#he is so transparent its so painful he is so open how can she handle it

[dailykafka]

Head in my hands…

[riri0rion]

wounds & kisses.

synopsis: love and deepspace boys’ reaction when you accidentally hurt yourself.

w.c: 2.8k. (intro: approx.500; 500 — 600 per character)

warning[s]: a bit of blood, use of she/her.

note[s]: sorry if they are ooc, also english isn’t my first language so it might be bad.

𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈;

the moon hung high above the world, irradiating the few places within its reach with the silvery radiance it managed to provide. the view outside remained monotonous for anyone courageous enough to try to conquer the scenery with eyes littered by gloomy marks of fatigue under a wavering gaze: no lamps from windows giving no view inside any establishment, display cabinets devoid of articles, filled with naked mannequins. it almost made the place look desolate, if not for the few cars roaring softly on an unoccupied road.

already, the night announced itself as unbothered by any events or perturbed by the grotesque view of any sort of crime. a peacefulness as this one was far in between, and any soul burdened enough by life itself would know how to be lulled to sleep by the rustling of the leaves against barely open windows, letting inside of their own dinky haven the comfortable noise of crickets wandering around in the uneven blades of grass.

and yet, in a certain accommodation, wood creaked under the careful footsteps of an individual. mindful enough to not awaken the other person sleeping comfortably in bed, probably dreaming of another lifetime holding the hand of the fated one.

entering the kitchen, she made no attempt to turn on any light, overestimating her blurry memories of the place and the locality of all objects alike in the only dimly lit kitchen. with the curtains closed, the moonlight barely entered the room, making it appear more eerie than it should. only after surveying the four corners in search of any kind of threat, as minuscule as one can be, did her attention switch towards the few cabinets hanging against the freshly painted walls.

reaching over, she hesitantly felt the small wooden doors in search of the handle, and once within reach, opened the first one without as much of a hassle. to her grandest luck, she found an empty glass sitting on the front row — a small thought from her beloved who knew of her midnight cravings happening more than once during the entirety of a week.

taking it, she closed the furniture without as much of a noise and stepped closer to the counter. deliberate and slow movements taking her quicker than expected towards the desired path. but to her biggest dismay, her own calculation of the distance left was wrong, and the second her fingers left the glass, it fell on the floor, creating a small ruckus in the once calm silence of the house.

she crouched down with a myriad of curses escaping her dry lips, and tried to clean it. but her hand slipped over the glass, and blood dripped on the floor as a gash appeared in her palm. at the same moment, the sound of the switch echoed as the darkness dissipated, and her gaze met the one of her beloved.

rubbing his eyes, still plagued by the sleepiness deeply rotten into his own system, 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 allowed himself the vulnerability of expressing his feelings with a not so graceful yawn. at least, he had the decency of covering his mouth during the act.

once satiated enough, his saxe colored eyes met those of his lover, crouching down near bloodied shards of glass with a hand holding the injured one.

he got down on one knee next to her, and offered a hand. as she allowed him access to the wounded limb by handing him her hand, his thumb gently brushed around the edges of the blood. some of it had the nerve to stain his digit, and yet he did nothing at all to wash it away for now, creating a contrast between the vibrant hue and the almost transparency of his skin.

the gesture was not much at first, but as the pain finally started to settle, she found herself secretly thankful enough for his care as the soothing motion distracted her mind from the burning sensation.

his hand gently came in contact with the lower part of her back, and he was careful enough as she got back up on her feet, taking a few more steps around the destroyed object on the floor to avoid any sort of contact with it. walking closer to the faucet, he halted his own movements to lean down, delivering a small kiss on the sweaty forehead of his lover.

“it’s going to hurt a bit, squeeze my hand if you want. or hit me.” the almost nonchalance in his tone, only laced with the slightest ounce of concern, urged a smile on those features he always gave himself the freedom to admire. never once did he forget such a face, even after centuries.

gently, he wrapped an arm around her waist, and brought her back against the softness of his cardigan. a comfortable linen made with the most expensive materials and embroidered with only the customer’s satisfaction and comfort in mind. and as she snuggled closer back against him, he let his head fall over her shoulder, his hand slipping under her top to massage the skin. a smile appeared on his facial features when he felt her own unscathed hand place itself above his.

with his hand free of anything, he turned the handle a bit, setting it on the colder side, but also not freezing. and finally he opened the water, letting it flow nicely into the sink.

his fingers went back to tenderly hold the injured hand, holding it under the cool water as it splashed against the wound. he felt a small switch, as well as a meek tremble coming from his lover. as a reassurance, his dry lips found themselves on her neck, delivering a small trail of kisses from the joints between the neck and shoulder, all the way up to the corner of her lips. he knew he had won when a small giggle left this pretty person he had adored so intimately in the past.

and his current embrace was a reminder that he will continue to do so for the foreseeable future. no matter if someone plucks his eyes out with a spoon, he will keep all those memories to dream during the night, and to remember during the day.

with a kiss as missable as a ghost on her mouth, he talked in hushed whispers close to her. “let’s go back to bed, i’ll make breakfast tomorrow.” another kiss on the forehead, and after carefully drying the now damp skin, they headed back to the confine and safety of their bedroom. the glass still broken on the floor laid there, motionless and tainted with crimson. in the morning, when she stepped into the kitchen, it was nowhere to be seen, with the hunter making some coffee.

before she could even blink, 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄’s slippers appeared into view, and what appeared to be a nervous noise escaped her throat as he crouched down next to her.

with a single gesture of his hand, he silently wondered for consent to touch the bleeding limb, and he got it as the back of her hand ended up against his palm. his skin was freezing cold, constantly, but it felt even worse right now for some unknown reasons. it was partially soothing.

getting back up to his feet, he brought up his lover with him. his hand left hers to instead rest around her waist to gently urge them towards one of the stools in the kitchen, making her sit down. with a hand, he ruffled the messy strands standing on top of her head, teasingly reassuring her as he walked around the counter to access the sink.

he took out a small towel from one of the cabinets and drenched it in cool water. squeezing it, some of the drops ended up rolling down his arm, making the skin glisten before he walked over back to her. taking hold of her wrist, he placed the towel slowly over the wound, eyes remaining focused on her face to see if any frown appeared. a small scowl made its way up there once the towel was almost fully placed down, and he leaned forward to place a small kiss between her furrowed eyebrows. the expression relaxed at the gesture.

“is that alright ?” his voice barely broke through the silence of the room, his fingers still moving around over the damped warmth of the soft material to adjust it carefully, rendering her comfort a priority.

his eyes went back up towards her eyes, their gazes met, and for some moments she found herself lost in the vibrant forest in his eyes. memories of sneaking out with the lover of sweets during their youth resurfacing like a tide rising from the depths of the ocean. hand in hand, pointing at unknown flowers, all of different hues creating a rainbow in the mortal realm. they had almost reached that paradise, their own garden of eden.

eventually, she was pulled out of her reveries by a macaroon being halfway slipped into her mouth. biting down, she used her free hand to hide her lips as she ate, and the doctor wasted no time eating down the other half. “isn’t that unhealthy ?” the teasing tone in her weary voice could not be mistaken. “you would be surprised to learn that sugar can be a replacement for antibiotics.” he stated matter of fact, as if it was an usual knowledge everyone had access to. she did not know if his words rang true or a mere joke to alleviate his own worries.

“stay here, i’ll clean the glass.” her eyes simply followed along as he walked away to get the broom, his footsteps echoing through the silent hallway. her hand merely remained above the towel, applying enough pressure to tend to the wound still stinging.

the rest of the night was firstly spent cleaning the small mess, before he offered her a glass of milk without breaking the cup this time — he used one made of cardboard to ensure no further wound would be inflicted. after that, he cleaned the wound more thoroughly and bandaged it before heading back to bed. his evol helped keep the pain at bay during the entirety of the night.

“did you decide to paint the floor ? blood is not a good pigment you know.” the voice of the artist resonated through the unmoving space, his eyes showing an uncertain vulnerability at the view of blood.

with a sigh, he stepped closer and bent down to his lover’s level, assessing the situation with his eyesight only. understanding such a situation without any words was not using too much brain power: his beloved on the floor holding a bleeding hand, a broken glass on the floor also bloodied.

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 shook his head, finding amazement in all the different ways she managed to hurt herself with harmless objects from the daily. last time, she found a way to almost poke her own eye with the end of a paintbrush, and the time before that, she was this close to burning her hand by wishing to hold the frying pan on the stove without any protection. talk about an idiot. his idiot, without a doubt.

“you said you needed red paint to finish your painting…?” the attempt at turning this situation into a mere joke was deplorable, even if the courage could be honored.

rolling his eyes, he helped her back up on her feet without a single fuss, a strange silence overcame him and left the place lacking his constant bickering over her every movement. she enjoyed his voice after all, it sounded like waves gently crashing against the beach. a siren’s last song as she whistled down into her own demise.

“are you angry ?” from the corner of his eyes, he looked back at her, a certain frown etched upon his facial features. it almost looked like a child’s pout, an offense to his own self.

looking away, he turned on the water from the faucet, putting his own hand under it to wait for the perfect temperature. “no. just amazed by your lack of self preservation.” here it was back again, that small flame that flickers within his soul. a reminder of all he had lost and all he would continue to see slipping away from his grasp.

long ago, he promised to never have her be hurt again. and here he was, tending to a wound inflicted upon her by a broken glass. his own beloved bride not even remembering who he was, but still back in his arms as his heart laid bare for her to amuse herself with.

as he tended the wound, feeling the small trembling of her hand and spotting in the edges of his eyesight her lips turned into a line, a small smile appeared on his face and he bent down a bit to deliver a kiss on her lips. kissing her cheek afterwards to feel the heat slowly worsening at the affectionate gesture. “now you’re the one that’s angry.”

as she rolled her eyes herself, he placed his forehead against hers, witnessing the frown dissipating to be replaced by a smile blossoming on her features. “here, a fishy to keep you company while I clean your mess.” he sent her off with a dismissive wave of his hand, only to find her cuddled up against his pillow with the blue marine creature nestled against the wound.

laying down behind her unmoving body, he felt the steady breathing against his chest. one arm around her waist to make sure she won’t flee away again, and he cupped her other hand gently, warming it up carefully.

with an annoyed sigh, 𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 walked closer to the scene. wasting no time, and wishing that he could go back to sleep soon enough, he bent down. wrapping an arm around her back and pushing the other under her knees.

“hold on tight, sweetie.” without hesitation, he pulled her up. an almost offended shriek left her, and she hit his chest with her undamaged hand, only making him smirk and chuckle slowly under his breath at the action that served no real purpose.

she could deny it all she wanted in her cute little head, but she enjoyed it deeply in the hidden confines of her heart. he enjoyed it too, feeling her arms around his neck for support and by the internal turmoil of being dropped to the floor suddenly. what an idea filled with stupidity, he will never drop her. not in a hundred lifetimes.

with a certain gentleness that she had no clue he possessed, he sat her down on the counter. his eyes taking in her slightly disbelieved appearance to try and spot any other blood anywhere else. the sternness in his scarlet eyes seemed to momentarily disappear for some moments, a sort of unknown relief that it was only her hand and that her body would continue to function properly.

firstly, he stepped closer to the windows, feet dragging to the floor wearily as he pushed one of them open to let some air flow in the room. and with an expertise of where everything was, he pulled out a first aid kit hidden under the sink.

“how many of those are there all around ? it’s the fifth i see.” his gaze did not go back to her face, remaining on the small bag as he took out whatever was necessary for properly cleaning up the injury. yet, he still delivered an answer. “guess.” she rolled her eyes, and his smugness could only go up as if this reaction stroked his ego by itself.

as he stepped closer, she plopped her head against his shoulder, reluctantly showing her palm up as it was illuminated by the lights of the room. wrapping an arm around her, his hand barely used any strength on her forearm, simply keeping her hand unmoving as he tended to the blood.

while cleaning the skin, a soft hum started to leave him. the sound in itself was not the greatest, and if she expressed as much, it would be nothing short of flattering. but a nostalgia remained, even as she did not remember learning it anywhere. and she found herself reminiscing of a life that isn’t theirs anymore, a reality in which, perhaps, losing themselves has been for greater good, as they found each other in this world all over again, rediscovering a forgotten symphony between their hearts.

some time went by before he was eventually done, throwing to the bin the used patches and bandages stained with crimson. putting back the first aid kit under the sink. before going to clean the broken pieces himself, he opened a random cabinet and pulled out another glass and a plate. from the refrigerator was also taken out some things, and he quickly placed next to her some pastries and a glass of milk.

she wasted no time in eating it, remaining unaware of his eyes training to her figure on the counter more than once as he took care of the mess. he could get used to this, this normal way of living. only with her, certainly.

[arundolyn]

do you mind if i ask how you rip guilty gear animations? ive been wanting to get into ripping however there are very limited resources and few accounts are active that still rip. advice is very appreciated, thank you:)

just realized how stupid long this got right before posting so . cut

the way i do it for strive is, via unverum just for ease of use bc you can flip mod on/off at will before opening the game, get the mods that change the background of ajatar hunting ground to black/green/blue (i think it's by ultima?) and use the color of your choice (usually i use blue because black can screw with the outlines and green can cause weird lighting issues. blue can as well but it seems the least invasive of all of them to me, you can only really notice on stuff like zato bc eddie comes out sorta bluish bc he's translucent. there may be mods to help with that kind of thing but i havent looked)

pick whatever characters you want and go to training mode (unless you need something specific, like win/lose poses, of course. if it has to be during a fight you can just go to local vs with a controller and make the other character your keyboard so you dont actually have to fight) and record with OBS. pick whatever settings you think look best graphically both in strive and on OBS, idk if i can advise with those choices too well bc my hardware is beefy enough to handle max settings for stuff, ymmv

after recording, go to photoshop (doesnt matter what version, mine is ancient and ill gotten gains ive had for years. find your means. use something similar. idk) just drag the video in (no need to import it any special way) and literally just. go frame by frame copying the stuff from the animation you want into a new file and after you have all the frames go and erase it by hand. i usually use the magic eraser thing on around 50 tolerance (may need to be adjusted at times) and with anti aliasing (just cause i like the outlines not to be smooth, that also can make the "sprites" transparent and have an ugly white outline around it in gifs, do whatever you think looks good) and contiguous unchecked (contiguous just so that you dont have to go around clicking every blue/green/black spot individually, as that takes much longer. sometimes this cant be avoided, like if your character has colors too close to the background or an effect you want to keep is too close to the background color youre erasing)

additional mods i use at times are ones that turn certain characters im not focusing on invisible (like chipp or i-no, cant remember who made that one) just so i dont have to worry about cropping around another character if they do an idle animation or something, and theres one that disables lighting effects (like gio's glowies when she has full meter, or certain moves like baiken's dust or tsurane sanzu watashi) so that the gifs look nicer devoid of the like... engine based context. of that makes sense

as for XRD, i used to use a cheat table camera mod for rev that was kinda adapted from the one for sign, but since the rollback update it looks like its broken and i dont think anyone has cared much to fix it, but also havent had the time to mess around with it myself. the sign one might still work? theres a reddit thread with it out there somewhere still i think. be warned re: sign tho bc the models are kinda janky and lower quality, which probably isnt noticeable to most people but its definitely glaring to me when i moved from sign to rev. they did some major improvements on like everyone in rev

last but not least, a word of caution regarding certain things. i'd warn against trying to do any overdrives or anything that has a superflash (when the camera focuses on the character using a move, usually, like jack-o's forever elysion driver) or the strive pre move cutscene things (like baiken's tsurane sanzu watashi) as well as intro/outro cutscenes, since making them transparent not only will be a pain in the ass but probably would look weird due to the camera movement + lack of background. same goes for stuff like bursts or walk/run cycles where the character moves significantly and the camera angle might change, since not only will it be a bitch to line up correctly so it loops properly, but if the character's location or the camera angle changes it might end up looking off because the model is being viewed from a slightly different angle. not sure how obvious that would be to someone who didnt Do it but ive learned that through trial and error. might also just be perfectionism on my part. id usually get around this on xrd with the cheat table bc you could lock the model in place (but it would still move technically, which was nice if you didnt want effects like the little dust clouds when you dash getting in the way) but ive never seen anything similar for strive. from what i know it should be possible for sure, just slightly tricky to some extent and i dont really know how one would go about doing that or have the time to learn. the console for UE is locked in strive and idk if theres a way to unlock it, but that would potentially be a way to freeze models in place quick and dirty if necessary. there ARE a few camera mods out there for strive, but any model freezing aspects are just like.. full game pause, not frozen in place.

hope this is comprehensive enough to help somewhat. have a slayer

[the-untamed-obsession]

AAA- Changes of Regret h u r t-!! It was so good,,, qwq If it's alright, may I request the reader being brought back to life post Guanyin Temple? Kinda like a continuation but our poor Xichen finally gets some sort of happiness. Stay safe!<3

Haiii!! I kinda couldn’t resist 😅 I hope you like it! It’s longer than the original!

Side note: Alessia and Scarlett are my OCs! They’re my good ocs ^w^

PART 1 HERE

Word count: 2.4k

Changes of Regret II

“It’s here.” The blue-haired woman mentioned as she tapped on a headstone. There were small wisps around her that lit up the extremely dark cemetery. “(Y/n)’s buried here.”

“Thank you, Alessia.” Scarlett spoke as she touched the large headstone. She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and smiling. Both women stood back as Alessia waved her hands, causing a burst of energy to destroy the headstone and creating a large opening right above the coffin.

With her magic, Alessia was able to lift the coffin out of its grave and placed it on the ground. She tore the top off, allowing Scarlett to look inside. Her gentle green eyes scanned your features before a smile appeared on her face.

“Perfect.” Reaching down, Scarlett’s hand touched your chest, a golden glow starting to emit from the touch. It glowed brighter and brighter, outshining the wisps Alessia had. The said mage watched from behind, ready to help in case anything went wrong.

Scarlett had been practicing Necromancy for a long while and her ultimate goal was to revive a corpse to its original form. She wanted no negative effects of the summoning which were prone to happen due to the nature of such rituals.

The glow finally started to dim, transferring to Scarlett’s eyes instead. The light was almost blinding in the final moments of the spell. Finally, she pulled away and watched you; Alessia joining seconds later.

“Did it work?” The mage inquired as the two stared down at your form. Your fingers twitched before your eyes shot open, glowing a bright pink before returning to their normal color.

“Yes. It worked.”

***

It had been about two years since you were brought back from the dead. The entirety of that time was given to Scarlett as she took care of you while you recovered. There had been two main problems with being brought to life. One unexpected side effect with bringing someone back to life was the healing process. Yes, even you needed to heal.

The typical healing time depended on the person. Children often took four to five years to fully heal, while adults took one to two. Your healing process lasted a little over a year and a half. You learned how to walk, talk, eat, and co-exist with others. Although it seemed rather simple, you had a very hard time readjusting.

The other problem was the lack of memories. As you started to heal, you realized you knew nothing of the past. Not one memory surfaced the entire time. Alessia had promised once you were fully healed and ready to go, she’d help bring them back. Until then, you only knew one thing. Your name.

Currently, you and Scarlett were making your way to Alessia. You had been fully healed for about three days now and as promised, Alessia wanted to help recover your memories. The walk from Scarlett’s home to Alessia’s was a little over five minutes.

“We’re here.” Scarlett announced, as she entered the home. She never knocked but her friend never seemed to care. Alessia came out and greeted you two with a bright smile.

“Today’s the big day! Are you excited?” You mirrored her smile and nodded, letting her lead you into another room. Scarlett waited outside, knowing this was private matters, and although she was like your mother this entire time, she knew some things were just too personal.

You laid down on the bed that Alessia had prepared while she sat down on the chair beside you.

