#oh i feel like the sheer amount of run on lines in this bad boy should be an instant adhd diagnosis if i didnt have one already /jokingly

[compressednerve]

Nice to see another scratchalan fan! I was hoping I could hear your hopes and thoughts for Alan wake 2? I’m just hoping we get to see plenty of scratch I’ve seen some speculate he’s gonna be a main villain which sounds great to me :3c ✨

Thank you so much for this ask!! *ScratchAlan is the only ship to be ALIVE for., fellow crazy!!!! Hell fucking yeah!!! We needa make some room for AlanScratch tho, I want to write more Top! Alan because it turns me on. I have a feeling we're gonna see so much Mr. Scratch in AW2 that we might even get sick of him. I don't necessarily want him to be The Main Villain of it in the traditional sense... Mr. Scratch is, ultimately, just another side of Alan... And Alan has *many* sides! >:) We see just a taste of how many Alan's there are from The Signal/The Writer when he can't stop fracturing into further self-persecution. I hope to see lots of different Alan's made manifest, like the Teen Titans "Raven OSDD-1a" episode (shout out to my epic partner @parasitefun for showing me that fucking smash hit).

I have a lot of high hopes and fondness in my heart for Remedy and the development process they've been doing. I was a big fan of Alan Wake in 2013 and I did a looot of RP even in 2015-2017. Crazy shit! I kinda fell off the face of the Earth for a while tho. I've never played Quantum Break, and me and Paras are working thru Control together right now (we're in the Maintenance Sector and it just finished doing the Burn The Trash quest).

We spent most of May/June working thru Alan Wake and we have sooo many things to say on it that we're polishing up because it's such a dense story!! So transitioning from working thru AW with a fine tooth comb, to Control which is like four times the size of AW and has *that* much more to work thru, has been a real treat! Remedy sure knows how to make a good fucking story! It's like a croissant with many, many, many laminated layers to turn around in my head. I'm good at recognizing voice actors, so it made my head explode to realize Matthew Poretta played Darling, and James Mcaffrey played Trench. Like, omfg!! And every new realization along the way that links Control to AW. Just a real treat!

All that being said, I've seen a lot of posts along the lines of like, "Where's Alice!@!!! Where's Barry!!!!!!!" and it's like, will I be disappointed if they are underplayed...? yes. Do I worry that that's a possibility, at all? ...only a little bit! I want to put my faith into Remedy's ability to make this a good story. They've been chipping away at it for 13+ years, after all, and if I remember correctly, The Alan Wake Experience since 2000? As in the conception and development of AW1? So, 23 years entirely... that's a long time to be rotating the same Boy around. AW1 was a masterpiece IMO, a many-layered sandwich of nuance and metaphor, paradoxes within paradoxes... I think AW2 is gonna really surprise all of us.

Alan Wake 2, I'm super curious about what they do with it, and hopefully Mr. Scratch *and* Alan both get room to breathe. I think they will, and I'm so, so intrigued about what they're gonna do with Saga! It seems pretty ambitious for Remedy to do a multi-protagonist storyline like this, and their cheeky insistence that you can play it however you want, there's no wrong way to play, makes me worried. I hope more than anything that they didn't dumb down certain world-building elements (I'm blown away at how we went from TVs, radio show0,s and manuscripts in AW1 to the sheer amount of multi-media that went into Control).

I have in some degrees some fairly bad brain damage that inhibits a lot of my abilities to comprehend certain things, and yet, everything about the way the world-building environment contributes to a Greater Understnding of a Remedy Game that most people tend to ignore or outright complain about! Oh, the TV ruins the pacing, oh I didn't wanna have to stand here listening to someone talk I wanna run around and shoot things, oh boo I didn't like how many manuscripts i had to pick up. It's a little tedious, yes, and it breaks the Pacing Of The Literal Game up a little bit yes, but!!! It's excruciatingly important to the story!! It's a ROLE PLAYING GAME!!! YOU HAVE TO ROLE PLAY OMFG!!!!!! (still salty over how Zero Punctuation reviewed these games considering how fucking detectivey they are).

So anyways all of that being said, I hope that Alan Wake 2 is stuffed to the BRIM with multi-media. I hope we get SICK of manuscripts and casettes and pictures with captions and TV episodes and radio shows and BLAH BLAH BLAH. I hope Saga and Alan have a lot of crazy shit go down with each other because they're also very shippable. I hope Alex Casey calls Alan a shitty writer because he's one of the only obvious "HI, I'M A BOOK CHARACTER INVENTED BY ALAN WAKE. I'M VERY MAD. ABOUT BEING CREATED BY ALAN WAKE."

Ideally I would have played all the Remedy games to be caught up by now on more of the AW2 hype and analysis, because I wish I had more things to say! But because I haven't finished Control or QB yet, I'm trying to stay away from stuff that technically spoils Control just by virtue of being in the AW-verse.

*this is technically a lie because I'm actually a huge multshipper :k lel catch me on ao3 writing about the most bizarre AW pairings just you fuckin wait

[ventihonklightice]

period pains || sapnap

Sapnap x fem!reader

Word count: 1.5k words

Summary: Sapnap, being the amazing, super, terrific boyfriend he is, went to buy y/n tampons. needless to say, she got plenty.

Moving in with Sapnap and Dream was exciting. It got to the point where Y/n was at their house almost everyday, so it was an easy acclimation. At first, Y/n was nervous about how living with her boyfriend’s best friend would work, but it was surprisingly more manageable than she thought. She wasn’t nervous about walking around Dream anymore, though her cheeks would glow a particular shade of red after late night rendezvous with Sapnap that he pretended to not hear. Little did she know, he spared her the mockery by privately doing so to Sapnap.

Currently though on a somewhat cloudy Florida day, her boyfriend was out with said best friend and roommate before the Texan received a text.

y/n <3

do you love me

He put down his drink at the sight of the notification popping up on his phone, quirking a brow at his girlfriend’s words while his friend proceeded to eat his meal.

sappy pandas

??

of course I do

where’s this coming from?

Sapnap was slightly concerned, knowing Y/n to be more reserved when asking for his affirmation of love.

y/n <3

since you love me

can you pretty pretty pretty pls

get me tampons

and stuff

I am suffering

He chuckled at the multiple text bubbles that appeared on his screen, causing Dream to divert his attention from his food to his friend’s phone.

sappy pandas

oh shit

I’m sorry :((

We’ll be back in 30 or 40 minutes <3

Y/N groaned, not being able to take the pain any longer and just wanting cuddles with her boyfriend, though regardless, she appreciated his actions.

y/n <3

omg thank you

thank you

I love you so much

Sapnap smiled widely, quickly moving his fingers to text a reply. “Y/n?” Dream asked, taking yet another bite. Sapnap just nodded his head, focused on his girl.

sappy pandas

yeah yeah love you too baby

“Can we stop by Walgreens or something on the way back? She needs stuff,” he spoke to Dream who was currently scarfing down the rest of the food. He nodded his head, still chewing.

“Also, can we order her food?” Sapnap asked shyly. Dream chuckled at the comment, “oh so now I’m both your AND her sugar daddy? I’m going broke because of you two.”

Sapnap blushed, feeling bad about making the blond pay even though he almost always insisted. “I-I’ll pay for it dude, it’s not a big deal.”

Dream shook his head, taking a sip of his soda, “no. Never. I literally asked you to come here, I’m not making you pay for shit.”

The waitress came back, taking the plates and asking if we’d like a check, with the boys instead asking for a menu.

Half an our later, the pair was going across the street of the restaurant and to the drugstore. “What does she need anyways?” Dream asked, following Sapnap’s footsteps.

“Tampons and stuff,” he almost whispered, uncomfortable with the words and also not wanting others to hear him mutter them. “Oh,” Dream answered shortly as they made a bee line to the ‘feminine hygiene’ aisle. Needless to say, the men were overwhelmed.

“Why are there so many?” Sapnap asked as his eyes scanned over various pink and purple packages. “Text her and ask her exactly what she needs,” Dream suggested, eyes also scanning the products before him.

It had been five minutes and Y/N had yet to respond. Sapnap groaned, “what do I do?” His friend shrugged before a very dumb idea crossed his mind. “Just like, get a bunch.”

Sapnap looked at his friend and blinked before speaking “that’s a great idea.” They went to go grab a shopping cart before they began to fill it with various types of cotton.

“No, Sapnap that’s underwear,” Dream spoke as he saw his friend grab diaper like underwear, “it’s for bladder problems or something.”

Sapnap quickly put it back before looking at tampax, “okay but these are definitely tampons.” He grabbed those, along with several other brands and sizes. He moved onto pads, doing the exact same thing.

“This looks... fine,” Sapnap spoke as he examined the sheer amount of cotton recently thrown into the cart. He pushed the cart until reaching the candy aisle. He wanted to buy her some in hopes of making her feel better. So, he took various chocolates alongside her favorite candy and went to go grab pain relievers before approaching the register.

The cashier looked between the cart and the two men scurrying to put the period products onto the counter, forcing a muffled laugh out of Dream. “Find everything okay?” She muttered, scanning the items that Sapnap began to place on the counter, a line forming behind them.

“Uh y-yes thank you,” Sapnap stuttered, placing the candy down last.

“That’s gonna be $198.46,” she expressed as Sapnap fumbled with his debit card, Dream already carrying most of the bags. The two men hurriedly left the store.

“That was so embarrassing. There was a line and everything, oh my god those people must think I’m crazy,” Sapnap muttered, rubbing his hands over his face.

“This-This is definitely a little overboard,” Dream spoke as he slammed the trunk closed.

“It’s fine. This is fine. I don’t want her to like, not have the stuff she needs. I’d feel awful,” Sapnap spoke as he opened the passenger seat door. “Whatever you say pandas.”

~

Never receiving a text from Y/N, Sapnap assumed that she had been asleep. Dream helped him carry the various bags of tampons and food into the house, but thought it’d be best to let his friend carry them to his girlfriend.

So, Sapnap did so, just very loudly. He stumbled into the bedroom, his eyes landing on his girlfriend. Through the ruffling of the bags and his loud footsteps she began to stir about. “Sapnap?” She mumbled tiredly, his form looking like a blob in her sleepy daze.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he whispered, gently placing down the bags by his bed before leaning over to kiss her forehead.

“Did you go to the store?” She asked, her eyes opening more and more. He scratched his neck as he looked at the bags, “yeah. I just- I just didn’t know what you needed so...”

His voice trailed off as he bent down to grab the bags, “I kind of bought a lot.” Y/N sat up slowly examining the bags with wide eyes, a hand covering her mouth to stifle her laughs.

“Baby,” she giggled, moving to get up to go towards the bags before Sapnap stopped her. “Stay put, I’ll bring the bags to you m’lady,” he spoke with a posh British accent on his last word. Y/n smiled and watched as he grabbed the bags and tossed them by her legs, finally settling onto the bed next to her.

“This is so much,” she muttered going through bag after bag, “you are so sweet.”

Sapnap turned red at her words, watching her go through them to find what she needed, “w-we could donate them or something?”

Y/n let out a scoff, stopping her movements to look at him, “literally the sweetest man. How’d I get this lucky?”

“Yeah I’m literally perfect,” Sapnap spoke sarcastically, leaning his head on her shoulder. Y/n giggled once more, finding the bag that had the reciept and pulling out the long pice of paper. Her eyes went wide as she looked at the total, “two hundred dollars!”

Sapnap snatched up the receipt before she could examine it further, “don’t worry about it.”

Y/n shook her head proceeding to dig through the bags, “and you got me candy? And medicine?”

Her eyes began to tear up as she threw her arms around Sapnap, startling him. “It was nothing,” he muttered softly, wrapping his arms around her torso gently.

“You’re the first guy that’s ever done this for me. Actually care and shit,” she sniffled, her words muffled in his chest. Sapnap’s eyes softened and he carded his fingers through her hair, “well it’s cause I love you and I think you deserve the world. And if making a Walgreens go tampon bankrupt does that, then I’m okay with it.”

Y/n chuckled at his words, pulling away to wipe tears off her face. “I love you too,” she expressed with a slightly exhausted tone. A soft smile appeared on the Texan’s features,

“D-Do you want me to run a bath or something? Or we got you food. It’s in the kitchen and I’ll grab it if you want,” he explained as he laid back onto the beg, dragging Y/n with him softly.

“Can we just lay here for a minute?” Y/n asked, snuggling further into his chest.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he mumbled, kissing the top of her head. He continued to run his fingers through her hair, eventually hearing light and steady snores from the girl on his chest. He couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

[pascalpanic]

Sweet Talk (Din Djarin x afab!Reader)

Summary: Din can’t hold back anymore, and decides to start flirting with you. Too bad he’s awful at it.

W/C: 3.5K

Warnings: lots of flirting, lots of innuendos, SMUT 18+, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it, kiddos), fingering, squirting, cream pie... language? yeah uh there’s a lot. Reader is afab but no pronouns or gendered pet names are used. lots of dirty talk.

A/N: AAAAAAAA this was a request for @notabotiswear!! I hope you guys all like it, this is my first Din smut and I was rlly nervous bc uh Din smut is obviously something big in this fandom and I wasn’t sure if I’d characterize it properly. but here we are!

You don’t know what Din looks like under his helmet, but you think he must be smirking. There’s no way the man wouldn’t be, not with the words he just said to you.

You’ve been travelling with Din and his little green son for a while now. You’d brought everything good to the beskar man’s life the moment you met. You made him eat more, drink more water. The presence of another human on the ship encouraged Din to bathe more and to keep the ship tidier. All in all, things had massively improved when you entered Din Djarin’s life.

One specific perk brought relief: you were extremely in touch with The Force. So was the tiny little green bean. From you, Din had finally learned his son’s name. He didn’t really like the way Grogu rolled off the tongue, however, so he generally stuck to calling him what he had before. Your ability to communicate with Grogu made things like bedtime and baths much easier, and everything went smoother.

Yes, you were a Force user. Ever since you were a child, you’d had a special sensitivity to that force that flowed all around you. Even though Din was not aware of The Force, nor was he able to use it or speak with it, the energy of The Force made the man practically glow. You understood why Grogu liked him so much. The man radiated it, warm energy that seemed unnatural for a bounty hunter. Once you got to know him, it all made sense. His aura was indescribable, really, but it was fitting. He was a good man at his core. He was kind and even funny sometimes.

Let’s return to the present: Din Djarin just pulled a cheesy pickup line on you, and it made you stare at him with an expression of sheer confusion, even though you could feel your cheeks warm from his words. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” You ask, placing your hands on your hips.

He looks up at you and cocks his head to the side. “I said that I may not be able to feel the Force, but I wish I could feel you.”

Your mouth hangs open, trying to press down a giggle that rises in your throat. “Din, what the fuck?” You finally laugh, grinning. “That’s the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard. No wonder you’re single,” you shake your head. “Where is this coming from?”

Din’s last reserve has broken. He’s been planning this for days, planning the way he’d finally tell you everything he thinks. “Just… I wasn’t listening to you at all. Was looking at your face. You’re gorgeous, you know that?” He asks you, the black T-visor staring you down.

You frown as you see your own reflection in the shining beskar. “I wish I could say the same about you,” you tease and tap your fingers on the metal helmet he wears. “What do you look like under there? Can you tell me?”

“Why, so you can make fun of it?” Din rolls his eyes.

“No, so I can finally put a face to the man I think about at night,” you tease, leaning in closer. It’s instinctual, like you’re leaning in so he can kiss you. He obviously can’t, not with that damn helmet on his head that you know isn’t coming off any time soon.

Din’s breath catches in his throat. “Oh come on,” you smirk at him. “Two can play at that game, Din. What do you look like?” You ask, tracing your fingers across the indents of his helmet and down to his neck. “Can I see your skin?” You ask in a low, quiet voice.

Din nods. You pull the neck of his clothing down to reveal a patch of gorgeous, caramelly skin. “Oh,” you mumble before you can stop yourself. “I bet you have brown eyes, don’t you? With brown hair too, since your skin is this dark. Am I right?”

His breath is heavy now. “Yeah,” he rasps out through the modulator. You press a soft kiss to his skin, feeling how warm and soft it is.

A shiver runs through his body, making the skin prick up beneath your lips. “Oh. So you meant it when you were flirting,” you giggle, sitting back upright and looking at him. “Well, you’re gonna have to win me over the hard way, Mando. Flirting is how people usually do it, I’ve heard,” you tease and pat his helmet as you stand and make your way out of the cockpit.

His aura has changed. It radiates further, sucks in more energy and pushes more out, all at a quicker speed. If it had a color, it would be a deep pink. “You want me too, don’t you, cyare?” Din asks, voice low and husky.

“You’ll have to figure that out yourself, Din,” you laugh and make your way over to your little green child to wake him from his nap.

“Grogu,” you sing softly, and the little thing stirs beneath his absurd amount of blankets. Those big eyes blink open and he makes a little grunt of effort. “I know, baby boy. So sleepy,” you coo and lift him from his cradle. He cuddles into your chest contentedly. “Good morning, snugglebug,” you mumble and press a kiss to his head.

Your back is to the ladder, but you can hear Din climbing down. His feet hit the floor. “I’ve been thinking about you for so long,” he tells you. His voice is even deeper, raspier than the modulator makes it sound. “That body… you don’t know what you’ve unleashed by saying tha-”

You turn, holding Grogu in your arms. Din’s demeanor shifts. “Oh. Uh, hi buddy. Can he understand me?” he asks. He knows sometimes the child can, but not always. Not when he uses different words.

You shake your head, reading the baby’s energy. He’s too sleepy to comprehend anything. “No, he can’t. But really, is that so?” You ask, popping a hip and resting a hand on it.

Din nods. “I’ve always loved the color of your eyes. Have I mentioned that?” You shake your head. “Really, they’re so beautiful.”

That makes you genuinely smile up at him. “Din,” you coo and place a hand on one of the indents of his helmet. “Is there a way you can remove the helmet and I can’t see it that’s legal with The Creed? Like, if my eyes were closed, could you do it?”

He nods. “Yes. As long as you don’t see my face.”

You smile a little. “Good to know,” you nod and walk away, the baby in your arms.

-

The day continues like that, the two of you trading compliments and pick up lines, shamelessly flirting around the Crest. You cook dinner and Din comments that it smells nearly as good as you. Din fixes something mechanical and you comment that those fingers would feel really good somewhere else.

There’s a palpable tension between the two of you for the rest of the night. You and Din dance around each other, sneaking touches of the other’s arm or hand or back. He compliments you and you flirt right back.

When Grogu finally yawns, it’s like the Maker themself sent it. Din hurriedly puts the baby to bed, and finds you in the cockpit after, sitting in his chair. The pilot’s chair. “Din,” you sing-song to grab his attention.

“What?”

You look at him with purpose for a second, then close your eyes. Sitting up a little. Referring to what you said earlier- Din can remove his helmet if you can’t see his face. He can kiss you. You can touch his face, feel him. “I promise they’ll stay closed,” you tell him.

You can hear him breathe through the modulator of his helmet for a moment, then there’s a soft sound of the helmet being removed. Finally, there’s a clank of the helmet being set on the floor. When it’s just your little family of three on the ship, Din omits the full beskar regalia. Nevertheless, you can hear the soft noise of his knees hitting the floor. In front of you. “Can I kiss you?” He asks.

His real voice is like a song. It’s nowhere near as low, though it’s still a bit deep, a bit raspy. It’s beautiful, so quintessentially Din, and you nod with a small smile. “That’s why they’re closed, stupid,” you tease.

One of Din’s calloused hands finds the side of your face. He pulls it down a little, for his kneeling height, and kisses you. Slowly. His lips are warm and soft, surprisingly soft, against your own. You break away from him for a second, your eyes still squeezed tightly shut as if you may accidentally open them. “Can I touch your head?” You ask.

In response, Din takes your hands and puts them on either side of his face. It allows you to feel the stubble beneath your fingertips, the warm skin. “You have a beard,” you giggle softly.

“All the better if my face is between your legs, right?” He chuckles. It’s just so fucking perfect and real, the way his laugh sounds without the helmet. As much as you’re enjoying the sound, the words that his voice formulates make you gasp a little and shudder. “You want that?” He asks you, lips finding your neck and kissing it slowly.

“Goddamn,” you mumble. “No, Din, I wanna fuck you tonight. Can we? Will you keep your helmet off if I promise not to look?” You ask, voice desperate. You clutch the back of his head, digging your fingers into the thick hair there- it’s wavy, you can tell. “Maker, I’ve wanted you for so fucking long.”

Din makes a little noise of affirmation into your neck. “Yeah,” he nods. “Even better, just wait,” he says, pulling away and putting the helmet back on. “You can look again.”

You do, seeing just your reflection in his helmet. “Where do you want me, baby?” You murmur to him, a hand on the side of his helmet.

Baby. No one has ever called Din that before. He’s heard it a million times, in crowded cantinas, between lovers. Between two people who cared for each other. You two cared for each other, he supposes. Obviously, or you wouldn’t be in this situation. The thought of the word makes Din pause for a moment.

“Hello? Din, what’s in there?” you tease and rap on the helmet with a fist.

You can’t see it but he’s absolutely beaming beneath his helmet, overjoyed. “Where do you want me? In the bunk? In the chair?”

You lean in and smirk, your eyes reflected in the black visor. “Where have you dreamed of having me most?” You whisper, and you swear you can see the beskar-clad man shudder.

“My bunk. Get undressed and lie down for me,” he tells you, already climbing down from the cockpit and motioning with his head for you to follow. You nod excitedly and climb down after him.

Din is looking for something, though you’re unsure of exactly what. You remove your top and pants, and start to move to remove your breastband before two large hands find your bare sides.

Din has returned, and he turns you around. He looks down at you with a long and thin strip of dark fabric in his hand, and you shudder. “Is that what I think it is?” You ask, hands finding the sides of his breastplate.

As you start unlatching his armor, Din nods. “You can undress me, then I’ll put it on and remove my helmet,” he tells you.

You smile a little as you start removing his beskar, tossing it to the side onto a discarded cape. It still makes a soft clunk, but it’s not enough to wake Grogu, thank the Maker. Once the metal is gone, your hands run over his flight suit, allowing you to feel the strong muscles beneath them.

“Din,” you murmur, unzipping the front. It exposes his bare chest, his tan skin with dark hair across it. He’s muscular, of course; as a bounty hunter must be. His arms are just as strong as you push the sleeves off of his shoulders, then push the waist down.

He doesn’t wear underwear. Of course he doesn’t, it would be impractical you suppose, but it exposes Din’s surprisingly large dick. You bite your lip as you look down at it, at how hard and needy it already is. You give it a slow stroke and Din groans. “Alright mesh’la. Let’s get that off of you,” he says and lifts your arms, pulling off the breastband.

After that, he shoves your underwear down and you step out of them, kicking them to the side. “Fuck,” he grunts at how beautiful you look, naked before him. Din pushes you back until your ass meets the end of his bunk and he lifts you to sit on the edge.

He spreads your legs and stands between them, his cock pressing against your dripping folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet, and it’s for me?” He chuckles with hardly any air in his lungs.

“Of course I am. So fucking sexy,” you murmur as you let your face fall forward into his chest, kissing at the skin and working a mark into his pec. You pull away and sit back, giving him a little room. “Okay, put it on me. Please. I just wanna kiss you,” you admit, closing your eyes preemptively.

