#there are many words and things to say but maybe I shouldn’t speak them publicly

[personasintro]

bad word | kth drabble

⇢ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; one of the kids in your class curses and you make it your responsibility to break it to her dad, luckily you know him better than your co-workers

⇢ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff, smut, dilf!taehyung

⇢ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: protected sex, explicit language, age gap; taehyung is 35 and reader is 28 (although their age is not mentioned in the story, just the age difference of 7 years), mentions of smut, slight biting

⇢ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 6.4k+

𝒂/𝒏: commissioned anonymously! this was supposed to be 4k but here we go again, another proof that it's a challenge for me to write something short haha

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ☕️ | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

“You're doing amazing, Jihoon.” you praise the little boy, patting the top of his head as you glance at his coloring book. The coloring is a little bit off, actually a lot, but you can't really tell him that, can you? He seems to be encouraged by your praise, your heart beaming when he looks up at you and gives you a grin, his two front teeth missing.

You praise other kids at the table, somehow content how silent the room is. Well, apart from the occasional squeals, laughs and toys crashing down the floor every few seconds, but that's just something you got used to very quickly. Now it's just a noise you can listen to without having the need to go somewhere quiet. However, headaches make an occasional appearance once you get back home, the place empty from all the kids noises and their presence. You can't say you hate it though, you actually miss them a lot.

You wouldn't do this job if you didn't like kids. And these particular amazing and cute kids that you get to see five days a week somehow sneaked their way into your heart, so you easily have grown attached to them. You could not see them for one week and feel like they’ve grown too quickly. Not for nothing people say you can see the real time passing by on kids. It's true.

Making your way back to the teachers table, you reach for your bottle of water as you join your co-workers, having a heated conversation while kids have their own play-time without you interfering.

“No, no, no. Mr. Kim has to be the first. Hands down.” Sara says, shaking her head while your other co-worker Katana just chuckles mumbling something along the lines “You've got a point”.

“What are you guys talking about?” you ask them, opening the bottle while taking a few gulps.

“Just ranking the hottest daddies. Kim, Ivy's father is definitely and successfully holding the first place.” Sara waves her hand as if she's talking about weather and not about one of the kids' fathers that is in this very same room.

You choke up, a few droplets of water spilling down your chin as you quickly wipe it with the back of your hand. Katana and Sara burst into laughter, enjoying your sudden and shocked reaction while you glare at them.

“Y/N agrees for sure.” Katana smirks, causing you to frown at her.

“Don't you guys have something else to do?” you mutter, closing the bottle as you feel your heart racing, eyes silently searching for Ivy who's playing with one of the dolls putting them into a kids stroller.

Your heart softens at the sight, her pigtails still successfully holding, the ones you made her once she woke up from her nap time. She always asks you to do them, she can be very persistent when she wants to.

“Loosen up, Y/N. It's not like you don't think Mr. Kim is the perfect dilf out of all daddies here.”

Your head snaps towards Sara, eyes bulge out as you feel your whole face flash while your co-workers laugh at your reaction once again. Your heart beats harshly against your ribcage, feeling their eyes on you as you straighten yourself and clear your throat. Just as you're about to say something, Katana cuts you off before you even have a chance, her eyebrows lifted confidently. Maybe you should be happy they're continuing with the conversation rather than laughing at your reaction and finding you being more frustrated and red with each passing minute.

“He has someone. He clearly isn't with Ivy's mother,”

That's true. Ivy's mother is coming to pick her every second week and it's quite known they're not together. It's not like Ivy's father hides it and besides, Ivy's mother likes to show her frustration towards her ex-husband at every occasion and she definitely doesn't mind if she's doing it in front of her kid's teachers or in the kindergarten her kid is going into. This is definitely not the place to voice out her annoyance towards her kid's father, especially not in front of her even though it seems Ivy has her own little bubble and luckily, doesn't put too much attention to whatever her mother has to say whenever she comes to pick her up, trying to discreetly speak not so fondly about her ex-husband. However, you know better.

Her ex-husband is a very friendly and polite man, loving his daughter like no one else. It warms everyone's heart whenever he comes to pick her up, not because he's handsome or a perfect dilf as your co-workers named him (which to be honest you don't know how to feel about it). Maybe that's why she seems so envious of him because he has a perfect relationship with their daughter. Well, at least that could be one of the other reasons for sure.

However, as soon as those words leave Katana's mouth you feel yourself getting tense all over again as you stare at her with a neutral look. Sara frowns, seeing displeased by the new information and how Katana sounds so sure of herself.

“How do you know that? Has he told you anything?”

Would it be too awkward if you just stepped away from this conversation? Why out of all time, one of the kids can't do something that would require your whole attention and presence? Just like on purpose, there's a complete calm yet cheerful atmosphere in the classroom.

“No,” Katana snickers, “But a man like him has to have someone. I mean, take one look at him. He can't be single.”

You shake your head at her statement, even though partly you'd agree if you didn't know any better. Sara sighs, mumbling a few words of how unfortunate it is that every hot man is either married or dating someone. Not going to lie, you're not blind and it's hard to resist Taehyung's charms. That's what his name is. Kim Taehyung. It sounds nice even in your head. But not even once you were thirsting about him so publicly, especially not in a classroom full of kids even though they can't hear the conversation that's been clearly going on way before you made your way here.

Luckily, someone up there has listened to your silent pleas when two of the kids start to bicker, your clue to turn around and leave from the conversation as you assure Sara and Katana you got it. By the time you kindly explain to the kids bickering isn't nice and give them the pep-talk, Sara and Katana have separated and are playing with other kids.

Later in the day when a few of the kids have already gone home and got picked up by their parents, you're closing the classroom's door while bidding goodbye to one of the kids and their mom. You're opening your mouth, ready to talk to Sara (since Katana already went home because there's no need for the three of you to be here when most of the kids went already home) but before you can, the usual chirpy and soft voice calls out something you'd never expect you'd hear again.

“Fuck!”

You and Sara stare with wide eyes at each other before you glance at the four year old Ivy, her brows furrowed as one of the toys she was trying to reach fell down on the floor with a loud bang. She seems completely oblivious that whatever she said is bad, her small and neaty hands picking up the toy as she glares at the poor plastic pink car for dolls.

“I got it.” You mouth to Sara, seeing her finger pointing between her and you, her silent way of asking who's going to deal with it.

“Ivy, honey,” you call out to the little girl, her round eyes glancing at you as she sits on the wooden stool taking the car with her as she sets it onto the table where her dolls are sitting.

Should you tell her something? She seems oblivious to the curse word that so freely let out her small mouth. Reminding her and trying to explain to her that she shouldn't be talking like that would just put more attention to it. However, this is not the first time you've heard this word because the same thing happened yesterday. You've no idea where she heard it from, well the most likely option is that she heard it at home. But you also know her father is very serious about language around kids, especially around his own kid to be precise. You mean… stuff like that can happen to anyone. People often curse before they realize they did it, it happened to you a lot – not in front of kids or in your job though.

Did he and his ex-wife maybe get into an argument? Maybe one of them cursed and Ivy obviously heard it.

“What did you say just a moment ago?” you ask her, letting her think about it. Okay, if she doesn't remember you'll let it go and act as if it didn't happen. But if she--

“Fuck,” she shrugs innocently, your eyes widening once more as you look around to see if any of the kids heard her. Luckily, they haven't.

Sara stands nearby, not really hearing your conversation but she definitely heard the word “fuck” coming out of Ivy with no problem. She stares at you, somehow looking both worried and amused at the same time as you take a deep breath.

Oh, fuck. She's not even your kid and you feel your palms getting sweaty. You don't want to cross any lines or interfere with the way she is being raised, you know not many parents appreciate when one of the teachers gets involved. However, it's your job to explain to her certain things when it directly happens in the kindergarten and in front of other kids. The last thing you need is one of the kids to hear her and repeat it after her.

“Ivy, you can't say that word. It's naughty and nice kids don't talk like that,” you start, seeing her tilting her head slightly at you as she thinks about your words for a moment. “I thought you're a nice kid.” you tell her softly, purposely saying it knowing she's always determined to prove that she's nice whenever her dad comes to pick her up and mentions ice-cream. Or even if he asks one of you, the teachers, if she was nice. Ivy is usually the first one to respond which always makes everyone laugh.

She's a good kid. Polite one too. She treats other kids nicely and always shares her toys. So naturally, you're even more surprised to hear her saying such a word that definitely shouldn't belong to the dictionary of a four year old.

“I am!” she insists, frowning as she pouts slightly.

“Well, nice and good kids don't talk like that. It's very naughty.”

“Sorry.” she mumbles apologetically, looking down at her lap.

“I don't want to hear you saying that again, okay? You're a very cute and pretty lady.” you tell her, trying to lighten her sour mood as you tap her cute round nose.

She giggles, nodding as you chuckle at her. “Okay.” she tells you softly once she calms down.

Half an hour later, close to the closing time, Sara informs you Ivy's mother is coming to pick her up as she just parked her car. It doesn't faze you, it's pretty usual for her to come pick up her daughter at this hour. However, even though she's not very nice towards her ex-husband, having bitter remarks which are usually muttered underneath her breath but you – or Sara and Katana – always hear them. She's not trying to mask it that much, even though she thinks she's being sleek with the whole act “I hate my ex-husband”. But she's not a bad mom. She comes this late because she owns a boutique but whenever she sees her daughter, an almost identical copy of her father, she always has a warm smile on her lips. She's nice towards teachers (which obviously includes you as well) and you've never really had any trouble with her.

That can't be said about Ivy's father though.

You know your daily task is to fill up parents about their kids' day and how they behaved, but before Sara can make her way towards the door and open it, you catch her wrist and glance at her nervously.

“Don't say anything about what Ivy said today, please.”

Sara looks a little taken aback by your request, not hiding a mere confusion and probably wonders why are you even asking this of her. It's pretty usual you'd tell whichever of the parents would pick up the kid, the truth. The last time Ivy said clear and soundable “fuck”, you brushed it off after talking to the girls. But now that has happened a second time, you'd usually just have to say it to the parent.

“Are you sure? She should probably know about this.” Sara says, voice quiet and confused.

“Yeah, she should. But she'll just blame Ivy's father for it and the poor kid already listens to that every time she finds something against him. I think her dad will explain this stuff to her better, Ivy listens to him more. We can tell him next week when it's his turn to pick her up.”

Sara is not surprised to hear your reason, she can easily tell the difference of the two parents as well. She's very attentive and knows, even though Ivy loves both her parents, she's way more cheerful when her dad comes to pick her up and he's actually the one that is more strict. Ivy is just a kid and even though she has a good heart and is raised well, she has her own tantrums sometimes. You, Sara and Katana were witnesses to him putting her back in her place whenever she threw a tantrum in the dressing room with his deep and stern voice.

“Okay, I think you're right.” she nods, agreeing with you but before she can say something else, Ivy's mother opens the door and greets you before she calls out to Ivy.

The little girl runs to her and hugs her long legs before she lets go and goes back into the room, cleaning up the toys she played with just a few seconds ago and putting them back to their place. It makes your heart bloom with softness and warmness and when you look at her mother, you see the same look in her eyes as she waits for her daughter, taking her small hand into hers when she finally makes it back to her mother.

The apartment smells delicious when you enter the spacious entryway, a silent curse leaving your mouth as soon as you take off your shoes and step onto a wooden toy that makes your foot ache. Putting away your thin jacket onto the rack, you make your way through the house, following the little rumble sounds and amazing smell of food that makes your mouth water.

You smile as soon as you see him, standing with his back while stirring something on the pot. You make your way towards him, hugging him from the back as he slightly jumps from the sudden touch but smiles once he looks down and sees it's you.

“Hey, love.”

Heart warming at the pet name, you let out a soft “hi” before he turns around and kisses you on the lips, cupping your cheeks for a moment.

“Ivy?” he asks in assurance, causing you to chuckle as you lean against the kitchen counter, seeing him still wearing one of his work attires, a light blue button-up and black slacks.

He must've come home and straight went to prepare dinner for the two of you.

“Hyerim picked her up.” you answer, seeing him nod even though he already knows the answer to that. He's just in his dad's protective and caring mode, he needs assurement.

“Good, how was your day?”

So you chat, watching him cook as he refuses your help whenever you offer yourself. Once the food is ready, you move to the dining room with a few crayons still sitting on top of the table messily as he apologizes and quickly puts them away.

“Sorry, didn't have enough time to make this place clean.” he apologizes, but it only makes you chuckle because he's acting as if you're not spending your free time here every second week.

Throughout the dinner, you talk and eat in a peaceful silence – something you've grown used to as well. Sometimes you wonder how it'd feel like with Ivy's presence here, considering it feels like she is here but in reality she isn't. Her drawings are attached to the fridge and around the house, clearly making her dad a proud one. And her toys are almost everywhere, even though they're neatly placed in the living room.

It makes you miss her, knowing she is probably having a great time with her mom because apparently, she never complains and always talks fondly whenever she comes back home. It only makes you think of what happened today, wondering if by now the little girl didn't listen to you and already said “fuck” again, this time in front of her mother.

“Taehyung?” you ask softly, putting down your fork as you glance at your boyfriend who's just putting a bite into his mouth as he hums in response, eyes set upon you.

“Did you and Hyerim fight by any chance recently?” you ask him, seeing his brows furrowing, the same way like Ivy did today.

“No,” he answers, looking a little puzzled as he thinks it through for a second before answering more confidently. “No, I told you we haven't fought in months. I think she prefers talking behind my back and in front of Ivy's teachers.” he jokes a little, the corner of his lips curving to a slight smirk.

It makes you chuckle and look down at your plate, obviously knowing you're the reason why he knows all of this in the first place. As much as Sara and Katana daydream about him, they wouldn't go as far as telling him such an uncomfortable and private thing, even if it includes him as well. It's impolite.

Perks of him being your boyfriend, so you can tell him anything you want.

You nod along his words, reaching for the glass of wine as you take a decent sip before he keeps his eyes on you, a silent curiosity and interest crossing his face. “Is there a reason why you're asking? Has she said something about me again?”

“Ah, no. She was actually very polite this time...” you trail off, avoiding his eyes for a moment and you've no idea why.

Maybe it's the way he's staring at you with his dark eyes across the table, or the fact that he looks so hot and stern all of a sudden while he analyzes the way you're acting. Obviously, a few months of dating him, he already knows when there's something you're not telling him.

“Come on, love. Tell me, I'm not gonna bite. At least not now.” he smirks, laughing when you exclaim his name and start laughing too, momentarily hiding your face with your hands as you feel the heat rushing to your face.

“Alright,” you breathe out once you calm down, looking him in the eyes. “Ivy said 'fuck' today.”

Taehyung's brows shoot up in surprise, opening his mouth slightly. “She said what?”

“Fuck,” you tell him, even though you know he heard you the first time. “One of the toys fell when she was trying to grab it. I talked to her but obviously, I thought you should know. I didn't say anything to Hyerim, we both know why…” you tell him and he nods, understanding that Hyerim might've overreacted and just put more blame on him than it's necessarily.

“I don't understand… I don't curse in front of her, neither does Hyerim. We're both very careful about that.”

“You never know, it might've slipped. It doesn't really matter who's to blame for this, but she can't speak like that. Thank god none of the kids heard her. This is actually the second time she said it, the first time she said it was a few days ago.”

“What? Why didn't you tell me?” he asks, surprised, not sounding accusingly at all.

“I wanted to tell you in private and since you had Ivy last week, there was no time. I wasn't about to discuss it in a dressing room where other parents were.” you explain.

Taehyung nods understandably, giving you a slight smile in appreciation before he looks a little disappointed by the news as he sighs. “I'll talk to her when she comes back from Hyerim. Where could she possibly hear it from? I don't understand…”

You shrug, not sure what to answer as he thinks about it for a moment, deciding that he has no answer for that and just lets it go for tonight. Shaking his head, he continues eating while you do the same, a casual talk filling the dining room once again while throwing knowing and flirtatious glances at each other.

You often think about what you did in your past life to deserve such a man in your life, to have that privilege of snatching not just one of the hottest men in the world but also the kindest and most attentive boyfriend. It was one year ago when you started working at the kindergarten where you're working till this day. You had been working there barely for a week when a new three year old started attending kindergarten for the first time. You can still remember the way Ivy's big eyes were full of curiosity and fear at the same time, her both hands clutching her father's big one. He stayed for a few minutes, lingering close to the wall as he watched his daughter playing with toys and drawing him a picture. Despite his fond eyes that were filled with nothing but love, you could see him looking worried just as equal as Ivy when the door of the classroom full of other kids opened.

The only difference is, that he waited until his daughter wasn't watching him and was too occupied while drawing him a picture of butterflies, house and other random things that the three year old could think of.

And despite you working there barely a week, you already encountered similar situations with other parents as well. You're not going to lie, he did look slightly intimidating from the moment you first saw him. It's not like he was expressionless or coldly looked around himself, he was quite the opposite. One of the kids brought him a toy and he crouched down to the kid, ruffled his black hair and thanked him with a cute boxy smile which later on, you found Ivy has a very similar smile.

So you approached him, listened to him as he explained that he's probably overreacting but ever since she was born, he was with her most of the time and now is the time for her to come here, so he can work and she can finally attend kindergarten like every other kid. Ever since then, you both chatted a lot whenever he came to pick her up. Nothing too serious and you never crossed any boundaries, especially when he informed you Ivy's mother will pick her up every second week. Later on, when he came to pick up Ivy one day, you assumed they're married but busy to come together to pick her up. You assumed they just came to an arrangement to take turns.

You were surprised – okay, maybe even pleased – to hear that they've been divorced and separated for a year already. You kept your reaction low, just nodding in understatement. You remember the way he subtly smirked at you when you shyly looked away.

Somehow over the months, you both became close – friends maybe. He'd always talk to you about his day while waiting for Ivy to tie her shoes because “she's a big girl and she can do it alone”. Ivy's words, not her father's. He went along with it, taking that time to lean against the kids lockers while chatting to you whenever you had the time.

Until one day he finally grew some balls – Taehyung's words again – and finally asked you out. And the rest is a history, bringing you back to present time as you've been dating for five months now.

Taehyung's broad shoulders and the way he's eye-fucking you is definitely worth of not thinking about history, but get ready for present. He cockily smirks at you, standing above you while you're sprawled on his bed completely naked while he takes the last article of his clothes which happens to be boxers.

Oh, you're definitely lucky.

If only Sara and Katana could see you right now, they'd never believe you've been dating this man the whole time they kept talking about him, or more like thirsting over him. He's more than that though.

There are many things you appreciate about Taehyung, being mature is one of them. Him being older than you, seven years difference to be exact, makes him more mature than any of the boys you were dating previously. There weren't that many but even if there were, you know no one could compete with Taehyung.

Even your friendly and blunt co-workers can't keep their eyes off him whenever it's his turn of the custody. Even when it's not, they talk about him on a daily basis. And apparently giving him a nickname that has been sticking to him for a few months now.

Taehyung is in the middle of rolling a condom down his length when you giggle amusingly as your eyes scrunch. He chuckles, even though he glances at you in confusion wondering why the hell you're giggling all of a sudden.

“What?” he asks, breathing out a chuckle as he glances down at his length and gives himself a few testing tugs. As much as he wants three more kids (apparently – it's something he spilled when you had a date night at his house while drinking lots of wine), you still have a long way to go until you go that route.

“You know that Sara and Katana call you dilf?” you giggle, covering your mouth with your palm while Taehyung's eyebrows shoot up in shock.

For the first time since he has slowly led you to his bedroom and pleasured you with his mouth until you were begging for him to stop and let you breathe for a second, he looks quite shocked and taken aback. It's only now that you see the back of his neck flash as he sheepishly rubs it with his hand.

He's no stranger to the names of your co-workers, he hears about them all the time. However, it's the first time you revealed the nickname they gave him, even though he knows they're thirsting over him. Something you spilled that time on your date night.

But Taehyung is not caught off guard for too long, hovering over you for a second as he pulls you closer to the edge of bed, hands on your ass as he lifts it up. His length pokes you right into your clit causing you to stop giggling as you moan.

“Dilf, is it?” he hums, causing you to nod while silent pleas of him filling you up resounds from your mouth. In times like these, you can barely function and control yourself at the same time.