“Close your eyes and clear your mind.” She instructed as she held her hands over your form. You obeyed her and did your best to not think of anything. Warmth wrapped around your form and your mind started to feel fuzzy. You felt so tired… almost as if you were about to fall asleep. You wanted to warn Alessia, but found yourself too exhausted to do so.

Instead, you fell into a deep slumber. It took a few seconds before you felt your feet hit the ground and when you opened your eyes, you found yourself in an unrecognizable garden. There were many small wisps flying around, some even twirling and dancing around you. You giggled and reached out to touch them, when a particular wisp flew up to you.

It felt so… familiar. To the point where you’d forgotten about the others and followed where it attempted to lead you. You followed it through the garden and to a large door. It was connected to nothing, just a doorframe in the middle of the pathway. The wisp stopped at the door handle and you assumed it wanted you to walk through.

You followed its instructions, entering a forest. As you followed down the path with the wisp, you saw small visions. Were… these your memories?

“Wei Wuxian! Nice to meet you!”

“I’m (y/n)! It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, young master Wei.”

That… was Wei Wuxian. Your best friend… someone you’d give your life for. Literally. You walked up to his transparent figure, his smiling bringing a sense of nostalgia and melancholy to your heart.

The wisp garnered your attention once more and led you further down the path, where you saw another vision.

“You must be (y/n), it’s nice to meet you.”

“Y-you’re Lan Xichen! One of the Twin Jades of Lan!”

His humble chuckle sent a wave of butterflies through your stomach. His handsome smile made your cheeks light up, but his voice made your heart ache. Why? What happened?

You followed the wisp further into the forest, coming upon yet another vision. This… was Wei Wuxian. He seemed… different from the first vision. Why… were you guarding him?

“Stay back!”

“Get away from him, (y/n)! He’s the Yiling Patriarch!”

“I… I know. But I won’t allow you to hurt him!”

What? Who was the Yiling Patriarch? As you thought that, your mind answered your own question. He became the Yiling Patriarch when he was thrown into the Burial Grounds, where he’d go on to invent Demonic Cultivation.

Why… did you defend him?

You placed a hand on your chest and closed your eyes, seeking the answer. No less than two seconds later, you had it.

Loyalty.

You and Wei Wuxian were fiercely loyal to each other. No matter what, Wei Wuxian always protected you and you protected him. You stood by his side, no matter what. Even when Lan Wangji had started to question him, even when he abandoned the Yunmeng Jiang Clan, even when he’d accidentally killed Jin Zixuan, when he’d ultimately lost control of Wen Ning, you were always there to help him. In turn, no matter what, Wei Wuxian strived to keep you safe and sound.

Then what happened? Why did you hurt like this? You knew you died for him… but what happened?

As you continued to follow the wisp, you came across another vision.

“Don’t do this, (y/n)!” Lan Xichen begged, but you’d looked away.

“I’m sorry. I’ve made up my mind. I’m staying with Wei Wuxian… goodbye.”

You watched your transparent figure leave and when you looked at Lan Xichen, you felt your heart shatter. The look of pure agony and pain in his eyes as he watched you leave brought everything back.

That’s right. You’d abandoned your boyfriend because your loyalty to Wei Wuxian was stronger. You knew you’d hurt him, but at the same time you felt he understood. It still hurt to think about.

The further down the path you went, the more memories you unlocked. Towards the end, you found the same door you did at the beginning. The wisp touched the handle and you reached out to touch it. Instead of it walking you through, however, it vanished. You looked back at the forest with solemn eyes before walking through the door.

Who knew your past had been so lonely and broken?

***

“You’re awake.” You blinked to get the haze out of your eyes before looking at Alessia. “Did you recover all your memories?” You nodded as certain memories rushed back at you. Already, your cheerful demeanor had been crushed.

“Did… you see?”

“No, I can’t. I can just help bring them back… but I can tell from your face it wasn’t pretty.” You shook your head and sat up.

“I… have to go see someone. Now.”

“Ok, let’s go.” With that, you three were off. You knew exactly where to go and you hoped he was still there. Your Xichen. It was a long journey, one where you contemplated turning back numerous times. You were scared. What would he say? What would he do? What… would happen to him?

It had been about three years since your death, added with the two years from the recovery period, you had been “dead” for five years. How was Xichen now? Did he move on? Was he married? There had been so much that had happened and the way you died without being able to tell him everything you wanted sent a deep sense of regret through you. But you wouldn’t quit. No, you would see him and you would explain everything to him.

If by the end of it he wanted you to disappear and never return, you would do so. If he wanted you to stay, you would do so. You’d only hoped it would end well and that all of your worries were just that.

“We’re here.” Scarlett announced as she stopped. You three stood at the base of the mountain, one that was so familiar to you even though you hadn’t seen it in your new life. You remembered many memories here, but only one stuck out at you.You looked at the two women behind you who gave you a supportive smile.

“Go on. We’ll be here when you get back.” Alessia smiled, with a little wave.

“Take care and don’t be scared.” Scarlett added, patting your head. You gave them a bright smile and nodded before running off up the stairs. You couldn’t wait any longer. You had to see him.

***

Xichen sat at the table, his eyes glancing over the letter he’d been sent a few days ago. It had been expressing concerns about recent events that had taken place nearby, all relating to demonic activity. He sighed, feeling the stress build up. The paper slipped from his hand and fell onto the ground, but he didn’t care to pick it up.

He stared out the window, seeing a cloud rolling by. Immediately, his mind left from his current concerns and to some fantasy world. He daydreamed about you often. Even now, years later, nothing had changed. Xichen was the same mess as before. He was clumsy, unable to concentrate on anything, and often had to be forced to do any work. Even then, any progress he made was either painstakingly slow or none at all.

Xichen had given up all efforts in trying to heal. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to get better, he didn’t want to move on, he didn’t want to try and become what he used to be. He wanted you and nothing else, unfortunately, he couldn’t have you.

He barely registered the door opening, someone walking in, and sitting down in front of him. He just stared off into the distance as your smiling face came into his mind. He did his best to remember you, never wanting to face the day where he couldn’t recall what you’d looked like.

Finally, a hand waved in front of his face, making him blink back into reality. He sighed and looked at the person in front of him. At the sight, he was immediately startled.

You sat there with a look of concern on your face. You moved a little closer, slowly in fear of him moving away, but he didn’t react at all.

“Are you ok, Xichen?” You… sounded exactly the same.

He’d lost it. Xichen had officially lost it and now he was hallucinating. Great, as if he couldn’t get any worse. But… was that so bad? He’d lost interest in life the day you left him, so what did it matter now?

At least now it felt like you were here, that you were real. When you smiled at him, his heart fluttered like never before. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheeks. They were warm.

“(y/n)...” he murmured as he looked over your features repeatedly. If you were a hallucination then that meant you’d disappear soon. He had to make sure he studied every inch of your face before you left him again.

“Xichen… you’ve given up.” You whispered, making him look away shamefully.

“I… don’t care. I don’t want anything. I don’t care for anything. I just needed you.” This is what you’d done to him. You’d taken a powerful, kind, graceful man and turned him into… nothing. Although it wasn’t on purpose, you couldn’t help but feel responsible. Both of you had made mistakes, but this was never the outcome you’d imagined.

You knew Xichen never blamed you, he just wasn’t like that. You were positive even now he didn’t blame you. But you blamed yourself. Someone needed to be held responsible for this...

“I’m here now,” you said, taking his face in your hands, “I’m back so I want you to come back too. I want you to be the same as you were before.” He shook his head with a sad smile.

“You’re not back. You’re… just a hallucination. You’ll disappear and it’ll be like I lost you all over again.”

“I’m real! Look!” You took his hand and placed it on your chest, where he could feel your heart beating. That was… odd. He must’ve really lost it if you were this real.

However, his negative thoughts were crushed when he heard the door open. In ran his brother, Lan Wangji, who stared at you with wide eyes.

“(Y/n)...” he whispered as he fell to his knees beside you. He took you by the shoulders and stared at you with pure shock. “You’re alive… you’re actually alive.” He looked at his brother who seemed to be just as surprised. Up until now, he hasn’t even considered the idea of you actually being alive. He genuinely believed he had gone crazy.

“It’s r-real?” The broken question pained your heart but you nodded. Lan Wangji nodded too, confirming the “hallucination” was indeed real.

“I’m real, Xichen. I’m real.” Almost instantly, you were taken into his arms and he held you so tightly. You had many questions about what had happened since your death, but they could wait until later.

Right now, you two just needed… this. You needed to be close to each other. Especially Xichen. He needed to be reminded that you were actually here and that you wouldn’t leave him again.

[mha-princess]

Don’t Let Me Be | Bakugou x Reader

Genre:Angst | Tea Shop AU | stranger to lovers | Oneshot/Ongoing | eventual smut

Word Count: 1.2k+

Warnings: mentions of depression/sadness/sickness

Summary: as the seasons change you stand at the counter unmindful and aloof, but when a boy enters the shop you cease your boredom and take his order. But every second he draws. closer an overwhelming sadness fills the room. Interested by him to try your best to befriend him a figure why this boy is so sad.

A/N: just like my previous oneshots if you would like me to continue this story a comment, reblog, or a like is appreciated! ⁍̴̆◡⁍̴̆ )⊃♡- Anako

Song recommendation for this fic - Song Request by Lee Sora

The faint scent of boiling herbs filled the small oak shop as the last reminants of winter faded away outside of its wooden walls. A slow somber ballad flowed from the small speaker at the back of the shop, filling the space with a indescribable melencholy. The transition from winter to spring was always a weird one? It was almost as if the weather dictated your mood.

Well whatever it was your shift was going by unspeakably slow. But to be fair it wasn’t all that bad, the tea shop provided a very calming setting to cope with the ever changing ordeals of life. The shop was never empty but it was never unbearably busy either. On occasion a couple would sit and have a cuppa but most of the time people ordered their teas to go.

The door of the old shop is pushed open with minimal force, the ringing of the bell shifting your attention to the direction of the sound. In lumbered a boy, his clothes baggy and oversized as if he were trying to fend off the dying cold, his hair colored a light blond creating a perfect contrast to his red irises, and the expression on his face unclear due to the the scarf wrapped firmly around his neck slightly covering his mouth.

“How may I help you today?” you question, grabbing ahold of a sticky note to take down the order.

The boy’s eyes gloss over the menu before he responds, his voice muffled by the scarf. “I’d like to have a chamomile tea.”

“Sorry,” you shake your head, “can you repeat that for me?”

He hesitates before pulling the scarf down. “Can I have a chamomile tea?”

“For here or to go?”

“Uh,” he glances around the shop before going back to looking off to the side, “here is fine.”

“Your total is five dollars and eight cents, you can sit wherever and I’ll bring you your tea when it’s ready. Can I get your name?”

“Katsuki,” He answered, handing you the exact amount of change before walking off to find a seat.

As you dip the tea bags into the steaming kettle, the once transparent water slowly turns a dark green. You then advert your attention from the tea to the boy who had just entered the shop.

He’s seated by a glass window, his shoulders slumped and his arms appeared to be wrapped in a cris cross form around his stomach as if the abundance of clothes weren’t keeping him warm enough. His eyes were glued to the outside scenery, which in your opinion wasn’t very pleasant.

The trees still weren’t fully resurrected from the harsh winter, a months worth of snow was just now succumbing to the rising (yet still low) temperatures, and the wind tumbled the streets litter up and down the cracked sidewalks. Why would that be captivating to anyone?

The kettle whistles indicating that the tea is done. With caution you pour the tea into a porcelain cup top it off with mint leaves and plate it on a saucer. Carefully you walk over to the table and set the tea infront of the unmindful boy.

“Order for Katsuki,” You state, pushing the saucer towards the boy but he still doesn’t notice your presence. Involuntarily you let your hands reach out to tap his shoulders. The male inhaled sharply as if you had just caused him physical pain. Startled by the noise he just made his eyes find yours to see if he had scared you any but he quickly looks away, unable to make eye contact.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“No im sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. I just don’t think you heard me the first time, which is fine.” you smile softly, looking around the shop to see if there were and unsuspecting customers, “Would it be a problem if I sat with you? Buisness is kind of slow today.”

He shrugged before allowing himself to nod yes. Upon sitting down you were able to get a closer look at his features. His lips were chapped, molded into what seemed to be a frown and the underside of his eyes seemed to be a light shade of gray.

Your eyes follow his movements as he reaches out to grasp the handle of the tea cup. As his fingers slip from the cuff of his hoodie you notice that his hands appear to be covered in this scratches and welts. His fingertips were also lined with callous skin.

“Be careful, it’s hot.” You warn, watching the boys lip curl to blow the liquid. After taking a sip he sets the cup down and looks out the window once more. It’s was clear that if you wanted a conversation you’d have to try harder.

“So how’d you hear about this place? You look pretty young and people like us don’t come here often.” You smile turning your gaze towards the window. The boy swallows before answering your question.

“I use to live in the neighboring city. I moved here not too long ago but a lady used to tell me about it. She-,” the boy pauses, “ She always wanted to visit here.” His voice drawn to that of a mere mutter as he finishes his statement.

“Does she not live around here?” you question.

“Something like that,” The sullen look on his face growing even sadder as his arms go back to caressing his sides. You had clearly just unintentionally hit a nerve. You refrain from asking anymore questions, and just sit and watch the rain drops pitter across the window sill. The musical ballad filling the silence between you too.

“It’s raining again outside the window. These moments make me think of you. I can’t sleep. This silence and the melancholic sound of my heart fill the room. Making me go crazy. So I turn up my radio. Somewhere, I hear someone’s voice. And on the radio. That sad story is so much like my own.”

As the hour fades and closing time nears the boys eyes never move from the window. And the longer you looked at him the more you felt a solace form in your heart. An overwhelming sadness had you firmly seated, unable to leave. Maybe it was the clothes he wore that were clearly there for comfort or maybe it was the way his eyes told a sorrowful story.

In a last ditch attempt to get the boy to talk to you, you dish one more question. “Do you think you’ll come back sometime? Like it doesn’t have to be tomorrow or anything, I just think it’ll be nice for us to have some tea when I’m not on the clock then maybe we can go to a bakery or something, since your not familiar with this town? I could show you around.”

The boys sits firmly in the seat, his eyes still glued to the window. His expression never changing.

“You don’t have to answer right now.” you add, “It was just a suggestion.”

The boy turns and gives you nod he then reaches into his wallet to leaves you a tip, before rising to leave. He mumbles a quick thank you before exiting the shop.

“What could have someone that out of it?” You question grabbing the cup of green liquid. “He didn’t even drink much of his tea.”

“That tea was damn disgusting.” Katsuki says caressing the matte photograph. The picture showcasing two people,there’s a older female, smiling her hand placed on a younger boys head whose looking at the camera in distain. The once matted photo slowly becoming glossy with the tears of its beholder.

“You old hag. We were suppose to go to that shop as a family.” he choked, the saltiness of tears entering his mouth.

“If you don’t get well soon, I’ll lose it,” he sobs clenching the photo between his fingers.

“I’ll lose it.”

Masterlist | Request Rules | Request Box

[hobidreams]

march 1858.

a visitor you never expected; a day you will never forget.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: fluff words: 1.3k contains: historical au, child!yoongi, softness historical context: korean tradition dictates that people age up at the start of the new year (Jan 1), not on their actual birthday. traditionally, they also add an extra year as they consider the baby 1 year old at birth, not 0 years old.  a/n: this drabble is sponsored by a donation to Black Lives Matter.

moonlit throne index. this is drabble four. start from the beginning?

For the entire week leading up to March 9th, as it has been for the past eight years, the palace lights up with an anticipatory hum, a buzz of excitement. Queen Jeonghui is in especially high spirits as she oversees the thorough cleaning of the grand hall and the preparation of the customary celebratory dishes, made with lavish ingredients especially imported from foreign traders. For the eunuchs, the guards, and all the palace occupants, it’s a relief to see the queen so pleased after what had happened a few months prior. Even as she cradles her left arm, hidden by a swath of silk, the smile never leaves her lips as she thinks of the prince and his impending, official tenth birthday.

You don’t pay much attention to the festivities. Or to be more accurate, you don’t have time to. As much as you’d like to pretend, the decorations aren’t for you. Anyhow, your mother has been overwhelmed with work lately as one of the few uinyeo in the palace, and as the head of them all. You are but a fledging apprentice, still learning how to diagnose and properly treat the illnesses that so easily strike the ladies of the court. If only the male physicians could ease your mother’s burden. But social convention must be followed. Even tonight, on Prince Yoongi’s official birthday, she cannot join the feast even though she has been invited personally by the queen.

“Mom, Da-ri-nim’s cramping has gone down,” you report happily, steps a little lighter as you walk over to where mother is hunched over an assortment of herbs. She’s crushing ingredients together with a mortar and pestle.

“Oh? That’s wonderful.” Mother brushes away a few strands of hair from her face. “She should be stable for the rest of the night, but we should keep an eye on her.”

“To make sure she doesn’t bleed too much?”

She smiles. “That’s exactly right.”

“Is the new medicine done yet?”

“Almost there.”

You lean against the desk, watching how the small pot of water simmers above the fire. “I reeaally hope this one works.”

“Me too. The extra amount of mugwort should be effective. Do you remember its effects?”

“Hmm. Most useful for thinning blood, increasing circulation, and…” You look hopefully at her. “Relieving muscle pain?”

Much to your relief, she nods, pride swelling in her chest. “Smart girl.”

The music outside does a crescendo then, notes floating through the cracks of the doors with sounds of laughter. The drums pound out a practiced beat, seeming to shake the ground itself with revelry. You’ve seen the dancers practicing out in the courtyard a few days earlier, and you can only imagine how lovely they must look now, all dressed up in handcrafted skirts and gauzy scarves. You wish you could see it! You’ve always loved to dance. Used to try on mom’s only fancy pink hanbok even though it was much too big for you, then spin round and round and round in front of the mirror to watch the skirt float. She’d scolded you harshly after: how could you possibly dirty or ruin a present from the king himself?! The first gift she had ever earned for her essential help with delivering the precious crown prince. But there are always more dances and performances. This is more important, and that’s okay too.

“We’ll go next year.” Mother says as if she can read your mind (or maybe you’re just bad at hiding your disappointment). “I promise.”

Before you can respond, the door slides open.

“Su-uinyeo-nim!”

“What’s wrong?”

One of the newer eunuchs stands in the frame, his face pale. “A dancer has collapsed! We didn’t want to move and bring her here, so please come with me!” He bows quickly, fingers twisted in the long folds of his sleeves.

“Understood.” Mother reaches aside for the parcel she keeps for emergencies. “Let it boil. Take care of the patients. We’re still going to celebrate after I get back, okay?” she says to you, then disappears with the eunuch.

You do as you’re told, checking on the women who lie on the beds. You replace the damp cloths on their foreheads that have become lukewarm with sweat, and help those who can up, so they can have some water. Many of them are recovering well from the ruthless winter sickness that swept through a whole group of maids; their fevers are mostly subsiding and coughs calming. Still, anything could happen.

When another noise comes from outside, you turn your head. Standing, you put one hand on the door handle and pull.

“Mom, did you forget—”

Your mouth drops slightly as you meet a dark gaze, one at your eye level and marred with a thin scar.

“W-Wangseja-jeonha!” You immediately drop into a bow, ninety degrees, with your back as straight as you can make it. You hold it for five long seconds. He’s still staring at you when you come up again. “M-May I ask why you are paying a visit here…?”

“I made Eunuch Kim sneak me away.” Despite his age, he sounds composed and mature, befitting a future king. He gestures casually beside him to where an exceedingly tall man stands, holding something covered with cloth. “Tray.”

Eunuch Kim steps forward, his cheek slightly indented from his polite smile as he takes away the covering to reveal a bowl, with silver utensils lying aside it. Steam rises immediately, transparent as it curls into the air alongside a comforting smell.