He nods and wraps the cloth around your eyes, using his deft fingers to knot it behind your head. It’s snug, but not too tight. “You do this often?” You tease, resting your hands on his wrists.

He shakes his head. “Never have. Always kept the helmet on. You’re just…” he pauses as he removes his helmet, “something special,” he sighs, finally kissing you again.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him tight against you, wrapping your legs around his waist as well. “Din… should’ve said something sooner. Would’ve done anything for you,” you sigh as his lips find your jaw and then your neck, slowly tracing his tongue across your collarbone.

He makes a little grunt. “Sorry,” he chuckles. “Let me make it up to you,” he mumbles as he cups your face and kisses you again, his tongue running along the seam of your lips. “Can I do this, baby? Will you let me fuck you?”

The word again. Baby. It slipped from Din’s lips this time, before he could stop himself. He really really likes you, so much so that he can hardly contain it. He’s never been one for names in bed, degrading or praising, but he’s never going to stop calling you his, his baby.

You whine softly and break the kiss. “Please, Din. Fuck me, wreck me,” you nod before reaching out to where you find his face.

While you trace the stubble of his jaw, one of Din’s thick fingers slips into your folds. He shudders at how wet you are, tracing a finger up and down through the wet skin. “Mm, fuck,” he groans softly as the pad of his middle finger masterfully finds your clit. He rubs small circles into it, causing your head to fall forward into his shoulder.

“Please, please,” you whine, your walls clenching around nothing. “Fuck me already, baby,” you plead with Din, gripping his hips now.

“Relax, cyare,” he murmurs and kisses your neck. With the helmet on, he rarely gets to experience anything pleasurable with his mouth. Your skin is so soft and warm beneath his lips, his tongue, and he just has to bite at it. Din nibbles at your earlobe, feeling himself grow harder. “Let me take my time with you.”

“I’ve waited so long for you, Din. Please don’t make me wait,” you beg, slowly stroking his cock. A bead of precum forms on the tip and you swirl it around the head with the pad of your thumb.

Din can’t hold back anymore. He pushes your hand away and lines himself up to you with the free hand, two fingers circling your clit now. “You ready for me?” He groans.

“Yes, just fuck me,” you whimper and grab both sides of his head, pulling him to kiss you. It’s deep and hot and it grows sloppy as Din pushes into you, splitting you open on his deliciously thick cock. “Fuck,” you cry out at the sensation.

“You think you feel good?” He shivers and barely breathes out. “Feel so fuckin’ good around me, so hot and wet,” he shudders.

Din’s still standing, and he has more leverage as he thrusts all the way in, then pulls nearly all the way out. “Lay back,” he orders you, and you comply.

His second thrust is even deeper than the first as he pulls one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing him to already hit the deep spot inside of you. You whine and he smirks. “There we go. Good job, baby, keep making those noises for me,” he insists as he starts thrusting in and out of you.

He’s fucking good at this. It’s no surprise really, the way he knows your body masterfully. It’s almost as if you’re using The Force to guide him, but he’s just that fucking skilled. His tip drags against that sweet spot against you with every thrust, and Din pulls your hips to his with one hard thrust.

It’s so hot, the sound of Din’s skin slapping into yours, the way the skin of his thigh drags against yours. “Fuck,” you cry out as he presses his fingers a little harder against your clit, making the circles he draws slower and more deliberate.

“Knew you’d sound so good,” he grunts. “Knew you’d love it when I’m fucking you. When I get to take you like this. Don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you nod frantically. “I wish I could see you.”

“I know, cyare,” Din assures, even though his voice is breathless and strained. “Come on, baby, you feel so close, don’t you? I can feel it, the way your walls are getting tighter around me. You gonna be good and cum on me? I think you can.”

His words are just as arousing as his actions. “I will, please, I can feel it, just keep going and don’t stop,” you whimper. You take one of his hands, lacing his fingers through yours.

Din smiles at the gesture. It’s soft, intimate. He likes it as much as he loves the way you call him baby. “That’s my good baby,” he nods and pulls your hips a little off of the bunk, so that anything that spills from you will collect on the metal floor instead of the mattress.

It grows and grows in the pit of your stomach, and you can feel it. It’s coming and it’s coming hard. “Din, Din please,” you whine, one leg wrapping tight around his hip. “Fuck, I’m gonna,” your voice barely manages out before it washes over you, the feeling flowing through your body like a high in your veins. “Din,” you cry out as you cum, toes curling from the intensity. It spills from you, all over Din’s cock, dripping onto the floor.

“Oh, good job, cyare, fuckin’ Maker, you feel so good,” he groans. “I’m not gonna last much longer. Can I cum in you?” He asks, still checking up on you.

You nod. “Please, please baby,” you groan and squeeze the hand you’re holding tight. “Need to feel it.”

He nods too, though you can’t see it. “Okay, okay, I-“ a strangled cry comes from deep within his throat as he finally lets go, his cum pushing deep inside of you. “Fuck,” he murmurs, interjected by shouts of your name.

The both of you come down later, panting and covered in sweat. Din pulls out and a little bit of his cum drips from you, joining your own release on the floor. It’s so fucking hot that Din nearly cums again. “Stay right there,” he tells you, gently stroking your hip. “Don’t take the blindfold off.”

He comes back a few moments later with a damp rag, cleaning you up before cleaning up the mess the two of you made on the floor. He puts it with the laundry then climbs into the bed next to you, cuddling into your side. “Fuck, Din,” you giggle and press a kiss to whatever skin is in front of your face- his jaw. “You’re good at that.”

“Just felt so good,” he chuckles too. “You’re fantastic. I like it when you call me baby,” he admits.

You grin. “Then I’ll have to call you it all the time, baby,” you chuckle and kiss his lips softly. “Din?”

“Yes, ner k’arta?”

“Can we sleep like this?” You ask. “I promise I won’t look at your face or sneak anything, I mean it.”

Din chuckles quietly. “Of course we can. I trust you.”

You give a happy little noise and cuddle into his warm body, his strong arms surrounding you. “I like this. You’re so cuddly,” you admit with a small laugh.

“We can do this anytime you like,” he laughs too, kissing your forehead. “Whenever, wherever. If it’s with you, I’ll do anything.”

-

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

[wishuhadstayed]

It Takes a Village

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: about 3000

Summary: when the Hotchner fam is in need, it’s a good thing to have many helping hands. Part 9 to Begin Again.

Warnings: mentions of blood and pregnancy complications

Author’s Note: I really am sorry for that cliffhanger y’all. 😬 I’m just glad you still love me after being gone for like, a literal year. Shoutout to @agent-laufeyson you’re the best 💜 (PS, please ignore Haley in the below gif, also please picture Hotch in the hospital in casual clothes.) 😌

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

For a moment, Aaron’s whole world stopped turning. A cold, familiar sense of dread settled into his chest at the words, “You all may want to sit down for this.”

“Not again,” he thought. “I can’t do this again, we can’t do this again.”

“God please,” he begged internally, slumping into a chair, “if you’re listening, please don’t take her. We need her.”

Suddenly, the voice of a surgeon cut through the silent room like a knife.

“Sir, your wife lost a significant amount of blood. We had no choice but to perform an emergency c-section. Although your daughter is slightly pre-term, she seems to be in good health. However, we would like to keep her a while for monitoring.”

“And my wife?” He inquires, voice trembling with fear.

“It was touch and go there for a while, but we were able to locate the source of bleeding and get it under control. Your wife is out of surgery. She’s stable, but she is very weak and currently asleep. She will also be hospitalized for recovery. At least a week most likely, maybe longer.”

“Mama’s gonna be okay?” Jack pipes up.

“Yes, she is buddy,” Aaron replies, ruffling his hair. “Thanks to that doctor.”

“Thanks for making my mama feel better.”

“You’re most welcome,” the surgeon replied. “You and your dad can go visit her now. The rest of you will have to wait. She needs her rest. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you doctor,” Aaron says, shaking his hand with a sigh of relief.

“You go Aaron,” Rossi encourages, clapping him on the shoulders before he even had a chance to turn around. “Go see your wife and baby. We’ll wait.”

——————————————————————————

Entering your hospital room, Aaron thought your sleeping face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Sitting on the side of your hospital bed, he grabbed hand as you stirred awake.

“Hello Angel,” he murmurs as you take everything in. “You gave us quite a scare,” he mentions, softly caressing your face.

“The baby,” you whisper, touching his hand.

“Ssssshhhh,” he soothes. “The baby is fine. She’s in the nursery. You just rest okay?”

Instant relief washes over your face. “Jack?”

“I’m right here mama!” he exclaims, scrambling into Aaron’s lap.

“I want to see the baby,” you tell Aaron.

“I know darling, but you really need your rest.”

“I NEED to see her, Aaron.” You plead.

Taking the hint, he begins to rise. “Jack why don’t you stay with mama, while I go talk to the nurse, okay?”

“Okay Daddy,” he agrees, climbing in the bed next to you.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better mama,” Jack says, looking up at you with the sweetest face.

“Me too, baby,” you reply. “Are you ready to meet your sister?”

“Yeah!” he exclaims with a look of excitement. “Can I hold her?”

“Of course you can buddy, as long as you’re careful,” Aaron replies as he re-enters the room. “The nurses are bringing her down.”

A few minutes later a nurse arrives holding a tiny pink blanket. “Who wants to hold her first?” She inquires.

“You should hold her first, Aaron,” you suggest.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he insists. “You’ve been the strongest, bravest mom I know already. You should hold her first.”

As the nurse places the tiny, squirming bundle with her father’s dark hair in your arms, all the stress and chaos of the day seems to just melt away.

As you free a tiny hand from the swaddle so she can grasp your finger, her eyes flutter open.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” you wonder aloud.

“Absolutely lovely,” Aaron muses, draping his arm around your shoulders. “Just like her mother.”

——————————————————————————

Meanwhile, cooped up in the waiting area, the BAU team began to grow restless.

“Maybe we should get out of the hospital and go shopping while we wait,” Garcia suggests. “I think Y/N deserves all the gifts and pretty things today.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” JJ questions.

“TARGET RUN!” all three women exclaim in unison.

They all wandered the aisles like kids in a candy store.

“I’m getting her balloons,” Penelope says. “Like so many pink balloons. Nobody can feel bad with that many balloons.”

“Flowers,” Rossi chimes in. “We should get her plenty of flowers to make the room cheerful.”

“We’ll have to get those from hospital gift shop,” JJ comments.

“I’d want chocolate,” Emily suggests. “Chocolate helps everything.”

“Look,” Morgan says, showing a pink stuffed bunny to Garcia. “It’s cute right? For the baby?”

“It’s perfect, Derek,” she assures, grabbing his hand. “Very cute.”

“Oh, a memory book,” Reid mentions. “So they can write down details every day.”

“Leave it to the genius to pick out a book,” Morgan jokes with a playful shove.

“Settle down, boys.” JJ cuts in. “As much as I’m sure she’ll appreciate the pretty gifts, she did just have a baby,” she reminds the group. “She needs some practical things too, trust me.” As she picks out a blanket and a pacifier, Henry begins to grow restless. As she picked up a snack for him, another idea crossed her mind.

“We should get something for Jack, too,” she thought aloud. “LEGOs. He loves LEGOs. And some gummy bears.”

A sudden ringing startles everyone.

“Ssssshhhhhhh,” Garcia commands as she puts the phone on speaker. “It’s Y/N! Quiet!”

“Hello my angel dear,” she lilts, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m very tired, but otherwise happy and healthy,” you report. “Is everyone with you?”

“We’re all here,” JJ chimes in.

“Hi everyone!” You reply. “In that case, I have news. The nurses have said that we’re allowed to have visitors first thing in the morning, if you’d like to see our newest addition.”

“Oh, wild horses could not keep us away, ma’am.” Penelope assures. “We’ll see you all bright and early.”

“Not too early, Penny,” you remind her. “You gotta give me a chance to wake up first.”

“Right, sooooo 10am then?”

“It’s a date.”

——————————————————————————

That evening, you soaked up as much family time as possible before the wave of visitors began. Aaron was a natural, as you’d known he would be from seeing him with Jack.

Watching him with the baby was quickly becoming your favorite pastime. The look of sheer enchantment on his face as he held her close and rocked her made you fall a little more in love with him every moment.

“Daddy loves you so much,” he coos to the tiny bundle in his arms.

“What?” he questions as he catches you watching.

“Oh nothing,” you reply, ruffling Jack’s hair as he slept by your side. “Just wondering how I got so lucky.”

“I think it’s me who got lucky. I thought I’d never love again. I was so closed off. I was prepared to spend the rest of my life as a single dad, doing everything on my own. Now,” he chokes out, “now I’d fall apart without you.”

“Good thing you’ve got two of us now to keep you boys in line then,” you return with a wicked grin. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger already.”

——————————————————————————

When you awoke the next morning, you were greeted by the most beautiful sight. Aaron still asleep in the recliner next your bed, his arm cradling the sleeping baby on his chest. While you hated to disturb the peaceful scene, you knew the team would be arriving as soon as the clock struck 10.

“Aaron,” you whisper. “Aaron, wake up,” slightly louder this time. He stirs awake, moving slowly so as not to wake the sleeping child.

“What is it babe?”

“The team will be here soon,” you inform him.

“Ah. I should go get ready,” he replies.

“Mama, can I hold her while dad gets ready?” Jack asks, startling the both of you.

“Oh buddy, I didn’t realize you were awake,” you say to him. “Of course you can hold her if you want.”

Jack scrambled into your lap as Aaron rounded the bed.

“Just be really careful with her bud,” Aaron reminds him as he settles the baby on his lap.

“I will dad,” he replies.

As Aaron walked away, the baby’s eyes fluttered open and she let out a small cry.

“Here, why don’t you give her a pacifier?” you suggest.

“Sssshhhh, don’t cry,” he says, giving her the pacifier, and then softly stroking her head.

“What do you think about your baby sister, Jack?”

“She’s pretty, Mama, just like you.”

“Thank you baby,” you reply. “That’s very sweet. I love you.”

“I love you too, mama.”

“And I love you all,” Aaron adds.

——————————————————————————

A short while later, a knock at the door alerts you that your visitors have arrived.

“You ready for this?” Aaron asks as he walks to the door.

“I’ve never been more ready. I just know they’re gonna be so in love with her.”

Aaron opens the door and the team flows in with their myriad of gifts.

Penelope hands off her bouquet of balloons to Derek and rushes over to hug you.

“Oh Y/N,” she gushes, cupping your face. “You look beautiful. It’s so good to see you, we were all worried sick.”

“Thank you Penny,” you reply, eyeing the room. “I’m assuming the shopping spree was your idea.”

“Oh shush woman,” she scolds. “You deserve it. We wanted your room to cozy and pretty because we heard you’re going to be here for a while. Sue us.”

“Thank you all for the gifts, you really didn’t have to do any of that,” you reply, tearing up as you address the whole room. “Just being there for us when we needed you the most was all we could ask for and you’ve gone above and beyond.”

“This is the least we could do, really,” JJ assures, softly rubbing your hand.

“Oh fine, be modest if you insist,” you reply with an eye roll. “I’d open all the gifts now, but I imagine you’re all much more interested in our slightly earlier than anticipated arrival.”

Seemingly for the first time since they came in, everyone notices Aaron’s presence and the little pink bundle in his arms.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” you continue, “the announcement you’ve all been waiting for. Introducing Miss Savannah Rose.”

“What a lovely name,” Emily chimes in.

“Thank you,” Aaron cuts in. “We would have told you all sooner but we actually just decided on it while we were here,” he says beaming down at his perfectly content infant daughter. “You can all hold her if you like.”

“I’m sure we’d all love to,” JJ replies, “but i think we should leave that you for now. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to spoil her rotten just as soon as she gets home.”

“Right! We just wanted to check on everyone and make sure you have everything you need,” Garcia adds.

“Well thanks to you guys, I think our hospital room is pretty well stocked. I just wish I could say the same for the nursery,” you say with a shrug.

“What’s wrong with the nursery?” Rossi inquires.

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Aaron admits. “Between me traveling so much for work and Y/N being pregnant and taking care of Jack, it got pushed to the wayside. I thought we had a bit more time.”

“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you it’s not your fault?” you soothe, reaching for his hand. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“I know, I just wanted everything to be perfect for you.”

“It already is dear,” you assure him with a smile. “Why don’t you go get some coffee, you look exhausted.”

“Good idea babe,” he says, settling the baby into your arms.

“I could use a cup myself,” Morgan adds.

——————————————————————————

“Derek, I need your help,” Aaron pleads, once out of earshot of the room.

“Of course man, anything you need.”

“We’re going to be in the hospital for about a week while Y/N recovers and I’m desperate to have a nice nursery for her when we get home, but I obviously can’t leave her alone. I know it’s a lot to ask, but is there anything you could do to help?”

“Sure thing man, don’t worry about it. That’s the best gift I could hope to give you.”

“You’re the best,” Aaron replies, slapping him on the shoulder. “Just don’t let Y/N find out, okay? I want it to be a surprise.”

“My lips are sealed,” Derek promises.

——————————————————————————

That afternoon Derek had the whole team assembled in the nursery to get started.

“Alright everyone,” he begins, “We’ve got one week to make this the best surprise gift possible. Let’s make it happen.”

“What color should we paint it?” Penelope inquires.

“Got that covered already,” Derek replies while opening a paint can. “Purple. Hotch said it’s Y/N’s favorite color.”

“Oh Derek, it’s perfect!” she squealed, squeezing him tight. “She’s gonna adore it.”

“While the two of us are painting,” Penny addresses the group, “why don’t the rest of you do some some shopping?”

“Great idea, baby girl.” Morgan chimes in. “I think they’ve got the basics from the baby shower and I saw a crib and changing table in the garage, but I’m sure you guys can find things they’re missing.”

“Oh I think we’ve got this,” JJ states confidently. “Let’s get this show on the road,” she commands, herding Emily, Rossi, and Reid out the door.

When the group arrived back at the Hotchner house several hours later, the nursery walls were covered in a soft shade of lavender; as were Morgan and Garcia.

“I don’t know how you two managed to get any paint on the walls,” JJ said with a grin.

“Smile for the camera, you two,” Emily cuts in, snapping a picture on her phone as the couple hug and smile in their paint splattered clothes.

——————————————————————————

The next day conversation flowed as team was busily assembling furniture. Rossi, Reid, and Morgan worked on the crib while Penny, Emily, and JJ tackled the changing table.

“Let me know if you ladies need any help,” Morgan mentions casually.

“Oh right,” Emily grumbles, “because OBVIOUSLY the women need a big, strong man’s help, right?”

“I didn’t say that,” Derek counters. “I was just offering.”

“Oh not only will we get ours done without your help, we’ll get it done faster,” Emily challenges.

“Oh yeah?”

“YEAH!” all three women reply in unison.

“You’re on,” Morgan accepts.

“Oh you’re so going down,” Penny taunts, throwing pieces of plastic wrapping at Derek.

“Losers buy sushi for lunch?” Rossi suggests.

“Oh that could be pretty expensive for you Dave,” JJ comments. “You sure you’re up for that?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Rossi says, rolling his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

Two hours later, as JJ and Emily were finishing up the crib, the men came dragging in, arms full of takeout bags.

“Say cheese!” Penelope squeals as she takes their picture. “For the bragging rights.”

——————————————————————————

The next days were spent putting the finishing touches on the room.

A purple gradient butterfly mobile above the crib from JJ.

A bookshelf with a fully stocked library, specially selected by Reid. Emily places her floral covered photo album on top.

Lavender curtains with a shimmery overlay, Penelope’s contribution.

Derek’s stuffed bunny, carefully laid in a white gliding chair with purple cushions, which was generously paid for by Dave.

Derek lays a soft shag rug over the hardwood floor and drapes a plush floral blanket over the edge of the crib.

“I think that about does it, guys,” he says with a look of pride.

“You know, I bought them that photo album,” Emily comments, “it would be a shame if we didn’t put a few in there as a gift.”

“Yeah, but how do we get a picture of the whole group?” JJ wonders out loud.

“We could set a timer,” Penelope suggests.

“Yeah, but who sets the timer?” Reid asks, as he turns to see the whole group looking at him.

“Seriously guys?”

Between the camera falling over, closed eyes, and Spence not making it back before the timer, it took a few tries before there was a good group shot.

“And now a funny one,” Penny insists.

Once the photos, including the bloopers, have been printed and arranged in the album, JJ makes sure to write descriptions for each in the margins before setting it back on the shelf.

“Good job team,” Derek announces. “Our work here is done.”

——————————————————————————

After all the chaos surrounding the birth and a full week in the hospital, nothing felt better than standing at the door of your house with the love of your life and your two beautiful children.

“You ready to finally get some rest, baby?” Aaron asks as he ushers you inside the house, one solid arm arm around the small of your back and Savannah in her carrier on the other.

“Yeah,” you sigh, dropping your purse on the coffee table and slipping off your shoes. “I just wish we didn’t still have to worry about the nursery,” you groan, plopping down onto the sofa.

“About that,” Aaron says with a mischievous grin, offering you his free hand.

“What are you up to, Aaron Hotchner?” You muse as he leads you down the hallway.

“Just trust me,” he assures, coming to a halt in front of the nursery door. “Close your eyes,” he requests.

“What is going on here?” you inquire again.

“Just close your eyes please, darling,” he asks. “For me.”

“Alright, alright,” you comply, “this better be good.”

“Don’t open them until I say so, okay?”

“Yes sir.”

With eyes closed and Jack close by your side, you hear the door open and the rustling of paper inside the room.

“Alright,” he whispers, sliding his arm around your shoulders. “Open your eyes.”

—————————————————————————

Taglist: @ange-must-die @agent-laufeyson @poetsacademia @hotchners-slut @arganfics @ladyreapermc @rousethemouse @less-intelligent-spencerreid @tgibstan @themanip @word-scribbless @quillvine @glizzieborden @miss-united-ace @samayoshito @hotchnerundercover @pedropascalian @thenewnormalforensicator @crowdedimagines @sagittarianwolf @kleff03

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers Lunatic Parade Special Pamphlet Short Story: The 12 Vampires and the Magic Lamp [ENG Translation]

Original title: １２人のヴァンパイアと魔人のランプ

Source: Diabolik Lovers Lunatic Parade Limited Edition Special Pamphlet

Summary: After the Parade has come to an end, Yui receives a special ‘Magic Lamp’ from Count Walter’s butler which can be used to grant a single wish. As she tries to refuse the gift, the Sakamaki, Mukami and Tsukinami brothers promptly stop her and begin to fight over who has the right to use this valuable treasure. She escapes, but the boys chase her around the city, each of them determined to have their own wish granted. ーー And so, their game of tag begins.

“Chichinashi! Where are you hidin’!?”

“Oooi~ Bitch-chan~! Be a good girl and show yourself?”

With the Parade having come to an end, Ayato-kun and Laito-kun’s voices echo through a now quiet and nearly deserted Glimmer Street. While hiding in the shadow of the buildings, a sof sigh fell from my lips. 

“...What to do? I have to hurry and go to Bernstein Castle...”

