#i met so many kind people yet they are all different but regardless of that they are still kind to the bone :)

[bitterchocoo]

I Remember You

Wanderer | M. Reader as Ice King [Adventure Time]

[PLATONIC]

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"It's just you and me in the wreckage of the world."

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Ever since that day, he thought he'll be alone.. venturing through the dark and scary world. Did he do something wrong? Why was he abandoned like that? Why? Was it something he did?

Either way... there's nothing he could do.. now that he's all alone..

For days he ventured through the land. He found many people along the way. Friends. New friends. They were kind and lovely people, they're almost like.. family..

But all good things must come to an end... he was alone again...

Why...? Why does everyone he met end up leaving him? Is it because of him? Did he do something wrong? Did he unknowingly make them upset? Angry? No matter how he looks at it, no matter how much he tries to think of a reason, he can't find one. He couldn't understand why they would always leave him.

That is until... he met someone..

A man by the name, [Name] [L. Name].

He seems to be a traveler. One that's traveling the world in search of—something. The day he found him was the day the man saw him cry. God knows what went through his head, but [Name] tried to do everything within his power to stop his cries. He tried cracking some jokes, giving some sweets, etc. In the end, the man gave him a small doll.

And that finally made him stop crying.

Since then.. he would tag along with [Name] and his adventures.

.

.

.

.

.

The two spend what felt like an eternity together.

The man loved him like he was his own flesh and blood. He cared for him.... loved him... like a caring father.. and he was grateful. Never had he ever felt so loved and cared for by someone, especially a mortal like him.

The man would do anything within his power to ensure that he lives a happy and fulfilling life. Anything.

Even putting on that damn crown.

He knew the danger of it. Yet he uses it anyway. And no matter how much he begged and pleaded to [Name] not to use it, he still used it anyway. All for his sake. Maybe he was too protective.. maybe he was too carrying.. maybe he was too loving... maybe he was too... selfless...

He didn't listen. He never listened.

[Name] continues to put on the crown regardless of what he says. In his mind... he was just trying to protect this innocent child.

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When he became Wanderer it felt like a breath of fresh air. He could start a new.. this time.. he had Nahida and the Traveler by his side...

He could let go of the past and look forward to the future...

The day he received his first commission was the day where he's finally reunited with that man.

But...

What happened?

Why is his hair white? Why is he actually like that? Why is he wearing the crown 24/7?! What's going on?!

"...[Name]..?" He called out to the man, his voice filled with confusion.

"[Name]? What's that? Who's [Name]? I'm Ice King!"

Huh...? What did he just say..? Ice King...? Wh—Where is he? Where's [Name]? Where's the intelligent, caring, loving man he knew? Where's the man that cared and loved him as if he was his own? Where is he?

Where's [Name] [L. Name]?

"....The crown.."

"Yeah, pretty isn't it? But it's mine so you can't have it~!" He replied rather childishly.

Is he truly him? That man... that once carrying, intelligent man..

Reduced to a lunatic.

Him? A lunatic? A madman? A disturbance to the peace? No no no no no. NO! He refused! He refused to believe that!! He can't! There's no way in Teyvat is this man the same one he met years ago! This has to be a different person!!

There's no way the dignified, patient, caring, intelligent man had been reduced to his lunatic!

.....right..?

.

.

.

.

.

"Hey, Gunter! Look!" [Name] spoke up as he pointed to the scenery in front of them. The mountains, the water, the sky... it creates a beautiful view.. a sight for sore eyes.

Meanwhile the other doesn't seem as enthusiastic as him. He frowns at the man addressing him as "Gunter." He had lost it... using that curse thing over and over again... eating away at his sanity.. Until he can't even remember his name.

"Gunter, look!"

"Yeah... It's pretty..."

"What are we doing again?"

"Jogging your memory."

Maybe... if he could just... jog his memory... then [Name] could come back to him.. right..?

The two spent their time together, [Name] was enjoying the time of his life, he was very happy with the new turn of events. He never would have thought there was someone out there that's willing to go hangout with him! He actually had a friend!

But Wanderer... he doesn't share the enjoyment..

He wanted him so bad... He wanted [Name]... He wants his father figure back.. not this lunatic... Not Ice King, but [Name] [L. Name]. He tried and tried but it just... doesn't work.. every time he tries to do something with the Ice King, things that they used to do... he just.. doesn't get it.. he played it off like it's some kind of game...

It's frustrating!!

WHY!? Why can't he have him back?! Why can't he just... be happy?! Why can't he get the ending he wants?! Is this the Gods punishing him for what he had done?! By taking away what he had?! By taking away the only person he actually cared about?!

.

.

.

.

.

"You know today was fun!" The lunatic said with a cheeky grin on his face, ever so ignorant to Wanderer's frustration.

"Why? Why can't you just—!" He stops himself once his eyes fall to a photo. A specific photo of the past.

He immediately took it and started examining it before letting out a sigh of frustration and shoving the photo towards the other's face. "You don't remember anything do you! Look! This is you! Before the whole thing!"

Ice King took the photo and looked at it with a confused expression, clearly not understanding what Wanderer is trying to say which earned a frustrated groan in return. "You were a traveler—!"

"No, I'm a lyricist! Just look!" He pulled out a paper from his coat and handed it to Wanderer with the same cheeky grin. "I clearly wrote good lyrics!"

With a huff Wanderer snatched the paper in a swift motion, he was going to tear it to shreds before he realized something...

This is a photo.

Turning it around he was met by a photo of himself, back in the past... where ignorant.. is bliss...

Turning it back around, he began to read the words written on it. His eyes slowly widened as a hint of the truth finally showed up.

"Kabukimono, is it just you and me in the wreckage of the world. That must be so confusing for a little boy and I know you're going to need me here with you..

But I'm losing myself, and I'm afraid you're gonna lose me too. This magic keeps me alive, but it's making me crazy and I need to save you, but who's going to save me? I can feel myself slipping away... I can't remember what it made me say.... But I remember that I saw you frown...

I swear it wasn't me, it was the crown!

Please.... forgive me for whatever I do...

When I don't remember you...."

.

.

Why.... Why does it have to end this way..? Why can't he...

"Hey, you okay there, Gunter?" Ice King asked with a hint of concern in his voice. Wanderer looked at him for a moment but he could say anything... his throat closed up every time he was about to speak.. he couldn't breath and..

Is he crying....? Is he actually crying..?

Without warning... the other engulfed him in a hug, a warm, loving hug... He can't remember when's the last time someone hugged him like this... especially by him..

"There there, Gunter." Ice King tries to comfort him as he speaks in a soft tone.

Maybe...

Maybe the [Name] he knew is still there.. somewhere... But... it still doesn't change the fact that... he can't be [Name] again... Ice King can't be [Name] [L. Name] again... that man is long gone...

Wanderer can't help but let his tears fall as the realization hits him. He buried his head on the man's chest.

Maybe he could try loving this lunatic, insane man... like how he had loved [Name] [L. Name]... Maybe he could... try and make the best out of the worst scenario...

Make the best out of this bittersweet reunion.

"I love you... [Name]..... father..."

"Love you too, Gunter."

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 20: I speak in tongues

"I'm not like you, I speak in tongues. It's a different language to those of us, who’ve faced the storm against all odds and found the truth inside." -can u see me in the dark? by Halestorm, I Prevail

Regent Masterlist Part 19 AO3 Mundane Macabre (Main)

When Ellie first began traveling, she’d (rightfully) assumed that she would never stop being surprised by humankind. Humans are curious creatures, capable of both kindness and cruelty in equal measure. 

(The Fentons were prime examples of cruelty)

(Cruel towards the living, dead and those who lie in between.) 

(Their children suffered, maybe even more than the ghosts they tried to hunt) 

With time, Ellie had decided to create her alter ego of Wraith, the quiet being of shadows that was just eerie enough to pass as something other regardless of what form she was in. Wraith was Ellie’s favorite mask to slip on, to hide from the living world as she tried to help where she could. 

Ellie Nightingale was a nomadic medium with a preference for punk rock, bleached hair and her leather jacket. 

Wraith was the opposite in ways that mattered, was created to help with the violence the halfa was witness to, fists bruised and weapons bloody. 

Ellie was not. 

Perhaps she’d broken herself into too many pieces, too many identities, for a solid visage to form. Cracked like a mirror, dirty and covered in old marker messages from friends long gone. Messages she’d carry with her no matter what name she went by, or style of hair, leather jacket or denim- halfa or not. 

That’s what made her unique. 

(Clone.) 

(Failure.)

(Danielle.)

(Ellie.) 

(Wraith.) 

Vlad had been her origin story, her beginning, but he was no longer her master. Slave to no one, daughter of nobody. 

But she was a sister to good people. 

Sometimes Ellie caught herself thinking ‘what would Danny do?’ when confronted with an extraordinary problem, trying to channel his brilliance despite their distance. He might not consider himself very intelligent, but Danny was the cleverest (and kindest) person she’d ever met. He loved her, his clone made as a violation of his bodily autonomy and by his fruitloop of a godfather. 

(Superman had not treated his clone the same.) 

(She understood his feelings of violation) 

(Kon was a living being and needed support too.) 

However, Jazz was her idol. 

Many people would’ve written off the woman as a know-it-all golden child, but those in the inner circle knew the truth. Jazz was the first child of the Fentons, who had nobody but herself to teach or to guide her. When Danny was born, Jasmine devoted everything to caring for him, to raising him as their parents should’ve. 

(His first words, his first steps)

Jasmine Fenton was a woman who loved fiercely and so, so very deeply that she’s willing to sacrifice her own wellbeing to ensure the happiness of the ones lucky enough to be given her love. 

With the rise to Regency and the subsequent downfall of her progenitors, Jasmine Fenton was left to rot in the basement with Danny’s grave, just like the yellow flowers she so fondly left in memorial. 

(Ellie would forever grieve the loss of Jasmine Fenton, the mother she so desperately wanted.) 

Yet, the Lady Nightingale arose from the grave, ash and blood staining her name, a ghost in an inhuman shell, ready to remake the world should she have to burn it down. 

(Jazz carried so few regrets, but they weighed her down like anchors.) 

(One day they might drown her in the dark depths.) 

(Her template’s younger visage admist the spectral mist spoke volumes.) 

(Maybe one day the faces of the elder Fentons would fade away.)

(Ellie could only hope.) 

The Regent, despite having staked her territory in the Ridge alongside Phantom, was unofficially claimed as one of the Crime Alley’s own. Defending the working girls, helping kids with homework or getting them away from ner-do-wells, the Regent had not hesitated to reach out a helping hand even after being targeted by those who would break her will. 

Black Mask, for instance, had put a bounty on the woman’s head with an eagerness that disgusted many others. People knew what a man like him would do with powerful woman, what enjoyment he’d receive breaking her. 

It was also no secret how much the Mask wanted to get his hands on the Red Hood. 

The helmeted vigilante had been a frequent pain in the ass ever since his debut some years ago, destroying his black market operations and getting the Big Bat involved. Sionis wanted little more than to rip off the fucker’s head- helmet and all. 

However, Sionis had tried his hand at subtly for once- he’d hired freelance to take out Hood’s second-in-command while the guy had his guard down with his girlfriend, a pretty red-haired civilian Sionis wouldn’t mind a turn with. The idea was to throw Hood’s gang leadership into chaos so Black Mask’s men could sweep in. Jason Todd was high in the ranks that his death would do just that. 

Figures the guy would survive. 

Jason had been seen with his girlfriend in the Ridge only days after the failed assassination attempt, no worse for the wear. Red Hood had come sniffing around his operations, with Regent stalking his men and the Phantom destroying his latest shipment of merchandise. Though, with the under-the-table job he’d hired out for, Hood found nothing linking him to the attempt on his second-in-command. 

It was time to change tactics. 

The Regent was confirmed to be in a romantic relationship with Hood, if the various Gothamite twitter posts and the sub-reddit r/RedHoodRegent dedicated to commemorating their obvious status, was to be believed. 

There wasn’t many problems with targeting the older sword-wielding vigilante; unlike Robin, Regent didn’t have the Big Bat for backup, but did have the Phantom. The ghost-like meta (or actual ghost, Sionis wasn’t sure how much he believed the rumors) was the biggest obstacle between him and Regent. If Mask could distract (or get rid of) Phantom, then his men could sweep in and eliminate Regent when the vigilante inevitably falls to his numbers. Sure, Sionis was sure he would  lose quite a few men, but it's Gotham. The numbers can always be recouped later. 

Perhaps when Red Hood tries to save his girlfriend, Mask could finally get his hands on him. 

Two birds, one stone. 

Oh yes, Sionis liked this plan. 

He had some calls to make.

A/N: I'm back! This was supposed to be posted on my birthday back in August, but I wasn't in the best headspace for writing or even being on any social media. I have several pieces waiting in the wings to be finished and edited, but I'm back and ready to write again! (Famous last words.)

(To those who guessed Black Mask had something to do with the bomb, kudos.)

Also, for those who might be uncomforable with Sionis' thoughts about Jazz, just remember- he's a bad guy, deranged and over all not the kind of morally upstanding person you want in charge of anything. Things get really dark where it concerns Sionis and what he plans for the future. Just a warning, because those who've read my other works know my penchant for angst.

[analysisn3rd]

Holmes and Watson - why they mean so much to one another

The way I see it, Holmes and Watson are two halves of a whole. This is for many reasons.

First and foremost, they compliment one another personality wise. Where Holmes is seen as cold and calculating, Watson is depicted as warm and welcoming. Holmes can be rather impulsive at times, while Watson has a sort of steadiness and routine to his life, which makes him appreciate his adventures with Holmes further. They’re similar, yet they’re different. They’re both smart, though in different fields and manners, as Watson is more emotionally intelligent and Holmes is more intellectually intelligent. They’re both kind people, despite expressing their care for others and for one another in their own individual manner, where Watson’s way of showing care is more orthodox while Holmes is anything but. Not only do they mean so much to one another, but they also wouldn’t be alive without each other. 

Each of them needs the other to live, quite literally. 

Of course they would’ve made it if they hadn’t known each other; Holmes would’ve solved a few cases for the police here and there, and he would’ve taken cases from Mycroft, but he would’ve never make a name for himself further than that, since all his writings are very academic and that doesn’t really appeal to the people, and Watson would’ve run a surgery and worked as a doctor. Neither of them would’ve been the characters that we know and love now if they hadn’t met one another.

Additionally, I think that, given the circumstances that both of them were going through at the start of ‘Study of Scarlet’, I don’t think that they would’ve lived as long as they had without one another.

As we’ve seen in most of the Holmes short stories, Holmes doesn’t really care much about his physical, or mental, health. He brushes off injuries, even if they are a bit concerning, and although he would care were he to get severely injured during a case, he wouldn’t mind risking it if it meant finding the solution. He continuously endangers himself and the only person to take care of him afterwards is Watson. Without Watson, I think that it’s not unreasonable or illogical to assume that he would’ve died of some wound infection or an illness that he refused to get treated for.

Although it’s not well-discussed in the books, I would say that Watson definitely helped Holmes to stop his drug addiction and on his road to sobriety. He cares a lot about Holmes’ health and he would always be worried when he’s in one of his ‘dark moods’ that he’s on drugs.

Alongside that, he’s a lot happier with Watson. I don’t think he would’ve admitted to anyone (and I would say that the closest thing to admitting it was when he wrote about Watson leaving him for a wife in ‘The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier’ and how upset he was about that), but he’s always been rather lonely. Having Watson, a companion who tries to understand and help him as much as he could, someone who cares about him, someone who loves him (regardless of the type of love), has made him significantly happier. Watson means so much to him; he’s his ‘Boswell’ and he has refused, on several occasions, to help his clients if it meant that Watson wouldn’t be there (and then they’d relent and let them both handle the case). He's always there with Holmes and he's always there for him, he's his "one fixed point in a changing world" and Holmes would be absolutely distraught (as seen in 'The Adventure of the Three Garridebs', where Holmes was quite distressed about Watson getting hurt).

Furthermore, as I mentioned before, Holmes probably wouldn’t have had his ‘household name’ if it weren’t for Watson’s publications. The people (both fictional and real, but I’m talking about the fictional ones here) enjoyed reading about his adventures and it was through them that they got several clients, who were people that Holmes would’ve never reached if he was on his own.

Watson, on the other hand, desperately needed someone, anyone, to restore his love of life after he came back from Afghanistan. He came back a “broken man”, essentially. He hadn’t had any close friends, any relatives, anyone really, and he was completely and utterly alone in London. He needed someone to, for a lack of a better word, “cure” this loneliness that he’s faced after the war.  Holmes was that “cure”. He gave him a “purpose” in life; a “raison d’etre”. He allowed him to help people. He gave him the opportunity to go on adventures, do things that he would’ve possibly never imagined doing, and provided him with excitement, leading him to love life and living again. He helped Watson become who he really is, and not the shell of a human being that he (understandably) was after returning from the war.

They both complete one another, and they’re sort of two halves of a whole. If I were to be a bit poetic, I’d say that they’re the sun to one another’s moon. They both provide the other with light, in different manners, and they both conduct it to the other. They wouldn’t be who they are without one another, very simply. I think the best way to conclude this is to quote The Crane Wives’ ‘The Moon Will Sing’, “I shine only with the light you gave me” is a very accurate descriptor for Holmes’ and Watson’s relationship with one another.

[fastidious-and-a-mess]

guys can we PLEASE stop shipping riz w people. honestly at this point i kind of don’t even care if you yourself are also acespec/arospec/aspec.

yes, aspec people can be in relationships, etc etc, but riz specifically has expressed over and over and over again that that is something he personally has absolutely zero interest in.

he’s not just canonically aroace, he also canonically does not want a relationship.