“This is…”

“Janchi guksu.” Celebratory noodles, which must have been brought directly from the feast. Undoubtedly prepared with the highest quality ingredients, and delicious. “It’s your birthday too, isn’t it?”

That was probably one of the last things you thought he’d say. Your heart squeezes; it’s a sort of weird, nervous glee at being unexpectedly seen. “T-That is—Yes! Oh, yes, it, it is!”

While you always thought it was fascinating coincidence to share the same birth date, you’d also long resigned to be overlooked by most in favor of him. Mother always brings you a new hairpin from town, and makes you savory seaweed soup in your own private celebration, and that’s enough. But now, to have the crown prince himself here! You haven’t seen him since that November night, and never this up close.

While his face remains impassive, it seems to soften at your smile. “Good. Then take this.”

You accept the tray that Eunuch Kim offers with grateful hands. You stare into the bowl with your heart pounding. “Can I ask… how did you know, seja-jeonha?”

“Mama told me.”

Your grin grows wider. Next to your mother, the queen has always been your role model. Kind, beautiful, and endlessly caring. Even that night, she had been willing to sacrifice herself for her son. And it seems the prince has learned compassion from the very best.

“I don’t know how to thank you. You didn’t have to trouble yourself, coming all this way.”

“Seja-jeonha. We only have a minute left,” the eunuch reminds in a soft voice.

The prince nods his acknowledgment. You expect him to walk away immediately, but he stays. “A king must protect and take care of his people. And… it’s a thank you. For that night.” He shifts his weight from one foot to another, almost nervous. “Eat well.” Only then does he stalk off with a swish of his opulent navy robes.

You stand there for a minute longer, watching him with admiration in your heart until your grumbling stomach makes you turn in.

Tonight, as the delicate noodles and light soup warm your body from the inside out, you make a promise to yourself. As you renew your fealty to the royal family, you add a new caveat, a second, private oath: unabridged loyalty to the crown prince, to the future king, to Min Yoongi himself.

[aboardthehavocmarauder]

Beautiful Mischief [Pt. 10]

Bad Batch x Reader • Angst/Fluff/NSFW (yknow the whole deal) • Mechanic [hidden Jedi] ! Reader • Female reader

Find the answers you’re looking for

Don’t look back

Find them and keep moving forward

Even if the wound digs deeper

“Surround the main research lab and get the Kaminoans to shut down the facility in our favor”

“General, are you sure we should be doing this?” The arc trooper questions Skywalker as he’s been questioning Kenobi since they were assigned to take care of Y/N.

Y/N felt a ringing pain in her head as she started to work faster. Grabbing one of her sabers tossing it to Hunter for use before snapping the other one in half catching confused looks.

“What was that for?!”

“My chip” She frowns taking out a compartment and opening it to reveal a stage plate with a bloodied chip inside. “Answers...Echo I need you to hack into a part of the system”

“Someone’s going to have to keep them back. I can’t—“

“We’ll give them hell” Wrecker states taking post on one side of the door with Hunter replacing Echo’s side as he removes his arm heading toward Y/N watching as Anakin and Kenobi’s sabers fly right past him the second the door opened starting the fire.

Y/N covered Echo as he got to hacking into the system to get any information from her inhibitor chip compared to ones inputted in the clones. Tech put his datapad away taking out his blasters and firing back trying his best to follow what she wanted.

Don’t hurt anybody

As Crosshair set his ruffle up on their station aiming between Echo and Y/N putting his gun on stun taking down their heavies. Y/N turns back frowning when Kenobi tried to fight off Wrecker but the second he ignited his saber, she couldn’t. She couldn’t help herself.

“HUNTER” Y/N yells running toward them, Hunter immediately tossed her saber to as she ran up Wrecker’s back pushing him back and striking down on Kenobi’s saber. “You will not hurt them Obi Wan”

“Orders, are orders...” Kenobi frowns forcing her back forcing her in between him and Anakin. “I will do what I must”

“You will fall, Y/N”

Y/N frowns turning to the batch doing their best to keep their brothers away from stopping Echo and away from interfering Y/N with her fight with the two Jedi.

But

Someone’s losing

And it’s not going to be them

As Y/N did her best to block both of their swings, keeping up with their fighting patterns. She saw Echo from the corner of her eye hold up the datapad with the information they needed. She retracted her saber surrendering but that didn’t stop Anakin from slicing deep into her back as she used the force to bring the datapad in hand.

All the pain I endured in my lifetime

That should kill me

Y/N drops to her knees feeling the blood drip down her back and before Anakin could finish the job, Kenobi forced him into the wall.

“So...Ben is still in there” She laughs feeling the pain flood in other places. She handed him the datapad as he called off the battalions causing the batch to finally realize what had happened.

“I should’ve...I should’ve done this for you...instead” Kenobi dropped the datapad as he quickly caught Y/N before she fell to the ground. “Palpatine was behind this. The chip...Kaminoans—“

“Were following orders...” Y/N sighs resting against Kenobi.

Anakin groggily got up and before he could interrupt the two. Crosshair held him at gun point as Echo took away his saber with his brothers in blue following their brother and blocking the Jedi from the others.

“We have to get you back to the council...tell them everything”

“You should do that...” She laughs a bit gripping onto his chest plate. “I really think...the second I close my eyes I’m not going to wake up Obi Wan”

“Not on my watch” Hunter reassures hesitantly picking Y/N up in his arms as Kenobi orders his troops one last time to help them get to Coruscant quickly with the help of both battalions’ medics doing their best for Y/N.

——

Y/N sat up in a sand dune staring at the two suns enjoying the warmth on her cold skin.

“You’re not dying on me”

She turns to Hunter in more casual clothing sitting beside her.

“I’ll try to keep running...”

“Gotta stay strong, doll face” Cross on the opposite side of her appeared also in different attire as his face looked puffy from crying.

Oh

——

This is real

Y/N laid almost lifeless on the gurney strapped into it to avoid jostling on the ride back to Coruscant. Crosshair and Hunter on either side of her as the rest of the batch followed on the Marauder.

“The council is forming, so I can go in and clear this”

“What did Echo find?”

“The inhibitor chip has an order...meant to eradicate the Jedi” Kenobi frowns catching feeared and angered looks from the two. “Since you’re mutations and Echo has been tortured. Your chips malfunctioned and this order wouldn’t occur to its full potential. Barley feeling it or not at all. But your brothers in the armies. Would’ve turned the second Chancellor Palpatine executed it”

“Did you send the data over?”

“Your analyst did the second he received the deeper information from the Kaminoans”

“We could put her in a bacta tank”

“That’s what we are doing the second we get back to Coruscant. We weren’t going to use the ones on Kamino” Kix interrupts them and whatever thought they had about the shorter distance. “Coruscant’s medical center is more in our control than Kamino”

“To a degree” Kenobi walks back into the cockpit seeing the time duration.

——

“She could react terribly to the bacta. We don’t know how her body will handle it”

Y/N looked around at her surrounding finding herself and Tech in the middle of the forest moon.

“You...are going to put me in a tank?”

“If it saves her. It saves her!” Wrecker exclaims getting in Tech’s face as Tech pushed him away. “We need our girl”

“I know Wrecker, we are going to do our best. Well. The medical staff are.” Echo interrupts them as Y/N steps over to the clones watching them disappear the second she does.

Her mind started flooding

——

Echo stares at the tank they put Y/N in as he couldn’t stand there and watch her die or live in the bacta tank. He left when it was his rotation to watch her, lucky for him Hunter was already coming in earlier than expected and noticed his upset expression when he came early to the tension building in the room. Thinking something was wrong with Y/N but no it was Echo.

He can’t watch her struggle, deciding to live or die. He just can’t

“Echo?”

“Go away Fives. You had orders to kill her”

“Oh. Well. All over the Galaxy says that was going to happen if she didn’t do what she did. So.”

“Are you really trying to be funny?”

“Uhm. Yes. And ultimately failing” Fives sat beside his brother on the bottom bunk in the awkwardly semi empty barracks. Their brothers must be celebrating their chips becoming obsolete. “Hevy never really liked my jokes”

“Cutup and I did. We laughed to most of them and it annoyed the living hell out of Hevy when he was trying to do his job.”

“That was just the beginning. Then I become the stuck up fool following all the rules when really all we did was stare at a screen” Fives laughs catching a small one to escape Echo. “Man. Echo they would’ve been so proud of you. Maybe it didn’t exactly go in a way that didn’t result in injuries but, you and the batch gave us all our freedom back. We no longer have to follow orders like mindless robots. We are our own people”

Echo straightens up looking at Fives and feeling it all just break down. He rested his forehead against Fives’ shoulder letting the tears fall feeling his brother wrap an arm around him.

“She’ll make it. I heard she’s hella strong”

“She better...” Echo frowns. “kaysh ner ka’rta...”

She’s my heart

——

Y/N woke up in a transparent box slowly sinking to the ground holding her knees close to your chest. She stares blankly at nothing before noticing Tech in the corner propped up against the box working on his datapad.

She uncurls moving herself right beside Tech reaching to touch the box frowning.

“You’re allowed to fall apart Tech”

——

Tech looks up from his datapad finding Y/N at the bottom of the tank holding herself propped up beside him, in a sense. He made sure nothing wrong happened to the tank in case the slow fall to the bottom was a negative fact, but the more he looked into it and the more her vitals were all positive....

“You’re okay...everything is stable” Tech tells himself feeling the weight on his chest grow as he takes his specs off pinching the bridge of his nose while the tears fell.

I need you

Taglist:

@xxeiraxx @fennign @spp2011 @meli-that-girl

[aaetherius]

@cxffexngel:

[ cxffeexngel ] modern AU!! || because this has been in my mind for days sFÑKDSFDf have soft time!

Unlike the pouring rains of an announced storm and a message sent in a whim. Sandalphon’s invitation fell on a calm day, with pillowy clouds dusting the canvas of the stretching blue skies on a quiet afterwork hours of sundown. A confession made in days passed and an evergrowing bond with stolen gazes and lips touching whenever extra eyes did not pry over them. Sandalphon adored kissing lucifer, adored those warm welcomes whenever Lucifer was the one already first thing in the morning for their shared shifts, or taking that mantle himself and welcome the taller with cups ready in their favorite spot under the gaze of the sun filtered through the windows adorned in flowers that never had ceased coming as offerings and all the more secret words his voice couldn’t hope to whisper to the other. The you g man resided now during one of those free days closing the flowershop, dusting off tables and leaves, changing pots and moving those that needed extra hours of sun before the evening would claim the rest of the day thorough. The slightest tinge of anxiety clinging behind his mind, after mulling for hours to pour just exactly which words to type over the phone and let Lucifer know he could come over if he wanted to, having deleted the message over and over until settling with the simplest ’ I have nothing to do, feel free to come over if you want ’ only to be replied within seconds with the most adorable message, if not perhaps a bit formal considering Lucifer’s tendencies if not to how he adorned his texts with cutesy stickers the young man failed to not blush for or ever not find them less than endearing when they were between sheep, drawn cats happy with sparkles and very colorful animated ones. Ah, he really finds ways to fall in love with this man everyday, isn’t he? With the flowershop properly locked, and turning over the ’ Open’ sign to seal it for the day, the young barista and shoopkeeper is done for the day, the welcoming aroma of freshly brewed coffee permeating every inch of his home as it rests in idle silence, if not by the gentle song of water heating over the stove not too far from the main room - and the open bags of beans and cups ready to be filled. For now, Sandalphon only attempts drowning every voice about how anything could go wrong, his coffee going acid, the temperature not being right - thinking too much like Gran often liked to poke fun at the cranky barista those days the young man inadvertently broke into his house somehow despise having checked each of his locks twice or even trice just to ensure that the pest the other adored to make himself out to be couldn’t get in. Always futile because it seemed like no lock was match against Gran’s lockpicking and his indestructible will to simply invite himself into Sandalphon’s home. Sometimes even with the girl in blue who made it even easier for the barista to simply cave in and let them stay and steal his food. - those memories are enough to ignore the impending doom that could brew should he mull over the little details about this and that. A soundless sigh slips past somewhat dry lips, tired eyes blinking calmly when attention flicks towards one of the windows as gentle breeze blows curtains into a serene dance matching leaves of branches and leaves outside, palm over his cheek scratching aimlessly any tension left that arises as spontaneously as it leaves. Only finding light within the autumn scarlet within his eyes when spotting the familiar shine of opal locks shimmering behind the blurriness barely transparent curtains of white could offer casting a shadow over that form that Sandalphon could arguably recognize even amidst a crowed street. His body moving before he could think towards the main door, and fingers curling tightly over the handle to twist it and push the frame open for the other, a sheepish smile drawn all over dusted rose pale features, sporting Lucifer’s borrowed hood and black legging the young man often wore whenever there was no work to be done, and the always needed pair of heeled boots rarely Sandalphon took off. “A-Ah! Welcome, Lucifer! ” Sandalphon almost wanted to visibly wince at how drearily hoarse his voice comes despise his initial joy - but he doesn’t, instead clearing his throat with a small cough over his palm. “ Please come on! I’m readying our cups, feel free to choose any seat if you’re tired. ” Continues, while stepping to the side giving the taller enough space so he could finally step in, and their time together start and go along however it takes - ah, how feeble his heart is that the thought alone of Lucifer in his home makes it leap into his throat, and rob any coherent thought or even the plans he mulled over the whole morning about everything.

    Sandalphon’s text had kick started his heart after he had returned to his apartment to try out a handful of new coffee recipes he had written down in his journal when he hadn’t been attending to customers this afternoon - something that had become a less frequent habit of his following his confession as the slow hours were typically spent with his attention fixed on the barista instead of a notebook these days. He’d texted the other back before thinking much about his response - he could never deny Sandalphon’s company, and he had tossed off his work clothes to change into something a tad bit more casual in a matter of minutes as well…only to pause as he was slipping out of the door with a mildly displeased Ellie seated comfortably, he thinks, on the plush cushion nestled inside of the feline backpack strapped safely around his shoulders. After all, he couldn’t leave her alone for the night - that would be downright criminal when she’s spent a night on her since he had rescued her. His unwilling companion (who would have been perfectly content to romp around the apartment unattended) aside, he had realized that he hadn’t prepared anything to give to the other. Perhaps it was a somewhat trivial notion, but despite all of the flowers and beautiful poems Sandalphon had gifted him with, he hadn’t done much in return for the other. His own knowledge of flowers had come from the barista himself, and he had little talent when it came to writing out meaningful poems. Even Michael, who had known him nearly his entire life, struggled to follow his notes. Neat as his handwriting naturally was, he had a terrible habit of jotting down notes in a manner only he could truly understand. Ah, and bringing flowers to a flowers hop didn’t seem like a suitable gift either. Sweets wouldn’t do wither, Sandalphon favored bitter and savory foods, much like how he preferred his coffee. So, quickly, the smile upon his features had faded as he lingered in the doorway of his apartment, smiling softly at the various neighbors that walked past him. A low hum rumbles in throat for moment as he strokes his chin absentmindedly before turning tail back into the apartment, gingerly removing a handful of things from the cluttered bookshelf and carefully tucking them away behind Ellie so they weren’t terribly apparent before he slipped outside to a day distinctly unlike the one he had mindlessly invited Sandalphon over on when it had been storming dreadfully.

    The walk to the flower shop is a short one, yet, despite that, he checks his phone constantly on the way. He had memorized the address when the other had sent it to him, but the rush of joy that had held his heart tightly enough that it made his chest throb was enough to make that information leap to the very back of his mind. He had never been to the barista’s home before, and he hadn’t been aware of the fact that he owned a flower shop until very recently - to say he was delighted would be an understatement when he feels something akin to excitement for the first time in years; perhaps for the first time since he had dabbled in coffee that fateful say more than a decade ago. And his hand comes up to press firmly against the center of his chest as if doing so would somehow quell the swan song of his heart as every step brought him closer to the one he loves most. For so long, truthfully, he had felt numb - the emotions he harbored had been tucked deep within him, unable to break free from the constant guilt and sense of melancholy that hung over him. He had forgotten what feeling excited was like - what looking forward to something could be like, and he had thought, for quite some time now, that he was incapable of feeling something so unbridled. But Sandalphon brings him more joy than he could have ever dreamed of experiencing, despite the pain that comes alongside it, so he can only tighten his hold around the fabric clumped between his fingers as he exhales in the humid air, and allows his gaze to wander upwards towards the clear sky. Its color paling now that the better part of the day had come and gone, but it still casts a gentle, blue shadow onto his pale features as he stops in front of the flower ship, and Sandalphon’s home. Pearly strands of hair absorb the colors cast upon them, and reflect them back with a gentle shimmer that almost makes it appear as if wayward strands of his hair are glowing in an array of dazzling colors. Sometimes, he’s reminded, the world can be a beautiful place. But, truly, he’s always found the sky to be something remarkable - something free; something wondrous, and grand. As a child, he used to dream of reaching his hand up high enough to touch the clouds despite knowing all he would come away with were damp fingers. Even now, a small part of him is still drown to the vast blue, and the gentle, creamy clouds that float through it without a care.

    The click of the door draws him away from his thoughts, and he quickly loosens his hold on the white shirt he’s wearing before trying, and failing, to smooth out the wrinkles he’s formed in the fabric before trying, and failing once more, to cover them with the light blue sleeve of his hoodie as an impossibly warm smile spills onto his rosy lips. Their hue nearly the same shade as the color that dusts over Sandalphon’s features, though the utterly fond look stretched across Lucifer’s visage doesn’t quite match the other’s sheepish one. And it brightens all the more once he realizes the barista is wearing the hoodie he had borrowed from him. And that, too, makes his chest ache, but in a different way than the anticipation that had crept through his bloodstream a moment ago. Love is a strange thing, he thinks, it’s not a singular emotion but rather a collection of so many complex feelings he can’t place individual names to that he hardly knows what he’s supposed to feel at any given point in time. “Good evening, Sandalphon,” he offers, his voice gentle and soft and full of affection. And the sound of the other’s name appears to be all it takes for Ellie to meow loudly from her bubbly, lavender prison upon Lucifer’s back as she tries to crane her neck around to curiously peek beyond her owner’s shoulder at the younger man - her keen eyes narrowing into a glare once she spots that familiar nest of auburn hair. Lucifer, for his part, seems entirely unaware of Ellie’s struggles when he’s utterly captivated by the sight of Sandalphon dressed in his hoodie alongside his typical leggings and heels. “Thank you, and thank you for allowing me to visit you. I’m looking forward to tasting the coffee you’ve made, and – ah, I have something for you, as well, when we have a moment.” It’s hard for him to focus when he’s still awestruck by the sight of the homely flower shop that doubles as the barista’s residence. Something about it seems magical to him, perhaps if only because it’s where Sandalphon lives. And he can’t imagine a place he would rather be than beside the other, yet, even so, stepping into the smaller’s home is a strange mixture of comfortable and wonderful. His eyes wander everything and anything for a moment before he shakes his head gently to snap his attention back to Sandalphon. “I’m grateful you invited me over, and I’m so very happy to see you, Sandalphon.” Slowly, he reaches out his hand to push a few strands of auburn hair behind the other’s ear - his fingers gently gliding over the other’s skin as he leans forward to place a kiss in greeting upon the top of the smaller’s head before withdrawing again at the sound of another meow echoing against the rounded window of the backpack Ellie is still seated in, and he can’t stop the hoarse chuckle that falls from his lips. “Forgive me, I may have brought an uninvited guest along. She has never been left alone, so I’m afraid I didn’t have the heart to leave her behind today. I’m certain; however, that she’ll be on her best behavior. She’s rather fond of you after all.” Fond is not the word most people would use to describe Ellie’s feelings towards rival, and it most certainly wasn’t how the feline felt to the man she had dubbed an intruder in her quiet, and peaceful life, but, well, Lucifer, for whatever reason, was convinced they got along wonderfully.

