astronomicamens

[daydreamerdrew]

The Incredible Hulk (1968) #226

[heisenho]

Karl x Fem!Reader that also has the ability to bend metal and being his little apprentice. Like they go from mentoring to lovers?

Power

[Karl Heisenberg x Fem!Reader]

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI! Good ol' pussy eatin', Karl being a bit of a dick, just normal re8 stuff.

A/N: This was so fun to write, i do hope you like it! Thanks so much for this request! This is more... uh reader loathing karl and then letting him mentor her, and then they become lovers. i hope that is okay dfijffnwfjw

“Fuck!” You screamed out, stomping your foot. “Why can’t I just live with Lady Dimitrescu?”

You were growing angry. Rage boiled inside of you. You let out a loud, shrill scream and slammed your foot against the metal you were supposed to be moving around with your fucking mind.

“Shit!”

Another yell. You grabbed your foot and fell to the ground, rolling in the dirt for a minute.

“Get the fuck up.”

You stopped your rolling and your eyes shot towards Heisenberg. You stood up and glared at him. You crossed your arms and stepped closer to him.

“Girl,” Heisenberg growled, “You do not wanna do that.”

When you were first sent to live with Heisenberg, you were sure it was going to be hell, he was terrifying. But now, it was hell because he was being bossy.

“You’re lucky I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. Otherwise... You’d be-”

“What? What would I be?

Your arms fell to your sides, your fingers digging into your palms. You screamed again and turned to stomp away from Heisenberg. His jacket rustled and you ignored it, thinking he was probably going to fuck around with his powers just to show off.

Show off, he did.

A piece of metal came flying towards your legs and wrapped around your shins, knocking you to the ground. A scared noise fell from your lips and you scratched at the ground, trying your best to stop whatever was happening. Once it registered that you were not about to get away, you let yourself slide towards Heisenberg.

The metal around your legs began to pull you upwards and you tensed. You truly had not expected to start fucking floating. The metal tightened as your moved higher into the air, thankfully Heisenberg seemed to not want to drop you.

“Oh, if only there were a way you could escape this.”

You swung your arm out and let out a strangled, stressed scream as he caught it. “Karl, let me down right now!”

Blood was starting to rush to your head. Heisenberg was deadpan, watching you struggle. He didn’t look comfortable, but he also was letting it happen. As you were leaning up, pulling at the metal, Heisenberg reached up to you, the metal falling and you dropping into his arms.

He quickly set you down and began to walk back to his factory. “C’mon, we’ll try again tomorrow.”

You looked down at the metal and tried your best, really giving it your all, and moved your hand outward, towards it, but nothing happened.

“Karl,” you let out a soft whine, “I can’t do this.”

Karl came up from behind and sighed. You knew for sure he was about to pull some more bullshit, so you tensed. Karl’s face dropped, his eyes softening, but you couldn’t quite see that. You could, however, hear Karl sigh.

“We’re gonna try something different.” Karl stepped behind you and your body only tensed even more.

Karl placed his gloved hand on your bicep and slid it down your arm, causing your breath to catch in your throat. “Focus on the metal,” he brought your hand upwards and uncurled your fingers, which were digging into your palm. “Just think about moving it, it’ll come naturally.”

You nodded and relaxed into him, “Okay.”

Suddenly the metal moved. You gasped and practically ripped away from Karl, your excitement bubbling over. You turned and looked at him with wide eyes.

“I did it!”

“Told ya it wasn’t hard.”

You huffed at him, “You literally dragged me around the dirt yesterday, sir! Do not go talking about this bein’ easy!”

Karl snorted, “Whatever, girl,” his eyes rolled behind his sunglasses. “Now, we can get to the actual training.”

You stood across from Karl, in the scrapyard, your fingers twitching at your sides. You were finally getting good at whatever the hell Miranda had “blessed” you with, and Karl was taking training up a notch.

The metal began to float around you causing you to feel a little anxiety. You brought your arms up, palms facing Karl, and you pushed some of the metal back towards him. As you did that, he snapped his fingers, effortlessly causing a piece of metal to fly at you. A short whine escaped you as it scraped your cheek.

Warmth ran down your cheek. Blood.

“Not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair, Kitten,” Karl smirked.

You blinked, and your hands fell down to your sides. Your entire body tensed and without even thinking, you caused the metal to shift around you. Every single piece, even the ones near Karl, hit the ground. Hard.

“That’a girl!”

Karl walked towards you and smiled proudly. Your stomach twisted and you swallowed hard. Something about that pet name, and the way he said it... He had your stomach in knots. You gave him a nervous smile and nodded.

“Thanks. I totally meant to do that.”

Karl laughed, “Let’s go inside, I think that’s enough for today. Anyway,” Karl brought his gloved hand to your cheek, “You’re bleeding. You need to clean that up.”

Without thinking, you swatted him away and leaned back from him. Karl, unbeknownst to you, was not a fan of that reaction. His face dropped, slightly, before he gave you a cocky grin once more.

The both of you walked in, and you knew you were going to have to deal with your new feelings, one way or another.

It had been about a week since ‘the incident’ and you could not get the way he called you ‘kitten’ out of your head. He hadn’t said it since, he had barely gotten close to you unless he was training with you, and even then he kept his distance.

You had to find a way to relieve stress and you had to find one soon. Being a desperate woman, you decided, when there was a family meeting, you were going to find one of Alcina’s daughters and ask her for help.

And you did just that.

“Daniela,” You pulled her to the side and prayed that Karl wouldn’t find you, “I need help.”

“Ooooh~” She let out a laugh, or what you could only assume was a laugh, “what does the newest member of the family need?”

“Please keep quiet, this is important to keep between us, and only us.”

“Of course,” she grabbed your shoulder and smiled at you.

‘Maybe she’s trying to make me feel less scared?’ You thought. “Anyway...” You tried to shrug her hand away, “Look, do you ladies have any... toys. Just, like, around the castle?”

“Toys?” Daniela cocked her head, “I didn’t think you wanted to play with men?”

Your eyes widened, “No! Sex toys!” You hissed at her.

Her eyes lit up, “Oh! Of course. Follow me, my cute little pet.”

And just like that, you were completely set up to relieve your stress.

Finding a secluded area was not the easiest. So many of Karl’s little experiments wandered around. But once you found it, you were ecstatic.

You were sprawled out on a small pallet you had made. You had surrounded yourself with some metal, a barrier between you and the creatures that could find you. Keeping it up was becoming a hassle, especially once you started feeling immense pleasure.

You had been messing around with yourself for a good half of the day. You had somehow convinced Karl to let you wander off and not work that day. He said he had things he needed to tend to, and let you go off on your own.

You were taking breaks in between sessions, but nothing was like the real thing. The vibrations of the toy were sending shockwaves through your body. You were getting close to the edge, toes curling, eyes rolling back, and body tensing. And, unlike all your other orgasms, you let out a loud whimper.

“Hey, girl-” Karl called out, obviously looking for you.

“Karl-” You moaned out, not registering Karl’s voice.

Something had come over you, you were completely wrecked by the thought of Karl having his way with you. To the point where you called out for him. And he most definitely heard you.

The metal dropped around you and you, suddenly, you were forced to face Karl. Once and for all. A scream ripped from your throat and you closed your legs, pulling your large, button up shirt, over your knees.

“Fuck!” You yelled, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“Damn,” Karl, being the extreme gentleman he was, noticed you weren’t entirely comfortable and covered his eyes. “If you needed some help you could have asked.”

“Karl!” You shouted throwing the sex toy to the side. Face burning, body trembling, mind filled with pure embarrassment, you just sat on the floor, “Shut up!”

Suddenly, you realized what he said. Your jaw dropped and your arms, that were wrapped around your legs, tensed.

“Last chance,” Karl smirked, eyes still hidden, “you obviously need-”

“Okay.”

That was all he needed to hear. His hand dropped from his face and he stalked towards you. Without a word, Karl leaned down, picked you, and tossed you over his shoulder. Letting out a small gasp, you hung down his back. One of his hands held you steady while the other rested on your ass.

The both of you reached his ‘room’, just an area with a mattress on the ground not as many experiments around. Karl placed you down on the mattress and leaned over you, he peeked over his sunglasses at you.

“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted this.”

Heisenberg’s mouth was the shell of your ear, his breath causing your body to react in the best way possible. He pulled back and stared you down, like a predator ready to devour their prey. Your knees knocked together and you were looking up at Heisenberg with big doe eyes. His large calloused hand grabbed one of your knees and he pulled your legs apart, gently.

“I was wondering where that shirt went...”

“Well, maybe if you had more shirts you wouldn’t have noticed.”

Karl chuckled, a rumble coming from his chest, and you felt like you had made some type of mistake, “Are you sure you wanna get that tone with me, kitten?”

“Yes...” It sounded more like a question than an answer, but the confidence was almost there.

“How are you so bratty, yet so cute?” Karl positioned himself between your legs.

You shrugged, unable to find words to say. Your brain was malfunctioning at the worst time. You had thought about this moment, even dreamed of it, and now there you sat, looking like some deer in headlights. You were vulnerable and so small compared to him.

“You sure you’re up for this, kitten? You’re looking a little-”

“I’m good!” Your voice cracked, “You have no clue how much I’ve wanted this- you. I just kinda thought you... hated me.”

Karl cocked his head at you, “How? You’re fucking amazing. I thought you hated me, the way you tensed when we were training... I just assumed you were afraid.”

“Karl,” you spoke so calmly, as if you weren’t almost naked and completely vulnerable under him, “as I said before, you dragged me through the dirt with metal...”

“That was just tough love,” Karl smirked down at you, before his facial features softened, “I can make it up to you?”

You nodded, wondering what he had in mind.

“Lean back,” he moved down, positioning himself between your legs, his body keeping your legs from closing.

You complied of course, and leaned back for him. Your back hit the mattress and you let out a shaky sigh. Karl began to softly kiss up your thigh, his large hands pulling your legs further apart. Your hands gripped at the bare mattress below you and you arched into Karl’s mouth.

Once he reached your cunt, you let out a soft moan, waiting for more. One of Karl’s hands gripped at your hip, while the other pulled your shirt up further. His hand quickly moved from your shirt and to your bare ass.

“I promise, I’ll be gentle,” Karl murmured right before his tongue licked a stripe up your pussy.

You gasped. God, it was everything you had imagined, and better. His tongue quickly found your clit and he sucked at it, briefly, before getting back to your pussy.

You let out a soft hum of pleasure, your hands knocking his hat off and grabbing at his hair. You pulled at it and Karl immediately stopped.

“Girl,” his chest rumbled, and his eyes snapped up at you, “I don’t think you’re prepared for what that brings.”

You couldn’t answer, you were genuinely too in the moment to register anything but your own pleasure. And you were getting close to cumming. Your back arched, and your toes curled, once his lips met your throbbing pussy again.

“Karl,” your voice was loud, but not loud enough.

“Kitten, who’s making you feel this good?”

“You- You are!”

Your feet jerked, pulling you up on your tiptoes, and your back curved, causing your hips to push into Karl, letting his tongue go deeper.

“Karl! I’m- I’m gonna-” You were cut off, everything becoming too much.

You gasped loudly and the entire factory shifted and groaned. Your eyes screwed shut and your entire body tensed under him. Karl did not slow. You felt the metal around you beginning to move.

Your eyes snapped open, just in time for you to witness the metal starting to come to life around the two of you. You fell, your back colliding with the mattress once more, and the metal fell back down. The factory stopped creaking, the only noise now being your loud panting.

“Damn, girlie,” Karl brought his face up to yours, “you’re more powerful than I thought...”

Karl gave you a kiss, and you quickly deepened it. Your arms wrapped around his neck and held himself above you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and you softly mewled beneath him. Reluctantly, Karl pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours.

“How about-” he paused, thinking about his wording, “how about we take this shit over? Fuck everyone else. Me and you, kitten, that’s all that matters.”

You quickly answered, unsure if it was the fact he just ate your pussy, the love you felt for him, or your genuine hate for Mother Miranda. Or all of the above, “How about we fuck first? The vibrator just wasn’t doing it. We can think about world domination after sex.”

“I like the sound of that.”

[zodiyack]

Niffler’s New Discovery

Requested by anon: May I request a the youngest Shelby sister x Newt Scamander story? The Shelby sister is nothing like her siblings. She’s shy, reads books like they’re oxygen, loves animals, and doesn’t drink, smoke, or anything like that. She doesn’t even swear, she’s so pure. She also loves his animals. And Tommy acts like her father but she loves her brother very much. Same as her other brothers. They find out she’s dating him and get all overprotective. Sorry if this is too specific. I just love the idea of a Shelby sister who’s nothing like her siblings. Because most of the Shelby reader fics always have them smoking and all that. Which they are fun to read, but it’s nice to see something different. Feel free to pick the Scenario. :)

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Female!Shelby!Innocent!Reader

Warnings: Swearing (not from reader ofc :)) slight suggestiveness (also not from reader), fluff, ✨m a g i c✨

Words: 1,303

Summary: (See Request...also I thought the gif was cute, so anon, I based it off the gif kinda)

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @marquelapage, @stuckysslag, @psychkunox​, @i-love-superhero​

Masterlist | Fantastic Beasts (AWTFT) Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

At first, they had no problem keeping their relationship hidden from her overly protective family, but the troublemaker Newt constantly had to chase down and return to his case was the thing that exposed them. The bloody Niffler just loved things that shined. Who could blame it though? It was it’s nature.

Just as it was the Shelby brothers nature to react the way they did. Violent, perhaps, but of their nature. Their possessive, over the top protective, shitty, big brother, nature.

And it all started, one late afternoon...

The older Shelby trio, not counting Ada with her age advance over John, returned home after a nice night out at the pub. Sure, the sun hadn’t set yet, but Pol wanted them to return home a little earlier today for a family meeting. The meeting included everyone, minus the innocent angel whom the Shelbys called their sister.

It was the perfect time to have Newt over. The perfect time to explore the secret world hidden inside his little brief case. If only they knew the pesky Niffler had been waiting.

“Are you sure they won’t suspect anything of my presence?” Newt hesitated, one foot hovering above the wooden flooring of Y/n’s bedroom, the other resting on the rooftop outside her window.

She ushered him in the rest of the way, making sure to lock her door after checking that no one was around. “Positive. Family meetings take a while, so we’re good on time. How about you? Are you sure this is good with the council?”

He had a guilt-ridden look across his face as he looked around. “There are some things the council doesn’t have to know.” A nervous laugh rumbled in his throat before he cleared it and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Uh huh... Well, just promise me that you won’t get into any serious trouble for this, alright Newton?” The blushing hufflepuff gave his lover a quick nod, as well as a smile in return for the little peck she placed upon his cheek, pinkening his skin further down his neck- it was no surprise that Newt was terribly new to receiving affection from anything other than his beasts that resided in his case.

“S-shall we be going?” He broke the tension, gesturing to the case in front of them.

“Boys.” Polly stopped the bickering that had started up between John and Tommy, her eyes drifting toward the ceiling, the trios’ following. “Your sister’s been awfully quiet.”

John cackled, “Oh no, maybe she snuck out, went to have a quick fuck with some guy off the streets, didn’t she Pol?” His rather sarcastic tone suggested his knowledge that the referenced behavior was most certainly unlike his little sister, but the immaturity of John Shelby simply couldn’t resist making a joke.

Polly, however, was in no mood for John’s incessant kidding. Her hand met the back of his head, a disapproving furrow of her brows telling him to stop talking. “I’m being serious, you idiot. It’s more quiet than usual.”

“And what about it, Pol?” Tommy spoke after taking a drag from his cigarette, an eyebrow quirked.

“If she really does have a boy up there, he better pray he’s out the window by the time we get up there.”

Tommy’s brow, lowered after asking Polly how she’d respond, lifted back once again. “There’s no God for him to pray to, Arthur. The boy is fucked, plain and simple.”

“In more ways than one.”

John’s childish cackles were hushed into silence, a slap sounding throughout the room prior to their ceasing. A hand rubbing the back of his head, John glared at his aunt, yet continued the discussion of what to do with Y/n nonetheless.

The past ten minutes had been spent trying to block off any and all exists for the pesky little Niffler. Each time it attempted to escape the bedroom, Y/n or Newt were quick to block it off. It amazed Y/n how many places the little creature could scurry off through. Unfortunately, with their wild-goose-chase, footsteps turned to stomps...well, really running, but downstairs it was more likely to sound aggressive, such as the hard thud of a Blinder’s boot on the floor of the Garrison.

It was inevitable; the possibility of being caught, but the fact seemed to slip their minds as they both tried to corner the Niffler, as well as capture it once more. Every shiny thing, ranging from jewelry to bullet casings, or things that caught her eye, made into décor (gifted from her brothers, as she would never touch a gun unless need be) were being stolen as the creature evaded capture.

Newt shot Y/n a sorry look each time one of her belongings were snatched up by the Niffler. It touched her heart, truly, it did, but now was not the time to swoon. Y/n froze as the Niffler wandered over to a bottle. Wine? Champagne? She didn’t know; Y/n never drank- the bottle was a gift from her sister in law, which she couldn’t turn down without upsetting her, so it soon became another...decoration.

Atop the bottle was shimmery, gold-like, wrapping. Of course it caught the mischievous little shine-thief’s eye. It pulled and pulled, Y/n and Newt made eye contact as the uneasy feeling in their guts mirrored, until POP!

The door broke open with a loud bang, Arthur standing confused before getting both a Niffler and a cork to the space between his brows. While Y/n flinched, Newt only looked away in shame.

“What. The. Literal. Fuck. Was. That?” John gapped. His usual remark would be to poke fun, but he too was in great shock, he couldn’t even think of anything humorous.

“A- ...A Niffler.” Newt stuttered. His rather shy demeanor was rarely common around Y/n, so she new he was slightly uncomfortable the second his hand lifted to itch the back of his neck as his eyes found interest in the floorboards.

“Did I fuckin’ ask you?” John narrowed his eyes at the timid wizard.

It was unusual for Y/n to get angry, but the unjustness of John’s attitude toward her lover didn’t sit well with her. “Leave him alone!”

Now there was more to be shocked about. “I- what?”

“You heard me, John. You, Arthur, and Thomas. Leave Newt alone. He didn’t mean for this to happen, so he shouldn’t be harassed by you three. Want to question him? Have Pol do it, but the second you come to my room and bully my lover is the second you cross the line.”

Tommy, amused, let out a little chuckle as he raised his eyebrows.

“Something funny to you, Thomas? ‘Cause I don’t think any of us are laughing.”

 “No, sister, nothing is of humor to me.” He muttered despite dawning a lopsided smirk. Tommy looked at his brothers and nodded his head toward the stairs before walking away. Although he was leaving, he never said he wouldn’t poke at the boy some more. Now just wasn’t worth it; he was already shaking in his boots as it is.

“Tommy- where- where’re you goin’?” John did a double take, following shortly after.