Taehyung listens to you, guiding his thick length into your wet and tight hole as he enters you with a slow yet shallow thrust. You groan, mouth opening and eyes shutting, falling apart from the single feeling of him stretching you out. You missed him. It's been something over a week since you got to have some alone time with him, which includes a lot of sex of course.

“Do they know this dilf gets to fuck you?” he hums against your neck, causing you to realize he's hovering over you once again as he gently bites into the crook of your neck, slowly thrusting in and out.

“Ah, fuck,” you moan out once he pulls back, grabbing you by your thighs as he hoasts your lower body up to his liking. It's just a matter of seconds before he starts fucking you just like he promised a few minutes ago when you entered his bedroom.

His thick length brushes your wet and tight walls, hitting all the right places as you can't keep your moans silent. Taehyung's eyes are focused on your breasts that bounce with each thrust he makes, eyes glancing down at your stomach to see it bulging thanks to his length inside you.

“Shit, love. You're killing me.” he groans, the sight being one of his weaknesses as it ushers him to pound into you even more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Tae…” you whimper, feeling yourself getting close as his nails dig into the meat of your thighs. But the pain is nothing but pleasing and arousing you even more.

Soon enough, you're falling apart and cumming around his thick length that makes him groan, making it harder for him to move inside you. But somehow he does, pounding into you and following you a minute later while he spills into the condom.

Both breathing heavy, you're not surprised when Taehyung falls down on you as you hug him closer while he peppers your neck and chest with kisses. He slowly slips out of you, groaning at the feeling as he forces himself to stand up and dispose of the condom. He tells you he'll be right back, bringing one of his shirts that he without a doubt found in the bathroom. He cleans you up, tossing it down the floor you scoot further to the bed, finally laying down onto his soft pillows. He cuddles to you, tossing a duvet over your naked and warm buddies as he nuzzles to your neck.

“I want to tell Ivy,” he suddenly mumbles, his hands slowly rubbing your stomach under the duvet. “About us, about you.”

That makes you surprised, your heart skipping a beat and causing you to feel excited.

Ivy doesn't know that you're dating her father. It's something you respected from the moment you felt things between you and Taehyung aren't just about the casual talks between a parent and a teacher. From Taehyung's positions, it definitely makes sense that he didn't want to break it to his daughter that he's dating one of her teachers. You both wanted to make sure you're very serious about each other before he breaks the news to her. It makes sense. You're her teacher and even though it won't affect your work or can get you into trouble, you didn't want to be introduced to her as her dad's girlfriend just yet. No one knows about your relationship, that's one of the reasons.

Ivy is a sweet kid but she's still a kid and she would obviously spill the news. You both can't expect the four year old will keep your relationship a secret before you decide to just announce it to the world. You don't know how Hyerim, Taehyung's ex, will react to the news. Even though you don't care that much about her because she has nothing to do with Taehyung, not anymore – she's still Ivy's mother and probably won't have a pleasant reaction.

There are a lot of things you and Taehyung had to think through before you came to the conclusion that this is nice and you want to be in each other's life like this. Your parents know about Taehyung, and so does his parents know about you. But telling Ivy means that you'll be openly dating and it no longer will be a secret, in other words it’s a bigger step than telling your or Taehyung’s parents. This means Sara and Katana will find out eventually too, however you're not worried about that.

They might feel embarrassed that they've been thirsting about your boyfriend this whole time, but it'll be finally your time to laugh at them and see them frustrated.

Taehyung isn't scared of Ivy's reaction, the reason he didn't tell her about the two of you isn't about that. She loves you. Apparently, she talks about you at home too and according to Taehyung, you're her favorite teacher. Teachers shouldn't have a favorite kid but they always do. Your favorite kid is Ivy. Not because you're dating her dad, she's been your favorite from the moment Taehyung went to work and left her there for the first time alone. She came up to you and clutched to your hand, talking to you sweetly as she drew you a picture. The first one she drew in a class was already took by Taehyung as she made sure she gave it to him before he had to depart.

“Are you sure?” you ask, not hiding the smile in your voice that makes Taehyung smile as he kisses your collarbone.

“I've been sure for quite some time,” he tells you softly, “I don't want to hide anymore. She loves you, I love you and I want to spend my time with both of you. I want you to be here when she's home too, I want my both girls here.”

Your heart softens, heart blooming with love and warmness as your fingers play with Taehyung's dark wavy hair.

“I'd be more than happy about that,” you confess, “I feel like it's the right time too.”

Taehyung agrees, lifting his head off your body as he looks at you and purses his lips, silently asking for a kiss. You chuckle, finding him cute and different than from the man that pounded you into his mattress just a moment ago. You kiss him, letting your mouths mold together for a few minutes until you're forced to pull apart to properly breathe.

“I know where Ivy heard the bad word.”

The bad word. That makes you chuckle as you turn to him with an interest in your eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, smirking a little. “From you.”

You open your mouth. “Excuse me? I don't curse in front of her.”

“Uhm, it might not have been completely in front of her, but you know when you curse the most.”

“No, tell me.” you tell him, narrowing your eyes at him.

“When we have sex.” he smirks, causing your mouth to open.

“But--Ivy--”

“You remember the last time when we had sex? I called you over after we both couldn't sleep, Ivy was in her room sleeping back then,” Taehyung starts, causing your heart to stop for a moment as a horrific expression makes a way to your face.

Like Taehyung said, it was one of the nights when you texted and couldn't sleep, the texts becoming slightly explicit and needy which caused Taehyung to call you over. It was the first and only time you sneaked to his house while Ivy was in it too, supposedly soundlessly sleeping in her room while her father fucked you in his own. He assured you she's sleeping and you had to sneak away the next morning before she woke up, like a damn teenager.

You both acted like teenagers that night to be fair. The whole sneaking thing had its own spice though.

“Apparently, the little lovebug was awake or we must've woke her up.” Taehyung says, laughing as he seems amused by the whole situation.

“But--how do you know? Maybe she heard it somewhere else, this doesn't mean anything.” you tell him, not believing your own words too.

Taehyung raises his brow at you, “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he starts mimics you from that night when he took you from behind, your face heating up right away as you slap him in the chest. “You know how I know that?” he asks, voice amused and cocky which makes you roll your eyes.

“Spill it out.” you tell him, ready to hide behind the duvet but he gently takes it away from you and keeps his hold onto it.

“She asked me the next morning who was at our house. Apparently, she heard some noises.”

Okay, now you certainly look mortified. Taehyung laughs, enjoying the way you squeal in embarrassment.

“And you're telling me that just now?” you exclaim, repeating his words from earlier as he laughs with eyes scrunched shut.

“Well, telling you over a text or in a kindergarten with a bunch of parents and kids around wasn't the best option. I forgot to tell you, to be honest.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, rubbing your forehead in embarrassment. “What did you tell her?”

“That she must've had a bad dream.” Taehyung chuckles causing you to laugh.

“And she believed that?”

“Does it matter?”

No, it doesn't.

Taehyung suddenly cuddles you again, leg slouched over your own as his mouth is on your collarbone against, slowly making his way down to your breast as he starts sucking your nipple. You gasp, looking down at him as he keeps his attention to your nipple before he looks up with a smirk.

“Look at you, teaching my kid a bad word and you haven't even been introduced as my girlfriend.”

“It wasn't on purpose.” you gasp, whimpering when he gently bites onto your breast, chuckling lowly.

“I know,” he adds, assuring you that he's not mad or putting a blame on you. It was your both's fault. If you just waited and weren't horny like teenagers, this wouldn't have happened.

He lets go of your nipple with a loud plop, staring you in the eyes while his hands move down your stomach. You already know where this is heading, soon feeling him between your legs. But before he fully touches you where you're aching for him the most, he licks his lips and bites into them before a loving gaze makes its way to his eyes.

“Good thing I love you.”

[heliads]

Firestarter

Y/N L/N is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with the ability to control fire. She keeps her powers hidden to protect herself, although she doesn’t count on accidentally revealing them to Steve Rogers when she saves his life.

masterlist

You open your hand. Slowly, carefully. The flames spring up almost involuntarily, a gut instinct that you can’t seem to turn off. You stare for a while, and when you look away you can still see the inverses dancing across the walls. Hot tongues of fire that lick across your palm, soaring higher and higher with the slightest impulse.

You suppose you would appreciate your powers if it weren’t for your line of work. You became a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent before you realized their true attitudes towards people with abilities, and you’d discovered soon after that if you wanted to survive and stay out of the labs, you would need to keep your little fire habit a secret. No matter what all-inclusive, power-friendly aura S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted to give off, they would always distrust and disregard people with abilities.

Even the best of you, the Maximoff twins, were greeted with raised eyebrows and knives up sleeves instead of open arms. Maybe that was because they were given their powers by HYDRA, but you knew better. It wasn’t the specific organization that bothered S.H.I.E.L.D., it was the fact that they had no way of controlling that much power. The only way S.H.I.E.L.D. dealt with superhuman abilities was by either taking them in or taking them out. If they were to find out that you, a high ranking agent with plenty of clearance codes, had powers, they’d kill you. They can’t take risks like that, not with someone like you.

That’s why you never let anyone see the flames darting from your hands and lighting up your eyes. That’s why you wait until you’re alone, in a room with no security cameras, to call up the first few sparks. It hurts to go without using your powers for that long, but the alternative is so much worse. As a senior S.H.I.E.L.D. operative, you’ve had the gruesome pleasure of seeing the labs firsthand. S.H.I.E.L.D. claims that the labs are harmless, only taking in willing participants so that their scientists can learn more about the complex world of those with power and those without. You’ve heard the screams to know that all of this is a lie, that nobody goes to those labs willingly. So, you play the part of the powerless, pretending that you’re a perfectly ordinary person, even if nothing could be further from the truth.

There’s a knock at your door and you snap your hand shut like a compact. When you slowly open your fingers once more, the tendrils of flame are gone. You wave your hand to disperse the last few curling fingers of smoke from the room, then call out to your visitor. “Come in.” A few moments later, a tall, familiarly strapping man enters the room. You smile at him. “Steve Rogers, what a surprise. To what do I owe this visit?”

Steve holds out a hand to you and you take it, standing up from your chair. “Have you forgotten already? We’ve got that debriefing from Cox in a couple of minutes.” You groan. “That’s why you came over? I thought it was something good.” Steve chuckles. “No. I refuse to go alone.” He’s already opening the door, tugging you out into the hallway despite your protests. “I was going anyway, there’s no need to drag me over.” The two of you walk side by side down the corridor, slowly making your way towards the debriefing room. Steve glances over at you, a joking smile on his face. “I know you were, I was just checking in to make sure you weren’t ditching me.”

You pull a face. “You’re a terrible friend.” Steve says nothing, just holds open the door to the debriefing room with a grin. He follows you inside, although the two of you walk to different sides of the room once the door closes behind you. Steve is an Avenger, he’ll sit with Sam, Natasha, and the rest. Despite your years of experience fighting alongside the Avengers, you’re still a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and so you slide into a chair next to your coworkers.

A couple of minutes later, a man walks into the room and takes a stance at the front of the room. His hair is slightly too greasy, eyes slightly too cold. You and Steve share a mutual hatred of this man, Edward Cox, and you’re not looking forward to hearing him boss you around for the next hour or so. You suppose that he is technically a good S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and it’s impossible to rise to his level without shedding all of your morals, but that doesn’t make listening to him speak any easier.

This is especially true today. The mission itself should be fascinating- some twisted soul named Isaiah Crane has taken control of some massive warehouse complex, and he’s filling it with an army of soldiers and weapons. It’s your typical Avengers threat, made more interesting by the fact that Crane is an utter madman. His every move is calculated yet wild, and it’s practically impossible to guess what he’ll do next. His forces have already begun expanding out, displacing and injuring hundreds of civilians, and so the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. have been called in.

Cox, however, makes it sound like the dullest training excursion on the planet. “Remember, you’ll get in and get out. Try not to fight amongst yourselves, we’ll have to order you out. We don’t want another Sokovia Accords, do we, folks? Anyways, just take out Crane and his men. Don’t bother with the civilians, they’ll only get in the way.” Across the room, you see Steve straighten up. “What do you mean, don’t bother with the civilians? According to these reports, they’re being rounded up and killed or forced out of their homes. We should be helping them, it’s our job.”

Cox frowns over at Steve, evidently displeased over the interruption. “No, Rogers, you’re here to take down Crane. There’s a difference. Save the petty rescues for the fire department.” You wince slightly at that. It’s like Cox is actively trying to set Steve off. “You’re talking about hundreds of people who are in danger, who we could save in a fraction of the time it would take the local reinforcements. Why shouldn’t we be helping them?” Cox fiddles with the papers in front of him. “Because those are your orders, Rogers. You don’t need the people, just the man. Crane.”

You can see that Steve is seconds away from exploding on the guy, so you raise a hand. Cox turns to you, evidently assuming that you’ll be defending him. You’ve seen how Cox works, he tends to appreciate some sticking to the rules. You can use this against him; if you don’t, he’ll never let you speak in the first place. “Actually, I think Steve is right. I wouldn’t be surprised if Crane tries to use the chaos of the fleeing civilians to protect himself. By getting all of them out of harm’s way, we clear the path to him.”

Cox’s smile fades. “I would have expected a senior officer to understand the basic truths. We can’t save everybody, that’s a dream for the children.” You ignore the jibe. “You cited the Sokovia Accords as an example of things we should be avoiding. The only reason we were able to survive to make those accords in the first place was because of the success of Sokovia itself. The Sokovia incident would have been considered a disaster were it not for the fact that the Avengers were able to save all of the civilians. Yes, they had to battle Ultron, but their main victory was the countless lives saved.”

Cox opens his mouth as if to contradict you, but now Steve sees what you’re saying. “Exactly. Crane is our Ultron right now, but we have to save the people. End of story.” Cox glares at you both, but the rest of the room is nodding in agreement, so he’s forced to drop the matter. For the rest of the debriefing, though, his words come out as spiked weapons that he shoots at you and Steve, vindictive in his rage at being publicly humiliated.

Steve, on the other hand, does not consider this a victory. You can tell that he’s still furious at Cox for so casually throwing away the lives of the civilians, and he strides briskly away from the room the second the debriefing is over. You collect your things and follow him into an empty room. Steve looks up when you close the door behind him, evidently unsurprised to see you. Anger seems to course from his every vein. You forget how he gets sometimes, when he’s let down time and time again by the fools of S.H.I.E.L.D. who think they can toss aside hundreds of lives for a cleaner mission.

Steve’s voice is laced with vitriol. “I can’t believe him. I honestly can’t believe him. How could he go up there and tell us all to let those innocents die? I don’t think he even saw a problem with it.” He begins to pace back and forth, energy seemingly bounding from his every motion. “This entire organization is paved with blood, and they’re the ones holding all the strings. How do you live with yourself, knowing this is happening every day?” The second the words leave his mouth, Steve looks up, regret already beginning to color his eyes. “I didn’t mean that.”

You hold up a hand to stem his apologies. “Yes, you did, and it’s fine. S.H.I.E.L.D. has never had time for the lives it plays with, and you’re right to say it. To be honest, I’m not sure that there is a way to live with the knowledge. You just have to push it aside, because there’s no better way to do what has to be done.” You glance over at him, smiling slightly. “The problem is that you’re Captain America, and everyone expects you to always make the perfect choice no matter what. Perfect choices where everyone ends up alive and well don’t exist, yet if you don’t make that decision, you’re hunted for it. We don’t get happy endings in this line of work, we just have to make do with what we have. Maybe we have to accept the worse choices right now, but we can take steps to make them better.”

Steve nods, and you can tell that he’s beginning to calm down. “That’s the worst part of it. There are so many expectations, and it’s impossible to live up to all of them.” You incline your head in acknowledgement. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a pretty good job of it.” You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek before slipping from the room. Even as you walk away, you can still feel your lips burning. For a spy who’s not supposed to get hung up over her emotions, you’re doing a pretty bad job of it.

It’s difficult to describe the relationship you have with Steve Rogers. You’ve been enemies, you’ve been friends. You’ve had each other’s backs. There have been nights when alcohol burns like kerosene down your throat, when you spend the night between his sheets and wake up again the next morning to steal away before he wakes. The best way to describe what you have with Steve is that it’s whatever the two of you need at the moment. Maybe it’s a friend, maybe it’s more. By uttering a word about it, you’re afraid you’ll shatter those quiet moments and cut the fragile string tying you to him for good.

By the next morning, you’ve forced thoughts of him from your head once more. You’re heading down the landing of the quinjet, gun held at the ready. The steady rattle of gunfire echoes around you, and just like that, the fight to reach Isaiah Crane has begun. You and the rest of the Avengers rush to the civilians, getting them to safety before the inevitable call crackles through your earpiece, announcing that Crane is in the building. This is your one shot at him, you have to make it count.

The group of fighters enters the building, one person for each entrance. You make your way through the twisting halls of the complex, but you never catch sight of him. You come out of a narrow passageway to find yourself suddenly swallowed up by a main room. Across the space, you can see the rest of the Avengers emerging from doors. It looks like you’ve all been led here, trapped in this one space by the elusive Crane. Just as you realize this, the bombs go off and you’re thrown to the ground.

There must have been explosives lining the floor. Dust hangs thick and heavy in the air, and the bombs keep on going off, one after another. A chain reaction, which ends with the ceiling beginning to shake and tumble down. Your eyes are drawn to the thick concrete of the building’s structure, which is just now falling down on top of you. Your legs itch to run, to do something, but there’s nowhere to go. The only thing you can do is hope for the best, which is that this column falling on you won’t entirely shatter you.

Just as you’re preparing yourself for the impact, a figure darts over to you, pulling you to them protectively. You realize it’s Steve, and he flings his shield over your huddled bodies just before the roof caves in. There’s an overwhelming blow, but after a few tense minutes, you realize you’re still alive and relatively unharmed. Slowly, carefully, Steve stands up, and you do too. You stare in shock at the room around you. Columns of concrete have come tumbling down, and the room is in shambles. Rubble and large chunks of the roof have caved in around you, and it’s impossible to see anything farther than a few feet ahead of you.

You reach to your earpiece, turning it on. “This is Agent L/N. Can anyone read me? Over.” You wait a couple of seconds, then repeat your message. There is no response, just the crackling of static. Steve shakes his head. “I’m not getting anything either. I think we’re on our own.” You bite your cheek, thinking. “This was Crane’s plan. He wanted to get us alone.” Steve nods. “I don’t think we have much of a choice about it, though. There’s a way out under the rubble, and I think it goes deeper into the complex. It looks like it’s our only option.”

The two of you duck underneath the piles of debris, skirting around the edges of the room to find the chink in the armor that Steve was talking about. It seems to lead to a broader expanse of hallway, one that wasn’t connected to any doors leading outside. You look down the dimly lit hall, uneasy. “I have a bad feeling about this. This has got to be a trap.” Steve sighs. “I don’t think there’s any way it isn’t a trap. Crane must have set it up- whoever survives the explosives makes it over to him. I hate to say it, but it’s the only thing we can do. At least we can finish this.”

You nod, and the two of you begin walking down the hallway. You keep your eyes open and alert for any threats, any new explosives or ambushes, but there’s nothing there. At last, the hallway opens up into a seemingly empty room. You and Steve look at each other, and you see your same apprehension reflected on his face. Steve holds out an arm to stop you from walking any further. He speaks quietly, mouth an inch or two away from your ear. “Stay back here. I’ll go in alone, you’ll watch my back. If Crane thinks he’s going to be holding all the cards, I want at least one ace up my sleeve.”

You nod slowly. “Be careful.” Steve smirks. “Always am.” With that, he slings his shield off of his shoulder, holding it out in front of him like the knights of old. You watch as he disappears around the corner, footsteps echoing off of the high ceiling. There’s a noise from across the room, barely noticeable. Steve, of course, is used to doing the impossible and his head turns towards the sound. He strides further into the room, investigating the sudden sound. He is slowly swallowed up by the shadows of the room, and you squint as your eyes adjust to the darkness.