[ranposlittle]

Hi! I just discovered your blog and I love your writing❤️ If that's not too much to ask, could I ask for a nsfw scenario with dom Dazai who edge his s/o until she becomes a mess and beg to let her cum ? And maybe, only if you're comfortable, you could include some mirror sex and vibrator 🙈? I’m sorry if you don’t fully understand my English is not very good 😅❤️ Thank you in advance ❤️

Genre: NSFW ( SO MUCH OF IT OMG)

Tags: Vibrator, Mirror sex, Teasing, Edging

A/N: Ooo another spicy for Dazai~ not much I can say about it other than I hope this is what you wanted and listen to this audio (warning: very super spicy aaa) if you'd like. I love this VA and his works hehe. Enjooooy! ⸜( ◍´꒳`◍ )⸝◌｡˚✩

˚ * . ⊹ • ꒰꒱ • ⊹. * ˚

It’s just been well over a month since you’ve joined the Armed Detective Agency and instantly developed an attraction to a certain peculiar man. Your wandering imagination have desired to have him in your room- naked and hovering above you as his hips swing back and forth to meet yours- so much so that when the opportunity presented itself in a form of a date, you threw all sense of pride out of the window and invited him back to your place. Of course, you are aware that your intentions was completely transparent to him despite of your best efforts to conceal it, but you didn’t really care as the aching feeling inside you grows each time you look at him. You’ve dreamt of experiencing pleasure through him as he pounds you into the bed but so far, you’re being proven that good things don’t come easy as he was still fully clothed while you’re completely devoid of clothing.

“Dazai-san,” your wispy moan fluttered through the cold air circulating around your dimly lit bedroom and the quiet hum of the fan was a distant muted sound that slips out of your mind with every contact of Dazai’s tongue on your swollen clit. As both of his thumbs hold your folds open, his tongue was free to roam and ravish every moist inch of your exposed flesh. Your head further sank onto the fluffy pillow below you as another suck from Dazai’s warm mouth sends you flying over to the moon. He moaned softly when your fingers curled up on his hair and your hips bucked up to his face.

“Dazai-san, I’m close.” You called out to him once more as your toes curled inwards and your heels pressed down on the mattress. “Please, don’t stop.”

Sweat was dripping on every corner of your naked body and your muscles ache as you were repeatedly drove to your peak, only to be forcefully pulled back down whenever Dazai would abruptly stop. The fuzz in your brain further clouded your mind as Dazai’s muffled chuckle vibrated on your sensitized core.

“Not yet, (Y/N)-chan,” he crooned, dragging a finger up and down your slit. “Just a little bit longer for me, okay? I promise I’ll reward you if you do.”

You whined as Dazai resumed on the task at hand, giving more powerful sucks on your plump sex. Once he felt your legs trembling in a familiar way, he popped your clit out of his mouth immediately. You let out a wanton cry; you know you’re a thread away from breaking down because of his cruel game. The bed wobbled as Dazai pulled your body up until you’re sitting face to face with him. He gave your parted lips a quick kiss and you tasted yourself on its supple surface before his signature smirk quirked up on the corner of his mouth.

“You look so beautiful, all sweaty and flustered,” he commented, brushing back the hairs that were stuck on your forehead. “Do you want to come now, hmm?” You nodded enthusiastically which greatly amused him. “Well, where are your toys?”

You blinked in surprise from his question. “C’mon, don’t tell me that a dirty girl like you don’t have one,” he said before coming closer to whisper deeply on your ear. “I know you like touching yourself. Show me what you use on yourself while you think of me.”

Guilt washed over you as your deeply personal dirty secret was exposed in the open. You accepted the fact that Dazai knows how much you want him from the way you ogle at him but it somehow still surprised you that he apparently was also aware of what you do once you’re all alone with the memory of how good he looked that day and the faint smell of his perfume still lingering on your nose. Your eyes dropped to the floor in shame as you gingerly crawled to your side table, opened up the drawer and procured a cordless wand massager.

“Wow,” Dazai teasingly whistled. “I was right about you. You’re just as naughty as I thought.” Your eyes refused to meet his as you handed it to him but he didn’t took it; instead he titled your face up to his own.

“You see that mirror over there? I want you to show me.” He demanded in a gruff voice. “Show me how you make yourself come.”

Your heart thumped inside your chest in mixed feelings of nervousness, embarrassment and excitement. You hang on to the hopes that if you do what he asks you, no matter how humiliating, you’ll finally be allowed to reach that high your body has been craving from the first moment that he touched you. You swallowed dryly and did exactly what you were told. Dazai followed closely and sat down on the floor with you in front of your body mirror.

“That’s it. Now, spread your legs,” he ordered, settling down behind you. Dazai’s hot breath tickled the insides of your ear and send shivers running down to your core. You obeyed, of course. “Spread your pussy for me too. Let me see deep inside you.” His voice was so goddamn sexy and with all the lewd words he’s saying, you’re just dripping down with desire. You didn’t even thought of this scene playing out even in your wildest wet dreams. Your trembling fingers reached down and exposed your flushed pink flesh.

“Mmm, that’s good. You’re so soaked,” he praised sweetly. “Now, use your toy.”

The smooth head of the massager rested on the top of your clit, the sheer contact already making your legs shake. With just one flick of your finger, the massager started up in slow and steady pulses. You squealed at the sudden sensation and Dazai’s arm slithered onto your breast, caressing it and rubbing your erected nipple.

“Look at me in the mirror,” his smoky voice buzzed in your ear and you met his eyes on the perverted reflection in front of you. “This is what you dream of, isn’t it? Every time you touch your pussy, you picture me with you just like this. Well, now I’m here. You don’t have to imagine anymore. You can look at me while you enjoy using that toy on yourself like you’ve always wanted.”

You sucked on your lower lip as the massager continued to vibe on, sending volts of pleasure on your nerves. Still high from Dazai’s earlier coaxing, you didn’t even have to adjust the speed of the vibrator to feel your orgasm climbing back up again. A long drawn out moan escaped your lips and your whole body shook against Dazai.

“Are you about to come already? Does getting watched by me while you masturbate really turn you on that much?” His teasing really didn’t help your cause as it just brought even more heat to your core. “Well, you can come now if you’d really like. But if you do, then you won’t get to have my cock inside you. I know you dream of my cock too, right?”

“Y-yes, please,” you replied and cringed at how your voice sounded more pathetic than you anticipated.

“So needy,” Dazai said, pinching on your nipple. “If you want it that bad then why don’t you beg me? Maybe I’ll do it if your begging pleases me.”

His tone was so smug and domineering that it would’ve pissed you off if it wasn’t for the tingling tension in your abdomen that was threatening to snap before you can satiate the hunger you have to feel him stretch you out and fill you up. The massager kept its steady vibration on your clit as your hands tremble on its handle.

“Dazai-san, please,” you fixed your gaze on his eyes at the reflection. Lust took over you as you once again caught a glimpse of your own reflection in such an obscene position, the wrongness of it all made you even needier. “Please give me your cock. Fuck me. Use me however you want. I don’t care what you do just please… let me come.”

Your voice was so desperate, your body quivering in whichever way and your overwhelming want for his cock distracting you on the fact that you can absolutely do whatever you want, but despite of your shaking limbs, you never dared to move the vibrator away from your clit, and it’s all just to please him. It was all too entertaining for Dazai’s sadistic side to hold back his own excitement as his strained erection twitched inside his pants.

Without a warning, Dazai pushed you forward causing the vibrator go flying on a corner; your hands reflexively caught your own weight as you get down on all fours and your nose grazed the mirror. With such close proximity, you can see just how ruined you look right now, looking almost foreign to your own self. You hear Dazai’s belt clinked as it dropped on the floor and the sound of him zipping down followed. Not even having a chance for your eyes to focus on the reflection to see what Dazai was doing when a sudden piercing pain enveloped your vagina.

Dazai cursed lowly as he pushed the last centimeter of his length inside you without a care of your loud hiss of discomfort. “Wow. You’re so swollen that your pussy just sucks me right in. How nice.”

He leaned forward and gives the small of your back light kisses before reaching up to yank a fistful of your hair. You gasped as your neck strained and the angle that Dazai was holding your head was forcing you to look at your own disheveled reflection. Without a hint of hesitation, Dazai just started slamming himself into you. His hips making a loud slapping sound as it crashes into yours and with each blow, your staggered exhales fog up the mirror.

“Look at yourself,” Dazai mumbled through gritted teeth. “Not so innocent now, are we? You act like such a proper lady at the office but it only took me a second to know just how horny you truly are. It wasn’t hard to notice how your eyes would slide down to my pants and how you would rub your legs afterwards. Don’t you think it’s bad to look at your co-worker like that and think such naughty thoughts? You probably just walk around the office soaking wet all the time, don’t you?” Dazai’s mocking chuckle tightened the built-up desire inside you as you witness through your lidded eyes how he continue to forcefully pound into you. “Is this what you wanted all this time? Am I making your dreams come true?”

“Yes,” you groaned out with the little strength you have left. “Oh God, yes. Don’t stop, Dazai-san. I want to come. Please.”

Dazai grunted and pulled you back down and maneuvered you to his lap as he settled on the floor once again. “Watch.” He ordered. “Watch how my cock will go in and out of your pussy and ingrain it on your mind. If you look away, I’ll stop, understand?”

As promised, Dazai sink his fingers on your hips and he began thrusting upwards. Your breasts bounced as he rocked you but your mind was only focused on watching the way his shaft would appear and disappear into you. Wet squelching sounds occupied the space around you along with your cries of pleasure and Dazai’s breathy moans hitting the delicate skin of your back. Your hand unconsciously reached up to your breasts to massage them as you completely drown in ecstasy, but the way your walls contracted erratically around Dazai didn’t go unnoticed.

“Mmm, my naughty girl’s ready to come now, huh?” his voice was sickeningly sweet given the way he carelessly tormented you for this long. “I’ll let you, but only on my count. Let’s come together, okay?”

One of his hands moved away from the bruising grip on your side and dipped on your folds to rub circles on your clit. Your lips shivered a quiet moan as a tidal wave of pleasure rushed from your head to your toes.

“Three.”

Dazai’s hips buckled up once more and send a mind-numbing sensation on your brain piled up atop of all of the others that came before it.

“Two.”

He grunted as your walls pulsated; your orgasm was starting to spill out of you and you clamped yourself around him in an attempt to hold it for a little bit longer.

“Ugh- hold it. Not yet.”

He continued to ram himself into you and you once again cried out: in pleasure, in frustration, in need. Despite your effort, your climax was unraveling and you just about lose your mind as you wait for Dazai’s final count.

“Here it comes- ah! One-”

Two deep thrusts and Dazai sheathed his cock inside you as he release hot streams of cum. The feeling of his fluids splashing on your walls was the last straw for you to be pushed off of the edge and your orgasm busted out of you like a backed-up waterfall. Everything you know was swallowed up in a void; you felt nothing but euphoria and bliss as you let yourself convulsed erratically without neither control nor guilt present on your mind. Liquid slowly flowed down to your aching thighs shortly after Dazai pulled out of you and you limply rested your back against his chest. Your slow descent to sanity left you breathless and without an ounce of strength left on any part of your body. You felt as if almost all of your life energy was sucked out of your body and you’re just one breath away from passing out completely.

“You’re amazing.” Dazai said as he gave your temple a tender kiss. “I don’t think you’ll ever need that toy ever again. I’ll be happy to give you the real thing whenever your imagination goes wandering.”

You weakly opened your eyes and see Dazai’s dark eyes glistened as he whispered, “Even at work.”

[thewritingstar]

Falling Back to You

Pairing: Blossick (Blossom x Brick, Reds)

Fandom: The Powerpuff Girls

Soft, sweet reds because I've been feeling angsty lately and needed a breather lol. Sorry to everyone who follows me for other fandoms, I promise Ill write more for FT (you can always leave asks lol)

Tag List: @over-under-through1 @shellielyzabeth (if you want to be on my tag list, you can find the post or dm me)

I hope you enjoy. This has been sitting in my drafts for a few months and decided to just finish it lol. 

---

“I’m surprised you don’t have your hat on.” A voice came from behind him. But not just any voice. The moment the first word left those lips, the hair on his neck stood up and sent a familiar chill down his back. It was a voice that he knew well, could distinguish in a crowd of a thousand voices, it was the equivalent of his favorite song or the taste of the sweetest thing to melt in your mouth.

“Blossom.” He said under his breath but her super hearing picked it up.

She thought she was prepared to see him, after all its been two years. That’s enough time to heal, right? But she prayed that he didn’t hear the small gasp that escaped her lips as he turned. That crisp dark red suit fit him like a glove and she spotted him from a mile away in that signature color. He looked good in red.

“Hi.” She managed to say smoothly as he took a step towards her. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked with a reluctant tone. It was only the most important night of his life. The one where he would be promoted to the head of the department, the one he busted his ass off from the ground up. Not to mention an award for a case he worked on last year. 

She shrugged and bit her lip. “My boss is here and I have to write a report for him.” Then added. “And I wasn’t going to miss the achievement you have been talking about for literal years.” She said shyly. “I promised after all.” 

And she did. Back when they had dated all those years ago. Blossom was by his side as he worked from being an assistant at the law firm to one of the most promising lawyers, and now the highest ranked lawyer, but she missed the last part. Unfortunately. 

He studied his ass off and she did too, both of them determined to outshine anyone in their paths, maybe that why they chose different companies. They had traded their childhood rivalry for a path of lust and love, a simple competition would not be throwing them down that path. In fact their jobs were the reason they weren’t together.

“You remembered.” He said under his breath. She heard it, of course. 

She tapped her foot and looked around before giving a puzzling look. “Wheres Jasmine?” It pained her to ask. 

Jasmine. Oh yes, his girlfriend who couldn’t be bothered to celebrate to most important time of his career. Or rather, ex girlfriend, As of last night where he found her with another man. 

“Not my girlfriend.” He simply stated as she nodded before taking a sip of her drink. 

It must have been good if she brought it to her lips. Blossom loved a good cocktail but if it was hard liquor, she required top shelf, something he admired. He was like that too and was the reason she only drank the highest quality. 

“What about Tyson?” 

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Not my boyfriend.” She said bitterly and he didn’t know why he was happy about it. “Cheated on me for a blonde.” Her glass was on the verge of cracking before she smoothed out her dress. “Typical.” 

He hummed in agreement. There was a feeling of anger running through him as he thought about any man hurting Blossom, sure he hurt her too but nothing like that. No their fight was different, it was a fight about whats best for both of them. 

They had just under an hour before the cermony started. He didn’t want to bother being inside socailzing with a bunch of random people and he had a feeling she didn’t either. The wide open hallway was becoming stuffy and he could see a trio of men walking their way and knew Blossom would become the talking point. 

Before Brick could turn them the other way, the men were already there. 

“Brick.” The tall one spat. 

“Landon.” Brick matched his tone. What a dumb name he thought. 

Landon turned and did not bother to hide the fact that he was checking out Blossom. Of course he was. Even in her simple black cocktail dress that screamed sophistication, she was a walking dream. 

“And you are?” He gave her a smirk that could charm anyone, expcet for Blossom of course. 

Brick was pracitcally smiling as Blossom shook his hand. He knew she wouldn’t take his bait. 

“Blossom Utonium. Head of corrupt affairs at Duchess Law.” She started with what Brick likes to call her “Miss Business voice”. 

Landon smirked. “Duchess Law? Someones a smart cookie.” He winked. 

The other men behind him agreed and Blossom held her tounge. She hated being patronized or looked down on. He should be thanking the lucky stars that he’s even in her presence.

Brick could tell she was annoyed and wrapped his arm around her waist before looking at Landon. “She makes more money than all three of you combine and actally can win a case so show some repect.” He spat and he turned them around towards the back doors that led to the garden space. 

The feeling of having his arm around her sent a spark through her body. At first it felt foreign but the memories came rolling in waves as they walked.

“I could handle myself.” She stated and he hid his laugh.

“I know, but you won’t because of your repuation. I for one don’t care about mine that much.”

“Or maybe its because you still care.” She teased as she sat on the stone bench with him. 

He was about to response but his phone began to ring. He wanted to ignore it but Blossom probably would say something about it. 

“Its Butch.” He said before trying to put it back into his pocket. 

“You should anwser it. I’m sure he’s wanting to wish his brother well.”

He huffed and anwsered on the final ring. 

“Hello?”

“Hey quick question. Do you think that I would win in a fight against Thanos?” 

Brick only shook his head.

“Butch.”

“Its serious cause Buttercup doesn’t think so but I could take him for sure.” 

Blossom was holding a hand to her mouth as the guy kept going on about the stupid question. 

“Oh shit dude, tonights your night!”

“Yes it is now Imma hang up now.”

“Brick be nice.”

“Wait a minute bro. Is that Miss Blossom with you?”

“Yes because shes the only one who bothered to care.”

“Hey you’re the one who said not to come. Anyways tell her I said hi and that you two should totally get back together because you kept going on and on about how you missed her and leaving her was the worst choice you made-” The line cut dead and the phone was shoved in his pocket. 

“Hes stupid.” He mumbled and Blossom drank the rest of her drink. 

“Hes not wrong.”

He turned towards her and gazed silently. She was just as he remembered. Gorgeous and graceful and even without a word spoken, she could command a room. He admired her greatly and she felt the same. 

“Brick, can we just skip all of it?” She asked softly. 

“I’ve kinda been looking forward to my award.”

“No, not this.” She gestured to the building. “But this.” She pointed between them. 

“Skip what?”

“Oh I don’t know, the drama of it all? Because if we don’t confess now we are going to waste so much time running after each other and I-I dont want to waste time.” She looked down at her shoes. A sad sigh leaving her lips. “I just miss you.” 

The confession surprised him. They were both forward people who never beat around the bush but when it came to their feelings between them, they had always been shy. Boomer and Bubbles were easy to confess and even Butch and Buttercup seemed to have it together but for them, it felt impossible sometimes.

No matter where he turned, she was there. They had always crossed paths like star-crossed lovers and it was as if the universe was constantly pulling them together and they had tried. They really did. 

Perhaps the timing wasn’t enough or their pride had stood in the way. they never meant to fall apart the way they did but when the other side of the bed was empty, those walls they held up became transparent and it only took a mere few seconds to see what they had lost. 

But he understood what she meant. They both knew that if anything were to happen between them tonight it would start a snowball effect that everyone was tired of seeing. Over and over they would fall in line and build each other up before something came between them and pulled them apart. 

He wanted to get past all the hurdles of playing cat and mouse until on of them caved and said their feelings. But her saying she missed him wasn’t her caving, she was just tired and so was he.

They had been young when they had fallen in love. The rules of life tossing them into a sea of doubt but now they were adults who knew the game and could easily avoid anything in their paths, except each other. 

His hand slid over hers. “I missed you too.”

She smiled softly before her hand rested on his cheek. “I’m really proud of you Brick, you’ve come along way.” 

“I’m just happy you got to see it.” He whispered before his lips touched hers with a fire they both had missed. 

A swirl of fire and ice that only they knew. No matter how much life decided to pull them apart or change the course, he would always find himself coming back to her. 

The kiss didn’t last as long as he would have liked but seeing the faint blush on her cheeks made it all worth it. 

“What are you doing later?” He asked as he helped her up from the bench. 

“I was going to get take out and sit in my hotel room watching movies.” 

Brick leaned over to fix the bow in her hair, taking the time to have her close. “I don’t suppose you would accept any company?” He winked before kissing the back of her hand and handing her the red purse.

“I think I can make an exception.” She winked and he had never thought she had looked more stunning. 

She took his hand, their palms resting naturally together, before walking back to the ceremony, where he would leave with not only his award but the woman he had loved for years and years. 