Arthur rubbed the red spot where he’d been nailed by the creature and it’s new favorite possession, proved by it cuddling the cork close to it’s body on the floor where it had landed after hitting Arthur. He excused himself politely before walking in the same direction as his brothers, still rubbing at his soon-to-be-bruising injury all the way down.

Newt took the opportunity to grab the niffler and tickle Y/n’s possessions from his tummy before running over and tucking him in the case. The anger faded from Y/n’s eyes as she watched her lover. “It looks as though the Niffler has discovered something new.” Newt chuckled lightly, easing up slowly.

“New indeed.”

[fundy-simp]

Technoblade/GN!Reader - Messy Confessions [2700 words]

Fluff! Sick fic, kinda! After fleeing the DreamSMP mainland due to stress you find yourself in the snow biome that an old friend of yours lives in. You’re not sure how you know where he lives or how he’ll respond to you just appearing at his house in clothes definitely not suited for the tundra, but you suck it up and ask him for help anyways.

This is a c!Techno fic where he’s a piglin shapeshifter. You and Techno had known each other back in the Pogtopia days but there was a large break in communication while he moved bases and you got swept up in other things, but of course you had to meet again. Might make a part two of this honestly but I’m not super sure, so if you want one let me know! As always if anything about this makes you uncomfortable feel free to scroll past :)

You barely knew where you were going when you jumped into nether, following down the rickety one meter wooden path before it tapers into a 3 meter cobblestone and obsidian path. You needed out of the mainland, it was all too much. It felt like there was a rift- and a weird demonic egg- in between everyone, you felt alone, lost, so fuckin’ tired. Without thinking you jumped through the portal at the end, your body tensed to a complete halt as you bore the brunt of going from the nether to the tundra.

Gritting your teeth you pushed through it, stomping through the snow as the freezing wind felt like it was seeping into your bones. You seriously need to not impulsively decide to run off into the middle of nowhere in just your everyday wear. It wouldn’t have been as much as a problem if the snow didn’t get deeper as you walked, going over the edge of your netherite boots and into them. Quickly, you’re approaching the point where the coldness that felt like you’ll know till you're in the ground was vastly out weighing you panic from earlier.

In a haze you look around you, passing over an iced lake you can vaguely see footprints in the snow. Carefully you follow them as you huddle in on yourself, your fingers and nose were going numb as you made your way over a particularly steep hill. A curse left your lips as you tripped down the other side, as soon as you had your bearings you shot up, looking around to see where you were. Squinting, you could barely make out a house through the snow, a hope you hadn’t even noticed you’d lost flares in your chest as you marched towards it.

By the time you had made it to the cozy cabin you couldn’t feel your hands at all, you hesitated for a bit on the porch, you don’t even know who lives here, what if they’re not home? After meandering way, way longer than someone who was under the immediate threat of hypothermia, you finally knocked on the door, pain shocked through your arm, who knows if that’s a good or bad thing.

You hunch in on yourself as you hear shuffling on the other side of the door and after a few seconds it swung open to reveal a very distraught, or at least distraught for him, Techno, a sword drawn in your direction as he looked at you with dull eyes. Well that answers your question from earlier. Involuntarily you shivered, whether it was because the heat of the house made you realize just how cold it was or if it was the harsh gaze of the definitely over seven foot tall piglin, you couldn’t tell.

He looked at you for a second before sighing, “C’mon, y/n.” he said quietly as he put his sword up by the door and stepped aside. Carefully you stepped in, your eyes scanning over the cluttered living room as your body tried to get used to the warmth. You rubbed your hands together as you looked over to the fire place, almost jumping out of your skin when you realize that there’s a fucking polar bear laying there. Techno let out a quiet chuckle, it slipped into his words as he spoke, “Oh, don’t mind Steve, he’s a big cuddle bug.”

You nervously chuckled along, why was this the first place you thought to go? You haven’t talked to Techno in months and that little crush you had on him back in the Pogtopia days did not let up like you thought. “What brings you here?” he asked, he talked like the two of you didn’t just mutually ghost each other for half a year.

Swallowing thickly you shrug, fidgeting with your fingers for a second before being reminded of how it hurts to move them, “Oh. I- I just. I just missed you, ya know?” You replied quietly, nothing in your voice was convincing as you avoided eye contact.

You could feel him raise a brow at you, “So you planned to come see me and made the choice to wear nothin’ for the cold weather?” He asked, you could hear shuffling as you focused your eyes squarely on the wooden floor.

“O-Oh well, you know how dumb I can be!” You said through a forced chuckle, shivering as you rubbed your hands up and down your arms. “Yup, just poor planning! Noth- Nothin- '' You stopped for a second, making a face as you brought the crook of your elbow to your face and sneezed, then again, then one more time before pulling your arm away. “Christ- One moment.” You wiped at your slightly teary eyes as you sneezed two more times.

A heavy cloak was placed on your shoulders, when did Techno get behind you? “This is what you get y/n, go chill out with Steve for a moment.” He said, his voice was soft, you’d almost argue there was a twinge of worry in it as he ran his large hands up and down your biceps for a few seconds, trying to warm you up just a little more before he shooed you towards Steve. “You’re really bad at lyin’, you know that right?” he mostly mumbled as he disappeared up the ladder.

Sighing, you pulled Techno’s cloak closer to your body as you sat down next to Steve, he was down right massive next to you, it made you slightly nervous as you tried not to disturb him. After a few seconds the polar bear lazily lifted his head from the ground, looking at you before sniffing your, or well, Techno’s cloak. You never thought you would ever be able say you’ve seen a polar bear ponder something, but this one definitely did for a few seconds. When he came to whatever conclusion he did, he shuffled over to you and nuzzled into you as he placed his head in your lap.

You tensed for a second, this polar bear is acting like a giant puppy dog, literally nothing in your life could ever prepare you for anything like this. After a few very scared moments you sighed, you’re far too tired to really bother questioning anything so you leaned down, resting your head on the bear’s soft fur as your eyes flutter shut.  

You woke up only god knows how long later, head pounding as you felt someone pick you up, “Hello?” you asked quietly, opening your eyes only to squint at how even the low light in the room made your head spin.

You could feel who was holding you physically stutter for a second before replying, “Ah, sorry y/n, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Oh yeah, you’re at Techno’s. Forgot about that... His voice was a whisper as he spoke, as if he could tell you weren’t feeling well, “Don’t worry everythin’ is okay, just didn’t want you sleepin’ on the floor.” He said as he held you with one arm, using the other to pull you both up the ladder and into what you could assume was his room. It was dark, lit by one lantern by the ladder that was slowly dying, books were splayed out across the floor and desk. If your head was throbbing any less you would have teased him for it, how it reminded you of the days back in Pogtopia.

Carefully he stepped over the books and general clutter as he carried you over to the bed and laid you down, you made a face at him as he pulled the blanket over you, “This isn’t normal for you.” You whisper at him, wincing slightly at how your seemingly growing migraine reacted to you talking.

Techno let out a slight chuckle as he crouched down next to the bed, “And it ain’t normal for you to just appear at my home freezin’, most likely sick, and definitely panickin’ about somethin’, so I think we’re even.” he said softly, you opened your mouth to argue but he quickly shushed you, bringing his hand up to your hair to mess with it, “You are far too tired to argue with me right now, after you sleep and are feelin’ better, we’ll talk.”

Grumbling you listen, pulling the blanket around you as you force yourself to relax. His touch was soft but still it managed to make your migraine flare up, as much as it hurt you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to stop. You scrunch your eyes shut, trying to magically wish the pain away so you didn’t have to tell him to stop, instead though it just alerted him of your pain. Slowly he detangled his fingers from your hair and softly placed a kiss on your forehead, or the best he could in his piglin form, which was more of a boop from his snout. You opened your eyes just in time to barely see his flustered face in the dark, how he avoided eye contact even in the darkness was cute. That look on his face was seemingly burned into your mind as you curled into his sheets, drifting off into a only slightly fitful slumber.

When you woke up you were pleasantly surprised by the fact that the migraine had gotten better, now just a dull pain behind your eyes instead of a stabbing pain everywhere. You try to sit up but the moment you lift your head vertigo hits you like a brick, making you plop back down in defeat. You vaguely debate calling Techno’s name to get his attention, but before the thought could even really form you wave it off. You quietly groaned as you tried to sink further into the sheets, they still smelled like Techno which made you blush a little. “Phil- Phil! You don’t understand! I- I. I wasn’t built to feel like this!” you were immediately pulled out of your thoughts by Techno’s voice, he sounded worried.

You hear someone else laugh, it’s Phil, “Mate, stop stressing. It’s not that big of a deal.” There's shuffling downstairs followed by the sound of opening and closing of multiple chests.

Techno sputters, it wasn’t common for him to verbally stutter when he didn’t know what to say, normally he’d just stay quiet so whatever they were talking about must have had him thoroughly wracked. “No, listen. Phil. I kissed their forehead last night!” Your heart suddenly jumped into your throat, ‘they’re talking about you.’ is the only thought in your mind. “Like some sappy nerd! And I told them I’d talk about feelin’s when they got up!” he stopped for a second, you couldn’t help but giggle at him as you heard him groan, “What is wrong with me, Phil?” he asked, it was much quieter, his voice filled with genuine worry. You felt an odd pang of guilt in the bottom of your gut, your brain trying to twist everything into something that could be your fault.

There were some light jingles in the silence before a myriad of more filled it, it was probably Phil stretching his wings, “You’re not gonna like this Techno, but.” there was another tense silence, it made your throat dry as you realize how hot it is under all these blankets, “... You’ve got a crush, mate.” he said plainly.

“HEH??” Techno basically yelled, you almost fell out of the bed with how hard you jumped, swinging your arm out onto the bedside table to stop yourself, knocking a book down in the process. The entire house went silent, not even the multiple animals in the house made a noise as you buried yourself under the blanket. There were step foots before the telltale creak of a ladder being used filled your ears, you’re going to pass out in the worst way possible. Your head filled with worst case scenarios within seconds, Techno knows you were listening to their conversation, he’s going to hate you, he’s going to kick you out to die.

Your thoughts spiral as you grip tighter to the blanket, the migraine came back as you fought off nausea. Two large hands carefully grab the blanket, pulling it away from you despite you fighting against it, when you reluctantly look over at Techno you see him crouched down next to you like last night, this time though it's his human form. You don’t think you’ve ever seen it, at least never this close, his bright emerald green eyes contrasted against the soft pink of his long, braided hair. He cleared his throat as you quickly looked away, “How much of that did you- uh. Did you hear, exactly?” he asked, not an ounce of anger or accusation in his voice, if anything he seemed scared.

Fiddling with the blanket, you struggled to come up with a reply. You could lie, saving his dignity and leave yourself to pine for him till he figures it out better, or you could just tell the truth, saving your heart and poor lying skills. You swallowed thickly as you looked down at your hands, “Well, you see. I. Hhhn. How do I say this?” You mostly asked yourself, you could see him already come to what you're going to say, his face going a dark red, but he doesn’t interrupt you. “I, uh, I heard all of it, I’m so sorry for eavesdropping. I woke up right before you guys got home and by the time I realized how personal the conversation was it would have been too awkward to do something.” you accidentally rambled, your face going a similar shade of red as his.

Techno sighed as he pulled one of his hands away from the blanket to scratch the back of his neck, “Ah… Shit.” he says quietly, you looked at him with wide eyes, the fear of him being mad at you boiling backup before he talks again, “Not- Not in a negative way!” He corrected himself quickly, smiling a little when he sees you visibly relax, “It’s just a little… Unfortunate for your crush to learn that you like them at the same time you realized it, that's all.” he said, or more mumbled, his hand on the blanket slowly gravitated towards one of your’s, whether that was purposeful or not it was really cute.

You nodded slightly, giggling a little at just everything that’s happened, “Well. If it makes it any easier,” you looked over at him as you set a shaking hand on his, “I’ve had a crush on you for a long while now.” you whispered, watching his face soften as he processed it.

“You’re gonna kill me. I’m not built for this, good god.” He said, a slight whine to his voice as he dropped his face down onto the bed. You let out a loud, genuine laugh at his actions before wincing, you’d almost forgotten about that damn migraine, “Oh yeah, you’re still sick.” he said quickly as he sat up, “Do you want some soup? Phil’s here, he makes really good mushroom stew, it was my favorite when I was younger.”

You giggle a little at his panic before nodding, “Yeah, that’d be nice.” you said, moving your hand on his before pulling it up to your lips and kissing it. “Thank you, Techno.” you let go of his hand as you watched him short circuit for a second.

Once he recovered he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, much more of a proper kiss than last night. “Of course, y/n.” he replied as he stood up and walked to the ladder. Once he’s down you buried your head back under the blanket, both out of embarrassment and to get away from the harsh sun falling into the room.

You couldn’t help but smile when you hear Phil from downstairs laugh, “See! I told you everything would be fine! You really worry way too much, Techno.” you had to agree. You have no idea what Techno and you even are right now, but you were ready to stumble through it with him till you’re both ready to talk about it.

[dawn8080]

How about an MC who doesn't like telling people it's their bday because they don't like big parties or people making a fuss over it, and the brothers come to know it's their bday on the day itself? (Obey me Headcannon please :3)

MC who hates celebrating their birthday

(Big thanks to @obey-me-rules-my-life-now for the request!)

MC has never been one to celebrate their birthday. Parties were big celebrations, and big celebrations meant people in masses. So, to avoid having to face a party, embarrassment and disappointment, they told no one. They never brought up the topic and when a brother did, they shut it down. All too soon, the dreaded day approached. How will each brother react?

Lucifer:

He knew when MC’s birthday was. He read their file after all. But when MC never mentioned their birthday, the thought faded from his mind.

Lucifer could tell something was off; MC was being snappy and moody to everyone, including himself.

MC was extra snappy after yet another failed plan of making money that they were dragged into and wanted to be left alone in their room. However, Lucifer knew to address their snappiness and moodiness.

When Lucifer knocked on MC’s door, it was met with a grumpy “Go away”

Lucifer growled under his breath, “MC, we need to discuss your recent behavior.”

“There’s no reason. Now leave me alone.”

Knowing that MC wasn’t willing to tell him, he went back into his office, to do more paperwork.

After hours of working on paperwork, he took a moments break to look at his DDD, lighting up with notifications.

Diavolo: So Lucifer, how was today? Good, I’ll suppose?

Lucifer: What’s makes you say that?

Barbatos: Have you forgotten?

Lucifer: Forgotten what?

Diavolo: Today is MC’s birthday! Have you forgotten?

Lucifer understood all at once what had happened, and went to confront them about it.

When confronted, MC shrugged their shoulders and said, “So? It’s just another day. It marks another year of my existence. It just makes me feel older.”

Understanding where they were coming from, he sighed and said, “You’re still a guest here in the House of Lamination and as long as your in this exchange program, we are responsible for your safety and comfort. That being said,” as he takes MC hands, “Could I at least interest you in a dinner?”

MC looked calculating for a few seconds before saying “I guess just a dinner would be nice...”

Mammon:

Mammon was never trusted with any of MC’s personal information (understandably so). And he knew he and his brothers could be a bit too much sometimes! So he didn’t really question it when MC started getting a bit grumpier than usual.

It wasn’t until MC came home one day after a failed money making scheme, throwing their book bag at the wall and stomping to their room.

He immediately was concerned and was knocking on their door, begging to be let in. After 30 minuets of being told no, he stayed silent, but outside their door.

Soon, when he heard their shower running, he walked into their room to see what was so wrong.

He didn’t notice anything wierd until he looked at their phone, light up with notifications from their human relatives.

Curiosity got the best of him as he wandered over and read their screen. To say he was shocked is an understatement when he read how many Happy Birthday texts MC received.

MC then entered the room to see Mammon on their phone, which resulted in Mammon getting kicked out of the bedroom.

Mammon stood outside in shock; humans loved their birthdays, so why were they so grumpy? And more importantly, why didn’t the human tell the GREAT Mammon that it was their birthday?!

He went straight to Lucifer, head spinning in confusion.

After barging in and questioning Lucifer, he realized that maybe going through their phone wasn’t the best idea...

...or at least that’s what he realized as he hung from the ceiling in front of Lucifers office again.

MC was walking downtown he hallway when they heard, “Yo! Human! Come give me a hand!”

MC helped him, but then quickly started leaving. Before they could though, Mammon took their hand and said, “Now wait a minuet. Why didn’t you tell me today is you birth-”

MC quickly spun and held their free hand over his mouth to shush him. “Don’t speak of this day to anyone! Or I swear, Goldie will have a friend called Paper Shredder.”

Mammon moved their hand and said, “I already asked Lucifer if he knew. He did, no surprise. But why didn’t you tell me?”

MC then dropped their hands to their sides and said, “I just don’t like my birthday. I don’t like celebrating it.”

Mammon sighed, as if defeated. Then he brightened up again. “How about we just watch movies then?! You don’t need to say it’s a special occasion to watch movies with the GREAT Mammon!”

MC sighed, smiling lightly. “I guess it wouldn’t be weird, huh?” They then smirked suddenly, “Now how about Resident Evil-”

“MC NOO!”

Leviathan:

MC’s grumpiness really caught him off-guard. They were almost never grumpy, yet they’ve been acting this way for an entire week.

He heard the loud clash of a book bag hitting a wall and angry footsteps down the hallway, near his room. He peaked his head out of his room, only to see an angry/grumpy MC storming past him.

Ignoring him completely.

That... didn’t feel right. They always acknowledged him in one way or another.

So, rather than leaving his precious room, he grabbed his phone and started spamming MC questions.

Levi: MC?

Levi: Are you okay?

Levi: Hey, answer the phone!

He quickly realized they weren’t responding although he knew they saw the texts.

He sighed dejectedly. Who would want to talk to a gross, yucky otaku like him anyways?

As he kept wallowing in self-pity, he heard his phone ding with a text. He was reading the text in an instant, hopes falling with it.

MC: I have to cancel game night. Maybe next week?

Levi knew they never rescheduled his game and anime hang out sessions. Concerned, he headed over to their room for answers.

Levi knocked, and realized the door was open. But there was no MC. He glanced around the room and saw their homework on their desk, already completed.

He then sat on the foot of their bed, playing mobile games until MC came back. Where he would confront MC about the birthday.

That’s when he booted up one of the Devildom games that MC loved. Suddenly, it piped up with a notice on his login.

It was his mutuals friends birthday.

He covered his shock and set up a surprise for MC.

40 minuets later, MC came back into their room, only to see Levi sitting in front of his monitor, playing anime, while he was cuddling his Ruri-Chan body pillow.

To say they were surprised was an understatement, but before anything could be said, Levi dragged them down next to him.

“Hey, why couldn’t I know about your birthday?” Levi frowned and asked.

“I... just don’t like celebrating. Is that why you’re here?”

Levi shakes his head and offers a second head set labeled “Player 2” and MC accepts it.

“I just want to watch anime with you tonight. Maybe we can game next week?”

Satan:

Satan could’ve gotten his hands on your background, but he just had that golden opportunity to prank Lucifer too...! He, of course, chose priority.