At first, you think you’re just making things up. Then, the slight movement comes again, strengthening as it passes close by the lights of the hall. You take a slow, silent step forward and your eyes widen as you see the figure drawing close to Steve. The silhouette has its back to you, and you creep out of the hall and into the room, curious. With a chill, you realize that this is Crane, and he’s about to attack Steve, who has no idea that the enemy he’s been tracking is right behind him. Steve is still walking through the room, completely unaware of the man about to kill him. Crane raises his arm, a gun in his hand. You can see a demented grin on Crane’s face as he aims at Steve’s skull. His finger pauses on the trigger.

You don’t think, not at all. Before you know it, your arm is raised, a swarm of fire billowing out of your hand and engulfing Crane whole. It knocks him over, a shriek of pain issuing from his mouth as the gun misfires. Steve whirls around and sees Crane at last, but it doesn’t matter. The man is out cold, burns blossoming in a sickening shine all over his body. He won’t wake up for a while, and when he does, he’ll be in so much pain that he’ll barely be able to stand, let alone try to kill Steve once more.

This means that Steve’s eyes are moving up, from Crane to you. You watch as the understanding dawns in his eyes, as he looks between the flames still dying out on the ground around Crane to your outstretched hand. Once again, your mind goes silent and you don’t think, just act. You’ve felt fear before, the terrifying, bone-chilling fear that you are about to die. You’ve known the terror of facing down impossible odds in a mission that was doomed from the start. All of those are manageable, but this right here? This suffocating knowledge that you’re about to experience the worst agony of your life, that Steve is going to tell S.H.I.E.L.D. about your powers and you’re going to be sent to those accursed labs, this is the most petrifying fear you have ever known.

You turn and run, heels flashing down the hall. You don’t know why you’re sprinting down the corridor, why this will make a difference. All you know is that you have to get away, you have to leave before the truth comes to light. Yet you forget that Steve is a super soldier, someone who can outpace anyone in a heartbeat. Within seconds, he’s catching up to you, and then his arm is reaching out and grabbing yours, stopping you in your tracks. He pulls you over to the side of the hall, your back up against the wall. He stares at you, and you stare at him.

Steve is the first to speak. “Why didn’t you tell me you had powers? Why did you run?” The words bubble out of you, a torrent of terror. “They’re going to kill me. S.H.I.E.L.D. They’re going to bring me to those labs and take me apart over and over again. Just kill me now, it’ll be faster.” Steve shakes his head. “I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to let them do that.” A laugh, bitter and jaded and cold, flies from your throat. “You don’t have a choice. None of us do.” 

Steve’s face is set, eyes determined. “There are no functioning security cameras in this building, not after that explosion. We’re going to say that Crane got caught by his own bombs, and that’s why he was burned. We’re not going to say anything about you, because you were with me and no one else knows.” You stare at Steve mutely as he continues speaking. “There’s no way S.H.I.E.L.D. could know unless we tell them, and we’re not. You’ll be safe, and no one is going to hurt you.” You feel like the ground has been ripped away from underneath you. “Why would you do that? If they find out, they could take everything away from you. There’s no good reason to risk your job, your life, for what, someone you kiss a couple times a month? They’ll come after you.”

Steve’s arms are still wrapped around your waist, and you’re finding it difficult to think straight. “I left the Avengers and broke them apart because I wanted to protect my best friend. If S.H.I.E.L.D. tried to hurt you, someone I care about more than anyone? I would burn them all to the ground.” He flashes a sudden smile. “Although I’d appreciate it if you were there with me. You make a pretty good firestarter.” You laugh quietly in spite of yourself. “I’ll be there. Even without this whole mess. I don’t think I could leave you if I tried.” 

Steve nods, his eyes filling with a sudden warmth. “I’ve been wanting to hear you say that for a long time.” He leans forward and kisses you. It’s strange- you’ve kissed Steve many times, and probably a few other than those that you’ve forgotten. Yet you don’t think he’s ever kissed you like this, with the smile and the trust that you two will stay together, no matter what. He is kissing you like he loves you, and you feel the exact same way.

[nctsjiho]

The Curse

warnings: none

❀ Every once in a while a curse is put on one of the male NCT members. This time sceptical Lucas gets to feel what the curse is like

Most of the male members of NCT see JiHo as a little sister or a very close friend. Definitely those who’ve known her ever since she joined the company at the age of 13, about to turn 14. The way she acts, the way she holds herself, the way she speaks, she’s just part of the boys. But every once in a while a certain something happens.

Even though no one had given it an official name, the occurrence has been deemed some kind of curse. Not that it was harmful in any way, but it just messed with your head and heart in a particular way for a little while. Some of the boys had experienced it before and though most of them never once mentioned it, in one way or the other, the other members would find out.

Lucas had only heard about this “curse” before from Ten. He had told WayV about it about a year earlier, yet all the boys were rather sceptical. Ten had a way with exaggerating things and Kun had assured the boys to not take Ten’s words so seriously.

Right at this moment though, Lucas wished he had taken Ten’s words a bit more seriously.

The tall boy was sitting in the car with Kun, Jungwoo, Mark and JiHo. The latter sitting in the back seat of the van with him. Jungwoo and Mark sleeping on the second row and Kun seated next to their manager in the front. One of their schedules had carried on until late at night and they finally were heading home.

He tried so hard not to look, not once he realised what was going on, but his eyes had a mind of their own as they stayed trained on JiHo’s sleeping figure. He scolded himself realising that if anyone would see him staring they would call him a creep, but he really couldn’t help it. Inside the car it was completely dark besides the lights on the dashboard and Kun’s phone screen. However for some reason the street lights always seem to illuminate JiHo’s face in the most prefect way possible.

This damn curse was real. The stories of how every once in a while “a member becomes completely whipped for JiHo” - in Ten’s words - they were all real. And not whipped in the way everyone was already whipped for JiHo. No, whipped as in “having romantic feelings towards JiHo”.

Lucas never noticed how cute the faint freckles on JiHo’s cheeks and nose were or how small her hands looked, definitely now they were cutely balled up against her chest while she slept.

If he recalled correctly, Ten said that “It usually lasts only for a few days, maybe a few weeks top, but during that time the member sees JiHo as a woman and everything she does makes their heart flutter.” Well he giggled it really, which is why Lucas didn’t take it too seriously in the first place. But now that JiHo’s sleeping figure was making him feel butterflies in his stomach he was panicking. She wasn’t even doing anything!

When the manager turned on the highway, the way the light hit inside the car changed. The light was now shining directly onto JiHo’s closed eyes and Lucas noticed how she started frowning. The sight made him feel uneasy as he wished she continued sleeping - because he didn’t know how to act if she was going to be awake.

Thinking quick, Lucas reached out his hand to block the light from shining further onto the girl’s closed eye lids, but alas, JiHo had already started stirring in her sleep. Soft incoherent mumbles left her lips which had Lucas’ heart beat speed up. Not knowing what to do he decided to just turn in his seat and face the front.

A yawn came from his left side where JiHo sat, but only silence followed. He sighed in relieve after a minute of JiHo not saying anything, he was sure she went back to sleep. He was about to turn to check if he was right when, “Lucas?”

The tall boy gulped before whispering a “yes?” JiHo sat up in her seat and sent him a smile. “Just checking if you weren’t asleep.”

Oh how that smile made it feel like his heart was doing summersaults. He didn’t know why he was feeling the way he felt. He had know JiHo for 5 years. Even if they only started getting close in 2017-2018, they still had known each other for a while. Yes he had thought that she was really pretty before, he even has admitted it multiple times publicly, but right now she didn’t just look pretty. She looked stunning. Even with her makeup wiped off and her eyes drooping from exhaustion. JiHo looked so beautiful in that moment.

In the corner of Lucas’ eyes he had noticed the girl shivering slightly, in any normal situation he would’ve just poked fun at her and then maybe hand her his jacket. This however was not a normal situation. The thought of handing over his jacket and her using it as a blanket, snuggling into the warmth of the fabric- He couldn’t help but blush at the image in his head.

“You okay? You’re turning red.” JiHo whispered from his side, trying not to wake up the members in front of her. Lucas waved her off, hoping she’d drop the subject, but unfortunately she didn’t.

“You haven’t slept yet right? Can you not fall asleep? We had a long day already and we’ll have many long days ahead, you should try to sleep a little.” Her tone was a bit worried, which made him blush even more.

She had always been this caring, but for some reason today was different. His mind went back to when he had barged in her room about a year ago or so and ended up getting comforted by her after a long week and then falling asleep in the same bed. Just a few months ago that would’ve done nothing to his heart, but falling asleep on the same bed now- NO! He shouldn’t be thinking about those kind of things right now.

“Lucas you’re completely red, are you sure you’re okay? You’re not getting sick are you?” Lucas assured her again and then turned to face to window on his right side. He tried to focus on anything, anything to get his mind off of JiHo.

JiHo frowned at his behaviour. He hadn’t really answered any of her questions and it looked like he really didn’t want to talk to her. She sighed before speaking up about it. “I don’t know if I did anything to make you mad at me, but if that’s the case, please talk to me whenever you feel ready.”

The comment made Lucas’ heart drop. He didn’t want to make it seem like he was mad at JiHo, he just couldn’t get himself to talk to her in case he would mess up and say something stupid.

He contemplated what to do next, but decided to not say anything. He’d have to speak to JiHo someday, probably in the near future, but for now he was struggling to keep his composure around her so he decided against it.

The fact that JiHo was still shivering next to him and he wasn’t going to do anything about it because that meant talking to her, made him feel like the worst human being in the world. But as long as he was going to be crushing on her like this, he wasn’t sure if he could act normally around her. Lucas was a victim of the damn curse and he really hoped it was only going to last for a few days, because he couldn’t live with himself being a douche to her one more time.

The manager arrived at the WayV dorm first so it was time for Lucas to get out. He wanted to get out of the car as soon as possible and as he was making his way out of their JiHo held his arm. “Get some sleep okay.” She tried to smile, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Lucas nodded quickly and just as quickly jumped out of the car.

He and Kun watched as the car drove down their street, JiHo was still clouding Lucas’ mind. Kun chuckled. “Seems like someone has the infamous JiHo curse?” Lucas’ jaw dropped, he really hoped no one was going to notice. “So I’m right?” Lucas nodded slowly, there was no point in hiding it. “Don’t worry, it’ll go away soon.” Kun patted the younger’s back in the hopes to reassure him. “I really hope so.”

[myonepiece]

hi i was wondering if you could do some headcannons asl + law (separately) with a male s/o whos maybe more about open their relationship and basically a non shy!male. sfw & nsfw would be appreciated but its up to you !! enjoy your day/night and just know i love ur account :)

Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Law with an extroverted S/O (open about their relationship) 

SFW + NSFW

Ace x non shy!male,   Sabo x non shy!male,   Luffy x non shy!male,

Law x non shy!male

Description: HCs of Ace, Sabo, Luffy, & Law (seperate) with an extroverted male s/o who is open about theur relationship

Warnings: partially NSFW 

A/N: I need more male reader content I think I literally only have 2 posts 😅 I’m not 100% confident in my writing for male readers, I’m still learning and I apologize if there’s anything wrong with this & pls tell me if there is 💕 

Ace NSFW, Luffy, Sabo, Law under the cut

SFW

Ace really wants someone who is open about their relationship with him, who’s proud to be dating him and shows him off. Ace wants to be able to show him off to everyone without making him uncomfortable, he loves that not only can he hug him and kiss him and smother him in affection publicly, but that he’ll initiate it himself aswell

he likes picking him up and throwing him over his shoulder in front of the crew, hearing their saracastic remarks to quit it, of course none of them would really have a problem with it in the first place, they loved seeing their brother so happy and in love- because it’s obvious Ace is in love. one of his favorite things to do is to find his boyfriend on deck and run over to scoop him into his arms and plop him on his lap for sleepy time

the fact that he gets to hold his hand without worrying about his embarrassment or discomfort, mostly because his boyfriend is the one who grabs his hand first, makes him all giddy and bubbly. it gives him a sense of perotection, that his boyfriend is by his side and Ace by his, it’s an easy way to let everyone else know that Ace is with him and they shouldn’t try anything

telling stories about him and their relationship, the special moments and the funny moments, telling them to the crew and laughing and listening to them “oooo” and “awhh” is another one of Ace’s favorite things. not only Ace loves how comfortable and open he is, but the Whitebeard crew does too- hearing embarrassing stories about their brother or seeing how whipped he is and teasing him for it. Whitebeard loves knowing that Ace has someone to look after him when he’s gone, and to give him the love that he deserves- Whitebeard is like Ace’s boyfriend’s #1 fan, huge supporter of their relationship and anyone who isn’t is gonna deal with him & the rest of the crew

he’s a sucker for his lover’s mushy love confessions and compliments, saying them so boldly and shamelessly in front of people gives him butterflies in his stomach and makes him blush, yes Ace can get flustered

NSFW

the public dirty talk is just- he’ll go up and put his hands around his boyfriend’s torso and whisper the perviest things in his ear “your ass looks nice today”, “I can see the hickies I left last night” “no ones at the back of the boat, how bout I go bend you over the railing hm?” 

and if he do the same to Ace? whoo boy, he goes weak in the knees and I’m not kidding, whimpers right there, or if he’s more fiery that night, he growls

Ace has no problem kissing his s/o in public, and if it turns into a makeout session, so be it. however he tries to keep those public makeouts short so none of the crew get uncomfortable. Ace will keep him on his lap until the two can go somewhere more private

as much as Ace loves how open his boyfriend is with their relationship, he doesn’t want him to tell any of the crew what goes on in the bedroom when Ace is the sub, that does happen- Ace is a switch with more dom tendencies, but still a switch

Ace will literally go up to his boyfriend on deck and grope his ass from behind, using his own body to shield his actions from anyone else’s eyes. and he sometimes will just boldly grab his boyfriend’s dick/groin, as long as Whitebeard doesn’t see

SFW

Sabo can be confident or flustered, no in between. he’s so happy that his boyfriend is completely okay with their relationship and letting everyone know about it. he feels like that means he’s not ashamed to be with Sabo, it also means that if Sabo is ever feeling down it won’t be weird for him to find his boyfriend, and Sabo wants to be tehre for him as much as he can and he wouldn’t be able to do that as well if they had to hide their relationship

he likes that everyone at in the R.A. knows his lover and say hi when passing, Koala and him are like best friends- that’s probably the only part of his boyfriend’s open-nesss that he doesn’t like, Koala and him always share humiliating stories and tease Sabo about everything

Sabo is touch starved, thank god his boyfriend is 100% okay with pda, seriously Sabo has to/wants to hold his hand every second. public hugs, hand holding, and nose kisses are a must. Sabo adores kissing him on his nose or cheek. Koala always fake gags when Sabo is the one to initiate any affection, but when his boyfriend does it Koala always “awhh”s 

just being able to sit with his boyfriend on his lap, or sitting on his boyfriend’s lap is amazing, providing a sense of peace in the hectic life of his 

Sabo gives little gifts and trinkets to him, and always shows off the ones he gets from him. Sabo is constantly talking or bragging about him, and always blushes whenever it’s reversed 

NSFW

Sabo is pretty shy when it comes to sex/sex related things, he likes it to be private

however, he’s a sucker for his boyfriend, so if he wants to get touchy in public, Sabo won’t exactly stop him- neck kisses and groping are things Sabo loves, giving and recieving

at least with pda being a normal with the two of them, when Sabo is needy and wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s waitst to pull him against him specifically holding his ass against his front, it’s not deemed suspicious by anyone 

as for hikeys, he doesn’t really like to be seen with them, but he loves seeing his boyfriend adorning them and he loves seeing him wear them proudly

Sabo likes keeping his hand on his lover’s thigh, sliding it closer and closer to a certain part and feeling his boyfriend shiver and harden under his touch

he makes subtle suggestive comments, flying under the radar so that only him and his boyfriend understand, though sometimes his boyfriend gives it away on accident, or not, and Sabo turns red

SFW

Luffy is not shy whatsoever, constantly clinging to his boyfriend and with his grin growing even wider when he hugs Luffy tighter against him

numerous kisses and hugs and touches throughout the day, not a second he’s not holding on to his lover. piggy back rides and shoulder rides are a given, and having his partner cling onto him like a koala leaves Luffy grinning for the rest of the day

Luffy is overall jsut himself, not really changing anything except he’s a bit more lovey-dovey and sentimental, he puts his hat on him a lot and is often in extremely close proximity, never once leaving his side- and Luffy feels secure and safe when his boyfriend returns the action

during fights Luffy loves to tell everyone who he’s dating, yelling things like “I’m dating him!” “Go ______! I love you!!”

ah that’s another thing, constantly saying “I love you”, every greeting and goodbye and moments in between is littered with the words, always accompanied by a rather sloppy kiss 

Luffy doesn’t care who’s watching, he’s just as open as his boyfriend- 10x more actually

one thing he does like though, that not many people would think about, is purely having someone waiting for him, staying at his side and embracing him anytime. Luffy has had his fair share of losses, he doesn’t show it but deep down he’s riddled with guilt and pain and sadness and fear, he doesn’t want to lose another person. holding his lover after a battle, after a nightmare, makes him feel better because he knows he’s still there with Luffy. being able to run to him and let down his captain facade and just cry into his partner is something that Luffy desperately needs and loves

NSFW

Luffy is shameless, the most shameless op character, there is nothing he won’t do in front of the crew, yeah I’m implying public sex- deal with it

Luffy will walk right up to him and start a heated makeout session, ignoring any protests from the crew- he will fuck him right then and there, annd also wouldn’t mind being taken right then and there- or probably at least moving to a different part of the deck because he knows that his crew would be very uncomfrtable at that, it’s not embarrassing to do it he just cares about his crew’s feelings too

but on the back deck, against the walls, in the crowsnest, all free territory- Luffys even done it with him on the ladder up to the crows nest, those rubber arms are very useful

speaking of rubber arms, he has like his own version of bondage, purely cosisting of his arms and legs and hands, wrapping his arms around his boyfriends arms so he can hold them behind his while Luffy fucks him doggy style

Luffy is also definitely a switch, down for any position too, serioulsy those rubber powers are no joke, he can do any position, though he does prefer close contact ones where the two of them can hold each other

Luffy is KINKY- yes I said he is kinky! he doesn’t know what a kink is nor that he one (many) he just thinks it’s something he likes. but, no talks of another person, no pain to either unless it’s spanking, no blood, no degradation unless his boyfriend asks for it (he’s not very good at it though)

Luffy is loud, he loves that his lover is loud too, and is fine wwith him leaving hickeys or scratch marks- because Luffy is totally fine adorning those himself

SFW

Law is not very open about his relationship, I mean he’s completely fine telling his crew and the strawhats and the kid pirates, the crews he knows, but telling anyone else wworries him because he doesn’t really want him to be a known associate because people would come after him to get to Law

he would prefer if his boyfriend kept their reltionship details private, he doesn’t want to be embarrassed by any stories he has of him, and he likes to be very private man overall, he would actually get quite irritated f his lover is very open about what happens in their reltionshp- again Law has no problem about allies or somewhat allies knowing, everyone could know iabout the relationship to be honest, if they wouldn’t all go after his boyfriend because of the connection

Law does secretly love how “okay” he is being in a reltionship with him, dating such a broken and “evil” man. Law is actually very insecure, hiding it well though, and he loves that he has someone to show him the love he rarely ever felt when he was younger, having someone tell him he’s sweet and charming and kind and loveable hit Law right in his heart

that last paragraph of Luffy’s sfw kind of sums up Law’s take on his boyfriend’s open-ness

Law is touch starved, on the ship or in private on an island, with no or barely any people around, he’ll hold his hand and/or have an arm around his wait or shoulder, and he doesn’t mind if his lover does the same. in public if his boyfriend were to initiate any physical affection, Law would try to get him to tone it down, keep it minimal, but he doesn’t want to be rude either so he would go along with it to some extent

in private though he’s touchy and he really wwants to be praised, he also praises his boyfriend a lot because he is just so whipped for him, often thanking him for loving someone like Law, being there for him and offering a safe haven that he rarely has the chance to have- if ever

NSFW

again, Law is a private man, he doesn’t want to make his crew. too uncomfortable, but if his boyfriend were to start something or Law is feeling especially needy, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell the crew to leave the room or simply gare at them 

he likes flustering his boyfriend, seeing someone who is usually so shameless, blush and stutter and get shy, is one of Law’s favorite things

he’s a major tease, similar to Ace with his dirty talk, except the deepness of his voice makes it sound 100x dirtier. one can’t fluster him by whispering dirty talk, his lover just can’t, he can make him hard but flustered is a no go. however, saying something dirty/suggestive out loud infront of people, that would do something- most likely resulting in either a scolding, punishment sex, or both

grind on him and he’ll growl, on certain occasions he has no problem throwig you over his shoulder and. taking you away from the public eye, but don’t try to do the same to him- Law is the dominant one in public and 8/10 of the time during sex

he’s not opposed to being the bottom, but he prefers to top

he lovex that his boyfriend is completely fine with him leaving hickeys and scratches and. just marks in general, it shows he’s taken and makes Law feel proud- Law however likes his marks to be hidden 

[ibijau]

Concubine nhs pt11 / on AO3

It is odd to exist in this little house and not have a purpose, Nie Huaisang decides a few weeks after being discarded. For three years his entire life has revolved around the emperor, his only wish being to distract him from his duties to make him happy. Now the emperor is miserable whenever he visits, and Nie Huaisang isn't allowed to do anything about that. Not when the emperor has made it very clear that he is now disgusted by the idea of any intimacy between them, and talking feels so awkward.

