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starry-bi-sky · 5 months

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i've mentioned in a few past posts about an au where Danny is a variant of Jason Todd. I haven't made a post about it yet because I need a good rhythm flowing however i've been listening to Gladiator by Jann and I have been having thoughts.

but first, let me set the au:

Danny Fenton is Jason Todd, or at least, a variant of him. A him from a universe separate to the major Batman timeline - but still Jason Todd, down to the structure of his face and his name itself. The only thing that changes, is who picks him up - and, that he follows old Batman canon, and was an orphan. Jason Todd steals the tires off the batmobile and wallops Batman with his tirejack, and then runs off. Shortly after, he gets picked up by the Fentons.

(Customary line break,,,, word count check: 5k)

And his name changes from Jason Todd to Danny Fenton. He doesn't care much for the new name change, it stems from his mute refusal to share his name to the people that picked him up; an attempt to make him untraceable should he get away from them, and to keep something of his to himself. So they name him something new. He grows to like it enough as he acclimates to his new family.

(He hangs onto the name Jason Todd like a secret - he may be 'Danny Fenton' now, but he'll never forget his time on Gotham's streets. He'll always be Jason Todd.)

(Jazz is the only one who he tells his name to in the family - she affectionately calls him Jay whenever she wants.)

He becomes friends with Sam and Tucker and deals with Dash and his bullying. And when Danny steps in during a fight between Dash and another student, Dash gives him a bleeding nose and mockingly says, "Do you think you're Robin just because you're from Gotham, Fenton?"

Jason looks him in the eyes and he bares his teeth, "Why not?" he asks, spitting blood, "being Robin gives me magic."

The nickname sticks. It's supposed to be an insult; Daniel Fenton is not Robin, he'll never be Robin. Not now, not in a million years. Jason Todd has always wanted to be Robin, so he takes the insult and wears it proudly. He buys a school varsity jacket and painstakingly undos the stitching of all the school's motif on it. On the breast of it, he embroiders in a black circle with the Boy Wonder "R" on it instead. It's not good stitching, but the next day Danny wears it down to breakfast and into school.

In normal au canon, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton (its a mouthful, just call him Danny) only meets the Waynes after he becomes Phantom - an event that leans more towards Daniel Fenton's accident than Jason Todd's death, but traumatizes him all the same. (Is it too much to want to be mourned? His best friends like to deny that he died - and Danny - Jason? - wishes they wouldn't, even if he did come back.)

(The accident embitters him, even more when his parents don't seem to pick up on it. He stops calling himself Danny Fenton - he's always been Jason Todd. It shows itself in his ghostly form. He doesn't want to wear the thing he died in, not in something that belongs to the Fentons, and his suit reflects that.)

In this timeline, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton, aged 13, meets Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne after a mishap with magic on the other end of the reality sends the three of them careening through time and space, and spat back out on the other end, in a world not their own. And together.

Danny is paired with a very confused Bruce Wayne and Richard Grayson. Luckily, there's a few heroes there to help them. Danny can hardly comprehend the idea that he's in another universe - he doesn't know why Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne are seemingly handling it well.

On their way to a secondary base with the heroes, Danny turns to Bruce Wayne and asks, "So, is it part of rich-person training that you're just totally chill with being sent into another universe, or are you just weird?"

Bruce Wayne huffs at him, rather than get offended, and he smiles that dumb lopsided billionaire smile that Danny's seen on every vogue magazine he's been in. "I'm not so worried with these skilled heroes here to help us get home."

Danny silently concludes that he's just weird. At least Dick Grayson is biting back a smile behind him. "Riiiight..." He says, dragging the vowel out dryly.

When they get to that secondary location -- a safehouse that one of the heroes had set up -- the three of them are sat in a living room-like room while one hero, Zatanna, goes and calls someone from the Justice League. The other two heroes stay with the three of them.

Within a few hours, Danny is face to face with Batman - someone who he hasn't seen since he whacked him in the stomach with a tire iron - and Nightwing. For a moment, Danny swears that the both of them look almost spooked by him.

Batman stares at him for a moment when he enters, and then he goes to speak with Bruce Wayne. Danny doesn't care enough to hear what they're talking about, he pulls out his phone as Nightwing goes to speak with Dick Grayson.

"Are you a fan of Robin, little man?" Someone says, and when Danny looks up he locks eyes with Dick Grayson -- who is leaning around Nightwing to talk to him, the both of them are smiling. And considering who Nightwing was, Danny finds himself turning pink to the ears.

But he will not hide his jacket. He forces a grin through his embarrassment, "Hell yeah, man, Robin's cool." He says, and pushes his arms down to pull out the hem of his letterman, showing off the emblem. "I made it m'self out of a school varsity after the A-Listers started callin' me Robin."

"A-Listers?"

"Popular kids," Danny corrects, loosing his hold on the hem and brushing invisible wrinkles out of the embroidery. "They didn't like that I kept stepping in when they were bullying. Dash asked me if i thought I was Robin because I was from Gotham."

Dick Grayson looks intrigued -- and concerned, and he leans forward onto his knees and raises an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

And Danny grins a shark-like thing, straightening back his shoulders with a burning sort of smug pride and all the sharpness of broken glass left in Crime Alley. "I told him being Robin gave me magic, and then I punched him."

Dick Grayson's smile widens, splitting into showing teeth as he leans back into his seat. Danny isn't sure why he's so delighted - but Nightwing looks incredibly amused, and he suddenly remembers that the Robin himself was there in front of him.

Danny's face burns anew and his arms fold themselves in front of him once again.

"I don't think I ever caught your name, Robin." Dick Grayson goes, his voice thick with laughter, and Nightwing steps off to the side as Batman and Bruce Wayne walk over to join them both. They're just close enough that Danny can see Bruce Wayne raise an eyebrow at them both.

"It's Jason." Danny says before he can think about it, and barely stops himself from frowning at himself for the slip. He amends himself, glancing over at Batman and Bruce as they get closer. "But everyone calls me Danny."

Dick Grayson's head recoils slightly, and he looks a little surprised. "Why Danny?" He asks.

"Why Dick?" He shoots back, and Bruce and Dick both smile at him, with Dick Grayson shrugging with an expression that looks like 'you've got a point.'

In the end, the three of them - yes, three - get sent to this world's Wayne Manor, and Danny is bewildered by that decision to include himself -- he's not a Wayne. Why not just send him to the Fentons?

Batman tells him that the Fentons don't exist in this world, and Danny falls silent. "Oh." He says quietly, a pit growing in his stomach with an ill-kind of dread. He can't keep Batman's gaze, looking away with unease.

No Fentons in this world. No Fentons. Where was he then, in the grand scheme of things? Where was he in this world? What happened to Jason Todd? Was he even alive? He can't keep the worry off his face, and he jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder. When he looks up, Dick Grayson squeezes him gently.

Dick Grayson is steadily beginning to remind him of his sister.

They end up driving back in the Batmobile. It's such a shock to Danny that he momentarily forgets the lack of Fentons. He makes a laugh sound, actually, and immediately he covers his hand with his mouth and stares at the car -- tank? with his teeth sunk into his lower lip.

"Jason?" Dick says, and hearing his name being spoken feels like someone touched him with a livewire. It's weird, it's foreign - he hates, in some way, that it's foreign - and it's so nice. Yes, that's me.

He drops his hand immediately. "Sorry." He says, realizing he'd stopped in his tracks, "I -uh, was just surprised."

"It's not every day someone sees the Batmobile." Dick agrees. Nightwing has his back to them but Danny swears he sees his shoulders shaking a little.

"Yeah," Danny nods slowly, dragging his eyes over the batmobile as Batman opens the driver's side and gets in. He thinks for a moment, of what he should say next - whether to admit that he's seen it before, or to pretend that he's seeing it for the first time. Snd as Nightwing opens the door for him, Bruce, and Dick, he chooses the funnier option; "The last time I saw it, I was stealing its tires."

To his surprise and unsurprise, Danny only gets two pairs of eyes on him. Nightwing gets into the passenger seat as both Bruce and Dick turn their gaze onto him; Dick's eyes big like they were going to bulge out of his head.

"You what!?"

So Danny tells an amazed Dick Grayson that he hit Batman with a tire iron after he stole his tires - something he is very proud about and also incredibly embarrassed about when he retells what happened in the backseat of the batmobile, with Batman and Nightwing listening in from the front seat.

(Bruce Wayne doesn't ever tell Dick shit, he's going to lord this over Bruce's head the moment they are alone.)

"Please tell me this didn't happen in this world." Danny groans behind his palms as he sinks into his seat. Dick Grayson is killing himself laughing on his left, and he saw Bruce Wayne stifling a smile before he obscured his vision with his hands.

Much to his luck, its Batman himself who speaks next, (Danny was being mostly rhetorical). "It did." He says, and his voice sounds like the rumble of the earth before a stampede. It will never not throw Danny off every time he hears it. "It takes quite a lot of spunk to steal the tires off the batmobile."

He can't believe it. Batman is making fun of him. Fucking, Batman.

He wants to die with embarrassment. He groans even louder as Dick Grayson's laughter crescendoes. Danny risks a peak through his fingers, he doesn't know whether to regret it or not because he can just barely see Batman smirk very faintly from his position in the middle.

(His world axis tilts five degree leftways seeing it; like someone dunked a bucket of ice water on him.)

"He ended up being adopted by the Bruce Wayne of this world."

Danny's hands drop with his jaw into his lap. Dick Grayson on his left chokes on his laughter and careens into a coughing fit. Bruce Wayne on his right chokes on air, and quickly recovers himself with a cough behind a closed fist.

"What?" Danny croaks.

Apparently, Bruce Wayne's family is much larger in this world than it is in his. Danny can barely wrap his head around the idea that he ends up adopted by the man, but now he has to learn that Wayne had several children in this world?

He's still not wrapped his head around it when the three of them wind up at Wayne Manor, finally, or even when he's standing in front of him himself. For his effort, Bruce Wayne does a good job at looking unruffled by it.

God, he's weird. Danny's starting to quite like it, actually. How human of him.

He still can't wrap his head around it when he meets the rest of Bruce Wayne's children, all of whom are already aware of the three of them. Danny thinks that someone from the Justice League might've alerted them before they got here.

It makes sense, he supposes.

It helps that they are just as weirded out as he is. A boy named Tim Drake sees him for the first time and blurts out; "Oh wow, you're tiny." In a tone like he's just seen a two-headed snake burst out of the ground.

Danny is still offended. He's still growing. It's not his fault he spent twelve years of his life malnourished. "I'm gonna be taller than you," he tells him seriously, "and when I do I'm gonna kick your ass."

Tim snorts at him.

The other Bruce Wayne -- Mr. Wayne's -- youngest looks at him up and down with a face of carefully controlled judgement. His name is Damian, he's Bruce Wayne's only biological son. Danny can't believe that there's only one.

If anything, Bruce Wayne himself looks surprised too.

"Todd, yes?" Damian says, his green eyes narrowed at him.

Danny feels like the specimen under his parents' microscope, he feels like he's standing on a platform that's being slowly spun by scientists. He looks over at Bruce Wayne in confusion, and then back at Damian. "I- yes?"

Damian Wayne nods, and then leaves.

Danny does not once see himself. That is unsettling in and of itself - surely Jason Todd would have been told about another version of himself in this world, wouldn't he? How old is he here? An adult, probably. Danny doesn't know if he wants to see him. What does he look like when he's grown up? He pulls his Robin jacket around him a little tighter, like a cocoon, like a shield.

"It's weird to hear them call me Jason Todd." He says aloud to himself, and it leaves a weight behind in his chest that shouldn't hurt the way it does. It shouldn't be weird to be called your name. It shouldn't cobweb up your throat to hear your name being said. It was his name. It was his.

Danny acclimates to the manor slowly. The house is big, massive. He's never been in a house so large before, he feels like a stray cat being taken in for the first time, again. He and Bruce and Dick Grayson are all given their own separate rooms - one of many inside this mansion - and the sheer size of his bedroom is bigger than his living room and kitchen combined.

it's daunting. Danny sits outside on the balcony and stares at the stars he can see - Wayne Manor is far enough away from Gotham that its light pollution doesn't obscure the sky here like it did in the heart of it.

Danny finds the constellations he can find and wishes he had his books with him. He finds the library the next day and buries himself in the back, curling up into a comfy armchair next and inhaling each book he can get his hands on.

Tim Drake wanders past him at some point, Danny would have missed him if it weren't for the fact that Drake stared at him strangely when he saw him. He walks away when he realizes Danny was staring back.

It's a rinse and repeat for the next few days. Danny doesn't go to meals, he sneaks food from the kitchen afterwards, and then buries himself in hundreds of books in the library.

Dick Grayson, the one from his world, goes and finds him three days later. Danny's eyes hurt with strain by then, but he is furiously halfway through a Jane Austen novel when Dick sits down across from him.

"Have you been here all day?" Dick asks, he drapes himself across the side of his chair, contorting himself into a position that Danny doesn't think is comfortable when he looks up at him.

Not that he looks up at him long - he hums absently and goes back to reading. Frowning when he realizes he lost his place on the page.

Dick Grayson raises an eyebrow, "Have you at least eaten anything?"

Danny hums. No, he hasn't, and he hadn't thought about eating all day. Until now that is, his frown ever deepening as his stomach pangs with a deep hunger.

"That's not healthy."

"Mhm."

"Are you going to eat something?"

"Mhhh."

And this gets Dick to frown. He straightens himself up, propping onto his elbows to stare at Danny. "Jason." He says strongly. And it's that that gets Danny to finally look up from his page, jumping like he'd again been poked with a live wire as he stares at Dick with wide eyes.

"Yes?"

"Put the book down." Dick orders, gesturing towards the side table next to Danny with a nod. "And come eat something." There's very little room for argument in his voice, he sounds like Jazz when she's trying to parent him, but instead he actually sounds authoritative. Not bossy.

Danny still frowns at him. "You're not the boss of me." He says, sinking back into his chair with a thumb bookmarking his page.

Dick gives him a look and makes a decisive noise, swaggling his head side to side while he does. "I'm pretty sure that for as long as we're here, me and B actually are the boss of you."

He's never really liked authority figures, not ones that tried to boss him around, that is. Danny doubles down, his lips curling into a shadow of a scowl. "Just because you're my brother in another world doesn't mean you can act like it."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"I don't want to go eat."

"It's not good for you to skip meals."

"Quit talking like Jazz."

"Danny."

Danny sinks his teeth into his lip and scowls darkly at him, shrinking into the back of his armchair in hopes that it'll swallow him whole. The idea of going into that large fucking dining room fills him with a dread that makes him completely forget his appetite.

"Your fucking- dining room is- it's too big." He grits out, finally closing his book and hugging it tightly to his chest.

Dick blinks at him. "What?"

"You heard me! It's too big. This whole place is too big. It's- what do you even do with this much space? I don't know how this- other me ever lived here."

Dick Grayson surprises him, and his expression softens. "Oh," he says, "I get it."

"You do?" The tension bleeds slowly out of Danny's shoulders

"Yeah, I felt the same way when I first moved in with Bruce. I lived with the circus for most of my life, but I slept in a trailer." He says. And he talks more.

The end result of their conversation ends with Dick Grayson offering to let Danny sit across or next to him during mealtimes, and that he can talk to him if he starts getting uneasy. But he can't keep skipping meals - it was making them all worried.

Danny agrees, and Dick takes him down to the kitchens for food.

"They look at me weirdly too." He grumbles as they leave the library, Danny's book returned to the shelf where it belonged. When Dick looks at him curiously, he scrunches his nose up. "The - your other siblings. They look at me like I'm- I'm someone else. S'weird."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Dick asks, "You are someone else."

Dany shrugs, staring at the ground with a heavy frown. "I don't know."

Danny seeks out Dick more after that. And vice versa. Dick reminds Danny of Jazz, and he latches onto the familiarity like a leech. If Dick is bothered by it, he doesn't show it, whether he's talking to his other world's self, to the Bruce's, or to one of the other Wayne kids.

Damian Wayne seems particularly keen to seek him out, Danny finds. He thinks it means that they're close in this world, and that Damian wants to see more of what a young Dick is like. That's what he would do, at least.

He takes up on Dick's offer of seating near him during dinner, and finds an open spot across from him. Unless he has something to show him, then he sits next to him.

("You can call me Jason." He tells him one day when they're in the Wayne's massive, fuck-off gym and they're both climbing over the jungle gym. Dick's showing him how to be more flexible. It's the most Danny's worked out ever, he likes the burn it gives him.

Dick looks at him in surprise, "Really?" he's doing a handstand on the bars and Danny's more than a little jealous at his balance.

"Yeah, dipshit," he says, rolling his eyes, "I'll even let you call me Jay, it's my nickname."