Right now, I am on the run not only from Ayato-kun and Laito-kun, but from a total of 12 different Vampires. 

All of this happened because I obtained the golden, shimmering ‘magic lamp’ I’m currently holding in my hands.

ーー It happened after I managed to regain my heart with everyone’s help.

As I was about to leave this city to return to the Human World, I was approached by a butler working for Count Walter. He handed me this ‘Magic Lamp’ as an apology for the trouble his Master had caused me. According to what I was told, it is an extremely valuable treasure which will grant any one wish.

Furthermore...The Sakamaki, Mukami and Tsukinami brothers were there to witness the whole ordeal.

“I just can’t accept something so valuable. ...I’ll give this back to you, okay?”

As I said that in hope of returning to Bernstein castle afterwards, they stopped me in disbelief. 

And then claimed that if I did not want it, they would use it instead. ...This resulted into a fight and before they knew it, I had made a run for it, taking the lamp with me.

ーー And that is how our game of tag started.

I am not quite sure what everyone would wish for, but I believe we don’t need this thing if it can fulfill one person’s wish only.

“Heeh...So that’s your reasoning. Well, I’m pretty sure it’s useless though...”

“ーー S-Shuu-san...!?”

“Not just Shuu. I’m here too. Geez, you really made us go through the trouble of lookin’ for you.”

When I raised my head, Subaru-kun was standing next to me as well. ...No, it wasn’t just the two of them. All of the Sakamaki brothers had gathered, from Ayato-kun and Laito-kun whom I believed had walked past me earlier, to Kanato-kun and even Reiji-san. 

“Hehe...You’re pretty desperate, Subaru.”

“I mean, Subaru-kun’s going to wish for Bitch-chan to fall head over heels in love with him, right~? No wonder he’s so desperate, nfu~”

“D-Don’t be makin’ up lies! My wish is a new coffin!”

“All I want...is to live surrounded by an endless amount of sweets!”

“In that case, I’m gonna wish for a huge load of takoyaーー No, actually, might not be bad to have Chichinashi turned into a Chichiari*.”

--> チチアリ or ‘Chichiari’ would be the opposite of ‘Chichinashi’, literally meaning ‘to have boobs’.

“Eh!? M-Me...!?”

“You can’t, Ayato-kun. I’ll be one turning Bitch-chan into a voluptuous, young woman after all~*”

--> He literally describes it as a ナイスバディのオネーサン or ‘Nice body no Onee-san’. Onee-san is used to refer to women who are older than you are but since Laito-kun is only 17 in human years, it would apply to a girl in her early 20s as well.

“G-Geez! Cut it out, you two...!”

“...You guys really came up with some bullshit. If it can grant any wish, I’d make it so the Old Man never bothers me again...Pwaah...”

And so, they began to slowly close in on me. The very moment they reached for the lamp, Reiji-san - who had been the only one remaining quiet so far - suddenly raised his voice.

“Would you care explain this to me? ...Because you kept touching the lamp with those sweaty palms, there are now fingerprints all over it! Come on, it is not too late yet! Put these on at once!”

While frantically shouting at me, he threw a pair of white gloves my way. Surprised by his menacing look, I put them on as asked, and Reiji-san finally nodded his head in agreement. 

“I am disappointed...Do none of you grasp the true value of this lamp?”

“Haah? Are we really not allowed to touch it with our bare hands...?”

“It looks pretty normal from the outside though~ I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a similar example in Kanato-kun’s room...?”

“Yes. ...Well, that one isn’t capable of granting wishes though.”

Reiji-san sighed deeply at Ayato-kun, Latio-kun and Kanato-kun’s consecutive comments.

“...Only two of these ‘magic lamps’ exist in this world, making them very valuable from a historic point of view. Furthermore, the lamp may disappear once it has granted one’s wish, therefore it revolts me you lot are even considering putting it to use...”

While the other guys seemed little interested in Reiji-san’s emotion-laden speech, he once again spoke up.

“Well, I doubt you will ever understand.  ーー Especially you, whom I did not expect to even join us in the first place...”

“...Shut up. Who cares?”

Shuu-san calmly brushed off Reiji-san’s taunt as if it was nothing. 

“Hehe...Seems like he doesn’t give a shit ‘bout what you say.”

“Fufu, take a look at that frustrated expression on Reiji’s face. ...This might be the most interesting thing I’ve seen in quite some time.”

“Geez, cut it out you two~ Don’t you feel bad for Reiji~?”

“Feel bad? ...Hehe. Pretty sure your words hurt even more.”

The other four brothers who had been listening in on their conversation continued to chuckle...Which eventually caused Shuu-san to burst out laughing as well.

Seems like this sight dealt a pretty hefty blow to Reiji-san’s pride, as he stood there shaking violently from sheer anger.

I better make a run for it before things take a turn for the worse...

I used the fact they had suddenly completely forgotten about me to my advantage, and left the place at once.

“...Phew. Thank god. Seems like they didn’t notice.”

I eventually found myself on Aizen Alley, one of the streets located in the very back of Glimmer street. To be honest, I wasn’t too thrilled about having to pass through there, but if I wanted to head to the castle while avoiding Ayato-kun and the others, I had no other choice. 

“Hehe...Too bad. You can’t escape us First Bloods.”

“Hand over that lamp you are holding at once.”

I gasp at the voices resounding from the darkness. Those who appeared were Shin-kun and Carla-san.

“I-I can’t do that...! I believe it is wrong to use the lamp for one’s own selfish pursuits...”

“If we give it back, it’ll just get thrown into some old, dusty storage room, right? In that case, I’m pretty sure the lamp would be happier to have someone use it as well?”

“B-But...”

“Come on, don’t hesitate. You’re keeping Nii-san waiting as well. Can’t you hurry up?”

“...T-Then, what would you wish for, Shin-kun?”

While snorting at my desperate question, he answered with a smile.

“That should be obvious. I’d make sure those filthy Vampires disappear off the face of the Demon World at onーー”

“ーー No. We want cured ham.”

“N-Nii-san...?”

“We shall change all food in this world to cured ham. That is my...No, the dearest wish of all First Bloods.”

“R-Right...”

Carla-san would blurt that out with a straight face. It is the very definition of a selfish wish but I wonder if Shin-kun is truly okay with it? ...I look over at Shin-kun while wondering that, seeing him look at Carla-san in utter defeat.

“...Well then, woman. Hand it over right now.”

“You’re actually hoping to fulfill that wish...!?”

“Yes, of course.”

All food in this world will turn into cured ham...That is just simply pushing it one step too far. It pains me to have to deceive him...But I decided to tell a certain lie.

“H-Have you already had the chance to try the cured ham galette which is said to be this city’s speciality...?”

“...Pardon?”

“It’s a limited edition galette which is available at stores only after the Parade has ended. While passing by the shops earlier, I noticed that only very few were left, so I figured I would inform you just in case...”

While there was no guaranteeing he would believe me, I wanted to make Carla-san forget about the lamp, even if just for a few minutes. With that sole purpose in mind, I continued my act.

“...Let us go, Shin. Just leave this woman be.”

“W-Wait, Nii-san! You’re just going to believe her on her word!?”

“We will know whether she was speaking the truth or not once we get to the shop. Even if she had been lying, capturing a human woman is child’s play to me. However, if she has been speaking the truth...”

“If we don’t hurry, they’ll run out of cured ham galettes, right? ...Right, I understand.”

Realizing there was no point in trying to reason with him, Shin-kun reluctantly trailed behind Carla-san as they left. 

I truly am sorry...While internally apologizing to both of them, I headed towards my desitation. 

“Haah...I can finally see it in the distance...”

Some time after I bid farewell with the Tsukinami brothers, I finally got close to Bernstein castle.

“Oh no...I can’t approach the castle like this...”

After all, four familiar figures were standing lined up by the castle’s gate. Those are the Mukami brothers...Of course, with Ruki-kun standing in the middle. As to be expected of a strategist like him. If I wanted to return the lamp to its owner, I would have to make it back here eventually. They were one step ahead of me.

“Eve...Found you...”

“...!! A-Azusa-kun!?”

When I timidly turned around at the voice suddenly calling for me from behind, Azusa-kun - who was talking to Ruki-kun and the others up until seconds ago - suddenly stood right in front of me. 

“Ahー M-neko-chan! So this is where you’ve been~!”

“Che...Ya sure took yer sweet time. You’re damn late, Sow!”

“...Calm down, you guys. If we make too much of a ruckus, we’ll attract the attention of the others.”

When I raised my voice, it caught everyone’s attention and without a chance to slip away, I was soon surrounded by the four Mukami brothers.

“I’m sorry, guys. But I won’t hand over this lamp to anyone...!”

After jumping the gun like that, Ruki-kun let out a disappointed sigh.

“...Seems like you have got the wrong idea. I simply want to look after the lamp for you.”

“Eh...? You don’t want to use it to grant your own wish?”

“Of course not. If a Vampire such as myself holds on to the lamp, it will decrease the chances of one of the other guys stealing it.”

“You say that buuuut~ ...Ruki-kun, aren’t you actually hoping to use that lamp to renovate our manor~?”

“Your own exclusive study room off-limits for anyone else, and a play room filled with nothing but chess boards...Hehe, as to be expected of Mr. Eldest son.”

“Kuh...! Don’t assume such things. All I want to do is to make the home we have received from that man the most comfortable for you all to live in...!”

While Ruki-kun chuckles sarcastically after his true intentions are exposed by his siblings, Azusa-kun reached out for me.

“Listen, Eve...The four of us talked it out and...We’ve decided to use the lamp together with Ruki as our representative...”

“Ruki-kun’s so mean, you know~! I was actually going to wish for a hundred year’s worth of Vongole Bianco.” 

“I was gonna ask for the power to manipulate the weather...But my idea got shot down at once. ...Haah...And here I thought I could make field work a lil’ easier on myself...”

“I just want to be with Eve so...I didn’t really have any particular wishes...”

“Is that so...? It’s really admirable of you all to hold back on your own desires.”

Even though the younger brothers were voicing their complaints, it didn’t seem like they were going to force their own wishes through. I’m sure it is because Ruki-kun intends to make a wish which benefits the whole family, as the deep bond of trust between the four brothers somehow made me feel warm inside.

However...That still does not mean I will give them the lamp. 

“Uhm, you see...It just doesn’t sit right with me to only have one person’s wish granteーー!?”

The second I felt as if something was closing on me, a large sound resounded from the nearby buildings before they collapsed.

“...!? This magic...”

“The Tsukinami’s...perhaps? Look, over there...!”

“Ugeh! They look hella pissed off! Did ya do somethin’!?”

“Uu...W-Well...”

I could feel my heart drop at Yuma-kun’s words. Carla-san and Shin-kun must be upset about the lie I ended up telling them back then...

“Say, what should we do!? At this rate, we’ll all be turned to dust...!”

Kou-kun’s exclamation made me panic as I rushed towards the two brothers. Either way, I just had to apologize as quickly as possible...However, I was stopped by the Sakamaki brothers before I could reach them.

“You’ve got nowhere to run now...Oi, hand me the lamp already!”

“What are you saying, Subaru? I will be using the lamp. You’re in the way!”

“Hell no! I’m gonna have my wish granted!”

“Ehー Let me have the honor for once~ We can only use it once and my wish is obviously the best.”

Shuu-san joins in a little late as well and before I know it, the Sakamaki, Mukami and Tsukinami brothers are all gathered just like when we started off.

Glares were being exchanged here and there as a hostile atmosphere fills the air. I can no longer stop them all by myself. In that case, I will have to rely on an outer source to back me up. I didn’t want to use the lamp to have a wish granted but...This is the only way to stop their fight.

While rubbing the side of the lamp, I spoke up with a loud voice.

“Release lanterns into the sky once more!”

White smoke emitted from the lamp and soon after ー Poof! The lamp disappeared with a popping sound. 

When I look up at the sky, I once again witness the same magical sight of countless lanterns floating through the sky, just like they did a few hours ago. ...At some point, their quarreling voices had gone quiet as well. 

“You...Haah. You really are a foolish woman.”

“Ya really think we’re happy with this crap? Geez. Ya really used the lamp for some useless shit...”

“...Eh...?”

Shuu-san and Yuma-kun’s remarks catch me off guard as I froze on the spot.

“...Livestock, seems like you did not grasp the true value of that lamp.”

“Exactly...To think a great hidden treasure of the Demon World has been lost over such a ridiculous wish...!”

Ruki-kun and Reiji-san voiced their complaints as well.

“B-But...! All of you were moved by the lanterns, no...?”

I frantically reached out for the others, hoping that at least one of them would agree with me. ...That was all I wished for, yet...

“I mean, sure? But to be honest, I didn’t need to see it a second time...”

“...I’d hate to have to agree with a mere Vampire...But I’ll admit that Kou is right this one time. You feel the same, don’t you, Nii-san?”

“...My cured ham...”

“Too bad, Shin-san...Seems like Carla-san can’t hear you right now...”

“Ah-aah...I was looking forward to seeing a sexy Bitch-chan as well~”

“Me too. I was already making plans for which sweet I would try first...!”

“Fuck! There goes my plan of gettin’ a coffin in which nobody can bother me...!”

All I got in return were negative responses and sighs.

“...Guess I’ve got no other choice then! Oi, Chichinashi! Let me suck your blood to make up for it!”

“W-Wait! That’s way too sudden...!”

“Shut up! That’s the only thing which can calm this anger inside of me!”

While Ayato-kun closed in, I looked around me in search of someone to save me, but all I could see were a bunch of eyes glaring at me from the darkness. At this rate, they will all take my blood. ...There is no way I would come out of that alive. Realizing I had to make a run for it...I dashed away at full-speed.

“Ah! Wait, M-neko-chan!!”

“Geez, Bitch-chan! I’m not scary though~!”

The many lanterns floating through the night sky was a sight to behold, but unfortunately, I did not have the leaway to enjoy that right now. After all, I had to flee from their approaching footsteps and voices calling out for me as soon as possible.

I didn’t want them to fight and while I never expected them to become friends, I wished they would at least try and be on neutral terms with each other. 

That wish was most definitely granted. Right now, they had put the strained relationship between the different families aside to join forces.

However, knowing their shared goal is my blood...doesn’t make me happy at all.

ーー The Demon World’s Parade safely came to an end, but my night had only just begun.

ーー END ーー

[bewitchedbodyandsol]

If I Were Not Myself

Description: Reader is a mandalorian from Din’s covert who was manipulated into taking off her helmet. HEAVILY based on Pierre and Natasha from Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. Takes place before the child (bc age reasons and character development has not happened). Trying to stay as close to the approximate ages in Great Comet/War and Peace, putting Din at 27 while reader is 19. 

 Notes: Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 makes me absolutely mad. The only spoken lines in the musical and it makes my heart shatter. Okay, I don’t think Din would be as courteous towards a dar’manda as I write him but also like, this is a Din/Pierre hybrid, so. And yes I know that based on these ages Toro Calican would have barely been born, but um, yeah <3. IT’S MY FIC AND I CAN DO WHAT I WANT.  Also, this is my first time writing and posting fan fiction so um, yeah <3

Word Count: 2.9K

Rating: G

Tags/warnings: Thoughts of death (in an almost philosophical way). fem!reader Dar’manda!reader, war and peace au? No use of y/n, slightest hint of Toro Callican x reader and Paz x Reader (like they’re mentioned), age gap

If I were not myself,

But the brightest,

Handsomest,

Best man on earth,

And if I were free,

I would get down on my knees,

This minute,

And ask you for your hand.

And for your love.

The mandalorians-the mandalorian and the dar’manda, stood in front of each other. The air still. When he had initially seen her he ran towards her, he stopped less than a foot away and reached a hand out to her, but instead of taking his outstretched hand like he had expected, she slowly moved past him. She put an awkward amount of distance between the two. The gap between them too large for how friendly they normally were, while anything closer seemed too overwhelming. Din knew he had to stay far enough away to keep himself from completely engulfing the girl in an embrace, fists curling at his sides to stop himself from reaching out to her again. 

---- 

Din had known the young woman her entire life, for she was born shortly after he had been taken in as a foundling. While all families in the covert were friendly with one another, theirs had been especially close. And they had been especially fond of each other. The age difference caused them to participate in different activities and talk with different social groups but did not stop them from interacting completely. In fact, the two mandalorians had grown to be close friends. The young girl confided in Din about her newest crush on the covert while he doted on her for it and she would laugh at the gruff noises he made while being teased by peers, watching him try to act tough while knowing he would huff and puff to her about it later. 

He had watched her grow, from a nervous young girl who stood in the middle of a room filled with people simply to make them listen to her sing, to a young woman who knew how to carry herself and gain the attention of her peers from sheer presence. At the same time, the girl watched Din grow from a flustered teenage boy to a closed off young man who became more and more stoic with each passing visit. 

As the years went on the two became distant, caught up in the paths life had put them on. Din started running with Ran’s crew, his visits to the covert became few and far between, while she had stayed and chose to act as a nurse for the foundlings. Their friendship seemingly evaporated, dissolved to nothing but pleasantries. The young woman noticed the growing weight on her dear friend’s shoulders, but was unknowing of the whirlwind he found himself caught in. His growing reputation, worrisome discoveries he made about himself, and the insatiable twi’lek girl he had gotten tangled with. 

During his last visit home, Din had introduced the young woman to his friend Paz Vizsla. The two had known of each other for quite some time but had never formally been introduced, and quickly after he acquainted them Din felt a shift in the air, as if he was intruding on something he was not meant to see. He had not expected the pair to become so infatuated with one another. Aware of Paz’s past, the hardships he faced, losing not only a wife but a child at a young age, and the battles he fought; and the young woman’s naivete, having rarely left the covert herself and her general lack of life experience. So when he heard that they planned to wed, he had been surprised to say the least. 

That had only been one year ago. A year, and yet so much had changed. Din truly had not planned on a return home for quite some time. While he had been on the planet for a while, as the crew had a job that stationed them there, he had not planned on visiting the covert. As he had no obligations to do so, prior to the holo he had received from the girl's aunt in which she explained the situation to him and pleaded for him to return. She explained how the girl had broken off her engagement to Paz and made plans to run away with Toro Calican, whom she had only known for a few days, instead. Din had heard of Calican before and had even had the ‘pleasure’ of meeting him once, he found the suave young man obnoxious and to be nothing but trouble. Oh but what angered him the most about the young man, was seeing his own worst qualities reflected right back at him. His fears and flaws were flaunted by the young mercenary. When Din heard it was Calican the girl had become involved with, he didn’t even have time to think before it had slipped past his lips that the young man himself was married, and unlike Paz his wife was still alive. The girl’s aunt had begged him to return to scare Calican off the planet and to attempt to speak some sense into the girl. But when Din had returned it had been too late, she had revealed her face to an already married man, and unknowingly to her, his friends as well. Leaving her dar’manda. 

--- 

It felt almost inappropriate to stand in front of her in this state. With her lack of armor and helmet, she might as well have been naked from a cultural standpoint. She stood in the middle of the room in her thermals. Her beskar had been stripped from her, no doubt to be given to someone more deserving, a foundling most likely. Her back towards him, Din noticed her arms hung still next to her, obviously too exhausted to even subconsciously twiddle the edges of her shirt like she used to do when she was a younger, more nervous girl. When she turned around and looked at him, it felt like she could see into his soul. The helmet prevented her from looking him in the eyes, but having worn a helmet herself and interacting with so many others who did the same, she easily knew where his were hidden behind the mask. And when he looked into her eyes, Din could see the weight of the galaxy crashing down on her. 

“Din Djarin.” She tested out his name. And something in him shattered. No one had referred to him by name in so long, simply referring to him as ‘mando’, but Din Djarin was not the name she had used the last time he saw her. No, she had simply called him Din. The sudden change in formality made tense, as he took a second to respond. “Din” He took a breath and corrected her. It wasn’t until the girl’s face shot down did he realize he had started leaning forward, his weight shifted to the balls of his feet, left hand flexing at his side. 

He hadn’t seen her face in six years. No one had. Like most in the covert the young girl had sworn the creed promptly at the age of 13. After swearing the creed she had grown into herself, the young nervous girl Din had become friends with was replaced by a confident young woman. A skilled fighter and diplomat, yet as charming and giddy as ever. He could only imagine how she had grown ever more captivating as time went on. Din had never thought it to be a shame if a beautiful face was hidden behind a wall of beskar, his religion more important than simple vanity, and yet. As he saw her face on full display, he understood. Understood how someone who had become so enamored by the girl could do such a selfish thing, ask her to take off her helmet. 

“Vizsla was, Vizsla is your friend.” She corrected herself. Her ex-fiancé had fought in a far off battle for so long she had developed the bad habit of assuming him dead. Once again, the girl’s sudden formality was not lost on Din, referring to her ex fiancé as Vizsla rather than her usual endearing Paz. “He once told me that I should turn to you.” 

He had always reproached dar’mandas, finding them to be less than. Thought they had already shown themselves to be unworthy of the mandalorian title and armor if they could so easily take it off. That it took a truly weak man to break from The Way, from a people that loved fiercely and unconditionally. He wanted so badly to despise her. To give her the same scowl and acid laced words he might anyone else. But there was something about the way the young woman held her head. As if, even though she no longer had her helmet, she still did not want her face to be shown, and at that any chance of reproach towards her had died. Instead it was replaced by a feeling of pity. He had wanted to believe he felt nothing but pity for her, but he knew that wasn’t right. There was something else, something he was unable to place. 

“He’s returned. When you see him… Can you please tell him to, please tell him to forgive me.” She moved as if she meant to wring her hands, but when her fingertips found skin instead of leather gloves, they quickly shot back down to her sides. 

“Yeah, I’ll-I’ll tell him.” Din’s throat tightens as he recalls his conversation with Paz. How his friend returned from battle only to hear of his fiancé having an affair, removing her helmet in front of people who were not her riduur or ade. Recalling Paz’s posture, his voice almost malicious yet so pained when he said he could not forgive the girl of her actions. How the image of Paz, a man Din looked up to, had been shattered with a few simple words. “But-” 

“I know everything’s over, that chance of anything is gone.” Her head shot up, as if she had read his mind, anticipated his words. “But still, I’m haunted by what I’ve done, what I’ve done to him. Tell him please, to forgive me. For everything.” 

“I’ll tell him to forgive you. I’ll tell him everything.” Din nodded, as he thought of his next words carefully. “I want to know one thing. Did you really love him? Did you love that bad man” His voice sounded hoarser than usual. 

“Don’t call him bad.” She spat out. “But I, I don’t know. I really don’t.” Though the speed of her response told Din her real answer. That in some said way, yes, she really had loved Toro Calican. The man who had pushed her farther than anyone else had, pushed the boundary most important to anyone who shared their creed. Pushed her to do something she had never previously thought about. So uncaring of consequences. And if she had not loved him, she at least still held strong feelings for him. For the man who had manipulated her.

The young woman turned away from Din and began to cry. And he could hear the dam of emotions she held back break in the sob she let out. He could do nothing but watch as she began to crumple in on herself. The same feeling of pity from earlier returned, but it was now accompanied by a tenderness he had become unfamiliar with and that same something he was still unable to place. Din felt the tears pool at his jaw before he was even able to comprehend that he had started to cry. Thankful for his helmet as it prevented anyone from seeing the tears that rolled down his cheek. 