If he cannot kiss him, or please him in bed, if they cannot laugh or even talk, Nie Huaisang doesn't know what the point of everything is anymore. 

His days are emptier than ever. His nights no longer bring any comfort. Nie Huaisang is miserable.

Worse, Nie Huaisang is bored. A deep, insidious boredom that taints every moment he’s awake, that even pursues him in his dreams sometimes, or makes it impossible to sleep, denying him even that relief.

If he weren't so constantly bored, Nie Huaisang wouldn't have started checking those documents the emperor now brings with him when he visits. He’s perfectly aware that he shouldn’t do that all. It’s not his business, it’s politics, it’ll land him in trouble, but... 

But the emperor always falls asleep long before him, and always ends up in terrible positions in that stupid sofa, and half the time he forgets to use a blanket. Nie Huaisang has to make sure the emperor doesn't catch a cold. And then those documents are right there, and he's so bored. 

The books Lan Qiren sends him don't last as long as they used to, now that he doesn't have to stop reading them at night. They're also less interesting, at least those newest batches: treaties on how to analyse texts, or write essays. It's all so painfully boring that by comparison, official reports filled with numbers are pretty interesting. 

Nie Huaisang doesn't mean to read that stuff, it just happens. And the first time it happens, he stops as soon as he realises what he's doing. It's politics, and he's sworn to himself he'd never get involved in that. He scolds himself very hard that first time, and the second one too. Even the third time. But the fourth time… 

The fourth time is different.

The thing is, Nie Huaisang is pretty good with numbers. That's the reason why his father relented and finally recognised him. Nie Huaisang can't read the classics with ease because he’s still learning some of those less common characters. He values fun stories over respected ones, which isn’t what a real scholar could do. And he can't quite say what makes a good poem better than a bad one, he just likes them or he doesn’t. But he's quick at counting and has a natural knack for arithmetics. That's why his father put him in charge of organising banquets and overseeing finances, and he likes to think he saved them some good money in the time he held that duty.

So when he starts noticing discrepancies on those imperial reports, Nie Huaisang doesn't really think. He does what he would have done for his father, and writes down everything he notices. Because he doesn't quite understand what those reports are about, Nie Huaisang doesn't dare to guess why the numbers are wrong. He just knows that they are. So he leaves his notes on the table for the emperor to find when he wakes up, and hope that will be helpful.

He just so badly wants to be helpful. Maybe if he shows that he can still be useful, the emperor will start smiling at him again, or even talk to him.

Nie Huaisang just feels so lonely and bored. 

Later, when it is light again and he's alone in his little house, Nie Huaisang wonders if that was the right thing to do. Since nobody comes to drag him out of his cage to publicly whip him as an example to others, it can't have been wrong. But the emperor doesn't visit for a full three days after that, so maybe it wasn't right either. 

On the third day, the emperor's brother visits, and sheds some light on that long absence. 

"Brother has been given proof that the magistrate in the region of Yunping City was corrupt, and hindering the war effort," the prince explains, which might be the most Nie Huaisang ever heard him say at once. "Urgent measures had to be taken."

Nie Huaisang doesn't dare to ask, and stares at his glass of tea. That report he wrote notes on was definitely about Yunping City. It means he might have become involved in politics after all, against his will. As if he can afford to be making enemies, in his position. 

"Due to this situation, I will leave for Yunping City," the prince announces. "I will work with Lord Jiang to restore the situation. Consort Nie knows him?" 

"Only a little," Nie Huaisang meekly protests. "He is a friend of my father. This humble one knows his children a little, and his ward Wei Wuxian, but not that well." 

The prince nods, and takes a sip of tea. That should be the end of it. The prince never speaks much, and he’s just used more words than he usually does in an entire month. Surely he’s told Nie Huaisang everything he had to say on that matter.

Right?

"Jiang gongzi and Wei gongzi are to assist me," The prince explains, putting down his glass. "Will consort Nie tell me about them? I want to know what to expect." 

Nie Huaisang frowns at that request. 

"Surely there are many others in the palace who can tell you that? This one is only a humble servant's son, his knowledge is too imperfect to be useful." 

"Others can have their opinion," the prince retorts. "I wish to hear consort Nie's." 

A direct order from the imperial prince cannot be denied, least of all by a concubine fallen out of favour. Sick with worry at the prospect of being again dragged into politics, Nie Huaisang still does what he's told and gives as honest a portrait of Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin as he can. He makes sure to point out their qualities, which are many, but also acknowledges their faults: Jiang Cheng's temper, Wei Wuxian's overconfidence, and the way they only really shine when they work together. 

It appears to please the prince, who thanks Nie Huaisang for his answers before taking his leave. He will write from Yunping City, he says, and might ask again for Nie Huaisang’s opinion in the future. 

"Please don't," Nie Huaisang begs. "This humble one is unworthy of such an honour." 

The prince doesn't reply, and Nie Huaisang is left alone to wonder if he's made another mistake. 

That night, the emperor visits again. He doesn't speak about those notes Nie Huaisang left him, though several times he stares at his concubine as if he were on the verge of saying something, only to change his mind at the last minute. His expression is so intense each time that Nie Huaisang ends up pretending to fall asleep just so the emperor will stop looking at him like that.

He takes notice of the fact that this time, the emperor brought a book with him, not reports. Nie Huaisang figures it's a message that his intervention, though perhaps useful, is resented. 

Nobody wants to owe anything to a mere concubine. 

After that one incident, life returns to normal. Or at least, as what passes for normal these days. 

Nie Huaisang is lonelier than ever. The emperor ignores him when he spends the night in the little house. The emperor's uncle, who was supposed to visit and find him a teacher, is too busy to do either due to having to take over some of the prince’s duties. And since that same prince is far away in Yunping City, even that last illusion of companionship has been torn away. 

Nie Huaisang is lonely. 

Nie Huaisang is miserable. 

So miserable, in fact, that he can't even rejoice when the aviary the emperor built for him is finally complete. Of course he puts on a smile when there is a banquet to celebrate this happy occasion, and plays perfectly his role of a cheerful concubine. He almost fools himself into feeling grateful and happy. Maybe he is happy, sitting again with the emperor, seeing him smile like this. It's easy to pretend, when Nie Huaisang so dearly misses how happy they used to be. 

But the next day, when he visits his aviary again, alone this time, Nie Huaisang only feels more depressed than ever. He wants to open every door to every cage, and let those expensive birds fly away. They all look as sad as he feels. But of course just like him, they probably wouldn't know how to survive outside a cage anymore.

If it were up to him, Nie Huaisang would never look at his aviary again. 

It isn't up to him. 

If he doesn't go, it will be noticed, he knows, just as it would be noticed if the emperor stopped coming to see him. If Nie Huaisang doesn’t check on his pretty new birds, people will say that the emperor spent a fortune spoiling a concubine who won't be satisfied with even the most expensive of presents. They will say the emperor is weak and foolish, or worse things even, and Nie Huaisang can't bear it. 

So he visits his birds daily. It is a punishment for fooling the emperor, for playing his father' s games. For being foolish enough to fall in love, when Meng Yao once warned him it is the one mistake a concubine should never make. At the time, Nie Huaisang hadn't understood. He does now. Being discarded would hurt so much less if he could only stop caring. 

But that's life now. Reading boring volumes selected by the emperor's uncle, spending time with birds he doesn't want, being ignored all night by the emperor himself. A new routine, much worse than the old one he used to have. 

A routine that finally shatters when one day, Nie Huaisang finds a stranger in his aviary, looking at his birds. 

Although there were many guests at the celebration to mark the completion of that aviary, the emperor made it clear that no one but Nie Huaisang, himself, and the servants attached to the aviary are allowed to come there. If the emperor were to have given permission to anyone else, he would surely have warned Nie Huaisang. And that boy's clothes are just good enough to make it clear that he cannot be a servant. 

He definitely is just a boy though, probably younger than Nie Huaisang by a few years. And yet there's a certain air to him, as if in spite of his youth, that boy knows more about life than some people much older than him. He just sounds so sad as he greets the talking birds. 

If that boy had been cheerful, or confident, Nie Huaisang could easily have chased him away. Happy people annoy him, when he has so little left to be joyful about. But seeing someone as depressed as himself makes his heart ache, reminding him how very lonely he is. 

Nie Huaisang watches that boy trying to chat with a pair of mynahs in a gentle voice that borders on hopeless, and comes to a decision.

"They're not very chatty," he says, startling the boy. "At least, not yet. I'm still working on teaching them to talk." 

The boy stares at him for a moment, then bows quickly and a little clumsily, betraying that he hasn't been trained for the imperial palace. Nie Huaisang remembers how he struggled as well when his father acknowledged him, when he came to the capital, and feels his heart swell again with sympathy. 

"Are you in charge of training them?" the boy hesitantly asks.

Since the emperor has made it clear that he no longer enjoys seeing Nie Huaisang covered in fineries, most of the time he dresses quite simply. It’s easier to put on, and it makes him feel a little less like a liar. He misses the fine silks and heavy gold sometimes, but plain clothes are more honest. Still, his clothes are only plain by comparison to the more extravagant outfits he used to wear for the emperor. Anyone glancing at him would take him for the privileged son of a great family… which he is, he supposes.

The point is, that boy must have already guessed that Nie Huaisang isn’t just one of the servants looking after the birds, so he doesn’t see any point in hiding.

"They're mine, actually," Nie Huaisang says, only to instantly regret it. 

The boy's eyes open wide, his face turning ashen before he falls to his knees and kowtow before Nie Huaisang, his entire body shaking with terror. 

"T-this humble one didn't realise! This humble one begs for your highness's mercy!"

Distressed by that strong reaction, Nie Huaisang takes a step back.

"I'm no highness."

"Your highness must be consort Nie!” the boy cries out. “This humble one never meant to intrude! This one knows no one is allowed here, but I really had to check, and… may his highness show mercy, though this one is undeserving!"

Nie Huaisang blinks. 

He knows, of course, that he's technically someone important. Servants are always very careful around him, and he has (had) the emperor's favour, which he could easily use to get his way, if he were so inclined. But since he lives in such isolation, and only leaves his little house for official occasions where everyone’s behaviour is strictly regimented by custom, it's rare for him to actually encounter anyone who might feel they owe him such open deference. 

He doesn't particularly enjoy it, he quickly decides.

"Please get up," he orders. "I'm guessing you came here by accident?" 

Refusing to stand up, the boy nods. 

"I was looking for my young master,” he explains in a pitiful voice. “I am a companion to a young lord called Ouyang Zizhen, and he escaped from me a little while ago when playing." 

The name Ouyang is familiar, but only vaguely. They might be related in some way to the emperor's late mother, though Nie Huaisang doesn't think the emperor is particularly close to them. Lord Ouyang is just closely related enough to be allowed to live inside the palace, but his son will likely not be allowed to remain there after his death. Anyway, the emperor rarely mentions them, and Nie Huaisang is pretty sure their son is a lot younger than this boy. 

Noble families like to bring in companions for their sons, as was done for the emperor, because they think it makes them look important.But sometimes what they really want is just a glorified nanny they don’t have to actually pay.

"What's your name?" Nie Huaisang asks. 

"This humble one is Mo Xuanyu." 

The name Mo doesn't ring a bell at all. They must be very minor in rank, or just rich merchants. Either way, people like that would take it as an honour to send one of their sons to the imperial palace, even if it’s just to serve an unimportant family. Being a young lord’s companion would give Mo Xuanyu the chance of a free education, at least if the family he’s serving treats him with any decency. They don’t always, as Nie Huaisang knows. The emperor complained about that sometimes, saying some families were very cruel to their sons’ companions.

But that was back when they would actually talk.

Nie Huaisang can’t remember when was the last time anyone talked to him.

He misses talking.

"Do you like birds, Mo Xuanyu ?" 

"Y-yes, your highness." 

"Me too. Do you know what species are here?" 

Puzzled by that question, Mo Xuanyu dares to look up as he shakes his head. Nie Huaisang grins, and kneels next to him, grabbing the boy's arm to force him back on his feet. It might be a mistake, but he’s been lonely so long, and Mo Xuanyu, in spite of his obvious fear, is actually talking to him.

Nie Huaisang wonders if that’s how the emperor felt that night, when he spoke to him with such insolence in the Unclean Realm. He quickly pushes the thought away. The situations are completely different, because Mo Xuanyu knows who he is.

"Do you want me to give you a tour?" Nie Huaisang asks.

After some hesitation, Mo Xuanyu shakes his head and bows away.

"I should really go find my master," he mumbles. "It's not that I don't want… I mean, this humble one would be honoured, those birds are all so pretty, and I really like… but I can’t, I have to…" 

"Duty calls, I understand,” Nie Huaisang replies. “But then, do you think you might come here again another day? I give you permission, so you won't get punished if you do. And then I can tell you more about the birds, if you’d like." 

Mo Xuanyu's expression is so funny as he eagerly nods, full of awe and wonder. Nie Huaisang almost laughs. 

He hasn’t wanted to laugh in so long.

He knows he probably shouldn't talk like this to a near stranger. He should be prudent, check the status of the Ouyang family, find out who the Mo are, and ask about Mo Xuanyu's reputation. But it has been so long since Nie Huaisang spoke to anyone, and he can't help the sense of kinship he gets when he looks at Mo Xuyanyu. They're the same, he can just tell: small and lonely, thrown into a world where they don't belong, forced to make the best of choices others made for them. 

But Mo Xuanyu shyly promises to visit the aviary again, and Nie Huaisang is happy. 

He hopes they can be friends.

[clairecrive]

“Useless planning” - Sirius Black x reader

A/n: this is my first time writing Sirius even though I love him to death and he's my favourite... I lowkey think I didn't do a good enough job but oh well. Here it is, I hope you like it anyway.

Warnings: none, fluff all the way

Word count: 3K 

(let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist)

(I know this is Billy but I thought the sub to be quite fitting)

Insecurities were normal. Everyone has them. And the same went with flaws and imperfections. Nothing to be ashamed about. That's what y/n and Marlene were trying to convince Lily about. Of course, it's easier said than done but acknowledging the fact is the first step into accepting them.

"James tells me that they're beautiful and that I shouldn't worry about them but I don't know. I don't like them." Lily had confessed to feeling self-conscious about her scars and stretch marks and reticent she was in letting James see her body for this very reason. Of course, the boy you love telling you that you're beautiful the way you are is certainly flattering but not problem-solving in this case. At least, y/n thought so and let her friends know.

"I don't think seeing it that way is going to help."

"When has James helped to make something better?" Marlene snickered making y/n roll her eyes and Lily glower at her.

"They don't have to be beautiful and you don't have to look at them in that way. They're just natural, you know? There's a reason you have them, meaning that it's your body's reaction to something." Sometimes, it helped using the scientific approach. Others, however, sharing was indeed caring.

"And in fact, everyone has them. Look." So pulling her skirt up a bit, y/n showed the marks that adorned her thighs.

"How are you so confident about them?"

"I'm not, actually. And it has taken me a long time to accept them, let alone show them this way." In fact, it had taken a long time for y/n to come to terms with the way her body was and to accept it and love it. It was still a work in progress if she had to be honest. But she was not ashamed to wear shorts or mini skirts now and that was indeed progress.

"And, I'm not saying that James is wrong or anything. I'm sure he told you that because they're a part of you and that boy cherishes the ground you walk on like you're a saint or something. He just wants to help and that's sweet of him. I think though, that this is something you have to come to terms on your own too." Y/n felt like adding. By all means, James' efforts were appreciated but she didn't want her friend loving herself through someone elses' love.

"Y/n's right. Don't think you're beautiful because Jamesie says so but because you are." Marlene agreed before throwing a chocolate frog in her mouth.

"So you're saying that Sirius telling you you're beautiful didn't help you even a bit?" Lily threw with a suggestive raise of eyebrows pointed at y/n who barely shrugged not wanting to indulge her.

"It's like with Remus, you know? He has five people telling him that he's the most precious human being on this heart and that his scars hardly make him less attractive but does he agree? Of course not. And yeah, us telling him certainly helps but it's something he has to realize himself or the situation won't ever change." But she couldn't help herself and had to add, "Besides, Sirius says that about every girl at Hogwarts. It's hardly helpful."

"She has a point." Still munching on her sweet, Marlene agreed yet again even though this time her tone had grown sombre. It had been a while and she was over it but she had been one of those girls to make the mistake of fooling herself into thinking that Sirius was going to give her more.

"He doesn't look at them the way he looks at you though." Stubborn as always, Lily insisted.

"I'm sure it's 'cause he sees a challenge."

"If only he knew you liked him."

"Why don't you tell him, then? He's been after you since the year started." Following up on Marlene's lead, Lily wondered.

"Don't get me wrong, I like him alright. But I'm not interested in what he can give me."

"Mindblowing sex?" Marlene pointed out in an a-matter-of-fact tone

"Fleeting interest and attention." To which y/n sternly replied.

"His attention is hardly fleeting seeing as it's been months."

"Lily, why are you pursuing this? We both see how he is with girls and I refuse to end up like that."

"There's nothing wrong in liking someone and letting them know." Lily got defensive, maybe because she was thinking of James. Whatever the case, she wasn't going to change y/n's mind. She was not being delusional, just pragmatic.

"They're pathetic." Marlene snickered and even if y/n agreed to some degree, she ignored her.

"No there's not. It's the end result that I'm referring to." Y/n conceded but the problem wasn't that. It took a lot of courage to publicly pursue someone, that she had to admit.

"Which is?"

"Heartbroken," Marlene answered solemnly earning a nod from y/n.

The group of girls were utterly clueless about the material they had provided for the aforementioned guys who were currently under the invisibility cloak.

Remus rosy-cheeked but flattered at y/n's words. Not that it was the first time he had heard them but it was always nice to feel appreciated. James was glad that his efforts were not noticed by everyone but especially by Lily even though he didn't like the fact that she was still worrying about something that seemed so meaningless for him. Peter looked bored to death as he couldn't be bothered with girl problems while Sirius was pouting despite the fact that the girl he had been chasing for months had confessed to liking him back.

But that pout was short-lived as Sirius Black was known for being a man of action. Now that he knew why y/n was so reticent in giving in to his flirting, he had the key to solving this problem. The smirk he was so infamous for took its place on his lips while a plan was already forming in his mind.

"Stop blushing, Moony, we tell you that every day and so does y/n. Now c'mon I have a girl to woo." And with that, he pushed everyone away and filling them in on his plan when they were out of the girls' earshot.

The first phase of the plan was to take place in a couple of hours at lunch. He was to show that his attention was solely reserved for y/n and her only. Sirius knew that he had a reputation and even he was aware that he was a big flirt. While he knew that it was completely harmless, he could see how it looked in y/n's eyes. Or in everyone's really.

So when lunchtime came around, Sirius took his place at the Gryffindor table. Y/n usually sat with them, on the bench across from him and beside Remus. Deep in conversation with Moony, she didn't notice him sitting down but he didn't do anything to grab her attention. He waited patiently for y/n to be done with whatever she was talking about with Remus to finally speak.

