#now that i have the happy au nothing stops me from indulging in this either

[totentnz]

still got kerry on the brain he just brings me comfort in a way johnny cannot

[text message]

k: my tv is broken can you fix it

v: ??? im not tech support

10 minutes later v shows up at kerrys place and fixes his tv for him, it wasnt really broken just some messed up settings

"next time just ask me to hang out. i almost didnt show" kerry puts the can of soda on the table infront of her - her favourite brand and flavour, he ordered a whole box of it. v smiles and cracks it open to nearly empty it in one swig.

[jojikawa]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙞𝙤: 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙙 𝙒𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 | 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙁𝙤𝙪𝙧

WICKED HEARTS

MASTER LIST

Author’s note: This is a POC FRIENDLY blog. I am a black girl and I want to write more fics that don’t leave the reader racially ambiguous. This is self-indulgent and I’m just sharing it with you. Jojo is far from realistic. So, I don’t need to be either. Please don’t leave hate! Thanks!

This is a DARK romance so there will be toxic relationship themes, NSFW themes, descriptions of violence, and gore. There will also be unintentional sexism and racism from the characters toward the reader. The reader is canonically black in this AU but it is written for people from all walks of life to enjoy.

dividers by delishlydelightfuldividers

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

An awkward silence filled the room. You were sitting at the vanity dresser from before, as still as a statue. You were unable to bring yourself to move. You pondered on your situation. Out of everyone in this world, why did you have to be the one in the eyes of Dio? Not in a million years you would have predicted such an outcome. Without even realizing it, you acknowledged your appearance in the mirror. Dio’s rose was still in your hair, which you removed. You lifted your upper lip, inspecting your new fangs. The fangs you penetrated Dio with. 

“What is your name?” You let go of your lip and spoke to the terrified girl in the corner of the room. She was supposed to be helping you into a wedding dress Dio had come across but she was too scared. You didn’t make her help you. Not that you needed any at all.

“A-Aya.” The little girl answered nervously. Her voice was still firm as she tried to hide how scared she was and failed spectacularly. “How did Dio get to you, Aya? Why were you not inside? Did he take you from your home?” You tried to manage your hair, moving as slowly as a snail. This situation was hitting you so hard. What was the future supposed to look like for you? You’re getting married to Dio and there was nothing you could do about it. A part of you felt like he would only be more destructive if you refused. He’s never raised a hand to you but he had no remorse for taking his frustrations out on innocents as a means to an end. 

“I-I was looking for my little brother, P-Poco. He’s always missing curfew and my father asked me to go find him.” She choked out, another cry was coming on. 

You sighed. “Well, Aya, it’s safe to assume that Poco is probably dead.” You bluntly stated, not thinking at all about what you were saying. It was harsh and inconsiderate. This only pushed her to cry. Once you realized what you had done, you stopped trying to fix your hair. You sighed again, getting up out of your chair.

Aya noted that your aura and demeanor didn’t feel as threatening as Dio’s. You looked beautiful in your dress. The fabric was a deep red that made your skin look amazing. The color was as if Dio harvested it from the blood of his enemies. Your hair wasn’t perfect but its messiness almost looked to be intentional. Your soft nature clashed with the razor-sharp teeth that only showed themselves when you talked. “I’m sorry.” You looked at her with half-lidded eyes. “Poco could’ve gotten away or hid. I’m just…bitter.” You informed her. “Now, can you help me get this corset on, please?” You asked politely, voice still laced in sorrow. Aya didn’t need to be a body language expert to see that you weren’t happy at all with your situation. She instantly knew this marriage was forced. 

The girl sheepishly nodded, gaining the courage to finally stand and help you. She assisted with your corsets and layers of fabric. You always imagined yourself being married—just…happier. After spending a long time with Dio when you were young, the only man you could imagine yourself marrying was him. You also imagined yourself wearing something purer like a bright white. Aya helped bring your hair up into a neat updo style, you tucked the clip of the red veil into your hair.

During this whole process, you didn’t speak. Not much or even loudly for that matter. Your replies and directions to the girl were always hushed and hurried. Your body was adjusting to your vampire transformation. Some lights were too bright. Even the light of the moon. Your ears were noticeably more sensitive and you found your eyebrows always being subtly knitted together as your mood became permanently annoyed. The same way one would get when they feel a headache coming on. 

Aya had only just finished helping you before the silence broke. Dio entered the room, his outfit not at all different from before. Perhaps, he felt as if he didn’t need to dress for such an occasion. 

“My goodness. You look so much more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.” Dio made his way towards you, pushing Aya to the side as if she were a peasant getting to close to his trophy. You stayed silent, not at all greeting your soon-to-be husband. He grabbed your face, tilting your head upward so that his lips were only inches away from yours. You held onto his arms as he held you like glass. The man wanted nothing more than to kiss you right here. Oh yes, the idea of kissing the woman he’s been deeply in love with since he were a boy. He knew that women would claw each other’s eyes out to be with someone like him but he wanted you. He thought himself an honorable man for being so loyal during a time he didn’t have to be. 

You averted your eyes, too saddened and nervous I receive his “loving” stare. “I-“ You opened your mouth to speak when he quickly presses his lips to yours. Even with your new vampire strength, Dio still proved to be stronger than you, holding you close and not at all allowing you to resist his love. Almost abruptly, he let you go before licking his lips. “Much more savory than I remember.” Is what he would’ve said if he hadn’t seen the sullen look on your face. It gave him flashbacks to the day the two of you “broke up.” 

Why did you look happy? You’re getting married to him—you should be happy. Overjoyed even. 

“What is wrong with you?” He narrowed his eyes at you. “Don’t you love me?!” He blurted out, startling Aya who was already making herself small in the corner. 

“I do love you do. Or, at least I did.” You whispered sadly. “I barely even know what’s happened to me but I already know it’s permanent.” You removed your hands from his arms, having them retreat back into your body as you hug yourself. “You betray your own father and turned yourself into a monster. You stole my future away from me by turning me into a monster too. Now I’m stuck with you.” Your face began to burn with distress. The air you exhaled was hot like fire as you fought back tears. 

Dio took offense to your words, seeing it more as a plain insult rather than an expression of what he was doing to your psyche.

“Stuck with me!?” He repeated, putting so much emphasis on “stuck” like he was disgusted with your choice of words. “I’ll have you know that any girl born to slave parents would be honored to-“ 

slap!

Dio held his cheek in awe. If one didn’t know any better, they would’ve thought Dio had been stabbed in the heart just now. Never in a million years would he have thought you’d raise a hand to him. You were always so kind, so gentle and so, so very patient with all the vile things he would conjure up in his mind. 

“Don’t talk about my parents.” Your voice cut him like swords and your eyes burned holes into his body, stronger than any amount of Hamon ever could. All Dio could do was stare at you, his eyes were now doe-like, reminiscing at how you used to be and what you could’ve been if it weren’t for him. “If it weren’t for my father, you wouldn’t even know me.”

Dio only knew a little bit about your father. You rarely spoke of him, but he remembered the story you told him all that time ago. Your parents were slaves. Your father wanted a better life for his pregnant wife and worked himself to death, buying her freedom. Even then, it still wasn’t enough. The Pendletons took you off the streets.

“You will NOT do that again.” Dio declared. It was hard for him to be angry because he was beginning to realize that he liked it when you would raise your voice at him. “You are lucky that I am above hitting women.” He hissed before turning on his heel and leaving the room. When his presence was gone, you sighed. It felt like you had been holding your breath forever. You didn’t know what came over you. You didn’t want to be like him and react with violence. You also forgot that Aya was still in the room. “Aya, after the wedding, I will get you out of here.” You suddenly said. “Now, come.” You directed her to take the long end of your dress and hold it as you walk. The girl obeyed. 

As you exited the room, waiting for you was a disfigured creature. It meekly held a bouquet of flowers. You took it from…it before continuing on your way to find Dio. He disappeared rather quickly. “Wh-Where is your master?” You questioned it, trying not to show the fear you harbored for its appearance. 

“Lord Dio waits for you.”

Its voice made you sick to your stomach, reminding you that you were speaking to something that was no longer human and craved flesh specifically. “Take me to him.” You replied lowly, trying to match Dio’s energy and commanding them the way he would. You turned to Aya before saying “Stay in the room. I will come and get you as soon as I can.” You promised her with pleading eyes. The girl shuddered and grimaced at your request. The girl reluctantly nodded. She didn’t like the idea but she had to trust you. 

The creature did as you asked. As you followed, you thought of all the possible ways you could get Aya away. You didn’t want a child slave. No child should be a slave at all, let alone a slave for you. You knew what it was like. Going along with Dio’s marriage was your only hope of bringing some clarity to this situation. Perhaps, as his wife, you could talk some sense into him? Let the girl go, you’d tell him. Get rid of these monsters, you would say. 

But it was all just your way of coping. There was no way to get ahold of Dio. 

As you entered the room, your heart felt like it was frozen as you held your breath. Your mind was still back in that dark room, combing your pretty hair with your pretty white dress. 

Or was it red?

“I always knew red would make a better color on you.” 

His sly voice reached your ears, pulling you back to reality. Within a second, Dio was only inches away from you. His hands inspected your curves. The tips of his claws brushed the thin thread that held your corset together. They traced up to your bust where, again, your chest was practically bursting in the small corset that you were given. “This looks tight.” Dio growled at you with a grin. “I must loosen it for you.” His claw tugged at the ribbon that held your top together with your bottom. You narrowed your eyes. “Dio.” You placed a hand on your chest, preventing him from going any further. “Let’s just have the wedding.” You said quickly.

The room wasn’t elegant enough for a wedding and nor was the castle. The fire burned bright in the corners of the room but it was nothing compared to the moonlight that illuminated your features in the night.

“Eager to be my bride? You never cease to amaze me.” Dio took your hand in his. He imagined himself as the ultimate prince—no, God, finally claiming what would be his forever. “I’ve given you a gift no man ever could. Your beauty will forever be eternalized. What we had as children can transcend the bonds of time…”

You listened to Dio ramble about his “love” for you. It was hard to believe this was even real. You kept hoping that you’d wake up and then scold yourself for sleeping for so long. Then you would ponder on why you’d have such a vivid dream. 

“But I have one more question. You must answer honestly if you intend on being my wife and carrying my seed.” Dio brought his index finger and thumb to your chin. He made you look up at him, baring his fangs at you. “What is it, Dio?” Your eyes began half-lidded. Your mind almost left the conversation again before he spoke.

“Were you in love with Jonathan at all?” 

Your eyes narrowed. “Wha-“

Dio’s voice deepened. “Did you ever love him?” You looked into his eyes. He was serious. Was he…jealous?

“No, I was never in love with Jonathan. Nor was he with me.” You answered, honestly. “He was always in love with Erina.” You added. Dio let go of you. He remembered the time Jonathan let it slip that you had taken care of him after his fight with him. He saw you come to his football game, cheering for Jonathan of all people. Hanging off of his arm as if you belonged to someone else. 

“As you say.” Dio took a step away from you. “Bring me our rings,” Dio commanded the fused monsters around him. A disfigured zombie with no jaw and rotting skin brought Dio the two small pieces of jewelry. “Who did you steal these from?” You asked innocently. Your goal wasn’t to offend him but it was Dio. He was always offended. “I didn’t steal them. I had them made. What do you take me for?” Dio slipped the ring onto his finger. You purse your lips, preventing yourself from retaliating any further. Talking to him was…so hard now. It wasn’t the same. It could never be. 

Dio hesitantly reached for your dainty hand. He rehearsed this moment in his head for such a long time, even before the mask. He wanted nothing more than to finally have. Words couldn’t describe the euphoric feeling that ran through him. The anxiety that once would get when first confessing their love. It was something that was so foreign to him, yet so pleasant. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand only for a moment before he gently placed the diamond ring on your finger. It sparked in the moonlight and could even glow in the shade. Though his wedding band was dull, Dio did not care. As long as it was clear you were taken.

Your absentmindedness came to a halt when Dio saw that you were closing the distance between the two of you. You avoided eye content, keeping your gaze downward as you motioned him to bend down. His height on you would always cause an issue for you. When he complied, you meekly pressed your lips against his for a chasté kiss. The thoughtful act only lasted a moment before you pulled away, but Dio wanted more. All he wanted was more of your love. His arms trapped you, bringing you into another kiss. It was like your lips were candy, but these could’ve been his imagination. Your lips were better than any candy he’s ever had. 

Suddenly, the only door in the room was forced open. Dio gasped—jumped at the sound. He let go of you, bringing his full attention to the intruder. It was…

“Jonathan?” You called out softly, utter shock filling your body. Dio blocked your vision with his huge body. “I’m back from my time in hell, Dio.” Jonathan invited himself inside. It wasn’t until then he noticed you. “(y/n)?! You’re alive!” Then the man furrowed his eyebrows. “Damn you, Dio!” He cried. “Let that fair maiden go! I thought she was dead because of you! All of London thinks she’s dead!”

“Still as loud as always, Jonathan.” Dio forced his cool demeanor to now show weakness. “You dare not speak to her, as I am her God now. The world is better off not looking for her.” He grinned at JoJo. “I see that you are also alive now, that’s curious, isn’t it?” Dio stepped towards JoJo. A batch of creatures dropped from the ceiling, surrounding you so that Jonathan has no quick way of getting to you. “But I suppose that indicates that you’ve defeated my two knights.”

“Dio!” Jonathan growled, preparing himself to finally fight this cursed man. “No! Jonathan! Don’t come any closer!” You warned. “These creatures are undead! Dio is a monster!” You tried to push your way past the hellspawn but they seemed to have orders from Dio to keep you from leaving. 

“Don’t worry, (y/n). Jonathan is mine and mine alone. I’ll kill JoJo and you’ll finally see him for how pathetic he really is.” Dio’s smirk faded. “But I will take no pleasure in doing so, as we were raised under the same roof. But before I do, I must ask you one question.”

For a moment, Jonathan looked perplexed. He was not the smartest JoJo, but even with critical thinking, he couldn’t think of any reason why Dio would want to ask him something at a time like this. 

“No, Dio-“

“At any point, did you ever have feelings for someone other than airheaded Erina? (y/n), perhaps?” Dio cupped his hand around his ear, pointing it towards Jonathan as he waited for his answer. This only made JoJo much more angry!

“The only woman I’ve ever loved is Erina!” He shouted, clenching fists as Hamon sparked out. Jonathan wasn’t completely oblivious; he knew Dio was always jealous of his friendship with you. 

“Do you know what I think JoJo? I think you’ve lied for the last time.” Dio crossed his arms. “When I look into the eyes of my beloved, I see the truth. When I look into yours, I see a boy who’s torn…” 

Behind Jonathan emerge more people. People you didn’t recognize. These were the others that JoJo was traveling with. They were a rather strange lot of characters, but anyone other than Dio was a blessing. You just were unable to understand how any human could get out of this situation alive. 

Much to your horror, the humans fought Dio. The first man, Dire, died attempting to deal the first blow to the vampire man. Dio displayed powers you had never seen before. He could freeze his victims with just a touch. Even though his clothes, if he touched you then he could free you. Dire was just a head now. He used the last of his hamon to fill a rose with it before spitting it at Dio. That was when you realized something. Something important. All this time, you’ve been shying away from Dio. As children, he was bigger than you; stronger as well. When the two of you grew up, he got even bigger while you remained small and needed to be protected. Men always preferred women to be this way. They were easier to control. 

But now, things are different. You possessed the strength of a dozen men. All the things Dio could do, you were able to do as well. If your husband couldn’t listen to reason and thought of himself as God, then you needed to be his adversary. It was the only option left for the sake of your loved ones. How could you face your best friend and the family that helped raise you if they knew you didn’t stop Dio from killing her lover? Hell, you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself. 

Dio was distracted now, going on about how the rose Dire launched injured his eye. In a swift motion, you used all of your strength to strike the monsters holding you back. You cleaved all of their heads off at once and they fell to the ground with an audible thud. You helped the humans as Jonathan fought Dio. 

It was like a blur. Jonathan didn’t allow you to help defeat Dio. He didn’t believe that such a fair maid had to see such a thing, to begin with. The man defeated his vampire adversary. JoJo removed his head with his sword, causing Dio to cry out. 

As Dio fell from the balcony, his body began to crumble from being filled with hamon. You ran over to the edge, not at all believing what you were seeing. Yet, it was true.

Dio even called out to you. The sound of his dying words gave you goosebumps. You couldn’t help but tear up. Why did things have to be this way? Could this have been prevented if you just stayed with Dio? Was this blood now on your hands?

“(y/n)…” Jonathan called breathlessly. He was tired from the battle. He fought someone who was no longer human by the way. “Jonathan!” You ran over to him. He looked like he was about to collapse. The young man examined your face and the pain that washed over him was indescribable. His eyes watered up before tears effortlessly streamed down his face. “(y/n)…” his voice was uneven and he dropped to his knees. “I couldn’t protect you from Dio! I’m sorry!” He cried. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. “Oh, Jonathan.” You kneeled down to hug him. “There was no way you could’ve known.” 

Behind JoJo, you saw the human men approach the two of you. They seemed to have similar powers that allowed them to take out the zombies easily. Their eyes burned with a fiery passion that was stronger than any hamon. “It’s best that we put an end to all that’s left of the mask.” The young man with long black hair said. JoJo struggled on his own but he gained the strength to shield you from them. “No! You can’t kill! She’s my friend!” He shouted, holding you close to his big chest. “J-Jonathan! It’s okay. You don’t have to protect me.” You squeeze your eyes shut.

A different man stepped forward, this one wearing a funny top hat with a scar on his face. “But it’s just a lady! She can’t be as evil as Dio, can she?” His voice was shaky as he had witnessed Dio’s carnage firsthand. The last thing he wanted to believe was that there would be another version of Dio. The revenge of a widow? No thank you!

“She is Dio’s bride. There’s no use in keeping loose ends.” The older man took a step closer. 

“I swear, I’m not like Dio. I didn’t ask him to use the mask on me!” You shouted. “I’ve known her since I was a boy. I take full responsibility! Just don’t-“ before the young man could finish, he passed out. Your eyes widened. You felt his breathing slow. He passed out!

The man with the top hat ran over to pull Jonathan off of you. “He’s worn out. JoJo’s been in more fatal fights tonight than a man should have in his lifetime!” The man said. “The name’s Robert E.O. Speedwagon, but you can shave off the first part and just call me Speedwagon.” He held out his hand for you to take it. You hesitated but you had no choice. “Er…Speedwagon.” You repeated to get used to the name. You stayed close to him since you were still afraid of the foreign hamon users. You felt like introducing yourself would put them at ease. They weren’t gonna kill you, right?

“My name (y/n) (l/n). Dio kidnapped me just after the Joestar mansion fell.” You began to explain. Already, it didn’t seem like they care all. All except for Speedwagon. He perked up at the sound of your name. “JoJo’s told me a lot about you! All of London thought you were dead, but Jonathan here knew that Dio got you once we knew the bastard lived through that fire!”

“Fire?” You repeated. “Were you there? Can you please tell me what happened that night?” You tugged at the man’s arm. Was it inappropriate for him to admit that he found you extremely attractive? 

Yes.

“Y-Yes, I was there. I met Jonathan that night as well. Dio was supposed to be arrested for the poisoning of George Joestar but then he used the mask and killed everyone except me and Jonathan. We had no choice but to set the house on fire.” Speedwagon noticed that with every word, the pain on your face became more apparent. “S-So, it’s true?” Your voice pitched up with sorrow as you accepted that Dio was a monster before he used the mask on himself. 

Due to Jonathan’s pleas and Speedwagon’s charisma, the Hamon masters spared you. Despite that being good news, the overwhelming hold in your heart would never easily recover from such a terrible circumstance. You’ve witnessed more death than any human should and even got to see the hybrid creatures that used to be people as well. You returned to Erina but only for a little while. The girl greeted you with open arms, balling her eyes out at the sight of you being unharmed. 

Then she saw your attire. You now adorned all black, wearing a black dress that covered your skin, leaving everything to the imagination. You had also been wearing an oversized Victorian bonnet that cast a shadow over your face, leaving only your eyes to be seen. They were different too, glowing bright red and festering with hunger. Somehow, the news of your transformation hit harder than the news of your supposed death. Now you could never rest as a creature of the night. 