He knew MC were moody before they did; becoming a master of masks made him very perceptive of others emotions.

He offered help with de-stressing and with homework, thinking that was the issue.

He did not think that his books would eventually be thrown into a wall as MC stormed to their room only days later.

He was furious at the treatment of the books that he lent, and went to confront MC about their behavior towards everyone.

He didn’t expect to hear the tail end of a call MC was having with relatives back home.

“Yes Mom, thank you. I’ll have a good birthday, now bye.” MC hung up the phone, tired out of their mind.

Satan stepped in, knocking on the door lightly. Though still shocked from the news he just received, he knew that he needed to stay silent. For now.

“MC, you threw your books in the doorway. They have been lended to you and you could damage them that way.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t be so careless next time.” MC replied, running a hand down their face in exhaustion.

Satan smiled and said, “You damaged the books I lent you. You could make up for that.”

MC audibly gulped, worried what they had to do.

Satan continued, “You could work in Hells Kitchen tomorrow to replace them? Or, you could stay here and read for a bit, if stress or unwanted events seems to be the issue.”

MC looked up, shocked. Then they smiled. “I prefer option 2 the most. Thank you.”

The two of them then sat side by side, reading books until MC fell asleep.

“Goodnight, MC. Have sweet dreams.”

Asmodeus:

Asmodeus didn’t understand why you were so moody and sassy so suddenly. He, too, figured it was due to stress, so he scheduled a self care night... on your birthday.

He knew the stress should be causing break outs so when he saw the first sign of acne, he practically screamed.

But we all know the gossipy demons habits. The day at RAD had been normal, until the walk home.

MC was walking faster than the others, and was radiating annoyance.

Asmodeus followed you as fast as he could, hoping to do the self care session before homework.

He didn’t expect you to walk so fast either. He was sweating slightly and had to redo his make up.

As he walked into your room, he saw you toss a letter into a nearby trash bin.

He was about to question it as MC said, “It’s nothing, Asmo. It’s fine.”

MC then smiled, letting him do the self care session and offering to do homework with him so it was “less stressing”.

However, as MC left to go get their abandoned books in the main hall, he couldn’t help but peek at the envelope, addressed from MC’a family.

Shock was very evident on Asmo’s face as MC walked in. Knowing what convorsation was to come from the party-loving demon, they shut the door.

“Asmo, I can explain-”

“MC, honey, it’s your birthday?! No one knew!” Asmo sounded distressed and MC awkwardly patted his shoulder.

“It’s fine Asmo. I just don’t like celebrating my birthday. It makes me feel... old.”

Asmo nodded, trying to understand. Some people just didn’t flaunt their age.

Asmo then sighed. “At least let us do something fun for your birthday then. Ooh, you can tell me how old you are!”

“Nope. Never telling my age.”

Asmo deflated like a kicked puppy, only for MC to pipe up.

“Asmo, we could watch silly movies if you want.”

He smiled and hugged MC.

“Thank you, MC. Now, what genre do we watch?”

Beelzebub:

He knew you were upset about something. And it upset him. So while you were moody, Beel was trying to cheer you up.

Did you not eat enough? Were you getting too little sleep? Were you getting to stressed? Poor boy just wanted to help.

Which is why he was carrying a plate of MC’s favorite food to their room, while he munched on his own snacks.

When he got to their room, he realized that they’d locked themself inside. He knocked on the doors and MC opened them minuets later.

Seeing their favorite food, MC instantly smiled.

And then froze.

“Wait, how did you know what today is?”

Beelzebub was confused and tilted his head to the side. “What is today?”

MC realized that he was trying to just be kind.

“Oh, nothing! Uh, thank you for the food.”

Beel wouldn’t let this drop so he followed MC into their room as they carried their food in, munching on his snacks while looking around.

“MC, what is today?”

MC sighed and said “Today is my.... birthday. But I don’t like celebrating it. Makes me feel too old, you know?”

He actually didn’t but knew that humans lives were much different.

“Well, we don’t have to celebrate it, but knowing would have been nice.” He looked upset and MC instantly regretted it.

“It’s okay Beel! Really.” MC smiled warmly at him. They walked over and hugged the big demon before going back to their food.

Beel sighed and said, “Can we cuddle tonight?”

MC turned, shocked. He didn’t specifically ask for cuddles often, so this was unexpected. MC instantly asked, “Because it’s my birthday?”

Beel shook his head.

“I really like cuddling with you.”

Belphegor

He was honestly annoyed at MC’s behavior. And worried. But if anyone asked, he was annoyed at it.

He was shocked- but still tired. So he pushed MC over slightly and layer down next to them.

Him popping up in MCs room was honestly a normal thing. They’d do whatever they were doing and Belphie would claim their bed.

So when he slunk to their room, he didn’t expect to see them in their bed.

As he was falling asleep, he heard MC’s phone start ringing. She had set her ringtone from the human world to be berry annoying.

He picked up the phone and said, “They’re asleep.” Before he could hang up, he heard them yell, “Tell her we said happy birthday!”

He was confused. MC had been acting bratty... because it was their birthday?

He decided he needed a well-deserved nap first and that he’d handle it when he woke up.

They were both woke up a few hours later for dinner, and afterwards, MC retreated back to their room again.

Belphie snuck back into their bed, waiting for MC to finish their homework.

When MC finished, Belphie looked at them and said “Happy birthday.”

As MC spluttered and tried asking how he knew, he rolled his eyes and said, “You had family that called.”

“Oh.”

Belphie was by MCs side now, as they had been walking over to the bed during this ordeal.

“MC, I don’t need your reasoning for not telling me your birthday, but I hope I’ll be told next year?”

MC nods, smiling lightly.

“MC, will you watch the stars with me?”

(Aah, this took longer than expected!! I hope it’s what was expected)

[maladaptive---daydreamer]

Fake it till you make it

You were never really one to receive post from home. Your parents would send you a letter every once in a while, sometimes a small care package towards the end of term, but they would come in black lidded boxes tied together with red silk ribbon. This was the precise reason why you were so confused when a school post owl dropped a crushed brown box in front of you and flew back to the owlery.

“What the hell is that?” Your best friend, Draco, asked, voice laced with disgust.

“I have no idea” you replied, cautiously picking the box up looking for a clue as to who the sender was.

“Well open it, don't leave us in suspense, Y/N” Daphne urged.

You ripped the brown parchment off the box to be greeted with a cake box from a bakery in Hogsmeade. You lifted the crumpled box lid off to reveal a small square carrot cake. It had been decorated with white icing, and a note had been piped on with orange icing.

“Go out with me?” Daphne read. “Oh my, you’re getting asked out! Does it say who the sender was?”

Draco looked at you suddenly interested in this delivery.

“No it doesn’t, and I’m glad it doesn't because I definitely don’t want to go out with the owner of this cake.” You replied, pushing the box away from you and returning to your breakfast.

“You don't mind if I take that do you, Y/N?” Crabbe asked, licking his lips.

“Go ahead, Crabbe.” You pushed the box towards them and both him and Goyle reached for the cake.

“Acting as though you’ve never seen a cake in your lives, you disgust me the pair of you” Draco sneered. He picked up the parchment the cake was wrapped in with two fingers and began to stare at it.

“What are you doing?” You asked, looking up from the page of the Daily Prophet you were reading

“I’m checking to see who sent it.”

“I already did that, there was no name on it.”

“You might have missed it”

“I can read, Malfoy”

“Well there doesn't seem to be a name on here, a shame really, I would have enjoyed watching you turn him down and embarrass him in front of the whole school”

“Who said I would have turned him down?”

“You did, just now,”

“I only said that because its an anonymously sent cake, it could have been poisoned for all I know. Had I known who the cake was from I would have reacted differently”

Draco looked confused for a second before getting up, announcing he was going to make his way to potions. You and Daphne did the same a few minutes later and met up with him again in the queue outside the classroom. You had potions with the Ravenclaws, which according to the sorting hat was its next choice for you, but it believed you’d be better suited in Slytherin. It meant that you managed to get along well with some of the Ravenclaw students. Before long, Slughorn called you all in and you took your usual seat at the back, taking up a four-seat bench with you, Daphne, Draco and Blaise. Today's lesson was about sleeping potions, Slughorn announced he would be pairing you up rather than you working with the person you sat alongside. He began reading off a list, pairing Daphne with your friend, Alicia, Draco with Marcus Belby and you with Terry Boot.

You reluctantly got up and moved to a station near the front of the room.

“Morning, Y/N” Terry greeted, oddly giddy for a Tuesday morning

“Morning, Terry” you replied, giving him a small smile. You read through the instructions in your textbook and began to chop up your ingredients.

“Anything interesting happen this morning?” He asked, looking up from the valerian root he was chopping.

“I did get a weird package at breakfast.”

“Oh, you did?”

“Yeah, someone tried to ask me out, bit stupid though they didn't leave their name”

“I did! it was on the inside of the lid”

“Pardon?”

“Erm yeah sorry about that. What I meant to say is that I sent it.”

“Oh, right, well” You were honestly speechless, you had maybe spoken to Terry once, apologising for Draco’s remark about his mother.

“It's just you’re so beautiful and smart, and you’re nice”

“Terry I’m flattered but I’m just not interested”

“You think I’m ugly don’t you?”

“No- I”

“Don’t lie to me Y/N”

“No I swear, it's just” Your mind raced at a million miles an hour to try and come up with a passable lie. “It's just that I’m actually going out with someone already. We just haven't told anyone, you know how-”

“Who?” He cut you off, his face twisting with anger.

“I don't see how that’s any of your business” The sheer cheek of him was enough to make you angry as well,

“Well, then you’re lying, if it were true you’d say who. You do think I’m ugly”

“It’s,” You paused, blurting out the first name that came into your mind. “Its Draco”. You were already kicking yourself for spluttering his name out. Any Slytherin boy would have done fine, but you just had to say his name.

“Oh, right. Makes sense, you two are inseparable,”

An awkward silence had fallen over you and he barely spoke another word the whole lesson. Slughorn had administered each pairs sleeping potion on a cornish pixie, the pair who managed to keep their pixie asleep for long enough was due to receive a prize the next lesson. You returned to your seat at the back and grabbed your things.

“What’s wrong with you?” Draco asked, pulling the back of your robe

“Huh? what-”

“You look ill, do you need me to walk you to the hospital wing?”

“Walk the long way with me to defence against the dark arts?”

He nodded and the two of you left, splitting off from Daphne and Blaise.

You walked in silence for a bit

“Are you going to tell me what the matter is?” He stopped and faced you for a second

“I found out who sent me the cake” You admitted, continuing to walk

“And?”

“It was Terry Boot.”

Draco started to laugh.  “You’re lying”

“I swear but this isn't even the worst part” You were beginning to explain but he wouldn't stop laughing. “Draco, I’m serious! stop laughing there's more!”

He calmed down after a few seconds and you continued.

“I tried rejecting him nicely, but he just didn't take it. So I lied and told him I’m going out with someone”

“Oh? whos the unlucky bugger?”

You slapped his arm. “It's you”

“Me?” He looked genuinely shocked.

“I’m sorry it was the first name that came into my mind. But I just wanted to give you a heads up because he’ll probably tell his friends and the whole school will probably find out! Ugh I’m sorry Draco”

“Sorry for what?”

“Well that everyone’s going to think we're together”

“They could think of worse things, Y/N. Plus I don't care what they have to say about me,”

“you're not angry?”

“Of course not, people thought we were going out anyway.”

“Thank you, Draco, seriously”

“You know, we might as well make it believable, just until he moves on, something tells me Boot isn't going to let this drop.”

“What do you mean believable?”

“Like act like we’re a couple. Hold hands, you know all of that”

“But what about all your admirers”

“I could care less about them, your happiness and safety matters more than the opinions of the mediocre witches and wizards in this school”

You felt your heart swell a bit, you honestly didn't expect Draco to prioritise you like this. “So we should just fake it until he gets a girlfriend?��

“Exactly, just follow my lead”

You two ended up being a minute late to your lesson. He took your hand in his and the two of you walked in after everyone had taken their seats.

“Mr Malfoy, Miss Y/L/N, you are late to my lesson” Snape stated.

The whole class turned and looked at you, noting your hand clearly being held by Draco

“Sorry professor, we accidentally walked the long way from potions” Draco explained, swinging your hands.

“Two points from Slytherin, take your seats.” The two of you sat down.

“You and Draco?” Daphne hissed, knowing how long you had been crushing on him.

“Mind your business, Greengrass” Draco replied, sitting back in his chair putting his arm around the back of your seat.

“I'll explain later,” You promised, not wanting to piss off Snape, by talking in his lesson, any more than you already had.

For the rest of the day, you were ogled at like some caged animal in a zoo. Students from every year glanced and immediately dissolved into whispers with their friends. Word clearly travels fast around Hogwarts. You walked out of your last lesson with Daphne, getting ready to head to the Slytherin common room before dinner.

“You better be getting ready to explain this whole thing to me.” She said, pulling you away from the other students

“Yes, as soon as we get to our dorm-”

“Mind if I steal my girlfriend from you, Daphne?” Draco interrupted, appearing from what seemed to be nowhere.

“Yes I do actually,” She replied, pulling you further from Draco.

“Too bad, I’ll be taking her anyway”

“I swear I’ll tell you daph-” You explained apologetically, pulling your arm from her grasp.

Daphne stomped her foot like a toddler and turned to walk to the Slytherin common room. You, on the other hand, were stood with Draco, getting, even more, stares because the two of you were finally stood together, giving feeding truth into the rumour that was swirling around the school. He put his arm lazily around your shoulders and the two of you began your stroll to a more quiet part of the castle.

“I know you want to tell Daphne everything, but do you think that's wise?” He asked quietly

“Yes, she's my best friend, why wouldn't I?”

“I thought I was, I’m hurt”

“You are, you mug, but she is too”

“You know what a big mouth Daphne has, not to mention you know what she’s like once shes had a bit to drink, she might let it slip.”

You pondered what Draco had said. It was no secret that Daphne Greengrass liked to gossip, but it was also no secret that she couldn't handle her alcohol, spilling some of her families darkest secrets after a few shots. Not to mention had she slipped out that you lied about dating Draco it would be embarrassing for not only you but him.

“Ugh I hate that you’re right”

“When am I not?”

“But what am I supposed to tell her when she asks? She knows when I’m lying”

“Well we did spend basically the entire summer together, we’ll just say it happened then.”

“This is all so stressful! Why couldn't I have thought of another excuse? If I knew this was going to be the outcome, I would have agreed with him and said I found him ugly,” You dropped your head onto his chest. He wrapped both of his arms around you, swaying side to side.

“I know, love, but its too late to go back now”

You and Draco had been in this exact moment before in your friendship, only this time it felt different. You felt like you were more than two best friends consoling one another, it was almost as if you were just two teenagers in love. Only for a short while before reality came crashing down on you, it was all just fake.

The two of you went back to the common room to drop your school bags and robes before making your way to the hall for dinner. Despite it being late, there was still a large proportion of students sat down to eat. You took a deep breath as Draco’s hold on your hand tightened and the two of you walked in. Every single pair of eyes in the room were trained on you, it felt like an eternity before you finally got to your seats on the Slytherin table.

“Finally, you have no excuse not to explain yourself to me now, Y/N” Daphne scoffed.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Greengrass. Were going out, that's it, what more do you want?” Draco retorted.

“Id like to know when, how, where. All of the details, Malfoy”

“Well we started going out in the holidays-” You began to explain before she cut you off.

“Pardon, the summer? As in 6 months ago? You have been hiding your relationship from me, your best friend for 6 whole months?” Daphne’s voice began to rise.

“Daphne-”

“Watch how you talk to my girlfriend, Greengrass, otherwise you'll find you can't speak another word.” Draco practically snarled at her, he looked as though he was about to rip her head off.

“I wanted to tell you, Daph I really did, I just wanted to keep it between Draco and I for a while, just in case it didn't work out, so it wouldn't be awkward.” You explained calmly.

“Hm, I guess that's a valid reason, you’re forgiven for now. But from here on out, I want to know everything. Did you at least find out who that ghastly cake was from?”

“Terry Boot”

She almost choked on her rice. You filled her goblet with some water and slid it to her.

“He confessed to me in potions, I tried to say I wasn't interested but he basically forced me to admit that I had a boyfriend”

“You poor thing,”

She had quickly forgotten and moved onto the next piece of Hogwarts gossip that took her fancy. Draco was engrossed with his own conversations and it hit you, your new reality was Draco Malfoy’s girlfriend, that was until Terry Boot managed to get his own one. It was something you had wanted since the second year, you felt as though you should have been over the moon, one of your most wild fantasies was playing out right in front of you, but you weren't. It wasn't going to last, you were sure he didn't even like you that way, he was just being the kind but overprotective Draco you had got to know over the past few years.

Once you had filled yourselves up with dinner, you and your friends made your way back to the common room, Draco's hand found yours and he held it as you walked down to the dungeons. Once you had got to the common room, Blaise forced a group of fourth years off the sofa in front of the fire and pulled out his deck of exploding snap, which you all played as a group. The warmth of the fire coupled with the comfort of the sofa made you want to curl up and fall asleep, you could feel your eyelids drooping as you tried and failed to suppress a yawn.

“Tired, love?” He asked, tilting his head.

“A little bit, I think I’ll head up to sleep in a bit” You responded, another small yawn passing your lips.

He nodded and simply pulled you into his side, your head falling on his chest and his arm around you resting on your hip

“God, you two are disgusting” Pansy grumbled as she walked past, taking note of you and Draco in your loved-up state.

“We all know you're just jealous you’re not in Y/N’s place” Crabbe laughed.

“Shut up Crabbe,” She snapped, trying to hit him around the back of his head but failing.

Your whole group laughed as she stomped away. You only managed to last another hour before you really were going to fall asleep, though you were reluctant to move from your position, you got up and announced you'd be heading to bed.

“I think I’ll join you.” Daphne yawned, getting up and stretching.

You made a move to leave but were pulled back by Draco.

“Gonna leave without saying goodnight were you?” He smiled

You laughed, “of course not, goodnight, Draco”

He kissed the back of your hand, sending a jolt of electricity from where his lips touched right to your brain, “goodnight, princess”

You smiled and headed up to bed, feeling as though you were floating on cloud 9.

Over the next few days, you had fallen into a routine, he’d wait at the bottom of the stairs from your dormitory for you to come down every morning, as soon as he saw you, he’d chirp a “good morning, love” before walking you to breakfast. He would walk you to and from every lesson that you didn’t have with him, he even went as far as waiting outside the girl's bathroom for you so he could walk with you back to the library. You had to admit it, Draco Malfoy was the best fake boyfriend.