"Hello there, angel. Aren't you looking cute tonight." The plan was in motion, his charm: on.

"Hi, Sirius." And yet, y/n appeared to be unbothered.

"I heard you got into a little of a catfight."

"You made it sound like we pulled each others' hair or something."

"Isn't that what happened?"

"Of course not. I was just telling Moony what happened, he can fill you in." She said dismissively while gathering her things.

"Why don't you do it?" Sirius tried to keep the desperation out of his voice but given the smirk Remus gave him, he was failing. Just like the first phase of his plan.

"I have a class to attend Black." Rolling her eyes at him, y/n stood up not before leaving a kiss on Remus' head, " see you later Moons."

"Don't I get a kiss too?" She heard Sirius' cry of indignation and didn't even turn around to respond.  

"My kisses are for those you can appreciate them and you get far too many of those from others to do so."

"I swear if I didn't hear her before, I'd say she's head over heels for you," Sirius complained to his friend slouching in his seat. His eyes following her silhouette until y/n walked out of the room.

"She's my best friend." Shrugging his shoulders, Remus brushed away his worries. Yes, y/n was affectionate with him but she had always been this way. There was nothing romantic behind her gestures.

"We've known her the same amount of time, why is she so comfortable with you than she is with me? You're not the one constantly flirting with her."

"She's cautious about opening up with people and as you've heard before she doesn't trust you with her feelings." He pointed out what Sirius already knew given her previous confession. The first phase of the plan had seemingly failed. Y/n hadn't stuck around long enough for him to put it into motion but he had not lost hope yet.

"You seemed to have your work cut out for you though, Pads," Remus said after a while and told him about the fight he had mentioned when he first sat down. Apparently, some girl was complaining to one of her friends about him and the way he had treated her. What had made y/n compelled to butt in and defend his honour though, was that the girl had twisted what actually happened, spreading instead some nasty shit about him to no doubt get her revenge. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, after all.

"You know how much she hates confrontations and arguing but she went straight into one for you. It must mean you've done something right."

Sirius couldn't help the smile that found its way on his lips at Remus' words. He had gathered as much seeing as he knew her well. They had been friends since first year after all. Also, because that meant that he didn't need most of the phases of his plan but one: earning y/n's trust.

He knew that he had it in some quantity seeing as you were friends. He just had to nudge her to take a step in the direction he knew she wanted to take but was too afraid to.

So, when your last class ended, he made sure to be waiting for you outside. As always you were one of the last to get out, Marlene and Lily on your side.

"Since when do you specialize in chaperone activities, Black?" Marlene snickered when she noticed him leaning on the wall.

"Only for the fairest maiden of the kingdom, of course."

His charm was one of the things he was most known for but he had never been able to work his magic on you in that way. One day, you were talking with Remus about some books you were reading and how enchanted you were with old stories and myths and legends. Sirius of course had no idea what you were talking about, not having read that particular book, but he was familiar enough with the subject thanks to his education. So he had started talking like a medieval knight just to catch your attention and maybe to annoy you but he was pleased to notice the amusement in your eyes and how you'd respond to him in a similar tone, playing along with him. Whenever you two started talking like this, the others would always look at you weirdly but none of you seemed bothered by it, least of all Sirius. Whatever he could do to make you smile, he'd do it gladly.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure, dear sir?" She played along and Sirius was counting on it. He briefly threw a suggestive look at Lily who seemed to understand as she pulled Marlene away ignoring her protests.

"Oh no, the pleasure is all mine, my lady. Would you give me the honour of coming with me? I have a surprise for you." And to top it all, he offered her his arm. Y/n didn't know whether to roll her eyes at him or indulge him but she'd be lying to herself if she said that she wasn't intrigued.

"How can I say no when you ask so politely, sir."  And so she took his arm and followed him through the hallways up to the Astronomy Tower. Y/n knew what this place meant to Sirius. They had even spent a lot of time there together. It had kind of become their place when they needed some peace and quiet or to simply spend some time together away from the noisiness of the common room.

"I'm here to prove that I'm worthy of your affections, my chérie." He solemnly said after you sat down. If this whole thing had been somewhat normal between you, this was certainly not and it definitely took her by surprise.

"What are you talking about?"

"I know you like me, y/n."

"That's hardly a secret, Sirius. We're friends, of course, I like you."

"I mean, you like me as I like you. Not just as friends."

"Who told you?"

"Most importantly, I know why you're refusing my advances."

"Look, Sirius-"

"Please, let me say this first and I promise that I won't bother you after if you say no." Despite the pun he and his friends would always throw around, he wasn't known to be this serious and he hardly ever was. Taken back by the sheer determination she found in his eyes and in his tone, y/n simply nodded and let him talk.

"I understand your reservations, if I were you I'd be thinking the same. You know me though, y/n, better than most and you know that I care about you. I can see why you'd be afraid of opening your heart to me but I swear I wouldn't be insisting so much if I wasn't sure that this is what I want." y/n had never heard Sirius talk about his feelings so freely. She'd be lying if she denied how his words touched her, her heartbeat would give her away.

But there was also something else on stake.

"It's not that, Sirius."

"Then what is it? Don't you trust me?"

"I do trust you. It's just- I don't want to get heartbroken and ruin our friendship at the same time."

"If you trust me then why are you so sure that I'm going to hurt you?" Sirius wears his heart on his sleeve, that was one of the things y/n had always admired him for. How brave he was to always show and tell every that went pass his mind. Now, seeing him like this, arms crossed on his chest, his eyes flashing, her heart helpelessly hurt and she almost winced at the fact that she was hurting him.

"Oh no, Sirius, no. I don't think you'd do that willingly. After all, it's not anyone's fault if you lose interest in me or just stop caring for me in that way. And when that happens, I'm not sure I can go back to just being friends. Thus, ruining our group of friends and that is not something I'm willing to give up to attempt whatever it is you're proposing." She quickly tried to explain, desperate to make him see that it wasn't about him, not completely. Mostly, she was afraid. Afraid of admitting her feelings for him, afraid of indulging them knowing that when you have something special, it means that you can lose it.

"That goes both ways you know." But Sirius was always able to see right through her. And he knew what he felt and now that he also knew how she felt, he wasn't going to go down without a fight.

"I did not wake up yesterday and realized I have feelings for you, Sirius." she scoffed, not telling him that she had been in love with him since they come back from the summer break in their third year. They were now in their fifth.

"It didn't happen to me neither. If you haven't noticed, I've been chasing you for months."

"Yes, while always having an alternative option on the go."

"I thought you had learned by now not to listen to rumours." Sirius tilted his head in a way that reminded y/n of an adorable puppy.

"When it comes to you and girls, Sirius, they're not rumours. At least, not the part that interested me."

"What do you mean?"

"I know that you treat them right and I know that you don't offer them more than what you give them. Those are rumours they spread in hope that other girls will stay away from you and you'd go back to them. But you do get with them. Sure, Katy was talking bullshit about you being an asshole and I know that's not true but I also know that you have been with her."

"A year ago."

"Then why is she still talking about it?"

"Don't know, angel. I'm pretty memorable if I do say so myself."

"So, you're saying that you haven't been with anyone in a year?"

"I've been too busy with you, chérie."

Well, that was news. Y/n had to admit that she hadn't seen this coming. And it definitely changed things. Sirius had been right when he said that she knew him better than most. And so, when she looked into his eyes, she knew that along with smug and cocky he was also being honest.

"Well, I've just checked your agenda, my love, and it seems it will be so for quite some time."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"A bit of both."

"I'm more than fine with it, angel. Now, give me a kiss and bring me to heaven."

[catxsnow]

CIRCUS FREAK D.G.

Request: okay so i was listening to rewrite the stars and got the idea where the reader is a socialite from a very wealthy family, and she fell for dick grayson but her family doesn't approve because he's not a real wayne/rich. so can i request that? thank you once again!!🥺❤️

Warning: swears, having really shitty parents

A/N: That gif just melts my heart every time I see it. 

Word Count: 2k

Dick Grayson was an unexpected surprise in your life.

Your parents were the kind of people that expected you to marry a literal prince. They wanted you to continue the family legacy of money, power, and popularity. Generations of marrying important figures to keep the family name from being tainted. Your family took pride in their place in the world.

When they moved to Gotham, there was only one family that was going to be good enough for your parents: The Wayne's. Bruce Wayne was the richest person in the city - maybe even the entirety of the country. When you parents wiggled their way into his life and to his famous gala's, you were to be dragged along as well.

Your parents pointed out dozens of rich men, those who owned big businesses or were part of world affairs. They wanted you to talk to them, date them, and eventually marry one of them. It wasn't those snobby men that you were intrigued by. It was the man across the room with a genuine smile.

At the time you weren't aware that this was Bruce's oldest adopted son. He didn't seem like the rest. Dick wasn't trying to prove his worth by being there, in fact it almost seemed like he didn't want to be there at all. Behind his smile, you could see that he had places he'd rather be - but his kindness to others never faltered.

Out of all the people in that room, he was the only one that you wanted to talk to.

Dick felt your eyes on him. He looked up from the person he was having a conversation with and gazed at you from across the room. A smile lit up his face at the sight of how stunning you looked. He no longer cared about the man he was chatting with - he wanted to go talk to you instead.

That was how you met the love of your life. The second that he asked you to dance, you knew that you never wanted to let him go. You danced your heart away that night, twirling and spinning until your legs were ready to give out on you. Being with Dick... it was like floating in the stars.

You met with him again and again after that night. Every meet up seemed to last shorter than the previous, you never seemed to get enough time with him. There weren't enough hours in the day for you to be with Dick as much as you wanted to. He had cut down on his over time at work, even patrol to be with you.

He was in love.

You weren't like the rest of the snobby rich, young adults that attended these gala's. Unlike so many of these families that just wanted to make money, you wanted to make the world a better place. Dick respected that about you. While you were both trying to change the world in different ways, it seemed to bring you closer together.

Bruce knew who you were. He was aware of your parents and their appearance in Gotham. Thinking like a business man, he assumed that you were only interested in Dick for the money in his name. Upon meeting you, he could clearly see that wasn't the case at all. You were completely head over heels for him.

The issue arose when Dick was meant to meet your parents for the first time. Every man that you had brought home to them wasn't good enough. They drove him away until you were left heartbroken. As the son of Bruce Wayne, you assumed that they would approve of him. Even so, Dick was brave enough to stick around through your parents wrath.

Dick was dressed in his best suit. You were looped around his arm in your best clothes as well. The two of you stood outside the doors of the fanciest restaurant in the city. Your parents were already inside and waiting upon the two of you. Dick leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips.

"Stop worrying so much."

"Aren't I supposed to be telling you that?" You chuckled. Dick rolled his eyes and led you through the doors. Truth be told, he wasn't nervous. Throughout all his years, he had impressed every set of parents that he met. Yours couldn't be that different. "Just... don't think of me differently after today, okay?"

"I would never, my love," Dick assured. You switched from having your arm around his to intertwining your hands. The server led you towards the table your parents were sitting in. They looked to be in a good mood. Hopefully they would keep it up when you arrived with Dick.

Dick Grayson should have been nervous. After knowing you this past half a year, he didn't think that anyone related to you could be cruel. You were the kindest person that he had ever met, always worried about everyone around you before yourself. He assumed that it was your parents that raised you like that.

He was wrong, very wrong. Your parents seemed to be angered the second that you two sat down at the table. Dick was on his best behavior. He made sure to give the biggest smile, shook their hands, and referred to them with the utmost respect. It didn't seem to matter, the second they laid eyes on him they weren't impressed.

When you told your mother that you were bringing a Wayne to dinner, they assumed you meant a real Wayne - not an adopted one. Bruce was far too old for you, Damian far too young. Tim was the one that they were expecting, even if he was considerably younger than you as well. Even if he wasn't a real Wayne, he was the one to run WE.

Dick Grayson was nothing but a circus freak.

A boy who was born from poor parents and grew up in the circus. He was the exact opposite of what your parents wanted of you. Even with being adopted by Bruce, it wasn't enough for them. You were tired of pleasing your parents. Dick was the love of your life, you knew it in less than a year of being with him.

"You're lucky Bruce Wayne adopted you. I suppose living in a circus you had no where to go but up," Your mother spoke. She sipped her wine, acting as if what she had said was a compliment. Dick's eyes widened in shock but he remained quiet.

"You're not a real Wayne, though, right? Like Bruce's inheritance isn't going to go to you, it'll go to his youngest, the blood son?" Your father pitched in. "(Y/N) are you sure you want this one? What about the other, the one running Bruce's company - at least he has something going for him."

"That's enough!" You raised your voice. Your parents were not-so-subtle about their dislike towards Dick. They shamed his upbringing, saying that he was lucky to be taken in by Bruce rather than continue his life in the circus. Though you knew their words hurt him, he stayed calm throughout the matter.

You on the other hand, couldn't hear anymore of it. "Who the fuck do you think you are to say those things? Huh? You're nothing but snobbish pricks who only want me to marry for money! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of seeing you on your high fucking horse thinking you're better than everyone!

"I'm ashamed to call you my parents. You don't care about Gotham or your own daughter! You only care about yourselves and money. Have fun being fucking miserable, I'm not putting up with your shit any longer. Never again."

The restaurant had gone silent. All eye were on your table, listening in to the scene that you were causing. Your parents sat there in shock. you had never showed any signs of aggression like that before. Not once in your life had you went against them so fiercely and so publicly. Unfortunately, they blamed this attitude on Dick.

Before they could say anything about your outburst, you grabbed Dick's hand and nearly dragged him out of the restaurant. You were beyond angry. So full of rage, humiliation, even guilt. You so desperately wanted this dinner to go well and it had gone anything but. Dick finally stopped you from racing back towards his car.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as he looked down to you. Without hesitating, he pulled you into a much needed hug. You sobbed into his chest, your heart aching for the words that your parents said to him. He didn't deserve that, any of it. Dick was too polite to stand up against strangers like that - especially when they were your parents.

"I'm sorry," You whispered. Dick kissed the top of your head before wiping away your tears. When you asked him not to judge you for your parents, he never thought you would mean to this extreme. Still, he kept with his promise. You weren't your parents, you were nothing like them.

"Don't be," Dick assured. He had gone through far worse things than some angry parents. He got broken, battered, and bruised every week - a few hurtful words shouldn't have fazed him. But seeing you so upset because you cared this deeply about him? That broke his heart far more than what your parents said about him.

"My parents are horrible people. They've always only cared about keeping the family name as an important figure. I've pretty much would be stuck in an arranged marriage if they got what they wanted," You squeezed your eyes shut, remembering the hurt looks on Dick's face as they spoke poorly about him.

Dick didn't know what to say. To be honest, he was still in shock over the events that had just happened between you and your parents. Firstly with how horrible they were, and secondly, how quick you were to stand up for him. You had only known him for six months and you were willing to throw away your relationship with you parents for him.

Realizing just how committed you were to this relationship sparked something in him. He knew that he loved you, and even if it was a relatively short time together with you, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Dick was completely and utterly in love with you.

"You're not a freak, Dick," you continued as he didn't speak. Without him saying what was on his mind you were left to believe that he was thinking the worst. He no longer wanted to be with, he didn't love you anymore. It broke you to think like that, you would do anything to change it. "You're not a Wayne, you're a Grayson. A Flying Grayson, that's the man that I love."

"I love you," Dick finally spoke his mind. Relief flooded you; that was what you wanted to hear. "You aren't your parents, I see that more than ever now. Just like how I'm not Bruce. We're meant to be our own people, to live and grow and discover who we really are. Right now, I know that I'm meant to grow with you."

"You make me a better person every day, Dick Grayson," You smiled up at him. Dick pulled you closer by your hips and lowered his lips to yours. He didn't care about the random people walking by you or the sound of car horns in the background, you were all that mattered.

It didn't matter if you parents didn't approve of him. He had your heart, and you hoped that he never let it go.

[sunriseseance]

please,,, even if you dont answer this publicly i wanna know your In Depth Thoughts on fanon klaus and the issues w him bc i also have issues w fanon klaus but i cant put it in words

This got SO LONG, so I hope you meant it when you said you wanted in depth! Holy shit I sorta lost my mind on this.

In my early days as a bear-poker in this fandom, I described fanon!Klaus as that person who gets resurrected in a horror movie and comes back different. As an audience member, I can tell he's wrong, but nobody interacting with him directly seems to know this. I've also talked a little bit about Klaus and intelligence before, which plays into any discussion about fanon!Klaus, but I'll be more specific here. Before I get started, I wanna say that fandom is a fun space and I don't think anyone is *bad* for creating/enjoying fanon!Klaus, especially not for the third reason I lay out. I just think he's awful, and has some harmful roots that I doubt the people writing him even know about on a conscious level.

Okay, let's get into this. Because I'm me and Wittgenstein's early work that he later disagreed with has changed my entire way of interacting with the world, I'm gonna define my terms. Let's talk about what fanon!Klaus is LIKE before we talk about why I REALLY DON'T LIKE HIM. Fanon!Klaus is a happy, stupid, sweet, childish, bubbly, luminous free spirit. He wears bubblegum pink skirts and he cries when Diego eats his cookies. He doesn't know what numbers are, he can't count, he can't walk and chew gum, he thinks that Africa is a country, he forgets that homophobia exists, he doesn't know that drugs are bad for him, the list goes on (These are all real examples. Can you tell what part of fanon annoys me the most?). He cries at the drop of a hat, and doesn't understand his place in the family. He'd move heaven and earth to help the people around him, and he'd never be mean to anyone but Luther (and even then just barely) He constantly needs attention, supervision, etc. He makes jokes about modern memes and listens exclusively to pop music. He's really damaged but it's only because nobody Took Care Of Him and he needs someone to Rescue Him.

Canon Klaus is mean, and quick, and sharp, and miserable, and hiding, and funny because you're laughing WITH him, and an old soul, and a goth, and chronically apathetic, and selfish, and so fucking smart, and acutely aware of just how much he matters to other people. He makes rape jokes, he figures out how to get info on the eye while high out of his mind, he speaks like 10 languages, he listens to Nina Simone, he uses people's inherent fear of the dead to buy himself time, he finds the perfect story within the dead to cause a rift, he tells Luther TO HIS FACE that he doesn't care if the world ends. Klaus is a fascinating study in queer trauma, and robbing him of these traits is a complete disservice to yourself AND the character.

I say this often about fanon!Klaus, but WHO IS THIS??? Like…. Okay, if I gave you this list and you didn't know it was about Klaus, would you think it was? I think he's literally unrecognizable. He's not any of the things I know or love about Klaus. He's nobody to me, except a nuisance wearing the same skin suit and clogging the tags. He is also, weirdly, the most popular character in the entire fandom. I wanna think about why, and I have 3 theories that I think can all be true separately or simultaneously instance to instance.

First, fanon!Klaus exists because of internalized homophobia, classism, and anti-addict rhetoric. I think that on some level people don't believe addicts, feminine queer men, or homeless people are capable of intelligence. I think people see Klaus's canonical positive traits and they sort of throw them out the window because they don't make sense with their world view. A queer addict is a helpless tragedy, and he's someone that needs rescuing by Kind Strong Dave. A queer addict can't be smart, because then he wouldn't be an addict. A queer addict can't be wily, or interesting, because then he wouldn't be an addict. Fandom sees a feminine queer mlm and knows he should be in a sparkly bubblegum pink skirt, and saying "dahling" or "wig" or whatever else all the time. They know he should be bashful and submissive and always falling into the arms of Kind Strong Dave who protects him from Evil. They also know he should really, really like Britney Spears, and not give a shit about Nina Simone.

Second, fanon!Klaus exists because people want to excuse negative behavior in their favorite characters. Klaus is selfish and mean and apathetic. He just is. These are flaws that haunt him, and define a lot of his interactions. These are, also, pretty tough flaws to excuse (which… Hey…. I have a solution for that). I think that fanon Klaus, who just doesn't GET that he's being mean, and is too stupid not to become an addict (I don't think addiction is a flaw, but I do think that addiction plays into this), and is too out of touch and childish to understand that he shouldn't just fucking leave, comes from a place of wanting Klaus to be a good person who does good things. I'm sorry, but he isn't. Not always. I think the impulse to make him constantly sweet and constantly stupid comes from wanting Klaus's actions to be fundamentally excusable. He can't help it! He's just too much of a useless twink to know that it's bad to lie! (also, side note, fanon!Ben comes from this side of fanon!Klaus. In canon, Klaus is self destructing on purpose and Ben's presence helps…. Maybe, possibly, twice. In fanon, Klaus is just stupid and he needs a babysitter and that is Ben, the motiveless, endlessly loving but Exhausted braincell holder. This is fucked up on many levels. Ben is an asshole, and we all need to get used to that idea quick).