You stuck around for the wedding of Jonathan and Erina. You were the best maid along with Speedwagon was the best man. You could sense him making his advances toward you but you’d always snuff out any ideas he may have gotten about you. It was quite humorous, actually. 

The couple planned to sail to the United States. You supported her decision and waved them goodbye as their ship set off. It took some thinking, but you came to the conclusion that you wanted to be a singer. There was no realistic way you could return to your previous occupation as the owner of Sweet Magnolia. The last thing you wanted was to resume things after that experience. 

Plus, it would be extremely hard to explain your reappearance after being declared dead. Your new life was overwhelming at first but perhaps it could be the beginning of something exciting. You could do…anything you wanted.

Anything. 

Your mother used to tell you that you’d have a good singing voice. It was the only way you could occupy yourself while doing chores back at the Pendleton mansion. Now it was time to test such a thing. What level of fame could one woman achieve with all the time in the world to practice and perform? Your career started slow. Not many people wanted to hear a woman they had never heard of before, but within a few years, you were able to perform at small gatherings for the first time. Networking proved to be a challenge but you began using your looks and wits as a way of convincing others. There was no longer an underlying fear of being attacked or harassed because of your new power. You felt like a queen who was taking in the world. Although, you knew better than to abuse your powers. You were still a good woman at heart. 

The horrors that caused the death of Jonathan Joestar didn’t reach you until it had long passed. Speedwagon found successful after also traveling to the United States. He became a wealthy man with his share of oil. He had men from his new organization send you an old letter from Erina along with the news that Jonathan has died.

“Dear (y/n),

This is Erina. I don’t know when I will be able to get this to you but when you receive it, please come to New York right away. The day Jonathan and I left for the Americas, the ship was attacked. Dio came back and was able to turn members of the crew into hideous monsters. Jonathan died protecting me. Now, I’m alone.

I’ve now seen the horrible things Dio has forced you to witness. I can’t be alone. I know that all you want to do now is leave your old life behind, but I need you.

-Erina.”

Tag list: @z3r0art ❤️

Hi guys! Like all my other stuff, this is not proofread very well. This is all for fun so I’m sorry if my writing style sucks lol

I’m also sorry for this part coming out much later than the other parts. I’ve been doing a lot of irl things to further my education in writing. I wanna write for video games and I honestly would love to be apart of the Riot Games team. I qualify to be a narrative writer for Legends of Runterra but I must live in Los Angeles…I don’t live there XD so yea. But I’m gonna keep improving. But yea that’s why I’ve been busy. I’ve been writing a lot of stuff that’s not for tumblr haha.

Up next will be the retelling of Stardust Crusaders. It’s supposed to be more sexually explicit than Phantom Blood bc I imagine Dio’s perspective of being a gentleman changes. Before I begin releasing that part, I’ll make an interlude telling the story of the female MC before Dio inevitably comes back with Jonathan’s body ❤️

See you guys soon! Thank you so much for all of your support! 💕

[go-to-the-mirror]

I know I said I wasn't going to post another TMA fic, but I've been getting into it a bit more, so here goes. It's a vampire AU! It's not complete, but I have been working on it on and off. I never thought i'd actually finish it enough to post, but here's a first bit :3

---

Jon hates job interviews, especially ones he’s not qualified for. But he wasn’t qualified for research, either, with a degree in literature, so it can’t hurt to try. Besides, if he doesn’t get the job, he might get the assistant archivist position, learn a few things. All in all, it’s going to be good for him.

His anxiety is not convinced.

“Mr. Sims?” calls Mr. Bouchard, leaning out of his office. Jon stands up and takes a deep breath. The worst he can do is say no.

Mr. Bouchard ushers Jon into his office, closing the door behind him, and taking a seat in his chair. Jon sits in the other, and tries his best not to look as anxious as he feels.

“So, tell me, why do you think you are the right fit for this job?”

Jon recites his rehearsed speech about how he’s committed to the preservation of documents, deemed both important and not, about the skills he learned in research, his own interest in anthropological research into the supernatural and his disappointment in the state of the archives disorganisation. It’s convincing, he’ll say so himself, and as he talks, he thinks he can see Elias warm up to him.

Hello, Jon. Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself. I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen.

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, the Archivist.

Statement begins.

I hope you’ll forgive me the self-indulgence, but I have worked so very hard for this moment, a culmination of two centuries of work. It’s rare that you get the chance to monologue through another, and you can’t tell me you’re not curious.

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but – my god. The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear.

It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, John, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction in that choice.

I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die.

I believe there are far more people in this world that would take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them.

Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When Smirke first gathered our little band – Lukas, Scott, and the rest – to discuss and hypothesize on the nature of the things he had learned from Rayner, I felt what I believe we all felt: curiosity, and fear.

But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. Smirke was so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of our patrons.

I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world.

At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment soon became a race.

Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror?

I convinced Smirke to work on Millbank, leading him to design it as a temple to all the Fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the Panopticon went… unremarked.

It. Took. Years, for the dread of the prisoners to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man before I made my first attempt at the Watcher’s Crown, sat in the center of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet.

It was… flawed, of course, as all Smirke’s rituals were, and none of the inmates survived as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was built consumed it.

But it left me a gift: For sat in that watchtower, I could see everything I turned my mind to.

It was a dizzying power, and one I discovered I maintained even as I found vessels to extend my life. Of course, I had to make sure the location was kept under my control while I worked on revising my plans, and so I moved the organization I had founded to assist in my research down to London, and the Institute as you know it was born.

I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own.

Surely my interpretation of the Watcher’s Crown had been incomplete; there had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked.

It was not until I met Gertrude Robinson that things began to really come into focus.

You see, the role of Archivist has been part of the Beholding for as far back as my research can go. This isn’t uncommon for the Powers; most of the beliefs around them are guesswork and fallible human interpretation, but there are certain throughlines and consistencies that can be spotted, regardless of the trappings.

But Gertrude was unlike any other Archivist. She simply did not care about compiling experiences or collecting the fears of others. She was driven to stop those who served the Powers.

More than once I thought she must secretly be of the Hunt – but there was never that sick joy in her, that thrill of predator and prey. She had simply decided that this was her position in life, and went about it with a practicality that even I found disconcerting at times.

I once asked her what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me the Desolation had killed her cat.

I don’t know if she was joking, and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure.

In any case, Gertrude’s ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost a hundred and fifty years: In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded?

Perhaps there were a long line of Gertrude Robinsons throughout history, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be, then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed?

She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with the People’s Church.

When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realized she was putting into practice a theory, and one she couldn’t afford to be wrong. She was going to wait, and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain as mine had all those years ago.

Knowing Gertrude, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated – but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realized what had to be done.

You see, the thing about the Fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the fear of hunted prey? When does the mask of the Stranger become the deception of the Spiral?

Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as up relies on down.

To try and create a world with only the Buried makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only down.

Every ritual tied itself so closely to a single power as to render itself impossible. They could bring their patron close, but never sever it from the others, and eventually it would be violently pulled back into the place next to reality where they dwell.

The solution, then, is simple: A new ritual must be devised which will bring through all the Powers at once. All fourteen, as I had hoped I could complete it before any new powers such as Extinction were able to fully emerge. All under the Eye’s auspices, of course. We mustn’t forget our roots.

And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: The Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to Gertrude’s ill-timed retirement plans.

Because the thing about the Archivist is that – well, it’s a bit of a misnomer.

It might, perhaps, be better named: The Archive.

Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, John. You are a record of fear, both in mind as you walk the shuddering record of each statement, and in body as the Powers each leave their mark upon you.

You are a living chronicle of terror.

Perhaps, then, if I could find an Archivist and have each Power mark them, have them confront each one and each in turn instill in them a powerful and acute fear for their life, they could be turned into a conduit for the coming of this – nightmare kingdom.

Do you see where I’m going, John?

It does tickle me, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck.

I’ll admit, my options were somewhat limited, but My God, when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as some sort of implicit blessing on the whole project, and, do you know what, I think it was.

Of course, I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push, learn how you worked – So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the Archives were not uncommon during Gertrude’s tenure, and, while she was always prepared, I made sure you would not be.

I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all fourteen. So, when Jane Prentiss attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start.

You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how far you would get, though I waited until the worms were in you before I pulled the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.

The discovery that one of the Stranger’s minions had infiltrated the Institute in the aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus. Even if that sliver of paranoia, that vague wrongness you couldn’t quite place wouldn’t count as a mark, it was only a matter of time before it confronted you in a far more direct and affecting matter.

Admittedly, given the advent of the Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered. But what’s the old saying about hindsight?

More important to me was Sasha’s encounter with the Distortion. If it had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path.

So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement.

Poor Helen. I actually had to put her in a taxi myself, she was getting so lost in those narrow London side streets.

It worked, though.

Between the stabbing and at least two desperate flights into its doors – you’re marked very deeply by the Spiral.

Jurgen Leitner was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to improvise. I had no idea how much Gertrude would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast.

I… justified it to myself saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway, if you were to encounter more of the Powers, but I can’t honestly pretend it wasn’t a… rather rash move.

Still. I’d requested Detective Tonner be assigned to the case when they found Gertrude’s body in the hope that having a Hunter in the mix would eventually lead to a confrontation, and setting you up as a killer certainly hastened that.

Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a few Avatars I thought were likely to harm you – but probably would stop short of actually killing you.

Jude served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr. Crew, marking you for the Desolation and the Vast.

Honestly, I had – nothing to do with Melanie and her Slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation, I made sure to trap her here, so when her rage bubbled over you would be right there, a ready target.

I didn’t foresee the mark coming from surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

The Unknowing was a distraction, but not an unwelcome one. For this to work, you needed more than just the marks; you needed power. And that was something the Unknowing served to test, though it posed no actual danger in the grand scheme of things.

And it did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront death, a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you’d just die. Too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why.

As it was, it was just right, and once again, you came through with flying colours.

By this point, your abilities were coming along in leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face-to-face might end up with you Knowing something you shouldn't.

I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was simple enough to cut a deal.

All that remained, then, were the Dark, the Flesh, the Buried, and the Lonely.

I was a little put out when that idiot Jared Hopworth misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then – Ho, you should have see my face when you voluntarily went to him.

I couldn’t see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I’m very sure it counts as a mark.

I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, uh… restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase, and waiting.

Honestly, Detective Tonner has been proving invaluable through this process. I’d been racking my brains for months about what I could use to lure you in.

And, of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting. So when it came time, I just whipped up another apocalypse and sent you on your merry way.

Then all that remained was the Lonely.

Poor Peter. He really should have left well enough alone. Or just done what I’d asked in the first place.

Ah well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him a little wager about Martin.

Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.

How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that.

And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only impatience.

You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here.

Don’t worry, John. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made.

Now, repeat after me.

You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right.

Come to us in your wholeness.

Come to us in your perfection.

Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies!

Come to us.

I – OPEN – THE DOOR!

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Valentine's Day Ori - Column 1 - Sweet Bingo

Happy Vday to y'all!

In a very self-indulgent gesture, I shall post Ori for today :D

A random AU generator gave me "We take the same bus", and I've decided to do "Romantic Dinner, Secret Admirer, Candles, Flowers, Sunset" for this one!

Enjoy!

Words: 1 150

Characters: Ori x OC

Warnings: Only fluff

Ori stared at the old clock, hanging somewhat crookedly on the dusty kitchen wall, willing it to magically switch to half past 5.

Maybe, she would not come, he told himself for the umpteenth time, desperate to keep his spiralling expectations in check. Why would she? She barely knew him after all.

Stepping back out onto the small balcony after having strode in only mere moments ago, he let his eyes sweep frantically over the small feast of tapas and other snacks he had prepared with painstaking diligence all afternoon.

Stubbornly, he kept himself from falling to his death by leaning too far over the railing in hopes of catching a glimpse of the young woman with whom he had, thus far, nothing in common besides a short bus ride on their daily commute to work.

In a further effort to distract himself, Ori tried to cast his mind back to the first time he had consciously become aware of Amal. It had been a rainy day, and she’d been soaking wet as she’d sped towards the long vehicle that had been about to throw itself back into the agonisingly slow morning traffic.

“Can I sit here?” she had panted, pointing her dripping finger at the free seat next to the mousy accountant who was never late or forgot his umbrella.

Despite the nasty looks the other passengers had given her, Ori had agreed.

Overwhelmed by her alluringly dark eyes and her generous smile, he’d even lent her his old, worn umbrella—and that was how their story had started.

From that fateful morning onward, they’d dutifully saved a seat for one another whenever possible, exchanging mundane observations about their co-travellers or sharing the odd complaint about work or the weather.

Of course, Ori would normally never have presumed to read more into their daily interactions than a casual friendship of convenience.

Nevertheless, when she had brought up that she’d spend Valentine’s Day alone, he had smiled sheepishly and promptly spent the following night tossing and turning as his mind kept replaying the playful, expectant expression he had believed to have discerned.

Paralysed by impossible hope and driven half-mad by fatigue, Ori—who usually was known to be the most prudent and reticent of men—had slipped a note into the side-pocket of her bag on the following morning.

A part of him had hoped that she’d never find the embarrassing invitation.

The other had been trying to give him a premature heart attack by never letting his pulse slow down.

The next day, he’d found an empty gum wrapper in his coat pocket. On the inside, penned in a feminine, sloping handwriting, one single word—“Deal”.

Time had slowed to a crawl since—Ori was, as his friends and kinsmen never stopped pointing out, painfully shy, and he had not dared bring up the subject to Amal’s face afterwards.

Instead, he’d tried his hardest to banish every thought of that looming event from his tortured, overactive mind to focus on his work—he’d unfortunately had only middling success in that endeavour, obsessing about Amal’s teasing remarks and warm smiles whenever his mind started to wander.

And now, the moment had come, and she’d either show up or not.

Dutiful and more romantically inclined than he willingly admitted, Ori had dragged the space heater onto his narrow, cramped balcony so they could watch the early sunset together.

In spite of his secret hopes and dreams, he was painfully aware of the potential danger the gorgeous stranger would put herself in by coming to his flat, so he had made sure to choose a reasonable time—Amal could come straight from work and, if, for any reason, she felt uncomfortable or bored, she could leave before the public transit became irregular and unsafe.

One last time Ori checked the flowers—snowdrops and daphnes rather than roses—and the slender, white candles that were his only concessions to his impossible yet irrepressible yearning for this to be more than just an amicable afterwork get-together.

“Oi, I have been ringing your doorbell, you nut!” a strong, melodious voice floated up from the street, and Ori all but swept the fruits of his careful labour off the rickety table as he whirled around, only to find Amal standing in his neighbour’s flowers, her beautiful hands cupped around her inviting mouth to holler at him.

“I’ve left my ugly winter coat at the office,” she added, “so I’d be thankful if you could open the door!”

Without answering—a grievous, shameful omission—Ori dashed through the open glass door, nearly slipping in his haste, and threw himself onto the buzzer.

“Calm yourself, man,” he mumbled under his breath and had almost regained control over his racing heart when Amal appeared at the top of the stairs, flushed with cold and exertion, and wheezing out a joyous chuckle.

“Happy V-Day,” she chirped and rummaged in her huge black bag to fish out a heart-shaped box of chocolates, looking a little worse for wear, and an origami rose. “Made that one myself during my meeting,” she explained and, when Ori merely stared at her in bewilderment and anticipation, she stepped closer to press a light kiss onto his flushed cheek.

“Erm…yes, come in,” Ori stammered and flapped his hand helplessly. “I’ve set the table outside, but if you’re cold—”

“I’ll take this, thank you,” Amal laughed and grabbed a sweatshirt—bearing the name of his Alma Mater, printed in fat, garish letters all over the worn fabric—he had forgotten to clean away. “So, how was your day? Shame that we never take the same bus to go home…”

“I—yes…It would be creepy to ask you when you leave work, wouldn’t it?”

Amal cocked her head. “Well, yes and no. It would be disappointing if you didn’t follow that question up with an invitation to grab a drink somewhere. We don’t live that far apart, after all, so neither one of us would have to trudge around in the early hours on a weekday…”

“Would you like it if I asked that kind of question?” Ori said in a toneless, tense voice, remembering that he had—in a temporary fit of madness—invited her to his home.

“I would,” she laughed. “I’d think of you as my secret admirer, my bewitching bus beau…” Throwing back her head with that vivacity that never failed to entrance Ori, she laughed heartily. “I am a bit fanciful, forgive me!”

“Not at all,” he squeaked. “I’d love to go for drinks one of these days, and—after today—I guess I am not that secret an admirer anymore, am I?”

“Oh, you’re adorable!” Amal giggled. “All of these things are questions for another bus ride. How about we open that lovely bottle of champagne, sitting there in your empty paint bucket, and watch the sun go down to start?”

@fellowshipofthefics here's the first one for this month!

Welcome aboard for a new adventure! I love to have you!

Lots of love and well-wishes!

-> Masterlist

[callsignbaphomet]

So we're continuing the Fallout au info dumping...I decided to break them up into parts as this got ridiculously long. So this is part 2. Guess I can post one part per day.

Part 1 Part 3

Also I wanna add that at any moment I may go back and edit certain details. Y'all know me, nothing is ever set in stone EXCEPT for certain details. And from now on THIS is the current official info. Everything prior to this current info dump is null and void.

From here on out these will be full of all sorts of TWs jsyk. Read at your own risk. If you want me to tag 'em just lmk. I may also be releasing inner demons here.

Trek out of NV:

So the boys joined the caravan of families who were being escorted by a group of 8 hired guns. At first everything was fine, two weeks into the trek Loke found out that they were heading towards Boston to pick up some other family members and the caravan was gonna continue to Canada which he thought was too far but he didn't really wanna stay in Boston either so once they reached Boston he and Jelani would stop to gather their bearings.

So as for the mercs escorting the caravan. They would drink a lot and do a lot of chems practically in front of everyone and would get rowdy, getting into fist fights with each other and getting so boisterous they'd get trigger happy and shoot into the air as a form of celebrating victorious fights. This was obviously making the entire caravan uncomfortable. This didn't sit well with the boys so Jelani called them out on it which the group obviously didn't like.

On the third week the head of the caravan sat down with Loke and made a deal with him and his brother. They were gonna fire the group of hired guns they hired, pay them for their time as to avoid them getting trigger happy, and hire Lo and Jela to escort them as far as they wanted. Lo and Jela agreed so they all had a sit down. It didn't go as smooth as they wanted but at least no one got shot. The mercs got their caps and begrudgingly left while scowling at Loke and Jelani.

The days went by without too much happening. The occasional rabid and/or radiated critter tried to start shit but Loke and Jelani quickly put a stop to it.

There were others around Jelani's age and Loke got sentimental watching him interact with other teenagers and just being one himself in a carefree way. He legit often questioned if he did a good job raising him. He knows their situation wasn't normal and Loke raised him like he was raised: to be prepared for the wasteland and all the shit it could throw at him. However, sometimes he felt he was training him, not raising him and often times he wondered if Jelani was happy and okay, if he felt loved and cared for or if he felt he needed something that Loke wasn't providing. Still, Loke just sat back and enjoyed seeing Jelani just be a teenager and not a mercenary for once. If he was gonna be honest with himself he was feeling sentimental due to the heartbreak of what he left behind in New Vegas and wondered if he would ever see him again.

Almost 2 weeks after the original hired guns were let go the caravan had stopped for the night to eat and then sleep. Much later into the night Dagny woke Jelani up but having had a few drinks he was kind of unresponsive and pushed her away. When she realized he wouldn't budge she went over to Loke but he just ignored her. Jelani then got up and walked away from the camp cuz all that alcohol he indulged in had worked its way through his system and he felt his bladder was about to burst. Dagny followed him as she usually does. Wherever that kid goes, she follows. Once he was finished he was grabbed by someone and taken further into the woods where he was hit hard enough in the back of the head that he blacked out. When he came to the first thing he noticed was that he was sitting on a chair in some old abandoned house, in what was once the basement and in front of him were all 8 of the hired guns from before. Jela then realized that he was handcuffed. As he looked around he noticed Dagny had been tied to some old pipes and her mouth was taped shut. Of course Jelani freaked out at that but Christian, the leader of the group, assured him she was safe and they weren't interested in her but the same couldn't be said about Jelani. See, Christian and the others were pretty salty that Loke and Jelani had cost them their job so they wanted to get even. Initially who they were targeting was Loke, Jelani hadn't even crossed their minds. He's just a kid, they figured he was just backing up his older brother. But once they saw Jelani they figured they could hurt Lo through Jela and they took him instead.