Dick happily takes him up on that offer, and much to Danny's embarrassment, starts calling him Jaybird. All because of his stupid Robin jacket.)

Danny has yet to meet his other self still, it's scaring him a little. Where was he? And matter of fact, how long until he could go back to his home dimension? The three of them hadn't gotten any updates since they arrived.

Speaking of, he was starting to talk to Bruce more, it was just... strange. Even stranger than talking to Dick. Bruce Wayne in another life would have been his adoptive father, Danny can't wrap his head around it for the life of him.

Whatever did Bruce Wayne see in Jason Todd that made him worth adopting? He's too afraid of the answer to ask. They start talking more after they run into each other late at night. Danny had been hit with a bout of insomnia and was going to the library.

He ran into Bruce on the way. He was just.. staring, out the window, with a faraway look in his eye. He didn't even look startled to see Danny standing there.

Danny asks him if he wants to go to the library with him. It was out of panic. He isn't expecting Bruce Wayne to agree, and they walk there in suffocating silence. Danny keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye.

("You're staring?" Bruce doesn't sound upset, Danny jumps anyway.

"Yeah, sorry." his voice sounds stilted, "it's just..." his jaw wires itself shut for a spell, "...you looked like you were about to disappear."

"Ah.")

When they reach the library, Danny leads Bruce Wayne into the science section and takes out books upon books about stars. He leads him over to the armchair and fire and they both sit down on the ground.

"When I lived in Gotham I would stargaze." Danny says, it's the first thing he can think of. Bruce Wayne looks at him quizzically. "Well, I would try to. The sky's too polluted for that. Mostly I would just watch the skyline and try and spot Batman and Robin, was the same thing."

That cracks a smile out of Bruce. It's a small one, barely there. "I hardly think the two are comparable."

Danny is still serious. "Not to me."

He goes on, talking about how after he was adopted he got his hands on every star book he could find. He loves english and he loves to read, but something about the stars drew him in like a song. He rambles about every star fact he knows with Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne surprises him by telling him facts he didn't know. Danny soaks it up like a sponge, listening intently to him speak. And when they run out of star books to talk about, Danny tells Bruce that it was his turn to find something for them to talk about.

Bruce Wayne smiles again at him, a sly little thing like Danny's challenged him, and gets up. He comes back with a stack of film books, and they spend the next few hours going through them. Bruce Wayne rattles off every single movie fun fact he knows, and there is so much that he knows.

Danny is in awe, and moves to press against Bruce's side to see the stuff he points at in his books.

"You're smarter than people give you credit for." He says at some point, when his eyes hurt from being open for too long and his head leans against Bruce's arm for support. It follows with a jaw-cracking yawn that he tries and fails to stifle.

"Thank you, Danny." Bruce says, his voice soft and soothing and not helping with Danny's weighing exhaustion. His eyes drift, and then jerk open. "Do you want to go back to your room? You look tired, chum."

He bites back a smile at the nickname, and fails to keep it bitten. "No, no, I'm awake." He mumbles, shaking his head slowly. "I wanna hear-" he yawns again, "-hear you talking."

Danny swears he can hear the smile in Bruce's voice as he speaks; "Alright. Now, where was I?"

In the end, Danny falls asleep on the floor of the library next to Bruce Wayne. He doesn't even realize it until he wakes up the next morning. But it's not to worry, Bruce Wayne fell asleep too, an arm thrown around Danny protectively like he was his own kid.

This becomes a thing for them soon enough. When neither of them can sleep, they go to the library and talk and talk about whatever comes to mind.

There comes the dreaded night after they've finished whatever book they were looking at when Bruce, the little shit, turns to Danny and goes; "You never mentioned what happened after you hit Batman with a tire iron."

Danny groans, big and dramatic, burying his head in his arms, and ignores the low chuckle. "I thought he was gonna chase me down for sure." He complains, his voice muffled by his arms.

"Why did you hit him with a tire iron?"

The look Bruce gets is one of pure disbelief. "If Mothman suddenly showed up behind you while you were taking the wheels off his ride, you'd hit him too!"

"Last time I checked, Mothman isn't real." Bruce told him amusedly, and Danny flops over onto his back to stare him down. His arms sprawl out like a starfish, intentionally hitting Bruce in the shoulder.

"You don't know that, Batman's a cryptid and he's real."

Bruce roars with laughter, and Danny preens like a bird.

That next morning when Bruce passes by him for breakfast, he reaches over and ruffles his hair. It's the same thing he does for Dick every morning. It's the first of many, and it gets many stares from the surrounding family.

Bruce has a newspaper tucked under his arm, and when he sits down Danny stands up and skedaddles over to him, leaning over the side of his chair to peer at the paper.

"Any cryptids spotted, Buzz?" He asks, getting a startled laugh out of Bruce, who looks up at him.

"Buzz?"

"Well, yeah," and Danny states it as matter-of-fact. He gestures his head at Dick Grayson. "Dick calls you 'B', and B is for bees, and I can't just call you Bees, that's dumb. So; Buzz."

He grins triumphantly when Bruce laughs quietly, his shoulders shaking imperceptibly. "I know," he tilts his head up proudly, "I'm a genius."

Now he's actually laughing, dropping his head into one of his hands and trying to quiet himself as much as possible. Danny is positively beaming, ignoring the stares of the other Waynes as he flounces back to his seat just as the other Mister Wayne enters the room.

When Jason Daniel Fenton Todd meets Jason Todd for the first time, they both just stare at each other.

Danny recognizes himself immediately in the library, and he freezes up. His tongue ties to the roof of his mouth, and he's unsure of what to say.

He doesn't need to say anything at all, because when Jason Todd looks up and they lock eyes, they both just stare. And stare. Jason Todd is a large, hulk of a man, built like a brick shithouse, with a tired, traumatized look in his eyes and a white streak in his black curls. The same black curls that Danny himself has.

He has no idea what to say. Or if he should turn back around and leave.

Jason Todd sighs at him, "I know they told me you and another world's Bruce and Dickie were here," he says, but it sounds like he's talking to himself. Even moreso when he mutters half-heartedly, "-but I was hoping I wouldn't run into you."

Danny feels small next to him. He doesn't know why. "Sorry." He says lamely, his one foot skips back, "I can leave if you want." It's unlike him to be meek, he thinks. Not after years of Gotham living and dealing with the likes of Dash and his Jerk Jocks.

But this also isn't the streets, and this isn't other kids being dicks. Jason Todd shakes his head, and gestures with one large arm for Danny to come over. "You don't need to do that, you were coming to read, right?"

He nods, and tentatively makes his way over. When Jason looks at him, he sees him cast his eyes over his Robin jacket - he wears it everyday. Danny sees him narrow his eyes, just slightly. But he says nothing.

It's... a strange conversation. Interaction. Jason Todd doesn't talk to him much, and if he does it's stilted and awkward, like he doesn't know how to treat him. Like he's holding him at arm's length.

Jason's getting tired of being treated like a ghost.

They talk about their books. They compare lives. Jason Todd was picked up a few days after he stole the wheels of the batmobile. He wasn't an orphan, he lived with his mom and his stepdad before he lived with Bruce. They both like to read, only Danny has an interest in the stars.

("What do your adoptive parents do?" Jason Todd asks him, one arm slung over the back of the armchair, he looks relaxed. He looks tense. Danny feels like he's back in Crime Alley again.

"They're 'ectologists'." He says, making air quotes over the word. He rolls his eyes, "Ghost hunters. They study the dead and all things afterlife."

Jason Todd makes a dry laugh huff, a sarcastic half-smile on his face. He doesn't explain why he does, Danny doesn't ask why. It doesn't seem like his business.)

Danny wants to ask him where he got that white streak in his hair. It doesn't feel right. It feels like his parents' lab, and that isn't right. Nothing ever feels like his parents' lab.

Jason Todd leaves first after giving him a few book recommendations. Danny isn't sure how to rate the experience. Being in Jason Todd's presence was like standing in a liminal space. An empty parking lot at night. When he leaves it feels like much the same thing.

He struggles to read his books afterwards, unable to shake the feeling of being haunted.

#THERE WILL BE A PART 2 #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny is jason todd au #daniel jason fenton todd #daniel jason fenton todd?#man i love these variant aus huh #somehing about exploring identity man #I DIDNT EVEN GET TO THE PART THAT WAS THE WHOLE REASON I MADE THE WHOLE POST #that will be in part 2 onfg #but its so late i've been writing for literally hours #you know its late bc these tags aren't half as long as they normally are #its not a starry au unless it needs a read more #there's so much fluff here folks #so much fluff #it was supposed to be rlly only between dick and danny but bruce the sneaky bastard snuck in there #bc i needed him to also??? be on Good Terms with danny #parental ambiguity with the fenton parents. are they good? are they bad? who knows!#claps loudly IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT DANNY DOES NOT FIGURE OUT THEIR IDENTITY AT ALL DURING THIS #starry coming in hot with another unnecessarily long au #none of my friends are in DPDC so tumblr gets it instead

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dc418writes · 1 year

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Before It’s Too Late

✨Pairing: Andy Barberxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Andy gets a special visitor to help remind him what’s important

⚠️: a good amount of angst in this one, allusion to divorce, couple bad language words, ends in fluff tho (bcus I’m soft and it’s the holidays☺️)

A/N🎙️: hey guys! Hope you like this idea I had based on a Christmas Carol. Also this is an au where Laurie and Jacob don’t exist

*Disclaimer!: although collage was made by me, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found on Pinterest

Looking down at his watch, the ticking face reads 11:01 pm as Andy locks the door behind him and the security system later beeps from its activation. The bottoms of his dress shoes tap along the wooden floor stepping further into the dimly lit home unsurprised to find it quiet and seemingly empty.

It’s a greeting he’d grown accustomed to these last few months having worked constant late nights that sometimes ran into early mornings.

“Left a plate for you in the fridge if you’re hungry. Hope you had a good day ~Love, Y/N” The note read resting in front of his usual seat at the head of the table; sending a pang of guilt to his heart. If he had a choice of course he’d want to be home with his family being able to eat and laugh together.

But as the District Attorney, his work was never really done until the case was closed, which could take months to years. Plus this job made it possible to provide for his family, the most important thing to him.

Slowly climbing the stairs to avoid its loud creaks, he first stops at his daughter’s door gently pushing it open to check on her as he always did when arriving home late. Finding her bed made and untouched only means she’s next to you in their bedroom; more than likely on his side to “protect” you from any monsters hiding in the closet or under the bed.

“Daddy don’t worry, I watch over mama,” Marlow would state confidently whenever he’d call saying how he wouldn’t be home until late that night. Each time his lips would curl into a soft smile at how thoughtful she was already before thanking her for taking such good care of you.

The light from the tv flickers along the room with the screen still playing some animated movie. Both you and Marlow fast asleep as you snuggled close with arms wrapped around each other. Her little Starry Night flashlight on the bedside table making him quietly chuckle as he steps closer to place a kiss on her curly head then yours.

“You’re home,” you tiredly whisper beginning to stir with barely open lids.

“Yea, I see you two had a sleepover.”

You turn to gaze at your baby with a sleepy giggle, “She tried waiting up for you, but didn’t make it 30 minutes. Let me put her to bed-,”

“No you two stay. I still have work to do.”

“Andy it’s nearly-,” you carefully shift to look at your phone, “one in the morning and you’re still doing work? Just save it for later and come to bed.”

“Honey this is a big case. The more I work the sooner we’ll get done.”

That was a lie. If that did happen, you knew he’d only find something else that needed to be done. Or more evidence would somehow be found that either added to, or discredited, his argument thus leading to more work.

“Andy, you’ve been working on this case non-stop for over a year. If that really were the case, I’m sure you’d be done by now,” you sigh.

“Y/N-,”

“I’ll see you in the morning. Unless you leave before we get up. Again.” He doesn’t get the chance to say anything more as you turn your back to him; choosing instead to face your still baby girl peacefully resting all this time.

Sighing, he places a final kiss to the back of your head with a quiet, “Goodnight,” before he’s quietly leaving again to return downstairs to his office. And you’re left alone for yet another night, silently crying yourself to sleep worried about the future for you and your husband.

With a low groan, Andy lifts his head from the desk combing his fingers through his unruly hair. A yawn slipping past his lips as he tries to stretch the kinks and cramps from his back. He had every intention of coming to bed, but he’d found a hole in the plaintiff’s argument that’d surely help them come one step closer to a possible close.

That hot streak led to three more hours of typing before he finally crashed while reading over his work. Uncomfortably so as he rubs at the knot sitting at the base of his neck.

There’s a giggle outside his door followed by little Marlow popping her head of wild curls in with a wide smile on her lips. The room brightening with her cheery entrance as usual. “Hi daddy!”

“Morning busy bee,” he smiles opening his arms so she’d join him in his chair. Her small arms linking around his neck to kiss his cheek as he holds her close. “Good job looking after everything last night.”

“Monsters stayed away. I had my flashlight.”

“Morning Andy,” you softly smile entering with his favorite mug. “Marlie made you coffee.”

“Thank you sweetheart. Daddy really needed this after the night he had.”

“Later, we make cookies for my play. Right daddy?”

“Wait, tonight? I thought that was this weekend?”

“Nope, tonight. I reminded you yesterday on your lunch,” you sigh sitting on the edge of his desk with arms crossed in front of you. You already knew where this conversation was going from the remorse in his cerulean eyes.

“Sweetheart I’m so sorry, but I’m not gonna be able to make it. I’ll be downtown.”

“But…you promised.”

“I know I did-,”

“You never break promises daddy!,” she pouts with big brown eyes glossy from incoming tears.

“Well sometimes-,”

“You lied!”

“Marlow enough, alright?! I have to work, there’s nothing I can do to change that. Mama will be there to record it and I’ll watch it with you later,” he sternly replies further upsetting the five-year-old. She quickly wiggles out of his grasp and down to the floor now reaching out for you and your comfort.

“Y/N don’t. I’m not in the mood for I told you so.”

“You can’t even give us one day Andy? One?!” For the sake of your daughter, you try to keep your voice calm when everything in you was currently ready to erupt.

“Whadaya want me to do honey, hm? Quit?,” he asks tossing aside some folder filled with papers. “Fine. I’ll quit and everything I’ve worked for; this house, our comfortable life where neither of you want for anything, that’ll disappear too.”

“We want you! Your daughter wants her father as more than a glimpse she’s lucky to see everyday, and I want my husband back.” Frustrated tears burn your eyes before rolling down your cheeks as you gently rock your daughter hiding her face in your neck. “If all we really cared about was the material stuff, we wouldn’t be having this conversation for the millionth time.”

Guilt eats away at him once more silently watching the both of you leave his office. He desperately missed his girls too. Coming home to his energetic baby girl excited to tell him about her day or play dress up. Your vanilla and caramel scent latching to his nostrils anytime he’d steal a kiss from your soft lips. Lying next to you with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as if you’d easily vanish if he let go.

But this job required a lot of his time. It was something he and you knew from the beginning, even when he was still just a practicing lawyer in that small law firm. What could he really do about it?

“Honey,” he calls rising from his chair to follow your trail. “Honey wai-,”

Stepping in the hall, the once warm and furnished home is now dark and somber. The walls bare of the framed pictures you’d taken over the years and air cool from the draft circulating through the empty abode. His thick brows furrow as he hurries through the house once his, opening all doors in a frenzy trying to find his family. “Y/N?! Marlie?!”

“They’re gone Andrew,” a voice booms from overhead causing the attorney to twist about while looking towards the ceiling.

“W-Who said that? Where’s my family?!”

“Relax they’re fine. Honestly much better now you’re not there.”

“I’m only givin’ you one more chance. Show yourself and bring my girls back now!”

“Well, I can’t really do either of those seeing as I’m a ghost and need to teach you a lesson before I send you back.”

“A ghost..,” Andy repeats full of amusement with hands on his hips. “Mhm right. Marlow Anais Barber no more games alright? You got me, now come out with mama.”

“Andy I’m telling you, they’re not here. You’re about to lose your family and I’m here to help.”

“How when I can’t even see you? And what are you? My guardian angel or something?”

“No, and with that attitude I’m glad I’m not,” the voice replies making him glare at the ceiling. “They’re only called for life or death situations. I’m just your standard spirit guide.”

“This is clearly a stress dream,” he mumbles to himself beginning to pace the floor. “I haven’t slept well for pretty much the whole year and now it’s getting to me. Yea that’s it.”

“Alright I see you’re just set on being difficult, so let’s begin.” Mouth set with his reply, the words immediately escape him being whisked through what felt like a tornado. Wind taking his breath as he tried to scream until his feet were back on the ground.

“What..t-the hell..was that?!,” he asks clutching his chest trying to regain his normal breathing and heart rate.