The third and final reason is that fanon!Klaus is… More fun, in the traditional sense of the word. Fanon!Klaus seems like he comes from a very emotional romcom or sitcom or something. He's like a barbie. He's fun to play dress-up with. He's fun to make incorrect quotes about. He's fun to write about, especially when it's about his siblings herding him or coddling him. Good ol' useless, loveable Klaus. I think this is partially because Klaus is a pretty fucking heavy character. He's a traumatized homeless queer drug addict, and that's sort of hard to make jokey fandom content about. Not impossible, I don't think, but not easy. This isn't to say that angsty fandom content isn't guilty of fanon!Klaus, though. It absolutely is. Often when Klaus willingly shares his feelings, or cries in front of someone, or asks for help for something more intense than tying him to a chair, it's fanon!Klaus. Hell, any time he GETS rescued it's teetering into that territory. He's still completely devoid of all of the grit and intrigue of canon, but he's fun to write about, and fun to project onto, and fun to rescue. He's also EASIER to write. People know that Klaus is a funny character, they know they laugh when he's on screen, but it is WAY harder to write a character you're laughing with than it is to write a character you're laughing at. It's WAY easier to write a character who moves your angst plot on by asking for help, or necessitating rescuing, than it is to work out how these things would happen without initiation. I get it, and in spite of the length of this, I don't think it's the end of the world.

I guess as I close this out, I would remind everyone that Klaus is smart, and mean, and over 30 years old. He's not a babe in the woods, or a damsel in distress, or a useless silly junkie twink. I promise that the real Klaus is worth the time and effort it takes to engage with him.

[ouyangzizhensdad]

So one thing I am confused about. I see a lot of takes on how Wwx acted like a gay stereotype in the first few chapters. And this is pointed out as a mark of his homophobia (as in he's homophobic because he thinks that's how a gay person would act). But, from context of the book, it seems to me he's weaponizing what *society* will think a gay man would act like to get out of what he views as a dangerous situation? As in, to me he's deliberately playing up stereotypes... (1/2)

(2/2) to make people uncomfortable and leave him alone. This isn't to say he's not internalized some stuff. Working through those feelings is a major part of the book. But it feels like people seem to be missing the fact that he's using how people are uncomfortable with Mxy as a means to get out of what he sees as a tight situation. Rather like how we get a woman using 'lady problems' as an excuse to make men uncomfortable and leave her alone. Or am I completely of the mark?

Oh anon, dear anon, how did you know I’ve been meaning to write a post about this since I’ve first been introduced to these takes? Have you taken a trip to the dark recesses of my mind lately (or maybe spied on my drafts)? 

Before we get started, I do want to address the fact that the ExR translation, which is generally how international fans first access the novel, uses terms/ways of phrasing things about cut-sleeves that make it seem more connoted than what you can see in the original chinese, thereby colouring how we may perceive WWX’s opinions on cutsleeves (since he is the narrator). If you compare pumpkinpaix’s translation of chapter 2 to that of ExR’s, you may understand what I mean (I personally went and checked the original with my limited chinese skills and pumpkinpaix’s is the most faithful translation imo).

Compare and contrast: 

Pumpkinpaix’s translation: “Thank goodness, this body had not been born with a strange appearance, only strange tastes. Here was a grown man who not only wore a full face of rouge and powder, but wore it in such an ugly fashion!“

ExR scans’ translation: “Fortunately, the body wasn’t born this way—it was only one of the owner’s penchants. He was no-doubt a man, yet he was covered with makeup (not to mention, badly applied makeup). Ugh, how unbearable!“

And another: 

Pumpkinpaix’s translation: “Not only chased, but banished with great shame: for Mo Xuanyu was a cutsleeve who even dared to recklessly molest and harass his peers. With this public scandal, along with the mediocrity of his talent and the insignificance of his cultivation progress, there was no reason to let him stay in the family any longer.

To make matters worse, no one knew what kind of shock he’d suffered, but after he returned, he seemed to have gone completely mad. He had good days and bad—it was as if he had been scared witless. After reading to this point, Wei Wuxian furrowed his brow. Being just a cutsleeve was one thing, but a lunatic as well! No wonder his face was all covered in powder and rouge like an old hanged ghost, and no wonder no one found the bloody array surprising.”

ExR scans’ translation: “On top of that, he was driven back shamefully.Mo XuanYu was homosexual, and had enough nerve to harass the other disciples. The scandal was revealed to the public and, as he had few achievements in terms of cultivation, there were no reasons for him to stay in the clan.Like adding frost to snow, aside from the event itself, when Mo XuanYu returned, he often behaved in a crazy manner, almost as if his life was scared out of him.The story was almost too complex to be put into words. Wei WuXian’s eyebrows twitched.Not only a lunatic, a homosexual lunatic as well. That explained why there were enough rouge and powder on his face to make him look like a hanged ghost, and also why nobody was surprised at the large, bloody array on the ground.”

See how the latter translation makes it seem as if WWX were thinking that being a gay lunatic is worse than being a lunatic, and that him being a ‘gay lunatic’ explains his appearance; whereas, in the former, it appears to be more of a comment about how MXY was perceived by his family as a disgrace, and underlines that the fact he is a “lunatic” explains how ‘usual’ his appearance and the shack’s disarray were to his cousin and his lackeys.

But to address your actual point, I think saying that WWX weaponizes what society think of how a gay would act is still an oversimplification. WWX is in fact weaponizing the very specific nature of MXY’s reputation, which includes him being known to be:

a lunatic

a cutsleeve

a molester/harasser

The fact that people even suggest that this is how WWX views gay people is ludicrous to me because of the context in which it is presented in the novel. WWX is not trying to “pass” as MXY by attempting what he believes to be an authentic performance of being a gay man. WWX, from the get-go, acts in public in ways that are incompatible with what he knows of MXY. When he first gets out of the shack, he acts in ways he knows are contrary to how MXY would have acted. 

“Thinking to recover the face he’d [A-Tong] just lost, he jumped over and, like one would reprimand a dog, waved his hand and scolded, “Shoo, shoo! Go back! What did you come out for!”

Even towards a beggar or a fly, one wouldn’t be more unpleasant. These servants had very likely acted like this towards Mo Xuanyu in the past. After all, he never resisted, so they could be this unscrupulously reckless. Wei Wuxian, with a light kick, knocked A’Tong head over heels, laughing, “Now, who is it you think you’re insulting?”

Finished kicking, he followed the sound of the hubbub, walking towards the east.“ [Chapter 3 ]

Instead, WWX weaponizes MXY’s reputation (the trifecta of lunatic-cutsleeve-harasser) whenever he needs it to either 1) get the information he needs/test a theory, 2) manipulate people into certain actions 3) quickly get out of a sticky situation. Again, it is not meant to be an authentic representation of what he believes to be a gay man: it is a targeted attack with expected results. 

Let’s take for instance the East Hall Scene at Mo Mansion. WWX goes there, and slips into a lunatic persona which, from what we can infer by the Mo Family’s reaction, is not even a close performance of MXY’s “lunacy”. At this point, WWX is trying to test out if publicly humiliating the Mo Family will be enough to fulfill his part of the contract MXY forced upon him. It is the first time he brings up MXY’s being a cutsleeve, and he does so in the process of trying to cause disgrace by implying his cousin might not have had pure intentions towards him. The text makes it clear that he is only doing so to attack the Mo Family’s face, implying unspeakable designs upon MXY by his cousin. 

Unexpectedly, Wei Wuxian spoke again, “Speaking of, he not only shouldn’t have stolen my things, he really shouldn’t have gone to steal them in the middle of the night. Who doesn’t know, this son here likes men! He might not know shame, but I know not to tie my shoes in a melon patch!”

Madam Mo gasped in horror, shouting, “What are you saying in front of your village elders! How  can you have so little face; A’Yuan is your younger cousin!”

When it came to wild displays of atrocious behavior, Wei Wuxian was a master. In the past when he ran wild, he still had to mind appearances for he couldn’t let others accuse him of having no family upbringing, but now since he was a lunatic anyways, what face did he need! He could go straight to making a scene, acting on whatever pleased him. He straightened his neck and stated with righteous confidence, “He clearly knows he’s my younger cousin, and he still didn’t try to avoid arousing suspicion—exactly who has less face?! If you don’t want any, fine, but don’t spoil my innocence! I still want to find a good man!!!” [Chapter 3]

It is also important to remember MXY’s reputation as a molester/harrasser, which WWX leans into at certain points in the novel (for instance when he gets ‘caught’ trying to steal LWJ’s seal to exit the Cloud Recesses and pretends to have been spying on him bathing to try to get kicked out instead). I do not consider that WWX actually believes at face-value the accusations; like LWJ, he is wary of judging without having all the information, having himself suffered groundless accusations (and, surprise surprise, it turns out the accusations were fabricated by JGY! btw, for all the people out there who say MXTX is homophobic because she wrote a gay character who’s a molester...... i am begging you to get some reading comprehension, even store-bought is fine at this point). And if people think MXTX did not mean to emphasize the importance of that reputation, I ask them to please pay attention to what is said before WWZ implies JC is trying to flirt with him/flirts with LWJ later on in the novel (in front, as well, of many of the Juniors). Notice how we are getting the trifecta again?: 

Even after thinking it over multiple times, Jiang Cheng still couldn’t accept the fact [that Zidian had not worked]. He pointed at Wei Wuxian and scowled, “Who on Earth are you?”

Finally, a meddlesome bystander added a word to the conversation. He coughed, “Jiang-zongzhu, you might have not paid attention to these things and thus remained unaware. Mo Xuanyu was part the LanlingJin Sect’s… Ahem, he used to be a foreign disciple of the Jin Sect. But, because his spiritual powers were low and he didn’t work hard in his studies, and also had that… He harassed a peer and was thrown out of the LanlingJin Sect. I’ve also heard that he lost his marbles? In my opinion, he was probably bitter from being unable to cultivate using the correct path and ventured off onto the wrong one.”

Jiang Cheng asked, “That? What do you mean?” 

“That… As in that…” 

Someone couldn’t help but comment, “The cut-sleeve penchant!” 

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrows twitched. His eyes which stared at Wei Wuxian seemed more disgusted than before. [Chapter 9]

The text also makes it clear that WWX is drawing upon more than just “Eww gay!” when he’s weaponizing MXY’s reputation to try to get away from JC and LWJ. He’s also thinking about JC’ inferiority complex and LWJ’s (perceived) serious nature. 

“Then,” Jiang Cheng replied coldly, “why is Lan-er-gongzi going to such great lengths to protect an unimportant person such as him?”

Out of the blue, Wei Wuxian suppressed laughter could be heard.

“Jiang-zongzhu, umm, I’ll feel very troubled if you keep on bothering me like this.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrow twitched again. His instincts told him that this person would definitely not say anything pleasant next.

"Thank you for being so enthusiastic, but your thoughts are quite off. Even though I am attracted to men, I don’t like just any type of man, much less follow anyone who waves at me. I’m not interested in men like you.”

Wei Wuxian was purposely trying to disgust him. Jiang Cheng had always hated being defeated when compared with others, no matter how pointless the comparison was. If anyone said that he was not as good as someone else, he’d get angered and not think about anything else until he won against them. As expected, Jiang Cheng’s face darkened.

“Oh, really? Then, may I ask which type you’re interested in?

“Which type?” he replied, “Well, I am very much attracted to people like Hanguang-jun.” 

Lan Wangji could not tolerate this sort of frivolous and foolish joke at all. If he felt disgusted, he would definitely draw a line between them and keep his distance. Disgusting two people at once—this was killing two birds with one stone!” [Chapter 9]

I won’t go through all the examples and moments in the novel (even in forced-voluntary self-isolation it is too much to ask out of me), but I hope my point was illustrated well enough with just these! Thank you again for your ask, it forced me to finally write it all down!

[inkandpen22]

All I Want (2/4)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader 

Warnings: swearing, mild smut 

Word Count: 1.8k

Part Summary: Sirius convinces Y/N to take a little risk which leads them to trouble

Masterlist

Sirius

"I need Y/N to go with me," I complain to my friends as we settle around the table in the Great Hall. 

"Why do you need Y/N to go with you?" James questions idiotically. "You could ask Marlene, that girl from potions, what about-" 

"Y/N is the only option," I emphasize, growing annoyed that no one else understands. 

"Since when?" Remus interjects as he flips open his textbook. 

"Since she told me no!" I repeat what I told them last night. 

"Ooh, so this is all to prove a point?" James accuses with a raised brow. 

"No! I genuinely want to go with her!" I justify. 

"She's probably just giving you a hard time, playing hard to get. Give it time," James tries to reason. "Keep up with the compliments and maybe even give her a gift or something!" 

"You could just ask her publicly so she can't say no," Remus suggests uncharacteristically. 

James and I share the same confused expression. 

"What do you mean, Moony?" I frown. 

"Do it here," he clarifies. 

"In front of everyone?" Peter sounds astonished. 

"That's sort of what 'public' means..." Remus sasses. 

I shake my head. "Y/N would hate it. She hates being the center of attention." 

"But it would grab her attention," Remus points out a matter-of-factly. 

"I don't know guys..." I'm hesitant to do something so extreme when she was fine with rejecting me in front of our friends. 

"I think it would be great!" Peter gleams, enthused by the idea. 

"You also thought bringing snacks to the Shrieking Shack last month was a great idea," James reminds him disapprovingly. 

"I forgot I had the cinnamon roll in my pocket okay!" Peter huffs. 

"Hush!" I hiss at the group quietly. "Y/N is coming!" 

Glancing over my shoulder, I watch the most beautiful girl approach us, surrounded by Marlene and Evans. Her perfect Y/H/C hair and Y/E/C eyes. I've always known that Y/N is beautiful, but lately, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. It's weird, foreign to me. 

___________________________

Y/N

"And then I wrote back to my mom and told her no," I tell Lily. "So I think I'll be able to visit you this summer for sure!" 

Lily squeals, gripping my arm with excitement. "You can go on holiday with my family to the lake!" 

When we reach our usual spot with the boys already there, I take my seat beside Sirius. Lily sits on my opposite side, already in deep conversation with Marlene to make plans this summer.  

"Spending the summer with Evans?" Sirius inquires with a cheeky grin. 

"A few weeks at the start," I explain. "Her family is taking a trip and invited me." 

Sirius leans close to me and whispers, "I would pay large sums to see you spending hours laying in the sun." 

I playfully nudge him away with a giggle. Goodness, he's such a painful flirt sometimes. 

"What if after you visit Evans, you and I go on a holiday of our own?" He suggests mischievously as he turns his body toward me. 

"You and me?" I giggle as I pour myself some juice. "I think we wouldn't even make it out of London." 

"Just think about it. You, me, on a beach... We could spend weeks alone in a cottage somewhere," he describes as he leans in close. I can feel his lips brush against my ear as he guides my hair back over my shoulder. "No distractions. Days and days of us doing whatever we want for, wherever we want, as long as we want..." he insinuates. 

Chills course down my spine as Sirius glides his fingers down my back to my waist. I turn my head to the side to meet his jet-black gaze. Mere inches from one another, we stare into each other's eyes longing. Merlin, he's a vision, isn't he? Even though I see every day, it's never enough. 

His lips part as his vision falls to my mouth. "Want to get out of here?" 

I nod frantically and he's already a step ahead of me, rising from the bench. 

"We're gonna... uh... we're gonna go for a walk," he stammers as he takes my hand. 

James chuckles knowingly, "yeah sure." 

"Use protection," Remus instructs casually without even glancing up from his textbook. 

“Remus!” Lily gasps his name in disapproval. 

“A spell, Lil!” He smirks, giving Sirius and know glance. “You never know what’s poking around on these “walks” if you know what I mean...” 

“Oh dear heavens,” Lily grumbles while the remaining Marauders chuckle. 

Sirius eagerly tugs me toward the entrance of the Great Hall. I snicker as I struggle to keep up with his speed-walking. He combs his fingers through his long jet black hair with a childish grin. 

Once we make it out of the Great Hall, Sirius glances back at me and we break out into a race. Hand-in-hand, we run down the corridor, weaving between students to get to the nearest empty room. To my surprise, Sirius skids to a stop and yanks me into the closest alcove. Tucked away is a hidden stairwell by the courtyard. Sirius presses me against the stonewall and brings his lips to mine hungrily. His hands roam my body as they've done so many times before. The way he knows exactly what to do like clockwork amazes me. I want to slip into the sensation and just forget the world, yet I can't. 

"Sirius," I mumble against his lips. 

He hums, not willing to stop. 

"We should stop," I pant. 

I'm speaking these words as they're what my mind is telling me what to say, but my body is telling me to do the opposite. 

"Don't want to," Sirius wittily remarks. 

I giggle, making him smile against my lips. "But we should before anyone sees." 

He breaks away from my lips and starts at my neck. "Let them," he determines. "I don't care." 

Okay, that's hot. His ability to be so carefree and willing motivates me to be the same. Since the moment I met him, Sirius has driven me to break through my boundaries and reach for me. It isn't fair that he's so perfect. Everything about him is irresistible. 

"Don't you want to?" He whispers and the warmth of his breath brushes against my neck. 

My eyes fall shut as my fingers comb through the hair on the nape of his neck. 

"You know I do," I sigh. 

"Then why shouldn't we?" He urges mischievously. 

A can name a hundred reasons, but here the moment I can't think of any. Will it ever stop, the pining for him? He's always in my thoughts. 

"We'd be breaking the rules. If we get caught-" 

"Detection would give more time alone. More time to-" 

"Mr. Black! Ms. Y/L/N!" McGonagall's voice echoes through the corridor. 

"Fuck!" Sirius curses under his breath and parts from me swiftly. 

"I told you!" I hiss quietly. 

The sound of her heels vastly approaching makes my heart race. We're in such trouble. 

McGonagall appears in the archway leading out to the alcove. She must've seen us through the windows of the courtyard. She wears a disappointed and bewildered expression. 

"Mr. Black and Ms. Y/L/N, this not the time nor the place for your endeavors!" She puts ever so lightly. "Shouldn't you be in the Great Hall for supper?" 

"We um...We..." I stammer anxiously, at a loss for words. 

I never get in trouble. I may act rebellious here and there, broken a few rules, but I've never been caught. I've never done anything that requires discipline. 

"It was my idea, Minnie! Entirely my idea," Sirius takes the full blame. 

"Well, I sure hope so as this is entirely unlike you, Ms. Y/L/N!" She looks at me with pure disappointment and I feel the same. 

"I'm so sorry, Professor!" I apologize instantly. 

My heart is in my throat. If my parents hear about this, I'm royally screwed! One, they'll be furious that I've received detention. Two, they don't even know that Sirius and I are... well... whatever we are. 

"Detention after school tomorrow," McGonagall determines. 

"No please!" I try to plead, but McGonagall raises her hand for me to save my breath. 

"Be in my office right after your last class," she declares as she turns back down the hall. 

Sirius follows her without a moment's hesitation. "Professor please! Allow me to take all the blame," he sighs. "It isn't Y/N's fault!" 

I follow behind the pair, praying Sirius can change her mind. They're close and I know McGonagall has a soft for him. 

"Have you ever heard the phrase, 'it takes two to tango,' Mr. Black?" McGonagall wittily replies, not giving at all to Sirius's pleading. 

"I'll do both my and Y/N's detentions! Add a third even!" He requests. 

McGonagall releases a deep sigh and as she slows to a halt. I stop a few steps behind as she glances between Sirius and me. Then, she turns to address Sirius directly. 

"I respect your willingness to take the fall for Ms. Y/L/N, it's very noble of you. Yet, my mind is made up," she declares calmly. 