--

was the ending lazy? yes. do I care, only a little bit. Lol. I’ve had a really off day so I hope this is good.

Hope you enjoyed :) 

[a-pretty-nerd]

Run (Jasper Jordan x Reader College!Au)

Request: “Hoi I wanna request a story sadly I don’t have Patreon though so u prob won’t make it hehe. It’s a Jasper Jordan x reader fan fic also I would love if it a High school/college Au and the readers parents don’t approve Jasper so she has to sneak out every time she wants to meet him but soon she finds out she’s pregnant so she runs away with him? Also your work is amazing!” ~ @deadqueeen 

A/N: I was just about to say, “I’ve never done a college au before, uwu!” but I forgot about that entire self indulgent smut I wrote…big Oof. Anyways, love this idea, I love some good ol’ fashioned angst. Just a warning though, I did end up leaning heavily into the relationship reader has with their parents so just be prepared for some upsetting interactions. 

If you like my work, don’t be afraid to interact! Gimme a like, comment, message, send a request my way if you like! And if you’d like to support me further, go ahead and check out my Patreon!  I’d love to see you there!

Trigger Warnings: Mild Smut, Parental abuse, petting crime, and Pregnancy. 

College was stressful as it is, but as the months passed, things were getting harder and harder to manage. Come your freshman year, a little thing called Covid-19 hit the world, sending it into a whirlwind of stress and unease.You sat in the shower, letting the warm water fall over your aching body as you stared blankly at your knees. After your panic attack you were left void of emotion and thought, sitting there wondering what to do and how to move. The water was a calming reminder that you were still present and very much alive.

Things had changed very quickly and yet it felt like that change took forever to get to you. Covid hit right before the end of your freshman year, forcing you to move back in with your parents until it “passed.” But it wasn’t passing and now you were starting your sophomore year at home.As stressful as it was, you missed school. You missed your friends, your dorm room, even your part-time job. But most of all, your freedom. You missed the carefree way in which you lived in the dorms. You had a taste or real life and you craved more.

You were trapped, for lack of a better word, imprisoned in your childhood home. You spent days without leaving the confines of it’s walls in a failed attempt to keep you safe and focused on school. Your parents weren’t always so strict, but they made it clear that school should be your top priority and anything else was an unwelcome distraction. Things like your boyfriend, were merely a hindrance to your education.You met Jasper your first day in the dorms. He was bright and smiling like an excited puppy, eager and willing to make new friends and new experiences. You quickly became friends, and then a little more. Before you knew it, the two of you were inseparable. He made you feel so wild and free. He nurtured the fun, carefree side of you that you didn’t even know existed. He cared for you in ways no one ever had before. He was so funny and kind and genuine. He gave you the tools to grow, and with his, you bloomed.

When the pandemic hit, it devastated the two of you. Being isolated and kept from one another proved too much to bare. You remember the first night you snuck out with him, terrified of alerting your parents. They hated Jasper, they forbade you from seeing him. Told you he’d do nothing but keep you down and stifle your potential. If only they could see how happy he made you. If only, they cared.Jasper would creep around to your backyard and gently tap at your bedroom window. 12 am, they’d always be asleep, the perfect time to make a quick get away and then 6am, you’d sneak back through your window.

The adrenaline of misbehaving always drove you crazy. Sneaking around in the dark of the night, stealing chased kisses from one another until it was too much to handle. You fell into each other’s arms almost every night, desperate kisses and moans in between the sound of skin slapping against skin. He made your hair curl.You were his first. He was awkward and silly at times but you whipped him into shape real quick. And now, he was a well trained boy toy ready and willing at any moment you desired. He was always so desperate for you, so needy and greedy for your body. But his kisses, no matter how passionate and crazed, were always so loving. He adored you in every way.

These secret rendezvous went on for months, all summer, it was routine, you couldn’t stay away from him. But, maybe you should have. With more classes fast approaching, you began to think about your future. If only you had the money to move out, you and Jasper could finally have a sense of normalcy. You could move in together, start a life together. But the pandemic and school sucked your savings dry and without the conditioned help from your parents, you were penniless. You finally stood on your shaky legs and lifted yourself out of the show. You dried yourself off, shuffled over to your room, dressing yourself, and waiting till the coast was clear. When all was quiet, you texted Jasper and soon he was at your window. Lucky for you, he wasn’t a far drive away. He gently tapped on the glass and leaned down to flash a big goofy grin from behind your curtains. You opened the window and let him in, shushing him as he fell into the room.

“Hey sweetness.” He whispered, loudly. He planted a soft kiss on your cheek as he held you by your hips.“Please be quiet, you’re making me nervous.” You hushed. His smile disappeared slowly as he examined your face. Your red eyes and puffy cheeks gave away your emotions. He was never good at reading a room, but there was little you could hide from him. He made you transparent.

“Have you been crying?” Worry washed over him as he placed his hands to hold your head and slide his thumbs over the soft skin on your cheeks. You tried to avoid his gaze but failed miserably.“Yeah…” You admitted, wiggling out of his grasp so you could sit on the edge of your bed. Your heart started to race, the anxiety and fear wrenching its was through your body. Even the thoughts made you want to cry again.

“Whats wrong? Did something happen with your parents?” You’d been having fights with them for some time now, and he knew it was taking a tole on you. Jasper offered to being you home to his folks, but his relationship with them was on the rocks as it was. Your small group of close friends were your only support. All things considered, the two of you were left on your own. “No…” You muttered, unable to bring yourself to say it out loud. The tears quickly came back up and started falling again. Your emotions, your fears, your pain took over you. You couldn’t get out a single word before your body jerked uncontrollably as you sobbed. It left a slew of incomplete words spewing from your mouth. “I-I….I-I I’m ….. Mmmm …. I’m …..” gasp, sob “Mmmmmha….” and the sobbing continued.

“Hey…Hey…It’s okay.” He cooed softly to you as he rubbed soft, slow circles on your back. It helped, but not much.“N-No…” you shook as you cried, “I’m-m-m-”

“It’s alright, take deep breaths, you don’t have to say anything until you’re ready.” He whispered to you. You clung to him desperately. It took time, but soon you felt good enough to speak again.“Jasper…”

“What sweetness?” He flashed you his kind and loving smile.“I’m pregnant.” You uttered softly. You watched the color drain from his face. His sweet smile faded away to a scowl and the fear rushed back to you. The sobbing started again as you chanted apology after apology, begging for him to stay with you. He didn’t move, he only held you where you were. Finally spoke.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. This isn’t your fault. We tried, we were safe, it’s not your fault. Shhhhh. It’s okay.” Suddenly a bright light interrupted him. Your bedroom door swing open to reveal the large, looming figure of your mother. “What the hell is going on here!” She screamed. You watched in horror as your mother wrenched Jasper from your arms and threw him out into the living room. You followed her, pleading and begging her to stop as she hurled whatever was in reach at him. Shoes, pillows, plates, before your father reached around his collar to throw him out of the house. 

The yelling and screaming continued through the night until the sun came up. Your father nailed your bedroom window shut. Your mother locked your door by pushing furniture in front of it to keep you inside. Your phone, your computer, every form of communication was taken from you. Every mistreatment and punishment being underlined by some iteration of, “this is for your own good” or “this is because we love you.” 

You felt stuck in an emotional limbo for days on end as they kept you prisoner. You didn’t have the energy to cry or argue, there was nothing you could do or say. You had sit and stay, like a good girl. 

One night you were woken by a soft tapping at your bedroom window. You jolted out of bed to see a pair of familiar eyes pear back. Monty stood on the other outside, a face mask and baseball cap hiding his features. He held up a notebook with writing on it and pressed it against the glass. 

“Are you okay?” It read. You rushed to find paper and write back. 

“I’m fine. Wheres Jasper?” 

“Your Dad threatened to shoot him if he saw him again. So he sent me.” He wrote back. 

“Is he okay?” 

“He’s fine. We’re busting you out of here.” 

“How? They’re getting security cameras installed tomorrow.” Monty looked visibly concerned and thought for a moment before responding. 

“Then we’ll have to do it tonight. Pack what you can. We’ll be back to get you in an hour.” 

“How are you going to get me out? The window is nailed shut, I can’t get out.” 

“Don’t worry. Just be prepare to run.” And with that, he left. You packed what you could. A few items of clothing, necessities, and water. You thought about leaving a note. Maybe telling your parents about your pregnancy, they had missed that part of your conversation, thank god. You decided against it, you still didn’t know what to do. Regardless, it was safe to say you could kiss your funding for school goodbye. You’d be on your own from now on. Well, not entirely. 

You heard shuffling outside your bedroom window and looked outside to see two dark figures racing past. You watched as Bellamy peered in, face also obscured by a mask, and waved at you. Jasper’s mask covered face popped into view and planted his palm on the window before holding up a notebook. 

“Get away from the window, and be prepared to run.” It read. As soon as you nodded in agreement, Jasper disappeared from view. You watched Bellamy swing his arms back with a crow bar in hand. The window shattered with a loud crash, glass flying all over your bedroom. He reached a hand out to you, his grasp firm as you clung to his forearm. You were pulled through to the outside and fell to the ground below. 

“Go, go, go, run!” Bellamy whispered, loudly. You looked up at your parent’s house as the sound of dogs barking rang in your ears. Lights flew on from the house as well as neighbor’s lights. You felt so stiff and ridged. The urge to run suppressed by your fear. Jasper reached down and took your hand in his. You looked up at him, his eyes wide with urgency. He tugged at your arm, begging you to get up and run with him. 

Suddenly, you felt free. You felt the strength to get up and push forward. Running with him to a car parked outside the house. The three of you bolted, tripping over yourselves as you raced against the clock. As soon as you were in the car, Octavia greeted you with a big toothy grin. 

“Drive! Drive!Drive!” Jasper shouted at her. Her smile disappeared as she looked back at Jasper with you before her attention went back to the car. The engined roared as she adjusted the gears and soon you were off. Still panting, you looked back at your childhood home and saw your parents tumble out of the front door to try and chase after the car. Your dad tried to chase after the car, but stopped when he realized it was no use. Their figures soon disappeared. 

Octavia cheered triumphantly as you turned back to catch your breath. A great big smile stretched across your face. You’d never felt so free before. You looked over to see Jasper still panting but sporting a bright smile as he looked at you. He reached a hand around the back of your head and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. You laughed and basked in the blissful feeling the adrenaline gave you. 

Soon the moment passed and you were left holding one another’s hand as Octavia drove you to Bellamy’s apartment. You stayed the night, planned your escape. Apparently Jasper’s parents didn’t know he was leaving either, meaning the two of you were officially on the run. You had to leave town, like, now. 

You pooled what money the two of you had, quick to take cash out of your account before your parents could freeze your debit card. Enough to get you out of town and settled in a hotel for a few nights, maybe even a few meals. But you couldn’t afford much without work after that. Lucky for the two of you, a friend from the dorms lived just a town over. You could stay with her a few days while you looked for work. 

“What are you going to do?” Bellamy asked with a dark expression as he stared at you. 

“What?” You were confused, hadn’t you just laid out your plan? 

“Jasper told me you were...you have another problem.” His eyes flashed between the two of you before resting on you again, he was careful to not say anything too pointed. 

“Oh...I...I don’t know.” You said under a whisper. Jasper rested a firm hand on your knee. 

“How long have you known?” Octavia asked. 

“Like a few days. Theres still time to think about it, I just...I just wanna get out right now.” Bellamy nodded his head. 

“If you guys need anything, don’t be afraid to call okay?” He handed you a prepaid phone. You thanked them for your help, packed up, and left the next night. You hid under masks and baseball hats as you sat at the bus station. The cool night air brushed against you skin as you admired the bright lights of the street lamps above. Jasper squeezed your hand in his to get your attention. You looked at one another and smiled under your mask. 

You’d never tell him this, but during the coarse of your relationship you had always worried about Jasper. Worried that maybe you weren’t as serious as you felt. Maybe you were just a little fun to him, the rush of a forbidden romance being what drove him to you. But now, with him so willing run. So willing to leave his comfortable life just for you. Regardless of the responsibilities that came with it. He chose you, without a second thought, he chose you. 

The dark street road was empty and serene. You watched as bats flew down to catch bugs that swarmed the lights above you. Despite your situation, you felt safe and warm there beside him. For the first time, you felt confident that everything is going to be okay. 

[sol-luminosus]

Same verse as that of ‘Creep’. Happening first chronologically before they ended up on the hallway. Only that this is a Hananene version.

A look into Amane’s own point of view of love.

Title: Lego House

Fandom: Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun

Pairing: Hananene

Genre: Romance/Angst

Rating: T

Chapters: 1 (One-shot)

Summary: And out of all these things I’ve done, I will love you better now.

Yugi Amane was captivated.

It coiled and coiled and turned in the very expanse of his chest, gripping his heart so hard and so intently that he was positive his chest would burst into a thousand pieces at any given minute.

 Nene was gazing at him questioningly, tilting her head of glittering silver locks so a few strands would cascade and slightly obscure her face as it waterfalled and framed the edge of her cheek.

He’d resisted the urge to tuck the stray pieces at the back of her ear.

Just by a moment’s brave surge of will to control himself.

Amane simply answered her concerned expression and previous barrage of questions about his well-being with a gentle smile, hoping that his beguiling expression would be enough to ease the worries in her mind.

He could tell however, that his strained effort had failed, given by the way her brows had furrowed further in a mixture of what seemed to be annoyance and worry from having something clearly hidden from her.

Indeed, the eyes were windows to the soul.

His in that very moment, must have been filled with desperation and longing. Perhaps at least surely, only those two emotions had leaked out.

She couldn’t have seen it, he was positive.

He’d never let her see it.

The clear and vulnerable emotion of love he’d tried so hard to will down and forever entomb in the very depths of his heart. It screamed so deafeningly, almost numbing his senses at times and making him forget of the actuality of things.

That he was dead and Nene wasn’t.

That his future was long gone with his wishes to remain rooted to where he is now as the only thing he should cling to,

That he had let go of his dreams to fly to the moon a long time ago.

A few decades which oddly, seemed to span for as long as an entire lifetime.

That at the very least, he knew he had the power to alter Nene’s fate.

So that he won’t drag her to the same empty abyss that he had long accepted to be irrevocably submerged in until the day he’d received his judgement.

This journey to redemption was and his alone. It will and would have nothing to do with her.

For a moment, he was sure his heart had swayed. When she’d regarded him with those iron-willed gems for eyes expressing her desire to live her life the way she wanted with a lifespan that could barely be a fistful, Amane just couldn’t seem to peel his eyes away from her. She’d called out to him—reached out with those two hands clasped together as if in a fervent prayer.

The same position as she had back when she’d first summoned him in the bathroom stall.

And all the while, although it was her own wish that should have nothing to do with him, she’d undauntedly declared that she would no matter what, journey to the moon together with him.

He knew he’d seen them before. On that very night however, they’ve shone and glimmered much more blindingly than they’ve ever before. The stars in her eyes had enthralled and bewitched him so that at that moment, he was certain he’d forgotten about anything else for a split second.

That he wasn’t the infamous Honorable No. 7 called Hanako-san.

That he was simply a child burdened with a sacrifice far too heavy for him to carry than what his small shoulders could have handled.

That he was just Yugi Amane, a socially awkward teenager who was in pieces and had eyes which reflected an unsettling amount of wisdom for his age.

And she was just Yashiro Nene, a girl with her head up in the clouds in search for dreams of true love and a promising long life ahead.

But he’d only forgotten for a split second.

How he’d wished, that he could’ve told her with all the honesty and transparency that his resigned heart could offer, that he was content enough with seeing the entire universe in the depths of those two luminous, ruby eyes.

Those very eyes he’d come to love ever since he was just at the tender age of nine all those years ago in that festival.

“Hanako-kun, what’s with you today? You keep spacing out for no reason and there’s clearly something wrong. I’m not going to stop prying unless you tell me—“

The sudden boisterous noise of the bathroom door swinging open and slamming on the wooden wall had both of them jumping out from their positions.

“Oi, Hanako! This is bad. Nii-san is out on a rampage right now because the mokke are running wild in the student council office. He’s talking about ‘exterminating all spirits’. What if he goes after you during his crazy fit?”

The golden specks in Amane’s eyes had turned dark with mischief, hovering over to the loud intruder in the name of Kou with a teasing expression and fingers touching his lips in a bid of mockery.

“Oh, what’s this? You’re suddenly so worried about me? Could it be? Are you in love with me?”

The blonde haired boy had reddened a dusty shade of pink from both shock and embarrassment, before the bellow of his voice had come booming in a strong effort of denial. “I am not, you crazy apparition! Maybe my brother’s already tried smacking you before I came here that’s why there’s suddenly something wrong with your head. In the first place the one I love is sen—“

His sentence had been cut off none too curtly, with an audible slap of skin ringing through the four corners of the room from having a palm slammed flatly over Kou’s mouth, effectively silencing him down. The leader of the School Wonders could barely show any sense of sympathy for the exorcist’s angered protests from the evident pain of having his teeth graze and split the skin of his lips.

“Oh, look at the time. Shouldn’t we hurry over to this mokke massacre you were talking about?” Amane had animatedly declared, glancing over to the wrist of his free arm where a nonexistent watch was strapped.

Kou had struggled to wheel away the hand clasped so tightly over his face. If he’d had the sense to be as livid as his brother would be in situations like these, then he’d be absolutely convinced that Amane had actually tried to suffocate him just to get him to stop talking, with the sheer amount of pressure he’d used reminding him far too irksomely of wood glue.

“What are you saying? We haven’t been here for long. In the first place we should hurry up and think of a strategy firs—“

For the second time on that afternoon, Kou had found himself being stopped midway of his musings, only having to have realized then that Nene had been in the bathroom all along. His eyes had grown wide with startlement, before having the familiar creep of a blush climb its way back up to his face with the difference in shade ten times as strong compared to the previous flush of color he’d donned just minutes earlier.

His dimwitted self which entirely lacks self awareness had almost confessed to her indirectly and in the middle of a bathroom of all places. Nene had only stared at him with an exasperated expression, a combination of what was obviously that of displeasure from the two of them bickering nonsensically and the urgency of the situation which they were very, very clearly stalling at that moment.

“Oh, yeah. You’re right! Let’s get going already.” Kou had laughed nervously to himself, the embarrassment hiking further up in his throat with his voice clearly about two octaves higher than normal before speeding up and out first out of the bathroom.

“What the heck was that about? Is there something wrong with my face?”

“Other than still looking human and not resembling a radish yet, I think you’re perfectly fine.”

Nene had turned to him with a brief look of irritation, before harshly spearing him on the head with the sharp ends of her hair pins.

“Hmph, stupid Hanako-kun acting all weird and suddenly calling me a radish, again.” She’d grumbled in frustration under her breath, with an injured Amane cradling his head in his palm and having his complaints about Yashiro’s ruthlessness ignored to be whisked away by the wind.

In the midst of his half-heartedly hurt reverie, his thoughts had peddled back to Kou’s would-have-been confession, noting how easy it was for him for the words to flow and cascade from his mouth.

And he was certain that had he been not there and the setting at the very least, had been somewhere that wasn’t as peculiar and off-putting as a bathroom, then the blonde boy would have not hesitated. He could picture him perfectly in his head, the words which Amane had kept from spilling running freely with his heart completely exposed and in its rawest for her to have as her own if Nene would willingly accept.

The very thought of her responding and reciprocating his feelings had caused an unutterable amount of fear to brew in Amane’s chest.

For he who was nothing more but a sham that could merely falsify and imitate what little of his memories could correctly recall as ‘life’, Kou was the living, breathing counterpart to his lies—someone who actually had the ability within his reach to promise her happiness.

He knew, and frankly, he didn’t really need to be reminded.

It was never a competition from the beginning.

And Amane was neither a willing contender.