“aroace people can be happy in romantic/sexual/queerplatonic relationships” is a true statement. “people who do not want to be in any kind of monogamous committed relationship can be happy in a monogamous committed relationship” is quite a bit harder to argue.

i’m just so sick of it. i’m glad we all understand that there’s nuance to aspec identities, and everyone’s expressions of and experiences with their own aspec identities are going to be different and personal.

like, it’s not even just about the asexual/aromantic aspect anymore. it’s also just refusing to let him not want to be in a relationship. why are so many people so resistant to the idea that he does not want to be in a relationship. like genuinely, why can you not accept that there are people who just don’t want that. who would just be unhappy in a relationship. why can’t you wrap your head around the idea that wanting a relationship is not a thing that everyone secretly wants. like, No, he hasn’t just not “met the right person” yet. because there is no right person. because he’s simply not interested.

this post is kind of rambly and not as effectively phrased as it could be i think but idc.

TL;DR: riz being aroace is not the only reason to not ship him. he also, explicitly and repeatedly, has stated he does not want to be in a relationship. “aspec people can be in relationships” is completely irrelevant because regardless riz simply does not want a relationship. please just respect thag.

edit: plz don’t like this is u wont rb. i won’t guilt you into rbing, it’s ur blog i’m not ur dad do what u want etc etc. it’s just irritating for me personally to see ppl interacting w this but not willing to actually put it on their blogs.

[bitchlessdino]

Vernon and The Beastly Heir (Tw: flashing banner)

Pairing: son of Gaston!Vernon x afab!reader

Genre: angst, fantasy au, smut

Word count: 9.5k

tags: features seokmin and chan, E2L, royal!reader, fairy tale academia (college), child of beauty and beast!reader, mentions of blood, mentions of weapons, aggressive!vernon, aggressive!reader, mentions of alcohol, strangulation, stalking, sub!vernon, hair pulling (reader giving), mommy kink (reader identifies as they/them but accepting), handjobs, choking, oral (reader rec.), spitting (vern receiving), cumplay, cum eating, unprotected sex, creampies

Summary: Everyone knows the story of beauty and the beast. Well, that was your parents and now you're attending college with the son of Gaston of all people. You're ready to start fresh with him but it seems like all he wants to do is kill you.

author note: here he is, just took me two? three weeks. i hope you guys enjoy. it's quite different from what i usually write and just hope it translates well. next off is a spinoff heheh

tag list: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han

You only knew about Vernon through his ancestry. His father tried to kill yours, but your father happened to be successful in killing his.

Vernon was born out of wedlock after the news of his father’s passing, and his mother would tell her son all kinds of disfigured tales of his father’s past. She called him the most handsome of all the land, the strongest, most beloved. He was a true man’s man. She was always so hopelessly in love with him. Many women were, unlike your mother, who was the one that was actually the so-called apple of his eye.

Your mother was almost forced to marry his father when he threatened your grandfather’s life. He would use him as leverage, keeping her within reach until she eventually met your father in his most hideous form. Despite appearances and circumstances, your father became her savior.

Vernon’s father, Gaston, would not dare dream of a world where your mother had fallen for anyone else, let alone such a ‘hairy grotesque and daunting being’.

Alas, that’s exactly what happened and Gaston was so far deep in his narcissism that he couldn’t see the truth in front of him. Perhaps he couldn't see he was claiming a woman that wanted nothing to do with because he gallivanted around town to trap other women with his charisma. They all worshiped at his feet, how would your mother be any different? Countless lovers, far and wide, Vernon’s mother being one of them. Time would tell soon enough came after their night together, following Vernon’s birth–fatherless and supportless–and eventually Gaston’s downfall. 

A bastard.

Gaston underestimated your father and paid the ultimate price, falling into an abyss, and meeting the thick shards of rock waiting for him below. 

As a child, you found this story difficult to grasp, as death was still a foreign concept. Now hearing about it from time to time, it became only a piece of history. A remarkably relatable piece of history.

Regardless, you hadn’t been born then, and neither had he. You were strangers. You shouldn’t have had a problem with each other. 

Yet, he glared at you the moment you took your first steps into university together. You recognized him since he and his father were almost duplicates of one another. He had his father's devilishly good looks, broad build, and effortless smolder that had people weak at their knees. He was just as beautiful as everyone said. However, his glare burned through you like a rising phoenix, shooting through your body in a blazing heat every time you were in the same room. Did he despise you as much as he looked like he did?

You confirmed your assumptions in your swordsman’s class. You always admired the strength of a sword welder. You practiced it on your own in secret back at home, confident in your skill. But by the looks of it, Vernon had a similar sentiment, performing tremendously with the weapon in his hand.

It came at a time you’d spar, and you could swear you saw your life flash before your eyes. When you drew your swords, his quick footing took you by immediate surprise. A flurry of his offenses came in your direction, taking you on at full force. You could only hear the clangs of metal and your grunts, perspiration trickling down your face and back. You tried to relay the same force, fighting as if your life was on the line. You knew the strength you had, but Vernon was startlingly superior. He was effortlessly swift, moving like a course of water, almost hitting you with every attack.

Your heart pounded out of your chest, staring back at the impenetrable darkness in his eyes. Slash after slash. Clang after clang. Pure murder was all he could see. This man was merciless, determined to make you meet an end. You just didn’t know if it meant the end of the lesson or your life.

Finally, his final strike swiped your cheek. The blade caressed the side of your face in a swift stroke, and a thinly veiled tear on your skin revealed the moment the sword is back to his side and you were stricken on the ground. You gasp in shock, eyes shooting up at the pain, and you tried not to tarnish your regal status any more than you already had with crying.

Never let your emotions control you, your father said many times.

You felt the blood dripping from the side of your face only to quickly wipe away with your uniform sleeve. Your eyes forced forward in Vernon’s direction, not even an ounce of guilt in his eyes as he walked away in his silent victory. You tightened your fist, tempted to slam them on the hard floor in frustration, while flushed throughout your entire being.

In your rare moment of weakness, you could hear light but quick footsteps approaching. Seokmin’s kind eyes stared back at yours as he came to your aid. His long legs swung beneath him in urgency before placing himself next to you. His honey-sweet timbre stroked your side, the twinkle in his eyes startling you as used his sheer strength to princely lift you up in his arms. Making it to the nurse’s office, his warm smile took your body temperature to new heights and the caged butterflies in your stomach broke free under his gentle touch.

Unlike Vernon, Seokmin didn’t despise you. He brought up a point of how similar you were the longer you spent time together. His mother too was once trapped in a curse only to have her love conquer all in the end. He carved for a story like theirs one day. There was enough commonality between you both for simulating conversations. And much like how much you heard about the half-mermaid, his voice was an extraordinary gift, capable of moving sailors and boatmen just as effectively. Just as it’s moved you. It was one of the things you found so devastatingly attractive about him.

You couldn’t help but fall for Seokmin that day. He was like sun rays peeking through the blinds of windows. It was just unfortunate how you had met, seconds upon the decision of Vernon sparing you from death.

At least Vernon had the decency to not come across you again. Since the incident took place, you hardly come in close contact with him. And you hadn’t planned on encountering him again.

The world worked in funny ways when they assigned you with him again a month later, this time forcing you to give a historical presentation. The moment your names were called together, even amongst the student body, the temperature between you in Vernon ran cold. Apparently, your feud with Vernon preceded itself. They feared for their lives as they tore away from you, afraid to get caught in the heat of the fire.

You turn to Vernon, matching his indifferent expression, thinking what a cruel world it was to bring you back into the hands of your attempted murderer. You clenched your fist before forcing out an agreeable tone of voice. “I don’t like this any more than you do.”

He remained silent, eyes away from you, avoidant.

“It’s only for two weeks. It’ll be fine.” You were unsure if you were saying this was to him or yourself.

He swallowed before he picked up his things and stood up from his desk. “Belle Library at 3:30. The faster we get it done, the sooner I don’t have to see your face.”

With that, he walks off, a lingering sting to your self-esteem.

Just the simple phrase from his mouth made your blood heat past the boiling point. Someone had never put you off to this extent. The strength it’ll take for you to get through this project would require more than patience. It would require compliance.

When the time arrived, he was there, seated at the table, waiting for your arrival. The next hour or two went smoother than you expected: mainly quiet besides the page flipping, the typing, and the occasionally exchanged muttering. Yet, you can see this would somehow work. You ignored the hardened gaze of his. It was like pins and needles all over your body. A prolonged sting took precedence on any of your other senses, but you’d just have to deal.

Without saying much, it felt like a quiet truce, just to get past this one assignment. For that, it would be fine.

For the next few days, you continued to meet with him to make progress. You didn’t hate him any less than you did some time ago, but he was tolerable enough that you didn't mind working with him. He did his parts as you did yours, having your collaborated presentation look rather, well, presentable. You could almost taste the end of the suffering. You couldn't help but give him a small smile seeing him work so diligently like it wasn’t him months ago drawing blood from your face.

“We’re almost done. Wow. And plenty of the time during the weekend,” you said rather lightheartedly.

He surprised you by giving you a lazy nod, agreeable to your statement.

“We’re not such a bad team. Maybe after this, we can get lunch or something.”

That’s when Vernon halted his movements, hands hovering over his keyboard before looking back at you to find the cold steel reflecting in his eyes. He cocked his head, scoffing, a new–but familiar–emotion erupting on his face.

 “I don’t think so, beastie.”

You were taken aback, blinking back at him in bemusement. “Excuse me?”

“Funny you had to ask,” he responded with a crooked smile. “You’re excused.”

You scoffed, gritting your teeth back at him before clicking your tongue on the roof of your mouth in a tsk. “What the hell is your problem?”

He rolled his eyes before gathering his things and stood up from the table. “We’ll pick things up from tomorrow when you can keep your ‘instincts’ under control. I need a break from you”

It took every atom in your body not to rip him from limb to limb from his foul words, mumbling under your breath curses of misfortune on him and his descendants. There was peace, even tranquility, and he had to go and mess that up. If there was a doubt in your head about how you felt about Vernon, it was clear now you could stand him and never will.

Though working through the weekend hadn’t been the plan, it’s what you ended up doing when he commanded you over messenger that there will still be work to do. God, was he the worst. You would object to his command if the project didn’t hold double digits in the percentage of your semester grade, so in the end, compliance had the best in you.

In attire not meant for regal activities or even lecture halls, you reunited with him in the same corner you both always occupied in your sweats and messy pulled-back hair. “Let’s get this over with.”

On the other hand, Vernon was effortlessly handsome in casual clothing, hair hidden underneath a beanie as he grunted back at you and you got back to work. The silence persisted, and you’re back to where you started: tolerating each other in hopes of an end.

The assignment took longer than usual today, seeing as there was a piece of information that was proven inaccurate and needed to be changed on every slide. You huffed on in frustration, parched, and took a long swig from your water bottle, his smug expression taunting you from across the table. 

“Stupid…stupid…” You muttered to yourself for letting a mistake like that happened, knowing Vernon had only more murder fuel to hold against you. 

“Glad you’re self-aware.”

You slammed the desk, unbothered by who would hear. It was empty anyway besides the librarian. No one would be here on a weekend you were.

“I am really sick and tired of your snarky attitude.”

He stood up, slamming back the same force into the desk, the toxicity in his eyes back wide and piercing. “Like you’re easy to work with? Hard to believe you can work a computer with your incompetence.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You imbecile.” You leaned forward to sink in his hair-raising glare, not backing down for once, and let the inner ‘beast’ you have trickled over the surface. “Just because you hate me doesn’t mean I deserve to be treated like shit. Mind you, I am a person.”

He leaned in closer, lips bitten red in frustration. “Hardly. Don’t think I don’t see you for the animal you are. You mindless, senseless, spawn of an abomination.”

Fury ran through your veins as you lunged at him, hands coming at him like you were rabid, feeling his strong arms come up beside you. He struggled under your weight, fighting back for a moment until gradually they gave up and let the length of your hand close around his neck. He stared back at you in anticipation, eyes flicking in a light that you had never seen before. One you couldn’t even identify if you tried. “Do it. Kill me. Like father, like offspring.”

Your teeth chattered as if you were freezing but you couldn’t be any more hot. You sucked a gasp of anguished, hatred being your lone source of fuel. Tears blurred your eyes in animosity before your grip tightened, seeing the life slowly escape his lungs as his lips quivered. His arms fell at their wingspan against his side, eyes closing in acceptance. He looked like he’s finally made peace, yet it couldn’t be under more violent circumstances. In a moment of clarity, you released your grasp, kicking him from the ground at his shin before pulling yourself up from the ground.

“Fuck you.” You spat and stormed off.

You’d swallow dragon scales before letting him win. You wouldn’t give the satisfaction of a justified ending where you’d end up the villain.

He was the villain. He’s always been the one antagonizing you and for a moment you gave in. You’d be taking lashes from the actual devil himself before letting that happen again.

You remembered how it felt with your hands around his throat, tightening every passing second. It was times like that, you feared who you were. How much of the ‘beast’ had you inherited. Besides hating him with all of your heart, your hand in ending someone’s life was terrifying but almost thrilling. 

Whatever it was, you had to ignore it, and that meant ignoring Vernon. Every inch of his beauty was easily disposable under your touch. That was more power than you could handle. You were never one to play god, even as royalty.

Using your better judgment, you finished your half of the project alone, not bothering to keep your appointments with him and rather your grade to take a hit than spend another insufferable second with him. At the deadline, you presented together with an obvious distance apart, resulting in a good enough grade that maybe the time spent together had been worth it.

It was the end, finally an end.

“You tarnished my hard work with your petty feelings.”

You rolled your eyes back at him as he confronted you in an abandoned section of the department building, often only occupied with silence. “You brought on your feelings first. I wasn't going to let you push me around. You’re so set on the delusion that I’m the reason for everything wrong in your life.”

He mocked your statement with a humorless laugh. “It’s not for no reason. I despise you.”

“And why, when I don’t know you? I’ve hardly spoken to you, even with the project occurring, you just glare back at me like some angsty little teenager like you’re annoyed at the world. Like I’m the problem.”

“Oh, in every way, you are,” he said, “Had it not been for you, I could’ve lived a normal life.”

“And how is that my fault?”

He took a step forward. “You and your fucking family that’s plaster all over town, constantly reminding me of what you’ve done to my family.”

“Me?” You said with wide eyes, “Your father held my mother hostage and tried to kill my father.”

“You think I don’t know the type of man my father was? The lies he spewed, the women he slept with, the fantastical delusions he fed my mother when she gave herself to him. I’m not a fool, beastie, but you and your family let my mother a widow, abandoned to her thoughts, and helpless child.”

Your expression softened, his words cutting through deeper than any insult he’s ever thrown at you, leaving a wallowing angst in the pit of your stomach.

“I had to be the one to take care of her, not the other way around. You and your father, your mother, everyone around you that exposed my mother to the life she’s lived…at least if my father had been around, perhaps she wouldn’t have gone insane.”

Desperation choked in his throat, eyes glassy from tears you never knew he could make. Your throat felt dry, for once lacking a comeback to respond with. You were immersed in the pain in his voice, the urgency in his body language. It was everything opposite to the Vernon you hated. Why? Why now?

“I…had no control over that.” Now you were crying, feeling the tension melt involuntarily.

You felt him crumble in front of you, falling over his harsh sobs and he fell limp on your arms, tears staining your sweater. He squeezes your arm through the fabric, desperate to be holding on to something, “She died, because of you, fucks. She only wanted to be happy…but why couldn’t I be enough?”

You didn’t know how to handle an emotional man, let alone one that was out to get you, but you let your arms come around him in an embrace. You held tight around him as the tears poured out of him like a river, returning the warmth, and forgetting he was ever screaming at you in the first place.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…you are enough Vernon. You are.” he gripped your harder, completely buried in your presence and lost in the breakdown.

You don’t remember how it ended, frankly, it was a blur. All you could remember was the heat of your sympathetic tears merging with the heat of his pained ones. Your embrace had not come close to anything you’ve once had, then again your relationship was anything but ordinary. By the time you went along with your normal day-to-day, the air had changed. Once charged with malice and disgust, now one with quiet and avoidant. Like you couldn’t bear to look at each other.

The image will forever be ingrained in your mind, as well as the weak ache in his voice as he tore himself to shreds. 

Your family never thought to visit Gaston’s family after his passing. It was no use since they’d only seen the blind fury as Vernon did, as for this mother, however, she was a normal girl in love who had lost the man she was in love with while she carried his child. Of course, that had to be heartbreaking, even if it was Gaston. Vernon had every right to be angry, fuming, having never known his father, and now having lost his mother, he was simply on a warpath. You just happened to face his wrath. 

Did it excuse any of his words or actions? No, but now you had answers. 

No matter. That was a mere months ago and you’ve had no reason to have spoken to each other since. Your father would have words for something like this. Dwelling had no place in what you have in store.

Vernon would just have to be placed on the back burner of your mind.

As of now, there was one thing to look forward to, and that was the winter formal. As a Royal, the opportunities you had to look exceptionally presentable were in front of your Royal duties or facing the brittle bones of members of parliament. This time you were dressed your best for leisure. Excitement filled every orifice of your body seeing the typically ordinary halls of your college splay posters of the event. It wouldn’t be difficult to find a way to get there or find the perfect outfit, but now all you needed was a date.

Your eyes wandered off to Seokmin, his smile dazzling as always as he engaged with his classmates. You don’t think you were obvious about your infatuation until you let out a loud sigh, causing the giggles to the left of you from Chan. As expected for the child of Tinkerbell. Mischief followed everywhere he went.

“How unbecoming of someone in line for a throne.”

You lightly elbowed the demi-fairy, playful sneering at him, watching the tuffs of his bright blond bounce wistfully in the wind. “Quiet, pest. I’m finally in a good mood.”

He slouched against the bench, following your gaze chuckling. “Just ask him out. It’s the perfect time.”

You scoffed. “And make a fool of myself? Not interested.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And I don’t want to risk it either.”

“May I remind you of your legacy? He’d be blind to reject your advances, your highness,” he said light-heartedly using your title.