“Us traveling through time. Now hush and pay attention.” It finally registers that he’s outside his home partially decorated with Christmas lights and figurines. The ladder securely placed against the house as past him stapled the string of lights just above the gutters.

“This was years ago. Our first time decorating the house,” Andy softly smiles watching his former self carefully climb the ladder to stand on the roof instead. “Y/N said I was overdoing it, but I wanted everything to be perfect for-,”

“Let’s go check on daddy yea?,” he hears past you say to a then one-year-old Marlow tightly bundled in your arms as you walk out the front door. “Andrew Stephen Barber? Please tell me you’re still alive.”

“I am honey,” he chuckles pausing to look down at you. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

“Accidents happen. Did you know the holidays are the busiest time of year for hospitals?”

“I did not.”

“Well they are. So please be careful and refrain from making me a widowed, single mother anytime soon.”

“I promise you I’ll make it back inside, just like I promised my busy bee she’d have her own, personal Christmas Wonderland. Yes I did,” he coos down at the giggling, wide eyed little girl. “And daddy always keeps his promises.”

“Aww,” the spirit states from overhead. “What happened to you Andrew?”

“What do you mean? I’m still that guy.”

“Rigghhtt. And who was on the roof this year? And last year?”

“Alright, I’ve been busy,” he admits scratching the back of his neck. “This is a huge case that’s taken longer than expected so I haven’t had time like back then. That Christmas was during a…kinda dead period. Before my DA campaign. Then my ultimate acceptance. Things won’t always be like they are now though.”

“Yea, long as you get your priorities straight.”

He scoffs, “My priorities are straight.”

The winds of the tornado gather and build again, causing Andy to tense and brace for how his body would be tossed from here to there. It’s much smoother this time though, and he feels like he’s simply floating in the clouds before being gently placed on a carpeted floor.

“Hey, I uh think I’m getting used to-wait…could you have done that the first time?!”

“…you really need to relax before you give yourself an aneurysm Andrew.”

Rolling his eyes, he turns recognizing some pieces of furniture in the condo. His infamous chair he’s had since before he was married. That floor lamp he bought thinking it added sophistication to his place, but really didn’t look right with anything he had.

This wasn’t his old apartment though. He could tell from the pictures of Marlow on the bookcase and the impressive flatscreen mounted on his wall.

“Where are we?”

“The future. Since your priorities are so straight.”

A knock on the front door nearly has him moving to answer, if not for the startling shout of “coming!,” from the older man making his way down the hall.

Disheveled gray hair on his head and throughout his beard, he had to be in his mid to late 50s. Maybe early 60s even. He looked good for his age though, still able to move around well with arms and legs that still showed some of the strength from his youth. But the energy around him conveyed sadness. Flickers of loneliness and pain in the dull neutrals and silence throughout the modern residence.

“It..it’s me,” he whispers in shock sitting in the nearby barstool as he watches his older self finally open the door with you waiting on the other side. You still looked the same, just as beautiful as the day you first met and seeming to have only aged a couple years compared to him. Your eyes weren’t as bright though. No longer filled with that happiness usually there whenever you’d look at him.

“Andy,” you politely nod. “I um honestly didn’t expect you to be home.”

“Thought I’d take Christmas off for once.”

“I’ve been working Christmas all those years?,” he wonders to himself.

“Maybe even spend some time with busy bee,” he lightly chortles ushering you in before locking the door.

“She’s actually staying with her friends in LA this year. Last time we talked, she mentioned possibly making it for New Years, but knowing her she’ll probably just hang out there. Get some more work done with her internship.”

“Oh..r-right. Good for her,” he painfully smiles moving towards the kitchen.

“Plus you know holidays haven’t really been her thing since we-,”

“Yea I know. Not like I made things any better after either, always missing pick ups or our scheduled days together.”

“Yep..A1 priorities.” The spirit’s sarcastic tone doesn’t phase Andy, being more focused on the conversation in front of him.

“What’s that?,” he asks taking a break from making his PB&J to point the butterknife towards the bag in your hands.

“Oh, your Christmas present from me, Marlow, and Curtis.”

“Curtis? Who’s Curtis?”

“Dreamy blue eyes. Body of an Adonis. Bit rough around the edges but so incredibly sweet and caring-,”

“That’s not answering my question alleged spirit guide.”

“How’s he doing? Well both of you..y-you guys I mean,” he stutters going back to his sandwich.

“Good. He surprised me with a fire pit in the backyard and tickets to Fiji,” you softly smile.

“Hm,” he nods thoughtfully taking a bite.

“She always talked about wanting a fire pit in the back. Right off to the side far enough back that Marlie would have enough room to play without the risk of her getting hurt.”

“If only you were the one to get it for her,” the spirit tsk’s.

“Sure those tickets are to Fiji and not Fuji?”

“Andy don’t.”

“I’m just looking out for you,” he replies briefly holding up his hands. “Didn’t know a handyman’s salary allowed for exotic trips.”

“It does when he has his own business, and has had said business for a few years now. I swear it’s like you’re always trying to find something on him.”

“Because I barely know him! One minute it’s just you and Marlow, next thing I know you’re getting married and he’s moving in!”

“I tried to get you to meet him multiple times! But it was always the same, ‘I’m working.’ ‘Can’t I’m in a meeting.’ ‘Out of town with a witness.’ You just never wanted to meet him and, don’t pretend like it’s anything else.”

“Excuse me for not trusting some random guy to play father with my child!”

“Maybe he wouldn’t have to if you stepped up!,” you shout surely loud enough his neighbors would hear.

Andy himself felt that hit to his gut. Or maybe it was some joint reaction between him and his future self.

Sighing, you quickly wipe under your eyes catching any tears before they had a chance to fall. “Andy I didn’t come here to argue. It’s the holidays and-,”

“No I’m sorry. You’re right..I was a shit husband and turned into a shit father who only thought about the next case,” he humorlessly chuckles. “No wonder Marlow buries herself in work. Seems to not want anything to do with her family. She learned from her old man.”

“Why are you showing me this?,” Andy asks with a quick sniff; wiping away his own set of tears. He didn’t know when he started crying, but it seemed as if they’d never stop falling. “I’d never do that to them.”

“You’re already doing it Andrew. The late nights at the office and broken promises. If you continue down that path, this is your future.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Good, then fix it.”

Opening his eyes, he’s surrounded by the darkness of his home office making him breathe a sigh of relief as he sits upright on his couch. Your voice instructing Marlow to be careful when removing the cookies only causes his smile to widen, nearly slipping as he rushes towards the kitchen to see his favorite girls.

“Daddy!,” Marlow waves with her free hand. Her giggles and shrieks filling the two-story home as he picks her up to cover her face in kisses. “Beard tickles daddy!”

“I thought you were at work? You’ve been in the office this whole time?”

His only answer is to press his lips to yours with all the passion and love he’s neglected from you. Gently nipping at your bottom lip before going in for round two, you have to clutch his shirt to keep from buckling.

Marlow silently giggles occasionally peeking through her fingers covering her eyes.

“Y/N I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he sniffs pressing his forehead to yours. “For putting my job before our family. For treating both of you the way I did. I swear I’ll be better just please don’t give up on me.”

“I appreciate that Andy, but are you okay? You sound kinda mad baby.” His eyes sparkling and skin having a joyous glow, you hadn’t seen your husband like this in a long while.

“I’m good honey. So good,” he smiles pecking your lips once more. “And I’m home the rest of the month. No more case or late nights, it’s only you two.”

“You’re coming to the play daddy?!,” his daughter excitedly bounces in his arm.

“Yep! And tomorrow we gotta go pick out mama’s Christmas present,” he winks at you.

“Andy wait, can you do that? I mean of course we want you home, but-,”

“I’ll email Phillips and the rest of the team to let them know I need a break. They’ll be fine, plus the interns are there.”

“What if it’s not?”

“Then tough. It’s almost Christmas and I need to be with my family.”

You can only lovingly gaze at Andy as he talks more to Marlow about what all they can do during his break. The little girl growing more excited with every idea he suggests and you silently thankful for your Christmas miracle.

“What’s got you like this?,” you ask tightening your hold around his waist. Your chin propped on his firm chest with a giddy smile on your lips.

“A very needed wake up call,” he smiles pecking your nose before moving to the top of his baby girl’s head.

Taglist: @celestianstars @stargirlfics @fumbling-fanfics @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @adoreyouusugar @lovebittenbyevans @royalwriteroftheuniverse @theartisticqueen @chrisevans-world @literaturelove @ivorylei @elrw24 @pono-pura-vida @yinx1 @justile @sunsetfreedom05 @jackiekae @luvingmyships @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @bekinds @maxcullen @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful

#andy barber x black!reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x woc!reader #andy barber #andy barber au #defending jacob #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

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baekhvuns · 2 years

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BREAKING THE WALL once again... I'm AWAKE now (actually barely, but thanxx for yelling lol) aaaand our bird on the thumbnail! If they drop the medley tomorrow at 6 too 🤡 I won't be awake for once, but Friday??? I'll be there 🤗

Alright sooooo this is the ranking *nervous laughter* I'm ready to be cancelled. It was difficult, but I tried to be decisive </333 no hard feelings, most are almost on the same level. But seriously, bear in mind I appreciate all your stories, some just hit more than others, it all depends on various things, but my main point is "which ones did/will I re-read" let me know if you want me to elaborate further and explain myself lol

1. Bodyguard

2. TTWHY

3. Rewrite the Stars

4. LNFILA

5. Duke/Khronos

6. Mr & Mrs Park

7. Just Friends

What do you think, are you shocked 👀 what's your list? I need to think more about Seonghwa's, but I can feel that one will be much different which is hilarious

Absolutely INVU! The album is great, though I don't listen to slower songs that often, but I can play the whole album and be happy <3 I'm usually not the one to bitch about "X is the worst year in kpop" especially since lots of comebacks are coming, but something about this year hits less. We got some gems obviously, but a lot of groups disappoint. I loved the whole Oddinary which is shocking, hopefully same things happens with Movement

London's black taxis are iconic, but that's about it siudusjsjskdhdhshs, yeah expensive af. Other European taxis are just random cars, not so pretty

I know right? Cocomelon...? I'm afraid to ask. And the way they remake some of the shows in 3D like Winnie the Pooh I fucking cried when I randomly saw it once 😭😭😭😭 not my honey bear and his friends. Do you have fave childhood cartoons?

Our coconut head (my dreams of long haired Hwa just keep dying.... sigh) was so precious during that live which I kinda missed despite being at home I was just watching something else, butttt me and my friends bought the succulents set and the bouquet 2 weeks ago! So happy he got the succs too awww, but the fucking Starry Night I NEED. It costs as much as some of Hwa's limited pcs 🥴🥴🥴🥴 but really I thought "hope Lego gifted Hwa the Starry Night" 💗 *cries and dies*

I can't take care of plants and flowers, but if someone gifted me Lego flowers 😌 look at our flower

I chose San, cause he's in my bias line, but you can have whoever, I just think Woodies (is that the name? I keep confusing them) are very deprived 😅

Shittt I remember that AU now 👀 the worst nightmare, some little asshole from school getting rich meh. Unless it's Hwa ofc

I laughed at the random Woo in the sea of Hybe men lmao I got "in another life" aka soulmates, not my fave trope, but it can be well-done. Btw have you watched Makoto Shinkai's movies? Your Name, but Seonghwa AU <3 a new one is coming out this year, can't wait to tear up again. Weathering with You made me cry especially hard - DV 💖

hi hello!!

BFKWJDKE THE SEONGHWA AND BESTIE TODAYS THE FUCKINF SONG HIGHLIGHTS ITS TIME TO CLAIM SONGS 😭😭😭 also to preorder the album 🫠 IM BETSIEHFHWKDHWK CYBERPUNK AND SECTOR 1 AND NEW WORLDv,??????? ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE KPOP MADE AN ALBUM THIS GOOD

LMFAOOOO BDBDHD NO UR NOT GONNA BE CANCELED DUDHD NO THATS PERFECTLY FINE! I LOVE SEEING THE RANKINGS BC SOME SURPRISE ME BY “u lIKE THAT??”

1. Bodyguard

2. TTWHY

3. Rewrite the Stars

4. LNFILA

5. Duke/Khronos

6. Mr & Mrs Park

7. Just Friends

What do you think, are you shocked 👀 what's your list? I need to think more about Seonghwa's, but I can feel that one will be much different which is hilarious

 IM SO SURPRISED REWRITE THE STARS IS UP SO HIGH???? it’s like the early days of writing so i know it’s crappy in that terms so iM vv surprised that it’s even on the list fbfbfb LMFAOOOO I FEEL LIKE BB!HWA MIGHT BE NO1 ON UR LIST OTHERWISE I AGREE WITH UR LIST

for me it’s like :

1. mr and mrs park

2. ttwhy

3. let’s not fall in love, again

4. bodyguard

5. just friends

6. khronus

7. rewrite the stars

8. duke

do not ask why duke is there quite self explanatory 🔫

RIGHT !!!!! sometimes using invu as background noise >>>> d.o’s rose album is truly so comforting! i play it during i work or study or commute and my mood just 🤩🤩 nO i agree as well,, something about the ay ever since late last year to this year the cb’s have been repetitive or extremely experimental to the point it’s not even music anymore 😭😭😭 some groups were absolutely great! POOT MAH SNEAKERS ON FBWMDHEKHDEK GREAT ✊🏼 AMAZING ✊🏼 tbh i,,, for summer i kinda be expecting a full album of just summer genre,, kinda like exo’s kokobop album? it’s been years and i still play it every summer (today as well) and idk if it’s a lot to ask but groups these days don’t make cb’s that are memorable for a long time, it’s like releasing a song is a trend now and everyone’s doing it instead of making some really good music they also like to perform <3

London's black taxis are iconic, but that's about it siudusjsjskdhdhshs, yeah expensive af. Other European taxis are just random cars, not so pretty

LMFAOOOO i will channel my james bond whenever i get out of those black taxis 🔫 there’s some ugly taxi cars here too 😭😭😭

LMFAOOOO HDKWHDKW COCOMELON IS SO DUMB 😭😭😭🤚🏼 ???????????????? 3D WINNE THE POOH????? WHAT THE FUCK???? omg my favourites are shinchan, dragon tales, max and ruby, MADELINE, oswald!, clifford, pingu, hey look since im younger than u SOME ARE IN THE LATER YEARS OK anyways angelina ballerina <3

LMFAOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭 no fr he was so cute and his cheeks 😭😭🤚🏼🤚🏼 and his wide eyes 😭😭😭 AAAAAAA DID U GUYS COMPLETE THE SUCCULENTS?? IF LEGO DOESNT MAKE HIM THEIR AMBASSADOR WE DONT WANT IT that starry night looks sO DIFFICULT FBFBF ??????? WHAAAT????? AS MUCH AS PC’S????? omg stopppp 😭😭 buying albums atp is an investment fbfb

I can't take care of plants and flowers, but if someone gifted me Lego flowers 😌 look at our flower /// I chose San, cause he's in my bias line, but you can have whoever, I just think Woodies (is that the name? I keep confusing them) are very deprived 😅

THAT IS SO VERY TRUE ID DISPLAY AND SHOW THEM OFF EVERYWHERE,,, LMFAOOOO WOODIES ARE DEPRIVED?? 😭😭 their smut corner is 🔫🔫

Shittt I remember that AU now 👀 the worst nightmare, some little asshole from school getting rich meh. Unless it's Hwa ofc

JFBWKFJW UHUH EXACTLY THAT BUT ITS A LITTLE ✨✨✨🤌🏼 maybe i’ll write it fully one day 😭😭😭 kai will also make his appearance dhdh

THE SEA OF HYBE DBDBBVS omg soulmates au??? reminds me of atozfic’s hwa fic! omg but soulmates arENT THAT BAD,,, no maybe they are a little bit, a LITTLE,, YES I HAVE WATCHED YOUR NAME AND I SAW THAT TRAILER IM SO VERY EXCITED !!!! I ALSO RLY LIKE FLAVOURS OF YOUTH!! might go watch it in theatres tbh the visuals would be iNSANE omg i haven’t watched weathering with u,,, hOW IS IT?? i got this btw!

#✉️ : ask #dv 💖 anon #THE SONG PREVIEW DHWJHDKW

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mirrorforevers · 3 years

Text

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

#graham coxon #alex james #damon albarn #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #graham coxon x reader #graham x reader #y/n #fluff #au #fanfiction #blur band

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worminstuff · 3 years

Text

The Balcony of the Treehouse pt.3

sleepy bois x reader au

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“I want to preface this, I do love you all so much, but I'm incredibly disappointed.” Phil stared at the 4 kids in front of him. He knew his words struck as deep as they would to any kid hearing that from an adult important to them. Especially Techno, he strived to make Phil proud even more than Will. Y/n on the other hand, he wasn't sure of. She often was a chaotic wild card, and she didn't get much parenting from anyone other than him from what he's seen over the many years. Phil believes he's disciplined her more than her own guardians, and she listens to him. But she's also gotten herself in many tough situations all the same.