“Hey, we don’t. We don’t have to talk about it anymore, ner vod.” The familiarity slipped out of his mouth, meant to comfort them both. He slowly made his way towards her, reached his hand out the same as he had done earlier. “But. I’m still, your friend. And if you ever need someone to talk to, or someone to open your heart to. Not now, but, when your mind is clear. Think of me.” 

Din grew confused.

He had no idea where any of this was coming from. Especially after her had become so closed off over the past few years. He had felt more in the past few minutes here with her, warm and tender feelings that he had not realized he so dearly missed, than he possibly had in years. And there it was, that feeling he had been unable to place, unable to give a name, coming to the surface. Love. He had always carried affection towards her, in one way or another, but this was different. Love, something he had started to wonder if he was incapable of. 

“Don’t talk to me like that.” She snapped. “I don’t, I don’t deserve it.” Came out softer, sadder, and she practically scurried away from the man. Like she truly believed it. 

“Stop! Stop. You have the rest of your life-” The first stop a command, the second a plea. The girl stopped, her back still faced him. 

“The rest of my life? My life is over.” The girl reached the doorway she had entered through earlier, a tight grip on the wall. 

“Over.” He repeated. Looking at the girl, he saw a reflection of himself. His fears and flaws hung heavy around the girl. The same horrible thoughts that had plagued his mind not so long ago. 

The knowledge that one was capable of hurting people doing bad things, the thought that death might be more accepting and caring fate. The fear that life had ended before it even began. But unlike when he had seen those same traits in Toro Calican, who wore them with pride, he saw the same level of fear in the young woman that he had felt. 

And suddenly, everything stopped. 

“If I were not myself.” 

The young woman froze at his words. Din had not even registered that he was speaking until he had finished. 

“But the brightest, handsomest

Best man in the galaxy” 

Din had done bad things. Din had done bad things and enjoyed doing them. He had dangerous thoughts, dangerous intentions, and a dangerous way of life. He knew he was still not the man he needed to be. So much to improve upon before even thinking of settling down with someone, let alone the young woman in front of him. Though she was not perfect either, not the woman he knew she was capable of becoming, but he still thought she was deserving of perfection. 

“And If I were free-” His throat threatened to close. 

The Xi’an of it all was, Din was not in the position to be offering his love to someone else. And while they were not the ideal couple, he was still tied to her. He had his suspicions that the twi’lek girl might have been seeing other men along with him, but it did not stop him from remaining faithful to the girl. Along with the weight of his relationship on his heart, was the beskar lock he kept tight on it. His creed, the most important thing in his life. What he held himself to above all else. She was dar’manda, while he was not. A fact he could not simply ignore. Any hopes of a relationship between the two had been destroyed when she revealed herself. But he could not stop himself from loving her, from wishing he could do this one thing for her. 

“I would get down on my knees this minute 

And ask you for your hand” His voice strained. It could truly be that simple, they could be married in the matter of seconds. Vows exchanged, tied to each other for the rest of their lives. It was something he had never dreamed of, but as he stood in front of the young woman now. There was nothing he wanted more. 

“And for your love” 

The young woman turned around.

And reality comes crashing down. 

She makes her way over to him faster than Din thought safe for someone in her state. Her breaths jagged as she tries to control her tears. Tenderness replacing the earlier weight in her eyes. 

His breath hitches when her hand touches the cheek of his helmet. But he lets her, trusting her single hand to not make any bold moves, knowing the girl would not dare to lift the helmet off his head, to damn him to the same fate she had damned herself. Din’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes closing behind his helmet as he leans into her hand. A tear rolls down his cheek. The young woman simply looks at the man in front of her. And she gives him the softest smile he has ever seen. 

“Oh Din,” she whispers. ‘Thank you’, she means to continue, but the words are caught in her throat, leaving her to simply mouth them instead. She lets her hand fall from his face and leaves the room, smiling. 

Din stands and watches her leave, trying to hold back any oncoming tears, and lets out a shaky breath. Realizing his job here is done, he turns around to leave. Bumping into the doorway on his way out, he takes a deep steady breath, and makes his way to the Razor Crest.

[amphibious-entity]

TMBS Book 1 Brain Dump

~An Embarrassingly Long Post~

I don’t know why I’m writing this or why I’m so determined to do it. Maybe to finally assume my true form and become a mega dork on main, or maybe just for fun!

This is basically a compilation of all the main points running through my head after reading The Mysterious Benedict Society (2007) for the first time. Rather than posting a ton and spamming the tag, everything’s here in one neat package! (hopefully this gets it all out of my system rip)

Contents:

The Book Itself

The Book Itself, for real this time

The Characters

A Funny Parallel

The S.Q. Section

Lines & Scenes I Liked

Spoilers abound!

The Book Itself

Upon acquiring the first three books (don’t judge me pls), I was surprised at just how long they are. Like, they’re still pretty light being paperbacks and all, but these books are hefty lads.

The first book has this Disney+ Original Series circle thing printed on it, which is kind of unfortunate. Regardless, I love the cover illustration and yellow is actually my favorite color :D It made me weirdly quite happy whenever I saw the book lying around in my room

Also, it’s really cute how there’s a letter from Mr. Benedict at the end! (It only reveals that you can find out his first name if you “know the code”, meaning the bit of Morse printed below the summary on the back.) Shock and horror, though, as I realized I’m starting to recognize some of the letters

The Book Itself, for real this time

It’s wonderful how the tone of the book really shone through to the show adaptation. Something about the deliberateness of the aesthetic, from the set designs to the fashion to scene compositions, that really sells that particular style— like it’s very clear that this story is being told to us, rather than one we’re seeing unfold, if that makes sense.

Where that narration style stood out to me the most was the first chapter. We are told (rather than shown) how Reynie gets himself to the point of the second test, and there’s this whole twisty time maneuver for that whole sequence of events that’s really interesting

A super secret fun fact about me is that I wanted to be a writer when I was younger! So this particular balance of show vs. tell is really neat, since it runs counter to my own tendencies. The sheer amount of commas in every sentence is also kind of comforting, since Ahah, I Do That in those few serious-ish attempts at writing lol

Overall this book’s style reminds me a lot of Roald Dahl’s books, which are very nostalgic for me :D The whole “kids are more competent than adults” angle helps a lot too haha

The Characters

Oh boy here’s where I get a little bit critical! Overall I did really like this book!! it’s just that that expresses itself in all this weird “”analysis”” lol

Reynie - much better in the books than in the show

It’s sort of a lukewarm take but I feel like show!Reynie is kind of boring? He doesn’t have a lot going on flaw-wise, and obviously since he’s the protagonist he can’t have too many weird traits or else the kids watching can’t project themselves onto him as easily

(I call it the difference between an aspirational protagonist and a vessel protagonist. Going off of the Roald Dahl vibes, think Matilda vs Charlie. show!Reynie is more of a Charlie)

Thus when we get to see him really struggle with the Whisperer and doubt himself it gives him a lot more dimension, at least in my opinion

It is a federal crime that the white knight scenes were not adapted into the show

Sticky - my son

I’ve long held to no one besides myself and my long suffering sister that Sticky is The Best Member of the Society

He happened to hit a lot of the Bingo squares of Stuff I Like In Characters: glasses, anxious, nice :), kind of a coward but ultimately is there for his friends, etc

For some reason I don’t talk about him nearly as much as you-know-who, but I love him just as dearly

Kate & Constance - I don’t have much to say

Kate is really interesting in this book! I like how we get to see more of her depths, in particular that one passage about her belief that she is invincible being the only thing that keeps her from falling apart? :c

Also her constant fidgeting is relatable lol

Constance is somehow a lot more tolerable in the book. I think I’m just one of those people with no patience for small children, unfortunately lol

(Some of) The Adults

It’s interesting that they had such an offscreen presence for most of the book. Giving them more time was probably one of the stronger changes of the show

However if that decision was made at the expense of the white knight scenes I think the choice should have been clear

I like the way Rhonda and Number Two are written

Milligan always on sad boy hours 😔✊

The “mill again” passage is touching but kind of messes up the pacing of the getaway, at least for me. Maybe I should read it again to make sure I didn’t miss something

Miss Perumal is much better in the show. We see so little of her in the book she doesn’t function well as an emotional anchor for Reynie, imo

The Institute Gang

Jackson and Jillson serve their purpose well, and Martina was surprising to say the least. I like the direction they took her in the show! I can’t imagine how funny it must have been to watch the tetherball subplot come out of nowhere lolol

These sections were written out of sequence, so random tidbit I couldn’t fit in The S.Q. Section: I like how he stumbles over his words. relatable

Mr. Curtain

While I think I know why they decided to not give Curtain the wheelchair in the show, we were totally robbed of Actor Tony Hale’s performance for the reveal during the final confrontation

Speaking of the wheelchair, it’s such a powerful symbol of his need for control or rather, his fear of losing it

The Contrast between him and Mr. Benedict. This point is expanded on in A Funny Parallel

Mr. Benedict

Oh boy, Mr. Benedict… How do I say this

I find it hard to trust Mr. Benedict, unfortunately

I mean to say, I do in the sense that I know he would never hurt the kids, thanks to knowing that a) this is a children’s book series and b) the meta (tumblr) states that he is really nice and lovable and stuff, but seriously. Why do the kids trust him at first?? I probably missed something somewhere

I like to think I’m an optimistic person, but unfortunately I’m also super paranoid. The premise of “a bunch of vulnerable orphans team up with a strange old man” is just so odd to me I don’t know how to explain it

I don’t know!!! I really want to trust Mr. Benedict

One of the strengths of the show is that we get to see him more often, and thus he gets to acknowledge more often that the plan is weird and that he feels really badly for putting the kids in danger and that he’s trustworthy and genuine

But his lack of presence for most of the book just makes him into something of a specter, invisible and unknowable, speaking only in riddles from across the bay

Which is why the white knight scene is so important!! I loved that scene ;-;

Because here’s an actual emotional connection! We can actually see it happening, rather than only being told that it exists

Reynie asking for advice and receiving encouragement, in words that demonstrate that Mr. Benedict actually cares about him and worries about him and agghh

It is a federal crime that the white knight scenes were not adapted into the show

But overall this whole issue didn’t ruin my enjoyment of the book at all! It’s just ->

A Funny Parallel

Okay, ready for my biggest brain, hottest take ever??

Mr. Benedict and Mr. Curtain…. are… the same

I mean obviously not entirely, given that one is benevolent and kind and the other is… Mr. Curtain

But seriously. Genius old man seeks out children (mainly orphans) to enact a plan. Said children often end up incredibly devoted to his cause and deeply admire him this is a little flimsy

Undoubtedly that’s intentional and is supposed to show the difference between them, like some kind of cautionary tale? “Let yourself be vulnerable and let others help you, lest you turn eeeeviiillll”

I guess that’s where the aforementioned epic contrast comes in. You get Mr. Curtain, strapped into his wheelchair and hiding behind those mirrored sunglasses, terrified (but unwilling to admit it) of ever showing the tiniest hint of vulnerability, vs. Mr. Benedict, who can let himself fall knowing that someone will catch him :’)

Anyhow I have nothing against the parallels, I just think it’s funny

The S.Q. Section

The S.Q. Quarantine Thread so it doesn’t leak out everywhere else <3

I’d like to meet the emo angstlord genius who read this book and decided to make SQ into Dr. Curtain’s son. What in the world

Okay I should probably preface this by saying that I absolutely adore both book!S.Q. and show!SQ with all my heart. Somehow, despite being a completely different character in both mediums, he has managed to be one of the best characters in either and certainly one of my favorites (besides Sticky of course) in the entire franchise, despite the fact that I’ve only read the first book/watched the show so far. I am confident in this statement.

But seriously! How?? Why?? I could probably write a whole other essay about why show!SQ is such an interesting character, and the change works so incredibly well. I’m just. Baffled

Okay, focus. book!S.Q. is such a sweetheart, oh my goodness. Like, 100% one of the most endearing characters in the book. Poor guy. I don’t even know where to start!!

He just seems to be a genuinely good guy at heart, despite being technically one of the bad guys. He’s genuinely happy for Reynie and Sticky when they became Messengers and helped Kate when she “fell” and was concerned about Constance when she looked sick and how he was in that meeting with Mr. Curtain and Martina?!!? aaahhhhghgh ;-; he just wants people to be happy TT-TT

Comparing him against literally every character at the Institute is probably what makes him so endearing tbh. When everyone else is so awful to the kids, it really makes him stand out. Like a cheerful little nightlight in the worst, most humid and rank bathroom you’ve ever been in

It’s kind of pointless to theorize about a book series that’s already concluded (I think?) but. Is the implication of S.Q.’s forgetfulness supposed to be that Mr. Curtain used him in brainsweeping experiments somehow? The timeline probably definitely absolutely doesn’t line up but like. How did he get to being a Messenger being the way he is now, given how cutthroat the process is? And then of course Mr. Curtain keeps him around as an Executive because he’s fun to mess with and presumably his loyalty. I’m very curious as to how their relationship develops in the other books, if at all. Those are probably where the seeds of the “let’s make them family” logic were planted

But wouldn’t it be hilarious if the reason we don’t know what “S.Q.” stands for in the books is that he just. Forgot

Another thing that occurred to me. Given that he and the other Executives were Messengers at some point, what were their worst fears? What is S.Q.’s worst fear?? Inquiring minds need to know

One last horrible little anecdote: I was thinking about book!S.Q. while eating breakfast, as one does, and suddenly it hit me.

I want to believe The Author Trenton Lee Stewart had the name for a character, S.Q. Pedalian, and was like, “Hm! What sort of quirky trait should this young fellow have?” Because, of course, in this style of fiction every character has to have at least one cartoonish or otherwise distinguishing trait to stand out in the minds of children. (For instance, Kate has her bucket, Sticky has his glasses, Constance is angry, and Reynie is Emmett from the Lego Movie)

Anyhow, he looks around the room, searching for inspiration. Suddenly he comes across a jumbo box of plastic wrap. Completely innocuous in design, save for one line of text. 300 SQ FT.

“…large… S.Q. …feet? THAT’S IT!” i’m sorry

Lines & Scenes I Liked

In no particular order!

Sticky quotes Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Evil combination aerobics/square dancing in the gym with the Executives

Everyone being happy at the end :’)

Everyone partying after Sticky reunites with his parents, and later finding Mr. Benedict asleep at his desk from the moment they shook hands :’’)

Literally any scene with Sticky in it

Any time Kate says “you boys” or “gosh”

[“Um, sir?” S.Q. said timidly, raising his hand. “A thought just occurred to me.” / Mr. Curtain raised his eyebrows. “That’s remarkable, S.Q. What is it?”] clown prince of my heart </3

S.Q.’s determined monologue about searching for clues after he bungled up the first time

Literally any scene with S.Q. in it (please refer to The S.Q. Section)

Reynie trying to resist the Whisperer.

[Let us begin. / First let me polish my spectacles, Reynie thought. / Let us begin. / Not without my bucket, Reynie insisted. He heard Mr. Curtain muttering behind him. / Let us begin, let us begin, let us begin. / Rules and schools are tools for fools, Reynie thought.]

NO MORE HURTIN’ WITH CURTAIN

Milligan showing up on the island!!

Remember the white knight hhhhhh

“controle”

A Super Secret Bonus Section

I would be extremely surprised if anyone read through all the way down here lol. Regardless, here’s a little acknowledgements section :D not tagging anyone since I don’t want to bother all of these people

Special shoutout to tumblr blog stonetowns for unknowingly yet singlehandedly demolishing my reluctance to read the books by posting a ton of cute quotes. Thank you for your service o7

Thanks to the two OGs that liked the post I made right before this one, for being my unwitting enablers and for sticking around despite being a) technically an internet stranger (hello!) and b) someone I haven’t spoken to irl in literal years (hey!!)

Last but not least thankz 2 my sister for putting up with me ranting about the book when I first got it and for asking about “CQ” sometimes lol. (i desperately hope you’re not reading this orz)

[imakemywings]

I'll go ahead and ask Maglor and Maedhros for the character asks :D

Character ask meme

Everyone's favorite problematic Elves 👌

Maedhros

First impression

Haven't I heard this dude's name around the fandom before?

Impression now

Oh boy. Oh boy. Maedhros is possibly problematic Elf #1 because he just takes Feanor's ball and runs with it. And yet...you can still sort of sympathize with him? He does his best against Morgoth and he tries to keep the rest of the Feanorians in line and he survives 30 years of captivity by Morgoth but...buddy...yeah you didn't order the killing of Elured and Elurin but that doesn't make either of the later kinslayings a cool move...

Maedhros is just such a complex character and I love that, and while you can easily say he becomes a villain, I don't think you can ever cut it as clean as "Maedhros is good" or "Maedhros is bad."

Favorite moment

I would love to know more about his "deeds of surpassing valor" in Middle-earth but in absence of that, the moment when he surrenders the kingship to Fingolfin is wild. I have a meta on that that I need to finish because it was such a stroke of diplomatic brilliance I'm still not over it.

Idea for a story

There are so many good places to insert "missing scenes" or filling in some of Tolkien's brief descriptions. I'm fascinated also with his departure from Elrond and Elros, and like...what the hell did he and Maglor do between then and stealing the Silmarils? What did they talk about? And of course I love any story that dives into Maedhros feeling the pressure to take up Feanor's mantle and live up to his father's legend/expectations.

Unpopular opinion

Taking in Elrond and Elros was not a good guy move. It was a "we killed all their family and kin and now we feel incredibly guilty" move. I'm not sure how unpopular this is, but since the Feanorians are, essentially, the protagonists of The Silmarillion, their behavior gets a lot of excuse from fans.

Also, and this is only secondarily related to Maedhros, but Maedhros and Maglor were responsible for Elwing's suicide. Elwing did not "abandon" her children. She was driven to her death by the Feanorians.

EDIT: Oh I did think of an actually unpopular one: I don’t ship him with Fingon.

Favorite relationship

Oh this is hard! I've written a couple stories about Maedhros' relationship with Finrod, but I think his relationship with his brothers is probably most compelling for the sheer amount of influence he exerts over them. He keeps them in hand to the very end, which says something about how forceful of a personality he has, because the other children of Feanor aren't exactly push-overs.

Favorite headcanon

You know, sometimes it's really hard in this fandom to remember what's fanon and what's canon, and what's fanon heavily informed by canon.

This is another thing I talk about in the "giving up the kingship" meta, but I think that after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, Maedhros despaired of ever defeating Morgoth and/or retrieving the Silmarils, and that led directly to his later actions.

Maglor

First impression

Music

Impression now

Maglor you're a delight but boy you really need a backbone. Tolkien drops all these one-liners that I would love a deeper explanation of. The fandom generally portrays Maglor as a lot mellower than Maedhros which I get, but he also follows Maedhros into so much shit.

Favorite moment

Arguing with Maedhros not to steal the Silmarils. There's not a lot of dialogue in The Silmarillion, but Tolkien expends some of it on this conversation, and it's the first time we ever see Maglor openly dissent with Maedhros, and try to push Maedhros to take things his way. And Maglor is right. For the first time, we see one of the Feanorians openly assert that they should give up on the Silmarils and beg the forgiveness of the Valar and try to go home instead of tying the rest of their lives to this hopeless and bloody quest. He gets beaten down in the end, and goes along with Maedhros, but this stood out to me a lot.

Idea for a story

I liked your concept about Maglor turning against Maedhros during the Third Kinslaying, possibly after the deaths of Amrod and Amras, and what impact that would have had on the rest of the story.

I'd also be curious with something that explores his time ruling over Maglor's Gap, and how he ran things and what his court was like.

Unpopular opinion

Again not sure this is unpopular, but Maglor is just as much to blame for what happened later as Maedhros. Even though he disagreed with stealing the Silmarils, and may have disagreed with the kinslayings, he still did them. He can't pull the "well Maedhros was in charge, I just did what he said!" card. He could have chosen to stop following Maedhros, but he didn't.

Favorite relationship

With Maedhros. I know I was just pretty critical of their relationship, but it is so fascinating. There's definitely room to feel they were particularly close among Feanor's children, and I buy into the idea that Maglor had a bit of big brother hero-worship for Maedhros that never really went away, and it's just interesting to see how Maglor convinces himself to keep following Maedhros even when he disagrees with what Maedhros is doing.

Favorite headcanon

He took the greater role in parenting Elrond and Elros, and wanted to be close to them, and possibly saw raising them as a redemptive act, whereas Maedhros never wanted Elrond and Elros to forget who they were and what they did, and it led to a lot of conflict between them in how to handle the twins.

[mediocre--writing]

what if when neil found out steve and billy are dating, instead, he goes and beats the shit out of Steve to teach billy a lesson

“billy, shut up or i’m telling steve!”

the pause in the air was so pregnant that nobody dared to move.

billy felt his pulse shoot up so high he was sure he was going to vibrate off of the chair he sat on. he could see the fork in his hand wobble more and more violently as he willed it to stay still.

this was exactly what happened last time.

being too joke-y and playful, max saying something just incriminating enough, and the whole universe coming to a pause, just to jeer and laugh at poor billy hargrove.

the dinner was nice, one of the better ones susan had made, and everyone in the house was smiling.

max and billy were closer than ever, even before the move out to indiana, and felt like true siblings, much to the delight of both parents.

neils nose scrunched. he looked back and forth around the table before raising his steel eyes to meet max’s.

“who’s steve?”

max knew she’d done it this time. she was cornered and her face was burning with shame for what she brought on billy, what she brought on herself, what she brought on the house.

“one of billy’s friends. he babysits dustin sometimes. drives him around, ya know?”

max sounded causal. and it wouldn’t have been suspicious had the room not had a tense air that hadn’t been present prior to the move.

“friend?” neil moved his eyes over to billy, who instantly straightened his posture and set his face as blank as possible. “billy, you’re finally making good friends here?”

billy’s eyes scanned up and down his fathers figure before nodding, “yes, sir,”

neil smiled, “well, that’s great to hear,” and continued eating his vegetables.

billy didn’t move. this seemed like a trick.

there is no way that neil hargrove had so easily brushed off a comment like that without causing a fit or threatening to kill.

billy could still feel the phantom pains that came with the beating after neil had found out about harry.

billy had never experienced that much pain, never felt so fearful for his life as his dads boot pressed into his neck.

how bad it hurt when neil ripped out his original earring and pulled out his hair.

how he couldn’t sit straight for weeks, but still forced himself to in order to seem proper and kind and sweet, like the good son he is.

billy remembers the crunch of his ankle when he fell down to the floor. he remembers the threat on his life if neil even found a trace of billy acting the way he did.

worst of all, he remembers the way his heart ripped itself in half, every string connecting it being brutally ripped and burned on the ends to ensure there was no connecting it back together on the night he told harry he was leaving.

told him not to stay in touch, not to find his new number or his new address. not to even so much as think about billy for too long, in fear that neil would just know.

how he sat in the johnson’s backyard sunroom in the late afternoon and sobbed in harry’s arms.

how he had his right leg on the side of the couch, a big blue cast making it heavier and the splint he had on his wrist making it hard to grab at harry’s shirt.

how harry stroked at his hair and never mentioned the patch in the back that was gone, completely bald in that one spot. never mentioned how billy’s earring had moved sides and how there were three small stitches holding the other ear together.

and, now, billy having to see neil sit at a table and act like nothing happened, he almost felt more afraid than he did then.

monday morning, after billy’s weekend from hell. and no, it’s not what you’re thinking.

billy didn’t get hit once. didn’t get any dirty looks or obsessive nagging from neil.

of anything, neil seemed to smile at billy more that weekend.

billy didn’t dare step out of line, though. he offered to do dishes every night and did everyone’s laundry. he sat in the family room at night and was kind and sweet. didn’t leave the house once, nor did he make any phone calls.

and he was more on edge than ever.

driving him and max to school that day was like a breath of fresh air. even if it was kinda cow-shitty air, it wasn’t neil’s air.

billy pulled up to the middle school curb to let max out, but she didn’t move.

when billy turned to look at her, he saw her staring, slack jawed at something in the high school parking lot.

when billy turned his head, he wished he hadn’t seen it.

steve.

steve with his arm in a cast and sitting in a sling. steve with his face bloodier and more bruised than billy had ever made it look. steve waking with a limp as he got into the school doors.

