleasant, but you managed to treat me like a person with emotions and opinions. I doubt that of hundreds, you're the only one down here like that," she explained. Sans sighed again, rubbing his eyes.

"Like I said, people like you are too nice down here." Sans finished the conversation this way and then came a long moment of silence. In that time, Grillby came over with two plates with burgers on them. He set them in front of the two.

"Here."

"Thank you, Grillby," Y/N thanked with a warm smile on her face. Grillby silently nodded at her before walking away. She grabbed the ketchup and poured some on her burger, whereas Sans barely acknowledged what was happening around him. He was getting caught up in his thoughts right now, a bit overwhelmed with them actually. Finally, he stood up and walked away from the bar, heading out the front door. Y/N hummed and took a bite of her burger, watching Sans leave.

She set her food down and ran after him, leaving the restaurant right when he did. "Is everything alright?" She asked worriedly, making Sans scowl.

"God, y'know, you gotta stop assuming something's wrong. I'm fine. And either way, I wouldn't tell you some edgy shit no one cares about," Sans replied. Y/N was silent at first, then she took off the coat she still had on. Her hair brushed over her eyes as she did that, making them impossible to see. She put the hood on top of Sans' head before wrapping her arms together coldly. "Why do you're eyes always do that?"

"Do what?" She asked.

"If they ain't covered by a hood, it's covered by your hair. If not your hair, someone's or something's blocking your face. If it's not that, then you're head it turned away from view. It's weird," Sans explained. Y/N hummed, not noticing that until now.

"Well... Do you want to see my eyes?" She asked as she brought her hands up. She was wearing one of Sans's red shirts, which sorta made this moment more cliche but who cares. Sans slowly nodded, curious. Then Y/N pushed her hair out of her face, revealing her normal looking E/C eyes. Well, aside from the kindness and care that laid within them. And it was that feature that hit Sans first.

"Woah," he mumbled, tuning his full body towards her. "That's beautiful!" Y/N giggled, making Sans' face redden. He opened his mouth to form a quick insult to her in order to make him seem like he didn't mean it, but Y/N spoke first.

"Thank you. Your eyes are very pretty as well. It has a nice color to it, too," she replied softly. Sans huffed silently, looking to the side.

"I, uh...thanks," he mumbled as he put his hand in his pockets. He sighed and put coat on right, burying his face in the hood fur. It was obvious that he was pretty flustered right now and reddened, as he did truly feel his chest warm when he was around Y/N. It was strange for him to feel this way so he typically pushed his feelings away and told himself that he was just her guardian per say. But he knew deep down in his heart it wasn't true.

"Look, I got something to say to you," Sans pushed more harshly then intended. "And I don't wanna hear any of this being told or heard by other monsters, got it? This is us and us alone, ya understand? This shit is hard to say, so..." he drifted off. The snow was started to pick up again, making the scene look more aesthetic.

Y/N nodded, listening to him closely when began talking. "This shit isn't said very often down here; no, it's not said at all actually. But you're human, and you have a different heart so..." he trailed off again, scratching the back of his head. He looked Y/N in the eyes and gave her a flustered glare like if he was embarrassed, which she took no offense to. "I don't just give anyone the right to take my coat, waste my time, bother me, stop me from sleeping, and more. It's just you and Boss, and even he has less power than you."

He continued after a deep breath. "And its not because you're human or I pity you. In fact, I couldn't care less if you're soul is strong, since I could still break it; I couldn't care less if you fell down here, since we're trapped down here too. I let you do because... it's like a bandaid, just gotta say it... I care about you. Not even like a sister or close friend, no, I mean if you were about to be shot, I would jump in front of bullet so you could liev put your life happily. I love you."

Y/N was silent, sorta just staring. Her whole body was shook, frozen, and in shock. She didn't even know what she just heard or if she was dreaming. She even forgot that she was freezing due to being too caught up in her feelings. Sans stood there silently for about 10 seconds as well, before he face-palmed and grew red jn embarrassment. That's when a tear escaped the corner of Y/N's eye and a large smile grew on her features.

"Sans," she replied sweetly as she walked over to him. She fell forwards on him and wrapped her arms around the inside of the coat, around his sweater. The embraced him tightly and said, "I love you too!" Sans felt his heart move a little and a new feeling wash over him. Without being able to control it, he felt a genuine smile grow on his face as he hugged her back tightly.

"I'm so...glad," he breathed out heavily, his nerves relaxing. The two stayed in that position for a while before eventually breaking off. Y/N pecked him on the cheek before grabbing his hand.

"We should go back inside, hehe. The food'll get cold," she said as she motioned to the door. Sans nodded nervously, chuckling.

"Yeah, and Grillby will be pissed if we wasted food. I don't wanna deal with that again." The two fo them walked inside the restaurant/bar, they started their way back to the bar. Yet when they got in, the bar was silent. I mean, the restaurant was pitch silent; not only that, but many eyes were on them as they walked in. Y/N completely ignored their exists' and sat down on the barstool, picked up her burger and ate it. Luckily was still warm. Sans on the other hand was hella nervous. No, he was fucking terrified.