She's not necessarily his own, but he treats her as if she were.

Out of Techno and Y/n she was definitely not the mediator. The only time he's seen her relatively responsible, is when it comes to being home alone, and interacting with Tommy. Which both impressed him greatly, but not enough per say.

“I know all of you are stubborn, some more than others,” he directed his gaze to Techno, whos eyes seemed to hold more self loath than before, “but unless you all talk even a bit, it's only going to get worse.” he turned to Y/n and placed a hand to her shoulder, “i want you around. I know you don't tell me everything I should know, especially about home, but I know enough and I see enough. I want you here with us when you need us. And we need you too.” he watched as her eyes welled up with tears.

Y/n turned her head slightly to glance at Techno, who was finally looking at her for the first time since the night prior.

She watched his lip give a small wobble as his eyes seemed to fight back a bit of tears.

“He's not wrong.” Techno mumbled out.

Y/ns brows furrowed, “why would you need me?”

Techno looked at Tommy in Y/ns lap not wanting to look at her. Tommy realized he was looking at him, and upon seeing Technos teary eyes Tommys started to get a bit watery even.

“You're my only friend.. Who's gonna sit with me in the treehouse? Who's gonna listen to me ramble? I wouldn't get good morning hugs..i wouldn't get anything you do for me on a daily basis and i don't wanna think of that.” his voice was barely audible but Y/n could hear him. She felt a tear run down her cheek. Tommy looked up at her too, now wondering why everyone was crying. His face started to contort in baby-like sadness, smacking a hand on her leg, but not harsly. He was reaching up at her face. Y/n looked down at Tommy and her heart melted, she leaned down slightly and he set a small hand on her face.

“No more crying!” Tommy didnt often speak, he very much could, pretty well sometimes, he was just more physical usually when conveying his thoughts. Which made this situation all the more meaningful.

Phil was the only one who had looked at Wilbur yet, who was sitting silently watching Y/n and his little brothers, Wilbur had more tears on his cheeks than all of them. Well maybe not Tommy, but he was rivaling him.

Wilbur was realizing how Y/n really meant to Techno. But all the same, he was realizing how much she meant to him too. She was everything to him since he was 12 and realized he liked her. Since he was 15 and realized he loved her.

“Even Tommy needs you. Trust me, we all do.” wilbur said softly. Y/n looked over to him, her eyes softening, her heart hurt for him. Wilbur was really getting the worst of this situation.

Before she could say anything, he spoke again, “Techno i know you don't like how i feel but we're both being selfish. It very much isn't our decision to make for her.” he said to Techno but quickly looked back to her, after wiping away a tear, “not that i want to force a decision on you any time soon,” she nodded as she rubbed tommys back to calm him a bit.

“I just..it's..she's my Y/n” Techno looked at Wilbur, it was the first thing he'd said to him through all of this, and everyone was a bit taken aback.

“Your?” Y/n said, the most taken aback.

“I know that sounds bad but, but it's been us since..since forever!” his voice cracked slightly, he looked at her, “were us! Y/n and Techno! You're my person!” he was getting angry, “and you!” he looked to wilbur, “and you're my brother! You shouldn't get to try to take that away!” his face was growing red.

“That's not what i want! I don't want to steal her, she decides how she spends her time not me! If she wants to spend time with me shouldn't she be allowed to?” wilbur scowelled.

“I don't like this at all'' Y/n mumbled towards phil. “This is like some stupid cheesy movie with two brothers fighting over a girl. Its stupid to be frank. I think we should just..we should just get over ourselves yeah? Wilbur i..im not commenting on either of our feelings cause i don't want to. And Techno, I get that we are us and all, but I'm still my own person. I love you, and you're my person too, which is why you need to talk to me.” she wiped away all the tiers from before, as did Techno, and he nodded at her.

Wilbur was solem, he figured he was setting aside their problem as to not talk about it infront of Techno. At least he hoped that much.

“You're right, i'm sorry I was mad Y/n.” he felt entirely better.

“It's okay, no biggie.” She offered him a smile which he returned. “Treehouse?”

Techno nodded excitedly.

Y/n looked at tommy in his lap, he seemed less upset now, “see Tommy, not more tears,yeah?”

Tommy seemed to lighten up at that, so she looked to Phil who gave a silent nod and picked Tommy up from her legs.

Techno stood, looking at her to follow,

“I'll be a be up in a bit, go ahead.” she smiled and nodded towards the backyard. He nodded back and turned to go.

Phil left the dining room, leaving Wilbur and Y/n alone.

He looked at her with a small smirk, “do you still have my sweatshirt?”

Y/n's face reddened slightly, she pouted. “I wanted to apologize, you know.”

“You don't have to, Y/n” he chuckled.

“I slept in it actually.” Y/n mumbled, not looking into his eyes.

“In what?”

“Your sweater.”

His stomach felt queasy.

“Y-you did?”

“Erm..yeah. It was comfy. And i felt close to you..” she looked up at him, only to see the widest grin shed saw on him in a while.

“Well, i have a lot of them.” he leaned back in his chair, gaining a bit of confidence.

Y/n smiled shyly and stood up, “yeah because you're obsessed with spending money.”

“I'm so not!” he laughed slightly.

Y/n gave him a small giggle, “i'll see you later wilby.” her voice was soft and smooth, she leaned over the table and placed a small kiss to his cheek. Leaning back she watched as his eyes grew wide and his cheeks burned a faint pink before she turned to make her way to the treehouse.

Before he could get another word out, she was already outside.

Phil poked his head into the room, letting out an airy laugh.

“Yeah?” he said to wilbur, laughing at how shocked he still seemed.

Wilbur looked up at phil, “Dad?”

Phil nodded, “mhm?”

“I love her.” he had a starry look in his eyes. “Shes-she's-..” he was trying to think of a word when suddenly Tommy spoke up from phils arms again for the second time that evening.

“Pwetty!” he grinned and looked up at phil.

Wilbur and Phil both laughed softly.

“That's for damn sure..” wilbur smiled to himself and shook his head slightly.

Once Y/n had made it into the treehouse, Techno immediately pulled her into his arms. Y/n quickly hugged him around his shoulders.

Techno was tall, not as tall as Wilbur, but definitely taller than Y/n and tall for his age. He leaned down to rest his head on her shoulder as he hugged her.

Looking over his shoulder she noticed the contents of her bag on the floor, “so you found the book?”

Techno nodded into her shoulder, “can we sit?”

She nodded and slowly pulled away looking up at him, moving to the rug.

He sat in front of her, but reached his arms out. She smiled and moved to be in front of him, leaning back against him. They usually sat this way when he was reading, so he could either read to her or she could just sit close to him while he read.

Techno leaned his head on top of hers, and slid his arms around her waist pulling her close.

“Thank you for the book by the way.” he mumbled.

“Did you cry?” she smirked.

“I did cry. But not because of the book specifically.” he said.

“Oh.” her smirk fell. She put one of her hands on top of him, pulling it from her waist to hold on to his fingers. “Did you..sleep here?” she saw the way the blanket was on the rug and the book around it.

“Uh..yeah. I did.” he picked his head up to look at their hands. He flipped his hand so it was facing up, Y/n traced small patterns into his palm.

“I almost came up here..” she turned to look up at him.

Techno stared down at her, his eyes tracing each feature on her face. His free hand came off of her waist to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “I wish you had..”

Both of their eyes were lazy. “Will you tonight?” Technos eyes weren't on hers, they were watching her lips, and his hand was resting at the base of her neck, he could feel her pulse quickening.

“Yeah..of course.” she tried to contain her nerves at the way he was staring at her.

He stared at her a little longer before she moved his hand from her neck up to her cheek.

“You signed that letter “your Y/n”..” he mumbled, looking at her eyes for a split second.

“I did, yeah.” her eyes almost seemed glazed over.

“You're mine?” his eyes were wild, unlike hers. Her head lulled more to the side, into his hands at his words.

“Say it..i need to hear it please..” his words were so soft, but they felt like he'd just knocked the wind out of her all the same.

“I'm yours.” she stared at him, as he seemed to tense at her words. His eyes drifted to her lips again as he slowly leaned down to her, his face less than inches from hers.

“God..” he mumbled as his lips clashed with hers. She reached up behind her to rest her own hand on his cheek, pulling him closer.

Y/n could barely think clear with the way his lips felt on hers, he was being so gentle.

Meanwhile Technos thoughts were running rampant. The way her small hand felt on his jaw, the way her pulse was going so quick, the way her face felt so warm, the way she was still holding onto his other hand grasping it so tightly. And it was all his doing.

He pulled away for a moment, needing to know how she was feeling and what she was thinking.

As he pulled away Y/n gave a small whine, unhappy with how he moved away from her. Her eyes were still closed even as her brows furrowed.

He smiled softly down at her, he couldn't believe he'd kissed her.

Her eyes opened for a moment, finding his loving gaze.

He was about to pull her face back to his when they both suddenly heard a knock to the doorway of the treehouse.

Wiilbur was standing on the balcony outside the doorway. His eyes seemed almost empty.

“Dinners em..dinners ready. Dad sent me up to get you two.” he turned quickly, getting away from what he'd seen as quickly as possible, before they could see any sort of tears that had formed in his eyes.

This time it was Techno that had messed up royally.

^^^

pt 4

#dreamsmp #dreamteam #dream smp #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois incorrect quote #sleepy bois fanfic #sleepy boys inc #sleepy bois #sleepy bois au #philza #tommyinnit #wilbursoot #technoblade #techno fanfiction #techno x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbursootfluff

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good-rwbyaus · 3 years

Note

How does Yang react to the rumors her lil sis has become a professor

Perspective :: Yang // Becoming - mod lilac [ main chapter ] [ P: Weiss ]

logo-comics asked: What about an AU where everyone had somehow been under the mistaken assumption that Ruby was a professor at Beacon? For a laugh, Ozpin rolls with it whenever he's asked about it.

// this perspective piece was harder to write than I thought. also trollpin - lilac

---

“I’ll be sure to set aside an office for you, Professor,” the Headmaster spoke with mirth as he and Ruby spoke at Beacon’s courtyard, watching the students arrive for orientation.

“Stop calling me that! I just wanted to know if students could have their own private rooms!” Ruby stomped on the ground.

“Students, no. Professors, well...”

“Argggh!”

Yang was treated to the sight of her normally shy, bubbly sister hopping up and down angrily, pointing impolitely at the man that’ll soon be their Headmaster. Ruby’s uncharacteristic actions shocked her brain so thoroughly that she needed a moment to reboot.

“Wait! Yang?!” Ruby exclaimed upon spotting her.

“Hey, Ruby.” Yang replied dazedly before internally wincing at her unenthusiastic-sounding response - too shocked from her sister’s prior actions.

Luckily though, Ruby didn’t notice anything and was in fact enthusiastic enough for the both of them. Her sister’s eyes lighting up was the only warning she got before she felt Ruby pounce onto her, the other girl wrapping her in a tight hug.

“You made it!” Ruby happily said, “I missed you!”

Yang couldn’t help but hug her back smiling, not quite sure what’s made the other girl so affectionate, especially in such a public showy way.

“I missed you too, sis,” she replied warmly, patting her head. Come to think of it these two months have been the longest they’ve been apart in years. Even when she took mini-missions at Signal to prepare for Beacon, the longest interval was 48 hours. Curious at her sister’s sudden change, she asked, “Yeesh, what happened to you over the past two months?"

"Eh, you know. Landed a blow on my teacher. Got myself blown up a couple times,” Ruby started counting on her fingers, “Got dangled out of a tower. Accidentally made a mess of things when I fought in a real team for the first time. Uhhh, not exactly in that order. “ Ruby scrunched up her face, which made her laugh.

“Sounds like you’ve been having fun,” Yang replied with a grin, though she gave the girl a quick onceover to make she’s truly alright - which it looked like she was.

“Yup. At least when they’re not sticking me in a classroom or hanging out with this old troll here,” Ruby resentfully gave the Headmaster a glare.

Yang choked on her spit at her sister’s audacity.

“What did you say? I’m hard of hearing, Professor Rose,” Ozpin blandly stated, “I think I heard someone asking me that she wanted to have her professorship announced tonight.”

“Don’t you dare!”

She listened as the two bickered back and forth. Well, more like Ozpin speaking and Ruby reacting. Hearing Ruby talk like this to an authority still frazzled her brain, and it was only Ruby saying something even more unusual that brought her out of her daze.

“And you still won’t tell me their name!”

“Huh, whose name?” Yang asked reflexively, slightly worried about that little tidbit. Did oblivious-to-everything-but-weapons Ruby find someone she liked? At least someone will share Dad’s overbearingness when she started dating too. Ha.

“His weapon’s name,” Ruby pointed at the cane Ozpin was holding. “His cane. It’s really something special, but you can’t tell unless you get your hands on it.” She then smugly grinned, “which I managed.”

The Headmaster quirked up an eyebrow before retorting, “you wrapped your hands and legs around it like a sloth and then refused to get off.”

“AND his weapon’s heavier than it looks but in a way I can’t really describe - like something more than physical. And there’s something like a heart ticking away, and it’s been ticking for a long time like an ancient clock,” Ruby said animatedly, her words speeding up with her excitement, “it's like watching one of those films before scroll technology or remembering a long memor-”

Well, at least some things didn’t change - like Ruby’s weapon obsession.

"You know, it’s rude to talk about other people’s weapons without their permission, Prof-” Ozpin cut her off.

“Ah, sorry, Headmaster,” Ruby bowed before lifting her head, “Wait, stop calling me that!”

She had been so focused on her sister that she missed the Headmaster tightening the grip on his cane and the quickly-hidden shock on his face.

======================================================

She couldn’t move, her limbs locking under the beady red gaze of the Beowulf in front of her. It lifted its claw into the air, about to deliver its death sentence.

“Don’t hurt my sis!” A small five year-old ran in front of her, placing herself between the claw and herself.

“Ruby!”

Somehow, someway, she found the strength to move. She stumbled onto her sister and wrapped her arms tight around her, turning away and preparing to protect the younger girl with her body. To protect her from the consequences of the mess she created. She closed her eyes, prepared for the pain.

------

Yang groaned and slowly opened her eyes, lifting herself up to look at the other students snoozing around her. Ugh, she would have that nightmare again before Initiation started tomorrow. Or was it today? Crap.

Sleepy eyes shut closed as she flopped back into her sleeping bag, waiting for oblivion to claim her. And for a minute or two, she managed to be still as a rock.

“Argh. It’s useless.” She sat back up.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

The blonde quickly turned her head towards the raven-haired girl sitting by the windowsill, a book in her hands. Blake.

“Can’t sleep obviously. What about you?”

“I’m used to staying up at night. I’m reading an interesting book after all,” Blake replied cheekily.

Yang snorted, given that Blake had used that excuse to ignore her when she first tried to strike up a conversation.

“The Schnee Dust Company’s heir seems to have taken a liking to your sister,” Blake said casually, “If it were me, I’d treat it as a bad thing, but I guess it’s good to have someone's backing.”

“Nah. I was listening in on that conversation. The moment that girl spoke about having an expert maintain her weapon was the moment she lost Ruby entirely,” she laughed.

The scathing look Ruby gave the Schnee Heiress could’ve peeled paint. If there was an equivalent of a horse whisperer for weapons, it was Ruby. But as much as Ruby had disdain for those who didn’t respect their weapons, she wouldn’t show it - at least the Ruby of two months ago. She would’ve buried it deep inside and just be happy with the fact that someone was talking to her.

Yang sighed.

“...Ruby. She’s changed so much.”

“How so?” Blake inquired, closing her book shut.

“Hmm. Why so curious?” Yang pouted, holding her heart, “Especially when you didn’t want to hear anything about little old me?”

“Well, the opportunity to learn more about Beacon’s youngest professor is hard to pass up,” Blake then added playfully, “don’t worry. You’re still interesting.”

“I thought the professor thing was a joke,” Yang said in confusion, “Isn’t it?”

Was it though? She never heard Ruby outright deny it, just requested vehemently that the Headmaster not publicly announce it. Huh.

“I thought so too, but Ruby’s a bit special, isn’t she? Early entry to Beacon, taking solo missions, acting super casual with the Headmaster,” Blake replied, looking over at her, “It’s hard not to wonder.”

“I don’t think she is? I mean she would’ve told me, her sister - but...” Yang hesitated, “she’s changed a lot in the past two months. It’s like I don’t recognize my own sister anymore.” She grimaced, running a hand through her blonde bangs, “Ever felt that way about someone you’ve known for a long time and then bam what happened?”

Blake glanced outside the window and into the starry sky.