You were meant to be poised and regal but Seokmin made you feel like an average person falling for their school crush. The effect he had on you was some sort of phenomenon. You’re surrounded by attractive people every day yet he’s the one who currently carried a piece of your naive little heart that believed you could have a true fairytale ending.

Ultimately, you sighed, turning to your friend with a solemn glance before pulling yourself off from the bleachers. “Let's just get to class, Chan.”

Chan gave you an indecipherable look mixed with defeat but didn’t press on further, joining you in your next class.

It had come to a point that couples outnumbered singles, crowding the vast halls to the point of polite apologies when you needed to pass someone to get somewhere. Even Chan had managed to get a date and you weren’t even sure he was seeing anyone. You were feeling left out—wondering when it was your turn, or how undesirable you were to not have gotten asked yet—until you were halted at the steps of the hall. An array of students stood by either of your sides in an almost assembly line. Scattered flower petals led your path along with seashells of every shape and size and you couldn’t help but smile especially as you met the eyes of the person behind all of it.

Seokmin was down on one knee, a large bouquet of roses in his arms, and a big poster held up by a few fellow students behind him asking to escort you to the dance. You held your hands to your face, squealing like a child hearing good news, “Yes! I’d love to go with you, Seokmin!”

You hugged him, cheers and sounds of joy following and you were happy beyond belief in the warmth of his body. Everyone was happy for you both, already making jokes for him to prepare for his royal status because this formal dance had the tradition that the couples made from this event often stood the test of time.

Meanwhile, you felt a pair of not-so-celebratory eyes tracing over every step you took, an unbearable heat running through your body. You weren’t sure what to think of it. Ignoring him was your best option, but that was better said than done.

The closer you got to the event, those same eyes would flicker to your presence more often than not, especially as you’re joined at the hip with your formal date across the halls. Vernon’s eyes, previously malicious but empty, now seeped a silent fury that wished he could have the gall to give in to the pressures he placed in his head. That gaze burned in you, embedded in your day-to-day, when you should’ve thought of one and only one person that willingly acted on being by your side.

The thought of Vernon’s eyes on you eventually began to fade into oblivion, replaced with images of slow dancing with Seokmin. You’d be adorned in gold jewelry, long silk gloves, and attire that best fitted your status, leaving onlookers wanting more. The night would be magical, parading more than royalty, living a somewhat beautiful evening of normalcy and fulfillment. And if so be it, end up resulting in a break of your lifelong dry spell of relationships.

“Well, would you look at that? Seokmin will love it.”

Chan offered you a brotherly smile as you showed off what you had chosen to wear back in your closet. The twirl of your body dropped the fabric in mesmerizing magic. You could feel a mixture of pride and power in such a beautifully crafted vessel. Its body was heavy but you couldn’t feel any more light wearing it like the world was finally going to give you what you needed, whatever that may be. It would come with time. At this moment, you felt exactly where you needed to be.

You grinned back at the young fairy. “Thanks, Chan.”

The day finally would arrive. You saw Seokmin out by the steps of your residence and finally saw the pristine appearance of him in his suit, smiling brighter than the setting sun. His gaze softened at you in appreciation, his smile somehow growing only wider, and he walked over to you and took you in his hand. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, sending chills down your back, while a thank you is caught in your throat.

You’re nervous the whole ride there, bouncing your knee in anticipation as Seokmin occasionally turned away from the road to smile. Your nerves dissipate the moment you enter the event. The dance hall was beautiful, streaming lights from the ceiling to floor satin blue cloths on tables, and gorgeous centerpieces that did the prestigious university more than justice. You have seen much grander decorations in your experience but in this space with your peers whom you respected many of, it felt like the most beautiful place on planet Earth.

“This is amazing.” You said your eyes aglow.

The coolness of the air tingled up your arm but faded as you noticed everyone else’s event attire. Grinning ear to ear, you appreciate the craftsmanship of everyone’s distinction from one another, all incorporating pieces personal to themselves. Hearing the soft laugh of your date tore you away from your watch and you locked on to the warm creases of his eyes. He excused himself, offering to get you drinks, and you nodded before seeing him off in the direction of refreshments. 

Your eyes returned to the floor plan before landing on the man you least expected to attend, prim and proper in a maroon-red suit perfectly tailored to him like a second skin. Vernon locked on you. The familiar look of hostility in his eyes along with something else unexplainable. It made the hairs of your neck stand and yet you couldn’t bear looking away.

You drew heat up your spine, breath stolen from your lips, and eyes quivered over his shape as you took in all of him. You knew all this time he was handsome, more than that, he looked eerily delectable, but you weren’t one to admit that. Not even yourself. Yet, something in the air, something mystical that drew you to him like a spell. A powerful, deeply conjured, mind-bending spell. 

“Dewberry punch. Surprisingly delicious.”

Your gaze broke at Seokmin’s appearance, smiling at him as if you hadn’t just thought about someone else in his presence. “I bet.”

You accepted your drink, while Vernon still trickled in your head like simmering rain, pattering on your rooftop and leaking to your subconscious.

It stayed that way throughout the night, making you wonder how you could change your sentiment about him with a simple suit. With all the wardrobe changes in the world, it shouldn’t have changed anything, but perhaps it wasn’t just the suit. The last vulnerable moment you shared was something that crawled from the back of your mind, softening your heart and aching for the man in your thoughts. You had sympathy as you would for anyone in a hard situation. Vernon was no different from that. It’d make sense if you’d think of him.

You did mental gymnastics during your slow dance, smiling back at Seokmin amicably as your hand pressed lightly against the middle of your back. He hummed to the beat of the music, his natural radiance momentarily distracting you. “I mean it when I said you look beautiful because, wow, you really do. Can hardly believe you said yes to me.”

Something swelled up in your heart, heating your cheeks as your smile grew an inch. You pulled closer to him confidently, content to hear he shared a similar sentiment. You let your eyes naturally flutter back at him, a familiar sense of breathlessness stopping at your lungs.

“I’m really glad you asked me,” you said in a soft gasp.

You felt his fingers lock tighter through yours and your foreheads kiss in a split second. His light layer of cologne infiltrates your nose and tickles your insides. You felt the warmth of his breath, the moment approaching, and you anticipated it. The moment his perfect pair would find yours, time would stop, like the storybook fairytale ending his mom and your dad had. 

Yet. You turned your head, burning in embarrassment from your last decision reflex. “I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Seokmin smiled disappointedly, reluctantly letting you go.

You took your time, lightly splashing water on your face. You took in your deep breaths. You physically shuddered to yourself. Something in the air that told you not enough. It should’ve been it, it’s all that your head said, but for some reason, your heart disagreed. What is wrong with you?

You shut your eyes tight, taking in more breaths—only getting shallower—before exhaling. By the time your heart settled down, you exited the restroom, painting a courteous smile, inching closer and closer to Seokmin who now seems to be preoccupied with the company of his friends.

Their voices only got louder the closer your feet cut through the distance, words getting clearer until you're riddled with confusion, drinking in every mutter like hot gossip.

“They were easy,” Seokmin bragged uncharacteristically.

Easy.

“They’re really into you, huh? Looks like you’ll get to replenish your fortune after all.”

Seokmin’s smile was familiar, yet an inkling of something sinister peaks through the last second as he fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair. “Becoming a Royal is going to be so much easier than I thought. Luckily, the beast’s kid is so desperate for attention. Who knows, maybe they’ll prove themselves in bed how much they’re willing to do for it.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, and you blinked them away, furious for not seeing the truth sooner. Your blood boiled. You were about to approach him when someone was one step ahead of you. In a flash, Vernon was pinning Seokmin by the neck. Seokmin, fear in his eyes, choked through his threats, hands over Vernon’s in an attempt to pull him off. “What the hell? Get off me!”

“Take it back,” Vernon growled.

A sum of the initial shock dissipates in Seokmin’s eyes, a smile erupting on his face, one that suggests anything but civil reconciliation. “What…oh, about Y/n? Why? Pretty boy got their eyes set on them?”

Vernon slammed him back on the wall, gripping tighter. “You get anywhere near them, I’ll kill you.”

“Vernon stop!” You shouted. “You’ll actually kill him!”

In a lingering silence, Vernon persists on Seokmin’s neck, fuming, seeing the taunt in Seokmin’s eyes. “You heard them. Let me go. Don’t think for a second you’re worth an ounce of their attention.”

“Like you are?” Vernon said, gritting his teeth.

“Vernon, please!” You pleaded.

Vernon pulled off of Seokmin, shoving him to the ground, before storming away. A look from him to you as he exits.

You approached him, finally seeing how pathetic he looks.

“Y/n, can you believe that guy?” He stretched his hands out to you, “Help me out here, beautiful.”

Your footsteps are heavy approaching him. Arms crossed, your scowl presented itself. “I heard everything, you jerk. I have half a mind to let him finish the job.”

He blinked back in disbelief, feigning innocence, “Y/n how could you say that—this is all just a misunderstanding—“

“Shut up and never talk to me again or I’ll finish what he started.” You took off from the scene, leaving Seokmin on the ground.

Your feet took you out of the building and on a search. Vernon couldn’t have left far behind. Gathering the material of your clothes in your fists, you find him within minutes. “Vernon! Come back here!”

“Get lost, beastie. I don’t have the energy for you.”

You scrunched your face up in frustration but persisted, trailing him heatedly. “You are going to explain what the hell just happened. I don’t know how many glasses of champagne you had, but no matter the amount does not warrant the near bloodshed in that ballroom. Or are you that stupid?”

“Leave me the fuck alone or I’ll make sure there’s bloodshed.”

“You could’ve gotten in so much trouble. Your temper is actually insane how in the hell—“

One second, you're going at him for doing something so reckless due to his unbridled lack of control, next he’s seething at you as he’s pinned you to the rough surface of an oak tree in the middle of school grounds. His eyes lit like wildfire, burning your skin from the little distance between you both.

“I warned you. You should’ve listened.”

You gasped seeing those honey eyes, like molten gold, you were entranced by their naked beauty seeing how they started to slowly soften beneath your gaze. “You…defended me. You almost killed someone…for me…”

Despite his warnings, you held no fear, and at this moment you felt perplexed by how alluring a mere human could be. Your heart rattled like it demanded escape and you can hear his heart do the same. It helped to have super hearing. You swallowed, eyes falling to his lips before, watching them tremble before you crushed them to yours.

Stunned, you felt him succumb to the desire you sense you both had, feeling his hand crawl up to your frilled side. However, half a second too late, he’s shoving you aside, covering his lips in wide-eyed shock. You stood back with your own look of shock, internally asking yourself if that really all happened. Not even a chance to apologize, Vernon took several steps back. “Never do that again. I swear to god, or I’ll regret it.”

He disappeared through the dark fog the air cast, leaving you alone in your thoughts. One thing stayed with you in that experience though. He said ‘I’ll regret it’ not ‘you’ll regret it.’ What exactly would he regret about it?

When classes start back up again, the atmosphere is anything but what it used to be. Despite your background, you lived a vaguely calm day to day but nowadays you can’t walk the halls without being stared at. You knew why, but you weren’t going to let them get to you. You were going to give yourself that space.

You let Chan know your lunches would be by yourself for a while until the noise would die down, and although he was disappointed, he couldn’t have been too disappointed with him and his formal date that has recently gone official. You were happy to know he wouldn’t be alone in your time of self-care.

The rooftop was known to be empty at almost all times. You knew this from coming time to time, especially in your freshman year when in the midst of the blithering heat of summer. Frankly, it didn’t bother you as much and apparently still hadn’t as you walked up the flight of stairs leading up and out the doors of that very rooftop.

Clutching a lunch box too big for a normal human, you stared back into the eyes he was scarfing down his meal like he was starving and alone. Vernon’s eyes grew twice their size as a limp noodle hung from his mouth before slurping it back up from his sauce-stained lips. “What ar—why are you here?”

You gestured to food, butting back the bit of shock that he was actually here in front of you. “Lunch.”

“Yeah, why aren’t you eating in the cafeteria? Off-campus? Why here?” He badgered.

You scoffed. “You don’t own the rooftop, Vernon.”

“Well, I don’t like you here. leave.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Are you really gonna be so difficult?”

“How am I being difficult? I’ll just sit here away from you eating my lunch, just… Ignore me.”

He scoffed. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

You occupied a space from the ground and made yourself at home, sitting criss-cross on the ground. Vernon stayed where he was found and continued his lunch. Neither of you talked the rest of the time there and when the moment it was time to go back to your individual classes. It would be done separately, but that would continue for weeks at a time, almost seeing each other every day around the same time for lunch. If you came to a point that neither of you minded the other's presence given that it was so normal to see each other in the same place.

Now you would quietly acknowledge each other while simultaneously trying to ignore each other’s presence, but within due time, the air between you two would leave a lingering charge, likely still thinking about what happened the night of the formal. The moment of weakness.

“I never thanked you.”

Vernon raised his brow, forking through his food.“Thanked me for what?”

“You may have almost killed Seokmin but you defended me.”

He rolled his eyes simultaneously letting out a sigh. “Don’t bring up that shit again.”

“But you did, and why… You hate me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he answered, uncertainty in his tone, “Maybe I don’t know. He just pissed me off.”

You smiled to yourself, finishing up the last of the entree. “I was there to hear everything and even I didn’t know what I’d do, so, thank you.”

“Whatever.”

The silence made its return but you continue to see each other more and more. Word has gone down about the entire event and you had become old news, but you never changed your routine. These days you were starting to enjoy Vernon’s company and perhaps he was enjoying yours. He stopped complaining about your loud chewing and started accepting some of your food exchanges, but besides that, you remain civil. You hadn't talked about the kiss you shared, and perhaps it was best that way. At least that’s what you kept saying to yourself even though it’s all you’ve thought in his presence.

You were forcing yourself to get over it. You had finally come to a place you and Vernon could stand in the same place without killing one another, maybe you even grew a friend out of him. In any case, you were better off, not knowing what he meant when he kissed you back or what he meant by saying he’d regret it. It would be fine. Given your family’s history, it’s likely they would never be what you dreamt it would be.

Fingering threw your bags for your dorm keys. You are getting closer and closer to the steps to home. You clutch around the metal, lacing a digit through your key ring, and claiming your key before a hand comes around your wrist. You turn to see your perpetrator, manic, eyes stare back at you and a smile, that you once found warm and familiar, turned dark and sadistic.  His once honey voice that you dreamt of, and could soothe you to sleep now, spoke a terrifying timber, towering over you, seething back at your fearful stance.

“Y/n, talk to me please talk to me.”

You tugged from his grip. “Seokmin what are you doing here? Leave me the fuck alone.”

“How are you? I’ve missed you.” Honey laced his tongue, but known him it was like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, deceitful. 

“Seokmin let go of me.”

“No,” he shouted, “not until everything is right with us again.”

You shot your eyes back at him, “Are you fucking insane? Get away from me, you lunatic.”

His fingers wrapped tighter around you, bringing you close and personal to see the red in his eyes. “You were mine, Y/n who cares what happened that night. All I know is that I want you and I know you want me too.”

“Seokmin please, I’m begging you, you’re hurting me.”

In your desperate pleas, he doesn’t listen. You felt trapped, buried under the heavy weight of his words, how inhuman he looks,, and you feel terrified for your life. You tried wrenching out of his touch, screaming for an escape, wishing upon any unseen star in the afternoon sky that this moment would end. As if your prayers were answered a body comes in and slams Seokmin onto the ground. You see their feet kick back at him, fury in their eyes screaming back at the man.

“Get the fuck out of here before I promise to kill you and I don’t fucking break my promises.”

Seokmin is almost tempted to challenge him, but he ends up escaping, leaving you both behind.

Here Vernon was again, somehow saving you just as you have begun to accept your platonic nature, and you can’t help but look at him with eyes of want, desire, and need. You’ll never begin to understand the pull you had towards this impossibly destructive man but you were beginning to understand that there would never be an end between you two. In turn a new fear, now you would be worrying about days without him.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, washed over with concern.

“I’m not but,” you look over him, locked on him, even noticing the sweat falling from his brow, “You really have no self-control do you?”

He dropped his warm expression“Are you really telling that to me, someone that just saved you from potential assault?”

“You keep hurting me, you keep saving me, pick a side. What is it about me, Vernon? Why? Why are you here when I always least expect you to be?” You asked in almost frustration. 

“As if I know. you’re the beast’s kid. How can you be so fucking helpless that you need my saving?”

You don’t bother to answer, as if the answer were all in the eyes looking back at you. Gathering all your courage, your lips found their way back to his, the salt of your tears sweeping over his lips. You whimpered in ache, clutching the front of his shirt. You pulled him towards you and this time, he didn't let go.

You made your way back to your place, clothes thrown astray on the ground. You were skin to skin, lips to lips, body to body. It all felt so fast, so rash, but your mind couldn’t think of anything else. All there was the hot of the fire between your legs and Vernon, perfect gorgeous Vernon.

“Vernon…”

He exhaled a shallow breath before roughly tugging you to the arm of your couch, placing you against it like it’s your pedestal. His hand against the small of your back, steadied you as his lips made their way down to your chin, neck, and collar. His eager fingers found your stiff peaks in a matter of milliseconds before he prodded at them, rolling them between the pads of his fingers.

“You won’t regret it,” You asked, “having sex with me?”

“Will you?” he responded, teeth grazing your stiff sensitivity as it got harder against his tongue.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Good. Then neither will I.”

He fell to his knees the moment he found a place between your thighs. The heat of his lips ghosts over your inner thighs, tongue licking over the fabric of your inner garment, before closing it around his lips, sucking the arousal soaking through it. You clutched the leather of your seat, moisture forming in your mouth, “Oh god.” His tongue finds the divide of core, moaning sweetly as hr anxiously fed. Your legs settled on either of his shoulders, knee brushing tenderly over his cheek.