His eyes in the shade of a precious mineral had darted on her back, watching with a somber fondness as the slope of her slight shoulders further sagged from her dipped mood exclusively caused by him just minutes prior.

Amane’s stare had narrowed in a sentiment of strangled affection, one that he was absolutely terrified for anyone or anything to ever decrypt from him.

“Maybe just for a little while. If it means I can keep you, I can stay in love with you for a little while longer.” The words had gone out and died in a whisper, coherent but with every syllable surely indistinct enough for anyone other than himself to understand.

She’d whirled her head around in query, certain that she’d heard him speak but not quite catching his words as she’d been lost in her own embittered sighs and grievances over the grating spectral being.

Amane had simply smiled at her, that same tenderly lonely smile he’d given her earlier that day when they were in the bathroom.

And Nene had only felt the same sting of emotion she’d felt back then as well; puncturing and aching yet beckoning her to him at the same time.

Creep: (Same verse/Tsukanene version)

[avionvadion]

(Collapses) An entire week... now it’s done... 

For Chapter 17, Return to the Mansion. Fanfic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115702/chapters/58056592

Previous Comic:

 https://avionvadion.tumblr.com/post/624957251803889665/avionvadion-collapses-i-did-it-guys-it-is

Also I made a ko-fi! If you guys like my art and would like to help support me by buying me a coffee, it would be greatly appreciated! 

https://ko-fi.com/avionvadion

STORY 

I took a deep breath and blinked rapidly, fighting the tears.

"I'm fine. It's fine. Damn it. Where's- ah, stairs. U-Up here… Sesshōmaru."

The demon and his servant followed after, Jaken surprisingly not yelling at me for once. I held onto the half-broken railing as we walked up the creaky steps, pausing only when the whispering of a hauntingly familiar voice reached my ears. Sesshōmaru looked down at me, reaching out and placing a hand over the sword handle- seeming to recognize the signs of me hearing voices already. The whole building reeked of death- I doubted even he could tell the scent of a moving corpse from a still one.

"No…" Please, let me be wrong about this. "No, no, no! Not her!"

I hurried up the staircase like the fool that I was and once at the top I saw someone standing at the other end of the hallway, slowly making their way over to us. That pink-and-white kimono was unmistakable and yet… something was wrong. It was covered in blood. The right side of her face was burned away, almost seeming to mimic that of what I had done to a very irritating incarnation so long ago.

"It is her…"

"What's going on!?" Jaken demanded, climbing up quickly when he saw that I had stopped. "Why the hold up!?"

"Otoki…" I choked out, stepping forward. "Otoki, no…"

"Where is my brother…? It hurts."

"I-I know…" Otoki never made it out of this castle, so of course she wasn't alive. She was dead right from the moment we left for Rindoh Village. I had known it all along and yet… it was still so hard to accept. The proof of it was right in front of me. "I know it hurts. I-I'm so sorry."

"I want go home…"

"I know. I know you do." I understand that more than anything else in this world. I want to go home as well.

Jaken's eyes widened as he watched this take place, leaning forward with intrigue. "She is communicating with the corpse's spirit! How mysterious. What do you think of this M'lord? Uh… M-M'lord?"

Otoki was right in front of me now, yet somehow I was unafraid of her. All I felt was sadness, my heart reaching out for this poor girl. All she had wanted was to see her little brother, to know he was doing alright without her. This child never deserved such a painful end. "I'm sorry…" She reached out, a dark aura emanating from her body. Dropping the mask and grabbing her wrists before she could touch my neck, I stared at the outcome of my own failure. If only I were stronger- if I wasn't so weak! I should have went with her and made sure she got out of the castle. Suddenly she moved forward, alarming strength pushing me back. "Wh-What!?"

She was so much younger than me; where did all this power come from? The edges of my heels met the top step of the staircase and I struggled to stay upright, knowing that if I fell I would snap my neck or break a bone. "Save me." She seemed to say, empty eyes boring into mine. "Free me from this spell. Please."

"O-Otoki!?"

That was when I saw him. Out of the corner of my vision was Sesshōmaru, blade held high in the air.

"N-No, wait-!"

His eyes were as cold as hardened gold. There had to be a way to save her aside from killing her! How was his weapon even working against the corpses? I still don't understand anything of what's going on! This can't be the only way! My protests fell on deaf ears and seeing the way he brought the sword down towards her I panicked. In my effort to stop him from slaying the child I released Otoki's wrists and lunged, desperately trying to grab him.

The corpse took that chance to wrap her arms around my waist, clinging tight and changing the direction of which I was moving with her dead weight. "No-!"

"I'm sorry."

Her lips parted and her mouth opened wide, teeth ready to dig into my wounded shoulder. Right as she was going rip apart my flesh Sesshōmaru mercilessly swung his sword... and then the voice stopped. I collapsed hard onto my front, the girl's body so heavy from death that it was crushing me. I didn't even have a chance to figure out what she meant by how to free her. She was gone.

"Wh-Why…?" I wheezed, shakily crawling out from beneath her. I rolled the girl's body over and weakly tugged her into my lap, sniffling. "Why did you do that!? Sh-She was- She was trying to tell me something! The spell it… it had a way to be broken! I-I could have saved her! You didn't have to just kill her, you jerk!"

I brought a hand to rest against the burned side of Otoki's face, guilt welling up inside my heart as I looked at her. After a short moment, I turned to glare at Sesshōmaru, not bothering to hide the betrayal in my voice.

"How could you?"

I was really starting to think he could have been someone I was able to trust, but now… frick. Damn it! I took a shaky breath and bowed my head, eyes squeezing tightly shut as I mourned. I was completely unaware of the pentagram being drawn at my feet or how the blue light from Otoki's mangled body began to take shape, icy cold flames dancing along my body. I wouldn't have even bothered looking up if I didn't feel a pair of hands cup my face, raising my chin gently.

I tensed and opened my eyes in confusion, only to stare in shock at the person in front of me.

Her visage was so ghostly and transparent, and for a moment I thought she wasn't even there at all. She looked so unlike her corpse, all injuries and blood gone from her flesh and kimono. It almost felt like I was viewing a completely different person. The child pulled her hands away and smiled warmly at me, several fiery butterflies flapping around her. "Hello, Irene."

"O… Otoki?"

She rose from the pentagram, the fire seeming to give her shape. It was so different from the way the other undead behaved after being destroyed. It was almost as if the Shikigami reached out to her spirit before it could fade away, giving her one last chance to speak. I felt almost certain that was exactly what had happened,  and yet… how? What was that light that appeared when she and all the other corpses were slain? Was it their souls?

Did Sesshōmaru actually free them after all?

The young girl laced her fingers together in front of her, eyeing me warmly for a moment before turning to see Sesshōmaru, watching him tuck his sword away back into its sheath. She was just as adorable as when we first met. "Thank you so much!" She said, leaning down in a deep bow to show her respect. "You saved me!"

"He… He did?" I asked, stunned at the confirmation. "Sesshōmaru… saved you?"

The spirit stood up straight and her smile softened, noticing how confused I was. She nodded at my words. "Yes. Because of his sword I was able to break through the spell that was placed on me. I always thought demons were scary… especially when they came and attacked the castle. But you saved me, Mister Demon." She looked up at him, tears filling her eyes. "It's thanks to you that I can sleep soundly now and see my little brother again. Thank you. Thank you so much, Mister Demon."

The flames grew brighter around her for a moment before they started to dissipate, the butterflies flying downwards to the pentagram below. Otoki was starting to lose her form. "W-Wait! Don't go! I-!"

There were so many things I wanted to say to her.

To tell her.

So much was running through my mind, suffocating and overwhelming, and I ended up losing track as my mind went blank. My voice died on my lips. Otoki knelt down beside me, staring at me with sad eyes. Those eyes… they would still be full of life if I had taken a different path. If I had thought to bring her with us, or to go with her and ensure she got out of the castle, she might still be alive. I was just so angry at Naraku that I didn't think straight.

And because of that she paid the price.

"I… I'm so sorry…"

Otoki shook her head at me, moving close and resting her forehead against mine. It was such an odd feeling as the fire was somehow cold. I wondered if it they were the flames of death. "Naraku is the one who did this." She told me, hands grasping my shoulders gently. "You tried to save me."

The girl then leaned forward, wrapping her arms around me.

"You held me like this once, remember? You said it was for my brother who couldn't be there for me. This time… this embrace is for you- from the both of us."

"No…" Keeping hold of the corpse's head with one hand so not to drop the body, I reached out out with my other arm to try and reciprocate, holding her tight. My voice cracked, heart feeling as if it was being crushed in a vice. "P-Please… don't go."

"Thank you, Irene…" She pulled back, freckled face smiling at me. "Farewell!"

"Otoki-!" My fingers faded through the flames as she vanished, the butterflies flapping their winds and disappearing into the pentagram. The fire around me burned brighter, flickering angrily in the air as the cold blue turned icy hot. "N-Not… Not… Not y-you, too-!"

The airways in my throat closed up and my breath came out in stuttered bursts, the pain flowing through me unbearable. I heaved and gasped, shaking uncontrollably as the sobs wracked my body so hard I was leaning over, feeling as though I were about to vomit. I tried desperately to stop it, tired of crying and frustrated by all the loss happening in this world, but there was no end to it. My lips curled back and my teeth ground so tight together it hurt.

Otoki's final words echoed in my mind.

Naraku was the one who did this. He took her and the samurai away, placing them under a spell and using them against us. I bet he even had Anastasia burn her face for some sick kind of message, as if to warn me against harming Kagura again. Bastard. I turned to look at Sesshōmaru and Jaken, anger settling in and fusing with the sorrow.

"A-All these people… i-in the… the castle… they're being controlled by Naraku?"

Jaken took a step back to avoid being touched by one of the embers, hiding behind his master. "Uh, y-yes… If you destroy a corpse that's under a spell, the spirit will go free. But only if you're Lord Sesshōmaru, of course!"

"Why… Why only him?"

Otoki said it had something to do with his sword. How could a weapon with a dull blade, incapable of harming enemies, save a spirit?

Jaken grinned widely, proud to be speaking of his master. "Lord Sesshōmaru is the only one capable of wielding the tenseiga- a weapon crafted from his father's mighty fang, a blade used to slay the undead!"

"And… you knew about this?" I looked up at the great dog demon, uncertainty in my gaze. When he saved me downstairs when I was cornered by all those zombies it was the tenseiga that he used. The blue light that I saw erupting from their bodies were their souls drifting away to freedom. "About their spirits?"

Sesshōmaru gave no verbal response. The neutral expression he wore, however, told me everything I needed to know. Facing Otoki once more and breaking out into several rough coughs, I willed the flames to dissipate. The world began to spin as a result and I found myself hunching over, staring into the deformed face of the girl I barely had time to call a friend.

I seriously hated Naraku.

He's so… awful. It's to the point where he can't even be described as bad or evil. He's just… awful. There's so much wrong with him and all that he does. I'm so tired of it. All these innocent people are being murdered because of his own selfish desires. Stubbornly ignoring the pain in my chest as I started to wheeze, I pulled out the broken pinwheel that sat in my pocket and tucked the end of the stick into her obi, making sure it would stay with her. Juzo really did work so hard on that gift.

"I'll get him back," I promised her, voice a low trembling growl, "Naraku won't get away this, s-so… so… just rest now, okay? Give your little brother a hug for me?"

Moving slowly, I set the girl's corpse down on the ground and closed her one open eye.

"I-It'll be… alright. No one can… No one can hurt you now."

Ohh, it hurts so much. The tears don't want to stop. Speaking is taking so much out of me, but… this war isn't over. We still need to get to that monster waiting in the tower. Jaken tapped his foot irritably against the ground, losing his patience waiting for me. "What are you doing!?" He demanded, voice rising up in pitch again. "How much longer do you intend to keep Lord Sesshōmaru waiting!?"

I said nothing, struggling to regain control of my emotions and calm down enough to get oxygen flowing decently again. The silver-haired demon, however, focused on the gremlin with a cold stare, calling out with a sharp tone, "Jaken."

"See!" The gremlin exclaimed, then turned to face his master expectantly. "Wh-What is it, Lord Sesshōmaru?"

He narrowed his eyes at the demon. "Leave the woman alone."

The gremlin jumped, startled by the harshness of his voice, before sinking down and backing away in fright. "Y-Yes, M'lord…"

I really don't want to do this anymore. I don't care how much it hurts me; I'm not gonna hold back. Naraku has lived and tormented others long enough. Anastasia was the one who summoned me and my sister here, anyway, so I'll just get my answers out of her. For now that wretched half-demon needed to die. I stood up and wobbled, dragging my feet over to the mask that was on the ground. My body felt so numb.

I brought my sleeve up and wiped at my face, sniffling loudly as I knelt down down and picked up the fallen object. I held it with both hands, fiddling with it for a moment, before forcing myself to go over to where Sesshōmaru was standing. There was a huge misunderstanding and I needed to set it right. "Se… Sesshōmaru…?"

His piercing gaze focused on me. My heart caught in my throat and for a moment I forgot how to talk.

"I… wh-what you did… o-or were doing with the… the corpses; I-I didn't realize. You were saving her a-and… I yelled at you. I shouldn't have… done that. I'm sorry."

I sniffled, blinking several times as I raised my head up to meet his intimidating gaze once more. There were still so many things I had yet to learn about the Feudal Era and its inhabitants, and there were a lot of supernatural powers that I remained to lack understanding of. And although I was dizzy and angry, and so many other things, at this exact moment only one emotion was rising strongly enough to the surface that I wanted to express it.

And that was gratitude.

"But… I-I want to thank you." I smiled warmly at him, clutching the hem of my sweater tightly and holding the mask to my side. "Y-You didn't have to save them, but you did. Otoki and the… the samurai that attacked me earlier. You freed them and… stopped the voices. So… thank you."

I wiped at my face again, trying to brush away the tears that were falling once more. My head was pounding furiously at me. It seriously wanted a break from all these emotions; I felt so worn.

"Y-You're seriously amazing, Sesshōmaru. You're even putting up with all my nonsense." I sniffed. "I-I'll take you to the tower now, so… yeah. Thank you. I-It's this way. This castle could do without an evil spider or two."

I rose the mask up to my face and tied it on, blinking several times as I wobbled to the next doorway. The moldy, musty air became filtered through the holes in the mask, clearing my lungs and straightening out my blurry vision. I was just going to keep this wretched thing on for the rest of my time here; I kept taking it off because I hated wearing masks- something that was mostly brought on from all the days I had to wear my respirator- but this thing was incredible. What was Sango's secret to making it?

[jae-canikeepyou]

| hey m.v.p. | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: fluff

a/n: okay. this is not the first that i’ve written a scenario based on basketball, so i hope this can maybe(?) make your hearts giddy again? also! it’s really not proof read nor well written but please do enjoy reading! hehehe 🥰 ~j.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the continuous, long, ringing sound of the impact from the bouncing amber colored ball boasted its decibels at the outdoor mini court.

today was another date with your boyfriend; a varsity basketball player of the university. unlike most couples, girls would wait for their darlings to finish a game. for you however, would join him for a one-on-one match. serious or not he’d always let you play; not because he would go easy on you, but because you knew how to take on his challenge.

jaehyun called a timeout, noticing how heavy you exhaled and your lungs struggled to catch breath. he tossed you a bottle and you gladly took it to quench yourself. he watched you standing at the center of the mid-court, the sun’s rays acting like your glowing background, defining beauty and a heaven-sent figure he was blessed to have.

feeling squirmy and shy around you was something he couldn’t resist to feel out in the public. he was affectionate with skinship and you didn’t mind that at all.

“baby!” you jogged towards your boyfriend, helping him wipe the rolling beads of sweat by his temples and forehead. “teach me how to nail a through-the-leg shot.”

“why?” he interlocked his fingers behind you so you wouldn’t escape.

he copied and mimicked your whines because it was the nth time you have asked him, and he always refused to teach you. “but every time i do it i miss a shot-” your words close to inaudible but jaehyun understood what you meant and he pressed his lips. “-or i end up falling.” you shrugged.

“y/n. your form’s okay. it’s just your jump landing and timing.” he pinched your cheeks lightly. “i wanna teach you but i don’t want my baby to get hurt, so no.”

you took the towel that was placed on his head as he took the ball, feeling bummed that this time yet again he wouldn’t teach you. he gestured you to go to him and you obliged no matter how salty you slightly felt towards him.

a short break was enough for you both to continue with the sport. with all the small matches you’ve played against him, there was one thing you’ve always known: jaehyun was very competitive, so whatever ball game or any game you both played, he was always, always going to play it better. you loved how concentrated his eyes were, the tiny smirk when you were open, the deepening of his dimples once the ball went in the hoop, and the victorious stretch of his arms as he celebrated.

he dribbled the ball and you tried to steal it away from him, but given your smaller frame with his, he probably held himself back and went a little lenient to you. “there’s a game that mark taught me. it’s called h.o.r.s.e. we played it for at least thirty minutes. wanna give it a shot?” he stopped moving and spun the ball on his pointer finger.

“okay!” you cheered, making him smile wider at the willingness you showed. “how does it go?”

“i’ll do a move and you follow what i do, but you’ll gain a letter if you failed to shoot. the game ends when either of us reaches ‘e’.” he tossed the ball to you. “i’ll let you start.”

“hold on, i feel hot.” you dropped the ball to hold in between your feet, and removed the thin layer of jacket sticking to your skin. you wore a loose white crop top over the new sports bra you bought and grey sweatpants.

jaehyun averted his gaze although he blushed unnecessarily at your carefree action. he cleared his throat from thinking of unnecessary thoughts entering his brain. he tossed you the ball again and the game started with you doing a simple free throw; followed by his layups and double clutch. the punishment were always the same; buy food for the other. this time you didn’t want to lose and made sure you make the shot while he misses.

he began to smirk, something he’d usually do to signal you. the battle was on. there was no way he would lose this, so he went for a move that he knew you wouldn’t do. you guessed it, the through-the-leg shot. however he groaned right after he realised what he had done, and was too late when you got the ball in your palms.

you attempted the move and just when you thought you had it, the ball missed the ring and fell— so was the view before your eyes, you were falling too. the good thing was you managed to get on your toes, but collapsing on your knees afterwards.

“aww, that’s an ‘e’ for me.” you hissed and laid down on the ground, defeated again.

“it’s okay.” he helped you up and hugged, but you immediately pulled yourself away from him.

“tsk, you’re sticky.” you ran towards the bench, to no avail he picked you up and turned you non-stop. “put me down jae.”

jaehyun loved spoiling you the way he could get his chance upon, that included almost every little thing you did— from the pursed lips when you were feeling embarrassed to your breaking smile that sent his heart flying everywhere. however, he wasn’t the only one you sent his heart flying and bursting in the sky.

it was a given that in the campus, you weren’t part of the ‘visual spectrum’ the students have created, but it was your beautiful soul and kind-hearted personality that attracted them to you. and jaehyun was pulled to you like a magnet once his friends continuously nudged each other that one time at the locker hall. since then he was one of those secret admirers who skilfully and secretly left you letters after class, a carton of juice or milk in your bag, and offered you an umbrella on rainy days.

you didn’t like the attention, in all honesty you weren’t even craving for some. there were worries whether if you had done something wrong that caused them to talk about you all the time despite being a transfer student of the creative media department. so that one day when your friend invited you to watch a basketball match, it was when you saw jaehyun for the first time.

the team noticed your existence at one area of the blenchers. imagine the impact they gave when they all stared at you like meerkats and yet smiled like adorable quokkas. one certain quokka however got your attention, well not because he had dimples, but because he was hit in the face with a basketball.

let us all say you became friends and he invited you to be in his group project. great chemistry and ideals for each other. what made jaehyun fall for you even more was that, you played basketball, just like him.

the memory of that time was interrupted with jaehyun leaving you at the bench, off to somewhere the heavens knew where. as you waited, your eyes led to the ball, tempting you to try out the skill you’ve always failed at. this is the chance, you thought. dribbling the ball several times, your attempts to try it failed miserably again.

you stood right at the arc of the lines beneath your shoes. determination fired your eyes and felt like goku from the dragon ball animation. the repetitive sentence echoed your ears, telling yourself ‘you could do it’. however that was stopped when players you’ve never seen before circled around you, almost hovering your small frame.