Grillby walked over to the two and leaned forward, so than when he whispered, only they could hear. "The bunny chick saw you two hug and kiss. Just play it cool, and they'll forget all about it in a few days." Well shit, Sans thought. Boss is gonna kill me when he finds out.

Y/N just ate her burger in peace, not really caring if other people knew about them. After all, it's their choice to laugh about like a boy kindergartener complaining about holding hands with a girl because it means their "dating," or to hear about it and mind their own business.

[ac-liveblogs]

I cant believe that Ayato's grand plan to stop the wedding is to essentially march an army in and fake-occupy ritou. Instead of some fancy political maneuvering, he literally just drops the military in as a false threat. That's cutting off the nose to save the face isn't it?!?! (Especially for the Kanjou Commission, who now seem ambitious and violent. The only reading I can see is that its supposed to be Kamajis big sacrifice for his waifu. He gives up his reputation for her independence.)

Sad part is I did like the onscreen political maneuvering until it turned out that was the strat they were using. I was excited to find out how they were going to reframe the situation to their needs using symbols and information, not force. Sigh.

Also love that edo period sexism via exogenous marriage is canon to Inazuma now. it's realistic but it kinda clashes with the art and tone.

:) I wouldn't really call this 'political maneuvering'. I mean, Kanjou plotting aside, the sequence of events were Ayato noticing something was weird/disadvantageous to him, coming up with a completely correct hypothesis about it all, conveniently noticing some shady stuff happening, intervening (violently), threatens some people, solving everything off-screen (with the threat of violence)... profit!

There was no real delicacy involved on Ayato's part here, besides Ayato being a bit more verbose than usual and his threats being a bit more thinly veiled... ah, up until he threatens to do serious damage via a long-winded tongue-chopping metaphor, I guess. Twice. And figuring out what's even happening is down to Ayato's insanely accurate deduction.

Not that there's anything wrong with solving political issues with violence; it just... kinda has to make sense for the situation and characters? This isn't the kind of resolution that Ayato's own backstory implied he would come up with.

Ayato's great strength lies in his ability to handle such matters. The way he sees it, people are driven by interest. Find leverage, and the other side will cooperate.

Find some goal that will bring the other party around to your logic, then pacify them with a few choice platitudes for the occasion, and most problems can be resolved.

I see leverage here just means "violence". A little less impressive than ferreting out dirty secrets and doing some old-fashioned blackmail or bribery, that.

In sharp contrast, Kaeya lured a Fatui envoy into a basement so Diluc could torture him for intel (while I cannot definitively claim he would have survived this if not for Dottore, I somehow really doubt it). Diluc, reckless idiot, is driven by trauma, not logic. Kaeya, opportunistic sadist, purely has Mond's best interests in mind regardless of the cost and has both the means and motive to cover up any mess that may result. I can live with the lack of subtlety here! Diluc wears cosplay to do murder!

(God I miss early Mondstadt. Imagine how cool Mondstadt would be if they used the webtoon and character stories as a basis for the plots there. God can HYV please remember kaeya is meant to be a bastard sadist please god i am begging you)

Ayato, on the other hand, a supposed a political mastermind that salvaged his own clan from complete ruin via 'extraordinary courage and some first-rate tactics', immediately resorts to the threat of violence.

ok.

I still liked Ayato outright saying he doesn't see the point in investigating strange occurrences if they prove beneficial. Real tactical mastermind, that one. HYV, if you can't write smart people, stop writing mysteries, I am begging you.

Also yes! I also liked Inazuma's outrageous sexism, and also Ayato talking about how Chisato's life would be overrrr if she got married. It's very funny when Girlboss Island is the most sexist nation so far. Inazuma, country of eternity, including the preservation of gender inequality, I guess.

(2) Also did they really not give Ayato a fancy cutscene? Did Yelan and Dainsleif steal Ayatos cutscene for their archon quest??? Am I misremembering that every 5 star story quest gets a fancy cutscene except Ayatos? Or the worst option: was ayatos cutscene so lame it looked exactly like an in game model cutscene?

Oh, there was one! It's when you enter the Kamisato Estate and he's playing shogi - sorry, chess - with Thoma. It was kinda lame.

[g4rous]

Sunlit memories (Garou x Reader)

tags: fem! Reader, no warnings lol, this is just the first chapter a.k.a the introduction

words: 1.1k

notes: ok so this is the first chapter of the series that I plan to write, so pls feel free to give me some feedback on this and whether you like it and should I continue :'0 💕 Thanks a lot for any kind of support ee 💗

series masterlist

Chapter one

Playful footsteps scattered across the freshly-cut grass, followed by a few equally spirited barks. Whether the small chocolate-colored dog was chasing the ball or the children lay undetermined, nonetheless they all seemed amused. A mother stood next to the gleeful dog owner, both exchanging chuckles and commenting on how adorable the sight in front of them is. Above them dozens of birds filled the air with a familiar amicable tune, as if the soothing music coming from a nearby café wasn’t enough. The park was never lonely, yet so pleasant at the same time. All those chirps, chatters and noises were like an extra spark, and frankly it’d be rather uncanny if it weren’t for them and the pastel sky above, radiant with soft hues. Cases where belligerent monsters ruined the harmony were rare, although enough to cause one to succumb to unease. Be that as it may, people always push through it and find a reason to enjoy the now sunlit park.