“you don’t think—“ max couldn’t even finish her sentence before billy felt rage take over his entire body.

“get out. go to class. if i don’t pick you up today, go home with one of your friends. do you understand?”

max quickly said yes and got out of the car, billy whipping into his usual parking space before getting out and running, yes running, to steve, who was still trying to get through the front door.

“steve—“ billy stopped a few feet away as steve finally got the door open and walked into the halls.

billy chased after him, which wasn’t hard (steve was limping) but the sheer amount of people in the halls was hard to get around.

“steve! steve, stop!” billy forced himself through the hallways, never remembering them being this crowded before, or maybe that was his anxiety talking.

“steve,” billy finally stopped as he got in front of steve.

“billy, i really don’t want to talk to you right now,”

steve’s eyebrows did that weird thing where they scrunch in the middle and make the ends push down. they make him look more tired than he already is.

“no, no!” billy was freaking out. even without looking, he knew his hands were shaking worse than they ever had before.

“just—“ billy looked around before seeing the boy’s bathroom, gently pushing steve through the doors before locking the two of them in there together.

“bil—“

“is anyone in here!?” billy asked as he peaked under the stalls and checked every inch of the bathroom.

“this is my fault, but you gotta tell me what happened, steve,”

“i—i don’t even know!” steve looked around the bathroom as he leaned, defeated, against the wall next to the towel dispenser.

“you don’t know!?” billy was shouting, “did he come to your house? was this like an ambush thing? did he say anything to you? you have to give me something, steve!”

“i—i,” steve was floundering for the words to tell billy.

“he just— saturday night, i was coming home from dustins and i had to stop and pick up some milk from the 24-hour store and i came out and three of my tires were slashed.

“so i set down my stuff at the car and go back in to ask to use a phone, but someone yanks me back to the alley behind the store and beats the shit out of me, billy!”

billy was rubbing his hands over the stubble on his chin as he tried to process steve’s story.

“told me to stay the fuck away from his son and that he’d kill me if he found out i even looked at you again, alright! all while he’s shoving his foot into my elbow, but not before he pulls up on my wrist and breaks my arm!”

“oh my god,” billy stumbles backwards until his back hits the wall between the sinks, then he starts to slide down until he’s sitting on the floor, forcing himself not to cry.

steve huffs out something that sounds like “yeah” before moving to sit down too.

“did you tell anyone?”

“i didn’t know if i should,”

“you didn’t tell anyone!?”

“what was i supposed to say!?”

“that a psycho jumped you in the alley! what did you tell the hospital?”

steve was quiet for too long.

“you went to the hospital, right!?”

“not... exactly,”

“you fixed your own broken arm?”

“no.” steve looked down then around at the stalls, “i had jonathan help me,”

“steve!”

“well i needed someone to pick me up and i knew he wouldn’t ask questions!” steve admits. “would you want me to tell people?”

yes.

billys first thought. of course steve should have called the cops or gone to a hospital. neil hargrove should be arrested for what he did to steve.

no.

the logical part of billy’s brain says. if they take him to court over something like this, it could have too many repercussions.

for one, neil could tell everyone that his son and steve harrington are gay and fucking each other.

plus, it would force neils... home tendencies to come up at some point, and if it didn’t work out in a pretty liberal cali, then nobody in conservative indiana is going to berate neil for ‘taking care of’ his gay son.

it’s a lose-lose situation.

“billy?”

his blue eyes snap back to steve’s face: still kind and reassuring with the huge, grotesque scabs and swelling scattered everywhere.

“it’s why he didn’t do anything,”

the comment, said mostly to billy himself, caught steve’s interest, “what?”

“max... talked about you at dinner friday, and he didn’t do anything. i was waiting all weekend for him to snap and he never did, smiled more, even. now i know why,”

they sat together in thought for a while, a good ten minutes after the late bell rang, before billy cleared his throat.

“you said he slashed your tires?”—steve nodded—“you get ‘em replaced?”—steve nodded again—“did you drive yourself to school today?”

“yea—billy where is this going?”

before steve even got a read on billy’s face, the bathroom door was unlocked and swinging open, billy racing out.

steve, crippled as he may be, managed to get off the floor with his bum leg and broken arm, walking after a brief glimpse of billy as he turned corners before leaving out to the student parking lot.

billy was at steve’s car before he was, reaching through the open windows and popping the trunk, bitching about how steve needs to roll his windows up because people are gonna steal his car.

he reached into the trunk and grabbed the nail bat he knew steve would have there (the bat goes where steve goes).

“hey! billy!” steve is yelling to an empty parking lot, the only response being steve’s trunk slamming shut and billy marching over to his own car before getting in and screeching out of the lot.

steve was still standing there, speechless, as he watched the quick blue car shoot down the road.

steve, ever being the hero, limped back to the school, rifling through his pockets for loose change to push into the phone before dialing the byers house.

joyce picked up after two rings.

“hello, byers house,”

“is hopper there!?” his voice came out scratchy and worn.

“steve?”

“joyce! is hopper there?”

“he’s about to leave for work, why do yo—“

“put him on the phone! now!”

“o—ok,”

there’s rustling and muffled voices on the other line before steve hears hoppers gruff voice ask what he needs.

“i need you to do me a cop-like favor but as hopper, not a cop,”

“kid—“ hopper sighed and steve could just imagine him running a hand down his face. “i’ve gotta get to work and i don’t have t—“

“i think someone may be getting really hurt but i’ve been asked—well, not asked, but it’s been implied—that i shouldn’t get cops involved but i need you to do this for me, hopper!”

“is it... lab stuff?”

“no! this is like—halfway murder stuff!”

“who and where?”

“billy’s house. i think,”

hopper sighed and was quiet for a moment before giving a quick ‘i’ll go check it out,’

“not as a cop!”

“not as a cop,”

and steve felt useless. he knew he wouldn’t be able to go into class and feel ok.

hell, even if everything turned out alright, steve wasn’t sure when this fluttery, anxious feeling in his stomach would go away.

so, as a sane person would do, steve started slowly driving to billy’s house. not slowly, but the speed limit. just to give billy and hopper time to do something and steve wouldn’t get yelled at by billy for ‘getting in the middle of it.’

but when steve does get there, boy oh boy!

there’s a truck that’s got holes and dents all around it, windows smashed in and the wheels all flat, billy panting with the nail bat held limply in his hand.

neil, however, was standing on the porch, dressed ready for work, holding a shotgun at billy.

steve was parked a bit down the street, but the screaming could be heard with just his windows rolled down.

nothing sounded like anguished yells of pain, just hurtful jabs and ruthless words being spat back and forth.

steve couldn’t have wished harder for hopper to hurry the fuck up.

steve was intently watching the two men, both seeming to think they had the upper hand, when he heard the cocking of a gun taken off safety.

he sees billy’s blond hair start moving backwards, away from the house right as he catches a glimpse of a tan truck in his rear view mirror. hopper.

neither of the hargroves have noticed hoppers truck.

neil shoots a warning shot, one that goes a foot above billy’s head and into the wooded area in front of their house.

billy backs up quicker.

hopper turns his sirens on.

billy’s head shoots left to see the two cars.

neil’s finger lifts off the trigger.

hopper parks the truck, having already called for backup the second he saw neil holding a gun at his son.

he gets out, has that intimidating air about him that makes everything else quiet.

“we doin’ alright here?” hopper asks, hands resting on his belt, close to his gun.

“everything’s fine,” neil grits out.

“‘everything’s fine’ but you’re holding a gun at your boy. explain that to me,”

“listen here, pig, i don’t need you tellin me how i can raise my kids!”

“not questioning your parenting, just your choice of punishment,”

“he broke up my car!” neil yelled, hopper looked over to the (absolutely demolished) truck. “i told him, i told him he ain’t messin with what’s mine and the boy didn’t listen! so i’m just showin’ him how the real world is gonna come at him!”

“the real world is going to shoot him?” hopper asks with a quirk of his eyebrow.

billy has backed up all the way to the end of the driveway, behind where hopper was standing, and steve has gotten out of his car and was walking across neighboring lawns to get closer to billy.

he finally reaches billy.

“what the hell are you doing?” billy asks with wide eyes at steve, trying to keep quiet and not alert his dad and hopper.

“i—i’m not really sure,”

“jesus, you’re an idiot,” billy grumbles as he watches hopper and neil get closer as they talk.

the men are getting within ten feet of each other when hopper gets neil to put the gun down, even closes the part on his tool belt that has his gun.

neil comes off the porch, he and hopper are close, like two feet.

they’re talking quietly, and as much as steve and billy want to know what they’re saying, they don’t dare move any closer.

“—that boy!”

they only catch the end of the sentence, but neil is pointing at steve and hopper has his head turned with a disappointed look at steve.

“you couldn’t have waited in the car?” hopper groans and neil looks outraged.

“you’re telling me you support this abomination!? this is your doing, isn’t it? you allow things like this in your town? do you!?”

hoppers face looks calm.

“yeah, yeah i do,” he smiles, the mustache lifts with the rest of his face. then neil takes a swing at him.

they get into a brawl, but neil, however easy it is for him to beat up teenagers, can’t take hopper. not even on his best day.

hoppers backup shows up soon after, neil getting shoved into the back of a cop car with handcuffs (god, billy wishes he could get a picture of that).

hopper gets statements from steve and billy and susan and max. even mrs. garibaldi, the neighbor whose window looks right into the hargrove house and has written down dates and descriptions of what she sees (what a godsend, that woman is).

hopper has friends with high positions, good lawyer friends who don’t mind doing a good thing for a bad situation.

everything works out in the end.

plus, steve has a gnarley scar along the side of his neck, leading to his ear that billy enjoys kissing all the time. (and a lifetime of aches from waiting three days to do to the hospital for his backwards arm!)

[closetedotaku01]

can i rq for insecure s/o that have a beautiful body but she recently gained weight and kept overthinks it, but none of her friends are helping her out cause they think her body is nice and keeps taking her insecurities lightly.. for kuroo and oikawa pls

Imagine for Kuroo & Oikawa with insecure FEM S/O lacking a support system.

A/N: Wow I love this ask with my whole heart. Even chose two of my favorite characters. And may I just say these two might be the best in this situation, given that they’re captains, and aside from Bokuto captains are very aware of their teams and the general mental state and morale of every person on their team, so they might be the best people for this situation.

TW: Body image issues, self-esteem issues

Now: Imagine time!!! 

Kuroo Tetsurō

-Kuroo would notice you spending more time in the bathroom. More time picking out outfits. And your generally more disgruntled demeanor

-He can tell you’re unhappy, but he cannot tell what about. As far as he knows there’s nothing that’s happened. But he figures you’ll tell him in time whatever is bothering you.

-And then one day he’s out with you and your friends and one of them compliments your outfit and your body.

-He sees the way you immediately flush and reject the compliment. It’s not a humility thing or a simple deflection out of embarrassment, he can see you wholly and fully rejecting the compliment. You don’t even look like it made you feel good.

-He takes your hand in his and is about to ask you if everything’s okay when one of your friends whines about how pretty girls always fish for compliments

-He notices how your chuckle is feigned and your eyes look beyond hurt, watering a bit. How you squeeze his hand slightly.

-Your mutter out something he can’t quite make out over the sound of everyone else talking, but it’s something along the lines of you mentioning your weight gain. And it clicks for him.

-One of your friends talks about how you still look “fine” and he can’t take it anymore. You’re far from fine. As far from fine as it gets. You’re magnificent, an absolute treasure, and fuck them for not noticing that the most beautiful girl in the entire world is not happy

-Fuck them for not seeing it. Fuck them for hurting you. He is not having it.

- “I’m sorry everyone, we’re headed home now,” he says, already standing up and grabbing your purse to hand to you.

-You follow his lead solely because you’re scared if you don’t you might burst into tears in front of everyone and you don’t want to cause a scene.

- “Awww come on where’re you going? Why can’t you guys stay?”

- Kuroo doesn’t miss a beat, “I need some alone time with my gorgeous girlfriend.” He turns to you, speaking barely above a whisper, “You ready to go, love?”

-You nod at his gentle words and head back to your apartment together.

~~~~

When you enter your apartment, Kuroo immediately pulls you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” he whispers to you, tucking his body into yours, head into your neck, arms wrapped tight around you.

The tears you’d been holding back fall freely from your eyes and into his shirt, “I’m sorry, Tetsu I--”

He pushes you back, holding your shoulder at an arm’s length, “What are you apologizing for, love? You’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.” You can’t meet his eyes, forcing yourself to stare down at the visible extra weight you’ve put on.

“For… not looking like the girl you fell in love with,” it’s all you can say before the sobs start pouring out. Hating your body. Hating yourself. Hating yourself for putting the most caring man you’ve ever known through this with you. 

The sobs tear through your body leaving an aching wreckage in your chest and your stomach and your back and your throat. There’s nothing left undamaged. Every bit of you is in so much pain and is shaking, like the pain you’ve been feeling finally exploded and is trying to escape by any means it can, fighting to escape even through your shaking fingertips. 

Kuroo puts his hand to one cheek and wipes the tears on that side, he bends down so his face is in front of yours, “Look at me.” His voice is soft and comforting filled with the love, care, and respect you had grown used to, but these words were packed full of them. Even when you knew you didn’t deserve all the affection.

He inhales deeply, “Deep breath in through your nose,” he exhales softly, smiling with his eyes as he blows lightly on your tears sending coolness into your burning cheeks, “And out through your mouth.”

You copy him as he repeats this until your breathing steadies. Until your heart has stopped slamming against your chest. Until the pain in your body is reduced to a dull ache.

Your eyes are still on his, and he’s looking at you with passionate love and fierce compassion, “There she is. There’s my beautiful girlfriend,” he says with a shy smile.

“I’m not---” a sob threatens to reappear, but you catch it in your throat.

“Love, you are beyond gorgeous. Your body is so sexy and still so adorable and pretty. I don’t know how you do it,” he kisses the crown of your head, “you mean the world to me,” a kiss to your forehead, “and if you call my world anything less than a goddess, anything less than perfection,” he kisses both of your eyelids and the tip of your nose in quick succession, “I will have to fight you.” He punctuates his sentence by planting a kiss on your lips.

“Tetsu, just because you’re my boyfriend, doesn’t mean you have to lie to me. It actually means you shouldn’t lie to me. And I know I don’t look good like this.”

His shoulders fall. And he has a sad expression on his face, but his eyes are still happy and you can see the smile tugging on his lips as he looks down, “Oh I get it,” he takes a long pause, “you think I have bad taste.”

You hit his arm playfully, “Tetsu, I’m serious!”

“So am I!” he shoots back, chuckling lightly.

“Okay, love, I know you don’t believe me. But you are seriously gorgeous. Completely, out of this world gorgeous. Beyond any person, place, or thing I have ever seen. The whole cosmos comes together to make the Earth and everything in it and around it, and the only part of any of it that’s worth seeing is you.”

His words feel raw and sincere, but you’re about to reject his kindness when he says the words you’ve been waiting for, “But you don’t see yourself that way. And that means you’re wrong…. But you do deserve to feel as beautiful as you are. And to feel as happy as you always make me. So if you want to come with me on my runs or if you want me to help you with anything let me know. I think you’re gorgeous but more than anything you deserve to be happy with how you look. So I’ll be right there by your side to get you there safely and healthily.”

You start to tear up again, your chest welling with love for the man before you. You collapse into his hold, and he holds you tight. He pulls away slightly to get a look at your face, “On one condition.”

You nod.

“I disagree, but I still believe that you don’t see yourself as beautiful. So even if you disagree ... can you please believe me when I say I know you’re absolutely bewitching.”

You nod again, and he pulls you in close to his body, happy to have brought you peace. 

Oikawa Tōru

-It wasn’t intended to wound you. In full honesty, it wasn’t intended for you. But you’d heard it nonetheless and it was roaring through your mind.

- “Pretty people never date down.”

-You’d heard in passing as you walked down the street. But the words bounced around, rattling everything in your mind.

-You never thought of yourself as particularly pretty, but you’d certainly done yourself no favors by putting on a healthy amount of “relationship weight”.

-You tried going to your friends, desperately craving some semblance of comfort or hope for your relationship with THE universally recognized pretty boy Oikawa Tōru.

-They shot back sarcastic comments about your “pretty girl problems”

- “Former pretty girl problems" was the only thing your brain could shoot back, determined to push you into a hole with the crushing anxieties you had about your body now doubled up with losing the person you loved and trusted most in your life.

-You walked into your apartment, your boyfriend on his laptop watching and rewatching one of his games, taking notes on his performance as well as the performance of each of his peers.

~~~~

“Hey baby how was your day?” his words are unfocused. Almost like he’s reading from a script as he jots down more notes and rewinds to rewatch the same play again.

“Terrible,” you say, honestly believing he’d be too caught up in his game to care. Who’d care for the ugly girl they were stuck with anyway? He probably stuck with you out of sheer pity.

He immediately paused the game and turned back to face you, “Aww no, what happened, baby? Come here.” his arms were open wide for you on the couch. 

“You know you can leave,” you said before you could think better of it. You regretted it. You didn’t want him to know that. You selfishly wanted him to stay with you forever, even if only out of pity. But… he did deserve better.

“What?” he asks quirking a brow, aware of how serious you sound, “I don’t want to… leave. Do you just need some alone time, Y/N? I can go on a run or something if you need some time to clear your head.”

“I meant ... leave me,” you say, your voice weaker and higher this time as tears that you hadn’t even felt forming started blurring your vision threatening to spill any moment.

He was in front of you in a heartbeat, “I’m sorry. I’ve been focusing too much on other things, haven’t I? I promise I don’t wan--”

“No the problem is you’re focusing too much on me!” your voice comes out as a yell and you see the half-step he takes, backing away from you, “you deserve better Tōru. You should want to leave.” With that, the tears spill over and your legs give in as you fall pathetically to the ground.

This moment is the very reason he should leave. You can’t even hold yourself together. You’re not pretty, you’re not strong, you’ve yelled at him when he’s done nothing wrong… you hardly deserve him.

You feel his hand meet your cheek and you flinch slightly at the contact, but neither of you move. His hand drifts down to your chin, lifting your face up so your eyes meet his. Your anger and sadness triple down on you when you see he’s got a fake smile on, his eyes rimmed red, tears forming because of you.

“I love you. I am not leaving you. Full stop. So please tell me what’s bothering you, baby.”

You want to ignore him. You want to grab your things and leave so he can get started on finding a better match so he wasn’t stuck dating down. With his body and mind and humor and kindness, he’d have no trouble. He had a million fans on standby at any given moment anyway.

But you don’t. You don’t pack. You don’t leave. You instead, pull his body into yours, desperately clutching his shirt with whitened knuckles, sobbing into him. 

With time you let his strong arms bring you peace. With your body molded tight against his, you eventually match his breathing, steadying yourself. His smell grounds you, the feeling of his hand in your hair calms you, and the soft, gentle praises he coos into your ear center you. Effectively, he slays every intrusive thought in your mind.

“You’re so perfect for me.”

“I never want to leave you.”

“You’ve made me the man I am today. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“I know the path to being my best self, is a path I’ll only be able to walk with you by my side.”

“You’re my whole world, baby. Please stop discounting yourself.”

“I wouldn’t change one thing about you, baby. Not even your stupid jokes. Not even the way you tease me.”

“I love your mind and the way you think. How kind and passionate you are. How you support me through everything. How you take such good care of me and everyone you love. God, I love the way you love. I love how wholly and completely you give love. And I love your body, baby. I love how pretty your face is, how perfectly your body fits with mine, how completely, mind-blowingly sexy you are. All of you. There’s not one part of you I am not head over heels in love with. We’re an absolute knockout of a couple, but you are by far the better half. Baby, please believe that because it is the truth.”

Every word is woven between kisses and touches and the easing of your whole body and mind. There was no way these words were planned. They were genuine. You could hear the authenticity in his voice, even though the unpleasant raspiness that had formed as he desperately tried to hold back his own tears. He had you whipped. Completely convinced.

You belonged here right in his arms. Right up next to him. As close as the world would allow any two people to get.

After you’d calmed down completely he asked without looking at you so he could keep you close, “What happened?”

You told him everything. The words you heard. How they beat around in your head, leaving a cold thunderous ache throughout your body. How your support system had failed you. How he had saved you from the treacherous thoughts that were certain to continue sending you spiraling downward if he hadn’t fixed everything simply by being him. And how much you treasure him.

He let out a breathy laugh, that soon grew into a full-on laugh as the tears finally left his eyes.

“It’s not funny Tōru!” you pout, basking in the sweet sound of his deep laughter.

“I know,” he says, still laughing. He clears his throat and does his best to stifle down the laughter, but it keeps bubbling up, “I know, baby. I know. But you know how I feel and you know that’s not going to change.”

“Then why are you laughing,” you ask, giggling as you wipe the last of your tears from your face and wipe the ones from his. 

“All I can think of,” the laughter breaks through his sentence, but he regains his composure, “is that you think I’m the prettier one.”