Finally, pushing the garment aside, he feasted on your raw heat, moving his tongue in ravenous speed, having you spew out sighs of contentment. You blistered in goosebumps, licking your lips, your whines became a soothing symphony, and Vernon’s tongue became the award-winning solo. Soon, they’d melt in bursts of ache, clenching the perimeters to his face.

“Your tongue, Vernon, shit…”

His hands stroked up your side, tongue flicking back at your clit, before his mouth sucks on the entrance, kissing it like he’s met his estranged lover. You couldn’t ignore his eyes, honey ebbing with lust, long lashes framing his view like he was a goddamn dream. You laced through his hair when you felt the presence of his fingers in you and you tugged, a sinful mumble leaves his lips.

“Harder.”

You thought you might’ve been hearing things, and you croaked out a, “What?”

“Please pull harder,” Vernon repeated in groans. “Mommy…”

You blinked back down at him in fascination. “Mommy?”

His eyes creased together in an impossibly endearing way, looking malleable and edible, his gentle hands caressed your thighs in worship, “Yes Mommy…please…”

“…Okay, I can do that.”

You did as he requested and his voice resonated as a reward. Your fingers dig deeper in his hair and found out how easily Vernon complies with a bit of encouragement. His fingers plugged your entrance, removing and reappearing, at a skilled pace. You enjoyed him, louder moans bouncing off the walls of your manor as your body shook against him, surely coming apart for in a matter of minutes how he was going. Bucking your hips you hissed as a sliver of your climax, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.”

“Please do it, Mommy, I want to taste you…”

You called out to him in pure anguish, his mouth pressed into you, catching every drip, completely defiling his mouth. Finished, you pulled him by the hair to meet his lips. You fisted through his hair, locking his body between your legs as your release is addictingly sweet on his tongue. “So you want me to be your…mommy?”

“Yes,” Vernon slowly answered with a hint of hesitancy, “does that bother you?”

“N-no, just not used to it, but I like it,” your draped your arms over his shoulders, “as long as you like it. You can call me whatever you want. I’ll be your mommy.”

You dragged him from his hair, ensuring he was willingly compliant, and had him land on the thick cushion of the couch. You sat next to his side, sucking on his tongue coated in your climax before you crept your hand at his briefs. Your hands slipped out his cock and wrapped its stiff stature with your fingers. Traveling his precum to his shaft, your digits trace over his veins through the slick. You placed pressure around his girth—his moans sweet but full of sin—and you smiled against his lips in interest.

“You like that?” You teased, “You like how mommy’s touching you?”

“Yes, Mommy.” He trembled.

“Should mommy help you cum?”

He nodded, chest noticeably heaving up and down. “I want whatever mommy wants.” 

Your gaze dipped at his cock, delectable and only growing bigger in his hands “I want you to cum on mommy’s fingers.”

He nodded again, now more gingerly, “Yes, Mommy, thank you, Mommy.”

You stroked with a gentle touch initially, working your way up his length, and allowed him to speak to find a pressure he preferred. You liked how he reacted to you, almost buzzing in arousal. He emitted subtle desperation, patient to your control, and only allowed himself to move as you asked. His hands stayed by his side, nails digging into the leather of the couch. Your free hand parted his messy hair, exposing his forehead, and you took the ball of your hand over his flushed cheek. You admired him close in stark contrast to the hand ruining him.

He mouth opened to pant, “So good…that’s so good…thank you…”

You bit your lip, an idea suddenly popping into your head. “Can I spit in your mouth, baby?”

As if he couldn’t get redder, he glows up like a bright neon sign, almost blaring that he was in fact open. “Yes, Mommy, spit in my mouth please.”

You tilted his head upward by his chin. Your thumb helped in parting his lips before a string of translucent liquid fell from your tongue to his picture perfectly. “Slurp it for me baby, take my spit.”

He collected the remains from your tongue, needy wet sounds loud for show, and he visibly swallowed for you to see. “Thank you…”

“No, thank you.”

Your lips found home against each other and your hand tugged around his cock tighter, faster. His whimpers are muffled between your lips, and his hips instinctively bounce, thrusting back into your touch. You didn’t need to pleasure yourself to get off, already high on his pretty little voice desperate for release. “Such a good boy for me. You gonna come for me?” 

“Yes Mommy, I’m gonna cum…just like that touch me just like that.” You followed the direction of his voice before you found the buckle of his hips, finally, it dispersed in the air and hit his chest. his lips.

“That good?” You hummed, and he nodded back, inching closer to you, inaudibly asking for more.

You did as he requested, drawing them only when you hear his gags and his salvia is the only thing that keeps you connected. Nothing could replace the look of listlessness mixed with pleasure on his face, it was pure bliss.

“Sit still for Mommy.”

You let your underwear fall to the ground and do the same to him before coming up and straddling his lap. Your lips are again one, crushing in harsh friction as you were rubbing his still hard cock between your bodies, not caring about the mess. Your slick moisture slathers up your bodies in the process while you’re grinding in his lap. Ribbons, thick of ivory releases, adorn his toned torso like celebratory streamers.

You collected it from your fingers and had a taste, dragging the nectar over your tastebuds. “So sweet…”

He eyed your fingers, blinking back in temptation as he licked his lips. There’s no need to ask as you gathered the remaining from his body and gently placed it in his mouth. He ate his cum with pride, sucking them off clear from your finger until your knuckles practically vanished from

“Should mommy help you cum so more?” You tempted, “That way you can cum in Mommy?”

A glint of excitement flashed before replacing it with concern. “B-but a condom?”

You shrugged, leaning in closer, “I trust you’ve been good, have you?” Have you been safe?

“Yes, Mommy.”

You tangled your fingers through his hair, soften with his sweat, “Then it's no problem.”

You slipped him inside you feeling him stretch your insides. Your lips pressed together, processing the sensation, which followed a loud satisfied moan.  “Such a good boy, so big for mommy.”

At the same time, Vernon groaned, hands settling on your hips, “Mommy’s so…perfect, so warm.”

You used him like a toy, lifting your body to bounce in his lap. You pulled at his lips with your teeth, tuned in to the whimpers he makes when let go. His cock moved in at in achingly slow rhythm, teasing him with your walls, seeing hope fade from his eyes every time you do. Holds your tighter, determined for more, but does not overstep his role. “Mommy…”

“Is my baby being needy?”

“Please let me cum—mmh, ah,” your fingers found his nipples, twisting them, “Please, Mommy.”

“Are you going to clean up the mess?”

“Yes Mommy, I always clean my messes.”

“Fine, I’ll let you cum,” your hand came around the sides of his neck before tightening, the startle look in his eyes melting in euphoria as you felt his adam's apple shift as he swallowed, “but we’re both going to cum. And you, are going to cum a huge load in me. Are you gonna do that for Mommy?”

He nodded, no sign of diminishing obedience. “Yes, mommy, everything.”

You put in more effort this round, pounding and grinding over his thighs, the sounds of your skin coming against each other having you reeling in every way.. His cock fucked back into you but if anything, it felt like you were the one fucking him. You pushed him harder against the couch, leaving his head over the end of the couch. “Gonna cum for mommy, hmm? Gonna pour your big load into me?”

“So good Mommy…more…let me cum please…I’ll pour it all into you.”

You took top speed, fucking until you couldn’t anymore, as your climax reappeared, bucking your hips against him. Vernon shit his eyes as he was close too, and in a second you felt a flood of warmth fill you to the brim, coating your insides in his hot, sweet nectar. His thrusts come apart in the air like his moans, in a staccato rhythm, he fits his cock deeply surrounded in your release before dropping his head back to catch his breath. You rested your head on his shoulder, smiling, and feeling soft caresses take up your back misted with sweat.

“That…um,” you chuckled nervously to yourself, the illusion of power dissipated.

“Thank you, Y/n.” His voice oozed something that kept you warm and gooey, resembling sincere gratitude and appreciation.

For the first time in what felt like forever, your cheeks are now finally the ones to heat up. You stared back at Vernon’s glassy gaze, a smile so foreign yet dreamlike, you almost forget it wasn’t one of the many images you imagined in your head. He was actually staring back at you with the same desire you had grown to have for him.

“I never got to apologize,” he added, lids heavy with fatigue, “kind of feels late for that, but I’m sorry.”

“Well it’s kind of late to say I forgive you, but I do.”

You didn’t need to say what it was for you to understand what the apology was about, neither of you did. You simply just kissed, kissed him as if you’d die without him. You’d kiss him until your lips would glue shut together from a natural glue. You’d kiss him if it’s the last day of the world. You’d just kiss him.

After some cleansing, you joined naked in the bed, just back in each other's presence. With your head on his arm and his other arm around you, you laid next to each other like newlyweds, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’m sorry, about your family I mean,” you couldn’t help but follow up.

He shook his head defiantly, “Don’t be, honestly, I was being…awful, jumping to conclusions. Funny enough, a lot like my dad.”

You sensed the bitterness in his voice, “But my family held power. I could’ve—we could’ve. There was so much we could’ve done to help your upbringing.”

“That is not your responsibility,” he replied pushing away a loose strand of hair from your face, “I’m finally accepting that right now she’s in a good place. I don’t have to worry about her. What’s done is done.”

“What about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?” You asked dubiously, just wanting assurance. 

“For once…I am. Finally, I am.” He kissed your lips, holding on to your close embrace. “Her passing pushed me to do better for myself—even if it wasn’t for the best intentions—it got me through school, and gave me an in with the happily ever after program. Now I can have my happily ever after. Took me this long but you helped me realize it.”

You matched his smile. “I’m happy for you.” You petted the top of his head, hearing him chuckle.

“There’s a lot I need to make up for, even if we’re ‘even’.”

You hummed cheekily in agreement, “Certainly, we can find something.”

He playfully shrugged, gathering your hint. “Just tell me what it is, I’ll be there. Even if I have to get on my knees.”

[hopes-peak-postal-company]

For Mod Hajime, i hope this doesnt sound weird but could you do a platonic fatherly yandere imagine post with Elias Bouchard? I like to imagine he fixates on a new Institute hire who doesnt know the fears are real and just decides "Its Child time. There is nothing I wont do to make my new child happy." But he also has to work around Jon and them getting in his way because they just dont GET that he's a Father now.

A FATHER'S LOVE!

"surely you'd choose your father over your friends, wouldn't you?"

summary. getting a job at a spooky academic institute offers toms of spooky outcomes. you just didn't expect to get a father figure and a overlyprotective friend group.

contents. platonic yandere! elias; elias is a wet cat grandpa; the archivist gang are slightly yandere; happens right after season 1

✦ It was difficult. Getting by in the big London city and rent to your flat was quite ridiculously high, even for usual london rent standard. But thankfully, a position in The Magnus Institute had opened and you managed to get the spot after wrangling out your best qualities to the HR like you're trading them.

✦ Now, you were aware of what you were getting into. I mean, an institute that's notorious for having many people going MIA or dying, but this was the only job that accepted you out of the millions you applied for and frankly, it pays better than most of them.

✦ So, you worked as the institute's librarian. It shocked you to know that they have their own personal library but at the same time, you kind of expected it. After all, it is an academic institute and there's bounds to be numerous books and soucres to cite for every statement given, regardless of how strange there are.

✦ You've met a couple on the job. Some were nice and often has small talks with you while some simply comes and goes, not even bothering to talk to you unless they're checking a book out. It was fine, of course, you can't help but feel disheartened. After all, all you do is stand by, organize the library and do nothing. It gets a bit lonely sometimes.

✦ And then, one day, a certain someone came to the library and it was no one other than big boss himself— Elias Bouchard. You never met the man before, only hearing him from Rosie and the others, but he is generally well-disliked by his own staff. You had nothing to complain about him and honestly, you find his company nice.

✦ He comes to the library whenever he has free time and then would talk to you. It wasn't just small talk, not just noise coming out of his mouth to fill in the silence, but he talked to you. He told you so many things— his opinions, his likes and dislikes —and even asked you about yours.

✦ Elias would listen intently, taking in every information about yourself in a manner so ... different from how he usually carried himself. Elias Bouchard was a prideful asshole and you knew that obviously well from just his body language, and yet when it comes to you, he is oddly soft. He reminds you almost like a dad for some reasons.

✦ And your relationship with your boss became like that. You didn't mind, you understand to some degree but even still you couldn't wrap your mind around why he chose specifically you. Maybe he didn't choose or maybe he did, but either way, this outcome was better than him hating you.

✦ But then, only a few months into your job, you suddenly got promoted to assistant archivist, joining the very few others in the archives in their day-to-day life.

✦ It was ... suffocating at first. The institute did suffer damage from the Prentiss Attack as you heard from the other employees and with the archives being the main target for the worms, it was not surprise that the Archivist and his team suffered greatly. Though injured, all of them still came back in one piece so that was a good thing.

✦ It took a while getting to know the others: Martin was the quickest to befriend and he'd bring you your favourite cup of tea whenever he can. Tim was the second, jokingly flirting with you at first but he was comfortable to be around and somehow both of your intensive knowledge on memes made the two of you friends. Sasha, on the other hand, took a bit more effort but in the end, she was just as fun and cheery as the other two outside work.

✦ Jon, on the other hand... He was wary, of course, a bit of an asshole too but you were determined to let his walls down, and so was the team. He gradually came to accept (aka get comfortable with) your existence and doesn't glare you like a cat you just rudely woke up.

✦ Elias... Elias isn't too pleased with this development though as you come find. He finds every excuse in the book to have you in office, stalling you just so he could spend more time with you. He had moved to the archives for one very specific reason and that was so he can watch you carefully.

✦ I mean, how couldn't he? You were so nice to him, oblivious to the concept of the entities and you didn't even care if he gets a bit 'spooky' (as Tim puts it) at times. In fact, he claimed you as his kid the moment you seem to play along with his 'little cryptid act'.

✦ But The Archival team... Oh, did they get on his nerves. But he couldn't do anything, no, he was sure you'll know and they'll tell you about what he truly is and he couldn't risk that. He couldn't lose you to them, so he'll have to just slightly abuse his power a bit. Just to have you be by his side a bit longer.

✦ Of course, Archivist and Co. can't stand by idly and watch him take their friend! And so, everytime Elias and one of them come to your desk at the same time, it's practically a tug of war for your affection and attention.

✦ It makes you laugh honestly, seeing them fight like this. Reminds you so much like a father trying to shoo away any his kid's admirers.... Only if you knew though, then you wouldn't be laughing.

notes. hi hii!!! tysm for requesting this!! i always wanted to write for tma but couldn't. ik this is a pretty old req (i think like .... from june i think?) and i wrote this months ago but forgot to finish

reqs are alwyas open!! and dont forget to reblog any of our works here on this blog, it help us a lot!!! ty again for requesting!

[cloudcountry]

I wanted to ask why you hated Idia so much back then and the reason you adore him?

im gonna start telling people to pay me whenever they ask why i hate(d) idia because ive got this question easily 20 different times and frankly i'm losing money by not accepting payment

im not writing all that again i'm so tired of explaining it over and over ughhhh its not your fault min its just i seem to be a skipping record with how often i've had to repeat the same thing over and over and over for a YEAR and people just KEEP ASKING like ok you want to know about my relationship with idia shroud PAY UP!!!!!

anyways...i havent written about the things i adore about him yet so...

first first first!! the thing that made me gasp the softest gasp i have ever gasped in my life when i first saw it...his pink hair. its a bit superficial i guess but now that i like idia i think he's stunning. he's so hauntingly beautiful, especially when he's just a little bit flustered and the tips of his hair turn pink. what i would do to see his whole head turn pink PLEASE.

i also think his smile is so silly, even though it's usually accompanied by his smug ass voice "should'a leveled up more!" SHUT UP!!!!! i love his sharp teeth theyre so goofy nd silly but in a cute way. honestly i think his scowl is cute too, idk maybe i just like his lips but watching them twist up in annoyance when he rolls his eyes is attractive to me dont ask i dont know either. does that say something about me? maybe. i'm content with not knowing.

onto less superficial things...i just finished reading book six yesterday and it struck me how idia's heart is genuinely so beautiful. he loves so gently and fully, but with devotion that would destroy the world if he let it loose. being loved and treasured by idia is a privilege, because once he lets you in he would do anything for you (just dont fuck it up or i will beat you up im being so serious LEAVE HIM ALONE)

the extent to which he cares for ortho is so beautiful and so heartbreaking. "leave it to your big bro" im dead. everything he does is for ortho to have a safe and fulfilling life and honestly...it kind of seems like idia is trying to pay ortho back in a sense? like you died (because of me), now i will spend the rest of my life mourning you as punishment. he wants to give him the best life possible and thats just so ourgourgouhgohou,,,, his grieving is so complex and yet its so simple. heartbreaking i tell you.

on a lighter note, he's very passionate about the things he's into as well. one thing about figuring our how to like idia was turning my reaction to his condescending jabs from "oh he's such a know it all bitch what the hell people are literally just indulging in his interests what is wrong with him?" TO "oh he's just excited and getting an adrenaline rush, it's going to his head. he's happy. :)" and that was absolutely growth on my part because. ok AUBURN LORE TIME but i used to have a friend who was very condescending and a HUGE know it all (irl IRL IRL) and i think they definitely impacted how i saw idia because i saw bits of them in him. and since they hurt me so much i projected my experiences with them onto idia, so the first time i met him in game i wrote him off immediately and hated him after i saw what he said to others and how he acted.

but one of the many problems with that approach was that i missed the gentler sides of him. the way he goes back to school for ortho. the way he powers through the masquerade social for ortho. his idea of yuu being "valuable emotional support." his love of cats, regardless of how bad he scared grim. his love of star rogue and the way he made the sequel actually happen, albiet unintentionally. i spent so much time resenting him because "of course he's just another one of those." that i didn't stop to notice anything about him except for those bad moments. and of course, i'm not ignoring them now, i just see them differently. i see him differently.

of course i love that he's relatable, and that he's smart, and i love how when he's comfortable he loses his filter and becomes idia shroud instead of just being Scared of them, but i think that's just. social anxiety. and yk what ive said this before but even when i hated him i would NOT stand for anyone coming for his anxiety. like yeah i hate idia shroud but BITCH GET AWAY FROM HIM. YOU DONT KNOW WHAT ANXIETY IS LIKE!!! put me in nrc right now idia shroud needs someone who will yell at people for him and thats going to be ME. i dont care who you are you say shit you are earning my IRE. trey clover got yelled at. no one is safe.

can i just say i love how you said "reason" like there's only one JDSJSDJSD LMAO IDK IT WAS JUST FUNNY TO ME when i love someone i have multiple reasons and i love every part of them, even the bad annoying icky parts (in fact, if you can't love their bad parts too is it even love...? i dont know, we all have different definitions anyway. some might think tolerating their bad parts is love too and we'd both be right.) theres no one reason i just think he's lovely inside and out now. he's an angel, basically.