“Yeah, I know a bit about that... But what about your sis? Might as well get it off your mind,” Blake sat crosslegged, staring expectantly and sincerely, clearly ready to listen.

With some hesitation, she glanced over at the sleeping girl several tables over with the Schnee girl sleeping a couple sleeping bags over, not quite ready to give up trying to recruit her. Good luck, brat.

“Well my sis didn’t really have friends at Signal. She’s a loner but not really by choice. She tried so hard to fit in, but she never really clicked with anyone. No one really understood her or made the effort to.” Yang trailed off guiltily, “Maybe that’s why she could make the decision to come to Beacon so easily, because she had no one.”

“I... I kinda expected I would have to give her a pep talk when I came here,” Yang admitted, “because Beacon required its members to form a team, even more so than Signal. I thought I would have to cheer my sis on about how she’ll find the right team but also telling her that I can’t be her partner and she needs to learn how to work with others.”

“But instead I see a confident girl who no longer seems afraid to let others know who she is. I see a fish in water. I see someone who’s found their place in life and is holding onto it with her own two hands. And also apparently making small talk and arguing with our Headmaster till she’s red in the face. Ugh, I don’t even know if she’s a professor. ”

“Wait, so you seriously don’t know if your sister’s a professor?”

“Is that the only thing you took out of this?” Yang dropped her jaw, appalled, “I just poured my heart out to you, Blake! You have to take responsibility.”

The ebony-haired girl flushed wonderfully at her choice of words before grumpily rebutting, “W-who asked you to do that?”

A moment of silence passed between them, neither of them knowing what to say.

It was Blake who broke the silence. “I think...you’re just having complicated feelings on seeing your younger sister grow up. I mean you seem like a good older sister, so you’ve probably protected Ruby all this time. And now that she no longer needs your protection, you probably feel a bit lost but also a bit of pride too.”

“Huh,” Yang blinked several times pondering what Blake said for a couple seconds, and then she smiled, a bittersweet feeling in her heart, “I think you’re right. I’m happy she’s grown up, but I also kinda miss the girl who’d cry when her weapon would go missing. Haha.”

She then gazed playfully at Blake, “Oh Blake, why are you so wise?”

“Eh, I read it in a fortune cookie once,” Blake deadpanned without missing a beat.

“Ugh, and somehow my reverence for you has been lost,” Yang sighed before smiling, “But seriously, thanks for listening. Do you... Well... I heard you mentioned someone that you feel the same way about?”

Blake paused before shaking her head.

“Ah, sorry. It’s a long story, and it’s late, and...” Blake said before adding in a dramatic baritone, “you haven’t progressed enough on the Blake Belladonna social link to know about that yet.” She stuck her tongue out before turning over to the side to go to bed.

“Oh come on! Pour your heart out to me now!” Yang said dramatically but upon seeing no response from the other girl, she snorted, “Fine. I’ll get to bed, and I’ll totally unlock more of the Blake storyline in the future. Does it end in romance at least?”

“Ugh. I’m not dignifying that with an answer. Good night, Yang.”

Yang laughed.

-------

“And now even my sister thinks I’m a professor!” Ruby wailed at Headmaster Ozpin, pointing a finger back at her. Yang could only give the Headmaster an apologetic grin - probably should’ve asked Ruby in a more subtle way - as Ruby ranted on, “And no one else believes me when I deny it. That’s your fault!” Ruby groused.

“Don’t worry, Miss Rose. I’ll be sure to do something about the rumors this evening,” the Headmaster spoke warmly, “You can walk back to your seat and see how I resolve this.”

As soon as Ruby sat down, Ozpin stood up tapping his glass with the back of his fork. All the students fell into silence upon noticing who was making the commotion, and all the attention quickly fell on him.

“Ah-hem. I have an announcement to make,” Ozpin spoke calmly, “I would just like to say that Ruby Rose is not a professor at Beacon. The fact she is on a first name basis with all your professors or participated in a mysterious extracurricular activity two months prior to her entry to Beacon is completely irrelevant,” Ozpin continued on before pausing briefly, a spark of amusement in his eyes, “And I suppose the fact she graduated from Signal two years early is also not that important. That and her impeccable display with her team during Initiation. Alright, that is all. ”

The man glanced over at Ruby, his gaze clearly asking ‘are you happy?’ to the girl.

Ruby only beamed happily in satisfaction.

Oh my god.

Ruby was right.

Ozpin is a troll.

And she could only facepalm at Ruby’s complete obliviousness to the fact that Ozpin’s wishy-washy way of explaining things probably made things a lot worse.

Well, at least no one is going to call Ruby Professor to her face now.

Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.

#professor ozpin #rwby au #yang xiao long #rwby fic #rwby #ruby rose #ozpin #blake belladonna #becoming au #mod lilac #willow6010

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luvshuas · 4 years

Text

as we fall like flowers

pairing - joshua x reader

tags - soulmate!au + angst??fluff?? bit of both

synopsis - in a world where the universe gives you a soulmate, you still fall in love with joshua. even if he isn’t who you’re meant to be with.

word count - 1k

note - uhhh...yeah, this isn’t thoroughly edited or thought through but i needed comfort after the past week so here is the product

You could never figure out how he does it — how Joshua manages to look at you with such adoration, knowing someone else was his soulmate. His gaze put you on a pedestal. A symbol for everything that he loved in the world.

You loved Joshua just the same. How could you not? He was perfect in every sense of the word, but he still wasn’t your soulmate. Had the stories from your childhood — telling you of the flower petals that fell from one’s heart should they fall in love with someone other than their soulmate — been nothing but stories, you would let yourself dive headfirst into the starry eyes that belonged to none other than Joshua Hong, but with each passing day you feel a petal detach from your heart, floating down the chasm of your body until it can fall no more. You didn’t know what would happen if you ran out of petals on your flowering heart.

Joshua’s own heart was losing just as many petals, but he never talked about it. It didn’t hurt him, so why should he be concerned? If he had you, then there was nothing that the universe could do to put out the love he felt towards you. The love that he had stored for you; that he had built up from the time you first met when you were children. With every kiss you allowed him to steal, every night you slept tucked in his arms, and every shy smile that couldn’t be repressed whenever he’d look at you. They were all a part of him, all a part of the love he had for you.

“What if we meet our soulmates?” You asked once, breaking through the dark silence of your bedroom. Joshua’s arms were wrapped around you like most nights, but as the question left your lips, you felt them loosen around you.

“Then I’ll continue to love you,” Joshua mumbles tiredly. “Soulmates can be made, y’know? Not everything has to be decided by the universe.”

You consider it for a moment, the idea that soulmates can be made. If that were true then you would’ve made Joshua your own soulmate. “Maybe,” you say. “But what if you like them better? I mean, they are supposed to be your perfect match.”

This time Joshua sighs, “Perfection is boring. Who’s gonna argue with me over trivial things like the difference between eggshell white and pearl white if I’m in a perfect relationship?” Joshua’s question prodded a small laugh from you.

“You’re right,” you say, yawning. “It would be awfully boring.” Joshua hummed in agreement, letting himself slip back into unconsciousness. You followed soon after, wrapped in the warmth of Joshua’s arms.

But despite the reassurance you received that Joshua would love you no matter if he met his soulmate or not, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would truly choose to continue to let the petals fall from his heart if it meant he could love you. You liked to think that he would, but, unless the situation would arise, you could never know for sure. However, you never brought up the topic again. Ignorance was bliss, and you were willing to ignorantly love Joshua until the last petal fell from your heart.

Looking past the dwindling petals, there was something wonderful about loving Joshua. It wasn’t in a magical sense, but in the way he cultivated your love to form its own flower; one that wouldn’t lose any petals. One that would last forever.

“Do you ever wonder what’ll happen when we lose all our petals?” Joshua asked, taking you by surprise. It wasn’t like him to talk about the universe’s predetermined soulmates unless you brought it up first. Quietly, you looked at him, studied his side profile as he stared down at the plate of food in front of him at your kitchen table. He always liked sitting next to you instead of across from you when eating.

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll get a chance to be soulmates in our next life,” you say, watching a rainbow of emotions pass over his face. You wish the universe would’ve given you the ability to read minds instead of a soulmate, just so you could find out what Joshua really wanted to say.

Joshua turns to look at you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “Guess you’ll be stuck with me in our next life then.”

You couldn’t fight your own smile as you tell him he’ll be stuck with you just as well. You would be stuck with him for your next life, and the one after that, and the one after that, until you ran out of love in your heart. Then you would love him from the stars, hoping he’ll find someone to love just as much as he loves you. Because that’s what love is, wanting him to experience it even if it wouldn’t be with you. It would be selfish to only want his love to yourself, and while you were still selfish in this life to want to keep Joshua’s love to yourself, you knew you’d have to let him go one day.

“Why are you asking, by the way? It isn’t like you to talk about things like this,” you ask, studying his face once again. Joshua reaches a hand up to brush your cheek , his smile growing as he takes you in. There’s an underlying hint of sadness in the way he looks at you, but you don’t ask about it.

“Just asking questions. Nothing to worry about,” he says, lying through his teeth. There was something to worry about, and Joshua knew that, but he thought it would be better to not worry you with it. He could feel the last petal on his heart beginning to loosen, preparing to fall until it can fall no more. He didn’t know what would happen to him, and, truth be told, he was afraid, but he believed loving you would make whatever end he faces worth it.

“I love you,” you say. “I hope you know that.”

Joshua smiles, knowing the petal became looser, “I love you too. I hope you know that.”

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hoaqins-funk-house · 3 years

Text

White

Yandere

Slight AU

Part 1

This floor was lively.

Even so, you had heard all kinds of things about it, most negative.

Frankly, you didn’t care.

All it was was a stepping stone on your path up the tower.

Compared to the civilians you were walking past, you stuck out like a sore thumb, the large weapon strapped to your back making them shuffle past faster, heads down.

Again, you didn’t care.

You had gathered up the information needed to get past this floor before even getting here, learning (albeit briefly; the man telling you it all seemed scared) that it was ruled by an enigmatic man with red facial markings and long, white hair, and that in order to pass the floor, you needed to find seven of something. What that thing was, you didn’t know. Your informant clammed up after that, and you were disappointed to find such a valuable asset as him dead the next morning.

This white-haired man is thorough, that's for sure.

Still… that description. One of your old masters, from when you were still training with various weapons, had the most striking white hair. He didn’t have any red marks, though.

Shaded eyes trace the signs that lined the busy streets, your hat tilted down and your bandana pulled up fully. Your darkly colored, ragged clothes draw attention in the well-lit, colorful street, full of geometric, clean-cut buildings. It didn’t help that you were taller than the general populace, most of them reaching from your chest to your chin. You were only six feet tall.

Looking around, you wonder if you should ask for directions to a hotel. You need to rest after going through the last test, and then you could begin the hunt for the seven items. You also need to figure out what those seven items are.

You spot a small shop on your side of the road, entering and startling the woman at the counter, who seemed to be the owner.

“Excuse me.” You begin, her giving a wobbly smile as she stares up at you. “Do you know where I can find a hotel?”

She nods, bringing out a map and shakily laying it out in front of you. She points out the various hotels, and after your question about recommendations, she points to one close to the center of the city.

“It has relatively low prices, and the rooms are comfortable and pretty spacious.” She tells, swallowing her nervousness.

“I guess I’ll go there, then. Thank you.” You tilt your hat, soon exiting through the hanging bead curtains.

She stares at your back, her eyes on the weapon before raising to your head, which was topped with a strange three-point hat, a feather slicked back.

The moment a Regular enters this floor, a piece of their soul is taken. They shrink, and grow weaker; it had happened to her a hundred or so years ago, and she knew there was no escape for her.

But, for some reason, you’re fully sized.

Her eyes move to the phone on her counter, soon pressing various buttons and bringing it up to her ear.

“Is this the Vicente unit?” She asks, getting confirmation from the hidden voice. “There’s a regular, one who just arrived. They’re fully sized.”

There was a long pause on the other end, the garbled voice coming back right after. “Describe them; do you know where they’re headed?”

“Yes.”

What White was not expecting as he leant on the railing, looking up at the fake, starry sky, was to get an urgent message from the leader of the Vicente unit.

That word- urgent.

Never had it been used since he created his branches and took over this city, nearing 300 years ago.

Humming, he enters the building, taking the time to listen to his subordinate’s explanation. His eyes widen.

Fully sized? The only person who is fully sized is him, though if this report is true, not anymore.

“They’re at Shotstar Hotel, huh? Keep them under surveillance; I need to know their motives. Inform everyone in Vicente and Anna unit about them, and make sure they don’t escape your sight. Get Albeda unit to assign their object as the skull.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll inform them right away.”

“The first representative will be from Anna unit.”

White hangs up right after, looking back out the window at the city that seemed to glow, streets bustling with life- and an anomaly. He would’ve noticed when he consumed a piece of a new soul, but that hadn’t occurred.

This mystery person… how strange.

To escape his soul-scraping, without even noticing it was happening?

They must be extraordinary.

Lying in the bed, on top of the sheets, the only thing you had removed was your shoes, your satchels, and the intricate-looking weapon that now leant against the nightstand to your side. You sigh, arms supporting your head as you tilt your hat down, covering your eyes.

You knew it wasn’t a good idea to remove the items of clothing protecting your identity; your privacy was important to you and the camera hidden in the room's light was easily spotted. You couldn’t take it down, or else you would risk being more in the spotlight than you already were, what with your standoffish appearance and large size in comparison to the people on this floor.

You grab the hilt of the sword as a sudden knock breaks through your thoughts, soon calming as you realize what it is.

Standing up, you walk over to the door, opening it and revealing a pink-haired man, holding a bag. “Sorry to interrupt, but you are a Regular, yes?” You nod in response to his question, watching passively as he holds out the bag. It was somewhat large, looking to be around the size of a cantaloupe.

You take it, him bowing. “That bag has the instructions for this floor’s test. Please read them carefully. There isn’t a time limit on this test, but it’s one of the most challenging in the tower, even for those with exceptional strength.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

He begins to walk away, red eyes gleaming as you close the door, walking back to the bag and opening it. Your eyebrows raise.

A human skull sat inside, missing its jaw with a paper sticking out of its eye.

Humming, you pick it up out of the bag, unfolding the paper to read over it.

‘Your assigned object is the [skull].’ The note reads, a picture of the skull next to it. The last word had clearly been stamped on.

‘This test is similar to a scavenger hunt, where you look for the other six of your assigned item. Each item has its own distinct rules. The entire city is this test’s grounds.’

The next part was handwritten, not just the copy-paste text that filled the intro. ‘The skull is the most difficult of the items to get. Your targets will be wearing a pure white jacket with a red embroidered skull, and in order to receive the other six skulls, you must kill them. The fight will not count unless you or your target calls it. Good luck.’

The note was signed with the name Albeda, also stamped on.

You sigh, placing the skull and note in one of your satchels before turning off the lights and laying down once more. You’d start tomorrow.

Walking the streets, your eyes scrape the blue sky, puffy clouds lazily floating past.

Even with your bandana, you can smell something tasty. You hadn’t eaten anything in a while, so you glance around the street, seeing the small stall that was emitting the attractive scent. Dodging around perturbed civilians, you enter the stall, pushing aside the flaps before they could hit your face. Bells ring, the tassels holding them attached to the corners of the flaps.

“Welcome-oh, hello.” The man working the stall stammers as he sees you, soon calming down as you sit down silently, looking over the menu.

“I’ll have an order of this, and this.” You say, gesturing to the words. The man smiles fakely, nodding.

“Of course, coming right up.”

The few minutes after you had paid were filled with you thinking of a plan. The man hands you your food, you quietly thanking him before pulling down your bandana and beginning to eat.

You glance back as the bells ring, finishing your meal and quickly pulling up your bandana.

The person sits down, leaving a seat empty between you.

Your eyes widen as you look at him, the stall owner greeting him before letting him look at the menu.

You stand, placing a hand on his shoulder, covered in a white jacket.

“Excuse me. I believe you to be my target?”

He turns his head, revealing half-lidded eyes of a striking blue. His black hair was slicked back, and his navy suit was beneath the embroidered jacket.

“Of course. Let me eat first, though. Supportin’ businesses is a major factor in my unit’s work.” He smiles at the stall owner, who seems to realize that he isn’t just a normal patron.

He orders, and you sit back down, placing your head against the booth.

Who would’ve guessed that your first (technically second) item would show up without you even looking?

After a few more minutes of you mulling over whether or not it was a good or bad thing this guy showed up out of nowhere, you lift your head at his satisfied sigh, him smiling at you before placing sunglasses on his crooked nose, clearly having been broken a few times.

“Let’s go to a less populated area; we wouldn't want to hurt the peoples, now would we?”

You hum, following after him as he ducked into alleys and traversed the maze-like paths with ease and confidence.