You hit his arm as you two laugh on the floor behind the couch, perfectly at ease with the man who you adore, and who adores you.

~~~~

Also just a reminder: Weight =/= beauty. So whether you are plus-sized, or thin, curvy, or flat, your body is perfect as it is. Just please stay healthy and happy and that’s all it takes. “Fat” does not mean ugly. “Skinny” does not mean ugly. Please stop associating these words. They’re not the same.

Beauty is your kindness and your compassion and your integrity. Your will to fight another day, your will to stand up for others, your will to give voice to the voiceless. It’s the way you look when you’re passionate and the way you constantly bring joy to others. So while I personally do understand associating my worth and my beauty with my weight, we all know that it’s just incorrect. Beauty does not fall into any physical mold, so please don’t try to hold yourself to a mold that was created by people who profit off your insecurity. You are you, and that is a goddamn blessing. You are you and that is more than enough. Your body is perfect. Please be kind. 

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Showers and Cuddles and Blood, Oh My! | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey lovelies! Coming at you with another Mikaelson boys sharing fic because the last one seemed to go over well! I'll probably continue on that route if the response stays the same. I mean, heck, if I can have all three I'll take all three so why not! Hope y'all enjoy! Stay tuned for more, I have some juicy stuff in the works ;) Much love <3

Description: Elijah and Klaus leave Y/n with Kol for the weekend while they're out hunting enemies, all is well until they return, scared and hurt. Y/n works her magic Y/n powers and makes it all better. Happy ending yay!

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, leaned in Klaus' favor

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! Angst-y, mentions of blood and battle, Smut (not full, just foreplay things)

Word count: 3909

Tags: FLUFF, angst-ish, smut

(Photos not mine but the mood board is :) )

“Kol, pass the popcorn,” you yell at him from across the living room without dragging your eyes from the television screen, not willing to miss a second of The Bachelor just because he’s hogging the snacks.

He’s had the bowl in his lap for the vast majority of the show, slowly munching away on the goodies you had made. If he was on the couch with you there wouldn't be a problem, you could just scoot over and you wouldn’t have to look away, but he’s on an armchair across the room. To be fair, you had made him sit there. You didn’t want him to distract you. Kol’s attention span is worse than a kindergarteners and when he gets bored he gets touchy. Literally. One caress from Kol would pull all your attention, a risk you were not willing to take.

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face but you remain strong, “why don’t you come get it, huh princess? Isn’t it lonely over there?”

He’s bored and trying to make you cave. His words hit hard in the pit of your stomach and your thighs clench. Your cheeks flame but you refuse to pull your eyes from the scuba date this bachelor has taken his date on. You can’t remember her name. She’s blonde and tall, but so are all the others girls on the show. You’re only a couple episodes in so you’re yet to really lock down the details. To be honest, you don’t ever really remember the names until the last couple episodes.

You can hear him start crunching again and you swear you see red for a second, “Kol, damnit, give me the popcorn. Now!”

All he does is laugh, pushing you over the edge. One second you're on the couch and the next you’re across the room, ripping the bowl from his loose grip. You don’t eat it, though, you just resist the urge to throw it across the room before setting it on the coffee table. His face is smug as you stand in front of him, simmering with something hot. It’s not rage though and that pisses you off. He won and he knows it.

He leans forward, pulling you by your hips towards him, a sultry smirk on his face, “come here.”

He scoops you onto his lap, pulling your mouth to his and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You sigh into his mouth, your legs dangling over the edge of the chair. Your hands find his hair and tug gently at the roots. You can feel him smile against your lips.

“It’s impossible to watch anything with you in the same room,” you mumble as his lips trace your neck, stifling a traitorous moan, “this is the third time I've attempted this episode.”

“I’m sorry,” no he’s not, “I just missed you.”

How he could miss you even slightly right now you have no idea. Elijah and Klaus have been gone for a few days, off hunting an enemy they refused to tell you about, leaving you to the youngest Miakelson’s wills for the entire weekend. To say you’ve left his sight for even a few minutes would be lying. Not that you didn’t soak up every second of time with him. It’s not everyday you get to be alone with one of them without feeling bad about ignoring the others. It’s a tricky situation.

His hands grip the edge of your tee, ready to pull it off, “you’ve had me to yourself for three days. An hour without touching me will not kill you, Kol.”

Even as you say it you cant help but attach you lips to his neck, leaving a few small kisses before sucking harshly at the base of his throat. His hand grips your hip and you know that if you were still a human it would have left bruises. The other wraps in your hair, pushing you against him a little bit harder.

“Ah, fuck, yes it will, princess.”

He starts lifting your shirt when the front door opens. Heavy footsteps land in the front hall and the smell of mud and something sharp hits your nose. You pull back from Kol slightly and he doesn’t protest, just as intent on listening.

“I, fuck,” you hear Klaus hiss from the near the door, causing your heartbeat to spike, “I’m not healing as fast as I should be.”

As fast as it had spiked, your heart stops, “it’s the wolfsbane, she knew it would slow the process.”

You look into Kol’s eyes, your blood running cold, a feeling you had forgotten existed. As soon as he nods you’re flying out of the den and into the front hall where you stop dead in your tracks. There you find Elijah. At least, you think it’s Elijah. It’s hard to tell who it is by the sheer amount of mud caked onto their body. Head to toe, mingled with something bright red. You already know what it is. Wherever there isn't mud on his body there’s blood, still wet in some places. You can smell the metallic tinge in the air and your heart breaks.

What’s worse is his face. His eyes look shattered. Like all the life has been drained from them. Your chest squeezes painfully at the sight. Your Elijah, your rock, ready to crumble. His hands shake at his sides. He just stands there, looking at you like you’re about to disappear. Klaus is no where to be seen.

“Y/n,” Elijah falls to his knees, the thud echoing through the silent house, “baby.”

His voice is small and, if it’s even possible, scared. In less than a second you’re in front of him, hugging him impossibly tight to your stomach. His arms wrap around your waist as he clings to you desperately. He’s trembling in your arms. You feel like someone’s hand is wrapped around your heart, crushing it. You move to sit down, pulling him against your chest.

“Eli, what happened honey?” Your hands bury themselves in his hair and you wish for his sake that it was under the same circumstances as it was with Kol.

“There were too many, Y/n, they must have had close to a hundred men,” he pulls you onto his knees, burying his face in your neck, “they weakened us before they attacked. I don’t know how. Magic, maybe. Sealed off the land so we couldn’t get out. They just kept coming, I’ve never seen anything like it. Even after their hearts were out they kept coming.”

For a man who has seen the very worst that war has had to offer, he speaks like he can’t comprehend the battle he was in. Like all the wars before this one, even combined, were nothing compared to what he just witnessed. His words make you cry for him. They make you angry like you’ve never been before. You clutch him tighter to you, placing a kiss to his matted hair. His relieved sigh brings some comfort but not enough to make this all better.

“I was so scared, baby,” he chokes on his words, his voice dripping with cold relief, “I thought I was never going to see you again.”

You sob at his words, burying your face against his head. Somehow, beneath all the mud and blood, there's still a hint of Elijah. This faint pine scent that makes you crumble against him and hold on for dear life.

“They did something to Klaus,” your heart drops further in your stomach, “they injected him with something. I think it was wolfsbane but I don’t think that’s all. He’s not healing as fast as he normally does.”

You gasp at his words, “Elijah?”

He shifts, pulling back slightly. There are tracks on his cheeks, glimpses of skin, where he had been crying. You reach to wipe some of the dirt from his face, letting your own tears flow freely. He turns his head into your hand, closing his eyes for a moment and kissing your palm. For the first time since he got home you see him smile slightly.

“He needs you, baby,” always the noble one, your Elijah.

You look at him, reluctant to leave him like this, “Elijah I-”

His warm lips cut you off. You revel in his taste. It hasn’t changed and for that you’re eternally grateful. He kisses you slowly, his hands cradling your face carefully. You savour every second his lips are on yours, memorizing every line and curve. You could stay in this moment for a life time.

But Klaus needs you, too.

“Go, I'll see you soon,” he places one last kiss to your lips, smirking slightly, “besides, I really need a shower.”

You run your hand over his hair one last time, pulling out of his hold and making your way up the stairs to Klaus’ room. Any of the relief you had felt from Elijah disappears as fast as it had come. There are muddy boot prints leading to his door, his jacket, sopping and caked in grime, dropped on the floor. His flannel, less caked in mud and more so in blood, piled a few feet away from the jacket. It brings tears to your eyes once more. The part that makes your heart stop, though, is the scent. You can smell the blood before you're even halfway down the hall, hot and tangy.

A sharp bang sounds from inside his room, followed by a pained groan. You knock lightly on the door, unsure of whether or not to just walk in.

“Go away, Elijah,” he sounds angry but his voice lacks it’s usual passion.

“It’s not Elijah. It’s me, Klaus, it’s Y/n,” your voice is quiet but you know he can hear you.

He pauses for a moment and your chest constricts, wanting nothing but to hold him and make it all better.

Then you hear it, he’s crying, “Y/n?”

As soon as he says your name, sobs your name, you’re through the door. At the sight of him, as it was with Elijah, the wind is knocked from your lungs. He’s on his knees, a ghostly parallel to his brother, but he’s bleeding. He is coated in blood from head to toe. His arms got the worst of it, soaked to his elbows like a pair of crimson gloves. There are slices all the way down his torso, deep ones. His head rests on his hands, his shoulders shaking furiously from the cries wracking his body. Klaus has never been small but right now, curled on his bedroom floor, he looks undeniably smaller.

“Oh, baby,” your voice is a hoarse whisper and he looks up at you with tortured eyes, his mouth falling open.

You run to him, falling to your knees before him, letting him pull you against his chest. His skin is hot, working in overdrive to heal the cuts. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his skin softly. Your arms wrap around his chest, trying to avoid his wounds but it’s impossible. They’re everywhere.

He clutches you tightly, his body shaking uncontrollably, “it was mother, she turned these hybrids into something else. Dark magic or something. They were dead but they kept coming.”

When he pulls away slightly to glimpse at your eyes, your breath catches in your throat. Up close you see them, bites. All over his arms and chest. Huge hunks of skin torn from parts of his body. Thankfully, they appear to be healing but not nearly fast enough for your liking. Your eyes well up again and you let the tears drop with his. He’s terrified. Your soldier is painfully afraid and it breaks your heart for the millionth time today.

“Klaus, what can I do, you need to tell me what to do sweetheart,” your hands cup his face, trying to wipe the droplets but they keep coming.

He sighs into your touch, his shoulders relaxing slightly, “just stay with me for a little while. Please, love? Don’t leave.”

Your heart aches for him thinking he even needs to ask, “of course I won’t. I’m not going anywhere. It’s just you and me, darling.”

He nods, standing on shakey legs. You follow suit, letting him pull you into a proper hug. Now that he’s on two legs, he towers over you, his face pushed into your hair, breathing deeply. After what feels like hours, he stops shaking. You just stand there, your arms tied around his waist, rubbing circles on his back. He still feels strong under your touch. He’s still your Klaus. Just a little bit worse from the wear.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You run your hand over his face before grabbing his hand and pulling him with you to his attached bathroom. He follows without protest, moving his hands to your hips as you lead him towards the glassed in shower. You let him go for just a second while you start the shower which elicits a groan of protest. You turn the dial to a gloriously warm stream before going back to the muddy blonde. Your muddy blonde.

You reach up, drawing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. He dips into your touch, pulling away to lean his head on your shoulder. You reach for the button of his jeans, popping it open with both hands. He places a soft kiss to your shoulder, just as you had earlier. You’re pushing him to keep touching you. It will ground him. You tug the zipper down before stepping away.

You give him a millimeter smile and revel in the way that, despite everything he’s been through, his eyes still dance over your figure when you pull the tee over your head. Your chest swells in pride that you can make him forget some of the pain and let it give way to love. You step out of your leggings next, letting them pool at your feet. His eyes roam every dip and curve of your body, igniting some of the fire that has been missing.

Standing in front of him, you’re left in nothing but your black bra and matching panties. He pushes his own jeans down his legs, leaving them as he walks back to you, twirling you so your back is to his chest. It’s working. His hands on your back make you shiver. His fingers trace your spine lightly, trailing up until they stop at your bra clasp. His lips land on the back of your neck, pushing your hair to the side as he nips lightly at the skin. His fingers skillfully undo your bra, pushing the straps down your arms until it falls, joining the growing pile of clothes at your feet.

His arms circle around you, pulling you flush against his hot chest, “so beautiful, love.”

You release the breath that you didn’t know you were holding at the sound of his voice. He sounds better, a little more Klaus like. A little more in control. His hands are flat on your stomach, dragging down you abdomen. His thumbs hook in your panties as he pulls them down your legs. They, too, join the pile at your feet. He grips your hips with strong hands, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, pulling your skin back into his mouth and biting down harder with blunt teeth.

You spin in his arms, drawing his face down to yours once more, “Come on, darling, water’s getting cold.

You press a quick kiss to his parted lips before scampering into the shower, a cheeky grin plastered on your face. He wastes no time in pushing the boxers down his legs and joining you under the warm water. He hisses quietly when the water hits the bites, closing his eyes. You pull him into your arms for a moment, allowing him to adjust to the pain. You can’t imagine what he’s going through right now.

When he opens his eyes again, you grab a washcloth that’s hanging idily to the side and a half empty bottle of soap. The label says ocean breeze and you can’t help but giggle. You lather the soap, which, for the record, actually smells pretty good, over the cloth before bringing one of his arms to your chest. That’s where you start, rubbing the material gently over his stained fingers, watching the stream of water pool deep red at your feet before swirling down the drain.

When you finish with his first arm, you move to the next. Over his bicep, down his forearm, caressing his wrist and palm like you had the other. He sighs when you place a kiss to his knuckles, gently putting his arm back by his side. Somewhere between his left arm and his right he had let his head fall back against the shower wall. Your heart soars to see him finally start to relax.

You move next to his chest, beginning at his collar bone. You run the cloth over the nastiest bite, one of the only ones still left healing. Klaus grips your waist when you do, clenching his jaw tightly.

“I know hun,” you coo to him, kissing his tensed face, “I need to do it, though. It’s almost over.”

He doesn’t answer, not verbally at least. He just wraps his arm around your shoulder, placing a kiss to the side of your head and letting you continue. You do your best to rub the dirt away quickly before leaving it be. You move down his chest, over his defined muscles, swirling the cloth over his skin lightly, drawing some quiet groans from his lips. They aren’t pained this time, however. They're something else. More familiar. Hotter.

You run the cloth down his toned stomach, savouring every crevice and dip, drowning in the praises that are flowing louder from his mouth. Heat grows rapidly in the pit of your stomach and before you know it you’re holding back your own sounds. Your head falls against his chest, his hand wrapped in your sopping hair, as you pass his belly button.

“Fuck,” he yanks your head up, crushing his mouth against yours deliciously.

The cloth falls from your hands, replaced with his shoulders which your grip furiously when he flips you around, pushing your back against the tiled wall. His mouth moves to your neck, sucking harshly and drawing the first moan from your lips. His fingers draw down your shoulders, tracing the curve of your breasts, his thumbs rolling over your nipples, pulling a gasp from your mouth.

“Klaus,” you’re panting and he’s hardly touched you, “this is supposed to be about you.”

“Trust me, love, it is,” he says before placing his mouth over one of your breasts.

Your hand flies to hair, holding his head against you, the other clutching desperately at the shower wall behind you. His hands find your hips, holding you against the wall beautifully. He bites down lightly on your nipple before running his tongue over it soothingly. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, everywhere he touches you white hot. His blue eyes find yours through the water streaming around you, shining brilliantly for the first time since you found him.

His hand dips down, trailing fire down your stomach, until his fingers swipe over your clit once, then it’s lightening. His eyes are on you, watching every little movement you make. He does it again, drawing closer to your core, his thumb circling your most sensitive part. He stands up fully again, his lips finding your ear, tugging it between his teeth.

“God, Klaus,” you’re a mess at his touch, “please.”

He smirks at you, pausing his actions, his voice a husky whisper against your skin, “what should I do, love? Tell me. Shall I take my time or finish this now?”

He’s back. This is the Klaus that you’re used to. Fully self-aware and dominant. Strong. Above all though, he’s undeniably yours and yours alone.

“I- Klaus,” you tug his hair, pulling to try and regain a semblance of control, “I need you.”

He kisses your earlobe once more, his voice low and sultry, “as you wish, darling.”

* * * * *

What feels like hours later you emerge from the shower, dripping and sensitive but beyond happy, a pleased Klaus trailing close behind you. His hands refuse to leave your body as you lead him into his bedroom. There he opens his dresser, pulling out a black t-shirt that will most definitely swallow you and a pair of boxers and handing them to you before choosing a pair of grey sweatpants for himself. You pull his shirt over your still wet hair, revelling in his scent. You follow it with his boxers, fully embraced in all things Klaus.

“Now that is a sight that will never get old, love,” Klaus’ breath tickles the back of your neck as his arms wrap around you.

You lean into his touch, playing back the memories of his body tangled with yours under the shower once more.

“Back at you, Sweetheart,” and you mean it, he looks positively eddible in those sweatpants.

He growls lowly, sending another incessant wave of heat through your body, “love we need to leave this room before Elijah tears the door of it’s hinges. I’ve been listening to him and Kol pace for the better half of two hours.”

“Kol,” you say loud enough for him hear from anywhere in the house, which isn't very loud honestly, “can wait. He has had three days. He needs to learn to share.”

You swear you can hear him pouting from the kitchen as Klaus chuckles softly. Footsteps echo up the stairs, stopping right outside the door. You smile up at the blue-eyed blonde in your arms, knowing exactly who it is. He kisses your forehead, mouthing that he’ll meet you soon.

You open the door to face a tired but grinning Elijah, “Kol can wait but I'm just about done, baby.”

You can’t help but admire him, standing in the doorway in a simple hoodie and shorts. This is the side of him that only you get.

“Well, sir, how can I argue with that?”

“Uh huh,” he shakes his head at you, pulling you into his arms, making you erupt with giggles when he walks away, leading you back to the den where this all began.

You wave to Klaus, who winks back at you, mirth laced deep in his irises. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes, finally at peace.

The night ends with the four of you cuddled on the largest couch in the den. Your back is against Elijah’s chest, his arms circled tight around you, not letting you go for anything. Klaus’ head is in your lap, his legs sprawled behind him on the remaining length of the couch. One of your hands is laced through his hair. His are clutching your legs. He’s fast asleep. Kol sits on the floor, your other hand resting around his shoulder, pulling him to lean back against your side. There's a fresh bowl of popcorn on his lap. He still isn’t sharing any of it. The television screen shows the image of a man and a woman scuba diving together. You couldn’t be happier to finally relax with all three of your Mikaelson men.

[retiretomysilence]

I have not been on here in approximately five billion years but randomly stopping in bc I’ve finally got a laptop properly able to play DS3 so I am like five years late. I haven’t beaten it yet, but my thoughts so far (I just got to Lothric Castle):

feels better to move around than in ds2, but ds1 still has my favourite “weighty” feeling

why did they fuck up covenants like this, why are the blue sentinels AND the blade of the darkmoon here and sharing the same job, why no blue eye orb, farming for ears was agony, why no penalty for leaving, there’s no loyalty aspect

I like that you can wear a decent amount of armour and still have a good roll without investing a lot in vit

so far my fave run has been my pryo with dark and chaos-infused weapons

offensive miracles are still overall bad lol rip wog

sorcery is pretty underwhelming too

why hexes no return as their own category hggn

oh my god these quest lines are outrageously specific

Karla my beloved

did we really need that ballista in smouldering lake

demon ruins are actually hell to traverse, points for themeing I guess

dancer is a sick fight, aldrich also cool

enjoyed boss battle hitting tree balls

you can respec a lot easily! nice

tbh there’s almost too many gestures

I accept patches bc he’s in every game pretty much but I am done with the ds1 callbacks, we got enough of them in ds2, I get it

was actually more hype for ds2 callbacks (creighton!!!)

rip big poise for big bois

shields not useless but why shield when rolls are free

overall I like the level design, though some areas seem to have too many bonfires

seriously did we need siegmeyer again, like anri at least feels different than oscar but squidward is just siegmeyer

it’s sadly easy to miss npc invasions and therefore specific weapons/gear, best bet is to be always embered or look things up in advance

from my small amount of pvp, I prefer the ds2 pvp and the sheer amount of build variety

expanding on that, I don’t feel like there’s a lot of weapon variety, mostly bc unique weapons are usually bad and you’re better off using a straight sword and spamming r1

hard to get attached to a weapon early on, gotta wait a while for interesting ones

fuck gru, fuck goats, don’t jump on me

fromsoft we’re taking away the swamp area from you for the next three games

you go in the boss door so fast which is awesome, unlike in ds2 where you take your sweet time and get clipped running to the boss

occasional estus refill fighting stuff, nice

do not like fp system, give me back limited but certain number of uses, don’t make me split healing

man fuck those skellies that throw bleed knives at you, they wreck my ass every time

also those big ladies are a constant threat throughout, I’m impressed, that book smack hurts

there’s some good ass fashion souls here

anor londo is just a small area and doesn’t overstay its welcome

tons of rings but they feel fairly distributed through the game and not too overpowered (so far)

the linearity of the game is one of its main downfalls for me, you’re heavily railroaded a certain path that doesn’t open up a ton, you can try dancer early but that seems like a big task, multiple playthroughs chart very similar courses

fire and dark op, I approve

weapon arts are cool in theory but not usually the best option, also eats into fp so those using spells and stuff are disincentivized to use them

a lot of enemies just go ham and while it doesn’t feel unfair, it can feel like the enemies are in bloodborne while we’re stuck in dark souls; ds1 playstyle seems pretty dead for their games overall

fuck those little fuckers that drop from roofs and ambush you, fuck them

rip horace

[mxvladdy]

Beelzebub- True Form

Three more boyos to go!

Next up: Leviathan

Beelzebub-  

The embodiment of starvation. The sharp contrast between his healthy and fit forms is truly baffling.

Mouths are scattered all over his gangly form. It is the only human thing about him as he is faceless otherwise. When hunting they release a mist or plague of locusts depending if his hunger is physical or emotional

His hunting form is juvenile and frail. Naturally small and unassuming, it is perfect to lure his victims close and ensnare them forever. He attracts souls with an overwhelming hunger. It’s a lure filled with false promises of substances and warm. When close he latches on like a parasite and gorges until there is nothing left but an empty husk.

Once full his form shifts into something- greater- his small body growing and stretching. It’s somewhere along the lines of a human growth spurts, or puberty, but is done in moments. It’s uncomfortable for him; the rapid growth takes a lot out of him.

When fed he is larger, but still skeletal in form. It’s a permanent reminder of his new immortal purpose. His skin is like stone, hard and grey but translucent. It is stretched tight around his frame, like an artist canvas over his jet black bones. The texture of it emphasizes all the odd twists and turns of his bone structure and whatever else lies underneath his flesh.

Each raspy breath he draws from the many mouths scattered around his body rattle his disjointed skeleton. His bones clinking together with every exhale to create a truly chilling symphony.

When crazed with hunger he loses himself. In his younger years as a cardinal sin he was responsible for wiping out land masses and civilizations to try and dull the ache before his brothers could contain him.

His gluttony isn't only for physical sources of substances. Slabs of meat only go so far. He will latch on like a leech, to anything that radiates his current emotional cravings. Love? Happiness? Fear? He wants to experience it all. Filling and cramming every little space with whatever sensations he craves. Till the deadened feeling in his chest is a little less.