[yourantag]

New Beginnings (Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: Honestly not the proudest of this one, but I'm happy enough with it that I deem it as good as done. This is part of a collaboration of sorts with a few people from the Ithaqua discord server with a prompt focusing on a modern AU where Ithaqua has a healthy family relationship and takes you to prom. Hope you enjoy my take on this! On another note, I think I should probably try to make an introduction post and a masterlist. Problem is, I am simply too lazy and probably won't do it until like,,, 5 months later. Someone send help. Word count: 4.0k words Summary: Anxiety consumes him alive, to the point he's paralyzed in fear. Ithaqua doesn't want to lose you, but it seems no matter what he does, he will. Unbeknownst to him, you feel much the same. Senior year really does smack people in the face, doesn't it?

The Norwell twins are odd, though not in a way that is truly unusual for most siblings. The two are complete opposites, constantly bickering, yet also very close. Since they were separated at birth, many expected that there would be a rift between them. That didn't end up the case, for better or for worse.

Nathaniel was the heir to the notorious Norwell Conglomerate, treated like a prince since birth. Ithaqua was their long lost brother, raised by a kind woman in a rural area. No matter how anyone looked at it, Nathaniel would either have a sense of superiority or feel threatened by his brother returning. Ithaqua, in turn, would feel inferior to his brother who had been perfectly raised to be a leader.

Yet, none of those speculations and expectations became a reality.

Ithaqua quite literally denounced his right to be heir the moment he met his birth parents. He claimed he was perfectly content living life as he was, and didn't need anything the Norwell family may feel inclined to give him. While it was a bit blunt, it was honest. It put many people at ease, including his brother. Nathaniel immediately took a liking to his twin after that, which no one could really understand. When asked, he simply shrugged and said "I like straightforward people who know what they want."

Nathaniel is all sly words and cunning, charming in a way that is alluring like the gentle call of the depths of a ravine. He's used to the deceptive nature of business and people of the upper class. Honestly, he's so used to it that it sickens him. To finally meet the brother he'd always wanted to get to know, and find that he is everything that he'd ever want him to be? Well, Nathaniel couldn't be any more pleased.

Ithaqua is blunt and straightforward, but not unkind. He's someone who does what is right and is considerate of people, even if he doesn't seem like it. With a loving adoptive mother who taught him well, it was impossible for him to ever lust for more than he needed. All Ithaqua wants is a nice job and a house big enough for him, his mom, and maybe a caretaker for his mom when he isn't able to take care of her.

With how pure he is morally, it's expected that Ithaqua didn't particularly like his brother, or his whole biological family really, at first. Still, he gave them the benefit of the doubt and found that they weren't nearly as bad as he had thought they'd be. They were rather normal for a family, just... rich. He could ignore that if he squinted enough.

Not as much changed as he'd anticipated. It was merely requested that Ithaqua and his adoptive mother moved into the Norwell mansion, and that Ithaqua went to the same high school as his brother. It wasn't strictly required, and the Norwell's claimed that regardless of their choice, they'd respect it and send the two money to take care of themselves. 

They agreed to live with the Norwell's in the end.

Two years had passed since then, and it was shocking to see how the twins acted now. Nathaniel would lightly poke fun at Ithaqua, and he in turn would poke back. The two had their differences, but ultimately ended up quite good friends. It was almost surreal to some students to watch the proud, arrogant heir suddenly become a teasing older brother of sorts. It made him feel less unreachable, more human. 

With senior year rapidly coming to an end, many were either panicking or celebrating. Soon, they'd be going to college, trade school, or the like, becoming "real adults" and having more freedom than they'd know what to do with. It was nerve-wracking, it was exhilarating. 

With the desire to have no regrets, many asked Nathaniel to prom. He rejected everyone, practically the whole school, while clinging to Ithaqua and claiming he wouldn't go with anyone in fear that his poor little brother would be lonely. 

If Ithaqua's deadpan expression didn't show how much of a lie that was, Nathaniel's shit eating grin sure did.

The truth of the matter was, Nathaniel couldn't go with anyone in fear of either tainting their family reputation or giving someone false hope of a relationship he had no interest in. Even if he was sly, cunning, or as other people put it, a bastard, he still had his morals. Needlessly breaking hearts or hurting his family was not something he wanted to do. Ithaqua knew this, which was why he let his brother use him as an excuse. Not a good excuse, but an excuse nonetheless. 

"Ah, I wish someone would go with my poor, unfortunate brother. So lonely, with zero friends and a personality that repels literally everyone! I sincerely wish my brother could have a partner, but alas, he has no rizz." Nathaniel dramatically proclaimed, draping himself over his twin. Ithaqua looked like he had half the mind to push him off, and after a moment of thought, he did. The older teen yelped, barely stabilizing himself before he could fall. "Hey! That was mean."

While the childish actions of his brother were mildly annoying, Ithaqua was too preoccupied to truly get mad at him. After all, he had more important matters to attend to. Specifically, thinking about how to ask you out to prom.

You were Ithaqua's first friend when he transferred into Oletus High School. With most either trying to butter him up or ignoring him, he thought he wouldn't be able to make a friend at all. Then you came, in all your fumbling glory.

You were in all of his classes, sometimes sitting right besides him. The class he first really noticed you in was drama. Ithaqua can't help but laugh remembering how you completely butchered your role as Mercutio. 

Everyone was given a role from Romeo and Juliet at random, Ithaqua being Romeo and you being Mercutio. Technically, you could say anything as the whole purpose of this project was to modernize the script. It was entertaining, to say the least, to give teenagers complete free reign over a play that was pretty much made with the memes of the time in mind.

"Romeo, my guy, you were in love with Rosaline literally a day ago. Now, you're saying you love this- this Juliet you just met. I know we're hormonal teenagers but really?"

"She's attractive though."

"Yeah, well you're attractive too and you don't see me simping over you all the time."

"You simp over me half the time?"

"..."

"Mercurio?"

"Bye."

Honestly, most of the improved scenes were pure gold, but Ithaqua only remembered the ones with you. After all, to him, those were the funniest ones. It was what got him to reach out and interact with you.

He was pleasantly surprised to see you had no clue who the Norwell's were. Ithaqua expected you to know who he was, or who Nathaniel was at least, but you did not know and did not care. It was a miracle considering the Norwell Conglomerate was in charge of a lot of major brands, but he wasn't going to complain.

You treated him normally, making lighthearted jabs at him, casually joking with him, and offering him comfort when school and life became too much. In a new environment where most didn't want to interact with him for good reasons, you were like a shining beacon of light.

Being able to be himself without any judgment was nice. It was why he treasured your friendship more than anything else. Sure, many can claim his life is overall better than before, but you were the one who truly made it that way. Without you, Ithaqua is sure he would've grown to hate it all.

It's why he hesitated asking you to prom at all. It's not necessarily all that suggestive, perhaps, but prom is a place many go to with their romantic interests. There's an inherent sense of intimacy in asking someone to go with you. So, for Ithaqua to ask you to prom, it'd be tantamount to confessing his feelings without really doing so.

He couldn't bring himself to do that considering he didn't know if you returned his feelings. What if you didn't like him back? What if you stopped being friends with him? Would your friendship become more and more strained until your bond became nothing more than a fleeting memory?

Ithaqua, for all his honesty and straightforward nature, was truly not all that bold. But he could at least admit one thing.

He was scared.

He was scared of losing you.

Perhaps he's being a bit dramatic- asking someone to prom isn't always something romantic. But when it concerns you, Ithaqua's brain simply stops working. He can't help but fret over everything, drowning in a lake of anxiety that he created.

"Just ask them. Worst case scenario, they realize you like them, but your feelings aren't returned. After that, you'll be heartbroken, but at the very least you won't experience the awkwardness of being around your crush who doesn't reciprocate your feelings. We'll be graduating in a few weeks, so is there really anything to lose? Do you have any time for regrets?"

Sometimes, Ithaqua wanted to throw his brother out the window. He's being completely logical, yes, but matters of the heart aren't so simple. Ithaqua has been swallowing his feelings for so long because he didn't want you to leave his life. Sure, you guys may never meet again after high school, or maybe you will, but he wanted the last of his memories with you to be happy regardless. Ones he will yearn for, smile over, laugh with melancholy at, not cry and despair over. 

Nathaniel shook his head as he watched his younger brother scowl at him, still deep in thought. It was painfully obvious to him that you returned Ithaqua's feelings, but neither of you were willing to try and confess. At this point, he should just do it for you guys!

...or so he feels, but he knows this is something for Ithaqua to deal with. Nathaniel wants to protect Ithaqua and make sure he's happy, but he can't do that for his whole life. A helicopter parent (brother?) is not what Ithaqua needs, so he remains silent.

Above all else, Ithaqua's feelings on this matter, along with yours, matter the most. Whether he gains the courage to ask you or not is up to him, not Nathaniel. It was honestly torturous to watch, but this is not something he should overly involve himself in. Nathaniel knew better than anyone else what it felt like to have your privacy violated, and he'd never want to subject either of you through such a thing.

Nathaniel can only pray that whatever happens, he gets a chance to shove Ithaqua into you so you'll finally kiss and stop going around each other in circles.

-

Days turned into weeks, each moment passing by faster and faster until finally, it was the day for prom. Ithaqua failed to muster up the courage to ask you to go with him.

It wasn't that big a deal, sure, since you were planning on going with him and his brother anyway. You three were a trio, a close-knit friend group, so it wasn't weird by any means. Still, he'd at least wanted to try. It was pathetic that he'd simply given up before he even could.

Regardless, what's done was done. Ithaqua had done nothing, so he'd face the consequences that came with that. At the least, he could be glad he'd be going with you.

...and his brother.

Pulling up to the venue, Ithaqua maintained a frosty exterior. He picked at the smooth fabric of his vest, muttering complaints as he threw his suit jacket over his shoulder. Nathaniel smiled brightly as he whistled, dragging his brother into the building.

Ithaqua was dressed in a white dress shirt, black vest, and blue trousers. Though his jacket was supposed to be worn and matching with his pants, he'd all but hissed at Nathaniel that he'd rather die than wear it properly. It wasn't like he hated the jacket, but it was too stuffy and thick considering the weather. Even with his hair pulled into a ponytail, his neck was getting sweaty just standing in the sun.

Nathaniel didn't seem to have that problem, wearing a crimson red suit in its entirety and not seeming bothered in the least. Ithaqua wondered if it was because he'd lived in the city for so long, or was just used to wearing stuffy clothes for business meetings. Probably both.

"C'mon Itha, you should wear the jacket once we get inside! They have air conditioning so it won't be that bad." Nathaniel whined, pressing the button to the 5th floor in the elevator. Ithaqua huffed, rolling his eyes as he scrolled through his phone quickly.

"I'd really rather not. Besides, you shouldn't worry about how I look considering the fact that you look like a red envelope given during Chinese New Year." Ithaqua responded, shoving his phone into his pocket as the elevator doors opened.

"Hey! I do not! I'm not wearing gold!" Nathaniel exclaimed, pouting as he followed Ithaqua. He was pretty much ignored, however, as Ithaqua was too busy checking in with the staff before entering the ballroom.

The ballroom was considerably large, enough for the hundred or so teens that were bound to show up. With the theme of "new beginnings," Ithaqua had expected weird decorations or the sort. (Seriously, why did the school choose such a vague theme?) Regardless, the venue was rather nicely decorated with butterflies and flowers.

"Well, I guess that works." Ithaqua muttered before turning around. He sighed, watching as his brother completely ditched him for his other friends. Unsurprised, yet nonetheless disappointed, he shook his head. Looking around, Ithaqua chose to sit at the table farthest from the dance floor. Being close to the overwhelming music and mass of bodies that would follow it later on would be undesirable.

In the next few minutes, the room filled quite quickly. The chatter of friends and constant movement was followed by colorful fabrics and extravagant outfits, the wearers sometimes needing assistance walking due to that. Although his eyes continuously scored over the crowd, Ithaqua couldn't find you.

Frustrated, he stood up to search for you. Pushing past people while apologizing the whole time, Ithaqua nearly tripped as he tried to step over Vera's dress. Stumbling, he bumped into someone. He quickly grasped their shoulders to prevent either of them from falling, stabilizing both of them.

"Ah! Sorry!"

He blinked in surprise as he finally saw who he bumped into. There, with the lights of the hallway framing their figure like dew hugging the petals of a flower, was you. With the dim lights of the ballroom, you seemingly glowed. His hold on your shoulders tightened as his breath hitched, face flushing as his heart beat out of his chest.

You looked like what love would be if it became a person. The incarnation of perfection, everything he could want and more, yet something he could only have in a dream. Ithaqua could only wonder if this is what Persephone felt like when she first saw pomegranates. A temptation like no other, beckoning with a siren's call to ensnare one's heart and mind. Divine, yet the sure reason for the descent of an angel into hell. 

Well, he was never an angel in the first place, Ithaqua thought. But if he was, and it was for you, he'd gladly scrape his knees falling from grace. 

You weren't just attractive, no, in this moment, you looked absolutely ethereal.

"Ithaqua? Are you alright?" You asked, concern clear upon your face. He cleared his throat awkwardly, removing his hands from your shoulders and stepping back. Quickly recovering, he nodded. Still, his eyes were stuck to you, completely enamored.

"Yeah, perfectly fine. Just, er, surprised. You look, you look good." He stuttered. You looked like you were going to ask questions, so Ithaqua dragged you to the table he'd claimed for the three of you. He pulled out a seat for you before sitting in his own, desperately trying to prevent himself from looking at you.

It was completely and utterly unfair that you, who already was the definition of perfection, just became even more... well, perfect. He was left to scramble for composure while you didn't even look vaguely affected by his appearance. To be fair, he was just wearing a plain old suit, but still.

Ithaqua didn't know if he'd be able to survive the night, and he couldn't decide if this was heaven or hell with how things were going.

-

You didn't understand why Ithaqua was avoiding looking at you, but it stung quite a bit. Admittedly, you'd hoped dressing up would, you know, do the opposite, but that didn't seem to be the case. Maybe he didn't like the colors? Or maybe he thought you looked ugly but didn't want to say it?

Regardless, your mood was worse than before, though you tried to remain cheerful. No matter what, today had to be the day. You had to confess your feelings to Ithaqua once and for all, or else you'd never do it.

Truth be told, you had originally intended to ask him to prom before, but you chickened out. You felt like you were going to die every time you tried, so you ran away each time with the excuse of doing something else. 

You're positive Nathaniel laughed at you every time, that traitor.

With senior year coming to an end, you were left with a sense of dread as the future came rushing at you. Jobs, taxes, education, whatever, you were honestly terrified to face it all. Sure, you'd have people to help you when you stumble, but it's so hard to ask for it. In the first place, this fear isn't necessarily the fear of the future, but the fear of the unknown.

You didn't want to face anything, but you knew you had to. Still, you tried to ignore it.

However, one thing you had to acknowledge was that with the end of your high school year, you'd probably not be able to meet Ithaqua quite as much. You wouldn't be able to go to the arcade with him, laugh as he failed to get the plushie he wanted for the millionth time, or walk in the park while eating ice cream with him.

It left you feeling hollow and cold, the thought of losing him to time and distance devastating. He'd surely be able to make friends with his new classmates, live a good life, and even get a partner. He wouldn't need you.

The thought of him forgetting you made you want to cry. 

You know he isn't the sort to abandon people, and surely he'd never do that to you, but time changes people. It brings new winds, ending things and creating new beginnings. You couldn't help but feel like you'd be left behind as his past, just that one friend he had in high school.

You didn't want this friendship of yours to end, or at the very least, for you to have never admitted you'd felt more for him than that.

He held you when you cried, laughed at you when you fell, picked you up when you needed help, and remained a constant comfort by your side. It was impossible not to fall in love with him.

You never confessed since you always felt like your love would never be returned. Like Mercutio who loved his best friend, who went as far as to die for him, yet would never be able to be with him, a tragic romance of his own.

At the least, you wanted to confess your feelings instead of leaving them unsaid forever. If fate decided to bring him to you, it'll be Ithaqua himself who will decide if he'll bend destiny to his will to stay by your side.

So, when you heard the gentle notes of a slow song start, you took Ithaqua to the dance floor. He seemed surprised, but allowed it as you held his hands. With careful steps, the two of you moved along with the crowd, swaying to the music.

He held you close so you didn't get pulled away, firm yet gentle in his touch. You wanted to tell him now, but with how quiet things were, excluding the music playing in the background, it felt awkward to do so. Another problem was that with Ithaqua so close, you could barely think straight.

By the end of the song, you hadn't accomplished your goal, though you felt considerably better than before. Nervous and shaky, yes, but happier.

You clasped your hands together to try and get them to stop shaking, though it didn't work too well. You purse your lips in displeasure, a frown quickly forming.

"Let's go out to the balcony. It's too stuffy here."

You stared at Ithaqua for a moment before immediately taking his outstretched hand. It was, as one would expect, getting quite stifling with so many people in one room. It didn't help that the floor shook whenever the DJ played a popular song as the crowd jumped up and down. Which was basically 95% of the time.