TL;DR version for those that don't want details. Look for ✅ for when the detailed version ends and the rest continues: Jelani was beaten and raped by all 8 of them.

Detailed version if you don't mind reading about this sorta thing: At first they were just gonna beat the shit outta him but Christian (*if you recognize this name from the original version what happened next shouldn't surprise you) is a massive piece of shit. From the second Lo and Jela joined the caravan he was eyeing Jela (yeah, in that way) and Loke noticed. He told him Jelani's a minor and to stay the fuck away from him or Loke would curb stomp him to death. Normally Loke wouldn't just threaten to kill someone looking to do harm to his brother. He would just pull out a gun, pop two in their skull and go about his normal day but the situation was a little restrictive. That just made it worse because Christian saw it as a challenge. So the original plan was just to beat 'im unconscious but Christian got bold as the beating went on.

Jela wasn't just gonna sit there and take it though. He managed to land a few good blows but his hands were handcuffed behind his back and the cuffs had been secured way too tightly making movement challenging. However, there were 8 of them and they soon overpowered him. They tossed him to the ground and got to work and after beating him to the point where Jelani was about to lose consciousness they stopped and Christian made a suggestion. He didn't outright say it but the wording was enough for Jelani to understand what his intentions were. He could take a beating, he'd been in fights before but what was being suggested unsettled him. As the group closed in he fought them off as best as he could even though a lot of his injuries made it hard. He managed to break one of their noses with a well placed headbutt but before he could continue to fight back Christian had grabbed an old beer bottle and smashed it on the back of Jela's head causing him to collapse and lose consciousness for almost 3 minutes.

On Christian's order they actually waited for him to wake back up to start the assault but not before taping his mouth shut and tying his legs. When one was doing the assault the others held him down and forced him awake whenever he looked like he was about to faint or punched him whenever he closed his eyes. After the third guy had his turn with Jelani Christian ripped the tape off his mouth, pushed the sharp end of a knife against his throat and threatened to slit his throat if he bit down and began to orally assault him while he waited for the others to finish. The one that had his turn with Jela would push his head forward, keeping it in place. It took all the strength Jelani didn't have left to push back. Occasionally they'd let go so he could catch his breath but they barely let him breathe long enough before Christian would continue. This was followed by mocks about "breathing through his nose" which he was bleeding from. When all 7 finished Christian had his turn and he was incredibly cruel about it. The other 7 were pretty rough with him but Christian made it a point to REALLY make it hurt and the more Jelani cried and screamed the more he'd make it hurt. Christian encouraged him to fight back in a mocking way but Jelani just couldn't anymore. He was far too exhausted, in too much pain and had already lost a lot of blood. Christian put his hands all over him while whispering some messed up shit in his ears (just fucked up shit related to what Christian was doing to Jela). Unlike the others he took his time too and occasionally continued to beat him. At one point Christian hit 'im with the broken beer bottle and split open his upper and lower lips.

This was already detailed and messed up enough so I left a detail or two out. When I say Christian was super cruel during the rape I mean he was very fucking cruel.

✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅

When Christian was done with Jelani the group left him there where he lost consciousness. Christian tried to clean some of the blood but he was covered in Jelani's blood. He took the key to the handcuffs and tossed it next to Jelani and left. Dagny had struggled so much that she broke the rope she was tied with and ran to Jelani but he was out cold. She pushed him a bit but he wasn't responding so she tracked down the camp to find Loke. Back at camp they noticed Jelani was missing and were getting ready to go out to look for him when Dagny came running towards Loke. He knew damn well that that nightstalker was never far from Jelani and seeing her snout taped shut scared the living fuck out of him. He took off the tape and got her to track Jelani down.

Eventually Dagny led Loke to some run down building 2 miles from the camp. Dagny ran down to the basement and started barking to get Loke's attention. When he reached the basement he felt his heart stop and his stomach drop. For a split second he thought Jelani was dead so he ran over and checked for a pulse. Once he found a pulse Loke checked him over and that's when he noticed Jelani's pants were down to his thighs. Loke started to panic and cry when he saw a lot of blood between Jelani's legs and the horror of the realization set in.

Loke carefully tried to get Jelani to wake up while trying to control his panicking as it wouldn't do either of them any good and he needed to focus on helping his kid brother. Eventually Lo managed to wake Jela up but as soon as Jela saw Lo he started to cry. He was in so much pain that he couldn't really move, he couldn't talk either.

No, Jela was NOT okay. Loke untied his legs, carefully removed the broken tape, uncuffed him, and took him back to the caravan where a doctor looked him over and confirmed what Loke had suspected. Among the injuries Jelani had a few cracked ribs, torn open lips, swollen black left eye (it wasn't swollen enough to be shut tho the sclera of that eye was bloody), vocal hemorrhaging (he screamed and yelled so much he tore his vocal cords), injured larynx from the strangulation, bruised mouth (the soft and hard palate), concussion, bruised wrists (from the hand cuffs), and lacerations and bruising.

Some of the injuries were treated, most others would recover on their own in 4 to 6 weeks if he took it easy, the cut to the back of his head needed 11 stitches and a lot of stimpaks and med-x was used on him to help with the recovery and alleviate some of the pain. The non-physical injuries were hard to tell, all the doctor could tell Loke was that it was only with time and support. Given the situation they decided to take a few days to sit and rest while Jelani somewhat "recovered". Loke was torn and twisted with guilt. He knew now that Dagny was trying to warn him there were intruders around but he ignored her.

As for Jelani he spent the first day away from the group and just cried. He didn't want anyone near him or touching him, he didn't wanna eat or drink anything much less let Loke near him. He didn't blame him at all, no one was to blame but he felt an immense amount of shame knowing how his brother found him and Jelani knew that Loke knew what had been done to him. On day 2 he just slept, he curled up next to his brother and slept. On day 3 he was quiet but at least he was eating again but everywhere he went he needed Loke to be there too. Jelani told Loke he just wanted to forget it happened and that holding the group because of him wasn't gonna change what had been done to him so the next morning they kept going.

As the days kept passing Loke noticed a bitterness in Jelani that wasn't there before and every time he asked him about it Jelani just told him to forget it. Loke gave him his space but kept a close eye on him because Loke knew Jelani was still hurting from the assault. He also noticed Jelani wasn't sleeping, not really. Every time he did fall asleep he'd wake up in a jolt and often times with tears in his eyes and shivering. He always refused to go back to sleep after that happened. Loke was obviously worried, he tried talking to Jelani but he'd change the subject or outright told Loke he just wanted to forget it happened. Regardless of not knowing how to help his kid brother he was determined to help him however he could.

Three weeks after the assault they were close to the outskirts of Massachusetts and the path they were using had been blocked by a ton of debris. The group stopped to check the map and try to find a way around as the debris was far too much and most of it looked very heavy to manually move. Jelani noticed an old warehouse next to a train station which they could use even though it would add an extra day depending on the status of the area. He volunteered to check it while Loke checked another possible route.

When both returned Loke said his route was fucked due to possibly the same storm that fucked up the main route but if they moved carefully they could get through and maybe move some of the debris out of the way. Jelani reported that while the map was outdated his was still a viable route to take and wouldn't take 3 to 4 days like the other route would. Somehow a large and deep fissure formed next to the warehouse and a river passed through it now but it seemed like a rickety wooden bridge suspended by rope was used to connect both sides of the fissure. It wasn't very wide so they'd have to take it slowly. Loke insisted that the other way seemed safer even if it would take a lot longer but Jelani kept insisting that the way he was suggesting was better. In the end Loke relented and the group went the way Jelani suggested.

As they reached the warehouse a massive deathclaw emerged from behind them and began to attack the group. Some people were injured but Loke ran towards the massive lizard and got its attention while telling Jelani to get everyone into the warehouse and to stay in there with them. Jelani got everyone inside the warehouse and told them to keep quiet but instead of staying inside like Loke had ordered he grabbed his mom's sniper and ran out to help his brother. The deathclaw had pinned Loke down on the bridge and had slashed at him in several areas and was about to bite down but Jelani shot it in the back getting the creature's attention. It didn't immediately go for him because right behind Jelani was a smaller deathclaw that pounced on him and began slashing at him. Loke freaked out and shot the animal in the head while the bigger deathclaw was distracted. The smaller one died instantly but pinned Jelani down as it was heavy. The big one turned to run towards Loke. It managed to pin him down again but before it could do anything Jelani shot it again and this time he managed to shoot one of its eyes out. As the massive beast turned its attention to Jelani Loke had gotten out a knife and began cutting the rope while yelling at the deathclaw though its attention was fully on Jelani as it crept towards him.

Jelani noticed what Loke was doing and began to freak the fuck out as he tried to push the smaller dead deathclaw off of him. As the bridge waddled when one side came apart the deathclaw looked back at Loke and froze as it seemed to realize the bridge was breaking. It tried to run but Loke began to cut the other rope in time to stop it from getting to Jelani.

As Loke finished cutting the rope he looked at Jelani and both looked at each other momentarily as Loke said, "I love you!". Jelani managed to push off the deathclaw, ran to the edge and watched in absolute horror as his brother fell through the fissure and hit the water. His screaming turned to cries as he desperately yelled for his brother but the only thing he saw resurface was the deathclaw. The group came out of the warehouse and ran to Jela but couldn't find Lo anywhere. They saw the bridge was broken and Jela at the edge of the fissure crying and screaming and they put two and two together. They tried to get Jelani to go with them but he refused to move. They kept trying to get him to move but eventually he pulled a gun out on them and told them he wasn't going to leave without his brother. He even refused any of them to treat his wounds.

There really was nothing they could do for him so they left his and his brother's things next to him and an extra bag with food, water, medicine and some ammo and continued on their way.

Jelani spent 4 days just sitting in the same spot hoping against hope that Loke survived the fall and was just slowly making his way back to him. On the 5th day he accepted the fact that Loke wasn't coming back and he'd just lost the only person he ever had and loved. He grabbed his things, the extra bag, Dagny, and made his way to Boston.

[tothedarkdarkseas]

"Life Itself" by Glass Animals reminds me of an AU in which Stu never met Murdoc and just stayed in Crawley. If Stu ever saw what he became like in this timeline, I wonder if he'd still miss his old life.

(I'm sorry that I have to stamp late apologies on all of the asks right now! It's a bit of a mad time of year and I can get a bit spacey when I sit down to answer.)

I'm not familiar with this song, but the lyrics are fairly interesting! It posits that the father is coddling while the mother is disparaging, which is an uncommon dynamic, it's a unique choice to write from that perspective. I know it's not the point of the question but just idling on the subject-- I tend to see Rachel as almost tragically forgiving toward Stuart, indulging the habits she helped form, never quite at peace nor falling to pieces for his shortcomings. She sees the best in him and doesn't quite let slip the thought that he's been at all held back from his best. David on the other hand is never harsh, never punishing or unkind to his son, but he isn't warm and open and praising either, not the picture of gushing idolization of the child. I think they have a disconnected sort of love between them because David doesn't need greatness from Stu, but that thought has formed chiefly because he does not expect it. A life beyond mechanical work or keyboard repair is not a life David has ever humored as a realistic outcome. Anyway! I like these lines especially:

I'm waking up, lost in boxes outside Tesco Look like a bum sipping codeine Coca-Cola

That's a great speculation, and the answer, you assume, is that it's always better not knowing. You assume seeing the reality of it is something Stuart does not face, for there's no worldly thing that can make him accept a possibility that does not flatter him as the reality. I think that is the appeal of the unachieved and the unknown, and that keeps Stuart tethered to this weight of half-baked regret and never full-hearted graciousness. It allows Stuart that indulgent freedom to mope, to blame, to resent, to wish-- there is nothing but a borderless expanse of greener fields, because that is what fuels the spiral.

Despite saying that, I think that on some very private level he knows-- not "knows this is likely," I don't think he wants to believe anything less than happiness is "likely" under different circumstances, but knows that this could have been. Knows there's a hair of a chance that he fizzles and stagnates, that he never finds genuine purpose, that he stops bringing girls 'round his because it's harder to reconcile how little he has for them, that everything he's accomplished now is due to his misfortune meeting Murdoc and undoing that pulls a pivotal jenga brick from the tower's base.

And still, there are days he'll think he'd prefer it. I think Stuart's struggle, and the most compelling character arc he could've had, would be confronting this cloudy-headed sullenness, this insatiable appetite for discontent; not an arc of forgiveness or redemption for Murdoc's wrongs, but of Stuart choosing the distance, keeping his back to bridges that are littered with matches but the stone stands unburnt, and growing into a resigned acceptance that wants, thoughts, dreams, escapes, they have no weight and gripping onto them is like gripping at air. Harder still is the acceptance that cutting yourself free of an anchor doesn't change that. The rope doesn't catch on something that never existed, and instead it hangs in the space where once you stayed fastened, your life now aimless and your desires nomadic. And maybe you want that, you think. Maybe you should settle in the feeling, in the lack of it. Maybe being lost is better than sinking. And the thing is, there isn't a rejection or confirmation of that; there isn't an answer to it, not one that sits well. I think in that arc, there ceases to be a point in stewing on whether he's better off without Murdoc, because being "better"-- as he is, with his experiences, his memories, his hands and head and all they've held between them-- may not be something Stu's able to see the shape of anymore.

[sagau-fruit-bowl]

HELLO! HI! I HAVE JUST COME TO THE REALIZATION NOTHING IS STOPPING ME FROM WRITING HEADCANONS OF [NAME] BEING LIKE, 14 IN GUIDE AU AND BEING ADOPTED BY EVERYONE

Keep in mind this is not the canon, this is me having ideas that make my found family loving heart very happy. 

Please enjoy but either way, oh well because I need to write this for my soul.

This also isn't very good, this is me rambling and it has been sitting in my drafts because I didn't know if I should post it or not.

For some context... ish. This is very self indulgent.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

 

[Name] didn't always look their age, or act it to be honest, and when people think you're a god they let you get away with a lot of things.

So honestly [Name] didn't bother telling anyone their age, it didn't bother anyone, it's not like they had anyone flirting with them, it's not like it would gain them any respect, the only thing it might provide was an explanation for some more childish behaviors of theirs but if you look at Venti, you know it's uncommon of gods to be immature.

It only really came up on accident though someone was bound to find out someday.

It was supposed to be just another Teyvat meeting. Zhongli had some paperwork he wanted signed, Ei had some questions about offerings, Childe wanted me to help him fight Aether, Diluc was fighting the urge to drop kick Scaramouche, Xiao and Venti had gone somewhere and Albedo and Dainsleif were caught in a conversation about some kind of project, that wasn't everyone but it was normal.

However, [Name] found a bit of a problem in the paperwork and sighed. They really didn't want to lie about their age or have anyone know but unfortunately this piece of paper was about payment for items and required you to be of legal age, something [Name] was unfortunately not, so they slid the paper back over in Zhongli's direction who then looked up at them.

"Was there something wrong with it?" He asked and [Name] shrugged.

"I can't sign it. I'm not old enough yet."

Zhongli paused at that, staring at them for a few moments. "Please repeat that…"

"I'm not old enough to sign that. You need to be at least eighteen. to sign for anything regarding financial issues in that country, I'm not." [Name] did their best to reply casually and not make a big deal out of it and luckily for them, Zhongli seemed pretty relaxed about the whole thing. 

"How old are you exactly?" He asked.

[Name] internally sighed, hoping there wouldn't be any getting in trouble for this. "Fourteen."

Zhongli blanched and [Name] could tell they were likely going to get a rant regarding the fact they had signed so much paperwork, but he surprised them, simply asking "Why didn't you inform us?"

Again, [Name] shrugged. "No reason to. I have a bedroom I can act like a kid in if I so chose."

Unfortunately Zhongli shook his head "No, that won't do. I'll speak with the other archons about lessening your workload and finding you some friends in your age range."

[Name] held back a look of disgust. "No thank you. I'm doing fine, please just treat me according to how I act."

Zhongli nodded and [Name] hoped that would be the end of it.

_______________________________

Update, it was not the end of it. Two days later, [Name] had been called out to make an appearance in Liyue, some sort of holiday celebration. 

If [Name] was being truthful, they weren't actually listening during the meeting, planning their later adventure with Venti and Kaeya, unfortunately that meant they had no clue what they had said yes too.

They had arrived only twenty minutes before but found themselves facing both Zhongli and Childe at a restaurant that had been reserved and [Name] fought to the urge to berate the duo over just how much money this must have cost.

Not long into the meal, Zhongli brought it up again, this time, and [Name] was tempted to say he did this on purpose, with Childe in the room. 

"So, Your Grace, I've spoken at length with the other archons over how your duties will change now that we are aware of your situation."

Childe raised an eyebrow "Situation?" He asked.

"Don't worry about it." [Name] told him, glaring daggers into the archon's head, who simply smiled like the self assured asshole he is and spoke, much to [Name]'s chagrin. "Their age. Their Grace is in fact, a minor."

[Name] had to restrain themselves from making a I'm a Minor, and I'm Neurodivergent joke, but decided against it.

Childe looked over to them in shock "You're a kid?! But you act so old… that does explain a lot though."

[Name] rolled their eyes "I don't know if that's a compliment or an insult."

Childe grinned before pausing for a moment and asking another question "What about your family?"

[Name] also paused.

"What do you mean?" Zhongli asked.

Childe straightened himself in his chair as he explained. "Most human children really should spend as much time as possible with their family. I don't know how old they are exactly-" Childe was cut off by Zhongli "Fourteen" "Oh that's even worse. Your Grace, again I ask, what about your family?"

[Name] shrugged once more. "They showed me how to care for myself, I'm sure they'll appreciate that I'm putting those oh so important life skills to use."

Child shook his head. "That's not what I meant. I mean, what are you going to do about your family now?"

"I just told you, they'll be fine." 

Childe looked over to Zhongli who shrugged. He knew he wasn't the most aware of the emotional needs of human or godly children.

Childe groaned in annoyance and turned back to [Name] "I mean, you're gonna need somebody to be a sibling or parental figure."

[Name] stared at him. "... No. I refuse. Absolutely not. All of you act more like children than I do. Not a fucking chance."

To [Name]'s annoyance, Childe just laughed "I'd be happy to be your older brother. I'm sure my parents would also be happy to be your parents."

Zhongli nodded slowly in understanding. "If it's a parental figure you need, an archon like myself would be a much better choice to teach you about growing up into godhood."

[Name] buried their face into their arms and groaned.

_______________________________

When [Name] made a return to Mondstadt, they had a few more unwelcome interactions regarding their legal guardian.

It midday on a so far enjoyable Saturday afternoon, they sat in the training grounds of the Knights headquarters, watching Jean care for Klee and witnessing Bennetts usual stunts when training with Kaeya. [Name] winced at a particularly hard smack on the older man's ankles.

They almost didn't notice when the wind began to pick up, chiming in their ears and attempting to draw their attention.

[Name] tuned into their song just long enough to hear the wind call Venti's name before tuning out once more and mentally preparing themselves for his arrival.

As always when the bard arrived, it wasn't without his share of theatrics.

He had apparently jumped from the top of the knights of Favonius headquarters and didn't bother to use anything to catch his fall until the last moment.

[Name] wasn't startled at his arrival, the warning from the wind being enough, but Bennett sure was, resulting in missed swing from his mentor and a hard blow to his side.

Kaeya looked to the side awkwardly for a moment before regaining his usual demeanor. "And that, is why you don't take your eyes off of your opponent."

Venti simply smiled at let out a small '"ehe!" Before turning to face [Name] who looked at him in confusion as they greeted him.

"Good Morning Venti… Is there something you need?"

He grinned and [Name] just knew they had opened the floodgates to something they didn't want.

"I hear you need a family."

They resisted the urge to punch his stupid smily face.

"I don't need a family." They told him "I'm perfectly fine without a family here in Teyvat."

Jean looked over at the two in curiosity "What are you talking about?"