One cold Wednesday afternoon, you were in the middle of a potions lesson, Slughorn was going on and on about the properties of belladonna, he even hinted it would come up in your exam, but all you could focus on was the contractions of your uterus. The first two days of your period were the worst, horrific cramps, bloating, tender boobs and hot flushes. Madam Pomfrey was aware of how debilitating your period was and would always send owls to your teachers informing them you would be absent from lessons, you didn't even care that Snape would find out about your period, all you wanted was to lie in bed. You tried your hardest to ride out the pain for the next 40 minutes of the lesson before you could go to the hospital wing and get something for the pain.

“Just ask Slughorn to leave early,” Daphne whispered.

“This is going to be on the exam, I can't just leave now”

“Y/N, you are literally dying, I’ll give you my notes, just please go to the hospital wing”

“I’ll be fine,”

You took a deep breath and shrugged your robe off you in an attempt to cool down. Draco slide you a note

‘Everything okay?’

‘Yeah, just my period, nothing to worry about :)’

‘Are you sure? I know how bad they get’

‘I’ll be fine, focus on the lesson!’

‘How can I focus when you’re in pain’

‘Oh shut up, I’ll be fine, I’m a big girl’

Draco read your last message and slid the sheet of parchment into his textbook. Another jolt of pain ran across your abdomen, causing you to squeeze your belly in pain. Draco’s arm shot up almost instantaneously.

“Professor, Y/N isn't feeling well, may I escort her to the hospital wing?”

“Of course m’boy”

You glared at Draco before collecting your things. and trying to discreetly leave the classroom without disrupting the lesson further.

“Do feel better Y/L/N” Slughorn called from the front of the room.

“Thank you, professor” you mumbled, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Here give me your bag,” He said, going to grab your bag off your shoulder.

“I’m on my period, Draco, not dying”

He held out his hand anyway and you handed him your bag. He knew you hated being touched too much, it made you feel hotter, so he linked his pinky with yours.

“The corridors are empty, you don't need to hold my hand,” you stated, looking around

“I don't need to but I like to, your hands are soft” You saw him blush slightly as he said it. You simply smiled as the two of you walked into the hospital wing.

“Ah, miss Y/L/N, I’ve been expecting a visit from you” Madam Pomfrey went into her store cupboard and produced a violet potion and measured a dose. “You know the drill, come back tomorrow after breakfast and I’ll give you more, I’ll send an owl to your teachers, what’s your next lesson?”

“We have transfiguration” Draco answered for you while you finished downing your medicine.

“Right, well I’ll tell Professor McGonagall you'll both be absent from the lesson, be sure to catch up with the missing work Mr Malfoy”

You thanked Madam Pomfrey before returning to the Slytherin dormitory. The boys had managed to disable the charm that prevented them from coming up into the girls' dorms, so Draco followed you up.

“Draco, honestly I’m fine.” You signed, dropping onto your bed

“You don’t look fine,” He crossed his arms and looked down at you.

“I just need to get into some comfy clothes and lie down and I’ll be fine, I even have chocolate in my trunk.” You crouched down and opened your trunk and fished out your slab of Honeydukes chocolate. surprised to find that you only had 6 squares left.

“That’s hardly enough, wait here.”

“Dra-”

He turned and went down the stairs, leaving you alone. You changed out of your skirt and into some comfy trousers and were about to unbutton your blouse when Draco returned with a full slab of Honeydukes chocolate and his old quidditch jumper.

“I remember you saying how soft this was, I don't need it anymore, you're free to keep it,” He said sheepishly

“Thank you, Draco, seriously” He smiled at you and just stood there, looking at you. “Erm, I need to change,”

He slowly turned around and you unbuttoned your blouse and unhooked your bra throwing it on your bed before putting the jumper on.

“I’m done,”

He turned around, his eyes immediately landing on your black lace bra on your bed, you followed his gaze and quickly snatched the bra and stuffed it back in your trunk.

“I had you pegged for a cotton bra girl myself,” He smirked

“If you think that's scandalous, you should see what I wear on the bottom” you replied, winking. You got under your covers and began to open the chocolate, Draco sat awkwardly at the foot of your bed.

“Why are you sitting like that?”

“I’ve never been in your dormitory before,”

“It's literally the same as yours, come, sit” You moved a bit to the side and he came and sat next to you, stretching his legs out. At this point it was a reflex, his arms wrapped themselves around you as you buried yourself into him.

“Draco,”

“Hmmm”

“Thank you,”

“You’ve said that already”

“I mean it, honestly,”

“Anything for you, princess”. You two fell into a comfortable silence as you lay on his chest, being lulled to sleep by his chest rising and falling.

You were awoken by a loud squeal, you blinked and slowly opened your eyes.

“You two are just the cutest!” Daphne shouted.

You looked around confused for a moment until you saw what was in Daphne’s hand. She handed you a small bouquet of roses with a note attached that read:

I didn't have the heart to wake you, I’ll bring you dinner if you're not up to coming down, I hope you feel better, love - D x

You smiled as you conjured up a small vase filled with water. It was time to admit it, you were deeply, truly and utterly in love with Draco Malfoy

A Hogsmeade trip had been planned for that weekend, at first, you were planning on skipping it, but after some convincing, you decided you’d go. You decided to replenish your potions store, as well as getting some more quills and ink. Draco treated you to some sweets from Honeydukes, before you and your group headed into the three broomsticks to grab a butterbeer before you returned to the castle. You sat in a booth with Blaise, Daphne, Goyle and Pansy, choosing to squeeze yourself right in the corner. Blaise got up to order the drinks returning a few moments later with six butterbeers in his hands. The six of you fell into a discussion about the quidditch tournament, the boys getting heated over Ravenclaw’s win over Slytherin in their last match. After a while Daphne excused herself to go to the bathroom, only to run back a few moments later.

“You will not guess who I just saw snogging Hannah Abbott in the women’s toilet” Daphne yelled, sitting back in her seat at the end of the table.

You all looked at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Terry fucking Boot!”

The whole group looked at you and Draco. At that moment you felt a million different emotions, recently it had felt like you weren't faking anymore, you had tricked yourself into thinking that it was all real, forgetting about your deal with Draco. But you knew that this revelation meant it was all over, you and Draco would fake an amicable break-up and remain to be best friends and the thought of that killed you.

“Well, at least now he won't get hexed for looking at my girlfriend” Draco joked.

You smiled and took a sip of your butterbeer. Once you had all finished your drinks, you returned to the castle and settled in your spot in the common room. You were sat with Draco but all you could think about was how this little bubble you were in was going to burst soon. You practically zoned out, your eyes losing focus as you stared at the fire.

“Are you quite alright? You look as though you’ve been stunned” Daphne asked, looking confused.

“Mmm I don’t feel too good, I don't think being out in the cold was a good idea” you mumbled, blinking slowly.

Daphne came and felt your forehead.

“You do feel a bit warm, why don’t you go lie down for a while”

You agreed and went up to lie in your bed for a while. You ended up skipping dinner too, you played up your symptoms to Daphne and she left you alone out of fear that she’d catch whatever you had. You didn’t end up getting out of bed until the next morning, barely having the energy to brush your teeth before you trudged to the great hall for breakfast in your pyjamas. Draco saw you come in and his eyes lit up, he was worried after Daphne told him you were sick. As soon as you sat down he began to pile food into your plate.

“Whoa calm down, I’ll barely be able to eat half of that” You pushed his hand back to the bowl of baked beans prompting him to drop the spoon back into the bowl.

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday, you must be starving, love”

You shook your head reaching for a cereal bowl instead. He looked at you concern filling his face. He kept glancing over at you while you ate, making note of your unusual silence. Once he had noticed you stopped eating your cereal squeezed your hand under the table, you pulled your hand away and acted as though you were scratching an itch on the side of your neck.

“Y/N why don’t we take a visit to madam Pomfrey, just to make sure you’re okay”

“I’m fine Draco, it’s probably just a cold”

“Draco’s right, you should make sure it’s nothing contagious or something” Daphne agreed

“Fine, let’s go then” You dusted your pyjamas off and got up, defeated.

You followed Draco out of the great hall. He began walking the opposite direction to the hospital wing and pulled you into a deserted part of the corridor.

“Are you okay?” He asked immediately, his tall frame towering over you.

“I’m just tired Draco, that’s all”

“You can’t lie to me, I’m your best friend”

“I’m not lying, I’m just tired, I haven’t been sleeping well the past few days”

“Has someone said something? Threatened you? I swear if I get my hands on them”

“No ones done anything. You don’t need to keep the overprotective boyfriend act up anymore, we’re alone and Terry has a girlfriend now”

“Act?” His face had fallen and he turned to look away

“Draco?”

“You really thought it was all an act?”

“Was it not? You said it yourself, we were faking it until he got a girlfriend so that he wouldn’t try and make a move on me”

“How can you be one of the smartest witches in our house but be so dense at the same time. “

“Excuse me,”

“It wasn't an act for me”

Your heart stopped.

“What?” you honestly couldn’t believe what you were hearing

“It wasn't an act for me. I didn't do all that just because I wanted Boot to back off, I did it cause I’ve fancied you for a while” Draco began pacing, as he explained himself

“but-”

“You said you would have gone out with the sender of that cake if it wasn't anonymously sent. I don't know why, but it didn’t sit right with me. I didn't like the fact that you were willing to go out with someone that wasn't me.”

“So you waited for me to find out who did send it, so you could propose this crazy idea?”

“I didn’t expect you to find out, hell I didn't even know I was going to say it, but once you agreed to go along with it, I felt like maybe you’d see that us being more than just best friends wasn't that bad, and maybe you'd be willing to give me a chance.”

“Can I let you in on a little secret?”

He stopped and looked down at you and nodded,

“I've fancied you since second year”

He smiled and grabbed both your hands

“And since we’ve been fake going out, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you now,”

“Say that again”

“I’m in love with you Draco,”

“Say it again,” he said, placing his hands on your cheeks and staring into your eyes with adoration.

You laughed “I love you”

“I love you so much more, princess. Way more than I can even explain”

You beamed up at him, you felt like you could honestly explode at this point. all those years of crushing on him and wishing you could tell him how you felt, and here you were.

“I'm going to kiss you” He whispered

“I think it's about time you did”

He moved slowly before giving you a sweet but passionate kiss. His lips were softer than you thought they'd be.

“At least now we don't need to worry about telling our friends,” You joked, resting your forehead against his.

He laughed and kissed you again. Something you know you would never get tired of. As cliche as it seemed, you did it, your best friend was now your boyfriend. It was just you and Draco, safe in your perfect bubble.

[decks-writing-blog]

I am the King!

The Hand of the King stood across the way, looming large and intimidating in front of the smoldering remains of the throne. He wouldn’t move from there no matter how long Behead hung around out here. Or at least his patience for standing around was always far greater than theirs. Even during the instances they’d done their best to taunt him, he hadn’t responded. Like the real pain in the ass he was, he’d only move once they entered into his arena trap. Where he’d ‘kill’ them again as he’d done many, many times before.

Beheaded had killed him a few times before too but not in a long while and they didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell this attempt either. Their health flask was empty and their body was far too damaged to survive more than a blow or two from his massive blade. It was annoyinglosing so many times to him, especially in a row. Did he even remember any of it though? No one ever seemed to comment on the fact that the island was stuck in a time loop so was Beheaded the only one who remembered or knew? Other than Time Keeper anyway, presumably the one responsible for the looping and thus had to know by default. Or was it common knowledge and thus not something worth mentioning? … Perhaps they should try to ask someone sometime.

Speaking of asking about things though, a handful of runs ago they’d finally managed to defeat the Giant. He’d called them ‘King’. It had been odd but they’d quickly put it out of their mind. In part due to their frustration with losing to the Hand again, ruining their good mood gained from beating the Giant. But now that they were thinking of it again as they sat on the ground in a small pool of their current body’s blood, staring across at the impassive Hand, why had he called them that?

They had no memories outside of this time loop but they’d already determined they’d probably once upon a time been human – or at least created from a human body – based off stuff they’d found in the Undying Shores. But the King? How likely was that in truth? Impossible for them to say for sure since they didn’t know about what might or might not have happened to him before everything completely fell to ruin. But it didn’t really matter to them much either way. Except for the fact that if they hadbeen the King that would mean the Hand of the King had been their Hand. It would also explain their irrational anger at the sight of the ‘King’ on the throne. … But wouldn’t having seen him there contradict the Giant calling them ‘King’? … He hadn’t seemed very alive though, not reacting at all to anything so clearly something was up there. Plus the whole time loop thing made for some pretty weird happenings. So it was still possible Beheaded was the King and thus the Hand was theirs.

It’d be pretty neat to have a big strong fellow like him be at their beck and call. Or at least firmly in their command. … What did hands of kings even do? Were they some kind of special servant guard, second in command, or something else? … It didn’t matter, there’d be no killing him this time no matter what so maybe reigning him back into their control – even if it was only for this loop if he didn’t remember in future loops – would be a fun alternative. It would certainly be something different to do anyway; a brief break from being sliced to bits and slicing monsters to bits in turn.

Carefully, Beheaded, stood back up. They took one step closer to the Hand but stopped. How would they reign him back in when they couldn’t speak to tell him they were the King he was supposed to be the Hand of? Did they have something to write on that they could toss his way? … No. Nor did they have anything to write with other than perhaps their own blood. So how would they communicate? …

Well if they trying to be ‘friendly’ anyway… They took another couple steps closer, putting them near the edge of where his arena would start. Then they lifted a hand in their best attempt at a friendly wave. A foreign gesture to them, probably from even back when they’d been a human, if what they’d surmised about what kind of person the King had been was true.

The Hand didn’t respond of course but that was expected. However his stance seemed to finally change a little as Beheaded lifted up their crossbow and made of show of putting it on the ground. Next, they pulled their backpack off and made another show of taking out their shield and traps and placing them on the ground next to the crossbow. And just for good measure, they dropped the backpack too before splaying out their arms, palms open, as they strode closer.

This was a stupid idea, disarming themself like a fool before approaching such a dangerous foe. But they’d have ‘died’ even if they’d gone in ready to fight like they usually did. So really the only thing at stake was their pride and dignity, which, considering how many times the Hand had ‘killed’ them with seeming ease already, wouldn’t be thathurt by another such event anyway.

Proving once and fall all that the Hand was still sane, he allowed Beheaded to slowly stride close to him without jumping out to attack like he normally did. He finally moved when they were about three quarters of the way across the arena towards him, lifting a hand in a gesture to stop. It grated on their nerves to do so but they obeyed, dropping their arms to hang limp at their sides as the Hand now started slowly approaching them.

He stopped a foot or so a way, within striking distance for him but safe from them, as if they could actually do anything to him anyway. “What?” His voice was deeper than they would’ve thought but understandably full of suspicion and anger as he glared down at them. Interesting how even though his eyes were hidden beneath the shadow of his helmet along with the rest of his face, his gaze could still be felt.

Beheaded bristled under it because who was he to look so disdainfully down at them? Only because they’d already come this far, they refrained from lifting a hand to flip him off, instead they lifted their index finger in a ‘wait a moment’ gesture. Then, fighting every instinct they’d gained during these many, many and increasingly more dangerous and violent run throughs of the island, they turned their back on him and crouched down. They were bleeding freely from multiple wounds, their clothes stuck uncomfortably warm and wet to their body with it, making getting enough on their finger tip to write on the ground with easy.

“I was not aware you were even capable of trying to communicate,” the Hand said as they wrote. Again, they were tempted to snap around and flip him off, with both hands this time, but they refrained once more, hating it and kind of regretting attempting this. But it was too late to back down now and he should apologize profusely to them once he knew the truth. … Or if he believed their lie, assuming the Giant had been incorrect in addressing them as ‘King’ or straight up lying, either was possible.

As they finished dotting the exclamation point, they looked over what they’d written so far. ‘I am the King!’ Perhaps they should’ve gone with all caps to make it more impactful, too late now though. Now should they write more and offer an explanation? … They didn’t really have an explanation though other than the Giant had called them ‘my King’ a grand total of once. Which wasn’t a lot to go on and they weren’t sure it was true themself. So their message was fine as it was.

They hopped back up to their feet, turning to face the Hand again. Taking a step to the side, they gestured for him to come closer and read their message. He hesitated for a second or two, just glaring at them before stepping closer to look down.

Immediately his stance shifted. Beheaded began moving before he’d even started lifting his lance but was still a bit too close and not quite fast enough to get out of its range before its end was slicing diagonally through their chest.

As always the ‘death’ blow was the most painful. They started disconnecting from it and the now useless body even before hitting the ground. The thud of the body landing in the dirt helped jostle them the rest of the way out. They pulled the last of their tendrils out and…

An armored boot stomped down on them, flattening them into the dirt and blocking out their vision. Then, adding insult to injury, the boot ground roughly down into them. Rude and utterlyuncalled for! Seriously what kind of asshole did that kind of thing?

There was nothing Beheaded could do about it though. So for now, they used the bits of themself smooshing out around the boot to pull the rest of themself out. A task made more difficult by his weight pressing down on them but they were slippery enough that they could still do it rather quickly. They naturally sprang back up into a blob.

They glanced back at the Hand, glaring down at them and holding his now bloody lance at his side. Even just being able to flip him off would be nice. But they couldn’t so before any more harm could be done to their dignity, they turned their gaze away and quickly rolled off. They’d be back though. And when they returned, they were going to make him pay for being such an ass.

[plumoh]

[SK8] whirlwind

Rating: G

Word count: 2341

Summary: Three times Kaoru gets into a fight; Kojirou is never too far away. / high school era.

Note: AO3 link. As usual, high school era means pre-relationship and Kaoru being a little bit oblivious to Kojirou’s feelings haha.

i.

Kaoru didn’t mean to punch him.

Well. That’s not exactly true. He did want to punch that smug smile off the bastard’s face, but he didn’t mean to knock him out. It’s not his fault that his punch landed exactly at an angle that made the guy’s head twist on the side and bang on the streetlamp, before collapsing on the ground and invoking a silence so loud everyone’s breathing felt like an entire storm.

And then all the guy’s goons start screaming and yelling for blood, pointing accusing fingers at Kaoru like Kaoru just killed someone (their boss isn’t dead, not yet), and most of them also start crowding around him with a palpable vengeful intent. As if that will ever intimidate him.

Nobody thinks that Kaoru is built to fight, which propels them into a state of shock and complete disbelief when he attacks first and manages to strike down two people by smashing their heads together and kicking them in the stomach for good measure. He doesn’t stop moving, always ready to spring back and to collide his fist with something breakable or crouching low to dodge and literally sweep them off their feet. He’s like a volcano being poked until it swallows everything around him.

His impulsiveness means he gets hurt too, mostly from his own moves that use more strength than necessary, but also from attacks he decides to go up against instead of avoiding, simply to get closer to his opponent. He ends up with scratches on his face and bruises on his legs or cuts on his arms, in a way that undeniably adds to his overall appearance of a troublemaker. He doesn’t give a shit; the messier and more dangerous he looks, the better.

It’s when most of the guys have fled, leaving Kaoru breathing hard and leaning forward with his hands on his knees, that Kojirou materializes next to him.

“What the hell, Kaoru?” Kojirou yells, not knowing if touching Kaoru will be a wise idea. “Did you pick a fight with random people again?”