Stepping out onto the balcony, you take a deep breath. The calm evening wind cools you off considerably, bringing you back to life. Ithaqua seems more at ease, too. You can't help but smile softly as you lean on the ledge, staring at him. 

Ithaqua's eyes are closed as he faces the sky, embracing the fresh air and the freedom of the outdoors. The moon seems to shine on him especially, making him look ethereal. His smile seems gentler, as though he were truly at peace now.

Your heart hammers against your chest as you take another deep breath in, closing your eyes as you try to gather all the courage you can. It all goes down the drain, however, when he opens his eyes.

With him smiling softly, his eyes half-lidded and illuminated by the moonlight, Ithaqua is unfairly attractive, stealing the breath you'd only just taken. You're sure that if anyone were to show you what you looked like right now, you'd look completely love struck.

"I love you."

You can't tell who said it first, but both of you said it for sure. It has your eyes widening in surprise, watching as he does the same. At that moment, it hits you that this whole time, the two of you have been pining for the other.

No wonder Nathaniel was laughing at you.

Regardless, as you stare at each other, finally understanding the other completely, the two of you draw closer. Softly, sweetly, your lips meet, and you know, then and there, that everything will be alright. Even if the inescapable future is marching towards you, you'll have Ithaqua by your side.

That's all you need.

So, you kiss goodbye what feels like the last of your youth, ready to greet the new beginnings of another chapter of your life. After all, it can't be that bad when it also is the start of your new relationship.

-

BONUS SCENE:

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the new voice, whipping around to see Nathaniel with a smug smile. Ithaqua glares at him, a look of pure exasperation and annoyance upon his face. However, the two of you could see the underlying notes of embarrassment as well, his ears tinged a light pink.

“Did you really come out here to tell the equivalent of “I told you so,” Nathaniel?”

“No, actually. I came here to say I am sooooo telling mom and dad.”

“...”

“...so what flowers should I bring to his grave?”

“Don’t even bother, I’m dumping his body into the river.”

“Oh come on I wasn’t being seriou- ITHA WHA- STOP- I’M SORRY! OW!”

“GET BACK HERE NATHANIEL BABEL NORWELL!”

“Ah good old brotherly love!”

“HELP ME!”

[armoredtitanmistress]

𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙦𝙪𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙙 | Toji Fushiguro| fruitions of life

characters: toji fushiguro x gojo!reader, toji zenin x gojo!reader

summary: you can’t expect to enter a garden and come out without getting messy…figuratively.

tags: toji x gojo!reader, gojo’s older sister, pre-star plasma vessel arc/star plasma vessel arc, suggestive language (thanks to Toji, of course), explicit language, symbolism (?), NO SMUT (bare with me y'all you will get it eventually) strangers to friends to ?, fluff, love their dynamic, 2nd person point of view, the first person point of view switches are intentional!

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The stars would have laughed at your relationship. You are close enough to be friends and hold enough attraction for one another to be lovers, but distant enough to be considered strangers. Toji was not far off when he talked to the stars to say that you were in denial about your relationship. This is not to say that Toji understood your relationship any better. Though he was aware that an attraction between the two of you was mutual, he understood his feelings to be simply that, attraction. Very hypocritical of him, if you asked me.

The persona that Toji had created when he entered your garden was a paradox to the life he lived outside of it. You knew only what he would allow you to know. Yes, he was swindling women for money. Yes, he liked to partake in gambling of all forms. Yes, he was a mercenary by trade. None of these “hobbies'' of his were ever explained thoroughly, just a lot of in-between kind of talks. He joked about how different you were from your reputation when you first met. He was an open book, a paperback that if you bent the page to read and didn’t have something to secure in place they’ll just snap closed. If it were put into proper use the years would reveal themselves before you even got to the title page.

I’d describe you to be a hardcover. You were a popular read that any literary aficionado wanted to unravel. Abiding by the rules of commerce, hardcovers cost more than paperbacks. Hardcovers are for appearances while paperbacks are for a proper read. In stark contrast to a paperback, hardcovers don’t advertise their use with their exterior. No, you’d have to flip through and give it the same amount of attention as a paperback. No one would want to do that.

The Toji Zenin who currently was helping you plant some pink camellia in your garden and the stone-cold mercenary that would remain a topic of discussion during debriefings were two distinguishable people in your eyes. I allow myself to believe that the reasoning behind this is that you both presented different personas to one another. Whether they were founded based on your true personas or the fantasy of what could’ve been. To this day, even as the narrator, I do not know.

You watched with your tote bag of gardening supplies perched on your shoulder as the man worked. He had shown up in a black compression t-shirt that did what it was told as you could see his muscles fighting against the shirt's fabric. Any movement he made you would be able to see his muscles contract and pronounce themselves against the shirt. It was a short-sleeve so regardless if it was a compression shirt or not you would be able to see them. He wore these kinds of shirts every time he entered the garden. You didn’t know if this was his everyday attire or if it was a coincidence. Unfortunately, you didn’t mind either reasoning.

“You gonna just stand there and check me out or help me plant this shit?” He asked midway through digging an unnecessarily enormous hole. Though he had been gifted with many physical attributes through this Heavenly Restriction, a green thumb was not one of them; He overwaters the plants, he doesn’t understand the reasoning behind removing weeds, and always accidentally stomps on flowers because of how comically big he is. Yet, you still allowed him to help and still paid him.

Call it charity work.

“I was judging how badly you planted those seeds.” You squatted down beside him, placing your tote bag on the ground before snatching the shovel from him and shoving him away to take over. You inspected his work and huffed, “With that poor eyesight of yours, I should reconsider your qualifications on letting you help me out with the garden. Seriously, how could you possibly think a seed this tiny needs that big of a hole.”

“Speaking from prior experiences?” He quipped, somehow not at all offended by you scrutinizing his work. You were trying to wrap your head around him having the body of a full-fledged adult with the accompaniment of the mind and libido of a pubescent boy. “When you say shit like that you make me think that you’re asking for me to say something out of pocket. I mean you kind of walk right into them, doll.”

Unknowingly is what you wanted to add to his statement. You unknowingly walked into his linguistic traps. You scoff, “How about I do you one better? What if you had something other than sex on your mind, pervert?”

He furrowed his eyebrows and poked a finger into your cheek furrowing your eyebrows but not letting it sway your attention on the flowers.

“Now where’s the fun in that? Life gets boring after a while. You gotta start switching things up before you get to that point.” He asserts, pulling another small shovel from your tote bag to continue tormenting your garden. “Ah, but I guess you’re already there.”

He knocks several decades off your lifespan with his words alone. You shook your head, “This is why I refused to exchange numbers with you. I’d rather keep my dosage of your stupidity to a low.”

“You’ll come around to it.”

He had immoderate confidence.

“You have to be gentle with them. Using that much aggression only leads to unpleasant results. The flowers feel the energy you put out.” You explain as you minimize the hole he made and gently tuck the seed inside of it. It was a philosophy of yours and wasn’t backed by any science. It’s just an observation you’ve made over the years of tending the garden and a philosophy that you’ve integrated into your life.

He wasn’t buying it.

“Bullshit. Flowers are flowers. They are meant to look good no matter how you plant ‘em.” He shifted his eyes to the flowers he planted versus the ones you planted and saw no difference between them. “I wouldn’t even be able to tell who planted what because they look the same.”

You saw where his eyes were and you scoffed at how wrong his statement was. What you were looking at were two very distinct patches of roses. One patch was weed-filled with roses toppling over one another. I don’t think I need to describe it any further for you to understand whose handiwork it was.

“It’s like childbirth. A child made out of love will prosper and continue to flourish on that love. On the other hand, a child who wasn’t won’t stand a chance and wither if it doesn’t have any love to live off of.” Though it was simply an analogy, it held truth in your lives. You and Toji weren’t made out of love. You were made to be exploited. Time and Decay struck a deal with each other and postponed you from withering. Perhaps, a sick twisted bet to see if you’d be salvageable. In your eyes, Love wanted nothing to do with the bet and wanted to let Time run its course. You morbidly bet against yourself; Time will tire itself out eventually and allow Decay to win.

Though the argument on the preservation of flowers would continue to be a disagreement, you had a feeling if you had vocalized that wager between Time and Decay you both would’ve seen eye-to-eye.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you in hell then.” He said as patched the holes you made along the way. You allowed him to help in doing that seeing it’s his expertise when it comes to gardening. You nodded your head in agreement, “Satan would make you your own little island just to get away from you.”

“That so? And what about you, doll? Gonna join me in my solitude. I’m bound to get lonely.” He couldn’t go through one conversation without making it flirtatious.

You’d abide by the routine of it all: he flirts and you deflect. “Obviously I’m going to marry Satan and be the one to give him that plan. I’ll send you sucubus to keep you company.”

“So much for being a friend.”

It had been a few moments of silence and you both didn’t mind it. It was comfortable. However, something had been omnipresent in Toji’s mind, children. Children were a brand new topic. He had known of your stance on marriage. Specifically arranged marriage. It was the reigning topic whenever you’d complain about the meetings between you and the elders. It piqued his curiosity enough to ask, “That little children monologue you did is making me think you want kids. Hate to remind you but that kid of yours would be a Zenin or a Kamo.”

“Out of duty, I have to bear children. Like you said with one of them but…” You stared at the seed packets and the flowers that surrounded you before continuing. “Selfishly, if life were different I think maybe I would still want to have my own.”

“Why even bother with kids? They just come in and ruin shit. Don’t understand what’s so great about them.” He stated, as he furrowed his eyebrows and sported his signature disgusted face.

You enjoyed being around children. They were the purest form of humanity that someone could be. It was the adults around them that corrupted the purity that they were born with. You wanted to preserve as much as you could of it but you weren’t a superhuman. You were just a sorcerer.

“If they are anything like Satoru, I don’t think I’d mind.” I would hope not.

“Yeah?” He asked as he handed you a seed packet that you graciously took offering him a head nod in acknowledgment. “Must mean you got some names thought up.”

“Hmm.” You weren’t paying much attention to him as you were trying to fix the mess he had made. Even though that’s what you were doing, he knew you heard him. You were just dodging the question.

To spite you, he grabbed another small hand shovel and dug up the hole you had just patched. That didn’t do much in stopping as you just patched it up again. Of course, this man was persistent. You both continued the ongoing dig-patch-dig-patch game until you got fed up and snatched the shovel away from him. You turned to reprimand him but his eyes had a Medusa-esque curse for turning you stiff. Knowing he had your attention he asked again, “You’ve thought about having kids enough. You have to have some names picked out.”

You saw his expectant gaze and sighed. You continued what you were doing but replied with your answer nonetheless. “It’s embarrassing to say but I only have one name in mind.”

He shrugged, “That’s one more than I have. Spit it out.”

“Megumi.”

It’s a common name. You can’t live in Japan without knowing at least one Megumi in your life. The absence of originality never hindered its appeal as a name for you. The name itself wasn’t what made it a contender for you but the meaning of it felt the most suitable for a baby. “I think it’s a fitting name. Children are supposed to be considered blessings.”

“Even for a guy?” You nod your head as you finish planting the seed, wiping your hands off with a hand towel you brought with you, “I don’t think it matters as much. The meaning wouldn’t change.”

You handed the towel over to him and he reciprocated your actions before racking a hand threw his hair, “I don’t know if your future kid will think the same way. He’s probably going to plot your death in your sleep.” This is one of the few times I would agree with the man.

“They’ll be more concerned about the life they were born into than their name.” Indeed they would be.

“What about you? Never thought about having a miniature you before?” You prompted as you got up to get the watering can that was nearby. “I’m hoping the answer is no.”

“Fuck no.” He barked out a laugh. Children were the last thing on his mind. He watched as you leaned down to grab and turn on the hose, “I’m barely surviving on my own. A kid would only add to the expenses and the shit I have to worry about. I use condoms and never go to the same place twice for that reason.”

“Ever thought of just practicing celibacy? Feel like it is a far less risky option than whatever you just said” You suggest as you shrug your shoulders and begin filling the can with water. Your suggestion was supposed to be rhetorical. In all honesty, you hoped he would just change the topic afterward but to your dismay, he hadn’t.

He planted his hands behind him and used them to position himself, “Once you experience what it’s like to be inside a pussy for the first time, you don’t go back.” You were convinced he didn’t have any words other than those that could be considered raunchy. “You’ll understand once some small dicked Kamo knocks you up on your Wedding day.”

You had half the mind to redirect the hose to splash that smirk off his face. The topic of first times came up once and you had told him that you were a virgin. You told him to never bring it up again but this was Toji we were talking about.

He noticed the grip you had on the hose and you didn’t know how he could extend his lips to curve to the extent they did as he continued his debauched tangent, “Sex is something people use to get rid of stress. You could benefit from that. Wouldn’t want my dear friend to get a full head of gray hair by the age of 21.” His head tilted towards your head, “Guess you already kind of have that going for ya don‘tcha? With the white hair and all.”

“I could just drown you with this water and I wouldn’t feel a damn thing.” You pointed out, letting the gesture of you shaking the water from the hose against the ground.

He suited mercenary work not only for his physical prowess and instincts. His audacity was a core component of his trade. It became obvious the level of audacity he had as he permitted his green eyes to stay fixed on your legs, “I would prefer you’d let me suffocate in between your thighs. I’d get you so wet I wouldn’t even try to come back for air.”

The half of the mind became all the mind. It was all a blur in the moment. One second the water is being directed to the water can and the next you are pointing it directly to Toji. When you realized what you had done, all you saw was a drenched Toji making his way toward you. “I can’t be the only one that's wet, baby.” He didn’t allow for any room for you to register the new nickname before he wrapped his arms around your torso and you were lifted off of the ground.

“Toji! Let go of me, you big oaf!” You pleaded with the man to let you down but he remained indifferent. He was treating your body like a rag doll —- twisting you left and right, up and down, and making sure that you are fully accosted to the same wet fate that you had graciously gifted him.

You were slamming your fists into his chest and it felt like punching a concrete wall. You, a user of the Limitless Technique with the ability to repel this man away but you momentarily forgot. You were too caught up in the idea that your clothes had molded to your figure due to the water in the same way it had for Toji.

Contrary to how careful you had been to not get any dirt on you, Toji treated the dirt that spread throughout his clothes in the same manner as the blood that would occasionally stain his clothes. He didn’t bother with it. Resulting in not only naturally tailored form-fitting clothing but also mud stains.

You were wearing a kimono, a staple piece for you. It lacked many potent colors like pink or red. Your mother preserved her looks as much as she did yours. She instilled into you that cool tones emphasized your physical features. Whenever you’d explore outside of that color spectrum a slew of passive-aggressive comments from her end.

Her comments on cool tones applied to your entire intermediate family. Remembering that you sobered up.

“Put me down! I can’t go looking like this!” Of course, you were referring to another event. You felt his hands sink further into your waist and hoisted you further up causing you to brace yourself with his shoulders. “Live a little. Just skip it.”

With how he had you positioned, you would need to look down to see him, which you did when you looked at him as if he had committed blasphemy and retorted, “Have you lost your mind?! I can’t just do that!”

Toji hated a lot of things; losing bets, women who kept in contact, employers who gave him half-ass pay, and jujutsu society. Though he didn’t hate anything about you, he did bear a hard distaste for how obedient you were when it came to the Elders. He scoffed at your words, “Says who? The elders? They could kiss my ass for all I care. It’s gonna be another event where you’re just there to look pretty. Have some fun, doll. I wasn’t lying about the gray hair.”

His words held merit and if he had used more persuasive language the possibility of you missing the event would have been higher. However, it wasn’t enough.

“Fine, I’ll let you go but only if you give me your number.” He proposed, halting the man made rollercoaster he had created.

You thought about it. There were plenty of cons to giving him your number that outweighed the pros. You were too fed up to care for it.

“Fine.”

He did as told and put you down but made quick with pulling out a grey Nokia flip phone that has seen its share of fights based on its condition. He handed it to you with the Create New Contact page open. You weren’t one to agree to things without following through so you held up your end of the deal. You were typing in your number when a text came through on his phone. He wouldn’t be able to know since the phone was on silent but you saw the text.

Sui Kong:

New job in Miyagi. Meet me at the usual spot. 10 million on this one.

Once you were done you handed it back. He hadn’t seen the message and you didn’t want to comment on seeing it. He was more focused on trying to get you to pull out your phone.

You shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest, “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

Another thing he doesn’t like about you. He groaned, “Do you always have to be so square?”

It wouldn’t kill you to be, you thought to yourself before you caved and searched for your phone before begrudgingly giving it to him. He inputted his phone number and said, “Well you’ve got shit to do, so I say let’s just call it a day.”

“Right.” Nothing compared to what he would have to do. You gathered all your things into your tote bag and were going to leave in silence as you usually do but you didn’t.

“Treat me to a nice dinner afterward.”

He would leave confused but understand what you’re referring to when he sees the message. You would have already been at the event socializing with the guests when you’d receive the message.

Unknown Number:

It’s a date.

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let me know in the replies if you guys want to be tagged in future chapters!