I hide my face in my hands with a deep sigh. This is going to be terrible. My parents are going to kill me! I've made it to seventeen without a single thing on my record and within ten minutes that achievement went down that drain. All for a hot piece of ass too, unbelievable! 

"In light of this being Ms. Y/L/N's first offense-" McGonagall announces, causing me to glance up at her, "-I will not be contacting your parents and it will not go on your record. However, you will use the detection time to think of your actions!" 

A massive height lifts from my chest and Sirius grins. I exhale deeply and approach the pair with relief. Sirius reaches for my hand and I swat it away. Now is not the time! I see a hint of amusement on McGonagall's face at my action. 

"Thank you, Professor! It'll never happen again!" I guarantee her. 

"I sure hope not!" She replies. "Keep in mind there are First Years around!" 

"Yes Ma'am," I nod. 

When Sirius doesn't respond I below him in the side, causing him to wince. 

"Right, right," he agrees absentmindedly, as he doesn't care. "Keep out of sight of children." 

McGonagall huffs, but never the less hurries along down the hall, knowing she'll never reach Sirius. 

"That's not what she meant," I hiss between my teeth quietly as we watch McGonagall walk away.  

Sirius chuckles, "I know. I just like pushing her buttons a little." 

"Well, your pushing almost got me in immense trouble!" I remind Sirius as I turn to start back to the Great Hall. 

His fingers wrap around my wrist and yank me back to him, causing me to land in his chest. I attempt to wiggle out of his hold as he slips his arm around my waist, but then he uses his free hand to grip my chin. He forces me to look him in the eyes as he chuckles. He truly doesn't care that we just got detentions. I guess it's just another notch on the stick for him, huh? 

"Don't fret Y/N, this will be fun," he voices confidently. 

"How can you be so sure?" I grumble. "It's detention." 

"What's life without a little risk?" He winks and brings leans in for a kiss. 

Sirius Black will be the death of me. 

_____________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @agirlwholovescoffee @hyperactiveravenclaw​ @fleurho @rangergranger11

[voidcat]

— take me home

Characters: Dazai Osamu/gn!reader (+agency members)

Genre & wc: fluff — 1.9k

a/n: happy Valentine’s Day!!! Normally I was gonna make this one big thing but my writing style for all this so far and “the second part” don’t carry the same vibe. (Also it was getting v long) Anyways, enjoy. I still suck at naming fics. — part 2 !!

“You could feel the bomb going off and suddenly-“ Doctor Yosano stops looking at the clock, “Oh it’s been that long already? I shouldn’t keep you waiting for any longer” she motions with her hand to you with a smile.

“It’s alright, I enjoy hearing your stories.” You smile back. “If it’s alright with you and no new cases show up, would you like the finish the story tomorrow at my place? Maybe over a cup of tea or a glass of wine?”

The glint in her eyes tell you the answer long before. “Only if the infamous pastries Ranpo cannot get enough of are there!” Yosano says with enthusiasm and all you can do is nod and share the excitement.

As she proceeds to get her coat and bag, you decide to wait until you hear someone else speak up.

“I thought you didn’t like to have people over?” Atsushi asks standing behind you with a stack of papers and files.

Eyes closed, you hum “True, true… But I make an exception for some, dear. Where did you think we baked all those for Kyouka?”

Stopping for a second to recall that day Atsushi scratches his head. The moment of realization comes to him fast, apparent from the sudden change of expression and the wide smile on his face “Oh! You’re-“

“I thought you didn’t allow anyone in the kitchen!” Ranpo exclaims rather loudly, slamming the newspaper he was reading moments ago onto his table.

Tilting back and forth from where you’re standing and occasionally looking for Yosano to come back, you turn to where his voice came from. “That rule only applies to you, I’m afraid. No matter what an amazing detective you are, cooking and baking simply aren’t your forte.” With one hand in the air as if offering the plainest of truths, you say.

“However you’re still my most trusted taster, so please don’t make that face?” You finish with an apologetic smile and hearing a low rumble coming from him, you let out a breath thinking you’re off the hook.

You thought wrong.

As Yosano’s heels clank against the surface, you can feel a persistent gaze on your back, already sensing what’s to come next. Before you can make an attempt to the door however, Dazai announces your name, in a whine no less, coming a little too closer than you expected right behind your ear.

Slowly turning back to see his smug face, right in your personal space just as you guessed, you refrain from rolling your eyes. “What was it Dazai? Is something the matter?”

Coming all the way from wherever he was previously , he couldn’t be here now for anything other than to bother you. You just hoped Yosano would show up and drag you away before your patience was tested again.

Raising his arm and resting the back of his hand against his forehead, eyes closed and mouth open, as if a he were a character straight out of a tragedia, Dazai opts for the dramatic route. “Yes! I’ve just been informed of horrifying news!”

“Which is?..” you leave the statement unfinished, already knowing what’s to come.

“That you never invited me over to your house! And we’ve been friends for the longest time! What our live have come to, have we driven so far away from ea-“

“Enough with the antics Dazai, we’re busy, can’t you see?” Your savior, Yosano cuts in putting a hand over your shoulder. Turning to look at her, you mouth a ‘thank you.’, and you think she has never looked as beautiful as she does in this moment now, with the golden sun behind her setting, the lights illuminating her face, making her look like those heroes painted to be immortalized.

As you step out, you hear Yosano stop and say: “And for the record, I’ve known them the longest.”

The day spent with Yosano goes better than you could accept. By the end your face hurts from laughing, your stomach full from all the food and drinks you’ve consumed, times flies away like a plane and by the time Yosano makes way to the door, it’s dark and you’re both dragging your feet.

Despite the enjoyable day off, Dazai’s recent behavior starts to make you question if it was worth inviting her over so publicly.

At any chance he gets, he tries to get you to give away something about your location, who has been over before and how many times, what type of hosts you prefer and ‘oh maybe we never got the chance because of our schedules, you should invite me over some time’, ‘don’t be so shy, we’re friends after all! Oh is it your place you’re ashamed of? Worry not, I won’t judge!’, ‘hey are you free on a Thursday night?’s met with ‘No, I don’t want you over.’, ‘Yes, I have a very good reasoning.’ And almost a slip up of a ‘I’m free- Oh wait, I have a date with Sergio, sorry no can do!’.

For each cheeky smile he offers, you give back a grunt or a snarl, one time almost yelling right in front of the director and another time you stomp out of the office in fury while Atsushi watches in horror.

Fifth time of your hiding in the café and you find yourself wishing for a crisis to surface, the carefree Dazai to be replaced by the serious and logical man that manages to impress you no matter how hard the case, counter measure after counter measure, even if he takes reckless risks once in a while.

Inhaling the sweet smell of your tea before taking a sip, your wish seems to have come true partially, from the set of steps approaching you in a determined yet unrushed pace.

Taking a long sip, savoring the taste and the warmth of it, you slowly place the cup down and open your eyes to see Dazai standing in his neutral and calm state.

The two of you stay like that for a while, like a photograph, the café empty and the mixed smells of coffee and tea lingering in the air, not quite looking at one another but not dozed off either.

When he opens his mouth, it doesn’t feel like the moment has been broken, not even a clearing of throat or a quite mumbling under his breath beforehand, yet his voice flows along the smells despite the absurdity of the topic of conversation.

But you beat him to it. “If you’re going to be standing for so long, you might as well sit down.”

He settles down as you reach for your cup again.

“So, how are things with Sergio?” He says the name with a hint of hostility.

It takes everything in you not to spit out your tea laughing. “Sergio is a street cat I take care of.”

Composure and crossed arms off, Dazai’s eyes widen. “But- you said that-“ “A date with Sergio, yes, for his yearly check up at the vet.” You finish for him.

“That was just an excuse to get you to stop bothering me.” You add.

“Fair enough, I deserved that.” He chuckles “but you did mention you had a very good reasoning for not inviting me over. I know I pestered you enough about that…” he trails off, reaching for your hand with his. “And yet, would you be so kind to tell me why?” he asks, eyes locked into yours.

“My cat doesn’t like you.”

And this, you think, is the exact moment the atmosphere is ruined, the photograph ripped apart in the middle.

Dazai just stares at you, still holding your hand.

Blinking few times, rather unimpressed, you notice a waitress by the counter, probably there to rearrange something.

“Alright, I’ll be off now if that’s all!” You say a bit too cheerfully, pull your hand before Dazai can do anything, pay and leave as soon as you can.

Dazai just blinks, hands still in the air, stays frozen like that until Kunikida drags him back to work.

Bad decision after bad decision seems to follow you wherever you go because after that interaction at the café, it gets worse.

You thought Dazai was like a fruit fly before? It gets more irritating than an army of them. And on top of that, Kunikida scolds you to undo whatever you’ve done on Dazai, his already poor work ethics now on the floor, getting on Kunikida’s nerves and yours.

Hearing your name spreads terror in you now, the second your ears catch the familiar tone of Dazai’s voice, you fleet for your life.

Coming clean and explaining your statement from earlier would be the logical way to end this but fate disagrees as it laughs you in the face.

“Why wouldn’t your cat like me? I didn’t even step foot into your place before!”

“Hey Dazai, remember the day you wouldn’t get off my back? Trying to embrace at any chance and I gave up in the middle of the day at one point?” Resting his hand under his chin to think, as if his face doesn’t make it obvious he remembers the day crystal clear, he lets out a “hmm…”

With a snap of fingers and a “Ah! I remember now! You were so comfortable, I almost fell asleep.” He grins.

With a shake of your hand, trying to dismiss the memory of how he basically trapped you to the couch, you cough and continue. “That evening, when I got home, my clothes must have reeked of your smell.” He nods, good, so far he seems to follow. “My cat just sniffed the air once and stayed in the living room until I washed those clothes and took a bath.”

Hands resting on his hips, he keeps nodding and humming in understanding. “I see…”

You let out a breath, thank god it’s over.

“Nope! Still makes no sense.” Hs exclaims suddenly, turns away and leaves. You just stare at his back, now it’s your turn to blink in ‘unbelievable, is this real?’

The loud chatter and pestering doesn’t stop however and with each word, it gets more ridiculous.

“Is your cat perhaps jealous of me? That you secretly love me and they don’t want competition?”

“The cat is just another excuse, isn’t it! Admit it, you have a secret! It must be something you’re afraid I won’t like.”

“Is it Chuuya? Did you take pity and let him rent a room?”

“I don’t even know a Chuuya…”

“Maybe a weird collection…” he gasps and says your name. “Are you a hoarder? Is that why you won’t let me in? I told you already, I would never judge your lifestyle!”

“Dazai, please stop-“

“No, no, I got it this time. It’s a shrine of me! Isn’t it? Your face tells it all, it is a shrine! Ah, I must say I’m flattered, if not a little scared now.”

If anger could set a fire, you think Kunikida would be arrested of arson right now. You just rest your head in your palm, trying to ignore Dazai’s ongoing nonsense.

“Is there really a-“ Kenji begins a question as Ranpo ends it with a firm “Nope!”

Getting up from your place at last, you grab Dazai by his coat and drag him out.

“There is No shrine, no other human, no hoarding or weird collections. It’s just me and my cat who scrunches his nose when I bring home a file that sat in your desk all day!”

Before giving him a chance to reply, you walk away.

The next day, and many other days to follow, goes uneventful, Dazai’s never ending bickering about your house seems to have reached a stop. Everyone, especially Kunikida, enjoys the newly achieved peace of going back to normal. You hope this marks the end of this whole nonsense, and that the Dazai everyone knows with a little mix of annoying and impressively serious has returned back to his sense of regular.

Tags: @atsumusdomain @celosiiaa @ywanfen

[foxie-paws]

Hi, (no pressure to publicly answer this if you don’t wanna block up the feed) just wanted to say that I really really appreciate you making this blog. I relate a lot to andrew and thus have the assumed amount of Stuff Goin On and morals have been a very hard thing for me to figure out as of late. Explaining what specifically was wrong about things andrew did is really helpful to my own thought process, so thank you for taking the time to go in detail about it. Having trauma is not an excuse for giving others trauma. I try my hardest to remember that.

TW: SA - PLEASE BE CAREFUL

Hello! I hope u don't mind I made it public.

I must admit I spend some time thinking about a response to this. Your comment made me decide to put sth out there. I feel pretty safe and anonymous saying this on this hell site. So here is the thing: I am a CSA survivor. It took me many years to actually understand what happened. At some point I was sure I made it up, but how could a kid made sth like this shit up? I remember that at some point my younger self knew that sth is NOT RIGHT. I tried to tell it to some I was sure would get it. Unfortunately, I could not find the right words, so I ended up saying sth that had the same meaning like "xyz has a crush on me". I got a warm laugh and a pat on the head bc "silly kid, probably watched too many disney movies". Sure af never tried again.

It's pretty funny to me how my story history is similar to Andrew's. His "I was seven" is mine "I was five" (and many other people's unfortunately). Maybe, that's why he bugged my for so long. I feel that I more or less am on the same lvl and can "see the world through his eyes" (to some point). As silly as it sounds. That's why I was actually horrified by some things he did.

I'm all for problematic characters, really. But in my opinion a good problematic character has to be pointed at and called out on their shit by the canon media (and fandom). Unfortunately, Andrew's actions, in the books and in the fandom, never really get addressed? Of course there are posts pointing some behaviors out! But mostly it's just "Well Andrew is Andrew!" Then, applying this logic, someone can say "Riko is Riko!" or "Nathan is Nathan!". Neither of those three felt any regret about their actions (yes I am aware that you cannot put = symbols between those 3 bc their actions don't have the same harm lvl) as cruel as it sounds.

It kinda hit me bc some people justified his actions by the trauma he has. And sure this certainly influenced his character, but it's not an excuse. Unfortunately, in psychology there is this phenomenon when the abused become the abusers themselves. And to some point I think it's the case with Andrew.

Morals are fluid, and they depend on what life position u are. They can get changed by the things around us. I am in no position to tell anyone what their morals should or shouldn't be. At the same time, I know that my history doesn't give me any right to inflect pain to other innocent people. Andrew as a character has many aspects. He is not only his trauma, his decisions are his doing.

My history doesn't give me any higher moral ground to judge anyone (real) in fandom — I want to make this one clear, especially knowing there are, unfortunately, more people with stories like mine. I can only speak for myself and share my opinions. I don't want anyone to feel personally attacked or feel like I'm pointing fingers.

I would never bash anyone for liking Andrew! Do it! If he brings you comfort and u relate to him — it's 100% valid.

Well that was a ride. I hope that my lengthy response didn't overwhelm anyone.

If my post helped u in any way, I'm glad! Thank u for you comment once more!

Disclaimer: I know there will be some people thinking that I made my story up or threw it out there for some brownie points, so I have only one thing to say to them — my story was not for you, you can go and fuck yourself with a broom stick!

[npdbubblygum]

Hi there, as a lot of people have seen there is a cluster fuck of a post in the npd tag about.. idek how to summarize it except glorifying empathy and villainizing personality disorders. They use narcissist, psychopath, abuser, and lots of degrading words interchangeably so be prepared for that. I won’t @ the person, partially because I don’t want to deal with the headache of them replying and partially because I don’t want to be responsible if they get harassed. They’re in the tag though publicly saying this so you could stumble upon it yourself, be careful and don’t read if it’ll hurt you! Tagged as #long post

It was so long so I decided to pick out the most relevant parts and comment on them.

People who know they have NPD don’t seem to go around calling people “unaware narcissists” as we know it’s difficult to notice and diagnose and increases stigma to do so. That’s something self proclaimed empaths do a lot though. Also, are you in this statement admitting that empaths can come across as self centred and “narcissistic” if people don’t understand what’s happening in their brain?

Personally I don’t feel any hatred for hyperempathetic people, that’s just a neutral trait some people have.

You can’t really say something is the opposite of a whole personality disorder that has several different diagnostic criteria and presents differently in different individuals. Brains aren’t black and white and antisocial PD isn’t only lack of empathy. The word for not being antisocial is prosocial what I know?

People can have compassion without empathy and people can lack compassion while having empathy, and it’s okay to not be loving as long as you aren’t harming people.

You shouldn’t passive aggressively say sorry to us in the same sentence you’re insulting us as “number out husks” and then go on to talk about how weak and cowardly we are. A lot of us had our empathy weaponized against us from such an early age that we had to turn it off to survive. If you value empathy so much, why aren’t you empathizing with that? I don’t really feel anything about it, it’s just a fact, but it’s also a fact that we shouldn’t have had to suffer through so much pain and then be blamed for how our brains developed. Also, if someone was born without empathy or had a traumatic head injury that impacted it they obviously didn’t choose that either. People who can feel a lot of empathy are also often scared of love and people without empathy can hate violence and conflict and have people they value enough to sacrifice themselves.

First of all, people in power are corrupt and become corrupt and are not the same as inventors or philosophers or any other great contributor, secondly those are exceptional people who stand out in history and didn’t have any access to therapy or self help or medication or anything else that helps mentally ill people function and cope. You can’t even go back in time and confirm who feels what level of empathy. People without empathy can also value peace, human lives, safety, etc. I constantly help caring for friends and community regardless of how little I feel about them. I don’t have to feel empathy, sympathy or compassion to do what is right, I can simply choose it, I can hate someone and devalue them and still choose to do what’s best for them.

The concept of empathy isn’t attacked we’re literally just saying we can exist without it and still be worthy human beings and people with empathy can be flawed and selfish still. We literally just want nuance and acceptance so people will have access to help.

Okay who thinks we’re actually out to destroy empathy? Maybe fascists are but come on. In the npd tag? You go into the npd tag thinking we have some kind of agenda to Destroy Empathy? People in society value empathy so much that calling someone empathetic is considered a huge compliment and calling someone unempathetic is an insult.

Fun fact! That’s how a lot of us were made! People literally broke our child-brains by using our empathy as a weapon against us and it was so overwhelming and terrible we couldn’t handle it :^) but yeah call abuse victims weak and pathetic that’s great love that for you

Also, a lot of us have really strong emotions that are incredibly overwhelming, not just a “dried up stream” lol

You talk about empaths needing a shield. Our “shield” was Not Having It.

Still unsure if you mean people with NPD or abusers or abusers with NPD but while there probably exists some people who go out with the intention to cause harm, most narcissists don’t and even most abusers work differently than that, they have a set of beliefs that they think justifies their harm it’s not really “oh how fun to destroy people” in a lot of cases. Of course it is unjustifiable though. I’ve read that abusive people seek out more empathetic people because they’re easier to convince that they can deserve it and often have qualities an abuser values, like a willingness to give more chances and staying quiet about mistreatment because they’d feel guilty or being guilt tripped easily. It’s often more about control than sadism, but sometimes it is sadism. Unempathetic people can also be abused and deserve to have resources.

Intelligence is actually not very easy to define and measure and intellectually disabled people should absolutely be included in that conversation and should absolutely not be called mindless, the mind is way more than the typical definition of intelligence. Heart doesn’t have a set definition and is even more loose than intelligence but if someone doesn’t experience the same types of emotions as me I’d still think they should be able to speak their minds about it.

Oh my god no one is denying the existence of empathy?? It is a well known concept, people study it, people who say they don’t feel it are admitting it exists because that’s what makes them different.

There are so many things to say here.. first of all are you equating npd to abuser again?

Secondly, this is a really toxic mindset. You don’t have to suffer through incredible emotional/psychological pain to be strong. You don’t have to be strong. You don’t have to “bear the burden”. If you’re in a situation that is bad for you, please do what you can to leave! You aren’t better or worse for not being able to handle the pain, you shouldn’t have to be in pain.

Thirdly, what do you think a narcissistic injury or crash is? It’s exactly that. Our sense of self and self worth crumbling when our defence mechanism doesn’t work. It’s not funny. It’s awful to go through. We do not have life on easy mode, life is a fucking nightmare, people with npd often have suicide attempts. How can you say any of this while claiming to empathize with people?

People with facial disfigurements have told me that disfigured is the word they want to be called, not deformed. Also, you shouldn’t vilify disfigurement like that, it’s not a bad thing and it’s ableist to use it to insult and to equate it with being an abusive person or having a mental illness. Also calling people monkeys is dehumanizing too. Don’t think you can get away with that.