Venti grinned even wider but [Name] jumped to their feet and placed their hands over his mouth before he could speak, leaving his words as untranslatable noises.

[Name] answered for the muffled god. "Nothing, don't worry about it. Go back to your previous task."

Venti laughed behind their hand and forcibly pulled their arm away from his face. "Their Grace is a child~" he told Jean in a sing song voice.

"Really? You're gonna talk like that and claim I'm the kid in this situation?"

Jean stared at [Name] for a while before whispering "Are you really?"

[Name] rolled their eyes. "Yes. Yes I am. I am fourteen years of age."

She looked at [Name] with a level of pity that tempted them to throw her off a cliff.

"That must be so lonely… to be in a new world without a family… I would gladly take you in if you wanted me as your mother."

[Name] huffed. "This, this is why I don't tell people."

_______________________________

[Name] had no plans for returning to Mondstadt or Liyue for the time and visiting Snezhnaya would only make Childe's insistence worse, so Inazuma it is.

Arriving, they were constantly on guard for any comment that could have been made towards their age and when they could have sworn Ei was going to say something, they quickly redirected the conversation, requesting to plan a visit to the Kamisato estate, hoping, praying, to anyone who would listen and apparently themselves that nothing would be said.

When they arrived at the estate, all they wanted to do was discuss business. The first conversation ended up derailed however, instead of focusing on trade deals with Snezhnaya and moving towards family stories, Ayato had plenty of stories to tell about his dear younger sister.

It was a story that took place when Ayaka was around [Name]'s age that caused them to tense and one of the two to ask what was wrong.

Honestly [Name] had enough of avoiding the topic at this point that they simply explained, starting with the fact they were fourteen and ending with several tales of people insisting they have a legal guardian while in Teyvat.

"See, the issue is that if I choose someone to be my family, it's like choosing a vessel but twenty times worse. If I choose the wrong person, they'll hold it over everyone else's head for eternity!"

Ayato and Ayaka simply shared a look. "Perhaps" Ayaka began "You could be a part of our family. You'd definitely enjoy it and we promise to be respectful towards others." 

Ayato chuckled "For the most part at least."

[Name] simply shook their head. "I'm fine as I am. I really really am."

_______________________________

It was almost 3 weeks later when [Name] got a knock on the door to their bedroom. 

With a call for them to enter, [Name] put down the book they were reading onto their desk and directed their attention to the door as Childe, Ayato, Venti and Zhongli walked in, closely followed by Jean. [Name] knew this wasn't going to be good.

"Well good morning to you all as well… to what do I owe this meeting?" They asked after a long stretch of silence.

More silence filled the room until Childe broke it, a stack of papers that [Name] realized was in his hand was plopped down in front of them at their desk and [Name] looked at the papers in confusion. "What's this?"

The group looked between each other before Jean spoke up. "Adoption paperwork."

[Name] could only facepalm.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

There was nothing stopping me and my found family loving heart had to. I'll probably expand on this idea further once I have brain power if y'all don't hate it.

@sayomiikaye @eccedentesiast-sapphic (this is part of the being tagged in random headcanons/ideas stuff but if you'd like me to not tag you in this kind of non-canon content, please do let me know.)

[babbushka]

I’m excited to read all your Kylo AU Sinday writing! May I please request these with either medieval Kylo or archaeological Kylo?

“Swoon, I’ll catch you.” And “You have bewitched me..”

Thank you! 💛

A/N: Thank you so much for sending this in!! I hope you enjoy this fluffy smutty something! :)

2k; NSFW (skinny dipping, public nudity, sex in water)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bobbing ever so gently with the current of the river, you breathe in deeply, feeling the warm air of summer fill your lungs, your chest expanding and deflating in a rhythm dictated by the breeze. It it late in the afternoon, and soon you will be expected to return to the throne room, but you still have some time.

Intent on using that time to the fullest of capacities, you lay atop the water, your arms and legs spread out as your hair floats in a great halo around your head. Yes, you think as you breathe, smiling a little as the current whooshes in a calm push past you, you are quite content.

Until that is, a pair of strong arms grab you, making you splutter and snap out of your reverie at once, baring your teeth to whomever has dared disturb your relaxation.

“Unhand me at once or I shall -- !” You start, heart pounding in your chest, a million thoughts running through your mind as you think of the quickest way to incapacitate your captor...

Before you recognize the deep rumbling laughter that comes from the direction of your captor’s chest, and you sigh with fond exasperation, knowing he is not a captor at all.

“You really must learn to pay more attention, my pearl.” Kylo grins with all his crooked teeth, as if he has won some great victory in catching you off guard.

Oh, but he has, won a victory of a different kind. He is home early and the confident attitude he is positively brimming with tells you that it was an early win, another battle claimed by the Empire that you know and love.

You find that you cannot be angry with him for surprising you like this, for it is in his very nature, the element of sneaky silent surprise. So instead, you allow the joy at your husband’s return to fill you, as you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him for all that you’re worth, grinning with your own indulgent happiness.

“Swoon, don’t worry I’ll catch you.” The cheeky bastard teases you, and you can only chuckle brightly at the good mood that he is in. It is rare for him to be so good-spirited, he tended to scowl even on the best of days. But today was a day for celebration, and you have no intention to stop him now.

“Insufferable, you are,” Rolling your eyes teasingly right back, before shaking your head and kissing him again, and again, and again, your body pressing to his as you hum, “But so handsome. I missed you, your highness.”

“Here I am.” He murmurs against your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, hands not once letting you go as he holds you to him.

“Finally.” You agree with a sigh of relief.

Kylo looks at you then, really looks at you, and it’s the sort of look that makes you hold your breath in heady anticipation, as his chest puffs with deep panting breaths of his own. You wish you could see him free of all his many layers, knowing that the sight would be divine.

And then, almost as if on cue, Kylo decides he does not want to be confined by his clothing any longer, and he pulls away from you to begin stripping down. You grin, perching yourself on a large smooth rock that juts up from the pebbles and sand of the river floor, watching as he reveals himself to you.

His armor comes off in large sections, and he takes care to rest them on the bank of the river. It’s not a very wide river thankfully, so he doesn’t have to go too far. Next comes his tunic, and then his shirt, before he can struggle to shuck off his hose and boots. In just a few short moments, he is completely nude, and my what a marvel it is to see him in the light of day like this, you think.

You yourself are wearing your chemise, a small barrier between your naked body and the elements around you. It does nothing to hide the shape of you though, as the cotton goes completely transparent when wet. It is that transparency that has Kylo’s mouth watering, you find, when he surges back to wrap you up in his arms again, and you feel the hard length of his cock pressing against your stomach.

“Fuck, Kylo, here?” You look around with a giddy laugh, surprised by his lack of care for being so exposed.

“Why not, we are rulers of this domain, why should we not indulge in our pleasure wherever we’d like?” Kylo replies with another searing hot kiss, the muscles in his arms flexing as he presses you close to him.

You kiss him back, and before you know it, he’s lifting you up with the help of the water, bracing you against that large smooth rock once more, and pushing up the wet chemise that clings to your body. Helping him with a moan, you manage to lift it up enough to expose all the way up to your stomach, and without wasting much more time, your husband guides the head of his aching hard cock to your cunt.

“Oh how I have missed the feeling of being so full.” Your head lolls back on the makeshift pillow as he pushes in, a happy sigh of pleasure breathing out of your lungs.

The way Kylo fucks you is animalistic in moments like these -- his instincts take over, the primal urge to be close to you, to be inside you, it consumes him, and in turn, he consumes you. With a hand on your throat to hold you steady, Kylo bites and licks into your mouth, his hips wasting no time to begin thrusting in and out of your wanting pussy, your moans filling the air around you, carried down the river by the breeze.

“Kylo! Oh my darling, more, please give me more!” You cry out, the pleasure immediate and so, so delicious.

He doesn’t say much, doesn’t say anything at all, just grunts out his pleasure as his mouth covers yours completely, sucks down all your moans sighs pants grunts of pleasure, swallows them the way your cunt sucks in his cock, a vice grip, not wanting to let go.

It’s been weeks since you’ve last seen him, which means it’s been weeks since you’ve been properly fucked, and he knows that just as well as you. Holding your hips tight to keep them steady, he fucks you hard, fucks you with all the pent up sexual frustration he’s harbored over the time and distance between you.

You can feel the way his cock presses itself as deep as it can go, you whine as it knocks against your cervix, the force of his hips pushing you up up up the rock, your hands gripping his shoulders, fingers digging in the muscle there as you throw your head back and plead, panting, begging for him to take you harder, faster.

Kylo does, oh he does, touching you all over your body, stimulating you from every possible point. His hands leave your hips, one moves farther down your body to press his thumb against your swollen clit, eliciting a yelp of pleasure from your throat. The other reaches up to pinch and roll a nipple, feeling for the stiff bud from over your chemise where the wet cloth has clung to it.

It doesn’t satisfy him though, and so wordlessly, with all his strength he tears your chemise right in two, and you gasp, the sudden feeling of river water and his hard hot body pressing down on your bare skin. Kylo kisses all across your chest, sucking and biting in his wake, the newly exposed flesh begging to be marked.

“Yes, right there, oh please right there -- more!” You demand, and he’s all too happy to oblige, as he holds you down, pins you to the best of his ability, grinding his hips against yours on long thick drags of his cock.

Your hips lift, back arching off the rock, as your moans and whimpers grow more and more desperate. You’re so close, this close to coming, your body begins to tremble with the want of it. Oh how long had you waited for this feeling, you pant and writhe beneath him, as his cock drags against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“Please, I’m so close, just a little more, please darling!” You can taste it, the edge of adrenaline in the back of your throat, on your tongue. Kylo knows exactly how to push you over, and he puts all his concentration into it, into getting the timing right.

When he rubs your clit in just the right way, his cock brushing up against your spot once, twice, three times, your body snaps up with sharp pleasure, and you shout loud enough that it scares the birds away from the bushes on the bank of the river. Kylo fucks you through your orgasm, making you moan loud loud loud, the pleasure overwhelming as he speeds his pace up.

Sometimes he’ll drag it out long enough that you can come a couple times on his cock before he spills inside of you, but you know he must be tired from the long journey home, so when he grunts and groans against your throat only a few minutes after, before finally going still, you only smile, glad that he too has come.

He begins to kiss you then, kissing you with an urgency that has you confused in your blissful state. Kylo crushes you ever so slightly, not wanting to move away just yet, and while you’re not complaining, you do have to ask,

“What is the matter?” You pant against him as his body is a solid weight against you.

Kylo is quiet for a moment, and you feel the current of the river washing away all the come and slick, carrying it away off to heavens knows where, cleansing you of this sweaty filthy act. You are almost compelled to ask again, but you know better, and that he will reply when he has the words.

Kissing you again, he tries to press these words into your very being, gentle with you yes, but still an edge of danger, of desire that he cannot shake. You kiss him back, letting yourselves let the water rush over your bodies, simply being together for a few moments more.

“You have bewitched me, body and soul...and I love,” Kylo punctuates these words with more kisses, soft and gentle atop your lips, across your face, “I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you.”

Oh how your heart beats for this man, you can’t help but think, for even after fucking you so hard that you can barely see straight, you can see how dearly he cares for you.

“Then by my side you shall remain.” You nuzzle your nose against his, and he only presses his hard cock deeper into your warm cunt in response. Smiling with bliss and joy, you card Kylo’s hair away from his face and kiss him, whispering, “There is a banquet prepared for you, a grand feast. After the performance you just gave, I’m sure you are hungry for it.”

“In a moment.” He turns to press a kiss to your palm, before hoisting you off of the rock, pulling you to his chest, encouraging your legs to wrap around his hips, “Let me hold you a while longer, just a little while.”

Resting your head on his shoulder, you let him do just that, until the water of the river turns chilly as the late afternoon sun moves across the sky. You would stay like that with him for all eternity, should he desire so, for with him so near, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tagging some Kylo lovin' friends!

@mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @kylo-ren-is-alive @caitlin-was-here @canikeepitonplease @icarusinthesea @princessflip @goddessofsprings @mrs-gucci @baubub @bucky-j-barnes @mindyoshiii @beachwoodmonet @darkhairedmenrule @eagerforhoney @nekonaomitard @einmal-im-traum @justlenastuff @0nihiime

[ophiebot]

OH MY GOD. GREEN KNIGHT AU. PLEASE TELL ME MORE

*cracks knuckles* I saw the movie like two days ago and I couldn't get the aesthetics out of my head. It was really immersive and surreal and ooooo I'm a sucker for chainmail and quests.

I haven't exactly laid out the proper framework for it yet but the gist so far is that MC (which in my case is a tired and timid non-binary 20 something with a mullet) is a soon to be knight with a strong enough relation to the king to be in consideration for the throne. The king in this au being Asgore. I tend to see him as a somewhat morally grey character; well-intentioned but often misguided in his attempts to do what he thinks is best for his people. He acts as somewhat of a mentor to MC and has raised them (distantly) since their parents died when they were young. Sans is an on again off again member of the court who has been maintaining a casual relationship with MC while harboring more intense feelings for them. However, he's the number one enabler of their ... indulgent side. Be that laying around all day, sleeping in, or messing around.

During a ceremonial gathering of the court for some celebration or other a hulking stranger crashes the party on horseback and asks if any member of the table would play a game with him...

To step forward and strike him with his own axe under the condition that they meet him again one year later to receive a blow in return.

Under silence from his court, Asgore steps up to meet the challenge, only to have MC offer their own hand in the game to protect him.

The stranger, clad in armor made of bark that is only just visible under the massive cloak hiding most of his form, dismounts. His feet land heavily on the stone ground, echoing. A piercing light from the shadow of his hood illuminates what they think is a skull underneath. It falls on them, scrutinizing their form.

The way they shake.

The huge axe set over his shoulder is lowered. The hilt is placed on the ground with a reverberation that betrays its weight.

His other arm reaches up and pulls back the hood to reveal...a skull...and a gnarl of roots twisting over half of his entire face like a parasite. Some inching across and into the eye socket that isn't covered.

He smiles down at them, looking content and pleased. His teeth are huge and sharp. Menacing and stark and frightening against the soft expression he offers them. They swallow thickly, eyes darting away briefly as they are unsure of what to do with the sudden attention. They briefly catch sight of Sans sitting across the way, watching them wide-eyed and paler than they imagined a skeleton could even get. He looks like he might jump across the table now just to stop them.

The sound of a heavy footstep brings them back to the situation at hand. He's come only a step closer, and is holding out the axe like an offering, though they're unsure they'd even be able to keep the thing upright let alone strike him with it-

He stares at them pointedly and doesn't move an inch. They think fleetingly that he could so easily be mistaken for a statue. Some monster of myth forever captured in stone....er, wood? But the light in his socket is very much alive, they have to blink once just to focus again. Their eyes fall to the axe. 

Do they just...take it? He remains unmoving as they reach a hand out....as they take it from him easily. Have they found some miraculous strength or is the thing really just light enough for them to lift with only little effort? It doesn't seem to matter either way. He looks pleased.

The thing they hadn't been expecting was for the giant of a knight to kneel before them. He doesn't break his gaze from them once, pushing his cloak out behind himself. They're only a couple inches taller than him now...even after he's lowered down to the ground.

Then comes his voice. Like thunder....or like the creaking of a thousand year old tree in the wind before a storm.

“take your aim, little knight.”

Their eyes widen considerably, stumbling back a pace and barely catching themselves as they rock back with the weight of the axe. They tremble. They hesitate “...You...you must fight me for it, surely?” They say carefully, tensing in their stance in case he does decide to rise again and attack them. He blinks at them, a shadow of the grin from before returning as his eye sockets lid halfway. He gives no response. This only flusters them further, unsure of what to do. Their face screws up in mild frustration.  

“What are you doing? Rise and face me.” Again he doesn’t speak.... instead he tilts his head down and to the side to expose his neck to them. “strike.”

They stare down at him blankly. They could feel eyes on them from every corner of the room, baring down at them at every angle. No one breathed a word as the exchange took place. They stood, adjusting and fidgeting with their grip on the handle of his massive weapon. This....it didn’t feel like honor. What kind of challenge was this? To kill a man on his knees...did it have to do with courage? Proving they had any stomach for killing at all? They take one final desperate look around the room. 

They look to Asgore, who is watching with a hard expression on his face.

His gaze meets theirs steadily, and it feels like an eternity as he nods.  Their attention is pulled back to the prone monster on his knees.  “fine, then. have it your way” They lift the axe above their head. They aren’t sure where to aim, its like white is searing their vision. Maybe an arm...just a cut on the cheek...

They cry out as they swing the weapon down and it seeks its true target. 

The monsters skull is lopped clean off, with nothing but the sound of the blade cutting air and a splattering of blood. It thuds to the ground and rolls a short distance away. They stand there panting heavily, gripping tight to the handle of the axe. The room is silent save for their breathing. They see white, hot and humid. They can smell the sharp of iron in the air...fresh. Another eternity passes til a sound is made again....the monsters body which had slumped to the ground lifeless...began to push itself up again. it slowly stands once more, and has no trouble finding its head and bending to pick it up. They cant move as they watch him. Rooted to the spot in some mix of bewilderment and horror. He turns to them, head held to his chest now. 

That eye socket blinks, the light inside flickering back to life bright as ever.

He looks them over for a moment before grinning. The head laughs, deep and rolling....like the very earth shaking. He seems far too happy with the turn of events. “...one...year...hence.”

With a blink he’s gone, along with his horse. Only his fading laugh echoing through the hall. His blood smeared across the floor...and his axe....still clutched tight within their grip.

[dat-town]

not gonna miss this chance

Characters: Han Seojun & soloist!female reader

Genre: fluff

Setting: true beauty au, set a year after the tv show’s ending timeline

Summary: Your career is on the verge of ending, hence your management puts you up to do a duet with the infamous Han Seojun. You have heard too many rumours about him to keep track of and yet, none of them could have prepared you for the feelings that came with meeting him.

Words: 4.1k

Self indulgent little snippet because he deserves happiness too.

You had heard of Han Seojun before meeting him, of course you had. Everybody who was in the industry had heard of the hot trend of a Newstagram star-turned idol and his band's shining debut from a year ago. They were told to have snatched teenage girls hearts all over Korea with their good looks and soulful music. You had heard their title track and you had to admit it was nice but nice wasn't enough in a cut-throat industry like entertainment.

Look at you, starting training at twelve, debuting at fifteen and now barely twenty-one you were on the verge of becoming a thrown away doll. Once you had been called cute and the it girl of your generation and now? People were saying you got boring just because your music had matured. Gosh, you couldn't keep singing about first love like your hit song had been for the rest of your life for god's sake. Your last album had been a flop, your company had been losing money and you were still afraid that even with a year left of your contract, they would cut you. But your manager had begged them for a chance and here it was: a collaboration with the newest love of Korea.

But the thing was, Han Seojun had quite a reputation and you didn't know who to believe. Some said he was well-mannered and hard-working. Others gossiped that he was always flirting with his makeup artists and Chen claimed he had been rude to her even when he had just been a ‘nobody’. Not that you were particularly fond of Chen either but as a fellow solo female singer you were a tad bit worried how the infamous singer would treat you.

Well, standing in front of Move Entertainment, you were just about to find out. Taking a shallow breath you followed your manager's lead, bowing to the receptionist and getting into the elevator after taking your visitor's badge. You had heard the company has gone through many changes after the executives were replaced due to the revealed Seyeon scandal but everything looked expensive, shiny and new, unlike in your small agency.

“Hey, I’m Lim Heekyung, nice to meet you. Seojun will be in a minute, too,” a woman in a pantsuit walked up to you on the right floor with a confident smile as she introduced herself. She led you to a meeting room which was apparently customized for a few people only and started preparing papers. She looked excited which was a relief and nice to see, at least someone from Move Entertainment was happy for this project apparently. You were a bit afraid they would see you like a leech, trying to cling onto their new star’s popularity.

“Shall we start? Seojun is a fan of dramatic entrances anyways,” Miss Lim laughed joyfully as if it wasn’t new to her that the idol didn’t make it on time. Ah yeah, you had heard rumours saying that he had something on the company and that was why they were so lenient with him.