There was a time where he was very close with his brother sin greed. During their younger years as demons they would terrorize the mortal realm, a deadly duo. Both unable or unwilling to control their new urges.

He hates this existence. He’s empty and it drives him mad. Was he like this in heaven? Honestly, Beel can’t remember anymore. He doesn’t think so. He had his brothers and sister to keep him in order and a different name. At the time he was called Temperance, right? He thinks. It’s a bit foggy.

But what hurts him the most is that his family structure is fractured now. There is a hole where Lilith used to be, and no amount of souls or food will ever fill that.

When he met you it helped a little. But he has to be weary.

He has better control of his abilities now then a couple centuries ago so you don’t have to worry too much. He likes having you around. It fills part of the void that he’s been struggling with for so long. Being with you makes him feel like dirt has finally hit the bottom of what he thought was a vacuous void inside.

Sometimes his natural abilities seep out when he is hungry or frustrated from another family row.  He gravitates towards you then, searching for that odd human comfort demons just don’t possess. He sips slowly on it; with your permission of course. Not the wisest idea- but an idea nonetheless. 

Mini Fic

Sleepy Sloth Boi- Hey. Can you check up on Beel? He had a bit of a argument with Asmo today Sleepy Sloth Boi- Apparently he ate a homemade face  goop? IDK, it’s stupid.   Sleepy Sloth Boi- I would, but I’m stuck in a remedial class with Lucifer Sleepy Sloth Boi- I don’t know when I’ll be out-                                                                                     Ok! Is he in your room?-   Sleepy Sloth Boi- No, at the gym. Asmo called him and chewed him out. Didn’t go well. Trainers called me. He busted up some equipment and might have eaten someone... They want him out.                                                                                  Oh... K I’ll head over now-

You frown down at your D.D.D and stuff it in your bag. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. You had heard stories of his terrible temper when hungry. Most of the time you have seen him just mope, huddled up in the kitchen eating his feelings. He was always open to talk though and you usually could convince him out of the kitchen so Lucifer didn’t have an aneurysm over a barren fridge.

The gym isn’t far from the house. A short tram ride and a walk down a couple of familiar streets. You have spent every Saturday morning with Beel there, spotting him. Not that you really could. With the amount of weights he was dead lifting, but he appreciated the company nonetheless. You ring up the front desk dashing across the street. It goes straight to voicemail. Crap it must be bad. You round the corner right before the gym and skid to a halt. Glass and metal litter the cobble street. The shards flicker off the lights of the street lamps drawing your eye to the sheer amount of damage around you. Some equipment even stuck out of the wall adjacent to you.

You make your way closer. “Human! Tis’ not the best time to be here. We are having a bit of an issue.” A terrified trainer scuttled towards you, mandible clicking in alarm. “You best turn back. We don’t need your body littering the streets too.” They wave a three fingered claw back up the street. On cue a weightlifting machine was launched through the remaining window exploding on impact with the road. A few more trainers run out after it, yelling and pushing at each other to get out of the way. A dark black mist bellows out after them.

Well shit.

“I’m actually here to try and help.” You smile down at the tiny demon trying to instill some false confidence in them. You think you could handle this. You didn’t want to call in the cavalry to get him. Knowing Beel, it would only trigger his guilty conscience. “If you could give me a moment.” Ignoring the little creature you creep forward, careful of the broken glass and praying that no more equipment got launched.

“Beel?” You call out peaking your head through the gaping hole on the side of the gym. "Hey, Belphie texted me. Wanna talk about it?” The inside of the gym was dark. Wires hung and sparked dangerously in front of you. A large burst pipe blocked most of your vision. “Beel?” You could hear his loud bone chilling breathing. He was close.

“Careful.” You jump swallowing the curse that threatened to slip out. Beelzebub emerged from the darkness at the back of the gym. His eyeless face locking onto you. “You are close to a line.” His many mouths move in unison. Some rumbling as he spoke, others just drawing in rasping wheezing breaths.

“Thanks.” You jump back onto the street. “You wanna come out? You look a bit cramped.”  He was comically too large for the allotted space. His goliath sized body packed into a little sardine can. He rattles for a bit considering. You cock your head to the side looking at the empty street. “Plenty of room out here.” You wave at your sole spectator and give them a small thumbs up. They blink in horror over your shoulder. Eyes locked on the beast emerging.

“I’m sorry.”  He drags himself  out. Thick steel like claws causing the little trainer hiding behind you to whimper. Beel’s fingers dig into the stone and mortar. Oph- this was going to cost a bit to fix.

“It’s ok big guy-happens to the best of us.” You say casually. Once he was outside he shivers in the cool afternoon air. His bones creak as you approach him. “May I touch you?” You approach hand raised. He never cared if you touched him in his human form. It centered him a lot of the time. He enjoyed the feel of your soft and giving flesh against his smooth hard skin. But this form was slightly more dangerous for you well being.

Beel shakes his head at your movement melding back into the dark hole. His mouths open wide to release a plume of black smoke. The trainer cries out, scurrying back further down the street. You hold your ground however. Chin up definitely, unafraid at what you knew was coming. The thick black vapor coats your skin. It latches on to you and seeps through your pores. You feel him in the back of your mind running through your head, searching for something. You breathe slowly, letting him shuffle through your psyche.

You feel a flush of warmth, a near giddiness that brings an uncontrollable smile to your face before it is gone. Snuffled out like a candle in the wind. A slow chilling tingling begins in all of  your extremities as he feeds off your emotions. He pulls at your center, eating away at your mental state. An odd empty ache blooms in your chest, you need to untangle yourself before he bled you dry.

He pulls back then, knowing when he has gone too far. The pallor of his skin is richer now. A darker grey than before. The waxing sheen gone and replaced with a deep purple hue underneath. His cobweb like veins thumping with life. “Thanks~” His rattles remerging onto the street. His oblong head nudges your shoulder, checking on you. You pat at it, careful of the mouths and razor sharp teeth.

“Of course; don’t mention it.” You turn on weak knees to the trainer. Looking at complete ease with the cardinal sin currently wrapping his many limbed and mouthed body around your comparatively tiny frame. “I guess this is not super common?” You ask, waving at the destruction. They shake their head.

“He-he ate Gordin.”

“Ah-ye. He does that. Sorry.” At a loss, they accept the sleek business card you thrust at them with your free hand. “Call Mr. Morningstar. He can work on the repair finances with the manager.”

“But Gordi-” You wince as the little demon’s mandibles tremble, voice getting frantic. Could demons shed tears? You were about to find out.

“Beel?” Cupping his large head you stare at him, eyes traveling over his face. His mouths snap shut, body turning smooth. The only movement from his was his hearts beating steady beneath his translucent skin. He stood still like a statue carved by a deranged artist. “Beel.” You say again more firmly. You step away from his hooked fingers. “Spit them out.”

He doesn’t move. His inner rattling becoming louder and more defensive.

You roll your eyes and look back exasperatedly with a shrug. The other demon stares speechless in terror. Or with the dawning realization of just how absurd this whole situation was. You turn back to Beel, fists balled on your hips. “If you don’t I guess I’m going to eat all these snacks I brought.” The death rattle stops. You could feel his full focus on you now aghast. “I’m serious. Mammon even went and bought those new limited release batwing chips too, extra spicy.”  

He hacks suddenly, back arching like a cat as a large seam opens on his skin where his stomach (stomachs?) region was. A bulky demon covered in purple viscous sludge tumbles to the ground with a wet squelch. Their skin was a sickly color and their eyes wide in terror.

“Gordi!” The other trainer pushes past you and grabs at the trembling demon, pulling him away from the hungry mouths.

“Thanks, Beelzebub.” You walk him quickly down the abandoned streets once the two others had fled. He lopes behind you, gaunt body swaying in the light breeze. Once you hit the more crowded streets he moves closer to your back. Other demons on the street give you a wide berth, eyeing and swatting at a few straying arms or fingers that attempt to grab them or their things. You move quickly, hoping to avoid having to scold him again for eating more demons.

“I’m sorry.” Beel croaks once more when you finally come to a stop at an empty park bench. He sits next to it expectantly. The grass and foliage around him weathering and turning to dust at his touch. His arms subconsciously start stuffing the dried grass and flowers into his many mouths.

“It’s ok.” You repeat yourself coming to rest on the park bench. Without preamble you dump the contents of your bag onto the ground. He croons in delight at the mound of snacks being pushed to him. “Eat up. Take a breather and then we can talk. If you want.” With that he dives in.

Beel munches in silence, mismatched limbs unwrapping-or not- the treats and popping them into his little mouths. You watch for a bit before getting preoccupied with a book you borrowed from Satan. You don’t know how much time passes before a boney finger pokes at your forearm. The same arm then hovers by your nose offering you a pudding cup.

“Ah, thank you!” You close your book and take the flan pudding. He had finished most of the food and had calmed considerably. Most of the mouths have disappeared, closing as they were sated. He scoots closer, the oppressive neediness of his sin dulled to an almost non existent thumping in your stomach. Easy enough to ignore, especially now with a sweet treat boosting your mood. “Feeling any better?”

Beel grunts, scratching at his knobby spine. You watch him for a moment. Reading his emotions in this form was hard. Thankfully, you knew the reason for the outburst this time. First time you stumbled upon him like this  had been an absolute circus. A terrifying, and destructive circus. He had been in full form that night. Locusts and clawed fingers moving in blurs, swiping at everything that came near. The younger brothers screaming at him over the sounds of breaking furniture and the buzz of insect wings. They dodged around his tantrum trying to calm him before Lucifer returned from a meeting.

“It’s a damned ice cream cup!” Satan roars, close to shifting himself. The tell tale heat of his body starting to radiate out and singe the carpet beneath his feet. Beel screeches back, flies and spittle spraying out over them. Asmo yelps and  drags you out of the room with him.

“Ugh! The moment he gets all gross and buggy I’m out.” He shudders, locking the door on the apocalypse happening on the other side. “Hopefully Mammon can slow Lucifer down so they can neaten up.”

“Is he going to be ok?” You look back watching the solid door shudder under the weight of a body being thrown.

Asmodues sucks his teeth dismissively, bright nails clicking away at his phone. You glance at it seeing that he had messaged Mammon to bring some take out too. “Oh ye, this happens from time to time. He just has to let off some steam. Then we can stuff him with food and he’ll be right as rain. You want anything hun’?” You shake your head stunned by his carefree attitude as the house shook around them.

Beel had come to apologize for his behavior later that night. His human form a little banged up, but no worse for wear. You went out for ice cream in hopes to cheer him up. Offering an ear too if he needed an outsider's perspective. You were also curious about his true nature and had a thousand and one questions to ask. He was apprehensive at first. It was clearly a sore subject for him. But over time he opened up, speaking freely about his struggles and fears of destroying his family's already shaky foundation with his gluttony.

“Asmo is furious with me.” He sighs, bringing you back to the present. He rests his head on your shoulder, careful with his weight.

“He’ll get over it.” You stroke his cool skin tapping at a closed mouth. It opens and licks your finger. It was as close to a kiss as this form could get to. “It’s not like he can’t make more.” Beel huffs, rubbing his head into the soft fabric of your sweater.

“I am nothing but a burden to them aren’t I.”

“Never.” You don’t hesitate. He grumbles unconvinced. “Hey,” You nudge him off your shoulder to look at him. “Remember last Saturday? How you helped Levi get his limited edition statue?”

“I just stood in a line.” He pouts. “And I only did that because I ate his Ruri-chan mochi’s.” Oh- you didn’t know that part.

“Well, I still think you’re a good brother.” You cover. “ Tell me, would any of the others do the same? You beat yourself up over every little mistake. How many times has Asmo or Mammon swiped one of your snacks?” He hums contemplatively, nails clacking on the concrete.

“But I always lash out when they do that.” You nod kicking your feet up to lounge on the bench, back resting against his. Grabbing at a set of arms you wrap them around your waist playing with the fingers that weren’t razor sharp.

“Yes, and? Asmo just did too. Runs in the family by the looks of it.” You chuckle. “ So why should you be the only one not allowed to get upset? But next time call before rampaging through the city, K?” You smile up at his monstrous visage. He smiles back hesitantly before coming closer.

Beelzebub nips you gently with his primary mouth. Large fangs careful not to break the skin. A cute little display of gratitude. He tastes your sincerity on you. Sweet and smooth on his tongue. “Thanks,” He rumbles. Cradling you close, he rises to his full height. “I think I’m ready to head back now.”

You snuggle into his unyielding body checking your wrist watch. “Yeah big guy? Guess it is almost dinner time.”

He picks up the pace.  

[lunaslethifold]

A Summer in Ottery St. Catchpole: Part 2 (George Weasley x Potter!Reader)

Pairing: George Weasley x Female!Potter!Reader

Series Synopsis: Y/N Potter used to have a huge crush on George Weasley. She could hardly even function around him. Now fresh out of a long relationship, she can say with confidence that those feelings she harbored for years are gone. George, on the other hand, had barely even acknowledged her existence. But now that Y/N is more comfortable around him, he starts to see the real her. George starts to see her in a new light. Boy, is that bad news for him.

Warnings: none, I think. (let me know if I missed any!)

Word Count: ~2.8k

Find the other works in this series in my masterlist (pinned and linked in my bio :))

A/N: Thank you all so much for the support on this series! If anyone’s wondering, I have about 7 parts planned for this series. I’m very excited to continue it and thank you so much for your nice messages! I apologize if there are any delays for me releasing parts, it’s because I have a lot of work to do :( Anyways, enjoy and let me know what you think! Sorry for any grammar mistakes!

Y/N and Fred were bored. Very bored. So much so, in fact, that Y/N was going through her trunk. For fun. Fred was sat on the bed, watching her. How could they be so bored so early in the morning? There was no reason to be up, yet here they were.

“You know…” Y/N started, surveying the books she just pulled out of her trunk. “I could use a new muggle book to read. I’ve already read all these twice over,” she said, tossing them carelessly back in. “Maybe I’ll ask Hermione if she’s got any.”

Fred sat up and grinned. “Or…” he said, letting the anticipation grow for a second. “We could go find some new ones from the shop in the village.”

Y/N stood up from her spot, a new light in her eye at the opportunity to do something fun. “Fred, that sounds like a wonderful idea.”

-

Somehow the whole gang was roped into joining their trip to town. Fred invited George, for obvious reasons. Then, Y/N thought Hermione might want to visit the bookshop as well. Ginny overheard and was happy to accompany her friends. The five of them ran into Ron, who was holding a pair of gardening gloves that were missing 3 fingers. He had told the group not to ask, and so they didn’t, instead inviting him to find a replacement at one of the local shops, albeit with a little laughter. And wherever Ron went, Harry followed. 

By mid morning the seven of them had begun the short trek to town. Y/N seemed to already be cured of her boredom, as she was laughing loudly with Ginny and Harry. Ron and Hermione led the group, the former of the two still a bit embarrassed by his glove situation, and the latter excited at the prospect of new reading material. Y/N walked a little bit behind them, with Harry and Ginny on either side of her. Fred and George were at the back, talking about who knows what.

Suddenly, Y/N stopped in her tracks, pointing at the large tree that was a few yards away from them. She glanced at the two people beside her, and then took off running towards it. Harry and Ginny yelled something at her, before running after her. The three of them began to race up the tree, stopping only to yell at each other. Ron and Hermione hadn’t stopped walking towards their destination. Fred let out a light chuckle at their antics before also continuing on. But George didn’t. Fred looked to his side, about to say something to his twin, only to find he wasn’t standing there. He turned around and saw George watching the tree intently. Fred walked back to him.

“Oi, mate, you alright?” Fred said to George.

George didn’t look at him. His eyes were still trained in the direction of Y/N. “Does Y/N seem… different to you?” George said, breaking the silence.

“Different?” Fred replied, a little puzzled. “No.” George finally turned to look at him as Harry, Ginny, and Y/N began to climb down from the branches of the tree. He saw that Fred looked like he was contemplating saying something.

“What is it?” George asked, now curious to know what his brother wasn’t telling him. 

Fred looked around to see if anyone was within earshot. Ron and Hermione were already far ahead past the hill, while the other three were starting to climb up it. He lowered his voice. “Alright, I’m only telling you this because it’s in the past now, and I never keep anything from you. But you can’t tell anyone, alright?” Fred said with a serious look on his face. George nodded sincerely. “Well…” George leaned in. “Y/N used to fancy you, so she didn’t feel comfortable around you. But now she’s over it, so I reckon she’s acting more normal,” he said, shrugging. 

George gaped at Fred. Did she really have a crush on him? If he would have known… 

If he would have known, what? George shook his head. Snap out of it, he thought. You just think she’s pretty, that’s all. And she’s nice. And funny...

George remembered Fred was looking at him. “Y/N Potter? Had a crush? On me?”

“No, I’m talking to the tree,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Yes, you. Well, now that you’re seeing the real her, maybe you can be friends.” Fred began to walk up the hill, clearly ready to join the others.

“Yeah… friends.”

- 

A relaxing tune played as the nice smell of fresh paper filled the air. Y/N, Harry, Fred, and George were scouting out the horror section of the bookshop. Ginny had followed Hermione to the romance shelves and Ron was poking around the knick knacks at the front of the shop. 

George was still reeling from the piece of information that Fred had given him earlier in the day. He was trying to act casual, but he felt as if he was hyper aware of everything Y/N said or did. The heart in his chest seemed to race whenever she looked at or talked to him. 

Y/N had a deep, contemplative expression on her face. It was almost comical. Her hand reached out and she nicked one of the books off the shelf. “Look Harry, this book is about me,” she said, trying to contain her laughter. She shoved the cover in front of them. It was titled The Babysitter.

“Wha-” Harry sputtered for a moment. “You’re only one year older than me-” 

Y/N broke into quiet laughter at Harry’s reaction. Fred, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care about how much noise he was making and began to laugh loudly. George chuckled too, and one could even see Harry trying to cover up a smile. Several heads turned their way. George couldn’t help but grin at Y/N’s joyful expression. 

“That was incredibly lame, Y/N,” Fred said through his laughter.

She giggled and said, “Maybe, yes, but at least I’ll never be as lame as you.” For some reason, George found this incredibly funny and laughed even more.

As they quieted down, people stopped looking at them. Except for one boy standing nearby. He was a muggle, probably, and George wouldn’t have noticed him if it weren’t for Y/N. The boy’s eyes seemed to be trained specifically on her. His grin faltered slightly. And the worst part? Y/N noticed he was looking at her. She looked up at him and met his eyes. Her lips turned up in a half smile at him. The boy smiled back at her. George panicked for a second before quickly picking up a random book off the shelf.

“Hey, Y/N look at this one,” he said, stepping in front of her, effectively blocking Y/N from the view of the muggle. What are you doing?!, he thought, suddenly a little embarrassed. She smiled at him and leaned over to see what he was holding. All ill feelings he had seemed to wash away as he looked at her. George was holding the book upside down, sure, but it seemed to distract Y/N enough as she gently took the book out of his hands and began to read the back. 

“You know what, this actually does look interesting. I think I’ll take it,” she said, grinning at him. “Thanks, George.” He swelled with pride as she added it to the other two books in the basket that was hanging on her arm. “Cmon, let's go see if Hermione’s done.” He smiled at his sheer dumb luck and followed after her.

-

Y/N was having a pretty good day. She was spending time with her friends, eating candy from the local sweets shop, and had three new books in her bag. She felt like this was a day to remember, a stark contrast to how she had felt in the morning. Everyone was lounging around in the square of the town, looking at the windows of shops or the vendors on the street.

Y/N had her arms linked with Hermione's and Ginny's as they merrily walked to a nearby flower cart. She stopped to examine and smell her favorite flower. 

"Why don't you take it?" the woman who was selling them said.

"Oh, I couldn't-" Y/N started, surprised at the offer.

"Please, what's one flower? Plus, it would look lovely tucked behind your ear," she said, smiling warmly.

"Thank you very much," Y/N said, smiling back. She followed her advice and carefully placed it on her ear. 

She almost skipped away, feeling like her day was just made 10 times better. She joined Hermione and Ginny on a bench nearby, basking in the sun that shone on her face. It was a bit cloudy that day, but the spot they were at had the perfect amount of sunshine on it. 

The three girls chatted there for a few minutes, before a loud roar of thunder could be heard from above. Within a matter of seconds a downpour of rain began, and everyone was scrambling for cover. They took cover at a cafe nearby, where they found the rest of the gang. Harry, Ron, and Fred were sat in a booth and Hermione and Ginny squeezed in next to them. George was standing nearby, eying the summer rain through the window.

"I reckon I'll get us some drinks, yeah?" Y/N said, surveying her friends. She made her way to the counter where a longer than usual line was beginning to form, likely due to the amount of people trying to escape the rain. She stood near the counter, reading the menu written in chalk on the blackboards. She decided what to order and joined the end of the line. Someone took their place after her and tapped her shoulder. Y/N whipped around, a little startled. Her eyes met a boy whose face she oddly recognized, but couldn’t place her finger on it.

“Hey there,” he said, smiling at her.

Y/N smiled back politely. “Umm, hello!”

“I recognized you from the bookshop. Do you read horror often?” the boy said. That’s where she recognized him from! Earlier at the bookshop, when she was browsing the horror section with her friends, they had exchanged smiles. 

“Oh, I remember now. Yeah, I’d say I enjoy it from time to time,” Y/N replied.  

“You like horror books and you’re in my favorite coffee shop? A girl after my own heart,” he said. Y/N let out a small laugh. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Y/N Potter.”

He stuck out his hand. “Michael Smith.” She took his hand and shook it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

-

When the rain had started, George was with Fred, Ron, and Harry. Fred and Ron were arguing about something in Ron’s shopping bag, and Harry was laughing at them. George was leaning on the alley wall, only partly listening to what they were saying. Normally he would’ve found it hilarious, but something else was in the back of his mind. It was like a looming cloud; everytime George stepped into the sunlight, it made its way back to him, invading his thoughts. 

Sensing that the conversation would not be ending anytime soon, George slowly let his mind wander. He thought about earlier in the day, when Fred had revealed Y/N’s secret to him. How long had she fancied him for? When did she “get over,” as Fred had said, her crush on him? Probably after Kenneth, George thought. That was when the change began. He thought back to that day, when she had bounded up to him and Fred in the corridor. Y/N had looked so excited at the idea of going with him. Okay, maybe there was something behind how she looked at him. How could he have been so blind to her feelings? I mean, she spent almost every bloody summer with us, he thought. Fred called his name and brought him back to reality. Snap out of it, George thought to himself. Why are you even worried about this anyways? It’s not like there’s any reason to dwell on it.

Just then the sound of thunder filled the air and a summer shower started. The four of them pulled out of the alleyway and into the nearest shop. Soon, Hermione, Ginny, and Y/N came in. Everyone except George and Y/N were sat in a booth. He stood nearby, looking out the window. 

George always liked the rain. For some, it ruined their day. But not for him. It was loud and spontaneous. It came out of nowhere and was basically unpredictable. A recipe for disaster. But not for George. It was calming, in a sense. He liked to look out the window and watch the droplets hit the pavement or soak into the dirt outside. 

So, yeah, he was a fan of the rain. But as he noticed Y/N waiting in line, he wished he had paid less attention to the weather outside and more attention to what was happening inside. He registered that Y/N was going to get them drinks. He had never really noticed it before, but now that he thought about it, it seemed that Y/N always knew what everyone’s order would be. George wondered if she made an effort to remember, or if it was just accidental. Either way, the thought brought a wide smile to his face. It warmed his heart that she so subtly showed she cared in small ways. But, when he looked up from the window he saw something that left an unsavory taste in his mouth. 

Y/N was standing in line, talking to a muggle. And not just any muggle, mind you, but the same muggle that was trying to look at her in the bookshop. George clenched his jaw as a scowl made its way to his face. There was just something about the way he was looking at her. Or maybe, the way that he had shook her hand. It made his blood absolutely boil. He saw Y/N laugh at something he said and George forced himself to tear his gaze away from them and to his shoes. His arms seemed to cross in annoyance on their own.

“Oi! What’s got your boxers in a bunch, George?” a voice brought him out of his fit. It was Fred, who had a lopsided grin on his face, with a hint of concern behind it that only certain people could recognize.