“hey, mind if we.. teach you?” they offered, but their intentions were very transparent. and you should’ve worn your jacket.

“no thanks. i pretty much can handle it myself.” you picked the ball up and went back to the bench, only to be stopped halfway when one of them grabbed your wrists. “let go.”

a smug look on their faces had you stepping backwards. “little miss killjoy, we’re offering you help-”

“she’s already gotten help.” jaehyun soon came behind you and your back hit his chest.

“who the heck are you?” they asked as if putting up a front would scare him.

“i’m her boyfriend and i’d appreciate it if you lot stop staring at her like that.” he let you sit on the bench once they scurried off, placing his towel on your head that was large enough to reach your lap. “from now on you’re wearing my my jacket and don’t take it off.”

you gulped when he stared into your eyes, full of worry and as if he sent protective shields to wrap around you. “the weather’s getting hot jae, and do you want me to die out of so much heat?”

“it’s better than getting your skin so exposed like earlier. you know you attract guys in the way i can’t tolerate.”

ah this argument again. more fingers and toes were needed to count because this wasn’t the first time jaehyun has been protective of you; although you couldn’t really blame him as to the whole campus— maybe to the majority of your admirers, he did win your heart. it wasn’t that you hated that side of him, you couldn’t bring it up to tell him that it limits you to be free.

a sigh was heard from your lips, catching his attention and he knelt down to see you properly. “but i’m not hiding anything!” you whined, removing the towel and jacket all at the same time, jaehyun startled at your childish response.

he arched his brows like he had something up in his sleeves. “really? you’re not hiding anything?” his palms reached for the ends of your sweatpants. he pulled and rolled them up until the fabric reached your thighs.

“what are you- look jae i swear i’m not hiding-” you then hissed at the pain soon as the wind hit your wounded, scarred knees.

“well?” he asked, tearing off the plaster packaging with his teeth and cleaned the wounds on both. “you’re not good at hiding something like this though.”

a spread of heat and embarrassment crawled your cheeks. “how did you know?”

jaehyun let out a soft chuckle. “you’re easy to read, honey.” he planted a kiss on your forehead and sat beside you. “you should’ve told me you’re in pain- why are you staring at me like that?”

he saw how your eyes widened and they asked for a quick stare contest. he was definitely lured into you, and that wasn’t new to him. “what?” he questioned again.

“ugh no good. i can’t read you at all.” you defeatedly laid on the bags. “i was confused why you left so suddenly. i thought you felt guilty because i lost the game and that you bought us snacks. i didn’t know you went all the way to tend me.”

“at the beginning of our relationship i told you i’ll treat you like a princess.” he pulled you close to him. “so let me treat you like one.”

“i’m no damsel in distress.” you rolled your eyes, a faint smile curving by the corners of your lips.

“uh clearly you were? i saved your butt from those guys.”

“and you saved me again with this.” you pointed at the carefully-plastered knees of yours and nudged him. “m.v.p.”

jaehyun felt you kiss his cheek, stunned with the title you named him. “i call you all cute nicknames and that’s all i’m gonna get? and you know i’m already the m.v.p.” his bummed voice caused you to giggle.

“not in basketball.” you reasoned.

“you expect me to play ‘guess the word’ now? because y/n, i’m not in the mood for-”

“you’re my valiant prince. m. v. p.”

jaehyun now laid on your lap, covering his ears at sudden nickname; obviously was awestruck and have never blushed so hard in his entire life.

[zhong-taro]

shotaro as a friendly ghost

 this is 2.8k words of shotaro and taeyong interacting and yes it’s all self-indulgent

tw: small mention of suicide, but it’s marked very clearly!

Ok so this is definitely part of a longer, more detailed AU that I’ll probably go into more later (like way later)

bUT let’s start here - Shotaro is a friendly ghost

Oh my g o d he’s such a sweetie you have no idea

When he dies, it’s something really dumb

He and his parents had moved to Korea after his father had sold his company and suddenly come into a significant amount of money 

It’s enough that they buy a large plot of land in Korea

Shotaro is about five years old when they buy the land and start construction on the house

It’s positioned at the top of a large hill that looked down over a small Korean town, and in the hot summers the house provided shade for a park, and when it rained the house blocked from too much flooding

Well, once it was finally built it did

It took five years for this absolute MANSION of a house to be built. Shotaro and his family had lived in a small rental home in the town, acquainting themselves with everyone and becoming established members of the community

When the place was finally finished, Shotaro was ten and the Osaki’s would have large gatherings of people at their home most weekends, with large parties every holidays

Originally, the family had built such a large home because they planned on taking in many foster children and helping to raise orphaned children

They never get to

The 1950’s were an absolute golden era for the Osakis, they’re loved by everyone around them and their perfect little boy Shotaro shines in Korea like he never had in Japan

Until in 1959, when they suffer great tragedy and the family is never the same again

Personally, Shotaro thinks he couldn’t have had a dumber death

He was nineteen and it was the night before the town dance contest. He was more than nervous - his parents had already been taking him out of town for dance lessons because he was too scared that the entire town would think he was bad at dancing, but now he was actually facing them

All of these people had known him since he was a toddler, he couldn’t handle the idea of all of them thinking he was bad at something he had found he loved

So he couldn’t sleep

And he had wandered downstairs, grabbing a cup of water and taking it back to his bedroom

However, he had tripped on the top step while going back to his bedroom and spilled water all over the hardwood floor

When he took the last step to try and clean up the spilled water, he slipped and fell down the stairs

Unfortunately, the Osaki parents woke up to a gruesome scene of their son dead at the entryway to their home

Shotaro thought he woke up, but when he stood up and his body didn’t stand with him, he knew something was wrong

And when his mother walked down the stairs (through him, mind you) and screamed, sobbing into his body, he realized that things might’ve been worse than he realized

It didn’t take long to figure out that he had died

(( tw // suicide for the next two bullet points ))

His parents couldn’t handle the pain

After his funeral, it took less than a month for both of his parents to commit suicide

Shotaro had been hoping that they would also become ghosts, but no such luck

So he was left alone, in a huge house that hadn’t seemed nearly as lonely only a month before

Of course he tried to leave, but he could never get past the gates that marked his parent’s property at the bottom of the hill

And so he sat in his house

For decades

Throughout the years, the house decayed and became decrepit. The chandelier fell one year, leaving glass scattered across the front entryway

Books became dusty, all but the ones in the library because Shotaro spent most of his time in that room and watched the days go by through the stories he would read

And when he opened up the windows on a nice spring day and leaned out, looking over the small town that he had loved so much, he heard the rumors

Tales of the haunted house at the top of the hill, told by a new generation of children who had never seen the Osaki home in its original glory

And Shotaro felt the repeating disappointment when a child would look into the windows, seem to spot him, and yelp before running away

So Shotaro becomes a recluse - not because he wanted to, but because he has to

After about 15 years, people start trying to sell the house

He doesn’t let that happen. Shotaro had become quite the… depressed person since his parents death. He had never really been given the opportunity to react to things as they happen. He’s always to put down the book and take a few deep breaths before continuing, or just walk away from the window when the rumors become too upsetting

But when that first person - a potbellied, middle aged man - comes to see the house in the interest of buying it, Shotaro sees red

And so he does what he thinks ghosts are supposed to do

He scares the man off

Years later he looks back and sees how bad of a ghost he was, but that just means that the guy must’ve been real cowardly

Because all he has to do is open a few windows, move around a few glasses, make some scary noises, and the guy is turning on his tail and sprinting out the door

More people come back - a family of three very wealthy foreigners who don’t speak the language, one rich old woman who decides the house would be too much upkeep six sons with two tired parents who decided there was too much room for trouble, and probably dozens more

The ones that don’t decide to move out on their own, Shotaro scares off

He gradually gets better at it - it’s hard to learn how to keep himself transparent at first

He thinks that he can become completely invisible, slightly translucent, or almost-solid but he’s never spoken to someone to figure it out

But as he watches the house crumble more and more around him, it gets more and more difficult to scare away the shoppers

He just wishes somebody other than pretentious jerks would come looking. He likes the original gothic architecture his parents designed, and he knows the house would be beautifully unique if somebody came along to restore it. But he’s not sure if he likes the idea of someone else coming into his house

Although he doesn’t have much of a choice after a while

The man comes along with the same real estate agent who’s been trying to sell Shotaro’s house for at least five years now

He’s pretty sure the woman knows he’s haunting the house, because she shoots glares into the empty air where he makes strange noises or moves furniture, but that sure doesn’t stop him from scaring all her clients away

When she steps in, she holds the open for a red haired man with a sharp jaw

He whistles as he looks around the large entryway, the noise echoing. He looks down at the large chandelier, still shattered on the marble floor, and raises one eyebrow at the agent

“What happened there?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s been there ever since I started trying to sell this place.”

“Have you tried to have it cleaned?”

“Of course,” she looks a little insulted. “But the… ghost,” she glares into the empty air, across the room from where Shotaro is currently floating, “Seems to scare everyone off before they can get much done.”

The man smirks, turning away from her and looking around the entire room. He stands in silence for a few moments, scanning everything (Shotaro tries to ignore how nervous he feels when the man’s eyes briefly pause at his place at the old dining room table, but he tries a lot harder to not think about the point of his teeth)

“I’ll take it.”

The man shows up again the next day, and Shotaro is not happy about it

When he arrives, Shotaro is standing on the stairs and glaring at the front door

After unlocking the doors and stepping in, the red-haired man placed his hands firmly on his hips and smiled while looking around the room

“My name is Lee Taeyong.” the man announced loudly. The smile didn’t slip off of his face as the silence of the house continued. “I was born in 1995,” (how has that much time passed since he died?) “I’m a vampire, and I promise I will treat your home with respect.” 

Well. That’s interesting

But Shotaro chooses to gloss over the vampire thing and scoffs, storming up the stairs

The man - supposed vampire - doesn’t go into any rooms or even go upstairs on the first night. He just sleeps (pretends to sleep? Do vampires sleep? Are vampires even real? Shotaro stows all these thoughts away to deal with later) on the couch after ordering food in.

When he wakes up in the morning, Taeyong still has that obnoxious smile on as he looks around at nothing. Shotaro is there, watching and making sure the man doesn’t mess anything up

So when Taeyong fiddles at the dining room table, which only has three working legs and is almost broken in half, and asks the room “Would you be ok with me getting rid of this table?” Shotaro throws a glass at his head

He misses, intentionally obviously, and the old glass cup shatters against the peeling wallpaper of his dining room. Taeyong snorts and holds his hands up in surrender “Alright, no table. Hey, can you throw another glass if you’re a male ghost, please?”

Shotaro throws another glass, and once again ignores the point of the new man’s teeth

Later in the morning, early afternoon, Taeyong starts looking around the house.

“Are you  gonna try and kill me again if I go upstairs?” He asks, and Shotaro does nothing but cross his arms from where he’s sitting on the dusty banister

“I’ll take that as a no.”

And so they head upstairs. Taeyong stops in front of every doorway, and if Shotaro doesn’t want him going in the room he makes the door shake and bangs on the wall a few times

Taeyong doesn’t understand this message at first, and when he almost opens the door to Shotaro’s parent’s room he loses it

The ghost bangs on the door so hard the whole thing shakes, making what little art that was still hanging shudder. He yells for effect, coming out more of an angry groan (because he still can’t quite talk to humans when he’s invisible), and shoves Taeyong away from the door

The older (well, physically older) man looks shocked and stands still for a moment staring at the door, before shaking his hand and smiling a little. “Alright, I get the message Mr. Ghost.”

Shotaro only stops him again at his own bedroom door and his library, everywhere else he lets Taeyong explore. The vampire goes back to one of the guest rooms with an en suite and asks if he can keep this room as his own

Shotaro reluctantly lets him take the room, and tries to tell himself that this man is not going to be the one who ends up staying in his house

Again, the night Taeyong orders food in and eats on his own

Although before ordering the food, he grabs a box that had showed up on the front doorstep when Shotaro wasn’t looking

He floats around Taeyong as the other man carried the box to the only table not broken (a coffee table) and opens it with his unnaturally sharp nails. Shotaro’s nose crinkles at the bags of warm blood, and he reaches in to shift them around

“Animal blood,” Taeyong says quickly. “I promise I’m not a murderer, ghost friend.”

Shotaro has to look away as Taeyong drinks it, and gags for the first time since he’s died when he uses the animal blood as a topping for his burger and fries

The next morning, Shotaro comes out of his library after a night of reading and smells breakfast. When he goes downstairs, he’s greeted with Taeyong, dancing a little to a song playing out of a small metal box that Shotaro doesn’t understand and making breakfast

Shotaro peeks over Taeyong’s shoulder to see the bacon, eggs, and pancakes he’s making

He lets himself float up a little and pushes open the window open right above the counter

“Oh!” Taeyong looks up with wide eyes, looking around. “Hello, Mr. Ghost!” He smiles and his eyes pause where Shotaro floats before continuing to look around. “I’m not sure if you can eat, but if you can you’re welcome to some of the food.”

Shotaro can’t eat, but he appreciates the gesture

Through the next few days, they fall into a rhythm

Taeyong doesn’t seem to sleep, but meditates. He never goes fully unconscious but he does seem to float a little bit. Every other day the box of blood arrives and Taeyong drinks some with every meal, plus three full glasses throughout the rest of the day, and Shotaro learns to live with it

Shotaro won’t let Taeyong into only two rooms, but lets the vampire look around the rest of his home

They fight over a few things, like fixing different things up, but not much. Eventually Shotaro lets him buy new furniture and doesn’t object when the man adds a few new paintings to the walls

Shotaro finds himself thinking that maybe this one person (undead vampire?)  might not be so bad to live with - for now, at least

Shotaro walks into his library one day, about a month into living together, and finds Taeyong already there. He tries not to get angry, and feels a wave of emotions when he sees that Taeyong is staring up at the portrait of the Osaki family hanging between two large windows. He distantly notices that the man is sitting on the only section of couch without direct sunlight landing on it

He lets the door creak and close noisily as he steps inside, tries to will the wind from the open windows to grow a little colder as he floats next to where Taeyong is sitting

“Which one are you?”

Shotaro wishes he could respond, and looks around desperately for a way to show him

He grabs a dead flower from a large vase sitting on the end table and uses it to point to his face, the painted-him smiling slightly between his two parents and looking as awkward as he always felt in life

Taeyong sighs a little. “You must be so young…” He stares at where he must estimate Shotaro’s head is, judging by the floating flower, and smiles sadly. “I can’t believe the ghost haunting my house is a teenager.”

The painting rumbles a little as the wall shakes.

“Fine, sorry,” Taeyong chuckles a little. “Your house.”

Shotaro can see a shift in Taeyong’s behavior after that

The man seems to actively seek him out and starts talking to him more and more

He starts asking more questions - mostly things Shotaro can’t figure out how to answer - and becomes more joke-y with him

“Can I see you?”

Shotaro freezes from his perched position on a chair across from Taeyong.

“I don’t know if you even know how to show me what you look like, but I’ve been living here for 3 months, don’t you think it’d be more comfortable if I actually knew where you were?” Taeyong is looking at where Shotaro has his book propped up as he marks his page and puts it down

With very little effort, he wills himself into view. Not fully - he still isn’t sure he can even do that - but enough that his features are visible

Taeyong stares for a few moments before speaking

“You’re a baby.”

Shotaro gapes for a moment before laughing, a soft sound that sounds muted in his non corporeal form.

“You can’t be anything but a teenager, how old are you?” Taeyong’s surprised look has slipped off his face and now he looks more curious and excited.

“Well, physically 19,” Shotaro speaks slowly, trying to get used to the way his voice sounds - he hasn’t spoken much since his death. “But I died in 1959”

Aaaand Taeyong gapes again

“Holy crap, that was 50 years ago!”

Shotaro tilts his head to the side a little, thinking. “Really? Hmm, I didn’t realize it was so long ago.”

Taeyong smiles again, leaning forward as he pushes away his breakfast plate. “What’s your name, ghost-teenager?”

“Shotaro, Osaki Shotaro.”

“Nice to meet you Shotaro,” Taeyong grins at him, hair falling into his face. “I’m Taeyong.”

[fictionaffliction]

Better Forgotten

Chapter Two

Pairings: Loki/OC

Summary: Dr. Ingrid Hansen is a respected psychologist struggling with the aftermath of the Snap as well as her own trauma from an accident she endured many years ago. Her world is thrown into utter chaos when she meets a dangerous man posing as a client. Dr. Strange is reluctantly tasked with protecting her, but in order to do so, he must first help her recover who she truly is. While she is grateful for his help, she has to wonder, are some things better forgotten?

Rated M

Chapter Warnings: Canon typical violence, memory loss, chronic pain

June 6, 2024

The clock seemed too loud in Dr. Hansen’s office as the afternoon sun filtered through the unshaded windows. She glanced up at it, annoyed.

2:30 . Her clients were due half an hour ago. She swallowed her frustration and massaged her brow as she picked up the phone and called her receptionist, Lauren, whose desk was down the hall.

“Yes, Dr. Hansen?” Her voice was chipper, likely because of how much coffee she drank.

“It looks like the Coopers are a no-show. Can you please phone them and see if you can get them to reschedule?” Ingrid said, looking over their file. It was disappointing to see them skip an appointment. They had made good progress over the last two months.

“Sure thing. Would you like me to send in your next client?”

“He’s here already?”

“Yep.”

Ingrid was used to people being right on time or five minutes late. To be half an hour early was nearly unheard of in her practice.

“Sure, send him in,” Ingrid.

“You got it!” Lauren said and hung up the phone. Ingrid found herself smiling at her young employee’s enthusiasm. Sometimes she wished she could bottle some of that energy for herself. She took a moment to refresh her lipstick in the mirror she kept in her desk drawer and smooth the stray hairs that had escaped her barrette.

There was a hesitant knock on her office door and she put the mirror away. She stood and straightened her skirt, crossed the plush carpeted floor, and opened the door.

The man at the threshold was tall and slim, wearing a dark suit and deep green tie, which only served to emphasize his pale complexion. His coal-black hair was combed neatly back, which almost hid how long it was. She smiled up at him pleasantly, not allowing herself to linger on the strangeness of his presentation. He stared back at her with striking green eyes. Something about him seemed slightly familiar, but she couldn’t place it. For just a moment, he looked ever so slightly unnerved, but she blinked and his expression was once again composed.

“Mr. Lawson?” she asked, holding out her hand.

“Yes,” he said in a voice just slightly deeper than she had expected. He took her hand gently. “Dr. Hansen?”

She nodded and opened the door wider. “Come in.”

He stepped into the room and looked around. The office was decorated in Ingrid’s favored modern style, with tones of soft grey and blue being the dominant color scheme. She found the colors to be calming.

“You have a lovely office,” he commented, searching for something to say. She kept her face in its practiced neutral expression as she made note of his body language. He held his hands clasped in front of him. His posture was excellent but rigid, with his chin held a little higher than what she would consider to be normal.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “I like to keep the space organized. I find that it invites a clear mind.” She gestured to the soft blue couch with an open hand in invitation. “Have a seat,” she said as she settled into the short-backed chair on the other side of the coffee table, crossing her ankles gracefully. He sat, but only after she was sitting.

“Would you like anything before we begin?” Ingrid asked.

“No, thank you,” he said, settling in his seat. She flipped open a legal pad in a handsome leather portfolio.