You sat in silence, let your manager do the talk about the collaboration project. Seojun could play the guitar, you could play the piano, apparently it was perfect for a ballad duet, though if you used instruments yourself it added to the preparations time. But luckily, there was a songwriter named Leo at the company who had already sent in a few samples specifically for Seojun, so you didn’t have to start from zero.

“Ah, I see you started without me. What did I miss?” A tall boy opened the door wide and flipped down onto the chair across you casually. He had grown into his lanky limbs and with those wide shoulders hugged by the leather jacket, helix earrings in one ear and soft brown hair brushed to one side, it wasn’t a surprise how many female fans swooned over him. But there were a lot of handsome boys in the business, just his looks – no matter how confident he was in them based on the way he carried himself – wouldn’t make a difference.

Miss Lim patiently let Seojun know about the advances and only when she mentioned your name, did the boy glance at you. His dark brown eyes had a sharp form, just as piercing as his gaze, but the cunning smile spreading over his lips softened it a bit. He looked at you as if he wanted to see through you, to figure out how he should have approached you. You expected a snarky or arrogant comment, but in the end, he just flashed a blinding smile at you, one you could see on his posters, before turning back to Miss Lim.

“What’s the schedule?” he asked simply and you both were notified about the deadline of deciding and finalizing the song, the dates of planned recording sessions and the photoshoot. Since there would be no promotion period, it all would be done within a month and half from start to finish. You were a bit relieved hearing that and leave Move Entertainment without any confrontation.

You thought you were good at masking your wary feelings since the further meetings went well and the first recording session went okay-ish. Although both of you had been a bit scolded by the producer for not putting enough feelings into your singing. He claimed that the demo sent by Leo was much more emotional which made Seojun scoff and mumble under his nose. The PD called it for a day, making you promise to practice for next time and one by one they all left. Your manager told you that he would bring the car while you refresh yourself in the bathroom, so you really didn’t expect anyone to wait for you when you stepped out of the restroom, much less Han Seojun.

"Spit it out," he bit out barely glancing your way as he leaned against the corridor’s wall.

"What?" you spluttered as you were really taken aback by his out of blue appearance and question. The guy let out a tired sigh at your obliviousness and pushed himself away from the wall just to walk up to you, towering over your height with his.

"You look at me as if I killed your hamster or something. Which rumour about me bothers you? I fucking can't keep walking on eggshells around you, especially when it's just the two of us," he tsked and you gulped at the sudden called out. You didn’t think it bothered him, or that he was considerate enough to ‘walk on eggshells around you’, you merely thought he was so distant from everybody. It was still better than what Chen had told you.

"Oh, I… nothing. It's stupid. Sorry," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed for your your actions but Seojun apparently wasn’t satisfied without a real answer as he carried on:

"I didn't bully kids in high school but I threatened ones that deserved it, I didn't only get a pity chance from the entertainment, one of our makeup artists is actually one of my best friends, I'm not…"

"Chen told me you are rude and arrogant and have no respect for girls," you blurted out to stop him from speaking because you felt like you didn’t deserve to hear all that. He didn’t owe you any explanation for the way he was. You were just co-workers for a project after all, you had no place in his life, nor he had in yours, so he shouldn’t have been that bothered by your opinion but you understood that he felt uncomfortable due to your silent accusations.

Hearing your hasty interruption, the singer scoffed, a laugh-like sound leaving his mouth.

"Well, I have no respect for girls like Chen who harass my friends and turn their lives into hell just to go on a date with me," he said and it made you blink slowly.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Check your facts before you go around believing such crap," Seojun stepped back with a roll of his eyes.

The whole situation made you feel made about how you acted, so you wished to apologise but it fell from your lips all too carelessly: "Sorry, I was just worried. This is my last chance, so–"

"Last chance?" the guy quirked a brow at you, curious but you quickly waved his question away.

"Nevermind, I just need this song to do well."

"Of course, it will. I'm Han Seojun, it will turn to gold under my hands," he grinned and made eccentric gestures as if he was about to do magic. You couldn't help a smile. “Or well, vocal chords.”

And turn it to gold, he did.

The rest of your recording sessions went smoother, even the previously grumpy PD complimented your for the development in your chemistry. Funny, you wouldn’t have thought that the wall pulled up between the two of you mattered that much, but at least you didn’t have a knot in your stomach, nor did you worry about every small thing you did around Han Seojun. He also acted more casual, more playful, joking around when both of you had a bit of time to take a breather. He snapped silly pictures, showed off with his height, smirked when he got too close but despite all his bravado and lowkey flirting, you believed even he wouldn’t have jeopardised his career over something like this.

Maybe that's why wrapping up the recording felt a tad bit weird: you got used to his presence, his jokes, his beautiful, deep voice that you could have fallen asleep to. Sure, sometimes he was cocky, a bit rough around the edges but he was a great singer and a fun guy. The project seemed to work out well and you loved it a lot, so you hoped the listeners would appreciate it as well.

But before all that you had one photo shoot together for the promotional pictures and the single's cover. You were grateful for the simple pastel colour background and elegant setting. The warm light latte colour and the clock in the background really fit the song's vibe. Luckily, your dress was decent and pretty as well, you didn't have to feel uncomfortable in it at least.  However, you didn’t expect that happy yelp coming from one of the makeup artists stepping into the dressing room. You turned to face the girl, wondering whether she was your fan judged by her excitement.

"Oh my! I'm so happy to finally meet you! Seojun told us about you so much!" she beamed at you which obviously took you back. Well, that you didn’t expect at all. He spoke of you to others? Ah. Apparently to the makeup artist who was most probably that certain one of his best friends he had told you about?

"Don't exaggerate, Imju, I mentioned her like what… once?" Seojun walked in on cue. He rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, trying to avert the topic. "How's Suho?"

You had know idea who that said guy was but after a moment or two you could breathe properly once again while listening to their chatting.

“Just the usual. He’s excited about your duet.”

“Of course, he is,” Seojun grinned, a bit snarky but you could hear the proud undertones of it. When he looked at you, you were surprised by him leaning close though as he quieted down until only you could hear it. “Don’t worry, Jugyeong is really good and just stop her if she gets too gossip-y.”

“Are you talking about me behind my back, hah, Han Seojun?” The pretty girl called Jugyeong raised her fist as if she was about to hit the idol but he just laughed it off and left you two alone when he was hurried onto the set to start with his individual shoots.

“Have you known each other for a long time?” you couldn’t help but wonder as you were seated to get your makeup from her.

“Ah, almost 4 years, I think. We went to high school together. Plus, he’s best friends with my boyfriend. Though, they are always bickering like a married couple,” Jugyeong chuckled joyfully as she started with the cushion. You closed your eyes, listening as she kept going on about the time when Seojun had been obsessed with his motorbike, getting into trouble with his mother. It was strange hearing about a whole other side of him, mama's boy but the image tugged on your mouth, making you smile even though you weren't sure you had the right to know all that. You also learned that Seojun's sister was dating Jugyeong's brother and you felt so involved with the girl's trust albeit it was your last meeting, you were sure Seojun must have only told good things about you.

Hence, you felt shy under his knowing gaze when you walked out of the dressing room. He must have known that Jugyeong couldn't shut up for the life of her, so he looked a bit uncertain, too, stretching the back of his neck, forcing a cunning smile onto his smile when you took your place next to him.

To fit the ballad's theme, the setting was a piano decorated with flowers and you were instructed to sit beside him as if you were about to play a four hands piece. As you did what you had been told, you were very much aware of the way your arms brushed, his long fingers over the keys close to yours, his smile small but genuine.

"Great, great, guys! Someone help her onto the piano and Seojun, stand in front of her," the photographer directed the next scene but before any staff members would have rushed up to you, the singer next to you shushed them.

"I can do it," he insisted as he stood up and looked you in the eyes, silently asking for permission. You nodded while holding your breath back before Seojun put his hands on your waist above the fluffy tulle skirt part and counting on three, he lifted you onto the lid of the beautiful instrument.

You crossed your legs, watching in awe as your pink skirt fell down on waves  but your breath hitched for an entirely different reason when you looked up, gaze meeting Seojun's feline eyes trained on you. You had never seen him look at you like that, lacking playfulness or suspicion or curiosity. He looked open, vulnerable, outright starstruck. Your lips parted meaning to ask something but your brain shut off when you heard the shutter of the camera go down and the director yelling compliments at you. It made you snap out of it and later, you blamed the evident blush on your cheeks on the makeup. Seojun blinked too, his guarded expression back in no time, finishing the photo shoot professionally, always lingering close to you, but never touching you. Even though you wouldn’t have minded.

"Hey," Seojun peeked into your dressing room just as you were about to leave, packing up, with a smile on his mouth and sparkles in his deep brown eyes. But unlike half an hour ago when he wore a fancy suit and looked at you like a prince would have looked at his princess, he acted just as casual as he looked in his denim jacket over dark tee. "Wanna grab something with me if you finished for today?"

His question took you back but first thing first you glanced towards your manager, eyes begging for permission which you had gotten with a sigh.

"Just be discreet and call me if you need me to pick you up," your manager shrugged, leaving you two alone with a knowing look that told you to be careful. You didn't need to be told though, you knew how much depended on the current public response to your image.

"Seems like a green light. Have you thought of anything specific?" you turned back to the boy with a subtle smile.

"Not really but I know a few less frequent, secluded places to avoid much talk about us," he said and you nodded, following his lead. Masks, caps and hoodies on, you barely talk on your way to the tent with the lovely ahjumma who welcomed Seojun (two heads taller than her) with a pinch of his cheeks and told you to get seated.

"Are you a regular here?" you inquire, carefully pulling down your mask since not many people are around.

"You could say that," the boy hummed letting you adjust to the place at your own pace, not pressuring you with extra reassessments about how safe it is there. Yet, he is so casual as if he wasn't afraid of a getting mobbed by Dispatch out of the blue. Not that it happened to you a lot of times but you heard stories and at such a crucial time in your career, you feared something like that more than anything.

"Do you want to come up to mine instead?" Seojun blurted out suddenly which made you wide eyed in a span of a moment as you splattered out a surprised yelp. "Come on, I don't mean anything by it. You just look really nervous being in the public," the singer said, his deep voice softening, soothing by the end and you needed to take a breather before answering. You didn't think it was so obvious but apparently you had never been a good liar with him.

In the end, you decided on going over to Seojun's place, so he asked the ahjumma to pack your food to go and you headed towards his flat a few blocks from the company. It was a small but cozy place, much softer and brighter than you expected, lots of pastels and photos of friends and family. While the boy busied himself in the kitchen, getting you plates, chopsticks and beer, you were encouraged to look around and you couldn't help but smile at his photos with not only his band members but high school friends, too. You had seen photos of his graduation with Jugyeong, then another one of his debut with her and another guy.  He was a recurring person on a lot of pictures, so you assumed that he was the so-called Suho.

"He's Jugyeong's boyfriend," Seojun affirmed as he walked up to you which you acknowledged with a hum and smiled at his photos with his sister and mother. The makeup artist was right when she said he was only tough on the outside.

"You knew Seyeon?" you whispered as your gaze shifted of a picture of three boys smiling widely into the camera. The middle one was the talented boy you had known  from the news of his committed suicide. Such a tragedy.

"Uhum. We were best friends. Him, Suho and me," Seojun nodded and without having to ask, he told you how they had gotten to know each other, what were their favourite past time activities and how they fell apart when he died. You could see he was hurting even now as he was talking about it, so you grazed your fingers against his knuckles as though to say you were there for him to listen, or whatever he needed.

Talking about his best friends and how a group of guys including someone named Chorong stuck by his side over the years warmed your heart. It was nice to know that not everyone had it as lonely as you who basically missed out on high school and memories from that time to be able to turn your dreams into reality. Your only friends were also in the industry but it made things both easier and harder.

"What about you? What did you mean by this being your last chance?" Seojun asked like a loaded gun but after everything he had just told you, you knew you could trust him with this and being in the industry for a while now, he must have understood, too.

You told him about the rising expectations, about your image and your company's ultimatum. It actually felt nice to talk about with someone other than your manager. Especially since Seojun seemed to understand exactly why you felt conflicted over the matter. You have given your youth to this dream of yours, so giving up on it would have felt like betraying yourself and everyone who believed in you but you weren't sure you could give it another 10 years of your life no matter how much you liked music. You had decent CSATs result, maybe you could have applied for a university program. Seojun even offered to arrange a meeting between you and Suho who was studying to become a proper songwriter.

You talked for hours and ate the tteokbokki even though it had gotten cold long ago and you couldn't remember when was the last time you had felt so light. You felt giddy even with just the tiny bit of alcohol in your system by the time you knew it was time for you to go.

Once you had felt relieved knowing that promoting your duet would be only one performance but recently, you started dreading the moment because that meant that you wouldn't have any more excuse to see Seojun. In the backstage, this time around you greeted Jugyeong like an old friend and teased to give Seojun a funny makeup before walking up to your  own assigned staff members. Your look was full of sparkles and glow fitting the silver colour of your dress, completing the ethereal vibe off the stage you were going to do and the beautiful song you had grown to love so much you held it close to your heart. The last rehearsals went smoothly and if you noticed Seojun's gaze lingering a bit too long, you didn't comment on it.

"Are you nervous?" he asked before the final recording and you knew it would have been unreasonable to deny it, so you replied with a small smile.

"A bit."

"Don't be. You're pretty and you'll do amazing," he reassured you and the way he said those words oh so easy. As if they were natural. As if he believed in you and maybe this was all the reassurance you needed because when you walked up onto the stage, not taking your eyes off his, it felt like it was just the two of you there. All the stress about not being good enough, about being judged for who you were and what you wanted to do with your life was subsided as you focused on the moment, just to sing this one song with one while trying to fight your heart's crazy beating.

You didn't really have the luxury to have crushes. You had always been concentrated on your work, you couldn't let yourself have distractions, especially since love scandals always affected girl worse than guy. At least that was what you told yourself for always putting up a wall around you and guarding your heart all too well. But during the past few weeks, between playful or flirty remarks, between smiles and ruffling hair, Seojun took apart your wall brick by brick even if he wasn't aware.

So it might have been only a few days since you had last seen him but in that rare moment of boredom, alone in your room, you realized that you missed him. Hell, you liked him and the feeling made me want to scream into your pillow as if you were a silly teenager. As if on cue, your phone buzzed with a new message and seeing the KakaoTalk ID made you shy.

duet partner, han seo jun

so...

i've been thinking

you

sounds dangerous but ok

duet partner, han seo jun

don't get sassy with me, miss

you

what have you been thinking about?

duet partner, han seo jun

that i don't want to miss my chance

there's this girl i like

i thought of asking her out

do you think she would say yes?

you

oh. well... why wouldn't she?

i mean, you are talented, handsome, funny and reliable

duet partner, han seo jun

and what about my job? it's busy and a bit crazy

don't you think it would be unfair of me to ask?

you

I think you should let her decide that

duet partner, han seo jun

okay

are you free on friday?

you

um, sure?

duet partner, han seo jun

cool, then go on a date with me?

[outercrasis]

Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: None (let me know if I missed something!)

Summary: Everyone is talking about the mysterious new guy on campus

A/N: I had a ton of fun writing this extremely self-indulgent AU and I have plans to keep writing more about these two. It won’t be an actual chaptered fic, but at some point I’ll throw together a masterlist with a chronological order to things.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Introductions

The semester had only started four weeks ago and he was already a legend around campus. Almost everywhere someone could be found whispering about him. You'd even heard faculty speculating, wondering about the rumors they overheard their students sharing.

You first heard of him in your literature seminar, some of your fellow classmates discussing a recent rumor about the now fabled man. Something about a motorcycle and a child caught your ear, prompting you to interrupt and the girls in front of you who they were talking about. 

The looks you received from the pair were incredulous at best. “You mean you haven’t heard about him?”

“Heard about who?” you asked, genuinely confused. It had only been the first week of class at the time and you were too caught up with your own busy start to check in on the rumor mill.

“Mando, obviously. He’s all anyone is talking about.” From there the girls had happily filled you in on all the latest sightings and rumors. 

Mando, as they called him, was shrouded in mystery. He'd popped up on Corellia University's campus when the semester began and no one knew a thing about him. He hadn't gone to Corellia before, internet searches turned up nothing, and even the skull-like symbol on the back of his leather jacket wasn't familiar to anyone. Any information on him was conjecture at best and there was plenty to go around. Once the rest of the class caught onto what you three were discussing, theories began to fly.

People discussed how he’d been spotted downtown, beating on some guys in a back alley. He’d also been seen uptown the same night though, strolling through Basalt Park. One girl was nearly certain that she’d gone to elementary school with Mando, but he’d mysteriously disappeared one day without explanation. Someone else was confident he was just a cop trying some weird shtick to go undercover. Then one person insisted he had a kid with him sometimes while another was trying to explain that he was actually a murderer. The rumors only became more ludicrous from there.

By the end of the discussion you only ascertained two things for certain. He went by the name Mando and he wore some kind of special helmet. Information you could have gotten by watching him pick up a drink at the Java Hut. Not nearly enough to warrant this level of fervor in your opinion.

From there, hearing about Mando was inescapable. You got home that night only to have your roommate and best friend, Layla, launch into theories about him. Within the week someone set up a social media page to try and track his location around campus via DMs fellow students sent in. That had struck you as invasive and unsettling, but the messages about him kept flooding in.

By pure chance, you had yet to actually see him for yourself. There weren't even any creep shots for you to look at. People had been trying to take photos of him, but he was like a ghost. In the time it took them to pull up their cameras he'd disappear. 

There wasn't even more concrete information about him beyond what you'd learned that first day. Just more and more speculation, a good amount of it made up purely for the shock factor. Another week slipped by, the semester picking up, and Mando news became standard in your day. There was always something new going around about him and as much as you tried to avoid it and focus on your studies, you couldn’t help but wonder about him yourself.

Who was this guy? Was this all some stunt or ‘social experiment’ that would be revealed by a sociology student at the end of the semester? Or was he a legitimate peculiarity, doomed to stick out like a sore thumb? You weren’t sure if you should hate him for making a big deal out of himself or pity him for all the unwarranted attention. Either way, you were sure that whenever you met this enigmatic Mando, you’d know.

×××××

You grumble looking at the submission form. The name and student ID information is blank again. You told Todd last week those fields needed to be made mandatory. How else were you supposed to know who to email when you end up with a no-show for the hour?

Looking further down you're pleased to note that they're at least a grad student. Despite the unfinished form, graduates almost never skip sessions like these. You're thrilled to have the opportunity to discuss something other than freshman composition for once. It's fun helping the wide-eyed freshies, but you can only go over basic comma rules so many times before you start to lose it a little.

There's a knock at the study room door and you look up only to be rendered speechless. It's him. Mando. With a kid on his hip. So Alissandra hadn’t been lying when she told you about the toddler she saw with him. Interesting. Continuing to take him in, you can’t help but focus on the obvious - the only thing you knew about him other than his supposed name, the helmet. 

It’s unlike anything you've seen before. You're fairly certain it's a motorcycle helmet, but it's been modified. Rather than the typical rounded shape, his is all sharp angles and flat at the front. It’s colored a sleek, shining chrome that gleams under the washed out fluorescent lighting. Most arresting is the way he's changed the face of the helmet. The cheeks dip inward at a sharp angle, creating deep, curved contours. His visor is a T of black glass in the center, entirely impossible to see through. It's intimidating and… kinda hot?

The little boy he's holding starts to wiggle in his grasp, physically demanding to be set down in the study room. Once his feet touch the floor, he immediately runs over and climbs into the chair next to you. He's a welcome distraction from his father’s? brother's? guardian's? commanding presence in the room.

The boy can't be older than three, smiling up at you with a wide toothy grin. His hair is covered by a green beanie with large floppy ears sewn onto it and he's wearing a little brown jacket with a sherpa collar. Maybe a bit too heavy for the early autumnal weather, but if the rumor that the kid rides on a motorcycle with Mando is true, it’s perfect. His eyes are large and brown, shining up at you with a slightly mischievous glint.

"Hello, what's your name?" you ask, smiling back at the child.

"Grogu," comes the reply, not from the kid, but from Mando.

You arch an eyebrow at him. He can't be serious with that name. "Grogu?" you ask.