Though, while it was interesting to observe the scenery it wasn’t quite what you were looking for. Fiddling with the pencil in your hand, you stared displeased at the blank page of your sketchbook.

“Why isn’t there anything interesting today?” you pondered, eyes impatiently shifting over the scenery.

Almost every day for the past few weeks you’ve been sitting at this very bench, looking out for something eye-catching to draw. It’s funny how you coincidentally came across your now daily go-to place, a surprisingly comfy wooden bench underneath two large oaks, their treetops creating enough shade for another twenty people. Luckily you had your own peace there without anyone bothering you.

“Hmm… Maybe I just don’t feel like drawing people?”

After a small sigh you leaned against your hand and looked up at the treetops. The sky turned golden already, painting the leaves in shades of olive and amber. Your eyes steadily trailed down to the path next to the old oaks, now noticing a small patch of lilies that with their vivid hues and delicate form drew you in almost immediately.

“Huh. Maybe I should just go for something simple and quick?”

Well, that was what you though right before something else caught your eye. Someone to be exact. A few meters away a rather peculiar-looking guy sat on a bench. He leaned against the bench leisurely while folding his arms, his tight black shirt complementing his muscular built. His gaze was relaxed, albeit alert, and his features were sharp. Sunlight peeked on his wild, silver hair, coloring it with subtle sandy hues almost matching with the golden in his eyes.

Now, if this didn’t give you inspiration then what did? And here you thought you’d be drawing those lilies. You sighed in content, stretching your arms for a few seconds before you got to work. Subtly glancing at his direction from time to time, you had already outlined the portrait. Though, truth be told, he had such a pretty face you were trying not to stare at one point.

“What are you doing?”

You didn’t even manage to let go of your pencil before an unknown voice jolted you out of your thoughts. Much to your bewilderment you looked up to see that same man now only half a meter away, glaring at you.

“Well shit.”

Should you apologize or straight up act like you weren’t just secretly drawing some random person? Or better yet, how the hell is that same person in front of you right now? You were embarrassed as much as you were confused and to make things worse the drawing wasn’t even in your sketchbook anymore.

“Are you a hero or something? I don’t remember seeing you anywhere.” the man asked, shifting his gaze from the drawing in his hand to you.

“Hey when did you take that?!” you finally spoke, an apology being far from your mind at the moment.

On one hand it could be legitimate since you didn’t ask for permission to draw him in the first place, but on the other… What kind of punk would just rip the piece out like that?

“If you’re some c-class dunce trying to gather info on me with this-“, he grinned, still analyzing the art piece “-you’re gonna be sorry pretty soon.”

“Dude I’m not a hero.”

“Wait, what?”

That threatening, cocky grin of his from a moment ago dissipated into thin air like it was nothing, but your confused expression on the other hand only grew bigger. Was he serious?

A soft shade of pink made its way to his face for a brief moment, to which you almost chuckled.

“So you’re seriously not a hero?”

“Um, no..?”

“Your luck.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” He headed the opposite direction of you, drawing still in hand.

“Ahh so… can I get that back now please?” you walked behind him, surprised he’s oh so casually trying to leave the scene after such odd behavior.

“Nope, sorry.”

“Aw what, why??”

“Let’s just say it isn’t convenient for me at the moment to have that lying around wherever,” he put both hands in his pockets, “plus I didn’t say you could draw me did I?”

Now your face turned red in embarrassment again. He was right… Though, you still couldn’t help but wonder who this strange guy is. While tearing that drawing out of your valued sketchbook didn’t make for the best first impression, his demeanor wasn’t really belligerent either.

“Ah, sorry about that… However I must say it wasn't polite to take the drawing away like that either.”

His eyes slightly widened in embarrassment before turning away his face again.

"Eh..."

"Don't worry about it though," you smiled for a moment, "I guess it was just a weird misunderstanding or something."

Your eyes shifted on the path you were walking on, already dim because of the now darker sky, “if I may ask, is someone like… searching for you or something?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he glanced back at you, “why are you still following me anyway!? Just go home it’s getting dark.”

“Well, this is the way I take in order to get back home so you can’t really complain,” you smiled to his mild annoyance.

The night sky engulfed the city by now, leaving behind a tranquil atmosphere. Nonetheless, compared to the center of the city, your street wasn’t as bustling. Light shone from the surrounding apartments and lamp posts, and the only sounds present were from the neighbors’ TV’s or the occasional car passing by, much in contrast with the city’s center and night life.

You didn’t ask many more questions as you walked, despite the faint haze in your mind. The man obviously wasn’t too chatty, yet alone keen on sharing any personal details. Be as it may, much to your surprise what you thought would be an awkward walk was actually somewhat refreshing. Hell, you even let out a laugh or two together. Who would’ve thought the on-first-glance intimidating teen is pleasant to be around? Or, well, at least you thought of it like that. In any case way better than walking through those dark alleys alone.

next chapter