“Your first name is Walter, yes?” she asked. He nodded. “Well, Walter, what do you do for a living?”

“Advertising,” he answered in an almost practiced way. She scratched a note on her pad.

“Ah, psychology’s evil twin,” she quipped. He smirked.

“I suppose so.”

“And what brings you in today?” This was the first hurdle. Sometimes a client wouldn’t be fully transparent and Ingrid would have to coax it out of them. Walter shifted in his seat and cleared his throat.

“I’m...I’m looking to reconnect with my wife,” he answered, his voice tense. She nodded in acknowledgment, taking another note. “I was told that you were the person to come to for this sort of thing.”

She smiled. “Well, marriage and family counseling is my specialty.” She pointed her pen at her degree on the wall. He remained stiff. Best to stay on topic, she decided. “Are you and your wife separated?” He nodded, thin lips pursed as though he was deciding what he would and wouldn’t tell her. “Divorced?”

“No.” His tone was final. She watched him closely, eyes betraying nothing but patience. He seemed to realize how rude he had sounded. “We never discussed it,” he amended. Her eyes darted to his ring finger, still adorned with a gold band carved with designs she couldn’t quite make out. He followed her gaze. “I never had the heart to take it off.”

“You sound a little embarrassed about that,” Ingrid observed. His knuckles turned white as he briefly clenched his fist.

“I’m not known for being particularly sentimental.”

Ingrid looked up from her notes and smiled softly. “Then you have made a very brave choice in coming here. It can be difficult to allow yourself to be vulnerable.” He chuckled and shook his head as though trying to shrug off the idea.

Ingrid let him linger a moment in the silence that followed before calling him back to the present. “How long have you been separated?” she asked.

He thought for a moment. “About thirteen years.”

She raised her eyebrows and leaned forward, lacing her fingers together. “That’s a long time.” He nodded. “Were either of you victims of the Decimation?”

Walter nodded again slowly, keeping eye contact with her as though trying to make her understand his reasons without speaking them aloud. She would get to the bottom of it eventually, but if he did not wish to discuss it now, she certainly would not push it. The elimination of half the population had caused a significant amount of trauma for most people. The sudden loss of so many loved ones left many feeling alone and instilled a sense of fear and uncertainty that left them feeling hopeless. Some feared that a second Decimation would happen, and the lives that they had managed to piece together would be shattered once more.

It was a topic for another session.

“Have you spoken to her since then?”

“No,” he said, his voice quiet. “No, I haven’t.”

“I see.” She sat back again and folded her hands in her lap. “Well, the Decimation certainly has affected relationships, whether it’s torn them apart or prompted couples to get back together. That being said, thirteen years of separation changes the dynamic of a relationship. It may be...difficult for your marriage to recover.”

He frowned. “Are you saying you can’t help me?” There was an icy edge to his voice that unnerved her. Something had peeked through his carefully crafted fa ç ade. Rage, loss, desperation? It seemed to be all of those things at once and then none of them at all.

“Not at all,” she said after a pause that was longer than she meant it to be. “I only want you to be prepared if your wife does not wish to pursue reconciliation.”

He ran his fingers over his ring, staring out the window again. “Don’t say that, Doctor. I need her back.”

“I will do everything I can,” she assured him.

“Thank you,” he said, refocusing his eyes on her. She nodded.

“The Decimation was only six years ago,” Ingrid continued. “What happened to prompt such a lengthy separation before that?”

Walter considered her carefully before replying, watching her as keenly as she watched him. “There was a...family disagreement regarding an inheritance.”

“And this was enough for you to separate?” she asked curiously.

His jaw clenched and relaxed again as he shifted in his seat. “Yes,” he answered after a pause that was a mere moment too long. She waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t.

Perhaps she could prompt him in the right direction. “Tell me about your family,” she said gently.

“I don’t see what they have to do with anything,” he hissed, a small snarl revealing itself under his sharp nose.

Though the severity of his reaction was slightly unusual, the sentiment was not. The connection between one’s upbringing and how they handled their personal relationships were inextricably linked, whether it was because the person wanted to be just like their parents, or the opposite of them, or simply because they mimicked what they observed and knew to be normal. More often than not, they were entirely unaware of the connection.

“Think of your psyche as a house.” Ingrid began. “If your childhood is your foundation, then everything built upon it is dependent on it. If the foundation is flawed, then the frame of your house might tilt. You might not even notice it at first, but sooner or later you’ll want to hang a picture and that picture will never quite hang straight.” He tilted his head and raised a brow in what appeared to be amusement. “We need to examine your foundation to see why your pictures aren’t hanging straight.”

He allowed himself a chuckle. “I don’t know if there are enough hours in a day to recount all of my family’s failings. Besides, I don’t think you’ve ever heard a story quite like mine.”

She sat forward. “Try me.”

He took in a deep breath and let it hiss loudly out between his lips. “It’s complicated.” She squinted quizzically at him. He huffed. “Why does this have to be so difficult?”

Ingrid closed her notebook and set it down. “The first session is always the hardest,” she said reassuringly. “Why don’t we take a break? I could personally use a cup of tea.” He sighed and nodded. She got up and went to the electric kettle she kept on the side table by the door and flicked the switch.

“I’ll take a black coffee,” Walter said from the couch. She set a bag of pomegranate tea in her mug to steep and poured him a cup of coffee. She held his drink out to him as she came back around to face him.

Walter’s hand reached out to take it from her. As he took the clean white ceramic mug, his fingers brushed against her skin. Surely an accident, but Ingrid found herself holding his gaze. Something familiar scratched at the back of her mind. Not quite déjà vu, but more like the hazy memory of a long-forgotten dream. But the harder she tried to dredge it to the surface, the further down it sank. A pain bloomed behind her eyes. She looked away and massaged her temple with her free hand.

She hoped it wouldn’t turn into an episode. The idea of getting a migraine during an appointment was mortifying.

“Is something the matter?” Walter inquired.

Ingrid shook her head. “It’s nothing. Just a bit of a headache. I’m sure some tea will clear it right up,” she assured him with a smile as she resumed her seat.

Walter sipped his coffee thoughtfully. His gaze did not leave her as he brought the mug to his lips. She found it slightly unnerving. The spot behind her eyes throbbed again. She set her mug down with a wince as she pressed her hand to her forehead firmly.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Walter asked, a slight tone of worry coloring his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she insisted as the pain subsided again. “Sorry, that was so strange. Let’s continue, shall we? Tell me about your wife.”

He rubbed his thumb along the handle of the mug and sighed. “Gentle, kind most of the time, and beautiful of course.”

“Of course,” Ingrid agreed with a smile, though she wondered if perhaps he was seeing through lenses tinted with pretty memories. “What’s her name?”

Walter’s hands stilled. He set his cup down and steepled his fingers in consideration as he examined Ingrid from across the room. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for his response.

“Sigyn.” The name fell from his mouth with reverence, the syllables passing over his lips like an incantation. Longing draped itself over the word and Ingrid felt a pang of sympathy. His wife’s name was sacred to him even after so long being apart from her.

“Like the myth,” she remarked, pretending not to notice Walter’s initial hesitation. He sighed heavily, his eyes sliding away from her. “Have I upset you?” she asked with a practiced but sincere tone. Walter frowned but remained silent, running his fingers over his bottom lip in thought. “Walter?”

He glanced up at her again before getting to his feet and crossing the room to the window. Ingrid stood and followed him as he clasped his hands behind his back, reminding her of a ship’s captain surveying the deck below. She wasn’t alarmed by the behavior, having dealt with many couples trying to hash out issues and finding themselves pacing in an attempt to work off the nervous energy.

“Myths,” he muttered, studying the New York skyline. “That’s what we were reduced to.”

Her brow furrowed. We?

“Only they weren’t myths, were they? Thor is real. He’s out there making a spectacle of himself every chance he gets,” he said, spite cutting into his voice.

“Well, yes. I suppose that’s true,” she admitted. “A lot of things we thought were impossible have been proven possible over the past few years.”

He turned abruptly to look at her again, green eyes piercing her own in a way that made her suddenly feel like she was under a microscope. “More than possible, Doctor. Factual.”

She opened her mouth to agree but found herself mute at the sight of a golden shimmer passing over Walter’s body. She gasped and stumbled backward into her desk, knocking over a stack of paperwork. He stepped toward her as his suit was replaced by a black breastplate with gold inlay catching the light of the afternoon sun. A long green cape flared out behind him as he continued forward with a wicked smirk.

In his full regalia, the image of him finally placed itself in Ingrid’s memory.

“You-” she said breathlessly. “You’re Loki. You’re the one who attacked New York!” she exclaimed shakily, pressing herself farther against her desk.

His smile faded, replaced by a bewildered expression. “What?”

Panic ripped itself through her veins and she did the only thing she could think of. Ingrid opened her mouth to scream for help, but her cry was quickly muffled by Loki’s hand.

“Don’t,” he said in a low voice, keeping his hand clamped over her mouth.

She fumbled for something to defend herself with and blindly snatched a copy of the DSM-V, hitting him over the head with the heavy book, knocking his hand away. He grunted at the force of the strike but hardly seemed slowed by it. If anything, he looked annoyed. She made to punch him before he caught her hand, arresting her blow just as she was about to connect with his face. She tried again, only for him to repeat his defense and catch her other hand.

“Stop it!” he demanded, scowling down at her.

She stilled, trying to remember any negotiating tactics she could think of. Did the same rules apply to alien supervillains? “What do you want from me?” she asked, trying to match his scowl.

His grip slackened just a little. “I’m not--”

At that precise moment, the door came flying open and Lauren burst into the room. Ingrid wanted to shout to her to run, but then she saw the pistol trained on Loki’s chest.

“Why do you have a gun?!” was the only thing Ingrid could manage.

“Get down!” Lauren shouted back at her.

Ingrid felt herself being pushed away as Loki lept away and the first shot rang out. Ingrid screamed and took cover behind her desk, covering her ears in an attempt to block out the deafening noise of gunfire. She heard glass shatter and in a strange moment of confusion wondered how much replacing the windows was going to cost her. The gunfire stopped and Lauren swore.

Ingrid peeked out from behind her desk to see that the middle window was shattered. Her ears were ringing and her hip ached from where she had hit the floor, but she seemed to be otherwise unscathed. Loki was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes finally landed on Lauren, who was reloading her magazine.

“Lauren, what the hell-?” Ingrid said breathlessly, unable to articulate further.

“Dr. Hansen, are you hurt?” Lauren asked, her voice lower than Ingrid was used to hearing.

"No, I don't think so," she replied quickly.

"Good. I need you to come with me," Lauren said, barely letting Ingrid finish her sentence.

“But-”

“Now.” She grabbed Ingrid’s arm and pulled her out into the hallway and to the stairwell. Ingrid immediately regretted wearing heels that day and quickly pulled her shoes off, opting to carry them instead. Lauren urged her to hurry as she led a now barefoot Ingrid down the four flights of stairs to the ground floor parking garage.

“Where are we going?” Ingrid asked desperately.

“Getting you out of here,” she replied.

“But why? He’s not even here anymore,” the bewildered psychologist pointed out as Lauren pulled her to a shiny black sedan and ushered her into the passenger seat. “Hey!” Ingrid protested as the door slammed without a response from her receptionist.

“We don’t know that,” Lauren said as she hurriedly got into the driver’s seat and turned the key, peeling out of the parking garage as quickly as she could. She directed her phone assistant to call someone named Maria Hill. The robotic voice confirmed the call and the phone was answered before the first ring was finished.

“This is Hill,” said the steady, feminine voice on the other end of the line.

“Hill, this is Soren. We’ve had an incident,” Lauren said. Ingrid made a face.

“Soren?” she asked. Lauren just shook her head as a signal for her to be quiet.

“Who is that?” Hill asked, concern coloring her tone.

“One half of the incident,” was Lauren’s reply. “I have Dr. Hansen with me. She was confronted by Loki.”

There was a brief silence before a stern reply. “Get her here, now.”

“Already on it. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Good.”

The call ended and Ingrid looked at Lauren questioningly. “Am I being kidnapped?” Ingrid asked. Lauren smirked.

“No Dr. Hansen, you’re not being kidnapped,” she said in a flat tone that only vaguely revealed her amusement.

“Then do you want to explain just what the hell is going on?” Ingrid said, anxiety now dissolving into irritation as she slipped her shoes back on her feet. “Starting with your real name.”

“I can explain everything once we reach our rendezvous point, but I can tell you that my name is Soren and I am not a secretary.”

“Oh, well that explains everything,” Ingrid said sarcastically. “I want to know what’s going on, now, before I go anywhere with you.”

Soren stopped the car at a stoplight abruptly and Ingrid’s seatbelt constricted painfully across her chest. The younger woman turned to look at her with a face devoid of any amusement, her brown eyes narrowed. “Look Doctor, I know you’re scared and confused, but I have been ordered to keep you safe. We aren’t sure what Loki wants or why, but we’re going to figure it out. Right now, you just have to trust me, okay?” Ingrid swallowed and nodded. “Good.”

Soren hit the gas as the light turned green.

“Can I at least ask where we’re going?”

“Greenwich Village.”

The hour and a half it took to get to the grey nondescript building would have been a mere forty-five minutes if not for the New York traffic. Ingrid thought mundanely about how traffic in large cities was awful no matter where you went. They pulled into a parking structure that appeared to be largely abandoned.

“I know, it’s pretty austere looking,” Soren said. “We just want to make sure we aren’t somewhere where he might hear us.” Ingrid couldn’t stop the anxiety from creeping into her chest as they parked next to a black SUV. Soren got out and looked around before gesturing for Ingrid to follow. She obeyed and they climbed into the backseat of the second vehicle.

“Glad you made it,” a woman in the driver’s seat said to Soren as the two of them slid into their seats. The interior of the car was neat, with all the bells and whistles and then some. It smelled like new leather, though it must have seen frequent use given how much it must have cost.

“Me too,” said Soren. “Dr. Hansen, this is Maria Hill.”

Maria turned to look at her and offered her hand. Ingrid shook it.

“Don’t worry, Doctor. We’ll take care of you,” she said with a reassuring smile. Ingrid tried to smile back, but only managed a grimace.

“I appreciate it.”

A tall man with cool brown skin and a patch over his left eye turned to greet them from the passenger seat. Ingrid watched all three of them closely, her apprehension only growing as more people were introduced into the equation.

“Am I under arrest?” she finally asked.

“No, you’re not,” the man said, turning to look at her with his single eye. “Dr. Hansen, my name is Nicholas Fury,” he said, shaking her hand. “Just call me Fury. I heard you’ve had quite the afternoon.”

“You could say that,” she replied. He smiled, though she sensed he was only trying to put her at ease. She set her jaw. “Are you with the FBI or something?” she asked.

“They wish,” Soren said.

“We represent an extra-governmental intelligence agency that’s been keeping tabs on persons of interest,” Fury explained. The vagueness of his explanation did nothing to calm Ingrid’s nerves.

“And I’m a person of interest?” she asked. Fury nodded. “Why? I’ve never even gotten a speeding ticket. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I know,” Fury assured her. “It isn’t that you’ve done anything wrong, Dr. Hansen. We’ve seen your records. Graduated NYU after coming here from England after a boating accident killed your parents and nearly killed you too.”

Ingrid’s eyes went wide and she pressed herself into her seat, watching him carefully. “H-how did you-?”

“Like I said, intelligence agency.” His voice was smooth and calm, though she could not help but detect the barest hint of a warning through his words. Her mouth felt dry. She tried not to show her alarm, but she was certain they could all feel it pulsing through the air between them.

“But why me?” Ingrid pressed.

Fury and Hill exchanged a look, communicating all they needed to without a word. They must have worked together for a long time.

“Your accident corresponded with an unusual atmospheric event,” Fury began as he turned back to face her. “We wanted to make sure it was a coincidence.”

“That was thirteen years ago,” Ingrid reminded him. “You’ve watched me for that long?”

“Yes, and it turns out it was a damn good thing we did,” Fury replied with an edge of irritation. “I know this is difficult for you to understand, but after the events of the past several years, we couldn’t take any chances. The fact of the matter is that in our line of work, there are no coincidences. We don’t know what Loki wants, but we know that he came to you for a reason. It’s our job to figure out why.”

An overwhelming sense of dread filled her gut. Ingrid looked down at her lap, nervously wringing her hands together. “How can I help?” she asked quietly, looking back up at them.

“Why don’t you explain what happened today?” Fury said as he adjusted his posture to get comfortable.

Ingrid took a deep breath and told them how she had had an appointment with a man named Walter Lawson, everything he had told her, and how he was acting somewhat strangely, but nothing terribly unusual until he revealed himself to be Loki.

“He didn't hurt me, but I don't know if that means he wouldn't have,” she said. “And then Lauren...I mean, Soren, burst into the room.”

Fury squinted at Soren with his one eye. “The alias you picked was Lauren?” he asked skeptically.

Soren shrugged. “Rhymes are easy to remember.”

Fury shook his head and returned his gaze to Ingrid. “Is that all that happened? Seems strange that he would come looking for therapy, as much as I'm sure he could use it.”

“I’m sure it was a ruse,” Soren offered.

Ingrid frowned in thought. “But, he seemed sincere.”

“He’s the god of lies, a master manipulator. He knows just what to say and how to say it to get his way,” Hill reminded her.

“Yes, well I’m a doctor of psychology,” Ingrid said stubbornly. “I know what manipulation looks like.”

The three of them exchanged a look. “This isn’t a judgment of your abilities, Doc,” Fury said. “Loki could sell you oceanfront property in the Sahara desert and you’d thank him for it. He’s been at this a long time. Longer than any of us have been alive or even hope to live. I very much doubt he was telling you the truth.” He raised his brows expectantly as Ingrid considered this. Her pride deflated slightly. He had a point.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said.

All three breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” Fury said. “You’re sure nothing else happened during your appointment?”

“Yes,” Ingrid said. “I did get a headache in the middle of the appointment, but that isn’t out of the ordinary.”

“Do you get headaches often?” Fury asked.

She nodded. “I’ve gotten migraines a couple of times a month at least since my accident,” Soren and Hill exchanged a look at the mention of the accident.

“My mother got migraines,” he said. “I don’t envy you.”

“I’ve got some memory loss too,” she added.

“Sounds like something you should have checked out,” Hill suggested.

“I have,” Ingrid said. “CAT scans couldn’t find anything wrong. I guess it’s just one of those things.”

Hill, Fury, and Soren exchanged a quick look. “Must be,” the man said, looking back at Ingrid. “Dr. Hansen, I know you’ve had a harrowing day, but I’m afraid it’s not quite over yet.” She felt her stomach tighten. What more did they want from her? She was exhausted and her headache had continued to persist since the confrontation, and she had the distinct feeling of grime on her skin from running through a parking garage barefoot. “We’re going to have to insist that you stay in protective custody until you’re in the clear.”

“What?!” she exclaimed indignantly. She felt like he had just told her she was grounded. “But what about my patients?” she asked in desperation. “I can’t just leave them without explanation.”

“We’ll get it sorted out with you. Soren has told us that your practice is your pride and joy,” Hill said.

“Where am I supposed to stay?” The logistics were sending her reeling. She wasn’t prepared to drop a small fortune on a hotel room.

“We’ll take care of it,” Fury assured her. “The most important thing is that you’re safe.”

“I appreciate everything you’re all doing for me, but I’ll be fine if I go home,” Ingrid insisted. All three sets of eyes looked at her incredulously.

“With all due respect, Dr. Hansen, I don’t think you understand what this man is capable of,” Hill said, watching her closely. “We’ve arranged for a place for you to say where I’m sure you’ll be safe.”

“And where on earth is that?” she asked, her irritation growing more apparent.

Fury smirked. “We’re going to visit another contact of ours.”