George plastered a half smile onto his face and said, “Nothing.” Fred sent him a questioning look, but hummed in acknowledgement. George tried to shake off the lingering, icky feeling that he felt. What was that feeling, anyways? He stood still for a moment, mulling it over, before he realized. Oh no, was George jealous? No, there was no way. He couldn’t be… could he? It’s just that she’s been around for so long, it’s natural that he’d be protective. Unless…

No, no, no. C’mon, it was out of the realm of possibilities. But the truth was that what he felt was undeniable. It was jealousy. 

But why? Why was he jealous of seeing Y/N talk with that boy who was so obviously interested in her? There was only one possibility that came to mind. Do I… fancy Y/N?, he thought to himself, biting his lip in thought. He shook his head lightly. It couldn’t be. But then why was he acting this way? He was having an internal battle in his brain.

 Bloody hell, he thought, I guess I do fancy Y/N. It was a wild thought, really. This girl who he had known since he was twelve quickly and suddenly captured his attention. 

George took a second to bask in the feeling of his revelation. A giddy smile made its way to his face. It was freeing almost, admitting to himself that he had a crush. He sighed and shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. At that moment, Y/N began to make her way over to them, balancing two drink holders in her arms. She set them down on the booth table, and began to pass them out to everyone. Choruses of “thanks” could be heard. 

Finally, she pulled the last cup out and walked over to George. She handed it to him, with a dazzling smile on her face. Well, dazzling to George at least. It was probably just a friendly one to her.

“Here you go, just the way you like it,” she said, before pulling up a chair to the booth. George’s cheeks heated up as he gazed at her. She was so beautiful, even here after a day of walking around in town. 

Maybe, just maybe, he could buck up the courage to ask her out.

Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it! 

[terrence-silver]

Okay, since you're clearly into William Zabka (among others), Karate Kid, the 80's AND bad guys as a whole, you should write some headcanons for a Yandere! Greg Tolan from Just One of the Guys (1985)?

- The more he likes you, the more antagonistic he tends to get with you, especially if you don’t fit the stereotypical mold of what a popular, handsome, muscular jock like him should date - but, even if you do - all the better, not that it makes a difference, in the long run - he views you, initially, like a cute little chew toy he’d just adore to squeeze, pester and intimidate just for the sheer sadistic fun of it. You know that feeling when something’s just so irresistibly fluffy and soft and you just have the subconscious, intrusive primal urge smother it to death with your bare hands? No? Yeah, well, that’s because you’re not Greg Tolan in love.

- Furthermore, the line between bullying and being enamoured for him is pretty blurred as such. He shoves you around, pulls your hair, teases you, mocks you, pinches you - but, so help me, if anyone else tries to he’ll be in their face about it pretty quick. Because you’re his turf. Even bullying you is something he feels is only his right and privilege to do, and nobody else’s - you’re his favourite person to bother in school and mainly because he’s a petty, macho dummie who can’t express his affections properly, so he’ll make sure to stay etched in your memory and preoccupy all your thoughts the only way he knows how; by being a jerk he won’t allow you to forget.

- Tends to arrogantly, dismissively and pretty boisterously scoff at your interests, your likes, your dislikes, your hobbies, you talents. Makes it seem like it’s all dumb nonsense to him, but he also has a suspicious amount of knowledge about literally everything you’re into. And everything you’re not into. To an almost creepy degree. That band you like? Yeah, Greg knows all about it in tiny details and he thinks it’s stupid. That project you’re working on? Yeah, Greg’s informed on that too and the thinks the progress you’re making is trite. You also wore uhh yellow socks with your uhh size so-and-so sneakers yesterday and they had a print on them that Greg thought looked really dumb too.

- Does desperately want your approval, though. Is pretty starved for it, in fact. Greg Tolan probably doesn’t pine for anyone’s admiration as much as he does for yours and that’s where his insecurity and vulnerability comes in. He wants you to admire his looks. His physique. His athletic skills. The way he lifts. Everything. And he’ll get it out of you any way he knows how. By putting himself on your way. By humblebragging. By showing off. By flirting and then pretending it’s merely a prank. A joke. Even by projecting when he cruelly teases you that you’re into him. Someone who’s so out of your league. Poor you. In reality, it’s actually him who’s awfully into you. He really just wants that idea in your mind. You and him together. If he has to plant the seed via a joke, then so be it.

- Oh, my though - does he get jealous! Does he ever! Some dude talked to you in the cafeteria? Someone complemented your outfit? Someone even vaguely expressed the randomest desire of asking you out? Someone voiced their liking of you, even if only platonic? Hooo, boy! You don’t even have to be his for him to feel like all these people are trespassing on something that’s already his in his mind. He perhaps doesn’t even know why or doesn’t wanna admit to it even to himself, but he gets irrationally fired up when he hears people speaking about you. Everything within him screams that that’s his person, and naturally, he’ll express it in a typical Greg Tolan way; by throwing whoever dared to bring you up across the school hallway.

- But, for all his shortcomings, somehow, in some way, Greg is always close by. He always tries to engage with you, even if mockingly. Even if annoyingly. He’s always tailing behind you. Always in your personal space. Always stealing things out of your locker or backpack (which he keeps) - goading you to chase him. Practically forcing you to dedicate time and attention to him, even if you don’t want to. For someone who claims not to like you, he sure as heck lingers around you constantly, even if he’s currently dating someone else. In fact, he’ll probably invest more time in pestering you then being a boyfriend to whoever he’s with.

- Undoubtedly got in fights over you. Several times, I’d say. In fact, I imagine it’s a common occurrence with Greg. You yourself, the object of his arguments with other students, never know why he got into a fight or what was the exact reason behind it; long story short, it’s always you. Someone plans asking you out to prom and Greg overhears it in the locker-room he’ll probably tear into this person so badly that everyone else will probably be too afraid of even considering asking you out again. He’d rather you go alone or not at all then  with someone he considers a threat. Or even better - go out with him instead. He’ll make it seem like he’s doing it out of obligation or pity - making jokes at the expense of the situation he himself orchestrated. But, really deep down, he’s ecstatic.

[bffsoobin]

Iced Chai

↳ you had a small obsession with drinking iced chai lattes between class, and it just so happened that the coffee store on campus had the best ones. when a new barista replaces the one who used to make your drink, you put him to the test. he makes the most wonderful iced chai you’d ever had. he’s also one of the most handsome boys you ever seen on campus.

➤ fluff, college!au, shy barista!hueningkai

Word Count:3,830

A/N: yes, this fic is very much influenced by my massive love for iced chai lattes and the way I consumed them up until March when we had to leave campus. Sadly I didn’t have any cute boys serving me :(. Anywho, I hope you enjoy it! Please keep in mind that I haven’t proofread, so there may be some small mistakes!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

Calculus was a pain in the ass. Obviously, you knew this well before you scheduled for your freshmen year of college, but there was no way to avoid the reality handed to you by your major. So every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning at 8 am you endured the rambling lectures of your less than spry professor who could barely work his desktop computer. You tried your best to pay attention, you really did, but there was only so much you could do when the conversation shifted from tangent lines to the best way to reheat fast food french fries.

As you doodled in the margins of your lined notebook, your mind wandered to the only good thing sitting through this class does for you. Other than the credits. As soon as the clock struck 9am, you had a date with the on campus café. The roughly hour break between the end of calculus and the beginning of chemistry gave you the perfect window to enjoy some alone time. Homey, student run and always playing some version of a coffee shop playlist; the place was your haven on campus. Not only did you love the atmosphere and the fact that it was the best place on campus to study, but they also serve the best iced chai latte you’d ever encountered. The thought of the drink alone made your mouth salivate. From your first hesitant order, you had become hooked. Within your first week on campus, you had easily drank 10 cups of the chilled goodness before your roommate expressed concern for the sheer amount of sugar and dairy you’d been consuming. 

Due to the timing of your tri-weekly trips, you had always been served by the same lovely barista, Rachael. She was stylish, down to earth and always told you a good joke when you showed up looking especially out of it. Most importantly, something about the way she mixed the drink convinced you that she surely was sent from the heavens.

When your graying professor finally let your class go for the day, you walked on clouds to your favorite spot on campus. It had rained during class so the air was chilled and the ground was still damp. The telltale scent of rain invaded your senses and a chill ran through you. Most people would be craving a hot coffee or steaming cup of tea- but all you desired was the smooth flavor of your favorite drink. The walk to your beloved café wasn’t long, but you always found yourself in a bit of a rush to get there as soon as you possibly could. In a moment of carelessness, you stepped right into a rather large puddle and soaked one of your feet right through your shoes and your sock. Disgusting you thought as you finally arrived at the door. The handle was slick with moisture thanks to the weather, but you wiped your hand onto your sweatshirt as you stepped inside and let the familiar scent of coffee grounds occupy your mind. Your shoulders relaxed simply at the relaxed atmosphere.

A few students who also frequented around this time were sitting at their usual tables, and you waved at them politely before taking yourself- and your squelching shoe- over to the small booth you’d come to know and love. You ditched your bookbag on the table with a thud, feeling secure with the knowledge of your agreement with the girl who sat at the table next to you to keep an eye on your things. 

As you headed toward the counter, you belatedly noticed that the line seemed a bit more backed up than usual. It wasn’t too big of a concern, as your college was relatively small and waiting an extra five minutes would by no means ruin your timing. It was just curious. Usually Rachael ran the counter with the ease of an experienced sailor, but that ease seemed to be missing today. Nevertheless, the line inched forward steadily. Engrossed in your phone, you hadn’t noticed the glaring difference in your routine until you got to the cash register. While placing your plastic ID card over the scanner, you chirped “just my usual, Rachael!” 

Despite what your mind told you would happen next- she would laugh, say okay, maybe ask about class while handing over a receipt- you were met with an awkward stutter that your trusty barista certainly didn’t make. 

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know your usual,” upon finally looking up, your brain processed the sight of a new boy. A new gorgeous boy. Did they only hire beautiful people here? His black hair was falling into his eyes, charmingly shaggy and exposing just enough of his forehead to make you oddly wish you could see more. His cheeks were dusted in a light pink blush that both charmed you and made you feel bad at the same time. He seemed so fresh. Upon further inspection, you caught his handmade name tag written in slightly shaky handwriting that was so cutely boyish. Hueningkai. He had decorated one corner with a smiley face and the other with a drawing of a coffee bean that looked suspiciously like nothing more than a dark brown blob with a small accent line down the middle. 

“I’m sorry, Hueningkai,” you didn’t miss the way his eyes widened slightly at the use of his name, “usually Rachael is here to take my order. But I’ll take a large iced chai latte, please.” He nodded quickly, reverting his eyes to the LED screen which his eyes bounced around for a few seconds before he finally found the correct button. This must have been why the line seemed abnormally long. As the sound of your receipt printing filled the silence, you asked; “first day?” 

A melodious laugh fell from his lips, causing a scrunch of his perfectly pointed nose that you felt honored to have seen as he stepped away from the register to start making your drink. “That obvious, huh?” Another worker came to take his spot and serve the next student but you followed Hueningkai to his new destination. For as shy as he was at the cash register, he moved with much more confidence when it came to actually making drinks. His earlier hesitation was totally gone as he got to work mixing up your drink. In his new position, you could get a better look at his hands, adorned in simple silver jewelry that embarrassingly made your breath catch in your throat. His actions were over almost as quickly as they began, and his earlier hesitation seemed to return as he slid the drink to you over the granite counter top. You grasped at it eagerly in the same moment he reached to balance a straw on top of the lid. 

For a brief moment your fingers lingered and your mind went wild at the absurdity that you honestly felt sparks pass between the two of you. 

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he mumbled, dipping his head down awkwardly as he finally tore his hand away. You smiled back earnestly, hoping to make him understand that you weren’t bothered at all by the contact. 

Back at the safety of your table, you took a second to collect yourself. Surely you were overreacting to the small interaction. After all, you were already having a pretty weird day. Looking down at your clear cup, you remembered the beginning of your dilemma- the absence of amazing barista Rachael. Hueningkai was adorable, but could his skills hold up to the woman who made drinks you literally dreamed about? Tentatively, you took a sip of the drink and immediately cocked your head to the side. On the off chance your taste buds had totally deceived you, you took another long swig from the cup. 

Hueningkai’s drink was even better than Rachael’s.

——

The next morning, you awoke before your alarm even started to beep. Thursdays meant no class until 1 o’clock, so you had almost all the time in the world to catch up on assignments and homework and do your errands. Instead of doing anything constructive, you found yourself craving yet another iced chai latte. As you voiced this desire to your roommate, she looked at you as if you’d just admitted to the murder of 4 people.

“Are you insane? Do you not remember how miserable you felt after drinking two a day? I can’t let you do that again. You can go to the café but at least drink something different!” You knew that she was right, but something inside of you- that shitty little perpetual teenage boy who hides in a corner of your mind- told you to do the exact opposite of what she said.

“I’m sorry,” you shuffled through the shirts hanging in your closet, the sound of the plastic hangers clicking together resonating in the otherwise quiet room. “But you have to go to class so there’s no way you can police me. Plus,” you pulled a shirt out of your closet and slid over to your cheap full length mirror to inspect yourself. “You didn’t see Hueningkai. He is...” your cheeks flushed as your roommate began to let out a high pitched squeal. “Shhh! The walls are thin!”

“Oh don’t act so scandalized. I guess it makes sense that you’d have a crush on the boy who feeds your addiction.” You rolled your eyes at her, lobbing a pair of rolled up socks in her direction in retaliation. They hit her side softly before bouncing to the floor dejectedly. “You,” she pointed a finger your way as you rooted through your drawer for a pair of jeans, “are ridiculous. Have fun with your dreamy boy while I’m at class.”

Despite the familiarity of the path to the café, you still felt a bit out of place making the trip on a Thursday. Even the other students passing you by felt wrong in a way you couldn’t quite place. There was also the lingering worry that Hueningkai wasn’t even working today, and you’d show up to the small building just for a dose of disappointment. In you worried haze, you had barely noticed you arrived until the door was pushed open from the inside and a small pack of students held the door aside for you.

Inside of the building, a blanket of warm air surrounded your form and the faint smell of cinnamon drifted easily through the air. You were instantly calmed by the scent until someone bumped into your shoulder. With wide eyes, you looked around to see about double the amount of people your usual visits yielded. You were in no way prepared for the absolute mass of bodies that filtered between the tables and comfortable sitting areas. 

Feeling a bit lost, you put yourself into the line of waiting students and tried your best to peer over heads and around bodies to see if you could catch a glimpse of the barista that had captivated you so easily. It didn’t look like he was making drinks, but you held out hope that he was manning the register that was blocked from your sight. After what felt like forever, you reached the register and came face to face with...not Hueningkai. Despite your disappointment, there was no way you would turn down a drink, even made by a non-Hueningkai. 

Once you had the chilled cup cradled in your hands, you took a hopeless look around at the full dining room. Almost every table looked to be occupied, and some students had even resorted to leaning against the walls to chat and sip their drinks. The back of your neck began to heat up as you wandered around hoping for anyone to decide they were done and get up to leave. You had almost given up and decided to just go back to your dorm and lick your metaphorical wounds when a voice called your name. It only took a second of looking around to lock eyes with the one who was calling for you. 

Hueningkai. He had a light blush filling his cheeks as he waved a hand noncommittally your way. He looked ethereal sitting at the table, hot cup of something steaming next to his sticker covered laptop. His eyes were wide and adorably eager; akin to the look of a puppy who had just seen their owner after a long day. Your feet were working before your brain, so when you arrived to the table you had to scramble for an opener. 

“Hey! I was looking for you!” you winced. Way to go, Y/N. Out yourself on the second meeting. “I mean, uh,” you felt the cup in your hand start to slip with the sweat your palms produced, “I was hoping you’d make my drink again.” 

A smile spread like wildfire on Hueningkai’s face and his eyes crinkled adorably in the corners.

“You liked it that much?” His voice was meek, oddly shy for the way he beamed up at you with so much ease. 

“Yeah! It was really good. Even better than Rachael’s, to be honest.”

“Really? She was the best barista here!” He brought a hand up to his mouth in shock. 

“Yeah, really! Anyway, I can get going if you...you look busy,” you gestured toward his open laptop and drink that you were sure was rapidly cooling the longer you distracted him. 

“No!” he blurted the word before visibly flinching at his actions. At least it wasn’t just you feeling like a fumbling idiot. “I called you over cause it looked like you needed a seat? And if you want to sit with me, you can. I’m just working on a presentation and you won’t distract me, I promise.” There was no way you could deny the eagerness lacing his voice, so you pulled the chair opposite him across the floor and settled in. 

----

“That sounds like a date. A hangout at the very least,” your roommate asserted as she typed some code into her computer. 

“It was not a date!” You whined, glaring up at your ceiling from your spot on your twin XL. “He just saw me looking for a place to sit and offered.” She scoffed. 

“Yeah, and then he proceeded to ignore his homework to talk to you. And then he asked if you were coming back to the cafe tomorrow. And then he-” 

“Okay, I get it! But what am I supposed to do? Ask him out?” A bubble of nerves was resting heavily in your stomach at the thought. As much as you liked him, who were you to think that he wasn’t just being kind? When you voiced this concern to your roommate, she tossed her computer to the side and strode over to your bed to not-so-gently pull you out of it. Without an idea of what she was doing, you stood dumbly until she put on her slippers and drug you out of your room. 

“What are you doing? I didn’t even put my slippers on!” Your sock covered feet slid across the tile of the hallway as your roommate finally hauled you into the common room of your floor, where a few small groups had gathered to do various activities. 

“Hi everyone! My lovely roommate Y/N and I have a question for you. Do any of you know Hueningkai? He works at the cafe, really tall, music major?” A few people nodded in confusion, surely wondering why the hell one of the polite tenants of room 112 was conducting some kind of survey in the lounge. 

“Great. Has he ever shown interest in any of you? Asked you to sit with him in the cafe? Spent about an hour inquiring about your life instead of quietly working? Gave you his number?” Everyone who had previously nodded stood still, not moving an inch as they whispered between each other. “Okay, that’s all!” Your roommate left with no further elaboration as you called out a weak apology to everyone. Back in the safety of your room, you stared at her, scandalized. 

“What was that?” 

“That, my dear Y/N, was proof. He likes you!”

----

A nervousness you hadn’t felt since move in day was crawling through your body the closer the clock ticked to 9 am. Theoretically, you could just skip going to get a drink today, and therefore avoid the source of your nerves; but you knew that Hueningkai was expecting you to show. He had even sent you an eager text this morning with a series of heart wrenchingly adorable emojis. There was no way you could avoid him after that. 

Late fall weather had surely settled in today and you felt the chill settle into your bones as soon as you stepped out of the math building. For a few seconds, you stopped to watch a rough breeze rustle browning leaves across the concrete paths of campus before simply digging your hands further into your pockets. You had to power your way through this. Worse case scenario, he says no and you can never show your face on campus again. Simple. 

The door felt especially heavy under your hands as you hauled it open. The much more familiar, sparsely populated shop greeted you but only ratcheted up your nerves. With less people milling around, there was no way to delay your conversation with Hueningkai. As soon as you began to approach the counter, you could see him stumble over to the register before the other working student could even attempt to. He tried to casually lean his elbow onto the half wall to his left, but he miscalculated and ended up shyly tucking his hands into the front pocket of his apron. 

“Hi,” you swallowed the lump in your throat and hoped that he hadn’t notice the shake in your voice. The familiar beep of the card reader interrupted your worries momentarily as you heard the boy in front of you exhale a greeting. 

“Your usual?” He inquired as if he hadn’t already seen you with the drink two days in a row. Not trusting your voice, you simply nodded and waited for him to punch the order into the screen. His hand hesitated as he glanced up at you again. “You’re the only person I know still ordering cold drinks in this weather,” a teasing smile had blossomed on his pink lips and your heart jumped at the sight. 

“Well, I guess I’m just a bit stuck in my ways,” you followed him, as always, to the other side of the counter where orders were placed when finished. 

“I like that,” he commented as he grabbed a cup, “it makes my job a whole lot easier,” your eyes locked onto his hands out of instinct. Yesterday you had noticed the addition of a thin silver chain around his wrist, and you would be lying if you hadn’t spent a few minutes admiring the delicate chain contrasted against the strength of his hands. A pour of ice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you caught the back half of a question from him. 

“What’d you say?” You felt as if lava was bubbling right under the surface of your skin as you reeled in embarrassment. You couldn’t believe that you’d let yourself miss a chunk of conversation for something so stupid. 

“Oh,” he seemed equally embarrassed that you hadn’t heard him, and it hurt your heart a little to see the way his eyes shook. “I just wanted to know if you had a good night yesterday. I mean because you-you told me when we hung out that you had a lot of reading to do, and I wasn’t sure if you got it all done. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed with readings that I don’t do any of them, and Taehyun yells at me for that but I just can’t seem to stop doing it.” He was rambling, and you both knew it, but you let him continue as he shyly looked away in order to pour your drink over the ice. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I had an okay night. My roommate was a bit much, but I love her, so it was okay.” His eyebrow quirked softly at the mention of your roommate, but he seemed afraid to broach the subject just yet. He gave your drink a good swirl after sealing on the lid and slid it over the smooth counter to your waiting hand. Unlike the first time you had met, you had already grabbed a straw from the small display and plunged it into the drink. 

Although you should have walked away, something kept you rooted to the spot, Hueningkai seemed to be under the same kind of spell as he looked over his shoulder to see that no one else had lined up to be served quite yet. 

“Hey, I was wonderi-”

“This might be weird-”

Your sentences clashed in the air as you spoke at the exact same time. Your mouth hung open like a fish out of water and Hueningkai waved his hands around wildly in your direction. “Go ahead!” He enthused, looking as if he was going to melt into the floor as a side effect of interrupting you. 

“No, I mean, you can say your thing first, if you- if you want,” you offered weakly. 

“No, it’s okay, you definitely spoke first. G-go ahead,” he nodded rapidly in order to convince you further. You raised your eyebrows in a silent question of ‘are you sure?’, to which he nodded again. 

“Okay, I was wondering if you’d like to, uhm, go out sometime? On a date?” The words felt like weights rolling off of your tongue. Hueningkai blinked once, twice, a third time before he broke into a peal of laughter. A sudden wash of panic, as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over your head, filled your senses. This was it. You would have to transfer schools and change your hair color to get rid of this incident. Goodbye, life you had come to know and love. 

Hueningkai must have recognized your panic as he took a harsh breath and surged forward to reach for your arm. 

“Wait! I wasn’t laughing at you! It’s just that I was, um, also going to ask you out.” This time, a laugh bubbled up in your throat at the confession. 

“You’re right. That is pretty hilarious.” You admitted, feeling the tension around you totally dissipate. 

“Well, I think this bodes well for us. We’ve only known each other for a few days and we already have telepathy. My roommate will be so jealous. He’s been trying to meld our minds for weeks.” His personality was beginning to peak through when he spoke about his friends, you noticed. It was charming. He was charming. Not to mention, he still made the best damn iced chai latte you’d ever had.