“Say, that weapon of yours… it’s mighty strange for a fisherman to use something as large and clunky lookin’ as that.”

“It’s a specialty of my family.”

“Do they make or wield ‘em? That ain’t like any weapon I’ve seen before.”

“Both.”

“Such strange weapons ‘ould be the talk of the tower… what’s your family’s name?”

“I won’t tell.”

“Damn, it’s like I’m talkin’ to a wall… have some life, wouldja?” He complains, you shrugging.

“I don’t doubt we’re being listened to. Why would I reveal something like that? I just want to finish this test and continue up the tower.”

He laughs at that as you enter a flat area of concrete, looking like a basketball court without the baskets.

“Y’see, there’s a reason people talk so badly about this floor.” He grins, pointing to the other side of the slab, where you walk to. “No one has left after they entered. They can’t go back to the previous floors because they’re incomplete, and they can’t beat the test because of their weakness.”

“Incomplete?” You ask, him laughing again.

“Well, of course you wouldn’t know. You’re still whole!” His cackles echo a bit, you deciding not to question things further. If you were the only whole one, it meant that you were the only one who could complete the test. Everyone else was trapped, and honestly…

You didn’t care.

“Still, let’s begin, yeah?”

You nod, him grinning wider. “I am Cerro, representative of the Anna unit, also known as the Business unit! You must kill me to claim my skull, and continue your hunt.”

You hum lowly, drawing your blade from its folded, wooden sheath. One foot was in front of the other, toes pointing at Cerro. You watch with cold eyes as he claps his hands. “Let’s begin!”

He bolts forward, faster than you were expecting.

He must be a scout.

He turns on his heel as he whips his arm around, aiming for your face with a short needle. “You’re so damn mysterious!” He shouts, you blocking his attack and waiting to see his next action. As he struggles to slash your face, you drop, sweeping his leg and watching as he flips backwards, landing smoothly.

“Won’t you attack? Come after me!” He prods, throwing the needle with deadly accuracy. You block it, watching as he whips it back by the cord that went from his arm to the bottom of the needle.

He can use short and long range attacks, and is quite fast.

You block a surprise kick to your side with a grunt, continuing to observe the man as he runs around, never letting you see his exact location. The kicks and slashes keep coming, you blocking them all and not moving from your spot until he appears behind you, you turning in time to block the heavy kick, but not without sliding back a meter or so.

“Come on! Attack me!” He shouts, irritated.

You hum, looking up at him with gleaming eyes.

You had spent the time analyzing his pattern, how often he kicks, how often he slashes, how long it takes for him to recover after each failed attack hit your blade and sent shockwaves through his arms and legs.

“Now, I know your pattern.” Pointing the sword at the shocked man, he shakes his head.

“Pattern?! I attack at random, there is no pattern!”

“There is, I can assure you that.”

He growls, running around again, speeding up as he grows more and more irritated.

After a few moments, he leaps into the air, needle aimed at the back of your neck. His wicked grin falls as he watches you slam the hilt of your sword into the folded wooden sheath, spinning around as the sheath unfurls into a full, at least six foot long, grip, fully changing your sword into a scythe. Now facing the man as he rapidly approached you, you slash the scythe, hooking him.

For a brief moment, he thought that he had won, seeing as he was still falling at you, and your blade was behind him.

Soon, his reality hit him.

You twist to the side, bringing the blade along with you.

He was ripped in half with ease, mouth agape as blood poured out of both halves, more of the crimson escaping his jaws. It splatters everywhere, covering the ground and you, much to your annoyance.

He watches as you whip the sheath closed, placing it on your back once more and sheathing your sword.

“How… so easily…”

You shrug. “I spent over 400 years training with different styles. It’s not that you’re weak.”

His sunglasses had fallen off as he watched you wait, looking around.

As you said, it’s not that he was weak, no, he hadn’t lost in the 200 years he had been Anna unit’s representative, but rather that you…

You are strong. Much too strong.

There’s no way someone like you didn’t get chosen earlier on.

His eyes close soon after, feeling his last breath escape him.

You turn to him as he finally slips away, watching as a mark appears on his forehead, the diamond shape soon burning away his skin and muscle, stopping at the neck as his skull rolls to the side. You pick up the skull, leaving the jaw behind and placing it in your satchel, next to the other one.

You stretch.

Five more to go.

White stares at his screen, a desire to fight coursing through him as he watches you walk off.

There were cameras everywhere, and with the Vicente unit’s help, there was no problem in finding you.

He leans back, humming, a wide grin on his face.

Watching you kill one of his stronger men…

It excited him.

He, of course, already knows you will be the source of discourse. First, the soul-scraping doesn't work, and now, how easily one of his higher-ranked men fell. His men were already speaking of you, but now that you’ve killed Cerro?

You would be known across the city.

He grins, watching as your silhouette disappears into the alley. “Ah, mysterious stranger… what an alluring sense of power.”

And, strangely enough, a familiar one.

His eyes trace unrecognizable shapes into the ceiling as he leans back, thinking.

Had he ever been around someone like this new arrival?

He hums, narrowing down his scope.

It would’ve had to be before he was chosen to climb, before he became a regular.

When he was training.

Wait…

When he was training!

He grabs his phone, quickly calling the head of the Vicente unit. “I need you to find out everything you can about this regular. Identify them. The next representative will be from David unit, send her in six hours.”

“Of course.”

He hangs up quickly, standing and walking over to his window, where he exits onto the balcony, an uncontrollable grin on his face as he stares over the lively city, shaking hands gripping the railing as he holds in an excited laugh.

His trainer had many disciples, but the only one who stood out to him was the one he assumed to be you. You were the only one there not of Arie blood, the only one wielding such an unruly-looking weapon. It was different from this scythe however, being a cane that extended and split into sections, used like a bladed whip.

You had been there solely to train, but his interest in you never dwindled. You never looked his way, nor had you ever even acknowledged his (or anyone else’s) presence. You were always so interesting, so aloof, so silent, and so strong.

Now, you were even stronger, even if you had begun to speak more, you were pretty much still the same.

He had always wanted to fight you, and with how the last fight went, he could assume he would be able to, soon enough.

He looks over this city, his city, a sense of both danger and ease clashing through his mind.

There were no rules saying the final boss couldn’t show himself before the battle, and no rules saying he had to disclose his status as a target.

Nothing held him back from finally getting you to see him.

#hoaquin #hoaqin #arie hoaqin #hoaqin tog #hoaqin arie #white #white tog #white x reader #hoaqin x reader #tog #Tower Of God #tower of god x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere tower of god #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader

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kacchand · 4 years

Text

Request: bookshop!au with doyoung pLS (uhhHHHhhh 2:32 p.m. pls? or 3:59 a.m. lol)

may have gotten carried away

[ 2:32PM ] [ Doyoung + bookshop!au ]

“Funny,” you scoff. You might be in no place to judge due to your own resting b*tch face but, that guy in the blue sweater doesn’t look like he needs guidance from any book titled, ‘The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck.’

With his knitted brows and slight scowl, he looks like he’s got that mastered to a T – unless of course he’s working on making his ‘not giving a f*ck’ subtle, then if so, may he carry on.

You’ve personally thought over whether to buy that book or not, because you yourself could use some letting loose. You’re not one to self-diagnose, but this anxiety feeling is piling up like a penguin’s mating stone pile. It’d be nice to buy a book to read for leisure but, here you are, buying a study guide instead.

Taking the guide in your hands, you queue up to the cashier. And as you get there, you spot the guy in blue again. You scuttle behind him, peaking over his shoulder as he hands his credit card over. Looks like he’s decided to buy it.

“There are more of these on aisle nine if you want one,” he mutters, his voice low and almost demanding. Eyeing your surroundings, your heart quickens its pace when you realize that you’re the one he’s muttering at. “Yes, I’m talking to you.”

You purse your lips and nod, trying to contain your giggle at how stupid you look. “Sorry, I’m just nosy by nature,” you apologize, scrunching your nose.

The cashier takes his card and scans the cover of the book, giving you enough time to sneak a peek at his face. Now that you’ve gotten a better glance at him, it’s only now that you realize that this boy is quite the eye-candy. You want to continuing staring in a way that won’t bother him but seeing as he had felt your gaze on his book before, you decide on otherwise.

But as fate must have it, the cashier itself malfunctions and leaves you waiting by his side, giving you a few more seconds of admiring to spare. The manager opens another register and those behind you scramble that way. It’s almost like you’re given time alone with the handsome stranger…alone…in a mall, with at least twenty other people in your vicinity…alone.

“Actually, I’ve been wanting to buy that for a while now,” you admit.

He looks to you with a little amused grin, “Well, why don’t you?”

You smirk, raise your wallet. “Money.”

Like a sign for mutual understanding, he chuckles, mouth gaping to go ‘ah’.  “You go to ___ too, right?”

Nodding, you point to your uni’s symbol on your worn hoodie. “Good guesser?” You ask playfully.

He tilts his pretty head and all the jet-black hair strands fall downward. Leaning over you, he sends you a gentle smirk. “Might’ve seen you around a couple times.”

You try not to let that comment make its mark on you, but your heart can’t help but flutter. It’s not every day a handsome man acknowledges your presence—or remembers you, for that.

The cashier lady still struggles to try and mend the machine, looking to the guy with apologizing eyes. “I’m so sorry for the delay. This machine has been acting up all week.”

Contrary to how you thought he would’ve reacted, he politely nods, mutters an ‘it’s fine’ and turns back to you. “Trying to learn not to give a fuck?”

You shrug and raise your book this time, placing it onto the marble counter. “Trying to learn maths more like it. But not giving a fuck would be nice to pick up along the way too,” you joke.

“I could teach you more than this book ever can.”

Your lips curl into a smile and so does his, revealing his pretty bunny whites. And just like a magic switch, the cashier makes a ding sound and the things get working again.

Right before she’s able to put the book in the bag, however, the boy takes it and scribbles something on the front page before putting it in the paper bag himself. Once finished, the lady hands it over with the receipt and turns her attention to you. Your mind, on the other hand, has still not left the brainstorm chart it has made about the man to your right.

Blue Sweater is about to walk off, and you want to do something about it. And it turns out, so does he, a fact that catches you by surprise as you feel a hesitant tap on your shoulder. You stare, starry-eyed and raise a brow at the extended paper bag at your chest.

“Huh?”

The confidence that was imminent in him before begins to falter as he scratches the nape of his neck, his lips pursed in a nervous attempt to seem cool. “This was actually for a friend of mine, but it looks like you need more ‘not giving a fuck’ than he does. He won’t read this anyways,” he explains, shaking the bag for you to grab it before he changes his mind.

You take it with the biggest smile plastered on your face, your stomach churning slowly into a hot mess as you try to find words to match your feelings. But, again, he beats you to it.

“Besides, I think I like you better than him already.” You gape.  He waves you goodbye and sends you a cheeky smile before walking off with his wide shoulders turned to you, hands in his pocket to complete the look of bravado.

You’re left in awe as the cashier lady chuckles. “Well, what’s inside? He scribbled something in there, didn’t he?” Her nosy words make you giggle more than scoff, especially when your eyes scan over the careful penmanship on the front page.

‘I don’t normally do this type of thing, but today, I’ve decided maybe giving a fuck or two wouldn’t hurt. So, call me? xxxx-xxx-xxx – Kim Doyoung’

With not much to lose, you take out your phone. With a stupid smile on your face, you dial it out, not thinking twice when you press your thumb onto the green button. It rings twice.

“Hello?”

“Hey, how’d you like to read this book with me? I mean…it’s the only way for me to really learn the true ways of the art.”

You hear a chuckle. “I think it’s only appropriate that we scrutinize each line together. For proper analysis of course.”

You read his name inked in pen. Kim Doyoung. Doyoung. You’re going to make sure you hear of that name more often.

“But of course.”

#nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct oneshot #nct #nct blurbs #nct drabbles #nct angst #kim doyoung #doyoung x reader #nct x reader #doyoung #nct doyoung #nct au #nct 127 #nct fanfic

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killjoynest · 4 years

Text

Danger Days Fic List

(with absolutely no rpf) These are solely from Jan-Feb

It gets pretty long so its going under a read-more

Pre canon:

do you see? (you're the reason I can't sleep!) by wondercurls1917 (wip)

The Fabulous Killjoys, once upon a time, were neither fabulous nor killjoys. There are certain things one must know about how they got there...

Only one chapter, but a fun look into a backstory for the fab four with fun (read: awful) facts about growing up in bat city

Cold Metal by sera_wasnever

Blue comes to work in the lobby for the first time, and catches someone's attention

Ladies and gentlethem its about everyones favourite lesbiandroids what more could you want?

Like There’s No Tomorrow by iggyvoid (wip)

A seemingly perfectly conforming BL/ind employee, Nicolas Guerra, meets his fate when he is "mistakenly" placed inside of an in-mind facility alongside none other than killjoy poster child Party Poison. It's up to them to figure out what they're going to do with themselves with the time they have left.

I mean, if you really need a reason to read this outside of the description there is a Terrible Joke in the 3rd chapter

Living with Ghosts by valvelocity

Ghoul finds an old Ouija board and decides to try it out.

It doesn't go *exactly* as anticipated...

What i learned from this is that if you leave Kobra and Ghoul alone in the diner they immediately try to summon ghosts. Absolutely superb.

With All These Things We Invoke Here by DoubleMstectomy

A routine mission in Zone Two goes badly, forcing Val and Vinyl to reconsider the nature of their relationship.

The Comic Clownsquad but like, soft and gay(er)

Rickety Hands by stumpsucc

Yeah its gay stop scrolling

Constellations by sera_wasnever (wip)

There's a family in the finding. There's kids making it up as they go along. There's a war going on.

[slams hand on table] backstory! Old gangs! What looks to be someone ill-equipped for babysitting! we love to see it

Artificial Heart by Cinnibun_Krysanthemum (wip)

Better Living Industries works to make everything perfect. Emotions not authorized by BL/ind are imperfect. Thoughts and actions that are unapproved by BL/ind are imperfect. Defects in any part of life- a building, a road, even a person- if left unfixed, are imperfect. Imperfections must be fixed. They are threats.

Any small detail or imperfection that could ruin life inside Battery City must be changed or removed, no matter the cost.

Sometimes, that cost is a person; a life.

A different take on the fab fours meeting! Jet Stars no good very bad day contained within!

Cut my Hair by A_Ghost_Called_Boo

The venom brothers make some impulsive decisions and turn their lives upside down

And i feel sibling validation in this chillis tonight… poison&kobra city days, heed the warnings!

Cause I Love All the Poison by ravenphantom

Party Poison discovers what accepting a strange drink at a party gets him.

Sometimes a night out with the lads just has vampires we’ve all been there

all your failures will die starry-eyed by TheElusiveOllie

"When you meet Jet Star, he's already lost two whole crews and has settled for running solo rather than risk losing a third. You learn that Jet Star can shoot a flattened can off the hood of a car at two hundred meters without so much as leaving a scorch mark. You learn that Jet Star can do long division in his head without thinking twice about it, and that he can tie a tourniquet in the middle of a clap without breaking a sweat. You learn that he knows how to prep a needle to draw blood in an emergency, how to flame-sterilize the nearest tool so it can cut away necrosing flesh, how to stitch a wound one-handed. You don't ask him how he knows any of it, and he never says."

Mind the tags! I havent finished reading this one but its a fun origin story

AUs

Once you go hazy, you’ll understand by spellingbee (wip)

Battery City has fallen to ruins, taking Better Living Industries with it. With no one to rebel against any longer, the killjoys have disappeared into the past.

Fifty years later, Party Poison and their crew stumble upon an old, abandoned diner.

None of them expect to find a ghost inside.

All these ghosts… and Party still can’t find a boo (...unless?)

I’ll Never Hurt You by ACatWithManyFandoms (wip)

Andy wakes up hungover after a party at his best friend's, a party which may have been the biggest event in his life.

If your bro doesn't instantly mock you for possibly being a vampire, is he really your bro?

OC centric

Late Dawns and Early Sunsets by Crash_Cat

Four killjoys spend a long night under the stars, experiencing what freedom tastes like.

A short story featuring me and my best friends as killjoys.

Oh to be a killjoy hanging out under the stars with your friends, fresh dye on your hands.

Home by Felix_the_worm

The crew get caught in a sandstorm and discover an abandoned house filled with secrets. But is it really as empty as it seems?

(Part 2 of Late Dawns and Early Sunsets by @killjoy-crash-cat on tumblr.)

Maybe the real friends were the people whose house we broke into along the way

#Danger Days #danger days the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #killjoys #fic #fic list #ttlotfk

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a-collection-of-villainous-aus · 5 years

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Coffee Au pt 2

PART 3 OF THREE

It was the end of the day, Acylius and Demencia wanted to do nothing more than just sink into one of the comfy seats and doze off but work still had to be done.