He shrugs, placing his bag on the table. "I came home one day and he told his babysitter that was his name now. He won't respond to anything else. So, Grogu."

You look back to the bouncing toddler. He's still grinning, nodding along with what's been said about his name. They must not be lying then. Either that, or it was some elaborate prank between them and you would never be in on the joke. 

"Well okay, Grogu it is." 

You extend your hand out to Mando, offering your name alongside it. He offers a leather clad hand in return, giving you a firm handshake. You're pleased when he only gives your hand a gentle squeeze, not crushing it like so many other students have done. His gloves are unique as well, black with orange fingers, the leather well worn in. It's warm to the touch, his body heat radiating through the thick fabric. 

"Mando," he says, officially introducing himself as he takes the seat on your other side, across from Grogu.

"Mando," you repeat, cementing it as a truth from the rumor mill. "Got any other names?" You hope that comes across as casual and not intrusive. He hasn't even gone to remove his helmet, telling you he isn't a man who cares much for people prying into his business.

"No. Why?" Mando cocks his head slightly as he asks, the helmet adding an exaggerated look to the movement. He reaches into his bag, pulls out some crayons and a pad of paper, pushing them over to Grogu.

You shrug, trying not to think about how you heard his name might be David from someone in your composition course. "Just thought I'd ask. One hears many things around campus and it's hard to tell what's true or not."

"What do you mean?"

That question makes you pause. Surely he knows. Part of you is still convinced he’s doing this act on purpose, trying to gain notoriety for some reason. The way he asked though, something about it tells you that the poor man is clueless about the buzz he's caused.

"Mando, you're like the talk of the town right now. We only just met but I've heard plenty about you," you explain. It's hard to tell with the helmet on, but you're fairly sure he's shocked underneath. Grogu ignores you both, excitedly scribbling away on his paper.

"I'm fairly sure most of it's just rumor and speculation, but still. You're like a thing around campus," you add.

He's quiet for a moment, his laptop only half out of his bag. "Oh," he finally says. "I didn't know."

Grogu gives a happy shriek not a second later, breaking the awkward tension that had begun to creep into the room. He's beaming, holding up his crayola masterpiece. On the paper there is what appears to be a hastily drawn frog using every color in the box.

Mando returns to himself, pulling his laptop the rest of the way and continues to get set up. "Great job, kid. It looks good."

Most people would have said that dismissively, a platitude to get their child to stop bothering them. When Mando says it though, the authenticity is palpable. He said six words and you can hear the pride lacing them all together. It’s sweet, the obvious affection this clearly private man has for the toddler. 

You can’t help but wonder what his connection to Grogu actually is. The way he spoke just then, if you had to put your money on it, you’d say father. The kicker then though is if he’s biological or not. And if not, then how else does a grad student get strapped with a three year old? Thinking about all the potential scenarios is enough to make your head hurt.

You’re also left wondering where all the more violent rumors about him are coming from. His tenderness is so readily on display that it’s hard to imagine the man before you choking someone because they cut him in line at the local froyo shop. He’s mysterious and gives off a vaguely dangerous vibe, sure, but less than five minutes around him and the kid and it’s obvious he’s no threat to you. He’s just a guy trying to get his assignments done for class, same as everyone else.

Your stomach still catches in your throat as Mando starts unexpectedly tugging off his gloves. From what you’d heard, he never takes anything off: not his jacket, not his gloves, and certainly not his helmet. All anyone knows of his true appearance on campus is that he’s obviously male with rumors flying around about everything else including simple attributes, like the color of his skin. Now, here he is, casually revealing this groundbreaking information to you.

His hands move fluidly, pulling off each glove in just a few easy tugs. His skin matches the heat you felt from them just minutes ago, a warm golden tan, with a few faded lines of scars worn in. Watching him type, pulling his paper up for you to discuss, you feel a deep and sudden ache to have his hands touch you again. A simple handshake is no longer enough. Every stroke of the keys is measured, deliberate, and leaves you wondering how he would use those fingers on you.

“This is what I have so far.”

His voice snaps you back to reality, a quick wave of shame washing over you. Where did all of that come from? It was just a man’s hands for heaven’s sake, certainly not something you should be horny about at two in the afternoon. Not to mention that he came in here looking for your help, not wanting you to start fantasizing about his hands expertly working you over.

You clear your throat and tear your eyes away from the offending appendages. “Great, let me just read the introduction here so I can get an idea for what you’re writing about.”

You settle into working with him easily. His paper is already well-written, just needing tweaks here and there to bring it to the next level. It’s nice working with him. He’s attentive, clearly listening to everything you have to say and taking it into account. He doesn’t even try to challenge you as some of the more macho male students are wont to do. By the end of the session, you can’t help but wish all of your time as a tutor was that easy.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, tucking his laptop away. “You really helped.”

You smile at him, thrilled with his genuine complement. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for.”

He finishes packing up his and Grogu’s things, with you silently lamenting as his gloves slide back on. It still feels like a ridiculous thought, but he really does have beautiful hands. There’s a small tap on your arm and you look to your left to see Grogu patiently waiting. He’s offering something to you, paper outstretched in his little hands.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the sheet from him. You look at it to see a frog carefully drawn on the page. It’s not the same as the first one he showed you and Mando, this one more deliberate and thoughtful. The colors are still just as varied, but it’s obvious he took more time to think about where he was using each one. You can’t help but smile at his small masterpiece.

“It looks great, buddy. I’ll keep it forever,” you tell him. Grogu beams at your praise, excitedly looking over to Mando. 

Mando nods at the kid. “Yeah kid, I heard her too.” He turns his head towards you. “Thank you again. I’d take good care of that drawing. He’ll never forgive you if he finds out you got rid of it.”

“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you again?” Your own boldness takes you by surprise. You have no idea where that came from, how those words spilled without a second thought. Part of you is already cringing at Mando’s potential reaction.

He surprises you once again though, holding a hand out for Grogu to take. Shouldering his backpack, you hear an amused huff of air from under the helmet. “Yeah, mesh’la, I’ll see you around.”

There isn’t a chance to reply as Mando turns, escorting his tiny charge out of the room with him. You’re a little dumbstruck, now equally surprised with him as you had been with yourself. 

And what was that name he just called you? Mesh’la? You don’t even know what language that could have been, much less the meaning. Something about his tone when he said it tells you it’s a good thing though, that he’s not secretly calling you rude names in some unknown language. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever get to find out.

.

.

.

taglist: @honestly-shite

[laurenairay]

What Love Feels Like - S. Crosby

Summary: your boyfriend Sidney, the surprise romantic?

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: established relationship fluff, cheesy romance, essentially a 4+1

A/N: I’ve been in an absolute writing rut since before Christmas, so I just want to thank @danglesnipecelly​ for reminding me how much I love soft sexy sid 😘 also, how have I never written for him before?!

~

No-one ever said dating Sidney Crosby was going to be easy.

They also didn’t say how much of a romantic he was either.

It was like at every turn, he had a new way to make your heart beat a little faster, to make you face heat up warm, to make your stomach fill with butterflies. Whether it was buying your favourite sweet treats as a pick me up, or the kisses that would leave you breathless in passing, or even the way his tongue flicked at your bare body just right, Sidney always kept you on your toes.

But it was his words that affected you the most.

You hadn’t expected much verbal affection from him at the beginning of your relationship, the rumours of his hockey robot status the main thing you knew about him – but you were quickly proved wrong. Maybe it was the media training that kept him so hockey-bland in interviews, because the minute he wasn’t in hockey mode, he immediately turned sweet, suave and so sexy. And it wasn’t just flirting talk, to prelude to sex (although the first time he murmured all the things he wanted to do with you after the team event you were at, you almost lost your mind then and there) – it was the sweet loving statements that sent your heart pounding.

How could you ever have known about his way with words?

*

Today had been a stressful one. Work had been full-on without any warning, and you were just about done with people. You’d even hesitated when Sidney offered to cook you dinner at his house – but eventually the temptation of being pampered by your boyfriend had been too good to resist. Maybe he’d be able to turn your day around. It couldn’t hurt to try, right?

And as you suspected, Sidney had taken one look at the exhaustion on your face and ushered you to the sofa, only disappearing to come back with a large glass of wine for you.

“You are an absolute gem,” you groaned, tilting your head back to look up at him.

He just grinned, taking the silent cue for what it was and leaning down to kiss you gently. Yes, this was just what you needed.

And the evening had only gotten better from there. Sidney had made the two of you a simple but delicious coq au vin dinner (the recipe definitely came from Vero Fleury, and you knew that you would definitely need to text her your thanks later), followed by a chocolate tart that you swore was the best thing you’d ever tasted (that one was from a local bakery, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time you’d get something from there now!). And all throughout the evening, Sidney had kept the conversation flowing, telling you hilarious stories of grumpy Geno and naïve rookies from the recent road trip he’d had, as well as about the cute dog that his neighbour had recently adopted, and you felt yourself relaxing more with each passing moment.

Sidney had indeed turned your day around just like you’d hoped.

After eating, Sidney had insisted on clearing the plates by himself, making you roll your eyes fondly but accept a gentle kiss as he walked past. You could at least get the two of you a fresh glass of wine each. You were tired, not incapable. So with that in mind, you picked up the two empty wine glasses and followed your boyfriend into the kitchen, opening the fridge to pick out the open bottle of white wine he’d opened earlier.

But just as you finished filling the glasses, you felt a pair of arms slide around you from behind, making you jump slightly, earning a soft laugh.

“Menace,” you complained fondly, putting the wine bottle down on the side.

“Couldn’t help myself, I needed you in my arms,” Sidney said simply, squeezing you in a little hug.

You leant back into his chest, smiling to yourself. How could you say no to that? The two of you stayed silent for a few more moments, just enjoying the comfort of this embrace, until Sidney sighed softly.

“You make me want things I didn’t think I could have,” Sidney murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

What the hell?

You spun around in his arms straight away, the frown on your face making Sidney laugh softly.

“What things? And who says you can’t have them?” you demanded.

“Always so protective,” he mused.

You batted at his chest, rolling your eyes. “I’m serious Sid! What do you mean, things you can’t have?”

He bit his bottom lip, making your frustration soften a little. This was something he’d really thought about, wasn’t it?

“I just…I never expected to find someone while I was still playing hockey,” Sidney started.

What the hell? He was just going to wait, until he eventually retired? What?! But as you opened your mouth to protest, Sidney pressed a finger to your lips, a fond smile on his.

“No, I know what I’m like. My routines are so set in stone, I’m away so often, I have so many more responsibilities as Captain and well, just because I’m me. I was told from a young age that anything other than hockey was a distraction. So I just…shelved the idea. Didn’t even let myself hope,” Sidney explained.

“Sid…that’s so sad,” you said softly, clutching at his sweater with both hands, “to just resign yourself to being lonely, I can’t…”

“Hey, it’s okay. I can’t say it hasn’t paid off with hockey,” he mused, “and besides…I met you, didn’t I?”

You bit your lip, your face heating up warm, Sidney’s hand rising to run a knowing thumb over your cheek.

“So I wasn’t a distraction?” you asked hopefully.

“Oh, you absolutely were,” Sidney said, laughing softly, making your heart sink a little. He saw your hesitant expression, and shook his head. “It was a distraction that I didn’t know I needed. You help me break out of my intensity, to separate the rink from home. Without you, I would just eat, breathe, sleep hockey, and meeting you made me realise that I can have hockey and love. You give me a reason to live, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that,”

You couldn’t stop the tears that sprung to your eyes, nor the smile that spread across your lips. “Sidney…” you murmured helplessly.

“Thank you. For making me whole. For making me a better person,” he said seriously, hand still cupping your face so you couldn’t do anything but look into his eyes.

Your heart clenched at his words, and there was nothing you could think of to say that needed to be added. So you just lifted your head and pressed your lips to his in a kiss that said everything.

*

A good run of games, with far more wins than losses, always put your boyfriend in a good mood. So good, that after the latest game, which was another win where he’d gotten 2 goals and 1 assist, he’d even suggested going out for drinks. You were more than happy to agree – not that you didn’t love your evenings in with him, but sometimes it was nice to go out and try something new, y’know? These plans quickly turned into a couples’ drinks with Kris and Catherine, and Geno and Anna, and the six of you ended up in a private booth in a fancy cocktail bar.

You’d immediately ordered some lethal manhattan cocktails with Anna and Cath, leaving the guys to their own devices as the three of you toasted to the success of the men in your lives. As you surveyed the bar around you, you felt yourself relax a little. This was exactly you needed, with exactly these people. These two women had welcomed you so quickly into the Better Halves group, and you couldn’t be more excited to spend time with just them. Well, them and your rapidly tipsy partners. 

It had only taken the three men a couple of hours to be giggling messes. 

Kris, the troublemaker that he was, had indulged Sidney’s sweet tooth with so many sugary cocktails, that he was already pretty far gone, eyes glassy and skin flushed. Sure, he was going to feel it tomorrow morning, but the fact that he actually got the chance to let go, to just relax with his just closest friends? That was the most important thing.

How often did Sidney get the chance to do that?

The six of you were still in the booth, Geno having just come back with a fresh round of cocktails, and Sidney was started to lean against you a little heavier, making you frown slightly.

“Hey, are you good?” you asked softly.

Sidney leaned back to look at you properly, hair a little ruffled and his top two buttons undone, distracting you slightly.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen…and I’ve held the Stanley Cup three times,” Sidney slurred, his lips stretched in that beautiful crooked grin.

Kris, Cath, Geno and Anna all just burst into laughter, making you laugh too.

“I’m serious! The cup is so beautiful…but you, you are the most,” Sidney said firmly.

“He’s serious,” Kris snickered, “crisse Sid, what a romantic,”

The sarcasm just made Sidney pout. Bless him.

“Okay I think it’s time for some water,” you giggled.

“Oh no please, let him carry on. It’s been so long since drunk Sid made an appearance,” Kris grinned.

“Drunk Sid is most fun!” Geno added, nodding enthusiastically.

You looked back at your boyfriend to see him still smiling at you like the sun, and you couldn’t stop the butterflies erupting in your stomach. How were you supposed to react, when he looked at you so brilliantly? You didn’t have to look at Cath or Anna to know that they were smiling fondly at you – you’d had enough wine nights with them to know how sweet they thought Sidney was with you.

“He may be fun now, but he’s going to be an absolute grump tomorrow and you know it,” you mused, shaking your head.

“Won’t be grumpy,” Sidney insisted.

Oh jeez. “Yes you will,” you teased, “But you’re cute, so I’ll let it slide,”

“You think I’m cute?” Sidney said happily, before looking at his teammates, “she think I’m cute!”

That just sent Kris and Geno into fits of laughter again, making you sigh fondly. Oh he was definitely going to feel this tomorrow.

Worth it though.

*

The summer brought you back to Nova Scotia with Sidney. Well, you’d taken two weeks off work in August to be able to spend Sidney’s birthday with him, but you were so glad you did. Spending some proper time with his parents and with Taylor was so worth it, and you didn’t miss the little smiles he sent your way when he thought you weren’t looking – Sidney loved you being home with him just as much as you loved it.

The best part though, was definitely waking up to that sleepy morning sunlight, the lake only a stone’s throw away, Sidney warm and content and at peace. 

“Mm happy birthday Sid,” you murmured sleepily, curling further into his body.

“Shh, if my body doesn’t know that I’m getting older then I won’t get any more grey hairs,” Sidney groaned, not opening his eyes.

You just giggled, running a hand over his bare chest. What a drama queen.

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that, baby,” you teased, “you know I like your grey hair, the little grey of it that there is,”

What? You did!

Sidney lifted his head to look down at you incredulously. Of course that was what made him wake up properly.

“You like it?” he frowned.

“It makes you look…distinguished. It’s…sexy,” you shrugged. There was no reason to lie to him after all.

“Sexy?” he laughed, rolling his eyes.

Oh now that wouldn’t do. You slotted your leg between his thighs, moving to hover him slightly where he was lying on his back, waiting until he was looking at you properly. He swallowed heavily at the seriousness in your expression. Good.

“Yeah, Sid. It’s sexy,” you said softly, “you’re sexy. Clearly I need to tell you that more often,”

Sidney’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, his eyes never leaving yours as he processed your words.

“If I’m so sexy, then why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

The desire in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but to grin. You leant your head down to kiss him softly, leaning up on your elbow for a better angle. Sidney groaned softly at the sweet kiss, one hand sliding into your hair with the other resting on your waist. You kept the kiss slow, gentle, intense, with only light brushes of your tongue, taking your time to enjoy yourself. You loved early mornings like this, when it was just the two of you with nothing to do for hours, and today you had nowhere to be until well into the afternoon, so you were going to indulge yourself with these kisses while you could.

Eventually you broke away, lips feeling as swollen as Sidney’s looked. Wow.

“Is that better?” you mused, stroking the hair at his template.

“Hmm, I don’t know. That’s all I get?” he murmured, “on my birthday?”

Tease. You licked your bottom lip, Sidney’s eyes flashing darker, and you rolled off of him, tugging your sleep-top over your head and lying down sultrily on your back. Sidney’s eyes immediately fell to your bare chest, yours flicking down to the hard line of his cock in his boxers, before you grinned.

“Get over here birthday boy…” you purred.

Sidney didn’t waste another second.

*

Sometimes things weren’t perfect. Sometimes Sidney had a string of bad games where he got too much into his own head. Sometimes he wouldn’t communicate in any more than a couple of words or grunts. Sometimes you had to prioritise a work deadline over time with him. Sometimes things between the two of you were extremely tense until one (or most often, both) of you cracked and talked it out.

But that’s what made your relationship work – the talking. Being with Sidney meant being in such a mature adult relationship, and it was refreshing to be able to work through things with a guy that wasn’t just going to fly off the handle or sulk around. Sure, Sidney had his faults, but he always tried not to take his frustrations out on you. You knew that the highs of dating a hockey superstar came with the lows too – you knew that when you agreed to go on that very first date way back when, but he’d proved time and time again that he was worth it. He was always worth it.

Right now, Sidney…no, the Penguins had been on a bad luck streak, and you could see the pressure piling up on your boyfriend, from management, from the press, from the fans, from himself. But not from you. There was no way you were going to add to his stress, not when he needed your support more than anything.

And you knew he appreciated more than anything else.

Like today, for example.

Sidney had turned up at your apartment a couple of hours earlier than you thought, having come straight from the airport rather than going to his house first, just looking bone-tired. So you’d immediately drawn him a bath with your favourite lavender-vanilla bath bubbles, Sidney insisting that you join him too.

Well, you weren’t going to deny him that.

So that’s where the two of you were now, you lying between Sidney’s legs, your back leaning against his chest, your hands clutching at his forearms where his arms were wrapped around you.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

You just smiled softly, tilting your head back to press a kiss to his jaw before leaning into him again.

“I’m just sorry we’re doing this in my shitty apartment rather than your lovely bathroom,” you shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter whether we’re at your place or mine. You’ve always felt like home,” Sidney murmured.

Oh god, if your heart could be any more full it would be. Wow.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you said softly, not wanting to break the moment, “I’ll always be here for you,”

Sidney smiled into your neck, pressing the lightest of kisses into your skin, making you shiver despite the temperate of the water.

“I mean it, you are my home and I couldn’t be more grateful. You’ve shown me what love feels like, sweetheart,” Sidney murmured, “I love you,”

You tried desperately to blink away the tears that sprung to your eyes, squeezing his hands. “I love you too Sid. So much,” you whispered.

As his arms held you a little tighter and he buried his face in your neck a little more, you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be.

*

Another morning, another day waking up in Sidney’s arms. No matter how many roadtrips he went on, countless by the point, it still felt weird sleeping in your own bed without him. Your apartment felt cold, felt empty, despite it holding all your possessions, but you knew that was just because it didn’t have him in it. When he was home in Pittsburgh, whether it was in your apartment or at his house, you had never slept better than when you were with him. You could only hope he felt the same.

“Good morning,” Sidney said softly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Good morning,” you replied, smiling up at him.

He smiled back, leaning over to press a few gentle kisses to your lips before leaning back.

“That was a real serious face you had a moment ago,” Sidney said, lying on his side with his head propped up with his hand.

Busted. “I was just thinking,” you shrugged.

“What are you thinking about?” he mused.