“I didn’t pick a fight with them, they provoked me,” Kaoru growls, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. It comes away with a little blood. “Why do you always assume I’m the one instigating?”

“Maybe because two times out of three you’re the one who throws the first punch,” Kojirou mumbles.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

“Am I wrong, though?”

Kaoru makes a poor attempt at shoving Kojirou in the shoulder but he misses by a large margin and ends up swatting at his chest, which does nothing to abate Kojirou’s annoyance.

“Shut up,” Kaoru says.

Kojirou shakes his head and takes Kaoru’s arm to steady him, dragging him towards a less crowded and more luminous place to get a look at his injuries with supplies that seem to have appeared from nowhere.

ii.

Kojirou nearly lands on his face after failing a trick, all graceless and devoid of finesse, which makes Kaoru double over in laughter.

“That was really stupid,” Kaoru snorts.

“Yeah, I didn’t see you try doing that trick,” Kojirou scoffs.

“At least I don’t look like a limp caterpillar when I’m on the ground like you are.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

Kojirou picks himself up from the ground and dusts off his pants, looking back at the track that he just descended from. Kaoru watches the way Kojirou is considering the path again, eyes focused on the last meters of the bumpy pavement. They chose this part of the track specifically because it isn’t well-maintained, full of holes and uneven ground that forces them to work on their stability. Kojirou, like the brainless ape he is, wanted to show off by doing some fancy trick that only served as evidence of his stupidity.

“Hey, you’re Sakurayashiki, right?”

Kaoru turns around and raises en eyebrow. He has no idea who the guy talking to him is.

“Get out of our turf,” the guy says on a tone that’s supposed to be menacing. “Or you’ll regret it.”

“Your turf?” Kaoru repeats, unimpressed. “The hell are you on?”

“You thought you could swing by after sending some of our guys to the hospital?”

The words go in Kaoru’s ear and make a swift exit in the other. He blinks.

“I didn’t send anyone in the hospital,” he says, tone raising like a question as he turns around to address Kojirou.

Kojirou lifts his hands in sign of innocence. “I don’t know, I’m not there to watch you fight every single person in this city.”

“You would remember if I did anything like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I just said I don’t know!”

“Stop ignoring me!”

Kojirou shouts wordlessly and yanks Kaoru by the arm, saving him from a well-aimed kick that would have sent Kaoru sprawling, and suddenly it’s like a switch has been flipped.

People say that Kaoru has a bad temper, an accusation that’s not totally unfounded. He’s quick to anger and he doesn’t mince his words—when he’s having a casual conversation with someone, many wrinkle their nose at his lack of proper forms of address, and others outright say he shouldn’t be so aggressive in his choice of words. One can only imagine how vulgar and straightforward he is when he’s insulting someone or spitting out a string of curses that are probably not yet in the dictionary.

Kojirou, of course, has a deep knowledge of the ways Kaoru can react before a taunt, a physical threat or a low blow to his ego. He’s not exactly a saint either, since he will without a doubt get into a fight if he’s provoked enough, or throw back cruel words when the situation calls for it, but between the two, Kojirou has less difficulty keeping his bad mood in check.

Kaoru twists around and is ready to swing his fist at full speed, but Kojirou is already scolding him while having a grip of iron on his arm. He’s also trying to drag him back, stopping him from making even one step towards their opponent who is, quite frankly, looking too fucking pleased with himself.

“What, too chicken to fight me?” the guy snickers. “Too scared of hurting your little hands?”

“I’m gonna punch a hole through your skull, you absolute buffoon,” Kaoru hisses, struggling against Kojirou’s grip. “Let me go, Kojirou!”

“Stop getting into fights, damn it!” Kojirou yells.

“He asked for it!”

“Same difference, you idiot!”

Kojirou loops his arms under Kaoru’s armpits and keeps him still, pressed against his torso, even when Kaoru is trying to pull forward with the sheer force of his will. Kojirou’s stronger than Kaoru, but Kaoru doesn’t give a shit when he is moved by rage alone, stomping and wriggling and squirming in the hopes of getting away.

The guy is watching them with the most self-satisfied smirk ever, as if Kaoru’s inaction is proof of his victory over a petty squabble that Kaoru himself doesn’t remember. It pisses him off.

He usually wouldn’t resort to such dirty tactics. In a fight, the more they use their fists and feet and entire bodies, the more gratifying it is. Sporting injuries and scars are simply a natural consequence of it, and everyone should wear them proudly—like real battle scars, resembling a physical history of their hard-won fights.

Kaoru’s skateboard is within leg reach. He has long legs, Kojirou keeps reminding him, so might as well make use of them. He makes one big step forward, grunting when he’s met with resistance due to Kojirou holding him back, but he manages to have his foot on the tail-end of the deck and brings the skateboard at his feet. He can feel Kojirou’s and the bastard’s confused and intrigued gazes on him; all he does is offer a grin, the sunlight catching on his lip ring like some wicked gleam of mischievousness.

Kaoru gives a harsh kick into his skateboard that goes straight towards the guy, hitting his ankle at full speed and tearing a cry of pain and surprise out of his throat. He puts all his weight on his other foot and cradles his injured ankle, glaring at Kaoru with burning anger. Kaoru isn’t sorry in the least.

“I’ll end you,” the man threatens, visibly shaking with fury.

“Good luck with that ankle,” Kaoru replies smugly. “You’ll fall over before you can land a single hit on me.”

Kojirou audibly sighs and shakes his head. And then, two things happen at once.

The first is that their friend bends down with difficulty, not wishing to put strain on his ankle, and picks up the skateboard. He gives it a long contemplative look, like he’s wondering if this object is worth his interest, before dropping it back on the ground and getting on it.

The second is Kaoru watching this with mounting irritation and rage, and he decides that stomping on Kojirou’s foot to let him go is less aggravating than letting some random prick steal his skateboard. So he does just that with minimal hesitation, causing Kojirou to loudly yelp as his grip loosens enough for Kaoru to slip out.

Skating all day doesn’t mean they can’t run with their feet. Kaoru pushes on his feet like his life depends on it and in a few large strides he catches up to the guy just as he starts skating away, and Kaoru, without a second thought, decks him.

Skateboard back in hand, a broad smile splitting his face in two, Kaoru leaves the track with a victorious fist lifted in the air, to Kojirou’s growing exasperation.

iii.

Kaoru presses his lips together and remains stubbornly silent.

“Kaoru.”

Arms crossed and a frown deeper than usual on his face, Kojirou is staring at him with disappointment so clear that Kaoru actually feels bad, for once. He shrugs.

“You’re lucky that it didn’t rip off your lip,” Kojirou continues. “Why did you get piercings if you know you’ll never resist fighting people? Do you want to risk permanent damage just because your brain is filled with a useless need to fight?”

“Shut up, Kojirou,” Kaoru mutters.

Kaoru winces when Kojirou presses something cold on his mouth, gently dabbing at it and being careful about the lip ring, whose presence alone did a number on his face. Having his head smashed into the ground would do that, he supposes.

Kojirou is silently working on cleaning and bandaging his various cuts and bruises on his face. Kaoru glances up, noticing that the tense line of Kojirou’s shoulders is heavier than usual, a bit more worried, as if today’s encounter could have ended in a disaster. It wasn’t any worse than the previous times. Maybe Kaoru got roughed up a bit more and maybe he got kicked in the ribs more times than necessary and yes, maybe he should have taken off his earrings and lip ring before going skating, but these are all possible factors disrupting his routine he always considers before doing anything. And it’s not like he knows in advance that someone will pick a fight with him. He just got unlucky this time.

Kaoru watches Kojirou’s brows knit together in concentration. This isn’t a rare expression on his face, but Kaoru has never noticed the way Kojirou’s focus is single-minded when he does this kind of detail-oriented tasks, or the way he purses his lips like he does when he’s trying to solve a complicated math problem. It’s the face he makes when something requires his entire attention, unperturbed and going at the pace he needs to finish what he started.

“Hm,” Kaoru says, partly because he’s thinking and partly because he shouldn’t open his still bleeding mouth.

“What?” Kojirou’s gaze never strays from Kaoru’s injury.

Kojirou takes Kaoru’s hand and guides it towards the compress placed on the corner of his mouth, and makes him apply pressure while the cleaning shifts to his ear. Kaoru’s lip isn’t bleeding as much as before, judging by the color of the compress that didn’t become completely red in five seconds, so he supposes talking shouldn’t make matters worse.

“Your precision is a bit surprising,” he admits, laughter in his voice. “I didn’t think you could be so calm while handling things that need careful maneuvering.”

“I’m not the one who can’t break eggs without dropping pieces of shell in them,” Kojirou snipes back.

Kaoru rolls his eyes. “Breaking eggs needs practicing, and I can still pick out the shell pieces if I really need to. If you poke someone in the wrong place while tending to their injuries then you’ll make it worse, moron.”

Kojirou is visibly putting all his efforts into remaining focused on his task, trying not to get riled up by Kaoru’s comments. It would be funny to watch, actually, if Kaoru wasn’t the one receiving treatment.

“I haven’t let you down yet, have I?” Kojirou asks.

And Kaoru can’t find anything scathing as an answer, staring at Kojirou’s bright eyes that never hide what he’s feeling.

“I suppose you haven’t, no,” Kaoru says lowly.

“You’re so much trouble, you know that?” Kojirou sighs.

But he finally meets Kaoru’s gaze and Kaoru is almost taken aback by the sincerity and raw emotion shining in it, like Kojirou is looking at a treasure he has locked behind a chest and kept the key close to his heart. Kaoru swallows.

“Not as much as you,” he replies with less bite than he intended.

“Says the one who is covered in bandages and band-aids.”

“I have to put up with your nonsense every day!”

“And I have to drag your ass back from whatever scuffle you get involved in!”

Kaoru shoves his hand in Kojirou’s face, and they start jostling each other, as if they weren’t being as still and cautious as possible to avoid complicating the process of patching Kaoru up. This familiarity, too, is something that will never change, no matter what happens—Kojirou has Kaoru’s back.

[lettheladylead]

avoid the unhappy ending (ch4)

ships/characters: Goldie, Webby, Dewey, Scooge/Goldie, Webby/Lena words (ch4): ~1900  summary: Goldie comes to town to see Scrooge. Instead, she somehow manages to run into literally everyone else. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108943/chapters/66282616

Chapter 4 below the cut:

That was not someone she’d anticipated speaking to anytime soon. Or, well, ever.

When Duckworth died, Goldie found out almost right away. Scrooge was already in his deep My-Niece-Is-Missing depression at the time, during which she tried to reach out every other year just to make sure he was still alive. He didn’t always pick up the phone, but that time he did, and he’d simply said, “What do you need? I don’t have the energy for games. Duckworth is dead.”

In what she considered probably not her finest moment, Goldie responded with, “You can’t stuff everyone in an immortal magic castle, Scroogey.”

After he hung up on her, they didn’t discuss it any other time. No one had mentioned his ghost hanging around. Now she almost felt bad about what she said.

Goldie stepped through the hallway and looked at the stairs. She sighed and sat on the second-to-top stair, leaning against the top with her head back. She looked up at the ceiling. This day was turning out to be very...conversational. It wasn’t what she’d planned on - usually Scrooge was much easier to find.

She closed her eyes and took a moment just for herself. She’d check downstairs for Scrooge, and then he wouldn’t be there because why would he be? That’d be too simple. He was apparently not going to make this easy for her.

A moment later, there were some small footsteps behind her that suddenly came to a stop. Goldie opened one eye to see a familiar tiny face staring down.

“Hey, Kiddo.”

“What are you doing on the stairs?” Webby asked with a tilt of her head.

“...thinking.” She closed her eyes again, hoping the kid would take the hint and go away.

Instead, Webby kneeled down and plopped herself next to the much older woman.

Goldie turned her head and opened her eyes again. “Can I help you with something?”

There was a good chunk of silence before Webby finally spoke.

“You’re a con artist and a thief.”

“True.”

“My granny says no one should ever trust you.”

“True.”

“Uncle Scrooge says you’re always looking for angles.”

“True.”

“But Louie says you’re just a softie trying to look tough.”

“Tru-wait, what?” Goldie sat up and stared at her. “I’m sure he must’ve been talking about someone else.”

“No.” Webby shook her head. “He was talking about you. He said you saved him when you didn’t have to.”

Goldie rolled her eyes. “Not wanting to watch a child die isn’t the emotional triumph he thinks it is.”

Webby looked down the hallway and then back at Goldie. “Maybe not. But it shows you care.”

“If you say so.”

“And you care about Uncle Scrooge.”

Goldie simply hummed as a response - she looked at the feathers at the tips of her fingers and played with them a bit.

Webby felt awkward for a moment and tapped her hands against her legs. Goldie could tell this line of seemingly unrelated statements was leading up to some sort of personal question, and she was not excited for it.

“...how do you know when you’re in love with someone?”

That wasn’t the question she’d anticipated. Something personal, sure, but not like that. Goldie looked back at the preteen with a raised eyebrow. “What makes you think I’ve been in love?”

Webby looked like she was about to laugh. After a pause, her smile faded to pure confusion. “Wait, are you serious?”

Goldie just frowned.

“Okay…” Webby turned away from Goldie’s eyes uncomfortably. “...have you ever had a crush on a girl?”

A single, surprised blink. “Ah...when I was younger, sure. I’m a bit too old for crushes nowadays.”

“So how did you know?”

Goldie exhaled loudly and adjusted her sitting position again, lifting her butt up to sit on the top stair with the tiny duck. “What are you really asking me, Kid? You think you’re in love with one of your friends?”

Webby looked down at her knees with a bright blush on her face. “I...yeah. Maybe.”

This wasn’t a conversation she was prepped to have. She could give advice on fighting, on pilfering, on adventuring, on gently teasing while casually avoiding real feelings getting in the way. But...there was something about this kid that struck a chord. Maybe it was her tenacity or the way she didn’t take any of Goldie’s crap the last time they’d met. Maybe Goldie just really was going soft.

“...what do you feel when you’re around her?”

Webby let out a short laugh. “Oh...I don’t know...happy?” She started playing with the ends of her hair. “My chest gets warm and I wanna support her in everything she does and I just wanna hug her all the time!”

Goldie ran her fingers through her ponytail. “Alright. Do you want to kiss her?”

“Um-!” Webby’s face turned somehow even redder. “I don’t know. I think I do.”

“I’d say that’s pretty definitive,” Goldie shrugged. “Kissing and love usually go together.”

“Usually,” Webby repeated. “But not always? Or always except for when it’s you and Uncle Scrooge?”

Goldie scoffed and adjusted her position again so she was leaning against the wall and staring directly at the talkative little girl. “You’re very nosy.”

“I just like to have my facts straight.”

“I’m sure you do.” Another eye roll. “Any chance you know where he is?”

Webby didn’t react to the change in topic. “Nope! But speaking of Uncle Scrooge…”

“As everyone is doing.”

“...I have some questions for you!” A notebook was pulled out of who-knows-where and Webby pointed to the first sentence at the top. “What brought you to Dawson? How did you and Uncle Scrooge meet? Did you really poison him? Why did you go to his claim? He’s written down the details before, but scribbled them all out or ripped up the pages.”

“Nope, nope,” Goldie stood up - her bones creaking a bit as she did. “We’re not doing this.”

“But I didn’t get to ask you before!” Webby waved her notebook around. “I have so many questions! Do you still own the saloon? I heard it’s a hotel now!!”

Goldie jumped past the girl and rushed off in another direction. If Scrooge didn’t answer these questions, it definitely wasn’t her place to answer them. Especially not questions about...that particular time. And she certainly wasn’t going to answer questions about her current life.

She saw an unfamiliar door and quickly popped it open before Webby could follow after her. Running away from a small child? Yeah, that’s just where her day was at. It wasn’t a problem. Scrooge should thank her for it, though. Spilling his secrets to his ward would’ve been a fun way to ruin his reputation. She quietly closed the door in front of her.

“Oooh! Now here’s a surprise guest, everyone!”

Shocked by the sound, Goldie turned around to find the blue triplet sitting at a talk show desk while some balloons with drawn-on faces were strapped to the chair next to him. She didn’t have any idea how to react to the scene in front of her.

“What the h…”

“Glittering Goldie O’Gilt!!” Dewey got up from his desk and pressed a sound effect button behind his back, mimicking the sound of a large audience clapping. He motioned for Goldie to walk up to him and for reasons unknown, she did exactly that.

Dewey shook her hand excitedly and led her towards the seat - tearing the balloon people off and ignoring them as they floated off to the ceiling. She sat down and didn’t say anything as he danced his way back to his own seat behind the desk.

“So, Glittering Goldie - is it alright if I call you that?”

“No -”

“What brings you to our humble studio today?”

She looked around. “What is this? A fake talk show? Is this what kids do nowadays instead of playing outside?”

Dewey laughed and looked straight at the camera, making an exaggerated shrugging motion and shaking his head slowly. “And they say old people can’t be funny!”

“Hey-!”

“So is it true you’re like a million years old?” Dewey asked, clasping his hands in front of him and leaning over the desk eagerly.

Goldie was thrown off by the speed of which topics changed and the fact that he didn’t seem to be even the least bit intimidated by her. “No.”

Dewey looked at the camera, wiggled his eyebrows, then looked back at Goldie. “So how old are you, then?”

“Didn’t anyone teach you not to ask a lady that?” Goldie crossed her arms over her chest.

“Oh, they absolutely did,” Dewey said with a big smile. “But our audience wants to knooow!”

“...audience?” Goldie squinted at the cameras. “Don’t tell me people are actually watching this.”

He jumped up on the desk. “You know it! My fans are plentiful and thirsty for knowledge! So let’s Dew this surprise interview!!”

She stood up out of the chair and shoved the nearest camera so it was angling away from her. “Nope.”

“Oh, c’mon! I haven’t had a real interview in forever!” Dewey stomped his foot on the desk. “And you’re so mysterious!”

“It’ll only stay that way if I stay off camera.” She put a hand on her hip and glared at him. “I’m not like Scrooge. I don’t feel the need to brag about how long I’ve been around.”

“But weren’t you, like, a showgirl or something? Back in prospector times?” Dewey flung his hands around in the air, hoping one of the cameras was still on them.

“What?”

“Y’know...big stage! Bright lights! Skimpy sparkly outfits!” He posed for dramatic effect. “That’s what Uncle Scrooge said, anyway.”

Goldie tapped one foot repeatedly as she considered how to respond without sounding too angry. “He is an aggravating man. I was the proprietor of the most successful saloon Dawson has ever seen!”

Dewey smiled brightly, feeling a little bit like Louie in that moment. He was sure Scrooge could handle being thrown under the bus. “Oh? So you didn’t dance?��

“Of course I danced,” she said while pointing an angry finger in his chest. “I did everything! I danced, I sang, I bartended, I did whatever needed to get done. Scrooge loves to act like all I did was swing my hips and drug handsy sourdoughs when he - !!! ”

She froze at the embarrassing realization that this kid had gotten her to say a lot more than she’d planned to.