As Flug was cleaning away mugs and other items he could still taste Black Hat on his tongue, lingering in its flavor the apple of Eden, he wanted to bite again, savor him anew but the demon was not exactly famous for being sweet so no doubt the next would be bitter…right?

“Boy what a day, am I right or am I right tree man!”

Acylius was silent as he looked over at Black Hat’s empty seat, he’d seen him leave, some work emergency no doubt, money had been left on the table but he’d found himself disappointed that the demon wasn’t still there demanding to be served after hours, crazy as the day had been it had actually been surprisingly fun to have him around.

“It is strange... “

“What that he digs you and not me? “

Demencia teased gently nudging him.

“Please be serious for one moment, you will not believe this, but I do feel as if I know him from some other life...there were things today that felt... so familiar.”

Exasperation filling his voice as he walked off to pick up a latte glass that was half full, grumbling they should not order the large if they were not going to drink it all.

“Oh, like what?”

“Well, when we kissed after you suggested he could help...”

Touching his lips as he looked over at the kitchen, whispering

“It did not feel like the first time.”

“Pffft seems I was right he wanted to lip lock and suck your soul right out of your-”

“Demencia, that is enough!” Flug dropped the glass he was holding, it shattered across the floor spilling its cold contents, liquid started seeping through the floorboards, oh dear she realised perhaps she’d pushed a little too far as his eyes lit up and she was dragged forward Darth Vader style only without the throttling . His hand engulfed in cerulean flame, claws extended forward and with a flick she was off her feet hovering, snarling “I am trying to run a coffee shop, not a brothel while we are friends I do not need you interfering with my love life.”

In all her years she’d known Acylius, the lizard girl had never seen such a fire as this burning within him, damn Black Hat must have more of an effect than he was willing to admit, rolling her eyes she responded “You think you could put me down, also you old fart what love life, you’re like fifty and have boned like what …once and that was with someone who was for hire to play as Black Hat, I mean I’ve offered cause who doesn’t wanna climb that tree and sit on your branch, but you were as flustered as a sinner in church.”

(Remember demon so not like human 50 XD )

“Woman…argh!” Acylius tried to keep a straight face, but honestly he could never stay mad at her, a chuckle left him as the demon shook his head and set her down

“You are hopeless.” “Yeah, yeah I know I’m a lost cause, but why is it so hard for you to believe he likes you?” She returned while straightening out her uniform. “Please, I do not think he would find a suitable partner in a barista who tortures people for information on the black market… holy…” Acylius went quiet and blinked looking at Demencia “Is that why the Black market is called that! My alternative profile is in that world...I need a drink ...am I working for him and not…know what no this is too much too soon, I am going downstairs, I am going to drink and torture that man until he is a bloody pile.” Demencia gave him a deadpanned expression in response “One: it is not for you to decide who he wants to bone and two: you seriously only just figured that out, you’re smart but sometimes really dumb.”

Acylius sighed and just walked off hearing her call out after him saying “And what about this!” It was easy to imagine her gesturing towards the spilt coffee “You clean it up, ASSBUTT!” Demencia huffed; she should never have let him watch Supernatural, mocking his sentence in a whiny voice before getting to work and only smiling as she swore she could hear the muffled voice of him saying “I heard that!” Pffft of course he had, demon senses and all, it was no surprise and yes it probably wasn’t wise to try and interfere with her friends love life, especially when it left her to clean up duty instead of getting to play just how long can we make our victim scream.

Picking up the pieces of broken glass she paused looking out the window, wondering up on that high hill where Hat Manor sat, what the old demon was doing now, heh maybe he was even day dreaming of Acylius, that’d be pretty adorable.

Hat manor stood silhouetted, painted on a sea of blue and purple, diamonds scattered over its surface, there was no moon tonight, though this is not what we are here to do though, while the night sky held its beauty the home held its secrets deep under the foundations. Down winding stair cases of stone, walls lined with torches that came alight as Black Hat passed them with bright emerald flames leading to a room, large extravagant, doors locked with spells reacting to his presence, opening out to show the pristine display with a red carpet. Glass cases that remained in a constant polished state appeared liquid with candle light reflecting off their surfaces, to many people these items would be considered odd in the sense they to anyone else held absolutely no value…but to Black Hat they were treasures and when each one was touched he could remember a small moment attached to each and every one of these things… Recalling how his Acylius had taught him to use a barbers blade for shaving, he himself did not grow stubble or the such unless he wanted to and he had suspected the same of his Doctor, who liked to do human things as simple as that.

It was not that he’d allowed Black Hat to shave his face that had made the memory but that he’d trusted him so close to his throat with a blade, it may not have killed him even if he’d wanted it to slit it.

Though that was the thing with anyone else he would have hacked them to pieces and laughed, in that moment he’d slowly brushed the razors edge along his flesh, intently focused on the task at hand, leaving him mesmerized at just how intimate a simple act could be and how it felt to be trusted by him.

The demon had not been down here in some time, that did not mean what was here had lost any meaning, no on the contrary at times being here caused so much pain he could hardly bare it.

Walking slowly through this world of past wonders, there were mannequins in neat rows wearing suits, everyday clothing to swim wear and pyjamas, some clothing items pressed into picture frames, stopping in front of one case in particular a small quirked at the corner of his lips, on a cushion sat an old tattered Bear, blue after some chemical accident when Acylius had been a child or so the doctor had told him. This was kept for more than one reason, one Acylius had loved it dearly and two even as a grown demon he’d found him sometimes napping with the damn thing tucked under his arm, apparently you could never be too old to enjoy a favored gift from the past, claws making soft tapping sounds on the glass.

“What an odd name for a child’s toy…Five o Five…then again there is that silly old bear named Winnie the Pooh…”

He said to himself in passing thought.

Just being here already felt as if a hand had reached in around the void that passed for his heart and was slowly crushing it, glancing over at the beautiful cello he and Flug had played together, the intimacy of creating music on the same instrument so passionately had near rivaled their passion within the sheets…before you wonder yes Black Hat even had their four poster royal Georgian bed perfectly made as the doctor would have wanted it.

Lab equipment that museums would beg to have, first edition books that could very well be the only remaining copies of the texts within some of them…yes he’d saved practically everything, did it perhaps make him obsessed…incapable of letting go, you might think so and yes it probably was the case.

He himself could not forget the way the barista had kissed him, it was a perfect match to the way his Acylius performed such affectionate acts, the same passion a memory so real and tactile rising to the surface and layering perfectly to match the movements of want. Thinking back on this afternoon as he’d sat there sipping his hot chocolate, listening at times to the inane conversation of others and hearing the name of the Café he’d failed to read the name of upon entry in favor of warmth than the cold weather. He stared at one dark oak closet a mannequin stood in there locked away, blood stained clothes, the salt of tears within the collar, even a beast could weep when its heart was broken, shoulders tensing just at the minor scent of iron and acid he adverted his gaze. Could that Barista really be Acylius Flug reborn, the man who’d lay dying in his arms , promising him he’d find him amongst the stars…rambling about artists who place their soul upon the canvas, full of hope and pain, madness full of splendid wonder and final words being of love until there were none. Kisses upon lips that no longer held their warmth as a mournful cry left him whimpering like a child lost in the wilderness of the vast world.

Acylius’s body no more than a limp doll that had lost its light and as with all demonic forms he turned to smoke and ash washed away with a tender breeze littered with embers while all he could do was watch.

Even though he had barely understood what his lovers last message had been, for years he’d sought out painters who favoured the night skies, though none matched the pure emotion of which Flug had spoken until one Starry Night in France just outside the Ravoux Inn he came across such an artist. A rough looking creature really with a missing ear, in fact he’d nearly passed him until this man had grabbed his arm and Black Hat had at first thought him mad until he spoke of a spirit tall and pale, scars and ears not human and eyes so blue no matter the blend of colours he’d tried to use the ever changing hue had been impossible to match.

Up the stairs of that humble place the artist called home he entered, moonlight pouring through an open window, curtains swaying ever so delicately behind the easel sat a canvas not long since painted on, just as promised in thick oil paints of swirling night time wonders, blacks, blues bright shining yellows in a myriad of hues there stood Acylius eyes closed within the heavens.

“I have dreamt about this man yet I do not know what sins I have committed to bring devils and spirits at my door!” Black Hat given him a look before replying “Even Angels it would seem have mercy on a fallen devil.” He’d without second thought left a fortune upon the old bed in the artists room and taken what was rightfully his, news of his death had been reported not but a few days afterwards which even in the demons opinion was a great tragedy.

Now on the wall here it hung still years later, framed in gold with a bench for him to rest upon, other pieces at either side by Flugs hand were portraits and sketches of Black Hat…but this one in the center had been a gift from the beyond , a promise that he was coming back.

That barista had to be him, had to be his Flug; the café was named after a painting no one but he and the painter knew about. Could it be, he’d finally truly found him amongst the stars.

(this is a poor version of the Artists work I was inspired by, especially if you figure out who I was talking about...but as my own work I like it XD)

#coffee au #paperhat #villainous au #villainous #acylius flug #Black hat

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trafalgarlawsdepression · 5 years

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Live the Good Omens AU. Related: Sanji threatening somebody with a spray bottle is hilarious, but also Zoro and Sanji having a "you go too fast for me" conversation makes me sad. I'm not if that whole thing would go like it did in canon, but if so 😢

I done wrote a little 😳😳😳 (Edit: it’s on ao3 as well now uwu)

Ignoring the humans passing him by, Sanji made his way to the Bentley. Its black lacquer reflected the neon lights of the streets and as per usual the impression wasn’t ruined by a single scratch, he noted with pleasure as he opened the door and got in.

He didn’t notice when Zoro appeared, but it didn’t exactly surprise him either. One can’t get thrown off by someone appearing and disappearing as they please as a demon, not unless one wants to be a rather useless one, at least. Thus, Sanji just got straight to the point.

”What are you doing here?” He asked, peering at Zoro through the dark lens of his monocle (He’d been told on numerous occasions that it made him look a little odd, but it did the job of covering up what his hair couldn’t quite nicely. Besides, he thought it made him look dashing).

Zoro didn’t meet his gaze, just stared out at the people passing by the car.

”I needed a word with you” He said, not elaborating further. This, of course, forced Sanji to ask him what said word might be, annoyance seeping into his voice. For once, though, Zoro didn’t seem to react to it.

”I work in Soho, you know. And I hear things” He paused ”Hear that you’re setting up a…caper to rob a church”

Sanji sighed and rolled his eyes, mentally cursing whoever had let slip of the venture (And in his case, mentally cursing someone, actually meant something for that poor sod). Before he could say something pointed to Zoro, he was cut off.

”You know it’s too dangerous. Holy water, I mean, it won’t just kill your body. It’ll destroy you” Zoro’s tone had been casual, but Sanji thought he sensed some worry as the angel added ”Completely”

Too bad he couldn’t enjoy it properly.

”Yeah, you told me what you think” He snapped ”A hundred and five years ago, to be precise-”

”And I haven’t changed my mind” Zoro raised his voice as well ”But I’m not letting you risk your life. Not even for something dangerous, so…”

He reached down to the floor of the passenger seat, retrieving a plastic bottle in a dreadful, neon green with the words ”NATURAL gym” on it. It made a sloshing sound and Sanji’s eyes widened as he realized what he was looking at. Without a word he reached out when Zoro handed it to him.

”You can call off the robbery” Zoro finished, just as Sanji’s hands touched the bottle. For a moment he would’t let go, and Sanji was afraid he was going to change his mind. But finally he let go and finally he looked Sanji in the eye, with an expression too much of a mix of emotions for Sanji to be able to completely read. There was that angelic sternness, of course, but beneath was something else. Almost a plea.

”Don’t go unscrewing the cap”

Sanji swallowed.

”It’s the real thing?” As if the very cells in his fingertips loudly protesting just from holding the plastic wasn’t confirmation enough.

”The holiest you’ll get” Zoro nodded, once again turning to the street. Sanji held onto the bottle for another moment before he carefully put it down on the floor.

”After everything you said” He tried to sound teasing, even tried a smile, but it came out sounding more starry-eyed than he liked. Lucky for him, Zoro didn’t seem to be listening entirely. He just stared at the street in silence.

”Well” Sanji tried after a few minutes of neither of them talking ”Can I drop you off anywhere?”

”No, but thank you” Zoro turned to Sanji again, his voice just barely slipping into a familiar, teasing tone as he continued ”Now don’t look so disappointed. Perhaps we could go for a picnic or something one day, I don’t know. Dine at the Ritz. Now wouldn’t that be something?”

”I’ll give you a lift” Sanji offered ”Anywhere you wanna go”

He held Zoro’s gaze, feeling something hopeful grow in his chest at the lack of an immediate declination. But then, Zoro’s eyes shifted to the floor of the Bentley.

”You go too fast for me, Sanji” He murmured.

And he left the car.

And the moment was over.

#zosan #i rewatched that fucking scene for this please appreciate it it literally murders me every time

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cetaceans-pls · 5 years

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One Ring That Had To Do It To 'Em (Inktober 2019: Day 1)

It really takes just the One Ring to bind ‘em.

Modern Day LOTR AU, DGM LaviYuu. Inspired by this video by CGPGrey.

Three Rings for the Elven Lords under the Sky

Seven for the Dwarf Lords in their halls of Stone

Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die

One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them

One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

"You'd think, yeah," Lavi says, "that with everyone goin' absolutely buck wild for this, they'd have sussed it out by now."

The Ring makes a pretty twang as Lavi flips it into the air, and clinks! against a duller, less magical counterpart like a toast of champage glasses as Yuu grabs it out the air.

"What part of offering endless temptation do you not get?" Yuu asks irritatedly, knotting it back into a braid hanging by his face. He used to keep it where he tied off his ponytail, but this made it easier to see 'em coming (and Eru Ilúvatar save us all, do they come). "You talk big cock for a dumbass human who can't hold it for more than, what, 30 seconds, before you talk hot shit about harnessing its power for the human race."

As far as he's read, and Lavi's read an awful lot, elven hair's not any more or less magical than the rest of them, so this close to the One Ring the hum sets his teeth on edge. There is something to be said about exposure training, though.

The call of the damn thing was a damn sight more seductive when they'd first started dating.

30 years, huh. Maybe when he's 60 he can finally hold it for over a minute and then finally some quality research can be done.

"I can't believe, yeah, that of all th'elves 'nd dwarves 'nd humans 'nd hobbits and them that've found th'ring, you're th'one that figured out that th'damned thing's a dirty liar, 'nd none but th'one who made it shall wield it." Even Lavi, a scholar in a long, long line of scholars of the magics of Middle Earth, had had only the barest of ideas that maybe, yeah, maybe the Ring didn't have as much magic as was foretold.

Yuu just stares at him with a thousand yard stare perfected over, ah, 5000 years.

(Age gaps are par for the course in Elvish dating, and this Is Not helped by the dearth of dating apps catering to them, hangups in admitting to being over 3000 and therefore being 'really old', and a general deep-rooted dislike of technology stemming from WiFi and electricity being a bit crap in Elvish lands.)

On any other being, almost, when Yuu grunts and tilts his chin up in defiance and the Ring brushes against his cheek, it would burn them cold, an eternal mark.

Here, there's the gentlest attempt at a flush that fades as quickly as it comes.

"When the fuck have I ever wanted anything someone was trying to force on me?"

There's wisdom and great terrible power and angels and every other week someone swears up and down they really saw a Balrog in the woods behind their house, yes!!

But there's only one Yuu, the Ring Bearer, who wiped out armies when a bunch of hapless volcanologists found remnants of the One Ring in a dead Mount Doom and decided haha, it's impossible!

Unless...

No way!

But maybe....

People never learned to stop thirsting for power, and Yuu never learned to stop instinctively going the exact opposite way the rest of the world does.

What a miracle, this marvelous man! This elegant elf!

This idiot so singularly belligerent and hard-headed that the greatest evil the world's ever seen can't do shit to him.

Lavi, though....

Lavi grins. "Y'say that, darlin', but then, yeah, what's this?"

Reaching over, he grabs Yuu's left hand, and presses a kiss to the simple little gold band on his ring finger. "Sure looks like a thing that my good elf took up 'cos I was forceful in m'affections, yeah."

Unmoved (in the face), Yuu buries his hand in Lavi's hair (now peppered with gray, and he looks stupid handsome, not that he needs to know that) and drags him closer for a messy, deeply unbecoming kiss.

Pulling away, Yuu licks his lips. There's high colour on his cheeks, redder and ruddier than anything the Ring could have managed.

"What," he says most clearly, with a lilt that is a fuckin' adorable accent according to Lavi, "part of that was you forcing me?"