“Nothing much. Just…”

You trailed off, biting your bottom lip. Sidney’s hand slid to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your trapped lip until you let it free.

“Just…” he prompted.

“I could get used to waking up beside you,” you blurted,

Sidney’s face looked a little stunned. Damn it. Was that too much?

But then his face shifted into the biggest smile you’d ever seen, making your hopeful heart beat a little faster.

“Why don’t we make that a reality?”

W-What?

Sidney saw the confusion in your expression and hesitated, before turning and reaching into the bedside drawer beside him. He paused slightly, as he grabbed whatever it was, making your heart beat a little faster. What was going on? But after a couple of beats, he rolled back over to face you, hand clenched in a fist.

“Move in with me?” he murmured.

He opened his fist, revealing a shiny key, making your jaw drop a little. Oh wow.

“For real?” you whispered, eyes not moving from the key.

“Yeah, for real,” Sidney mused, although you could hear the strain of nerves in his voice, “I would really love for this to be your home too. You already have a ton of your clothes here as well as make-up and your shower stuff…so why don’t we make this full time?”

You choked out a laugh – he did have a point there.

But was it too soon?

No.

“If it makes a difference, I’ve wanted to ask you for months,” Sidney admitted.

“You have?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You’re it for me,” he said simply.

He really did have such a way with words.

“I would love to, Sid,” you said softly.

“Yeah?” he grinned,

“Yeah. I want to build this life with you. So let’s do this,” you nodded.

Sidney whooped, making you giggle, and he dropped the key into the bedsheets in favour of pressing a deep kiss to your lips. Yeah, you could get used to this.

[cronchevans]

Sweet daddy Curtis, having a shit life in the tail end, either he takes you from the front somehow, maybe during the revolt, or maybe during a failed revolt, but he gets you to himself. No one in the front gave two shits about you, but he does, you never fear him, he's always insane sweet and soft to you, gives you attention like no one ever has, he's soft with you and only you, is insane protective of you and will kill for you if need be. You're his soft baby and he loves you more then anything

i’m trying to get back into writing, so @autumnrose40 was kind enough to give me a starter prompt. i’ll make another post elaborating on what i wanna write and y’all can feel free to send prompts or asks based on that! anyway, here’s a snowpiercer au because we felt like curtis would be such a soft daddy after everything he’s been through. sorry if there’s mistakes.

-

when you heard the rumble coming from the back of the train, you knew the revolt was upon you. everyone else seemed blissfully unaware as they drank and indulged, but you could feel the vibrations, hear the gunshots. you couldn’t understand why they wanted to get to the front so badly, it’s not like life was perfect here. you’d been taken as a pet, kept chained and silenced for the amusement of the front passengers. you were fed scraps in a bowl and infantilized, wearing nothing more than a skimpy piece of silk and a diaper, for when you inevitably couldn’t hold it anymore. the people in the front spoke down to you, mocking and sneering, as they pulled your hair and called you a baby when you cried. you couldn’t even speak in full sentences anymore and no one cared. you weren’t there to talk, you were there for pleasure and to look pretty.

as the rumbling came closer, the others did start to take notice then. all around you people were fleeing to the next car, hoping the onslaught would stop here. you lowered your head and cowered against the wall, whimpering and tugging on your chain lightly, hoping someone would take pity on you. but no one did. you were a decoration, not a living, breathing thing. you curled in further on yourself and hoped it would be over soon, hoped that the people from the back would show you a merciful end to this tiresome life. 

the door burst open and you yelped with fear. at first, all you could see was smoke and silhouettes. then, out of the chaos emerged a tall, dark figure, blood spattered and wearing a terrifying grimace. you watched with interest first as he scanned the room, his presence filling the space. you blinked at him wit wide eyed curiosity until his steel blue eyes met yours from across the room, and suddenly you were scared all over again. with another small whimper, you curled into the fetal position on the cold metal floor and shut your eyes tightly. you could hear his boots stomp heavily towards you, feel the vibrations running up your spine. silently, you prayed over and over for a painless release from this suffering. you were so frantic that you hardly heard the words spoken above you.

“hey, little one,” a deep voice rumbled. you didn’t dare look. “it’s alright now, we’re not gonna hurt you…”

a hand reached out, gently brushing against your bare skin, and you cried out as if you’d been burned. quickly, the hand recoiled and you dared to open your eyes to find the same pair of piercing blue eyes looking down at you, not steeled like they were before, but soft and kind.

“it’s okay,” the man repeated again, holding out his hands in a placating gesture, as though trying to calm a spooked animal. you shook your head, eyes wide with fear as you tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go. you were trapped between the traitorss from the back and the unforgiving wall behind.

you opened your mouth, to say what exactly, you were unsure, but words had been taken from you a long time ago. instead you fussed and whimpered, balling your hands up in little fists and waving them anxiously in front of you, not to defend yourself, but in a desperate attempt to communicate. the man’s eyes softened further and he cooed lowly at you.

“they just left you here, all alone little one?” he asked and he sounded so sad as he looked up towards his other companions. you weren’t used to being spoken to directly, but knew damn well the consequences if you didn’t answer. frightfully, you nodded and made a small affirming sound. the man sighed, sounding angry this time, which made you cry out and curl into yourself tighter. immediately, his expression softened as he hushed you gently, saying, “no, no honey, don’t be afraid. i’m not mad at you. i’m mad at the people who left you like this, you poor little thing. you can’t even take care of yourself, can you?”

you made another small, sad noise and blinked away your tears rapidly; they didn’t like it when you cried. the man huffed and stood up fully and you though to yourself, this is it, this is how it ends. you shut your eyes for the inevitable blow, perhaps the one that would knock you out for good. you tried not to be afraid in your last moments, but you’d spent so much time scared and alone, you didn’t know how to be anything else anymore. you waited and waited, but still nothing happened. until suddenly, you felt a sharp tug and heard a loud clang. the chain keeping you attached to the wall loosened and clattered to the floor, freeing you for the first time in years. your eyes shot open and you blinked up at the man in confusion. he knelt back down to be closer to eye level with you as he spoke in low, gentle tones.

“i’m curtis,” he said, gesturing to himself. you peeked up at him and a pang in your heart made you wish you remembered your own name. he smiled just barely, so you mirrored his gesture. this only made the smile grow wider, more fond. “can i touch you, little one?”

that was an odd question, you can’t recall the last time someone had asked to touch you, never mind looked at you with such tenderness. you wanted to cling to him, to make him smile more, to make him happy. shyly, you nodded, and the man - curtis - wrapped a large hand around your little waist and pulled you in against his warm, solid chest.

“there you are, honey,” he cooed as he stroked your back and nuzzled your hair. “daddy’s got you.” you all but melted into his embrace, making happy baby noises and gripping his blood stained jacket tighter.

curtis shifted you in his arms, and for a fear filled moment, you were afraid he was going to toss you away because you’d done the wrong thing. but instead, he picked you up and held you tightly to his chest, your legs nearly atrophied from being unable to stand on your own free will. he looked down at you and his eyes were so soft, your breathing hitched and you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your face. you hiccuped and sobbed your way through it, curtis holding you and whispering reassurances.

“don’t cry, little one, please don’t cry. daddy’s here.”

you cried for what seemed like hours until you slowly calmed down and what were heaving sobs turned into little breaths and whimpers. curtis rocked you through it, humming lightly under his breath. you whined to get his attention, knocking your little fists into his chest. he smiled down at you warmly as he said, “all better now, little one?” shyly, you nodded yes, before hiding your face in his shirt. you liked the way it felt when he breathed, his solid chest a comfort beneath you. “you’re gonna come with us now, okay?” your eyes flashed up in fear, but curtis hushed you gently, cupping your little face with his big hand. “don’t fuss, baby. daddy will always take care of you and keep you safe, i promise.”

still gripped with fear, but for the first time in ages, words tumbled past your lips, barely even a whisper. “y-you…you is my dada now…?” you blinked up at him and waited with bated breath. “keep safies?”

curtis beamed, and you thought that a smile like that could light up even the darkest corners of this cold, decrepit earth. “yes, baby,” he said before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “i’m your daddy now.”

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugo Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 16:

Another day, another round of assignments that made you want to tear your hair out. You’d made virtually no progress on your project- seeming to find nothing but Dynamight smear pieces no matter where you looked. 

You felt a little hopeless and frustrated, but that was alright- you knew the perfect pick-me-up. 

You frowned. That wasn’t an answer you wanted to hear, but you figured you should’ve have been that surprised. 

It you’d learned anything about him over past two weeks, it was that you were expected to live in Bakugou’s world and it was his way or not at all. 

You rolled your eyes in minor frustration, but answered him anyway.

You huffed, your annoyance growing. 

You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t tell you anything. Was he not curious about you the way you were about him? Did he not care even a little bit? 

Oh well- you knew when to pick your battles, and you could see from miles away that this was an incredibly idiotic one to pick right now. 

You decided to ask him something lighter next. Maybe he’d answer then.

You sighed in nothing but utter bewilderment. Bakugou had to be the strangest person you could ever remember meeting. 

You groaned audibly. 

Talking to Bakugou was like pulling teeth, almost every time, and you couldn’t figure out why you kept coming back. All you knew is that you were going to, even with how annoying he was being right now. 

Huh? 

Embarrassing? 

You wracked your brain, searching and searching for anything that could’ve been embarrassing to him. He already said he wasn’t going to ask anything inappropriate, and he’d already swore several times that he wasn’t a liar, so it wasn’t that- but if it wasn’t that then what was it? 

He read your message, but didn’t begin typing. 

You were just intrigued now, what was he talking about? Why was he being so cagey about it?

The more you thought about it, the more nervous you were getting. You genuinely had absolutely no guesses on what he wanted to ask you. When you told him you’d answer anything you’d meant it, but now you weren’t so sure. 

Bakugou began typing a few minutes later.

You waited for his response with bated breath and shaking fingers.

It was a long shot, and you knew it. He’d been so secretive and reluctant to reveal anything about himself, you’d be really surprised if he said yes. You couldn’t help it though, typing out the suggestion the second the thought entered in your head. You wanted to know everything about him. Anything at this point- even if it was just what he sounded like when he spoke.

Bakugou began typing, but deleted his words. He didn’t start typing again.

You sighed, walking away from your phone dejectedly but not altogether that disappointed. You didn’t really have high hopes that he would’ve said yes anyway. You doubted Bakugou wanted to hear your voice as much as you wanted to hear his. 

Over twenty minutes past before your phone started ringing. 

Bakugou :)) - Incoming Call 7:31 PM

You took a shaky breath, unable to tell if your nerves were excitement or anxiety. Seeing the notification almost made you forget almost everything that wasn’t him.

You hit accept, bringing the phone close to your ear and holding your breath. You didn’t want to miss a single thing he said. 

“Hey, dumbass.”

Wow- his voice was not what you expected but definitely what you should’ve. It was low and raspy, deep and guttural; his greeting sounded more like a bark than anything as a result. And he was loud too. So very loud and if you paid extra close attention, maybe a little breathless. 

“Hey, angry man.” You couldn’t keep the joy out of your voice. “Hi.” 

“Oi-idiot. I can hear you fuckin’ smiling. Knock that stupid shit off.”

“Yeah, okay.” Giggling, you shifted the phone from your right ear to your left. “I was just happy to hear your voice at first. I’ll stop now if you want.”

“I- jesus. Fuck. Don’t say embarrassing shit like that again, or I’ll hang up.” His words were fast, and sharp, and loud but you think that maybe you could hear him smiling too. “Got it, shitty woman?”

“Yep. Got it- no smiling, or fun, or laughter or emotion because wet-rag Bakugou said so.”

“Hey! Shut the fuck up! That’s not what I fuckin’ said! I’m not a shitty w-“

“I know, I know, I was joking.” You couldn’t fight the smile stretching your cheeks even wider, but you tried to sober up for him anyways. “Now, c’mon, ask me what you were gonna ask me.”

You heard shuffling on his end, the sound of a door slamming shut, and the flick of a light switch. Otherwise he didn’t say anything.

“Did- did you just switch rooms to ask me?” You asked, nerves beginning to settle in your stomach. “Jeez, how serious is this?” 

Truth be told, you were a little worried now. What kind of question would require a secondary location?

“It’s not- fuck. I did switch,” He shouted, voice still breathless. You couldn’t figure out why though. “But not for that fuckin’ reason, just didn’t want shitty people- nevermind.”

“Wow, that was a whole lot of words there, and most of them were swears.” You couldn’t help teasing, hoping it would lighten the mood. “Very eloquent, Bakugou.”

“Fuckin’ suprised or somethin’? I swear like this over text too, idiot!”

“Yes, yes, I know.” You pulled the phone away from your ear, wincing slightly at just how loud he really was. “Now stop stalling, I wanna know.”

“Are you making demand-“

“Yes.”

“Don’t interrupt me, shitty woman! I’m fuckin’ gettin’ to it, Jesus! Y-you make everything so goddamn d-difficult.”

You were sure now. Bakugou was nervous. Maybe it was the excessive swearing, or the little stutter, or maybe it was the way he spoke his words so quickly that you could tell he forgot to breathe- either way, you knew it for a fact, and it only made your heart grow warmer than it already was. He was just as breathless as you and you found it adorable.

You didn’t say anything in response, instead waiting for him to start speaking again.

“I- shit. I don’t- I don’t know how to fuckin’ ask this without sounding like a pansy-ass!”

“Bakugou.” You nearly snort, already absolutely endeared by him. “C’mon- it’s fine. Just ask, it’ll be okay. What if I promise you I’ll only make you say it once?”

“Only once?”

“Yes, angry man, only once.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you can hear him breathing. Even through the phone, you can tell that his presence is loud- that nearly everything about him must be loud. It makes you wonder what a face-to-face conversation with him would be like. 

You decide then that you’ll do whatever it takes so you don’t have to wonder anymore. So you’ll know for certain exactly what he looks like when he swears and screams so much.

“I wanted- I just-fuck,” His voice is somehow louder, words blurring together as he nearly screams through the speakers. “I wanted to know- I wanted to know if you were mad about that stupid shit I said a few days ago, okay?!”

You blinked slowly, trying to figure out how to respond. What- what was he talking about? A few days ago?

Oh.

You always just run your mouth no matter what I say. So just do that since that’s about the only thing you’re capable of. 

You- you forgot about that until now. Almost completely, like he never even said it in the first place. And truly, at the time Bakugou said it, it did hurt; but not for that long, you knew he was just upset and probably didn’t mean it. So when you told him it was alright, you meant it. It was a shitty thing to say, for sure, but you were a big girl, you could choose your battles, and you could recognize when somebody was irritated- especially someone like Bakugou, who was incredibly obvious about his frustration. 

Still though- why was he still thinking about it? Was he- was he feeling guilty? Was he really worrying about your feelings that much? 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

“Jesus, see, this is why I didn’t wanna fuckin’ say anything!” Bakugou’s shouts interrupt your thoughts. He speaks almost faster than you could keep up with. “Fuckin’ say something already, idiot!”

“No-no, sorry, um,” You place your phone on the ground, turning it on speaker to avoid further hearing loss. “It’s not- I don’t think it’s embarrassing or anything; I just wasn’t expecting you to ask that. I was thinking.”

He goes quiet again- and you think you can hear him huff in frustration.

“You didn’t- you didn’t fuckin’ answer, dumbass. That’s not an answer.”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re right. It’s not.” You push your knees up to your chest, crossing your arms and pulling them into your body. “I’m not. I’m not upset- we’re good. It was shitty, but I get it, you were mad.”

“Okay. Because I-I didn’t mean it, okay.” Bakugou says, softer this time, but muffled, like he’s got his hand over his mouth. “But, I-I didn’t like care or anything, I only asked because I was just curiou-“

“Curious, huh?” You couldn’t help the teasing tone from dripping into your voice. “So you weren’t even the least bit concerned about my feelings?”

“No!” Bakugou shouts.

You roll your eyes when you hear the sound of a crash, like something fell on Bakugou’s side of the call. It sounded like glass, maybe? You didn’t think it could possibly get any louder, but once again he seemed to make it happen.

“I don’t care or anything, okay? I just didn’t want you to be fuckin’ annoying as shit and still be crying like a little bitch and not be tellin’ me about it!”

“So you want to know if I’m crying or not?”

“Yes- “ Bakugou says immediately, and even you can hear the surprised gasp that leaves his mouth. “No- I meant no! I don’t care, or whatever I-”

“Mhm. Calm yourself, angry man. Whether or not you care, we’re still all good. I’m not crying.” Your tone was indulgent. “But, you know, if you really wanna make it up to me thou-

“I don’t! I’m not- there’s nothing I’m sorry about, idiot!”

“If you really want to make it up to me,” You continued, talking over his complaints without missing a beat. “You could answer something for me.”

“No.”

“Oh c’mon, this is easy. Don’t be a wuss.”

“I’m not a fuckin- fine. Go. Ask.” His words are harsh, but the tone of his voice softens just a little. “Just don’t be weird about it.”

“I’m not.” You laugh under your breath. “I just wanna know- what was it that fell earlier, angry man?”

“N-nothing!” He screams, and you could only imagine just how red he was. “Nothing fell- so, so just drop it!

“Really? Because it sounded sort of like glass?” You snicker, moving to lie down, your head next to the phone. “Are you so nervous that you’re destroying your apartment, Bakugou?”

“I’m not-“

Another crash, and then you hear popping. It reminds you of when you cook bacon on the stove- is he cooking? 

“Fucking goddamit! Fuck-“ Bakugou roars so loudly you swore you could hear the spit in his mouth. The popping abruptly stops. “I’m not fuckin’ nervous! I’ve never been nervous so stop running your mouth and saying stupid shit like that becaus-“

“I’m nervous.” You say, voice small. “You make me nervous.”

There’s silence on the other end, and you think that maybe you made a mistake.

It wasn’t a lie. Bakugou did make you nervous- but maybe it wasn’t the right time to say that? Maybe it was too much vulnerability and he’d hang up out of a sheer discomfort? He was pretty allergic to emotions after all. 

That thought made you frown. Your ear drums might have been screaming for him to leave, but you certaintly weren’t. You liked him and wanted him to stay on the phone- asinine wailing and all.

“Being nervous is stupid, dumbass,” Bakugou bites out, all teeth and huffed breath. “Only stupid people do it. And you’re not actually stupid so you shouldn’t do it.”

You snorted, clasping a hand over your mouth. Of course, that’s how he would respond! It wasn’t clear to you now why you ever thought he’d hang up. Bakugou always seemed to stick around- even if only to make fun of you mercilessly.

“Wow. Thank you, Bakugou. Sage advice.” You laughed.

And then it was like you couldn’t stop laughing. You couldn’t help it- that was such a Bakugou response and just by virtue of it being that, you found it hilarious. You found him hilarious, and you were so beyond happy to be hearing his voice.

“G-get closer to the phone, idiot. I can barely fuckin’ hear you.” Bakugou suddenly snapped. You heard him take a deep, slightly shaky breath. “If-if you’re gonna laugh like that then at least let me hear it.”

You felt your face warm, heart racing wildly in your chest. “Yeah. Y-yeah, okay. Got it.” 

Grabbing your phone with shaking fingers, you pulled it to your chest, curling around it as you rolled on your side. The floor was slightly uncomfortable, the wood digging into your skin, but you didn’t think anything could’ve made you disrupt this moment. Nothing in the world. 

“Can you hear me?” You asked, utterly breathless and suddenly very shy. 

“Yeah.” He says softly. “I can.” 

And you agree with him- you think that maybe you can finally hear him now too. Yelling and screaming and surprising care and all. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

I'd love more from your deaging NHS AU verse! Maybe little NHS hanging out more with WWX? Or little NHS meeting JC? Or getting spoiled by JYL?

sequel to Little (deaging NHS - need to read that first)

Hosting another sect leader was both a burden and a privilege.

The burden was mostly logistical – although they’d reclaimed the Lotus Pier, they hadn’t managed to fix it all back up, and it was one thing for all of them to be living in a state more fit for wild bandits than a Great Sect but another thing entirely for them to let someone else see them do so.