[invinciblerodent]

and another very small, very minor entry on the list of Things I'm Getting Just a Tiny Little Bit Miffy About Seeing Repeated (Not Angry Just Ever So Slightly Annoyed)TM:

dnd elves do, in fact, mature at the same rate humans do. they're not "like children" or "not considered full adults" until they hit 100- not to anyone other than other, older elves.

like I get where the thought comes from, I fully understand it, I've read many of the source materials myself, I've read Mordenkainen's and see where the misunderstanding comes from, but... to a human, or a tiefling, or anyone else shorter-lived than an elf, a 50-, 60-, 90-year-old elf is just like a 50-, 60-, 90-year-old of their own race would be. they just look much younger than their age, and act in accordance with their personality, which is.... much less tied to someone's age than many may think. (I mean, have you never met a 50-year-old who seems just staggeringly immature? a 20-year-old who is wiser than their years would allow? have you never been to a retail establishment???????)

it's only the other elves who view a younger one as emotionally immature, and that's mainly because they have yet to bury their first generation of friends and loved ones: something a shorter-lived person only has to do once, while elves may very well go through several cycles of that in one lifetime. They have also not yet had their Drawing of the Veil, when they stop being able to access primal memories, memories of their soul's previous lives, but it's mainly the "all my once-powerful and vibrant friends are now frail and dying from old age, and yet here I remain, as young, strong, and beautiful as the day they met me, untouched by the inexorable crawl of time, what is mortality, what is death" thing.

if the people of Faerun in general thought of a 40-year-old elf as immature, as if they were a child, Astarion would have just patently not been an appointed civil administrator and judicial officer (which is what a magistrate is) 200 years ago. like he could have of course been lying when he said that that's what he was, but taking it as the once-truth, nobody would have let someone they see as a child fill such a position of responsibility. It was, however, a perfectly mundane thing for a learned adult man, such as he was, to do. (what he may or may not have done with the power he allegedly had, the kind of person he was, and whether letting him have power was the right move overall, is pretty much completely irrelevant at this juncture. corrupt officials exist regardless of age, just look at the judicial system of any country today.)

an older elf like Halsin, their maturity is not just on a different level, it's measured by a different metric than that of a shorter-lived character.

it's hard to accurately roleplay or grasp something like this with our human minds, none of us have ever spoken to a 300-year-old after all, but.... a 100-year-old elf is not a "young adult", unless you're an elf yourself. If you're a human, they're just... an adult.

[dootznbootz]

I absolutely love your head canons about Water Wife™️, but I’m curious about what head canons you have for Odysseus (aka. #1 Water Wife™️ simp) 🤔

I have so manyyyyyyyy!!! :D

For both, of course, and I'm not even done with Penelope never will be There's some I probably have mentioned before but bleh :D I'll put it out anyways.

Odysseus is a "pretty boy" and he's able to balance "masculine" and "feminine" beauty perfectly and he knows it and uses it. (When you're aspec, you tend to "study" what makes people "pretty". To understand it as, "What's the big deal?". That's what he does) I knew someone in theatre who when playing different characters for acting, the more "sweet and goofy" one (Seymour, Little Shop of Horrors) and the "rugged, handsome" one (Prince from Into the Woods) and he looked like different people and realized it was because he was able to really shift his jaw around and also just really expressive and Odysseus USES this. ALL the time. Paris is a more feminine pretty boy while Menelaus is a more masculine pretty boy but Odysseus is a perfect in-between. (Paris and Menelaus are definitely prettier than him in a way but yeah >:D Homer doesn't stfu about Odysseus and he had multiple people wanting him. When he didn't want anyone but Penelope)

What "mars" his beauty is that Odysseus bites at his lips a lot. Usually chapped and ripped up.

I kind of plan for it to be kind of unknown whether Sisyphus or Laertes is his dad. He REALLY takes after his mom in so many ways. He's a lil jealous of Ctimene as while both take after Mom, she has Dad's nose and eye color. It's something that means a lot to him that his dad loves him regardless. And it REALLY bothers him when people try and bring up Sisyphus being his dad. It makes him sincerely happy seeing Tyndarius loving all his kids even though there's a CLEAR difference on who's whose. (Omfg imagine if he could talk to his mom about Calypso and Circe as what she went through with Sisyphus 😭Maybe Penelope trying to get advice from Laertes!!!)

He actually couldn't really grow a beard until after the war for whatever reason :D he was just kind of pretty smooth-shaven (not shaven but just no beard til later). Penelope teases him about it and when she does he rubs his face against hers.

He tries to say his favorite poems/epics/myths are the ones of Heracles but it's actually Psyche's myth. Not giving up because you're so devoted? That you want to see your person/people again?? RINGING ANY BELLS. (Also Baucis and Philemon, because Xenia is very important to him and to grow old with his love to then get turned into olive trees together?? That's his LIFE GOAL.)

I really love the thought of him and Eumeaus being super close. Like he actually wasn't that close to Polites and Eurylochus until mid-teens but Eumeaus was raised beside him and Ctimene.

Demisexual/demiromantic/aspec: Like he didn't really get it until Penelope, at least not fully. And then he's just hit by a truck. They were in the garden when they first met (no details yet! But she just knocks him on his ass) and there were beehives and beekeepers around and he turns so red and is so gobsmacked that Penelope freaked out thinking he was stung by a bee and was dying. (being Naiad she's dealt with this before) I wouldn't say "love at first sight" as he didn't really think anything until she called him out.

Mentioned before, but the Boar scar caused fertility issues. He's...very ripped up. He blames his asexuality/demisexuality on it and it's a surprise that he can run so well (Hermes' descendant and Athena saved him...just not "all of him".) Penelope had some fertility issues too (she has a lot of siblings so she's really sad about it) but he always took the blame and always made a point of "I won't take a concubine. I don't want one and I'm the reason why we can't have children. It wouldn't change anything." Though his leg does get stiffer in joints and the skin is tight when he's older. Water Wife™ helps with that. :D

Since it took a while before they had Telemachus, he had... a lot of toys made in preparation even though it took awhile. Crib too but wasn't used for a while. Telemachus luckily has many keepsakes and gifts from his dad :') and yes he carried them everywhere. (There was a branch off their "nest" that Telemachus messed around on too much when he was around 8 and it broke :'). When Odysseus comes back, Telemachus is ashamed and says sorry and Odysseus is just happy he wasn't hurt. (OUCHIE)

He actually had the Trojan horse idea for YEARS (like year 5) but everyone thought it was "dishonorable" and he was SO MAD. (also yeah, he remembered all the toys he made his son and that's how he got the idea) It is a "TOLD YOU SO!" moment when they win.

One thing I love about him is that he really is "all or nothing" in many ways. or a "0 to 100 very quickly". He does NOT let even minor insults slide. He goes all out and over the top for the people he loves and the people he hates. like, he DOES care. He loves as much as he hates. Like he's an asshole but there's always a reason (honestly I think he does have his rules. and they ARE consistent I think. probably will write an essay on it soon)

Honestly, I know a lot of people think "oh familiar stranger" when they get back and yeah, they look so different but they still think the same in many ways. Homer ends with them still being like-minded. I think Penelope and Odysseus had the feeling of "feels like there was almost no years of separation" as they can be in-sync and "are like they were before". They're older, wiser, but he still does the funny voice that makes her laugh. She's still ticklish on her neck. So much is the same. It'll be fun to learn what's different.

Except the PTSD.

And Odysseus is basically just trying to force himself to be "normal". He's bottling things up but not pushing away. Some war stuff he's shared as there were games and some fun stories (also not as recent) But he doesn't share Circe or Calypso with Penelope at first. And he definitely doesn't want Telemachus to know. But he's not pushing away. If anything he wants them even closer than ever. And doesn't really like them being away from him.

He usually has to be the one to make "first contact" or "first touch" (don't go up behind him...ever) but he is very physically affectionate so...kind of works.

Though it saddens Penelope, as this is all Telemachus knew, he's not too affected. As to him, Odysseus is already so loving and wonderful to him and so he just sees his moments of war flashbacks and fear and his violent outbursts against others are just... Dad. He knows it's strange but no one's perfect. He's fine most of the time otherwise. He kisses his and his mother's cheeks and is trying to learn pottery from him. But Penelope knows this is not normal. Plus he's sharing some things with her that he would rather keep hidden from Telemachus forever.

Before she could always just hold him and basically do whatever and he melts. She now needs to go slow and always give some sort of warning. He usually meets her halfway, so that helps. Something he did before but...There is so much lost and that needs time.

Slowly reaching her hand out to his face? He grabs it and leans into it. She didn't need to go slow before. She opens her arms? He flops into it. Before, she could've grabbed his hand and basically pulled him into her.

He always has to be in control now and he's mad at himself for it.

"That's your son. Why did your son's joyful shouts make you think of the screams of the young men in war. Your son is fine. There's no war here. You made sure of that. That's your wife. Your wife that you've longed for 20 fucking years and you still wake up weeping and think you're with the goddesses again. Hold her. Let her hold you. Stop crying. Let her hold you. That's what you want."

He's like a cat who digs their claws into you to keep you to them. He's angry at himself for getting scared/upset and...in a way HAS to let it be known that even though he's a mess, he NEEDS them. Always has.

He can't be the little spoon anymore. He can't have her sleep/rest on top of him anymore. He can lay on her and be the big spoon but as he was basically a "doll" for Calypso and manipulated and tricked by Circe, there are certain things he can't have done to him. If he gets in his funks, he sometimes has to have it where he holds her and she's completely still before he gives her the go-ahead to hold/touch him in return. Sometimes he has to quiz her questions only she would know. And then he just cries. He won't talk about it for a while. :')

As he and Laertes shared some of the same "adventures" with the same beings, they bond over that :D Also, with his older cousin Jason? "I don't like him. >:( He always would fuck up my hair by messing with it."

In their Early marriage, they tried each other's "hobbies". Aka Odysseus tried weaving and Penelope tried woodcarving. Two of their most prized possessions is a fucking ugly wooden duck and a little blanket that is uneven and has some holes in it. When he doesn't see his blanket next to her duck when he returns, he's worried and a bit sad but then Penelope reveals that she sleeps with it :') the dye is faded and some parts are clearly rewoven so it won't fall apart.

[writing-blocked-me]

A Lost Chance

CW: Angst, betrayal, PM!Dazai, Dark Era Spoilers!, Mafia stuff ig?

Pairings: Akutagawa x reader, Platonic!Oda x reader

Author's note: A little OOC sorry! I don’t think I’ve really got Akutagawa down yet in terms of character.  Trying to expand beyond writing just for Dazai and Chuuya - though I have loads more fic ideas for them! 

Anyway hope you enjoy :)

You had been with the Port Mafia ever since you could remember.  Kouyou had recruited you at a young age, seeming seeing, as she put it, “a darkness in you akin to the flower of darkness being nurtured in me.”  She trained you and showed you how to flourish in the darkness.  You’d never questioned it; never asked why.

You took it all in stride, stayed in the darkness and even became comfortable there.  Making friends in the mafia was easier than it sounded.  Despite it being a criminal organisation, there were surprisingly many people your age.  The Akutagawa siblings were surprisingly who you’d grown closest to over the years.  Although each of you trained under different executives, in different factions of the organisation,  you became really close.  

Ryunosuke in particuar you felt you gravitated to.  He was angry and brash, so desperate to prove himself to Dazai as strong that he was often blinded to things around him.  However, you  admired how driven he was and how hard he worked.  Though, he wasn’t always so rage-fuelled.  Sometimes he could be gentle and sweet, especially when it came to Gin.  He was always soft and considerate of his sister and protective of her as well.  It was incredibly sweet.  

He was also soft with you, and just as protective of you as he was of Gin.  He had grown fond of you, as you’d pretty much grown up together.  You always stuck by him and seen his worth even when Dazai did not.  You were one of the few people he completely trusted and allowed himself to open up to.  It was not until his early teens when he realised he was falling for you, or rather, until Gin realised and told him.  He was never good with his emotions, often acting on whims, usually in violence or anger.

However, unknown to the Black-Fanged Hellhound of the Port Mafia, you were just as smitten with him.  Though, on your side you were aware of his short temper and inability to confront any emotions outside of the negative.  So, you were content to wait until he was ready for the next step in your relationship.  You had always been content within the darkness of the mafia’s walls.

Until you weren’t. 

When you met Oda Sakunoske, it was supposed to be a simple job.  You were there as extra muscle and firepower during what was later called the Dragon’s Head Conflict.  You were only 14 at the time and so had been kept out of the main action.  Though the mafia was desperate, so still they sent you in.  That’s where you first saw him.  Picking up any stragglers he could find, rescuing children and protecting them from the conflict.  He seemed determined to keep the kids out of the darkness - a concept completely mysterious to you.  At first you had been confused, but curious.

The second time you met him was when you sought him out.  He had sparked your curiosity and you wanted to know more.  You hung around with him; you asked him questions.  He always gave you the same blunt answers about wanting to help the kids.  He showed them kindness, a kindness that stemmed from light.  You had never been exposed to light before Oda; it was then that he opened the door for you, leading to light.

From then on, you had decided to help him, to be more kind.  You would look after the orphans when he was gone too long on mafia jobs and contribute to their living costs.  Eventually, they began to see you as an older sibling and, eventually, you became very attached to them.

Regardless of how kind you were when it came to the kids, you never forgot where you worked, where you believed you belonged.  In the darkness.  You continued to work as a member of the mafia, alongside your friends.  You still cared for the Akutagawa siblings, still infatuated with Akutagawa, though you now attempted to prevent any excessive violence he attempted.  Life went on with only a few changes.

It was when you were 16 that Akutagawa finally told you he loved you.  He had just had an intense training session with his mentor and he returned to his and Gin’s shared abode battered and bruised, coughing and spluttering.  You had already been there, waiting for one or both of the siblings to show up to hang out, when he walked through the door.  You stood up to help him, only for him to fall on top of you, sending you both to the floor with a thud.  You gently rolled him off of you and rushed to get the med kit before tending to his injuries.  

It was then that he realised he did not want to lose you, you who treated him with respect and love, who showed him his worth was not just based on Dazai’s opinion of him, who reassured him of his strength when he believed himself weak.  He had been aware of his feelings for you before, but now he had no choice but to act on them and let you know of his feelings.  So he told you.  He communicated exactly how he felt, as he placed a soft kiss on top of your forehead, thanking you for loving him andf taking care of him. That was the beginnign of your wonderful and short-lived relationship as lovers.

The two of you remained professional as ever within the realm of the mafia, but outside you were much less hard and cold.  Akutagawa was warm and loving, though he showed it in his own way, and you in turn took care of him.  He had never been taken care of before, not like the way you did - intimately and without any sign of disgust or regret.  You loved him and he loved you, and, though you had been exposed to the light, you were content to live in this realm of darkness if it meant the two of you could keep on loving one another.

And then everything fell apart.

Akutagawa had stormed into the room furious one day, frustrated at the new enemy, Mimic, and his lack of usefullness to his mentor, the Demon Prodigy.  He had ranted about Dazai and how he had reprimanded him for botching the trap he had set up.  He went on and on about how Dazai’s friend was so much better than him.  Placing your hands around his, you attempted to calm him down, to no avail, as he shook your hands off and got even more worked up.  This time, however, his anger turned towards you.  He had never been angry at you before, not seriously anyway, not like he was then, with fiery rage burning in his eyes, brows scrunched together and lips tightly pursed together.  He had yelled at you, blamed you for making him weak, for allowing him to be soft, to let down his guard.  He screamed and shouted about how without you he would finally be strong, Dazai would finally recognise him as strong. 

Eyes full of tears and withou response, you sidestepped the mafioso and stormed past him.  You would not hear him say those things, although you knew that his anger was not truly directed at you, but it still hurt to listen to the boy you loved berating you.  You were aware of his lack of control over his emotions from the start, you just needed some time to cool down, and to let him cool down.

It was a couple days since your fight with Akutagawa when it happened.  You had thought he was going to visit you, but he simply still needed time.  Ryunosuke regretted lashing out and losing control, but he didn’t know how to make it right, so he opted to leave you alone, deciding until he could figure out how to fix it, he would let you have your space.

That was his mistake.

The news of the mafia’s success defeating mimic, whilst also attaining a permit allowing the mafia to legally operate with Gifted individuals.  However, few knew how it had been done.  You had been celebrating on with Gin in your apartment after hearing the news.  It was only when they left, late that night, that you started asking youself the questions of “who”, “what”, “where”, “when” and “why”.  That’s when you heard a knock at the door.  There stood the Demon Prodigy himself, Dazai Osamu, eyes slightly puffy, though his attempts to conceal it was commendable.  

You had met him a few times throughout your time in the mafia, through missions and jobs.  However, your interactions grew slightly more after meeting Oda.  You were aware of their odd friendship and that Oda trusted him, considering him a true, genuine friend.  That said, your respect for him was only for him as a superior, given your relationship to his pupil.  You were wary of the man at the door, unsure of why he would seek you of all people out, why he would come at such a late hour. 

“Odasaku is gone.”

It was the only thing he said before he dragged himself into your apartment, plonking himself down on your couch.  

Your ears rang with the words, your face displaying obvious disbelief.  He couldn’t be gone, that couldn’t be true, right? But you knew that Dazai would not be in your presence if it was fake. Your mind raced, what would you do without your mentor of light? What would the kids do? You hadn’t even thought about them yet, how would you break the news...

“They’re gone too.” 

As if reading your mind, Dazai lifted his head.  He recounted the events of Oda’s death to you and the death of the orphans.  As he spoke, he stared at the wall, it was apparent how desperate he was not to cry.  He looked almost innocent as the sorrow crossed his face. He turned to you.

“I’m leaving the mafia.  His last wish was for me to do something good, to live in the light and help people.  He asked if I could bring you with me.”

The former Demon Prodigy extended his hand to you, an invitation.  

And, without looking back, to honour the person you most looked up to, you took it.

Akutagawa knocked on your door.  One. Two. Three times.  No response.  You hadn’t been seen in days, he came to check on you.  The rest of the mafia was busying themselves with finding the former executive, now suspected traitor, but all he could think of was you.  He was finally ready to patch things up, ready to tell you how sorry he was.  Another knock.  No response again, so he busted down your door.  He’d apologise later but he had to talk to you first.  

Your apartment was empty, blank and cold - nothing like the warm environment it had been while you lived there.  Akutagawa tore through the apartment, room by room, still no sign.  You were gone.  

You had left and taken with you the last part of his soul that was not rage and despair.