Absolutely starry-eyed and breathing hard, Lavi laughs dreamily. "Babe, deadass hand me th'ring right now, 'm not gonna be even a little bit tempted!"

For that, Lavi gets smacked 'round the back of the head.

Yuu's got the ring of Power, yeah, but the other ring's the real keeper.

a/n: i am adrift in meine life lmao here we go

#dgm fanfic #dgm #laviyuu #lavi #kanda yuu #fanfic #how tf do u insert readmores in mobile smfh #inktober2019 #i will see a prompt month thru if it kills me #whale writing

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avas-headcanons · 5 years

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OH you think I wouldn’t? You think I won’t do this??? Hunny U thought! KEEP READING FOR SOME FLAMING ARROW GOODNESS

Flaming Arrow (□Odin x Ava○)

Who is the most affectionate?

The two of them would be equally affectionate, but they show their affection in different ways. Odin would show his affection through gifts, maybe he’d draw Ava pictures, give her his shirts or hoodies or win her something at fare. Ava on the other hand would be more physically affectionate. She loves hugging Odin from behind. She has repeatedly climbed on surfaces to kiss him on the cheek. (she can only reach his neck on her tiptoes)

Big spoon/Little spoon?

Ava 100% is the little spoon. She loves being held in Odin’s arms. Odin likes cuddling her from behind cause of how incredibly warm she is.

Most common argument?

“S-Stop hogging the c-c-covers Ava!”

“I’M COLD!!!”

Favorite non-sexual activity?

Stargaze. Those two are so tired all the time. All they need for a good time is to curl up in a little bed of cushions on a starry night and they’ll watch the stars together. (In a normal AU Odin would drive them out to the country and they’d camp out in a field sipping flasks of hot chocolate)

Who is most likely to carry the other?

Odin. He can sling Ava over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. Sometimes he’ll just pick her up and walk out with her. Ava’s in his way? Picks her up and places her to the side. Ava loves it though. She’ll take full advantage of those ups once she realises that’s an option.

What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

For Odin it’s Ava’s hair. It’s just so thick and long. He’ll brush it or just run his fingers through it. Oh you need to de-tangle your hair Ava? Look no further, Odin is on it! (He also like when she glows bright when she’s embarrassed)

For Ava its Odin’s eyes. They’re just really pretty eyes? How in the world are his lashes so long? The way his hot pink pupil contrasts against the dark purple hue of those orbs? She could get lost in a pair of eyes like those.

What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

For Odin he starts to stutter a little more. More fumbling over words. He’d try to act cool and accidentally insult her or give a weird complement.

“n-nice horns. They’re very... horny?” - Odin probably.

He’d never meet her gaze if it could be helped, and when he does, that face of his goes bright pink.

For Ava, she just gets more visibly awkward. You know those people who when told to act natural act completely unnatural? That’s Ava with a crush. She’ll try leaning on a chair casually while talking nonsense - that chair was a swivel chair and moves as she leans. Both her and the chair come tumbling down. At the first sign of close proximity to Odin she’s glowing like a star.

Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

Odin gives Ava LOADS of nicknames. “Firefly” “my Star” But he’d also mix it up with some sweet names in his mother tongue (Michelle said he’s like Scandinavian once on formspring so maybe names like:)

“mitt allt” - my everything, “ Käraste“ - Dearest, “ Sötis “ - Sweetie, The list goes on

Ava wouldn’t have as many names for him. Probably just baby. But she’d probably ask his sisters for some cute names for him. She calls him “Gubben” (Old man) mistakenly thinking it means handsome. Odin still hasn’t corrected her.

Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Odin seems to be a picky eater so he’d definitely remember her food order. But Ava would also remember foods Odin loves or hates and would suggest restaurants she knows he’d be into.

Who tops?

Do boy/girl relationships have tops?

Who initiates kisses?

Ava! She has so much love to give, this girl will smooch that boy constantly all the time always! Odin would probably fit in a couple smooches here and there. A kiss on the cheek, forehead, nose, temple. Anywhere that isn’t her lips cause he’s just like that. If he’s gonna kiss Ava he’d probably ask first, even if they’ve been together for ages, he’ll still ask.

Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

Depends the scenario. Odin always offers his hand and Ava will always accepts. However if they’re in a crowded place, Ava will hug his arm instinctively.

Who kisses the hardest?

Probably Ava. She’s never kissed anyone before and now here she is with a whole boyfriend and a mouth full sharp teeth. She’d nicked him a few times with those fangs but he doesn’t mind. (Their first kiss, she held her breath. Odin couldn’t stop laughing once he realised.)

Who wakes up first?

Neither of them. They’ll sleep until someone else wakes them up.

Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Both of them. It’s so warm and safe under those covers. They may be cuddling.

Who says I love you first?

Ava. But she’ll be embarrassed, there’d be tears in her eyes. Her cheeks would be flushed like no other. Odin would definitely kiss her as soon as she said it. He’d probably fumble the words out too, but he probably not say I love you directly. Not until like their wedding day or something

“Um... me too! I.. I feel the same, I love.. being with you too.” - Odin probably

Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

Odin would do that. He’s not the best with words so he’d draw little things on the notes. Write cute messages. Something adorable and mushy.

Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

That mantle falls upon Odin. He doesn’t even tell his family. His brother sees him being too happy and is like “something’s not right” and he sends the twins out on a reconnaissance mission.They track Odin down feeding Ava a sundae. They take heaps of pictures and send them to everyone in their contacts.

Odin’s dms blow up later that day.

What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

After finding out Odin has a girlfriend Olai demands to meet her. Both Ava and Odin are crapping themselves sitting on the couch while Olai is on the coffee table, legs spread with a cigar in his mouth.

“Don’t bring no babies into this house.” - Odin and Ava flush immediately.

Olai is cool with Ava. She’s cute and nice, he likes how ready she is ready to fight for Odin’s honor. The twins like having Ava around. She’s a little naive which makes her easy to prank.

Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

Both of these children have two left feet. They will not dance unless drunk.

Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

Neither of them can truly cook. Odin is used to having his meals made. He’ll catch the game but cook it? nah. Ava’s no better. She lives off of snacks. Ice-cream is her idea of a good dinner.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

Odin probably. He has so many dumb names up his sleeve. They all make Ava groan.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Probably not inappropriate, but Odin will go out of his way to embarrass Ava. You thought those pervert glasses were the only thing? Nah, he’ll tease her about anything and everything. One time she purred when they made out, he won’t let that go.

Who needs more assurance?

The both of. They’re so insecure they need to know the other loves them every day or else they’ll stew on that for as long as they live.

What would be their theme song?

Welcome to Oblivion by Madina Lake

Who would sing to their child back to sleep?

I feel like Odin would. He has the most experience with kids having to grow up with his sisters. He’d have some nice old folk songs he’d sing.

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

They’re both terrible day dreamers. Odin would probably smoke his pipe thinking about Ava, and Ava would probably have one of his hoodies on (it still smells like him)

one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

Once Ava’s pact is completed - after those two have bonded and become close and are clearly in love - Ava leaves into her new life, leaving Odin alone and heartbroken.

one headcanon about this OTP that mends it

Ava changing the conditions of her pact so that they can stay together!

#avas demon #ava's demon #flaming arrow #odin and ava #avaodin #odin arrow #ava ire #avas demon headcanons #ava's demon headcanon #ad hc #avas demon hc

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moricatlibrary · 7 years

Text

Chance

Modern American AU in which Armin is a medical student and Eren is an art student and their paths finally cross by “chance”.

For my good friend @armini-man. Happy birthday, you’re wonderful, and I hope you have a wonderful day this year :3 ❤❤❤❤❤ I hope you like this.

Armin sulked around the campus trying to clear his head after a grueling chemistry class. He hated chemistry. He hated every class on his schedule, really. Being a doctor was actually the last career he’d ever wanted, but the rest of the world had this “little” habit of telling him where to go, and what to do, and what his talents should be used for… ‘Smart kids go to school to be a doctor for good pay. Dumb kids work at McDonald’s for the rest of their lives.’ That’s what they always told him… “But who of those kids is actually happy?…” Armin wondered to himself. He felt so empty…

Deciding that grey walls and black tables full of text books, pharmaceutical tools, and endless notes weren’t the world Armin wanted to end the day and start the weekend with, he decided to wander over to the arts building… Breezing through that front door already made a world of difference… It was like a breath of fresh air. The smell of paints and old wooden pianos filled the atmosphere and tickled his excited nose until he sneezed. He walked slowly through the lobby to the mixed sounds of violins and choir practices to reach the stairs. All over the walls were artworks done by students of the school as well as a few purchased pieces done by professionals. A massive quilt depicting a land scape covered the entire right wall. Stitched mountains and patchwork fields… and silky ocean waves… “Ah, the ‘outside world’…” He thought to himself. “The world they pretty much tell you to forget about…” Armin had a secret dream of traveling across the seas, rather than become a capitalist’s pawn in medical school… The image of the open and ever living blue waters that lead to lands unknown with colorful views one could never imagine unless they’d seen it themselves, were a million and one times better than the empty grey view of his program’s classrooms…

He reached the top of the stairs and observed all of the various visual art pieces hanging along the halls, to the sound of either clarinet music or oboe music from the classroom a few doors behind him now. A nude portrait by a Picasso wannabe, a cityscape in the style of Van Gogh, a mixed media page featuring an intricate landscape made entirely out of various pastas… “This is the understated beauty of mankind…” he thought. “These are the heroes of humanity no one praises. Where would we be without the expressive wisdom and vision of each other?”

He turned the corner and strolled down the next hall, now in silence aside from the faint muffled music of a practicing orchestra in the auditorium on the floor below, and the ‘chik chik chik’ of sculptures being hammered behind a closed classroom door. These walls were aligned with sketches on the left wall and photography on the right. Armin walked slow, going back and forth to look at the framed works on each side, one by one… before one framed piece halted him completely… It was a photo of his favorite thinking place back in Shiganshina during his childhood. A little meadow near the suburbs where he lived, with a humble tree that blossomed in the early spring… The tree had no blossoms in this photo and its leaves were reddening, indicating that it was fall when the picture was taken. The spring also brought about endless beds of periwinkle forget-me-nots to the field, a flower that always spoke to Armin. He’d spent a lot of lonely time under that tree tying the stems of those flowers into long garlands that he could pretend were leis from an island or something else more exotic than his boring reality… It was curious that this photo captured such an empty scenery and yet it had a rose colored filter over everything, indicating it was something the photographer held as dear and pure to them… “Did something personal happen to them here on that day? Maybe they climbed that tree as a child and that was their first victory? Maybe they buried a lost pet there? Or maybe they met someone special there… A childhood sweetheart? Is it about the tree itself as a metaphor for something? Maybe it’s about how even though something is empty and forgotten, it’s still living and breathing and full of history, or something…” His eyes got wider with each potential answer to the mystery his mind concocted. He felt like he was conversing with the photographer by himself, and just waiting for them to respond any second now, aching to hear their replies. It was starting to dizzy him in excitement for the possibilities! So he decided he wanted to speak to the photographer in person right away. He read the printed name on the corner of the photo: Eren Yeager…

Armin strolled down the halls before him, searching for a photography class through the classroom door windows to find a professor that could direct him to the photographer student in question… but after an hour of scouring that floor, and even the other 2 floors on the off chance it were there, he found he had no luck. “How tragic… I guess photography is a Tuesday/Thursday class…” he sighed. Mourning the loss of a chance he might’ve met someone interesting to talk to that day, Armin dragged himself back to that empty hallway on the second floor to stare at Eren Yeager’s photo again, imagining himself under that tree and perhaps seeing Eren Yeager come by perchance… What a difference that would’ve made in his life… What a difference…

“You’re staring at this photo?” A low voice suddenly said, hitting Armin’s ears like thunder since he was completely lost in thought, missing even the loud noise of the students clamoring out of the slideshow lecture just down the hall.

“AH!--” He jumped as he turned around to face a dark haired young man behind him. “You scared me… Hah. Yeah, I am.” He chuckled, trying to catch his breath.

“Why?” The stranger asked with a raised eyebrow and confused upper lip, like he had no idea why anyone would look at a woefully simple shot like this for more than a passing glance. Especially when photos of multicolored crystals and starry-reflected lakes were on either side of it…

Armin studied him for a quick second… He was tall, and dark… and handsome. His eyebrows looked a little furry, like they furrowed pretty often, and his dark hair looked like he might cut it himself at home and maybe forgot to this month, (which Armin sure could relate to). And those forresty eyes met his… striking him like lightning as they stared into his own, waiting for Armin to answer his question. Truthfully, this stranger looked a little scary to him. But he answered him honestly. “It’s a photo of a place I used to visit as a kid all the time. And it makes me so curious as to what the photographer sees in it that made them so keen as to snap this photo of it and “preserve” its meaning in a rose tint. Isn’t it intriguing? There’s no telling what this place means to them! Is it nostalgia for childhood? Is it a metaphor for aging? Is it a message about what we forget in our hustle into becoming adults or climbing the ladder? What could “Eren Yeager’s” story be, based on this? It’s a wonder to me!“ He smiled gesturing to the image in his praise. “Don’t you think?”

The stranger raised his eyebrow even further and blushed as a laugh forced its way through his lips. “Pff-- Hahaha! Wow. You got all that from this shitty photo? Incredible. What’s your name?”

“Armin… Arlert.” The blond replied softly, wanting to be offended on Eren Yeager’s behalf but found he couldn’t stop staring at this stranger’s charming smile… It captured him a million and one times more than that photo… His own cheeks were beginning to blush from looking at him and, unbeknownst to him, his eyes were sparkling more than the crystal or starry lake photos to the sides behind him…

The dark haired guy crossed his arms, still grinning and still lightly blushing. “Eren. I took the photo.”

Armin grinned back, bubbling with happiness now that he finally met the photographer. “Oh, I’ve been searching for you since I got here! I-I mean I was-- looking for the photography class to meet you and talk to you but I guessed it was only on Tuesdays and Thursdays…”

“It is. I was in Art History…” he explained, trying not to get lost in this lovely blond fellow’s deep, glimmering, oceanic eyes… “Say… you wanna go to the café by the student center?… Maybe we can talk about it for a while if you’re not busy…”

Armin’s cheeks were all aglow and his widening smile perked them up even higher...

Eren actually had another class and a ceramics studio hour he needed to attend before he was done for the weekend, but something about this blond stranger seemed much more important to the course of his life today…

They’d sat in the student coffee shop for hours talking about not only the photo, but everything else too… It turned out that they’d grown up in the same neighborhood. And while Armin visited that tree in the meadow in the mornings and daytime, Eren had been visiting there in the afternoons and evenings, wishing he had someone to make cloud watching more interesting for him, if possible… What a difference it would’ve made in his life. What a difference…

Neither of them were enjoying school, as it turned out. Eren’s parents insisted he attend, so he took the one major that didn’t seem unbearable or impossible for him after flunking out of the athletics department. Armin could certainly relate, especially with his ever straining grades fluctuating more and more lately as depression began to consume him. This had actually been the most either of them smiled since enrolling…

Armin had a way of thinking that Eren had never seen before. He was so wise, wiser than anyone he’d ever met, and was so understanding of human nature, and so full of inspiration and life… Maybe photography would’ve been a much more fulfilling major if he were taking pictures of this gorgeous guy sitting before him instead of nostalgic trees and his cheap Italian dinners. “Goddamn it…” He thought as he stared at Armin’s pretty little simper while he sat there so meekly before him, sipping ginseng tea and eating a blueberry muffin. “We’re sitting here like it were as simple a matter of bumping into each other next to my photo, but this is fate. This is… this is destiny and a gift from above if such a crazy fucking dream come true could ever happen to an average loser like me…”

They stayed there until the cafe closed and sent them home for the evening…

After exchanging phone numbers, another long meeting for at the coffee shop occurred almost immediately, followed eventually by a fun lunch meeting for pizza… and soon enough, a romantic dinner date in Eren’s dorm… which brought about their first kiss (with each other or ever), then regular study dates where they’d quiz each other (for sweets or body kisses), very intimate “sleepovers”, a thousand ‘I love you’s, promise rings, and everything else but directly asking one another “Will you marry me?…”

The next fall, Eren took Photography 2, much more enthusiastically than Photography 1. Unlike his last minute tree photo he turned in last year, which was the most inspiring image he could muster, this one was very inspired, through and through… and expressed his strongest feelings. It was a photo of a free looking Armin in a ruffled white shirt, with the top buttons undone, smiling at the viewer with dazzling eyes and shiny, wet lips, (courtesy of Eren’s…). Eren desaturated the background of the campus surrounding Armin to mere black and white, leaving only Armin and his gorgeous oceanic eyes in color. Its title: Eren Yeager’s Story.

#eremin #erearu #attack on titan #eren jaeger #armin arlert #shingeki no kyojin

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