Jiang Cheng couldn’t do everything himself, even if he was trying to, so Jiang Yanli stepped up to assist: she turned the kitchens into something livable, requisitioned disciples and laborers to focus on the main hall and the guest rooms, supervised the hiring of those who did the laundry and removed waste, all the important things needed to make their home an inviting one, as long as you were careful to only look at the main parts and not the rest.

Luckily, their guest was Nie Mingjue, not any of the other sect leaders, and he didn’t care. That was, Jiang Yanli suspected, the only reason that Jiang Cheng hadn’t had a full-on heart attack as the date of the man’s approach arrived.

Sure enough, he arrived with as little fanfare as possible, greeted them politely, and promptly sequestered himself, his younger brother, and his chief disciples into a room with Jiang Cheng to discuss sect business. By the time they emerged for dinner, Jiang Cheng looked worn out but immensely pleased, they’d signed a half-dozen treaties, and Jiang Yanli had enough food to feed a small army waiting for them. A good thing, too, since apparently the Nie ate like they’d been starving the week before their meal. Even Nie Huaisang made the food in front of him vanish at lightning-quick speed, and he didn’t even have the build to explain away where all of it was going.

By far the most interesting aspect of it for Jiang Yanli, however, was that Wei Wuxian had made an appearance.

This was something of a rarity recently. Something about the war had hurt him, deeply, and that reason, or for whatever reason, he was very obviously avoiding Jiang Cheng – and, as a result, neglecting the duties that ought to be his as chief disciple. Jiang Yanli knew that it was unintentional, that he still cared for both her and Jiang Cheng, for the sect. But it didn’t make it any easier for them that rather than helping them, he instead spent his days skulking around wine shops, and nothing either of them said seemed to make any difference.  

Both she and Jiang Cheng had already resigned themselves to Wei Wuxian snubbing the Nie sect entirely, but to their mutual surprise he was there with a smile that Jiang Yanli hadn’t seen in weeks, boisterous and loud and trying to steal some of the plates of Nie Huaisang’s food whenever the other man turned to say something to Jiang Cheng. Without success, since being notoriously poor at any martial skill did not keep Nie Huaisang from effectively slapping away Wei Wuxian’s wandering fingers without even looking.

He even volunteered to show them around Yunmeng the next morning – meaning a walk by the river, since the Lotus Pier itself was largely not showable in its current condition – and Jiang Cheng agreed to the idea with no little relief, since he needed some time to get the treaties filed and implemented.

“I didn’t know you two had gotten so close to the Nie sect during the war,” Jiang Yanli murmured to Jiang Cheng, who rubbed his face in exhaustion and joy.

“I think it’s because it’s a reminder of happier days, with Nie Huaisang?” he said hesitantly. “Maybe? Anyway, can you make sure they get snacks along with their tea this evening? Chifeng-zun said he was full when he finished his plate, but Nie Huaisang was definitely eying his neighbor’s bowl longingly at the end there.”

Jiang Yanli hid a smile with her hand. “Of course, A-Cheng. Leave it to me.”

She made an entire pot of soup, plus a handful of side dishes, and brought up the portion to the rooms set aside for the main Nie sect herself. It wasn’t just to give them face, though of course that was important given that the Nie were their most important allies barring maybe the Jin sect – it ought to be the Jin sect, but they were playing games with it, and certain overtures by Madame Jin had led Jiang Cheng to speculate that they hoped to finalize the revival of the engagement between Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan that Jin Guangshan had unilaterally raised not long ago before agreeing to provide any actual aid.

They hadn’t yet decided if it was worth playing the game back, hinting and implying and leaving themselves wiggle room in case Jiang Yanli really didn’t want to marry Jin Zixuan in the end; luckily, this visit by the Nie sect would put off the necessity of that for a good while. Maybe even for good, depending on how good some of those trading contracts were, and Jiang Cheng’s expression gave Jiang Yanli some hope.

Still, despite the absolutely critical importance of the relationship, that wasn’t why Jiang Yanli decided to go act the part of a servant personally.

Instead, she was hoping to use the opportunity see if she could get some insight into whatever they’d done to make Wei Wuxian smile like that, and to see if she could replicate it.

She wasn’t expecting to hear Wei Wuxian’s voice from the guest quarters they’d assigned to the Nie sect.

Not only because it was a little too late for any visit to be appropriate, but because Wei Wuxian had been avoiding the Jiang clan rooms for – rather a while, now. He wasn’t even sleeping in his own bedroom.

And yet – here he was.

Talking like a child.

Jiang Yanli’s heart stopped briefly in her chest when she heard the familiar whine Wei Wuxian liked to adopt when he was playing as A-Xian: it had always been their special game, her favorite way to indulge her mischievous little brother who sometimes liked to be fed and hugged and tucked in at night, and she would have sharp words for anyone who dared criticize it. But – in front of another sect leader –

“A-Xian, stop,” Nie Mingjue’s deep voice said firmly, his amusement audible even through the door. “Give Huaisang the toy back.”

“But da-ge,” Wei Wuxian whined, even though Nie Huaisang’s laugh made clear that he had handed back whatever toy they were talking about. “Why does he get to have the toy and I don’t?”

“I brought you three toys, you brat, and Huaisang only has one. Not everything is for sharing; some things are yours and yours alone.”

Jiang Yanli reflected briefly on the differences in child-rearing techniques between the sects – if it had been Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, she would have encouraged Jiang Cheng to share, and instructed Wei Wuxian to share in return – before realizing that Nie Mingjue was reacting to Wei Wuxian’s nonsense with extraordinary calmness. Almost as if he’d dealt with it before.

Almost as if he accepted it.

Jiang Yanli steeled her spine and knocked.

“I brought some snacks, Sect Leader,” she called.

There was a brief moment of quiet – some brief murmuring in low voices – but at last he said, “Enter,” and she did.

Wei Wuxian was sitting on the floor with his face buried in Nie Mingjue’s thigh, Nie Mingjue’s hand petting through his hair in a calming gesture; behind them, a small child of around seven, dressed in oversized Nie robes, lolled around on his stomach, his legs kicked up in the air, as he toyed with some puzzle game. Jiang Yanli hadn’t realized the Nie sect had brought along a child – one certainly hadn’t been present at dinner – but under the circumstances she opted not to comment.

“I thought you might still be hungry,” she said with a smile. “So I made some snacks, and soup.”

“Soup!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, lifting his head to reveal red cheeks. “Da-ge, you have to try shijie’s soup!”

“I intend to,” Nie Mingjue said. He was looking at Jiang Yanli thoughtfully. “Would you care to join us, Mistress Jiang?”

“I’d be happy to,” Jiang Yanli said, though she’d originally intended no such thing, and settled down to serve it out. “Thank you for taking care of A-Xian.”

“It’s nothing,” Nie Mingjue said. “A charming child, and one that speaks very highly of you. You must be very proud.”

“I am,” she agreed, and from the corner of her eye saw all the tension drain out of Wei Wuxian’s shoulders at her affirmation of their game. He scrabbled over to her side, abruptly affectionate, and cuddled up. “A-Xian, no! I need that hand to serve the soup. Didn’t you just say that you want Nie-da-ge to have some?”

Wei Wuxian pouted, but withdrew his sticky tentacles. The child on the bed laughed again and rolled over and up to his feet, hopping over to where Wei Wuxian was. “Wei-xiong can play with me while we wait.”

“Okay,” Wei Wuxian agreed at once. “We can play tag!”

“Don’t break anything,” Jiang Yanli said, and discovered to her amusement that Nie Mingjue had said the same exact thing at the same exact moment. He smiled crookedly at her, very briefly – his expression was not one usually given for smiling, typically stern and grim even when it was neutral, and the expression made him look suddenly younger.

“Younger siblings,” he said, an explanation and an excuse, and abruptly Jiang Yanli knew who the child must be. She didn’t know how it was that Nie Huaisang had physically regressed into childhood, as well as doing so emotionally the way Wei Wuxian did, but she supposed it didn’t really matter.

“Yes,” she said, and smiled back at him. “A-Xian likes it when I feed him his meals. Does…?”

Nie Mingjue shook his head. “Huaisang is very proud,” he said, voice fond. “He wouldn’t accept that sort of help from me, though perhaps he might accept it from you if he sees A-Xian getting a treat.”

“Children that age can be very jealous of each other,” Jiang Yanli agreed. “It’s a good thing that A-Xian is five today, so he can play with his friend, and not three. Maybe he can be three another time.”

“I must admit I haven’t noticed much difference so far,” Nie Mingjue remarked. “He’s still always clamoring for hugs.”

“Da-ge gives the best hugs,” Nie Huaisang said loyally.

Wei Wuxian looked a little shifty, but Jiang Yanli nodded at him supportively and he smiled. “They’re really good, shijie,” he confided in her. “He can pick me up!”

Jiang Yanli’s smile broadened, even as Nie Mingjue’s shoulders went up a little in embarrassment.

“We’re all good at different things,” she assured him. “Nie-da-ge is good at hugs, but I bet I’m better at doing your hair, right?”

“Yes! Shijie’s the best!”

“I want my hair done by Jiang-jiejie,” Nie Huaisang declared, eyes avid. “Can I?”

“After we eat,” Nie Mingjue said. “And only if you ask very nicely, and Mistress Jiang says yes.”

“I’ll say yes,” she said, and then, as an aside to Nie Mingjue, added, “You can call me Jiang-meimei if you like. If I’m calling you Nie-da-ge and all.”

He smiled again.

At some point, Jiang Yanli would need to examine how exactly Wei Wuxian had ended up taking Nie Mingjue as one of his caretakers, as well as how Nie Huaisang managed a full-fledged bodily transformation – and they’d need to bring Jiang Cheng in on this, somehow, even though he was neither caretaker nor little, simply because he would be jealous at being left out. And there was still Wei Wuxian’s unusual behavior, his inexplicable distance from all of them…

But that was a problem for later.

For now, they could just be there for them.

[arcadejohn127-9]

How the brothers would pull a belphie chapter 16 with MC:

AU: brothers take belphies place as the human hating demon

Warning: gore, blood, angst, violence, death, dark themes, murder

Lucifer:

You first found him in a secret passage way, when you first stumbled upon Satan finding it he ordered you to never go near it

But you were drawn to it; either out of pure curiosity or the voice that called for you

There's were you met him; Lucifer, he was annoyed when he told you his story - how Satan locked him up, how he mourned as Satan was like a son to him not just a brother

You felt awful! So you agreed to help and get him out

it was finally the moment! Lucifer was free, he could finally escape this damn study. He looked at you with a proud smile, gesturing for you to come closer.

He was sitting in his office chair; it looked as if he was struggling to finally leave the room. You could only assume due to being in there for so long he's grown attached to his condiment; you offered him a knowing smile.

"Would you mind letting me have a moment on indulgence? Before I finally face them - I wish to just hold you, it's been so long since I've had anyone around me."

You were surprised to see his demon form for the first time. Marveling at how beautiful it looked. it fit him perfectly.

you happily agreed but became bashful when he patted his lap. You hesitantly sat on his lap and he adjusted the both of you, he wrapped his arms around you. You gave him a gentle pat on his head, unsure what to do.

Your back Slightly curved when his hand trailed up to behind your neck.

"so easy, you're not the brightest human, are you?"

You didn't even get time to process his words; your head suddenly yanked back. You hissed as it smacked on the desk behind you.

"I'm ashamed this is what Diavolo comes up with when I'm not around but you were helpful to me in some parts - I'll atleast thank you for that."

you whimpered as his hand wrapped around your throat. Tears building up in your eyes as you tried to squirm. But your awkward position and banging headache was blurring your hopes; your head felt warm. It felt wet.

Just from that one attack alone you were already bleeding. Your heart was racing as he squeezed harder. You choked on air as you frantically moved, trying to pry his fingers away but it was to no use.

He hummed, displeased. He slammed your head back down on his desk giving you a moment to breathe but the air was knocked out of you as soon as it came back. Only a squeak of pain left your throat. Your eyes rolling back as pain consumed you.

His hand returned to strangling you and finally, your vision went black.

Mammon:

He was locked away in the garage at the back of the dorm

You didn't even know there was actually a back until you saw Lucifer go there

Your first impression on the demon wasn't exactly great - he was tooting his own horn abit too much for a guy locked up

But turns out, he was desperate to be let out and finally just be with his brothers again - he asked about Levithan alot

He looked so.... broken

You wanted to help him as much as you could and agreed to his plan

You squealed with excitement as the door opened. You rushed towards mammon, thrilled to finally be able to come properly face to face with him. The demon was grinning ear to ear as he whisked you off your feet, thanking you.

"you're a real one! I couldn't of done it without ya, human."

He finally put you down, you were laughing. Your eyes closing for a moment as you felt slightly dizzy from his excited spinning.

"That's why I feel somewhat bad for what I'm about to do to you."

Huh? You opened your eyes to give him a questioning look but it was too late. You didn't have time to realize he was now in his demon form.

You were booted to the floor, his foot slamming down on your chest. You let out a yelp of pain as you gasped in shock. He crouched down, balancing his arm on his knee. Looking down at you with a tilted head, his shades rolling down his noses just slightly.

"I'll be nice to ya, you were kind to me afterall, Its time I repay my debt."

you screamed; hoping someone would hear you but he just covered your mouth with his hand. His nails digging into your cheek and jaw, squeezing it tighter the more you panicked. Soon it turned into screams of pain as he just watched you thrash, still grinning.

Your jaw crunched under the sheer power of his hand. Blood shooting out as your jaw unhinged. Tears falling down as you lost consciousness; it was a miracle you still had that drop of life still in you. But that inch of life faded as he stood back up; slamming down his chest as hard as he could down on your heart.

Levithan:

He was downstairs, locked away in this giant indoor pool area

No comfy bed to sleep in....nothing to do

He kept calling Everyone, including you, Normies and seemed to not even want to be around people

But then you kept visiting, learning he just wanted to play video games with his brothers again and be able to see performances with fellow otakus

He was just alone in that room

It was a no brain-er that you agreed to help him escape

Finally! It was open! He was free!

He leaned on the floor above the pool, shock on his face as the door finally opened. You grinned as you jogged over to him. thankfully, he was wearing some swim shorts and a shirt.

You were so happy to finally be able to meet levithan properly. You sat down just Infront of him.

"you opened it-! You actually did it! You've unlocked the dungeon and ready to face the final boss."

You laughed, questioning the 'final boss'. Unsure who he could be referring to. He sprung at you, revealing his demon form and yanked you into the pool.

As soon as your head went under the water you tried to get back up but he grabbed your head, forcing it to stay under. You kicked and threw your arms but nothing was working. Your brain was burning up from all the questions and screaming it was doing.

Your neck was straining from how much it tried to lift upwards. Desperate to get above the water but he held your head down. It was too late, before you knew it you body moved out of pure instinct. It gasped for air.

You screamed as water filled your lungs, thrashing more desperately as your tears mixed with the water. Your eyes burning as he grumbled.

"didn't you learn anything? Don't trust demons."

That was the last thing you heard before your body stopped moving.

Satan:

Locked away upstairs in a mini library, an old sofa as his only bed

His snap from "please help me" to pure rage scared you - all because you brought up Lucifer

But you're dumb with curiosity and went to see him again, he apologized for his behaviour and told you his story

He sadly had a constant rage due to his sin like his brothers and for it, they locked him up like some dangerous beast

He was so miserable and ashamed of himself - so guilty for something he couldn't even control or get rid of

He was nice to you and was shown to care about others, why wouldn't you help him?

When the door opened it was a surprise to you both. Satan put down his book, keeping it in his grasp. You smiled at him and he returned it. He was happy to finally be free, being the first to move and give you a hug.

"It's almost pitiful how you lack a sense of danger, you've let yourself be in the arms of a beast."

You wanted to say something, to deny such a claim as you trusted him but it was all discarded as you let out a loud yelp. You pushed yourself away from his crushing hug, nervously looking at him as you backed away.

"ah, so you do notice me as a threat but it's abit late for that now, isn't it? You're already in here with me."

Satan threw his book, it hit you square in his face. You hissed in pain before screaming, he yanked you by the head to be further inside the room. Angered by your stupidity and begging; he thrusted his knee into your gut, repeatedly.

You coughed up blood as you sobbed. He threw your body to the floor, climbing ontop of you. You kept begging him to stop, unable to get away.

He clawed and punched your face, never stopping even when his arms ached. His anger blinding him as he tore at your body, slamming his bloodied fists down on your chest and grabbed at your head.

You were barely breathing when he slammed your head into the floor. A wheeze of breath leaving you after every blow. Your blood covered his torn knuckles, pooling around your head and running down your chin. Your ribs were broken and so was your nose. Your jaw felt like it was barely hanging on to itself.

He only stopped minutes after you stopped breathing.

Asmodeus:

He was hidden away in the greenhouse, unable to escape

When you met him he was so anxious to even show his face, telling you to look away to his ugliness

You learn he's very obsessive about his looks and being unable to properly care for his skin was eating at him BADLY

he was so desperate

Though he seemed surprised you didn't seem effected when you looked into his eyes

He told you he wanted to see his brother Satan the most, he raised the little demon himself when Lucifer couldn't

You felt like you had to help him, this wasn't a man who deserved to be locked up - so you agreed to his plan

He sprung up in surprise, standing besides the small mirror in his cell. You cheered out his name and he ran towards you.

Nuzzling your cheek with his own as he hugged you tightly. Peppering your cheek with kisses as he repeatedly thanked you.

"ah~! My knight in shining armour! But, sadly this is where your heroism ends."

You gasped as slammed you to the wall, gently shushing you as you trembled. His hand was on your chest, over your heart, his eyes scanning your face down to where his hand was.

"humans are all so ugly....but I bet your heart is beautiful, don't cry - it's bad for your skin, just let me see how beautiful you can be."

He wiped your tears, adjusting you so he could keep you pinned to the wall. Licking his lips as he grew fidgety. You were hoping for a chance of mercy; squeaking out a weak plea for him to stop. Begging for his compassion, demanding for a reason for his betrayal. You were going through the stages of grief in mere seconds. He watched you with delight as he giggled.

He caressed your cheek, giving it one last nuzzle, his demon form appearing before you before plunging his hand into your chest. You gurgled on your blood as you trembled - your body going into shock as he marveled at the feeling of your heart. Still not taking his hand out, he cooed at how soft you felt.

Your body slumped not long after but he still went through with it, yanking out your heart and watched it beat for a few mere seconds.

Beezlebub:

Locked away in the in the indoor gym, downstairs

How Lucifer hid his monstrous appitete from everyone was magic itself

He immediately asked you about his twin, belphegor - was he sleeping okay? Was he holding up well?

He seemed so cold but as soon as he started talking about his twin you saw just soft he could be

He told you Lucifer locked him up here due to his gluttony, teaching him restraint

He told you how hungry he was, he was starving

Whenever you visited you'd bring him food - the door itself you were able to touch so it was just being careful when passing it through

You felt bad for him, his stomach always growling and he always wanted updates on his brothers well being

You weren't going to let him just sit there and starve! You agreed to help him escape

It was finally time. He looked up at you, a pout on his grumpy face and a hand on his stomach. His eyes immediately scanned any sign of food but you were empty handed; he looked at your face as you stared at him in shock.

He walked over to you, a smile stretching out on his face before pulling you into a hug. You cried out with joy as you immediately hugged him back, nuzzling into his chest. He lowered his head, hiding it in your shoulder and gave your neck a few sniffs. You stiffened at his actions but tried to not think too much of it.

"I'm so hungry....you smell delicious....you should of known this would of happened."

You let out a noise of confusion and shock. Pushing yourself away from him but his hold on you was too tight. You hastily tried ducking under his arms but he only squeezed you tighter. His tongue running up your neck as if to taste you. You whimpered and shivered as your body shook, begging him not to hurt you.

"it's because of humans I failed Someone I love, if it weren't for you - she wouldn't be dead! Stop squirming, it'll make it less painful."

You screamed as his teeth sunk into the space between your shoulder and neck, ripping at the flesh. Blood spraying everywhere as he finally ripped the chunk off. Your watery eyes began to roll back; the last thing you could see clearly was his usual grumpy face. That stoic cold expression staring at you as your blood covered half of his face, he chewed on your flesh before offering his puppy like smile.

He kept going back to take bites, wanting to finally fulfill his long lasting starvation; you were already long gone and unable to cry for help.