“...when he what?” Dewey asked, genuinely interested and also hoping his viewership would go up thanks to the unbridled tension.

“When he...nothing.” Goldie threw her hands up in the air. “Where is he, anyway? I’ve run into everyone else in this stupid house, but have yet to see the actual reason I’m here.”

Dewey shrugged and turned around, attempting a cartwheel from the desk back to his chair. He fell with a loud clatter and held a hand up to stop Goldie from helping him as he climbed back to a seated position (she wasn’t going to help him anyway, but the gesture added to the drama of the scene). He smiled at his camera again before turning to face the blonde. “Came here to see Uncle Scrooge, eh? You guys have a smooch session planned?” He laughed and finger gunned at the camera. “That is so gross!”

“Nothing’s planned,” she answered with a smirk. “But who knows where the night will go?”

“Oh, wait, what? EW!” Dewey scowled and ran his hands down his face. “That was supposed to be a joke and you just RUINED it!! Ewww, I don’t know where he is!! Just leave! Ewwwwww!!! Nooo! What?!”

She chuckled and headed out the door she came in through, happy to see that Webby hadn’t followed. Frustrating as Scrooge’s little disappearing act was, mentally torturing a child with the reminder that his ancient Uncle had a love life was always fun.

[cloversweets]

How about some fluffy pouty Raihan because his s/o is spoiling the heck out of his flygon with attention and he wants in one the attention and affection I hope you’re having a lovely day 🌼

thank you my luv! this was such a cute request huhu

raspberries

Raihan sighs, hearing you giggle from the other room. If you had such a soft spot for dragons, though, then why was he - the greatest dragon trainer in Galar - being ignored for one of his own Pokemon? Well, it just wouldn’t do.

pairing: reader x raihan

genre: fluff

notes: read on ao3!

This has been going on for hours.

At first, it was cute. Of course it was! What other gym leader would have the privilege of watching their Champion fuss and coo over one of their most prized Pokemon, right? Plus, it was evident from the start of the two of you getting to know each other that you had taken a liking to Raihan’s Flygon. You still maintained it was just because his Flygon was cute (which was true, of course) but Raihan suspects it’s because he’d given you a few eggs he’d found lying around, and you’re now busy raising your own little Goomy and Applin. Ultimately, even though you wouldn’t admit it, you were definitely developing a soft spot for dragons.

Raihan sighs, hearing you giggle from the other room. If you had such a soft spot for dragons, though, then why was he - the greatest dragon trainer in Galar - being ignored for one of his own Pokemon? Well, it just wouldn’t do.

Dramatically, Raihan heaves himself up from his living room sofa and treads carefully to the bedroom. He takes it slow, stepping quietly, not wanting either you or Flygon to know that he’s there - and as he peeks around the door frame, he can’t help but do a double take.

You and Flygon are lounging around on the messy bed together, and Flygon is sprawled out so lazily he looks more like a plushy than a 100lb dragon-type. You’ve got your head on Flygon’s soft underbelly, blowing gentle raspberries and giggling as Flygon playfully chirps and wriggles as you tickle him. Raihan watches in near disbelief; he’s pretty sure if he attempted that, Flygon would smack him so hard with a hind leg that Raihan would be seeing stars.

Raihan can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face as he watches the two of you, though. You’re so gentle with Flygon, even while playing with him like you’d play with an especially boisterous Yamper and giggling as he kicks his back legs and playfully bites at your arms. Flygon clearly loves the attention, and you love giving it to him.

Oh, wait. Raihan is supposed to be jealous.

Resolving to keep a smile off his face no matter how cute the two of you are, Raihan huffs a sigh and walks into the room. (And no, he’s not stomping his feet, he’s just… stepping heavily.)

You and Flygon both jump in surprise at the sound, and Flygon lets out a dramatic little chirp, his wings flapping in displeasure at being spooked. You turn around from where you’re still hunched over Flygon, your hands petting him distractedly. Your face lights up as soon as you spot Raihan, and Raihan almost smiles back before he remembers he’s not supposed to.

“So you’ve decided to finally pay us a visit, hm?” You ask, and Raihan watches as you blow, trying uselessly to move a hair out of your face. You’re disheveled in the cutest way, with your t-shirt rumpled and your comfy joggers low on the waist. Wait, that’s not even your shirt.

“You’re wearing my clothes,” Raihan says, raising an eyebrow. You shrug, your smile turning a little bit coy.

“They’re comfier than mine.”

Raihan sighs out a little ‘hmph’, moving to stand at the foot of the bed. You peer up at him unabashedly, completely unphased by his stony face. Well, it’s more of a pout, but he’s trying. “And who said you could wear my shirt, huh?”

You giggle at this. “Oh, so now I have to ask to wear my boyfriend’s clothes?”

Raihan sniffs haughtily. “I mean, if you’re going to ignore him all day, it’s the least you can do.”

There’s a long, heavy pause in the room after Raihan speaks. It’s long enough that he starts to panic a little in case he’s upset you, shifting from one foot to the other, and the weight of your gaze makes his cheeks flush hot. It’s so quiet he can even hear the ticking of a click from another room. It’s painful, and just as he’s about to say something, anything, to try and break this weird, tense silence, you break into a cackle that makes both him and Flygon startle.

“Don’t - don’t tell me you’re jealous of your own Pokemon, Rai!” you snort, covering your mouth with your hands as your head tilts back, shoulders shaking with laughter. Raihan can tell you’re trying to string a sentence together, but your loud laughter overtakes any of your attempts to actually speak.

Raihan flounders, spluttering a few disagreements before he can actually speak. “I’m not!” he argues, but out of the corner of his eye, he can even see Flygon managing a toothy little smile, his wings humming quietly as they start to flutter. “And you!” Raihan exclaims, pointing a finger at the Flygon in question. For what it’s worth, Flygon at least attempts to look surprised, chittering back at Raihan. “If I tried to blow on your stomach, you’d kick me into a coma!”

This just makes you splutter louder, and when you finally manage to speak, you’re toeing the line of unintelligible. “Were you watching us this whole time, you weirdo?”

“Maybe!” Raihan retorts, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. “I could hear you from the living room! Where I was sitting all alone!”

It takes a long moment but you eventually manage to stop your peals of laughter until it’s nothing but a giggle every now and then. You pull yourself up the bed, closer to Raihan, and look up at him with your bright smile. You’re cute.

“Oh, love,” you say, your voice gentler now you’ve calmed down. “If you were jealous, you only had to come and tell us.”

Raihan shrugs. “I guess.” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he flounders a little. “I didn’t want to interrupt, though.”

“Flygon is your Pokemon, silly,” you implore, and you reach out a hand, tangling your fingers with his and pulling his arms away from his chest. He moves easily, and when you tug him towards sitting on the bed with you, he can’t resist but flopping down obediently. “And yeah, he might kick you in the head, but I’d be here to kiss it better.”

Raihan can feel his cheeks burning hotter. “It could be life-threatening,” he counters, not ready to give up the sulky act yet, but Flygon lets out an affronted noise and steps off the bed, the mattress bouncing back into place as soon as his heavy weight is gone. A moment later and Flygon is pushing his way into Raihan’s space, pressing his little snout into Raihan’s hands in a way that is obviously demanding pets.

“Well,” you giggle. “I don’t suppose Flygon agrees.”

Raihan huffs out a sigh, and begins to let the tension ease from his shoulders. It helps that you’ve draped yourself over his back, pressing a kiss into his cheek. “I’m sorry. I was just-”

“Jealous, we know,” you quip, but there’s no malice in your voice. You’re still giggling at him, in fact, and Raihan finally lets himself give you a cheeky grin. “But you don’t need to be.”

Raihan nods, tilting his head to peck you on the nose. “I know.” There’s a moment of silence as you watch Raihan scritch at Flygon’s snout and under his chin, the tip of Flygon’s tail twitching as he enjoys the attention.

“I can’t believe Mr. ‘Voted Most Attractive Gym Leader For Four Years Straight’ got jealous, though.” you say, and Raihan can hear the teasing smile in your voice. “You weren’t even this jealous when I was in that fancy magazine and they didn’t invite you to be in the shoot with me.” Raihan rolls his eyes at that, because it’s obviously different. You don’t react, so he does it again. You tut, tapping him on the side of the head. “Stop rolling your eyes! I saw it the first time you did it!”

“I wasn’t jealous then because I knew nobody was gonna steal your attention,” Raihan counters. “Plus, I know you weren’t blowing raspberries on any of their bellies.”

As soon as he hears your scheming laughter, Raihan knows he’s in trouble.

You’ve shifted and pulled him down onto the bed before he can even try to get away, and his shirt is pulled up to his chest before he can even fully register what’s going on. With an appreciative glance at his toned abdomen and a moment of eye contact (where you make sure to emphatically mouth the word ‘nice’), it’s only a second before you’re planting your lips on his stomach and blowing a big, fat raspberry, hard enough that he can still hear the noise of it over the sound of his embarrassingly loud yelp.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Eighteen

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

June 5th, 1985

“Now come on, Emile, the polite thing to do is to apologize,” his mom coaxed.

Emile stared up at her with a stubborn frown. “He shoved me first!” he said, accusing the boy standing in front of him, his own mother behind him.

“But shoving back is not the answer,” his mother reminded. “Apologize, please.”

Emile sighed but turned to the boy. “Sorry,” he sullenly muttered.

The boy didn’t say anything until his mother nudged him and he said the same. They both walked back to the playground they had been on and looked at each other. “Can we agree that apologizing is dumb and just play tag or something?” the boy asked.

Emile nodded. “Works for me. Saying sorry is only for when you really mean it, anyway.”

  January 7th, 2001

Emile couldn’t deny that things were awkward after Remy’s latest therapy session. He wasn’t proud of it, but he had been trying to avoid Remy the past couple of days so that they didn’t wind up in an argument, or worse, a screaming match.

Of course, things couldn’t stay like this forever, with Emile avoiding Remy and Remy just in general being very quiet and walking on eggshells. It was like he was expecting to be hurt, and it made Emile’s blood boil. So on a day where both of them were exhausted from long shifts, and Emile was stressing over his homework, and Remy was worrying about how much food they had in the refrigerator, Emile slammed a door, Remy jumped a foot and immediately snapped back a, “Hey!” and the dialogue began. “You can’t just slam anything you want when you’re angry, Emile! You know I don’t like loud noises!”

“Yeah, and you’ve never told me why, which leads me to a few unsavory ideas, which is what’s making me angry in the first place!” Emile snapped.

Remy growled. “We’re low on food and we barely have enough money for rent, and you’re angry about something that happened years ago?!”

Emile stilled. “So it did happen?”

“Yeah! My mother had a bad habit of getting angry and slamming doors and yelling! Sometimes at other people, mostly just in general! She’d mock whatever anyone said that set her off, and she’d stomp around like she was out for blood!” Remy’s breath heaved in his chest. “She demanded respect, and perfection, and when she didn’t get it, she’d get angry! That’s normal!”

“That’s not normal, that’s horrifying!” Emile exclaimed. “You’re acting like a living breathing doormat when it comes to your parents! You deserve respect!”

“No I don’t!” Remy said, tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t even hold his scowl in place. “What kind of brat who can’t even be thankful for what his parents did to him deserves respect?!”

It was then that Emile realized he had miscalculated. Remy would talk big and pretend that nothing bothered him, but underneath that, he was still a person who can and did get hurt. And this was clearly a touchy subject. “Everyone deserves respect, Rem. Everyone deserves to be loved unconditionally. And not just from one or two people, either. Everyone deserves respect from everyone else. While they may not be loved by everyone, most people are loved by several other people, in one way or another.” His voice was measured, trying to avoid shouting, and he just hoped that Remy wouldn’t interpret that as anger at him. Emile tilted his head to the side. “Mind explaining why you don’t agree?”

“I...I don’t...” Remy stammered. “I...my parents...my parents don’t have to respect me. I have to respect them. That’s how that works. Respect doesn’t have to be a two-way street.”

“Yes it does,” Emile said firmly. “Remy, everyone, no matter how big or small, gay or straight, young or old deserves respect. Because they’re people. Living, breathing people with all their own experiences, their own emotions, their own opinions. They’re sentient beings. They deserve respect.”

“But...but then...then...why couldn’t...why couldn’t my parents...respect me? If you’re right, then that means my parents...my parents were wrong,” he whispered the last word, glancing around fearfully, and it broke Emile’s heart, dimming the fire that had been burning there not even minutes before. He needed to take the gentle approach, while still being straightforward.

“Yes, it does. Because they were,” Emile said firmly. “Listen, Rem. I’m sorry, but your parents weren’t good people. They treated you badly. They hurt you. If they don’t treat you with respect, then they aren’t respectable in my eyes. Full stop. Everyone deserves respect. Everyone deserves to be loved, and be taught to love, not to fear. Because that’s what they did to you, Rem. They taught you fear instead of love, and you’re paying the price for it.”

Remy’s eyes filled with more tears, as he said in a lost, broken voice, “They said they loved me...”

“Maybe they do. But they certainly don’t show it in acceptable ways,” Emile said, taking the few steps needed to cross the kitchen and wrapping his arms around Remy.

Remy hugged Emile back, sobbing into his shoulder, and Emile just hoped that whenever Remy calmed down, he would take what Emile said to heart, so they wouldn’t have to repeat this conversation over again. He hated when they went through the low in the cycle, where Remy was convinced his parents weren’t that bad, that he was overreacting and being a brat, that this, that, and the other thing were what Emile was wrong about when really, those were all signs that a family genuinely cared for you.

He wanted to destroy Remy’s parents, and maybe his grandparents as well, because clearly, they had to get it from somewhere. His siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins got a pass...for now, at least. Emile wouldn’t destroy Toby, ever, because Remy cared about him too much, and he didn’t know how the rest of his family reacted to Remy’s parents’ outrageous demands. But his parents could rot. And Emile knew that wasn’t productive, and Remy probably wouldn’t want to hear it at this point, so he kept that sentiment to himself.

After some time of them just hugging, Remy broke the hug apart, sniffling and looking away, crossing his arms. “Emile...I think my parents neglected me. Like, the actual legal definition.”

Emile felt the need to fight dim down into nothing, leaving only charred remains of the fire behind. “I know,” Emile said softly.

“You don’t,” Remy said, sniffling. “You have parents who genuinely love you and would never do anything to hurt you, even accidentally. You don’t know the half of what I’ve been through these nineteen miserable years.”

Emile winced. “No, I don’t. I said I know in reference to the fact that what they did was neglect. And emotional abuse.”

Remy sighed. He uncrossed his arms, letting them lay limp as his sides. “I’m tired, Emile. I’m so tired.”

“It’s okay to be tired,” Emile said, “So long as you don’t give up the fight entirely. Take a step back, regroup, and tackle this problem a different way.”

Remy laughed, voice still thick with tears. “Every day, you sound more and more like a shrink.”

Emile laughed with him. It felt like the sun was finally beginning to peek through the clouds. “Yeah, well. I suppose that’s a good thing, considering that I want to be a therapist, right?”

Remy rolled his eyes. “You may see it as a good thing, but I’m not so sure.”

“That’s okay,” Emile said, patting Remy’s arm. “So long as I know it’s a good thing, then you can think what you want. It’s my life, so my opinion is the one that matters most.”

Remy blinked. “See, I understand that in concept, but in practice...that’s never been the case. How does that work?”

Emile shrugged. “I’m not sure, it just...does? Like, I want to do something so I weigh the pros and cons, and if I think it’s a good idea, then I do it.”

“And you just...do it?” Remy asked. “There’s no...”

“No what?”

“No one saying it’s a bad idea, or forbidding you from doing it, or whatever?” Remy asked, waving his hands around.

“No. I mean, yeah, sometimes my friends call me a ‘grade-A dumbass’ but like...that’s just friends joking around together. It’s all in good fun, we’ve established it’s not said as an insult, and if I still want to do the thing, they won’t stop me,” Emile explained.

Remy frowned and shook his head. “That sounds...weird. Unnatural.”

“It’s called independence,” Emile said. “And not everyone gets the same amount of it. You’ve never had any and now, all of a sudden, you have all of it. No one can tell you what to do. If you wanted to you could up and quit your job. You could travel the country with nothing to your name but the van you’re using and an old worn-out guitar. And that’s probably...really overwhelming.”

“Yeah,” Remy admitted, running a hand down his face. “I never know if what I’m doing is the ‘right’ thing. Not in the sense of morals, but more in the sense of if I’m going in the direction I’m supposed to be going.”

Emile winced. That sounded particularly difficult, and he knew that a lot of adults struggled with that. “You don’t have to know that, not right away,” Emile said. “You might never know, and that’s okay. So long as you’re happy where you’re at, you have to be doing something right.”

Remy let out a breath and nodded. “I’m...I’m sorry for yelling earlier.”

“So am I,” Emile said. “And I’m sorry for slamming the door.”

Remy waved him off. “All things considered, it’s not the worst thing you could have done. And it got us talking again.”

“Still, I caused a flare-up in your trauma. That’s...really not cool,” Emile said.

Remy shrugged. “I won’t hold it against you,” he said.

“You’re being too kind,” Emile said.

“Nah,” Remy said. “If anyone else were to do that, I wouldn’t have forgiven them so easily. But this is you we’re talking about. You never hurt me on purpose, rarely do it on accident, and always apologize if you do.”

Emile blinked. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Obviously, he didn’t want to hurt Remy, because he didn’t want to hurt anyone. But at the same time, Remy saw that as a big deal. And now Emile knew why, and it made his heart break more. “Of course,” Emile said. “That’s the right thing to do.”

Remy’s smile was a bit bitter. “You see, you say that, but not everyone agrees. That’s why you’re so important, Emile. Because you see those things that might hurt me as things that might hurt me. And rather than taking your chances, you avoid them. You’re...you’re important. To me.”

Wow. “You’re...putting a lot of faith in me,” Emile said.

Remy shrugged. “I like to think that you would have the same faith in me. If not now, then one day. When I know what I’m doing when it comes to making friends, and being a normal human being.”

“Rem, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years,” Emile said, giving his friend a small grin. “It’s that there’s no such thing as a ‘normal human being.’ No need to strive for something that doesn’t exist.”

“What should I strive for instead, then?” Remy asked.

Emile shrugged, looking around. “Why not being happy where you are? Being happy with who you are? Just...loving the moment. That’s always been my goal in the past, and I think it worked out well for me.”

“You think so?” Remy asked.

“Yeah, I do. I mean, I’m happy to be here with you, and studying all the while to follow my dreams. It’s nice,” Emile said. “And while it’s not the perfect situation, and we definitely need to figure out where to cut back in expenses so we can afford more food, and maybe a chair or two, it’s nice. I’m not sure if there is such a thing as a ‘perfect situation’ in all honesty. So I just relax, remind myself of why I’m happy, and just like that, my mood improves, and I’m content.”