[sungbeam]

spread some love !

talk about your favourite mutuals and why you like them

hi anon! thanks for sending this in :') im always so bad at posting these things, but i can def do this one. i don't know if i would classify them specifically as favorites, but more so people i've interacted with the most 😭

@justalildumpling : i don't even need to go on besides saying that this woman is my soulmate. "in another life" but we're gonna beat the universe and meet in every life, type of connection. the girl who has seen me at my worst and has still treated me with as much kindness and compassion and care as she did the first time. i feel like in certain ways, we're kind of polar opposites, but also the same? i mean, on paper we can be so different, but when we talk abt what we like and dislike, when we laugh together, it all becomes something of the same and she restores my faith in other people again. she's the person who constantly makes me want to be a better person.

@ethereal-engene : one of my two beloved 姐姐's on this site skfnrknf but i remember talking to ash so many nights abt just any and everything. i am so happy that we're comfortable enough to be able to joke around, share our niche interests, have deep conversations, and even pen pal!! like i think it's crazy how SIMILAR our families are; we could legitimately be long lost sisters haha but also the blood of the covenant runs thicker than the water of the womb sometimes, so that makes sense. she's one of my comfort people, and honestly, i feel like we both come out of nowhere with some topics, but either person will hop right into the convo regardless and just vibe 🤧

@winterchimez : my second 姐姐 on this site !! my older sisters def take care of me well and i am so grateful for that :')) ally is always so supportive and yet so energergizing to talk to. she's def seen a lot of my brainstorming and i feel very comfortable bouncing ideas off her. she's always so generous with me too, like care packages??? RAH 😭 obviously, i love her for reasons besides the material goods, but it's a love language nonetheless. ally is prob one of the warmest and most welcoming presences on this hellsite tbh, so if ur ever looking for a new friend/mutual, she's the best.

@loveliestfelix : nana is another reason why im still around. i like to thank that beomgyu drabble every day for kickstarting our friendship because i have never met someone i have had such lengthy and fun brainstorming sessions with. nana is the type of person i would love to meet irl and just share stories over coffee with, though i feel like i always associate her with train rides and coffee now HAHA she's also one of my greatest writing inspirations, like i was and have always been blown away by her mind, and her word counts. i love calling her the queen of angst, and you will never be disappointed when reading something of hers.

@jaehunnyy : chip's been here for a really long time, like guys, no one can compete when she's been here since i had park jisung as my pfp and she had jeno as hers 😭 i think i really treasure our friendship and how much it's grown over the past two years :')) so much has happened over that time, and i think that if i met her in real life, i would just be blown away by how pretty she is like TT anyways,, i always love talking to her because of how much chaotic energy we create when we do, like i feel like we can power an entire city grid with how much chaos we make, and it's all the better for it. i love her very much, and i hope she understands just how wonderful of a person and friend she is.

@mosviqu : oh, my beloved bar, i love u to bits and pieces. i think recently you've become one of the few reasons why im still here writing and posting. like i am so utterly, from the bottom of my heart, grateful for all of your support and the love you've given and shown me. and even when we moved to dms to converse, i just realized how cool you are as a person, and how similar we are (in the best way possible). it's really nice to be able to connect with a person on multiple levels, and im really happy that was the case with us :') as soon as i saw ur love for tomorrow by chanyeol, i knew there would be something more to our friendship. i am so very fond of you, and your writing blows me away every time i read it.

@zzoguri : moni :( i hope ur doing well, friend, and i know you haven't been active here lately but i do wish you all the best. i love how passionate and committed you are to improving in writing and developing your own creative writing style, and it's so impressive to read your writing in general :') i love the confidence you advocate for yourself, and how real you are. thanks so much for being a friend; i just really appreciate all the support and hype you've given me during my time on deobiblr, like thank you for being such a thoughtful person.

@wuahae : cat and i have definitely interacted more off this site than on this site, but i felt that it was dire she was included here nonetheless. like bro, thank you for literally being the reason i come out of my apartment (or in most cases, invite people to my apartment), and for thinking of me! i think i once told you how hard it is to find friends in college, but you've made my experience here far less lonely. i love getting dinner with you, planning outings, and making weird animal noises together on the streets 😭 also, cat's writing is literally so poetic, and just her explaining to me her plot ideas tears visceral reactions out of me TT

@yunhoszn : i feel like me and fawn are low-key on the same wavelength a lot of the times, but in general, i think fawn's just such a rad person. i've told her once or twice before but i genuinely love her writing style because it has so much personality in it. it just makes reading her fics such a fun and enjoyable experience. also even off this site, i have so much fun interacting with her, like just commenting on her instagram posts like the gremlin i am, i know she's gonna hit me with the best response back skfnkejd (waiting for the day i go to where u r so u can do my makeup low-key... ur so fly, pls do my makeup...)

@goldenhypen : em, my lovely twin :')) i know our interactions have def decreased, but i don't think that's decreased the fondness we hold for one another. i remember when em first started interacting with my works and then followed me, i literally rolled off the couch cuz i started fangirling 😭 and she is one of the most genuine and brightest presences here. she is a follow forever, bro, you better follow her forever. i just adore her compassion for others and her absolutely adorable fic concepts, and omg don't even get me started on her work ethic 😭 i wished u the best everyday you had requests, i don't know how u did it. you are literally superhuman.

@hqrana : i haven't spoken with noa in quite awhile, but im guessing it's cuz she's girlbossing her way through to that nursing program 🤧 my favorite woman in stem girl in this hellsite, she is my beloved xnonie 😭 i think i just appreciate noa's undeniable presence and character so much, like she brings so much energy to my inbox whenever she's here, and her support of my ideas and fics just makes me 🙇🏻‍♀️ like thank you for being here. and to know we both love marvel and taylor swift? i feel like she has to be like,, my best friend? like she needs to be my best friend?? sending hugs and well wishes your way, always.

[theundeadsnake]

Hello if you're comfortable can you do a offenderman x reader where the reader has magic involving dolls (dress in lolita fashion,carries around a porcelain doll, anyone exposed to her magic becomes a doll-like creature)?

Hiya, thank you for this ask, I had a lot of fun working on it and hope you enjoy it :) If you have any more requests, please let me know and sorry for the delays

Some may describe you two as a classic good-girl bad-boy combo. On one hand, there is you, a beautifully dressed lady, adorned with lace and ruffles, carrying a cute classic and yet historic little artifact. A porcelain doll, a piece of history that picked in the 1940s. Many will wonder how you have kept such a wonderful item in such excellent condition despite its years.

On the other hand, there is him, a horrifying looking criminal with sharp piercing teeth and an outgoing attitude that just screams “power” and “confidence.”

You will catch his gaze in an instant. His mind will begin to wonder and curiosity – it’s not often that someone manages to stand out so well against the crowd. An entity his age has met countless beings with their own individual little quirks.

But you are a whole new cup of tea for him. Oddly enough, he won’t be able to lose his focus. Have you perhaps placed a spell on him?

Either way, he will court you in a very respectful manner. Thinking you to be someone weak, feeble, and frail

But oh, how wrong is he?

Offender will learn that you are not to be underestimated. The first time someone decides to mess with you he will see you work your magic. So quickly and efficiently that he is barely able to comprehend what is going on before it’s all over.

And that’s how the wheels in his head will behind turning. For the first time in centuries, he will be baffled.

There is you, the passionate adorable darling of his that he has been unable to stay away from, in fear of you getting hurt. But then there is also you, the girl with the power to turn anyone into a doll-like creature.

Some people can’t exactly stand seeing their partner differ from what they expected, but his interest in you will absolutely increase. While this monstrous being, will love their partner to the fullest regardless of whether they have some kind of a power, not having to worry about your safety too much will definitively bring his worries a lot.

Has your porcelain doll always been a doll?

How did you discover your passion? Your powers? Offender has a lot of questions for you, though he won’t bombard you with them at once.

Instead, he will talk with you about your interests, in-depth and at length. Happily chiming in, asking questions, and generally getting to know you more and more with time. Lolita fashion is something he will be learning a lot about both from you and his own research.

That interest of yours and commitment to your inner self is what drew him to you. It will absolutely get you two even closer.

Offender will go from being ignorant, clueless, and barely able to keep up with you, to being able to engage you at a proper level.

Other than conversing with you, he will absolutely do all he can to help you engage in your hobbies. He will go shopping with you, help you pick out incredible pieces, and even teleport you anywhere you want to go. Would you like to visit Harajuku? Visit a wonderful café? Or maybe spend some time indoors exploring your passion?

Whatever you hear desires, your criminal will go out of his way to try to fulfill.

[yoonzinhoe]

pretty u ; vernon x reader

DETAILS theme: kilig, confession, fluff....just so much fluff,,,, au: college students, upperclassman!vernon, sophomore!reader ___

"Let's go out tonight?"

You shot your roommate a 'really?' look. "In the middle of the week before the week of exams, really?"

"I seriously want you to say that sentence and hear yourself again," she retaliated, rolling her eyes. "You're always in here lately,” she groaned, “you need a life!"

You shook your head, turning your head back to you readings. Your roommate, Kim always had it easy, being smart and all, even if she crammed the night before the test she'd probably still end up on top, or she wouldn't, well, either top or second top.

Regardless, it'd be better not to lose 3rd place, so—

Clack.

Your thoughts where interrupted by a faint tap coming from your university dorm window.  Kim put her eyeliner pen down, sending a look over to the window and then to you, which you responded to with a shrug and a dismissive wave.

Her shoulders fell with a short sigh, walking towards the window. You noticed her eyes widen and a smile slowly form on her face as she tilted her head towards you as if she knew a secret.

"Dude, what?" You deadpanned.

Putting a hand on her mouth and the other on her hip, she replied teasingly, "Oh my God, you're gonna love this."

With yet another eyeroll you finally got off your desk, shutting your readings close and walking towards Kim. "Are you kidding me right now? I have like a paper due tomorrow and org work to finish and oh my God you're not even listeni—" you felt her fingertips on your chin as she groaned and forced your gaze out the window and down to the pavement, where a trio of upperclassmen in your department stood playfully gazing  back— two of them on bicycles and one without.

You recognized the one without a bike first— Lee Chan, a blockmate of yours. Chan was known to many as ‘Dino’ so as not to confuse him with another Lee Chan in your grade. He always seemed to be surrounded by upperclassmen (they’re friends maybe?) and you remembered feeling sorry for him most of the time because he was probably being bullied for lunch money or homework answers or some other ridiculous crap. He was nice and friendly, though.

Boo Seungkwan made circles around him, poking him in the ribs occasionally to piss him off. Seungkwan was popular for his event hosting skills. Oftentimes he was selected to conduct culminating activities, but he was more oftenly requested to sing.

When Seungkwan finally got out of the way you met eyes with Choi Hansol.

Vernon.

An upperclassman of yours who was often seen reading in the library either dead alone or with 12 other people messing around him. There was no in between.

Vernon was always kind to you— you knew each other from the Literature Club and the English Society Organization along with Hong Joshua. There were multiple occasions wherein Vernon would come to your dorm or approach you at lunch to notify you of what you missed during the meetings you'd skip due to org overload, and even more occasions where he'd just recommend a good book.

It was funny. Anyone who had ever talked to Vernon could always confirm that he wasn't a talker. He wasn't necessarily antisocial but he was just a little more quiet when he wasn't with his friends. However your encounters with Vernon were always different, though, and you could complain about how he could talk your ear off if he really wanted to.

If you didn’t enjoy his chatterbox self, at least.

He waved at you, gesturing for you to come downstairs, and you smiled.

Kim smiled, turning her head, quirking a brow, and scoffing teasingly, "Oh my God??"

"Shut up Kim," you retaliated, clipping your hair up and putting on your university hoodie. You grabbed some tinted sunscreen and lipbalm to apply on the way down.

"I'm in literal tears you like him so much," Kim cackled, racing you to the door to milk the moment.

"Shut up actually!" you yelled back, swiping your phone off the dining table of your dorm. You turned to Kim, "I'll be back in a bit,"

"Take your time," she chortled with a shrug and surrendering hands,.

As the door shut behind you you couldn't stop the smile building up on your face any longer, looking forward to maybe another book recommendation or something-- to be honest, you felt kind of happy to see him out of the blue. Running down the stairs, you spread a drop of the sunscreen on your face before lightly patting to lock it in, hurriedly smoothing the lipbalm over your lips. 

You made sure to quickly check your reflection in the mirrored glass surface before you opened up the door, only to be greeted by Vernon's sweet smile, he looked up shyly, "Hi."

"Hi, what's up?" you replied nonchalantly and totally not out of breath at all. You noticed Dino snicker behind him before Seungkwan pushed him away, hitting him with the palm of his hand ("Ah! Ah! Hyung what the hell?!" he'd yell, "We talked about this earlier?? Literally go! Go, go already!").

Vernon glanced at them and then you, gesturing to go somewhere. "Come with me to the playground?"

You smiled, eyebrows raised and a shiver down your spine, “In this cold? How do I know you aren’t going to kill me or something.”

"I think you know what I have to lose if I did that." He chuckled before swinging a leg over his bike, "Hop on," 

You looked away, embarrassed, before seating yourself behind him on his bike. "Hold onto me," he said, not even daring to look at you. You snaked your arms around his torso and you felt him tense up. "All good?"

"Yeah." You smiled, “let’s go.”

When you got to the park, you headed over to the swings-- the afternoon was cold and the sun was only setting, the golden rays feeling refreshing on your face. 'Maybe I should go out tonight, what's the harm?' you thought to yourself, the weather was so nice anyway. 

You noticed Vernon walking over to you with coffee milk in one hand and redbean bao in the other. Two of each. "What's this?" you tilted your head as he offered one pair to you.

He crouched down in front of you. "Kim told me you've been busy with school lately." he said, eyes meeting yours.

"Yeah, week before the week of exams, you know," you replied, taking a bite out of the bao. Still hot. You blew some of the air out your mouth to cool down, "Can't study too hard."

Vernon stood up, looking towards the sunlight. You watched his hair dance with the breeze-- his face painted with a golden yellow shimmer that made him mistakable for a painting. "Don't work too hard,” he said, crouching to meet your eyes as he halted your swinging.

Taken aback, you flinched. "What?" 

He looked down at you, and then away.

"You tend to overwork yourself often and you end up skipping meals. You should remember to look after yourself and take a break sometimes,"

"Is that what you're here for?" you laughed, "To remind me?"

The right edge of his lips curled slightly, “You just won’t let me be cute, huh?”

“Huh?”

"I have something to tell you," he sighed, cutting you off quickly. You could tell he was nervous.

"Yes?"

"I want to make sure you're safe and healthy. I want to remind you to take breaks and be there for you when you need help or anything at all. I want to treat you to breakfast, lunch, dinner, the movies," he paused to look up, like he was scared of the next few words, "I've never felt like this before-- so compelled to be close to someone like this." he maintained eye contact steadily, taking a breath.

"Don't take this the wrong way but I can't see anything but you," he held onto the tip of your chin, lifting it and causing you to look at him, "I just can't get enough,"

"I want to pick up all the pretty words and give them to you," he pulls you closer, "I promise myself every morning-- I promise I'll tell you what I've always wanted so say--", your eyes meet and he silently asks for permission. You grant it. "You're so pretty." he finishes and you feel him pull your chin towards his face before your lips are on his own.

[youremyheaven]

how do u attract love? in terms of romantic and genuine love?

I think we attract who we are. I try my best to be as loving as I can be, I probably give too much of myself to too many people (it's one reason why I answer long asks and type out long answers that take me quite a bit of time) but I enjoy it, it's my nature.

I love to love and I enjoy being kind. Enjoy probably sounds like a weird word to use in this context but I genuinely give to people out of the goodness of my heart and regardless of what I may or may not get from them. A lot of people don't give to others bc "what if they misuse it....." that's none of my business 💛 I trust the universe and believe that I am the conduit through which they have to get certain messages or things. What they do with it, is up to them. The flower's job is to share it's sweet nectar with the world, it's futile to worry about the intentions of the bees 😌. Their intentions will dictate their life and mine will dictate mine. Sorry for yapping too much but yeah, I'm a lover girl 🥰😭 I'll do anything for people I love and I have love for everyone. If I met you today and you needed me to donate blood to you, I'd do it without a second thought. This isn't always a smart idea but I believe that God has always protected me from people and situations that could exploit my loving nature.

In return, I feel like I'm loved beyond measure and surrounded and filled with so much warmth and generosity. Even here on Tumblr, you guys are so beyond sweet and treat me like I'm your friend or sister 🥺🥺🥺

you can't be cruel, selfish, stingy and calculative and expect others to be open, loving, tender and warm. for me, in my life, at least, I think I draw in people who are vibrationally similar to me and I distance myself from those who are not. I'm not a doormat.

There's no key on attracting love. You just have to love and be willing to see what happens. My drug abusing ex who is/was suicidal and caused me much grief? I have love for him too and I hope he's well. I have love for my family despite all the hurt there is. I have love for my former friends, despite the wounds there are.

I don't expect anything from any of them and therefore it's not disappointing when they behave in certain ways. That's a reflection of who they are. I will stand my ground and leave though because I will choose my peace over anything else. Being loving does not mean everybody will be lovely to you. Some people are absolutely horrible and stuck in their old ways. Their biggest punishment is being them. But if you are loving and kind, you will at some point find people who are also gentle, loving and warm.

Even when I was younger and not exceptionally kind (unhealed trauma made me act out) I had people in my life who treated me with utmost kindness and compassion and it made me want to be that person for others 💛💛 to this day I think about some of those people even though we're no longer in touch and I wish them well. How we make others feel is very important. You can be angry, sad, irritated, tired etc etc but how you speak and behave in those moments reflects the core of your being. Being with my pookie, and seeing him go through so many different experiences and yet always speaking to me sweetly makes me realise how precious that is. You can't turn into an asshole when you're angry, not if you love the other person. Everything can be handled with grace ✨

Anyways, that's a long winded answer and I'm not sure if I answered it at all. Being authentic and being sincere is the key and you'll find your people that way 💛💛💛 (and weed out the ones who aren't for u)