“Wow. You...clearly do not have that many mental health issues,” Remy laughed.

Emile shook his head. “You worry me, Rem. I’ve had my bad days, but it’s true that I haven’t struggled with depression, or PTSD, or anxiety to the degree you have. It’s still a therapeutic technique that helps, though. I’d recommend trying it.”

“Right, because that will solve all my problems,” Remy sighed.

“It’s not meant to solve all your problems.”

“I know it’s not, I’m just not looking forward to trying it,” Remy said. “But for you, I’ll give it a shot.”

[bensakindofmagic]

Chapter Twenty

A/N: yo. so I'm back at uni and work is a little hectic. sorry uploads haven't been as regular, but I'm still loving making these moodboards. keep requesting folks. much love

Warning: angst, swearing

w/c: 2.1k+

Chapter Twenty

You winced as you walked to the kitchen the next morning. Bruises had formed overnight and left your skin mottled, hickeys punctuating them with with red. You still bore Ben’s handprint like a stamp of ownership. It stung sharply as you sat down. 

“Morning my love,” Ben smiled, kissing you on the cheek. “How’re you doing?” 

“A little sore. Sitting is… challenging.” 

“Oh, but you took it so well, princess.”

“Be careful using that name,” you said darkly. It was reserved for very specific circumstances.

He smirked, then asked, “Can I get you an ice pack?”

You shook your head, “No, baby, I’m okay.”

He was particularly affectionate with you that morning, as he always was after nights like that. It was as though he felt he needed to make it up to you, despite the fact that you probably enjoyed it even more than he did. He kissed your forehead as he laid your breakfast in front of you, and stroked your thigh under the table as you ate. He glanced over at you often, and smiled warmly whenever you caught him looking.

“You look beautiful this morning,” he beamed. “Love looks good on you.”

A warm laugh burst out of you like birds from a cage, “That is the cheesiest thing you have ever said!”

You leaned across and wound your hand around the back of his neck, exploring the softness of his skin there. “But I do love you.” When your lips met it was like the setting sun on a summer day in London, golden rays illuminating the divine in what before seemed mundane.

“I love you too,” he cooed. 

He insisted you stay in for the morning, so you sat at the breakfast table for hours. It sometimes still felt like a novelty to be able to just sit with him and talk, not through a phone or a computer screen, not worrying about wifi signal or your responsibilities. Ben’s hand rested lazily on yours, his pinky finger occasionally stroking the back of your hand. Every time he did it you smiled.

You were only interrupted by the buzz of your phone in your pocket, indicating an email. You wouldn’t usually look at work stuff while your were hanging out with Ben, but your body went on auto-pilot as you unlocked your phone and opened the new email in your inbox. 

You froze.  

The job for which you’d speculatively applied months ago, with a big studio in an expensive new franchise, full in the expectation that you wouldn’t get it so had therefore completely forgotten about, had just been offered to you. You had to reread the email four times to make sure you hadn’t got it wrong, or that you weren’t dreaming — which still felt like a distinct possibility because when Ben spoke his voice sounded so distant from you. 

“Y/N? What is it?” 

“I’ve been offered a job,” you said more to yourself than to him. 

“Congratulations,” he smiled, squeezing your hand. “What for?”

“A new sci-fi franchise. It’s three films, back-to-back, with the possibility of promotion if they like me. The shoot starts in a month in LA.” Even saying it out loud didn’t make it seem more real. 

“Oh right. Wow,” he said, distinctly unenthusiastically. Slowly, he retracted his hand, instead clasping it in the other on his lap. 

“This is insane,” you laughed. “I applied for this on a whim, I never actually thought I’d get it.”

“Are you going to take it?” There was a bitterness in his voice that brought you back to yourself.

“I’ve only just got the offer through Ben, I don’t know.” 

“But you want to, right?” 

“Of course I want to. It’s an incredible opportunity for me.” 

He huffed and stood, turning his back on you.

“Opportunity to do what? What are you looking for Y/N?” 

The question stunned you, you had not anticipated his anger. He was supposed to be excited for you, but when he faced you there was fury in his eyes.

“You’ll spend probably three years in LA to become what, second AD? First? That’s the height of your ambition?” 

“No Ben, but this is a huge step—”

“Step towards what goal? Where does you career end? You’re not trying to become a producer, so what?” he spat, venom in his voice.

“I knew you felt weird about that! I knew you didn’t get it.” 

“No I don’t get it. I don’t get why you’re actively wasting your time.”

You gawked at him, your anger overtaking your hurt, “So you think my job is a waste of time, do you?” 

He started to refute you but rage was already hissing in your throat. “Don’t go getting all ‘holier than thou’ on me, Ben,” you rambled. “Just because I’m behind the camera, doesn’t mean what I do is less valuable. I like being a PA, I enjoy my job. And I’m good at it. I like the rush, the variation, I like problem solving. I like working with creative people, even if some of them are pretentious arseholes,” you shot pointedly. “Don’t be so naïve as to presume we all need exceptional success to validate us.”

He rolled his eyes dismissively, “You know that’s not what I meant.” 

“Then what did you mean?”

He huffed loudly, and gesticulated, “My career is here, Y/N, in London.” 

“You’re about to go away for five months.” Your temper was starting to bubble like acid.

“That’s hardly three years!”

Barbed words scratched harshly through your throat, “And what exactly makes your career so much more important than mine?”

“What makes your career more important than me?!” he yelled. 

You raised your voice to meet his, stomping your foot at the tears threatening to fall, “This isn’t about you.” 

“It’s about us,” his voice cracked. He went ominously quiet and all you could hear was your heart thundering in your chest. “You expect us to last if you move to LA for three years?”

“Don’t you dare,” you whispered, tears now spilling uncontrollably down your cheeks, “Don’t you dare ask me to choose.” 

“The choice is in front of you, I don’t need to ask,” he spat. With that he turned tail and stormed away. He grabbed a jacket and his keys and left you alone in the apartment that was once his. It wasn’t until you heard the slamming of the door that you shattered into pieces.

———

Who does he think he is? 

You made yourself a cup of tea with a heavy clatter of metal on porcelain on marble. You had been oscillating between rage and heartbreak all day, with a barrage of tears accompanying you through it all. As the sun sank lower into the sky your mind rampaged: you couldn’t believe Ben had been so selfish, you couldn’t believe he hadn’t supported you, been excited for you. The fact that you had even been offered the job was a huge achievement but he hadn’t cared at all, much less encouraged you in it. He didn’t even entertain the idea of you going, and him possibly going with you — he could easily get work in the US, especially in LA, for a few years. Maybe he wouldn’t move permanently but he could go back and forth. You’d be long distance a lot of the time anyway, why did it matter if that was based in London or LA? But of course Ben had just fucked off and denied you any opportunity to even discuss the logistics. It was him or the job. No compromise. How could he even ask, when he knew what your answer would be? You had made it very clear from the start that you would never let a man hold you back in your career; it was the reason it had taken so long for you to tell him how you felt. He knew — he knew — what your job meant to you. Did he want you to leave him? Was he giving you an ultimatum because he knew you wouldn’t pick him? As much as you wanted to pick him, as much as you loved him, you made a promise to yourself long ago that you would always choose your job. He was well aware of that. 

Of course he doesn’t want you to leave him, you’re being irrational, you thought to yourself, shaking the idea from your head. He loved you, there was no question. But he could bloody well come home and talk to me so I didn’t have to jump to conclusion, or at least answer the phone.

You had called him eight times throughout the day, and been consistently ignored.

The afternoon had well set in by the time you heard keys rattle in the door. You stayed sat at the kitchen table, staring firmly at the wall, until Ben rounded the corner and sat down opposite you. 

“So you’ve deigned to come home?” you said bitterly. 

Ben sighed, hanging his head, “Can we not do this please, Y/N?” 

“Not do what? Not mention the fact that: one, you were a selfish fuck about something great that’s happened for me, and two, you stormed out for literally HOURS and didn’t think to return my calls! I didn’t know what had happened to you, I had no idea if you were even coming home. At all.” 

“I’d never abandon you,” he refuted firmly. 

“Really?! Cause it felt an awful lot like you just did!”

You’d been determined not to cry in front of him, you wanted him to know how angry you were, but still tears clouded your vision and left tracks on your cheeks. 

“Look, can we have a rational discussion? I’ve been trying to clear my head all day — I didn’t want to come back until I could talk to you calmly.” 

With a face like thunder you spat, “I am perfectly capable of being rational and upset at the same time. Do not try and tell me I am being irrational for getting mad at you.” 

“No, of course not, that’s not wh—”

“I’m fuming Ben! And I have every right to be.” 

“I know. I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did and I should have told you where I was.” 

You stood in stunned silence, caught off-guard; you had geared yourself up for a screaming match, not an apology. 

“Right,” you grumbled. 

He rounded the table and came to sit beside you, taking your hand in his. There were grazes on his knuckles. 

“We need to work on communication, right?” 

You nodded. 

“So I’m asking you to listen to me.” 

“I can do that,” you whispered. 

“I lashed out because I was scared. The thought of you going to LA for three years fucking terrifies me and I don’t want you to go. But I didn’t know how to tell you that, knowing what your work means to you. I didn’t want to ask you to pick me. So I was angry with the situation and angry with myself for not knowing how to deal with it.”

He sighed, heaviness settling into his bones. He watched his fingers tracing shapes over the back of your hand. “I just don’t want to lose you.” 

“You should have been excited for me.” 

“I am,” he shrugged. 

You tilted his chin to make him look at you, “Don’t lie to me, Ben.” 

Melancholy-tinged green betrayed him. “I’m trying to be.” 

“What do you want me to tell you Ben? 

“That you won’t go.” 

You had been contemplating it while he’d been gone; whether to go or not. Of course you didn’t want to lose Ben, to leave him on the other side of the world. You’d already had a taste of long-distance and it was bitter on your tongue. But you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Sure, the big blockbuster thing wasn’t what you’d done before, or particularly what you wanted, but it gave you steady work for three years (in an industry where that was rare and precious) and possible promotions. Who knew where you’d be in three years? If you didn’t take the job not only would it feel like a betrayal of the person you had worked so hard to be, but you also knew that you’d forever wonder what might have been. And you’d likely resent Ben for not letting you find out. 

“You know I can’t do that.” 

He nodded, clearly not surprised but crushed none-the-less. Meekly, he asked, “So where does that leave us?” 

You gnawed at your lip. “I don’t know.” 

[razieltwelve]

Dragon Slayer (Rebirth)

Note: Rebirth is a Worm x Final Rose crossover in which Taylor is reborn and experiences an entire lifetime as one of Lightning and Fang’s children after being shoved into the locker. After eventually dying of old age, she awakens to find herself back in the locker. In her other life she was known as Atalanta. Taylor’s cape name is Huntress.

X     X     X

“Congratulations,” Miss Militia said. “I heard you brought in Lung earlier tonight.”

Something that was equal parts exasperation and annoyance flashed across Armsmaster’s face before his expression settled into a frown. “Technically, I did. However, the specifics leave something to be desired.”

“Oh?”

“I brought Lung in… after he had already been incapacitated.”

That… was not something Miss Militia had been informed about. “I see.”

Armsmaster sat down in front of a monitor and gestured for her to join him. He was not the most socially graceful person, but she’d known him for years. Social awkwardness aside, he was a good man and a reliable teammate. She’d trusted him with her life many times, and he’d yet to let her down. “I want you to review the footage with me. I will be going over it with the director later, but I would prefer a second opinion before I meet with her.”

“Of course.” It was no secret that Armsmaster and the director did not always get along, but they generally managed to put their differences aside for the good of the city. Still, Armsmaster wouldn’t be who he was without wanting to prepare as much as possible for the meeting. “Is there anything in particular you’d like me to focus on?”

“The footage we’re about to review was pulled from multiple street cameras and storefront surveillance cameras. What I’d like you to focus on is the cape fighting Lung. She only appeared relatively recently, and she has given her name as Huntress.”

“All right.” Miss Militia had heard of Huntress. She’d dealt with more than a dozen relatively minor crimes. From what the reports had said, she had incapacitated the criminals she’d target too quickly for them to react. That meant she was either skilled, experienced, or powerful, possibly all three.

As the footage began to play, Miss Militia was immediately struck by the ease and grace of Huntress as she arrived to intercept Lung. Her costume was mostly made up of blue armour with a strange symbol on the front and a mask that covered her entire face.

The armour was fairly light, including greaves, bracers, and the like. As far as she could tell it wasn’t power armour of anything of the sort, but Huntress’s movements were nevertheless completed unimpeded by it as she leapt off a rooftop and landed on the street below. Based on the height of the jump - three storeys - and how easily she landed, she would definitely qualify for some sort of brute and/or mover rating. 

Most people would have been trembling at the sight of a fifteen-foot-tall Lung stomping down the street, but Huntress held herself in a manner that screamed experience and professionalism. This was not some rookie cape getting her bearings. This was someone who was already well used to combat and life-or-death situations.

As Lung rumbled closer, the cape continued to simply watch him advance. At the last moment, when Lung lunged forward, Huntress finally moved. It was almost beautiful. Miss Militia had faced Lung before. It had been like fighting a force of nature. The raw heat, power, and rage he emanated were stifling. Yet huntress bobbed and weaved from the storm of blows he unleashed, seemingly unbothered by the heat, always one step ahead as attack after attack went wide.

She was testing him, Miss Militia thought. That was what it looked like. It was as though Huntress wanted to know just how fast and agile Lung was. A stray blow ripped a gash in the street, and Huntress flipped away and landed atop a street light, perfectly balanced on the length of metal. Lung responded by unleashing a blast of fire that melted the street light, but Huntress had already jumped away. Back on the street, the female cape lifted one hand… and then waved Lung forward.

The roar of rage Lung loosed shook the street, and he sprang, claws extended - only to go rocketing down the street like a silver meteor. He tumbled end over end, leaving a long stretch of burnt, ripped up concrete in his wake. Miss Militia’s eyes widened as Huntress slowly lowered the arm she’d used to punch Lung.

That was unexpected, a brute rating was definitely called for, possibly a striker rating too, depending on how exactly the attack had worked. It was difficult to be sure since the punch had been delivered too fast for any of the cameras to actually catch it on film.

Her lips firmed into a thin line. At the very least, Huntress would like qualify as a Brute/Mover/Thinker due to the way she’d handled herself in the battle so far. If she was a Striker as well…

The footage shifted to Lung. The punch had pulped his entire chest cavity. It was the most damage that Miss Militia had ever seen him take at this size. As Lung struggled to rise, what looked to be the pole of a parking sign speared through his throat and pinned him to the ground. He immediately went still, and Miss Militia turned to Armsmaster.

“Huntress got the pole by kicking it out of the ground before throwing it from a distance of roughly a hundred yards. The pole severed his spinal cord.”

Miss Militia frowned. A hundred yards? Given the size of Lung’s spinal cord, hitting it from that distance with a firearm would have been a difficult shot for most people. Of course, she could have done it with ease, but doing it with a makeshift spear that she’d never handled before? There was no way she’d be able to do it. She doubted even Armsmaster could do it with assistance from his armour’s systems. And the use of the pole was interesting as well. Lung might be able to regenerate from a severed spinal cord, but could he regenerate it if there was a pole stuck in the way? Moreover, with his spinal cord severed and his regeneration taxed by the damage to his chest, there was no way for him to move his limbs to remove the obstruction. 

“I arrived shortly after,” Armsmaster concluded. “But Huntress had already left the scene.” He stopped the footage. “What do you think of her?”

“Extremely skilled,” Miss Militia began. “She is definitely a brute of some kind, and I’d give her ratings as a mover and thinker as well. However, I strongly suspect that she had training and experience prior to getting her powers. It’s the way she carries herself, and the way she used the pole. She’s used to fighting, and I bet she has fought a regenerator before. I might give her a striker rating too. That punch she landed did way more damage than it should have even if she is a brute of some kind.”

“I mostly agree,” Armsmaster replied. “Especially with your thoughts on her experience. Until now, she has only dealt with low levels crimes, yet we have not had a single report of any serious injuries from people she has apprehended.”

“That speaks of great control… something you don’t find in new capes,” Miss Militia said. “And many of the injuries the criminals did sustain are consistent with techniques used by law enforcement to restrain and incapacitate people.”

“However, her fight against Lung suggests that she has the ability to seamlessly switch to a different mode of operation when necessary. It also shows how much she has been holding back.”

“Yes. If she hit a normal gang member with a punch like that, we’d be hard-pressed to scrape anything off the pavement.”

“I am going to recommend approaching her peacefully,” Armsmaster said. “She has demonstrated heroic behaviour so far, and the Protectorate could use someone competent and powerful.”

Miss Militia nodded. “We’ve got more than enough criminals to deal with as it is.” She grinned. “Will you be showing this to the Wards?”

“Yes. It might do them some good to see what proper technique and training can accomplish.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

This time around, Taylor has a big advantage. Not only is Aura absurd but she has also cut her teeth fighting a far, far, far more dangerous regenerator than Lung. I mean, yeah, Lung fought Leviathan for a while and came out mostly even before Kyushu sank, but Ragnarok is another kettle of fish.

Ragnarok would probably just eat Leviathan before complaining about the taste. 

Having access to both Diana and Fang (and later Victoria) means that Taylor knows exactly how to fight regenerators. Against Lung, she used Aura Surging to land a single massive strike that completely pulped his entire chest cavity. Even with his regeneration, that’s not something Lung can laugh off. Using the pole to sever his spinal cord while he was still incapacitated was a way to basically end the fight without having to kill him or escalate further, especially since she did know that Armsmaster was nearby.

Going by the power classification system, Taylor would be a Brute/Mover/Striker/Thinker. However, all of these powers are basically because of Aura. When her Semblance is active, she would gain a Master classification because she can create and control minions.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

You can find my original fiction on Amazon here.

[lady-charinette]

For the fics request... Can you write Kinabra with the prompt "Boyfriend"? Maybe with Fairy Tail finally learning who Kinanas boyfriend is?

Ever since the events of the big battle with Alvarez, Fairy Tail had taken a long, well deserved break. For the past year or so, the scattered members of the guild relocated to live back in Magnolia, living close to the decimated guildhall.

They'd been working slowly to build it back up, trying to salvage what they could of the shambles the battle had left it in.

Among the enthusiastic mages, Kinana and Mirajane handed out drinks as refreshments on the warm day, before resuming their own construction work on the support beams.

Mirajane glanced worriedly at the purple haired woman, a crease forming between her brows. "Kinana, won't you take a break? You've worked all day."

The novice take-over mage wiped the sweat from her forehead but a large smile stretched her lips, handing Jet another wooden beam produced by Laki. "I'm fine! Don't worry, everyone's been working so hard, so I will too!"

The concern remained on Fairy Tail's demon, but she didn't breach the subject again for a while. It had only been a second she'd turned around, bending to pick up more planks, when the accident had happened.

Kinana had lost her footing on a stray piece of wood on the ground behind her, losing her balance and hand reflexively grabbing onto the nearest object: a board.

A long board with a bucket full of sharp tools, which tilted and began raining down on her fallen form.

Guild members turned their heads but none of them could react fast enough. Natsu, Gray, Elfman and Droy had begun to run towards her but they wouldn't reach her in time.

The damage wouldn't have been severe but the shriek that left her lips was more from the shock of falling than the tools about to fall upon her, alongside the heavy wooden plank.

Mirajane's shout to Kinana cut off when a blur whirled past her and scooped the purple haired woman off the ground, right before the tools and wood fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Kinana found herself cradled in a warm, strong embrace, held closely to a solid chest.

Her eyes flew open and met black.

That scent-!

The voice-!

She would recognize it anywhere and when she finally lifted her head to look up at her savior, tears stung the corner of her eyes. "Erik!"

A haughty grin curled the roguish man's lips and he carefully set her on her feet, warm hand still steadying her back. He still kept close to her but was surprised when she fell back into his arms in a tight hug. He chuckled, gaze softening. "Hey."

"I-I didn't think you'd be back!" she rubbed her face into his chest, trying to memorize his scent so close to her, the voice, his voice whispering in her head like a low soothing lullaby.

A hand rested warmly on top of her head and a thumb wiped away her tears. "Well, looks like I can't leave you alone with danger all around you." he chuckled and nuzzled his forehead against her own, Kinana revelled in the affectionate attention.

"HEY!" the enraged shout caused the couple to whirl their heads towards the source of it, an angry pink-haired dragonslayer stomping his way towards them with smoking nostrils.

Natsu stopped just short of them, eyes catching sight of the hand curled protectively around Kinana's waist. "What are you doing out of prison?" green eyes narrowed suspiciously at the former criminal.

Erik's grin widened, amused at the dragonslayer's reaction. "To visit my girlfriend of course."

Silence settled heavily over the present guild members and Makarov slumped back in his wheelchair, the love drama unfolding too much for his heart that day. Erza fretted over him worriedly, but a light swat to his head by Porlyusica made him yelp in pain.

"G-GIRLFRIEND?!" It seemed the whole guild had shouted the words in unison, Kinana's red face buried into the former Oracion Seis member's side. "SINCE WHEN!?"

"Umm.." sensing his girlfriend's discomfort, Erik pulled her closer into his side, glaring venomously at the fire dragonslayer.

"Oi, get out of my face, you're making my girlfriend uncomfortable." Erik's pointed jab made flames burst from Natsu's mouth, who looked ready to brawl right then and there.

"N-Natsu, wait just a minute!" Lucy walked over and grabbed the man's shoulder, trying to calm him down. "Kinana, is that true?"

The woman nodded, grabbing her boyfriend's hand shyly. A very light blush flushed on the man's face and he tried playing it off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Kinana with him?"

"I never knew Kinana liked bad boys..."

"Bad boys? He used to be an enemy!"

"Yeah, but he's kind of hot..."

"They would look good together."

The thoughts of the various guild members filtering through his ears made the poison dragonslayer grimace, clicking his tongue and curling his arm around Kinana's waist, steering her away from the slack jawed Fairy Tail mages. "H-Hey!"

Natsu looked ready to argue, but surprisingly it was Gajeel of all people to stop him with a iron pole to the face. "Knock it off, fire breath!"

Erik glanced over his shoulder at the iron dragon slayer, catching the brief look of something in his red eyes.

It looked like sympathy.

No, maybe not sympathy, but an emotion that spoke of a familiarity, as if he had experienced that too.

Love.

Erik's gaze traveled to a pregnant-looking, small woman with blue hair who laughed at the iron dragon and a small knowing smirk stretched his lips.

So he did understand, after all.

Smiling at Kinana's stunned look, Erik lightly kissed her cheek. "Are you hungry? Want to grab some dinner?"

The look in her eyes spoke volumes and pride and affection swelled within his chest, emotions he thought he wouldnt experience ever again.

She leaned into his side comfortably, her smile contagious as his own one nearly split his face. "Mhm, I would love to, Erik!"

Dragon slayer and take-over mage walked away from the bunch of mages, a four way brawl between Natsu, Gajeel, Gray and Elfman already in the way.

"Love is manly!"

"Shut up! He's a jerk!"

"Who isn't a jerk to you Natsu?!"

"What did you say Gray?!"

"Oi! Get the hell away from Levy! She's pregnant you dumbass!"

As the customary fight ended with a not so gentle reprimand from Erza, destroying another barely standing construction, Makarov felt his soul leave his body at the thought of how much jewels they needed to cover all the expenses.

I'm sorry if its OOC! It's my first time writing Kinabra! ^_^ Hope you liked it!

[rocknrollsalad-moved]

Title: I Just Want to Save the Bees, Plant Trees, and Protect Our Seas Rating: General Audiences Pairing(s): none Warning(s)/Trigger(s): Nothing that I can think of (if I’m wrong please let me know) Summary: In something stolen and cobbled together from few comic moments I really, really loved and just whipping out my own take that isn’t interrupted by the baddie of the month, Bruce makes a thing that is meant to help the world and the other geniuses think he’s going to blow up the world. There’s a low, low, low key fight and a lot of inner monologue. 

This is definitely a more 616 thing than the mcu. Please take note of that.   Word Count: 1435

Intervention was a kind word. The room was filled with some of the brightest minds in the world as they claimed they were there for good. Each blessed with the luxury of being seen as a hero, a genius, a reliable person worthy of calling upon when people needed help. Yet they were nothing more than liars, wolves in sheep’s clothing the whole lot. More importantly, they were friends. 

Not at the moment, of course, as they surrounded Bruce. Cornering a man with an anger problem more well known than the scrawny scientist they were trying to talk to. Using phrases like “we’re here to help you” and “we only care about you” helped them see what they were doing as a noble gesture. Something born out of kindness for a man who was only their friend when he operated on their terms. 

Right now, he was NOT operating on their terms and that’s what prompted them all to gather, to hold this little business meeting. One to make them feel better and would please whomever they worked for. See, unlike them, Bruce was only a hero when they needed him and when he went where he was told. When the Hulk did something good he was a former avenger. When they hunted him and attacked him, pushing him to fight back, the Hulk was a monster who needed to be stopped at all costs. 

Something started extending to Bruce at some point, he wasn’t sure when it happened but they were wrong. Wrong on both accounts. But exceptionally wrong right now. As they barely managed to take turns in their lecturing, each vying for the most important man in the room, they did little but repeat this was dangerous. 

It was a project to help rid the oceans of trash. Hulk had been there, he’d swum through exactly what the dwindling wildlife was living in. Bruce and Hulk’s connections to Atlantis didn’t help. This was a bigger problem than those who stayed on the surface realized and Bruce wanted to fix it. Not for Namor though. Had he been able to find a way to relocate all the ocean’s waste directly into Namor’s stupid castle, Bruce would have. 

Since that wasn’t a possibility, not a sincere one, Bruce had engineered a device to take care of the problem. He’d fine-tuned blasts, one to warn the wildlife, the next to basically disintegrate the trash. It’d taken a long time to get it to where it took care of the majority of what was in the water and Bruce was proud that he’d got it figured out. Sure there were things that didn’t react but he couldn’t be blamed for the fact that the rest of humanity seen the oceans as nothing more than free real estate for their waste. Taking care of 84.76% of what was there was nothing to be sad about. Of course, that meant Bruce beat himself up for not getting it 100% right. 

What was Bruce’s undoing was the shape of his device. The shape and the fact that he used the word “blast” to talk about what it did. Everyone read that, they seen the pictures, and took into consideration the man building it and jumped right to this being a bomb. Not just any bomb, either, but one that would fail cataclysmically. What else was Bruce capable of, right? He was just the guy with bombs. If they’d let him get a word in he’d be able to run right down the list of errors each of the men before him had made. Many of which were worse than a big green sometimes hero. 

“Bruce, are you even listening?” Hank Pym asked with a hand on Bruce’s shoulder and that look of kindness he was so good at faking. I care about your well being, I’m here for you, but only because they don’t come after me the same way when I create far worse. 

“No,” Bruce answered honestly. Not sure he’d be allowed to say more. 

A guess that was correct as they all started voicing their disgust that he wasn’t paying attention to them. It’s so hard for them to stand being treated as less than important when each of them thinks they’re nobly saving the world right now. Not as hard as it is for Bruce to stand here and listen to this. 

Did they only fight to save the world when something was huge and leveling cities? The world needed more help than just fighting off alien invasions and the intelligence (and money) in this room could completely end some of the greatest issues. Instead, they were all fighting against an actual solution. 

“You’ve deemed this a threat before finding out about it.” The words flew from Bruce’s mouth, accusing everyone around him. Anger was reaching a boiling point but there wasn’t a threat of the situation getting green. No, this was all Bruce’s own anger and standing up for himself only made the Hulk proud. 

“We know exactly what you’ve been up to. Nothing is secret, Bruce. You know that.” Trying to project as the sage voice of wisdom, lounging against the wall, Tony Stark spoke up. 

Nothing Bruce could say in this moment was going to be able to counter that slick-talking Stark. Narrowing his eyes, Bruce growled. Of all the people in the room, Tony being part of the mob was the most frustrating. When they fought on the same side there was no end to the good they could do but when they didn’t agree, it could get deadly. They’d yet to learn balance. Which meant while Bruce didn’t feel it a good choice to get in T’Challa’s or Reed’s face and tell them what he was thinking, he had no problem marching right up to Tony, yelling and waving his finger. 

“If you knew what I was doing then you’d know it wasn’t anything to worry about! It’s a good thing,” Bruce stomped his foot. In any other situation, he’d let his eyes tinge green, his teeth show in a snarl, it was enough to intimidate most. Not Stark. “It’s to help you!” 

“It’s a bomb, Bruce,” Hank chimed in. 

“Without explosives! It’s not meant to harm anyone!” 

“Where have we heard that before?” Reed asked “

Tony stood up, talking his glasses out of his pocket and putting them on. He flung an arm around Bruce’s shoulder leaving Bruce to wonder when they’d all got so comfortable with him. Trying to pull away, Tony kept him close. 

“I’m trying to help ya here, Banner. I want to protect you but you aren’t making it easy. Bombs are the answer to a lot of problems but you and I both know the weapons game isn’t the path to take. Now what you got, it isn’t a bomb. I know that, you know that, pretty sure the rest of the guys do too but it looks like one and you can’t blame us for being a little worried.” 

“Of course I can. You wouldn’t have called this summit if McCoy or Parker had built this. If it’d come out of Wakanda all covered in vibraium they’d get a ticker-tape parade. Tony, you know what this can do and you know I’ve done it right.” 

“Richards is about done checking the math on that, can’t have you forgetting to carry the two now can we?” 

Bruce broke free, spinning around to find Reed going over his notes. Hunching his back, Bruce stormed over through that familiar feeling of his skin crawling, only it felt so much better knowing what was about to happen. None of that guilt and dread, it was pure exhilaration. It always was when the transformation happened on his terms, something no drug could touch. 

Reed stepped away as the rest of the room ready for a fight. “This will never work as it is, Bruce. Tony was right, the math wasn’t double-checked. There’s a fair amount of problems, I’d be happy to work through with you.” 

Dropping to one knee, Bruce hunched over. For a moment he tried to stop the Hulk from taking over before giving in completely. Soon the monster stood up with a roar to announce his presence. Not a body in the room flinched. Staring Reed down, panting breaths slowing to normal, Hulk let the tension build like a cat playing with its food. Rather than go in for the kill, though, he made a leap which brought him through the ceiling and far from the lab. Far from the puny scientists and their made-up problems. 

[marshmallow-phd]

Memories Past

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Kris x Reader

Summary: The last thing Kris wanted was to move on. He was perfectly content wallowing in his misery while pretending everything was okay. But when you come walking into his shop with a broken down car, he realizes the thing he’d been avoiding the most just might be the cure he always needed. He just couldn’t believe that it’d been you all along. Kris had been your best friend when you were kids before he’d moved away without a word of goodbye. Now nearly fifteen years later, you run into him again by pure coincidence. The memories come rushing back to you, stirring something inside. A childhood crush shouldn’t upend your picture perfect life, but sometimes, destiny has other things in mind…

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I Final

**

Kris was leaning up against his car waiting for you when you got out of class. At first, when you saw him, you tried to keep your walk at a normal pace, but the excitement couldn’t be held back anymore. Breaking out into a run, you practically jumped into his arms when you finally reached the car.

After giving you a deep, loving kiss, Kris pulled back and greeted, “Well, hello, there. Miss me?”

You shrugged, trying to play off your enthusiasm. “Just a little bit.”

“Let’s go,” Kris chuckled, opening the car door for you. You slid into the passenger’s seat and waited patiently for Kris to round the car and jump into the driver’s seat. All day you’d been eager to see him, to get alone time with him after having so many double dates and group outings with the other pack members.

Your stomach growled at you, making Kris laugh when the sound reached his ears.

“I’ll take you to dinner,” he promised. “I just have to stop by the shop real quick.”

“Weren’t you just there?” you asked with a frown.

Kris shook his head. “Nah, I left a few hours ago to go home and shower.”

“Which I very much appreciate,” you teased. Kris was much more attractive when he didn’t smell like motor oil.

While he looked like he really wanted to say something snarky back, he simply sighed. He intertwined your fingers before kissing the back of your hand.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence as he drove to the shop. You stayed behind in the car as Kris ran inside. Brian waved at you from under the hood of a Toyota before going back to working on the engine. You trailed your gaze to the sign above the garage, taking you back to that first night when the truck driver had brought you here.

The word “Lang” seemed so familiar to you and yet you couldn’t put your finger on it. It had nothing to do with Kris’ name, so how did you know it?

When Kris got back in the car, you turned to him and asked, “What does ‘Lang’ mean?”

“You don’t remember?” he laughed.

You shook your head. “No. That’s kind of why I’m asking.”

With a nostalgic look in his eye, Kris explained, “It means ‘wolf’ in mandarin.”

Oh. Oh.

Now you remembered. Kris’ mom would call him “xiao lang” all the time. “Little wolf”. You chuckled to yourself, thinking of the fact that the truth was in front of you all along. Memories of his mother’s voice cooing at him with those words echoed in your ears.

“I’ll take that look as you remembering now,” Kris chuckled.

“Yeah,” you sighed happily.

“Alright,” Kris put the car in drive and glanced over at you, “what do you want for dinner?”

**

You wished this bathroom was big enough to pace around so you wouldn’t be forced to just stand there and not stare as the timer ticked down on your phone.

For the past few weeks, your entire body had been completely off. A few times you’d woken up in the morning to run to the toilet and empty out your stomach. It wasn’t every day and afterwards you’d be just fine, able to go on without worrying about whether or not you were getting sick. By the time you were through your second class of the day, you’d nearly forgotten about it.

But it kept happening.

And then you realized you were late. Very late. According to your calendar, almost an entire month had gone by since your last period. The only reason you hadn’t noticed was because between class and spending time with Kris, your mind simply never drifted in that direction.

You had no idea what would happen if those two little lines showed up. How would Kris react? Would you have to put your master’s degree on pause? Would Kris be excited? Or would he freak out?

The timer on your phone began to yell at you, saying it was time. Taking a deep breath, you flipped that little plastic stick over. Still holding on to it, you crumbled down to the floor. With a thud, you leaned back against the wall.

Well, shit.

That was your first reaction. But then that initial shock and panic gave way to giddiness. Kids had always been in your future plans; the first one just came a little earlier than expected. And you’d seen Kris interact with children at the shop or when you were wandering downtown. He certainly had a way with them. You could only imagine how he would be with your own.

Pushing yourself up to your feet, you dropped the stick into the little plastic bag you’d grabbed earlier before stuffing it in your back pocket.

Slowly, you climbed up the stairs to the main floor of the farmhouse. Kris was in the living room playing video games with Baekhyun and Chanyeol on the main TV. His focus was on the big screen until you stepped into the room, then he looked to you, his wolf-mate senses tingling. Noticing the way you were chewing on your bottom lip and shifting from foot to foot, he stopped paying attention to the game.

“What is it?” he asked. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you replied a little too quickly. “Can I talk to you? In private?”

Kris glanced at the other two wolves who were still concentrated on the game. “There’s not really any such thing as privacy here, baobei.”

You huffed. “Okay, can we at least feign privacy? Please?”

“Yeah, of course.” Kris swiped the controllers from the other two wolves’ hands.

“Hey!” Baekhyun whined.

“Get out,” Kris ordered. “We can finish playing later.”

Grumbling back and forth, Baekhyun and Chanyeol shuffled out of the room. Kris patted the space next to him on the couch, but you continued to stand.

“What is it, baobei?” Kris frowned in concerned. Butterflies in your stomach went off whenever he called you that. It made you feel special as none of the other mates were called that pet name.

You took a deep breath, preparing for whatever reaction Kris might have. Finding the words to say it out loud was much harder than you’d expected.

“Kris,” you started, “you know how I haven’t been feeling well lately?”

He nodded. “Did you finally go to the doctor?”

“No, not yet.” Although, now you were going to have to go. For a very different reason. You opened your mouth to say it, but instead, out came, “Kris….”

Your handsome mate knit his eyebrows together. “(y/n), what is it?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Clank! Clankclankclank.

The controller fell from Kris’ hands, hitting the coffee table before dropping to the hardwood floor with a clatter.

“W-what?” he stuttered.

Pulling the plastic covered stick out of your back pocket, you handed it over to him. The mark on your neck that displayed to the world that you were Kris’ mate was barely healed and here you were, already carrying a tiny, bean-sized baby.

You handed the stick over to Kris, who stared at it opened mouthed. “You’re really pregnant.”

“SHE’S PREGNANT!”

“Damn it, Baekhyun!” Kris threw the stick down and started stomping towards the hallway. You caught him by the arm just in time.

“Kris, just let it go,” you urged. “They would find out soon, anyway.”

Turning back towards you, Kris stared down at your stomach, placing a shaky hand right over your belly button. He laughed, softly at first before growing in volume. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he picked you up and twirled you around as you squealed.

After putting you down, Kris kissed you deeply.

Footsteps alerted you to a new presence and as you pulled apart, Junmyeon stepped into the living room from the front parlor.

“Uh, what’s going on?” he asked, looking back and forth between you and Kris.

Before either of you could answer, more footsteps thundered in from the kitchen. Almost all the other wolves came tripping over each other into the living room.

“(y/n) has a bun in the oven!” Jongdae blurted out.

Junmyeon’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

You nodded bashfully.

Rubbing his face with his hand, Junmyeon groaned. “As if this house wasn’t crowded enough.”

Looking up at Kris, you felt a little guilty. It really was crowded in this house with so many bodies and now you were about to bring another one in. One that would take a lot of attention and time. But seeing that spark in Kris’ eye, that gleam of happiness and excitement for the future, all guilt melted away.

Who would have known that the little boy and girl that were attached at the hip would come to this point so many years later just to create a family of their own? It was the fairy tale ending to your beautiful little love story.