You are actually correct about empathetic not being the real word - empathic is actually standard English. Not because -pathetic means you’re weak but because -pathic means suffering/experiencing/feeling/being moved by and -pathetic means means being able to move someone else. You’re being super fucking weird about it though.

Your pop culture references weren’t that accurate or relevant and you shouldn’t rely on made up stories to support your point when you’re talking about real psychology. So I won’t include them. I saw some other people already told you they were wrong.

Hopefully no one agrees with any of the shit you wrote it was a pain to make this post but it was eating at me when I tried to leave it alone so here you have it

[aesthbaby]

Her Secret

Summary: We’re all aware of Emily’s untold secrets that she took to the grave with her but what about Lauren? The one thing both woman have in common is you, and the memories they took with them in both of their deaths

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x Reader

Prompt/request: None, just an idea I’ve had in my head for a while.

Warnings: Cursing | Death

Wordcount: Almost 4k

Master List

AN: Time line might be a little spotty because the show did not give many details but I promise its still comprehensible.

Its beautiful for a sad event. The white flowers are such a stark contrast to her personality. The color reminds you of a time before, before they knew her and before all of this happened. One of your eyes feels kind of funny so you reach for it, pulling back to examine the small drop of water on your finger. You compose yourself and push the large, black, sunglasses up your nose. Maybe you shouldn’t be here. You were dressed in all black with a black umbrella. Despite it being a sad day, it was unnecessarily sunny.

You spot her team making their way down the walk way. Three men carrying the dark coffin with one Caned man in the front and the women in tow. You take a step back into the shadows as they near the podium. As the service progresses the amount of speeches and tears are--overwhelming. Images of Emily, once known to you as Lauren, flash across your mind as you hold back any and all emotions associated with this event. 

You knew she wasn't really "dead," she couldn’t be. Emily Prentiss is invincible and would never go like that. You saw the woman known as "JJ" glances your way but she says nothing about it. Probably assuming you were another one of Emily's secrets taken to the grave.

Emily’s not dead. Emily wouldn’t die like that. 

You kept repeating it in your head.

Italy - 2004

The violets surround the mansion like a protective field. Their peaceful existence mocking your volunteer imprisonment. You only took this job because you and this other agent were the only ones who spoke fluent Italian. She was supposed to take it and you were the understudy or whatever but then she got knocked up so here you are. Being mocked by fucking flowers. Your thoughts are interrupted by Doyle approaching you with his brunette arm dealer on his arm. You turn away from the balcony upon his approach.

“Lauren deve restare qui mentre scappo. Per favore, tienila d'occhio.” Lauren has to stay here while I run out. Please keep an eye on her.  He’s always been so bossy, and for what? To make himself seem more powerful than he actually is? We’re all aware of the danger working for him provides.

“Si signore.” Yes sir. You turn to acknowledge the woman in front of you but she speaks first.

“Perché? Non posso venire con te?” Why is that? Can't I come with you? She whines.

He gives her a look and she backs down. The Captain heads out with his guards behind him, leaving you alone with his lover.

You’re not sure what to do with her. Is this a form of  babysitting?

She clears her throat. “I know.”

Hearing her speak English was a surprise but it makes sense, there was always something different about her. You arch an eyebrow and reply, “Sai...che cosa?” You know....what?

She holds up a finger for you to give her a moment. She turns around and sticks her head out the door; then closes and locks it. “You’re not really from Tirana, are you?” Who is this woman? You maintain a neutral face while she continues. “The fact that you never eat with us was a dead give away. You’re always held up in this room.” She gestures to the large room filled with files, records, and books. “Like you’re trying to avoid something. I’d also like to point out how you rarely present any Albanian customs.” Where are you going with this Reynolds... “At first I thought, ‘Maybe they’re one of Doyle’s assassins that I’m not supposed to know about.’ But then I started paying attention and realized you’re nothing like that.” You let out a sharp breath. “Its okay.” She takes one of your hands. “I won’t tell Ian. There’s already enough death in his life and I wouldn’t want to see you be one of his next victims.”

You’re stuck in the moment and words are hard to form. All of your training is slipping through your fingers. For all you know she could be bluffing, trying to get you killed. You go with your safest option because you don’t know this woman at all. You pull your hand from her and take a step closer. Peering into her eyes for any sign of fear and when you find none, you proceed. Leaning in as close as possible to her. “Non farei acquisizioni così pericolose se fossi in te.” I wouldn't make such dangerous acquisitions if I were you. You whisper. You could never be sure if your suspicions were correct but this, this was all the confirmation you needed. What’s that old saying? Takes one to know one. “Agente.” Finishing off that last word you brush past her.

Virginia - present

 Being back in The States with Doyle still running around is unnecessarily risking. Emily’s defeat is the only reason you’ve come back. To watch her team grieve over the coffin is saddening but having to hide is the shadows is unfair. Am I not allowed to publicly grieve? Are my tears not worthy? The grip on your umbrella tightens. She’s not dead. Emily doesn’t loose. Emotions are running high and the speeches are getting long. Last time you talked, she claimed to be alone. No family and no fiends but clearly she was wrong. What you’d give to be laying under a plum tree on a wool woven blanket with her head in your lap. Eating pastries you raided from the kitchen and telling the Captain that you needed her to help analyze costs. What a fool.

You were so entranced with the memory that you didn’t notice when the pale, dark haired agent approached you. Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief if I’m not mistaken. “Agent.” He acknowledges.

“Sir?” You mumble.

“Your profession was easy enough to guess, though I’m not sure of your name.” Those knitted brown sweaters and golden, dainty necklaces. The short chestnut hair with soft curls that smelled of honey shampoo. The way she’d nudge your foot during dinner while casting discreet glances. Its all gone. “Agent?” He calls again. “Are you alright?”

Before you say anything you make sure your voice is clear. “Tell me Agent Hotchner, did she suffer?” That question didn’t need to be answered but you just had to know. A favor was called in on your behalf by Lieutenant Parks, he gave very few details about her death but you’ll take that over nothing at all. This was the one question you didn’t have an answer for. With nothing but silence from the man, you have your answer.

Reaching for your pocket there’s a small clear box; inside of the plastic is a handful of pressed violets. Without looking you hold the slim box out to him. “Please, make sure she gets them.” After he takes them you make one last note of the sight in front of you. All of her friends, family, and coworkers gathered in one place with Emily’s grave as the centerpiece. You turn to finally face the man, tilting your shades so he can see a bit of your eyes. “Dead or alive.” And then disappearing in to the back of the cemetary.

Italy - Spring of 04′

Two months ago you were staring off of Doyle’s Spanish-styled balcony thinking, “What would happen if I called it quits?” You had enough evidence and entail for him to never see freedom again. So what was stopping you?

Her. She was making you second guess.

After having her call you out for being a spy, you were very careful about what you did and said around her. Its not like she had any definitive proof but at the same time neither did you. What you said that day was a total bluff. Its a miracle you’re still alive. You were left with only two conclusions: one was that she herself is a spy, or two, she’s one of the smartest people Ian has ever brought home.

Then came a day where the boys went out to wherever and it was just you, her, and the maids. Most of them are Russian and speak poor Italian so they usually keep to themselves. You’re at the dining room table pretending to run numbers since that’s literally your job- well that and vetting backgrounds of sellers and buyers. Essentially a secretary with dangerous patrons. The position is mind numbingly boring but it does allow you to remain invisible while observing the operation. Think about it, who’s going to notice the secretary while discussing millions? They’re idiots. They allow you to sit in on every single meeting because you’re just the person who runs numbers. A debatable perk to this job is the amount of free time you posses. Usually its spent digging around the operation, sending information back to HQ, or actually enjoying small aspects of the city. That brings you to right now where you’re doodling random shapes on the bottom corner of the paper.

Lauren is on the couch wearing a button up satin dress, quite short for Ian’s taste so you’re surprised to see her wearing it. She’s read something you’ve never heard of, not that it matters. With no idea why she’s in here with you, you retreat back into your own mind.

“The maids have left.” You suddenly hear beside you, nearly jumping out of your skin.

“You scared me!” At the realization of your chosen language you gasp and watch as Lauren smiles widely. You shoot to your feet repeating no over and over. Actively trying to take back your words while she looks rather amused.

“I knew it!” She points at you all accusingly and shit. You keep shaking your head no and trying to get her to be quiet. “I was right about you!” And here’s the perfect time to have a maid to walk in. Lauren says something to her but you’re too wrapped up in your head to translate. All your years of training, expierence, undercover work has just been thrown away over your stupid mistake.

They’re going to kill me. They’re going to have my head on a stake in the middle of the garden for the world to see- or worse! I’ll be tortured for my crimes by one of Doyle’s men.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the brunette waving her hand in front of your face. “Don’t worry,” She say softly as you notice the house keeper is no longer with you. “I told her they could take a break...” At your confused face she continues. “So now we can talk.”

Virginia - present

To say you had no idea where you were going, was an understatement.

You hadn’t been to Virginia in years so everything felt unfamiliar. You took quick peaks at your surroundings as the rented porshe pushed through the traffic. Everything hurt, not the traditional pain you experience over a broken toe but the emotional kind that coursed through your entire body.

Is this what a broken heart feels like?

You kept telling yourself she wasn’t dead; couldn’t be. Not your Emily, the woman you know is a fighter. She’s fucking invincible and would never let herself die at the hand of that monster. If she was really dead, wouldn’t you feel it? Wouldn’t you feel your connection to her sever?

At the reorganization of the build ahead of you, you pull the car into the left lane.

Italy - Spring of 04′

She is so fucking clingy. Always starring at me when no one is watching and going on less missions with Doyle. Speaking of him, the man likes to take her everywhere; calls her “Ho il mio portafortuna” his good luck charm. She usual goes out with him whenever he’s traveling but lately she’s been making little excuses on why she wants to stay for the day. Instead of spending the day recuperating from a headache (like she’s told him) she’ll bother you.

That accent and the way she pronounces her R’s makes you wanna melt, but then she starts asking you a million and one questions. What’s your favorite food? When’s your birthday? Have you ever broken a bone? Do you enjoy reading? Its always something with her. I think she’s trying to annoy me. So far you’ve been answering her questions in Italian to insure that you don’t fuck up again.

Doyle is none the wiser, he still sees you as a secretary and her as arm candy.

But you must admit that Lauren is growing on you. She hasn’t said anything in English to you lately or exposed you to Doyle. You’re rarely ever alone but when you are, she gives you one of her finished books and sits in the room quietly. Its comforting. Today she’s given you Niccolo Ammaniti with a note scribbled in pencil on the 5th page, “Hang in there.” Smart woman, writing it in light pencil so I can easily erase it without leaving a trace...also paranoid woman but rightfully so.

Virginia - present

You adjust your shoe so as not to slip before going into the building and suck the shades into your pocket. The giant letters, I. O. D. S. stare back at you in Ariel font.

Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. Just accept her death and move on.

Inside of Investigations of Death Services you nod to the secretary, an ex of yours, and continue on to your destination. While in the elevatored your vision feels blurry but now isn’t the time for tears. Arriving at your floor, you spot his office and walk in without so much as a knock or invitation.

“One second,” he speaks into the phone. “Can I help you?” His dark eyes look angry, like he doesn’t recognize you. You take a step forward, offering your closed palm to him. “What? What is this? A fucking magic trick?” You slowly open your palm towards him, revealing the silver clover pin. The suited man looks like he’s just seen a ghost. “Shane, I’ll have to call you back.” He hangs up the phone, then reaches from you hand. “Where did you get this?”

Snatching you hand back and putting the silver back in your pocket. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”

He narrows his eyes on you before answering. “Can’t say I do.”

“Back in 03′ you knocked up Carin and proposed I go on assignment. Granted I was the only person who was fluent in Italian--or so I thought. Come to find out there were five other agents who could’ve been assigned there. You chose me because I was up for your job.” Your anger is boiling over quickly. “You were a shitty employee and they were ready to fire you.” You take a daring step forward. “Until you proposed infiltrating Valhalla with one of the foreign operative agents. You told them there were only two fluent agents. Back then we had never met but I knew who you were, Hell, we all knew how much of a screw up you were. Guess you don’t recognize me anymore? I mean in your defense its been years and I’ve lost a few pounds due to the stress you caused me but that’s for another day. How about we go back to 2003.” For a man with toxic masculinity issues, he looks pretty scared. “You couldn’t just out right suggest me so you have to offer up someone else. Coincidently Carin got pregnant right around the time she was starting her training, by you I might add, and could no longer go.” A wide smile starts to grow on your face. “Bet you were counting on my death, huh?” Awe poor baby seems to be shaking. “No...you’re too much of a pussy for that. I bet you were hoping I’d go to Italy and screw things up for the whole operation.” Now you’re toe-to-toe with him. “Mess up so bad that they’d have pull me out and demote me. Or! Reveal myself and hope Doyle’s men killed me or I’d go sprinting home with my tail between my legs.” His silence is starting to irritate you. “So which is it, Mark? Hmm? Cat got your tongue?”

“I’m sorry!” He yells with a reddened face. Out of the corner of your eye you see his co-works looking through his glass walls but you couldn’t care less. “I’m sorry, y/n. What do you want from me? I’ll do anything!” Now we’re getting somewhere.

You push the pin into his face “Where is she, Mark?”

“Where is who?” He’s still fucking shaking.

“Asking me another stupid question and there will be hell to pay.” You’re not really going to hurt him but considering the circumstances, this is justified. The man put your life on the line over some stupid position, a bit of threatening wouldn’t hurt.

“Okay okay. All I know is that after you left she was taken by ALPHA and later faked her death. When Lauren Reynolds died, Emily Prentiss got to go home and Ian Doyle went to a North Korean prison.”

“And now...”

“Last I heard she was working for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI but was recently killed under suspicious circumstances.” At your expression, he continues. “We know she died during a scuffle with Doyle and there was a funeral but we are yet to have a death certificate on record. Sometimes it take anywhere from a week to a month for us to receive proper records on agent deaths. I thought that-”

“Stop, talking.” You cut him off through gritted teath.

Italy - Autumn 04′

“What is your problem, Lauren?” You’re out on the patio in front of the pool on a warm day. Lauren has a four course meal on the table, courtesy of the chefs.

“Nothing...” She shrugs with a mouthful of strawberry.

“You want me to leave.”

Another fucking shrug.  

“Be serious.” You’re trying to stop yourself from stomping your foot.

She puts down her food and clasps her hands together. “Yes I want you to leave.” You watch as she gets up and smooths her skirt; taking your hands in hers. “Your time is thinning and you’ve been her a lot longer than me.”

“And leave you here alone? No way, I know you’re invincible but even Superman had his down fall.”

“Superman?” She loops you in closer. “Why not superwoman? Awfully sexist of you.”

“Oh, shut up.” You nudge her back a bit. “But wouldn’t you miss me?”

She gives you one of her wide smiles. “Let me show how much I’d miss you.” She leans in for a light kiss against your lips.  You pull away quickly so as not to be seen. El, like the letter, picked out a blind spot that’s covered partially in shadows. “I have to leave in 15 minutes but until then...” She trails with a very telling expression.

“Where?” You laugh. “Not in the second floor bathroom again because that was...tight.”

Her perfectly plucked eyebrow arches upward,  “And you were loud!”

You hop past her to sneak a grape. “Hey! You do know that was mine, right?”

“What are you going to do about it, Superwoman?” You turn to grab another grape, while doing so you feel her presence behind you. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, L.”

“Oh why not?” She lightly trails down your backside. “It’ll be so much fun.”

You turn back to her. “Ten minutes?”

“In the library?” She smirks and you nod along.

Virginia - present

This four hundred dollar airplane ticket is going to serve its purpose but paying it back is going to suck. Your government salary was nice and all but $400 is still a lot.

Just two days before, you rushed around you place to pack all of the essentials for a quick flight to Paris; charger, hygiene, two outfits, and the pin all tucked into a stylish backpack.

That brings us here, standing in the streets of downtown Paris alongside the buzzing mopeds weaving through the streets. In front of you is the little café Elle would go on and on about, naturally this is the first place you could think to look.

You didn’t even know what you were looking for. The woman you fell for was a brunette with light curls and bangs.

You were looking for Emily. The woman Lauren introduced you to. The woman you grew to love in the same way you love Lauren, but Lauren is dead. Has been for awhile, now its time to find Emily. Your Emily.

You find nothing, no one who even slightly revels Emily on your first day there. So you find a hostel to lay your head in and continue on the next day. Again and again with the same routine for five days straight.

You wasted all of your time here for what? A memory? A dream? Two woman who no longer exist on the same astral plane as you?

That’s when you see it, a head of dark brown hair a few tables ahead of where you’re standing. With all hope lost you almost think its a mirage. 

You sit a few tables ahead of her, careful to keep your face hidden. When the waiter comes around to take your order you give him very specific instructions.

Emily’s POV

Being a dead woman is lonely and isolating...at least the coffee is good. The waiter who dropped off the hot beverage not too long ago has circled back with a cheese croissant in hand. That’s odd, I hate cheese croissants. “Cette personne là-bas m'a demandé de te livrer ça.” That person over there has asked me to deliver this to you. He points over his shoulder to a person who’s face I can’t quite make out. “Ils m'ont également demandé de vous donner ceci.” They also asked me to give this to you. He reaches from his front pocket and softly places a silver clover pin that I haven’t seen in years, and a pressed Violet. I can feel the air drain out of my lungs at the objects in front of me. “Merci beaucoup.” The only person who knows what these objects mean are Doyle and-

At the sense of being watched my head shoots up at the source. At first there’s nothing there but then I spot the familiar figure. Its been weeks since I’ve actually seen them, it can’t be. I must be seeing things. Closing my eyes and taking in a deep breathe, I open them to see that they’re gone.

“Boo.” I hear in my right ear; looking up to see y/n standing beside me with a bright smile.

“You scared me!” Realizing how loud I am, I take a breath.

“Miss me Elle?” I left you behind, twice. I died twice without letting you know. You’ve had to start over too many times and its not far.

“Y/n, how did you find me?”

“Really, Elle. Did you really think I’d fall for that party trick you pulled at the BAU? I’m not dull, and besides,” Y/n/n gently puts their hand over mine on the coffee mug. “You’re my Superwoman, you’ll never die.”

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟ･*:.

@beyondprincess @confused-and-really-hungry @millipop18 @supercorp8388 @groovygoob  @emilyprentisswife@covetedcoven @justaghostmonument @rabid-wild-misfits @nomit16 @afuckingshituniverse @mys2425  @fanfictionfangirl04  @aaron-hotchner187 @lisztomaniacalice @thestrawberrygirl  @miidguardian-exe @criminalmindsmoodrn @ssacandice-ray @davidrossiismydad @garcias-batcave @ssaemxlyprentxss @andreaxxg13 @emilyprentissistoocute @mortallythoughtfulgurl @iamyouknow-yours @aesthbaby​

[palbabor-writes]

Moniker

Hawks Week 2020 - Prompt: Rebirth

Character: Keigo Takami - Hawks

Warnings: Angst, some adult language, the drama of growing up

Word Count: 5433

“They need you to pick a name, Keigo. You’re old enough now and the data has shown that you’re learning how to control your quirk. The advancements we’ve seen in the last few months have been outstanding. The HPSC wants you to start making a name for yourself, publicly. We’re hoping, in six or so years, you’ll be operating on a professional level. 

So, look over those names and pick one. Once you do, you’ll no longer go by Keigo Takami. No, that name will be expunged from the records.”

Why? He’d wanted to ask. Why can’t he keep his name? Does it really matter? What were they going to do with him? Why was he even in this program? 

There were so many questions racing through his mind. But, he just nodded and looked out the window. What good did it do to ask? They weren’t going to tell him anything. This was all just another manipulation. They always tried, so, so hard to let him feel like he had a say in his name, in his life, in anything. 

In reality, he was just their little puppet, floating along on a tight string.

Notes: Part of Hawks Week 2020, Day 7 - Prompt: Rebirth.

This fic, like my Shigaraki exploration, Phantasma is part of a smaller series I’m calling Hopscotch. There’s a ton of kids in the BNHA universe that just need a freaking hug, man. But, all this trauma does give me some nice topics to write about...Not beta edited, so all mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

Moniker mon·i·ker /ˈmänəkər/ noun a name.

Keigo Takami is a ward of the Hero Public Safety Commission. 

He’s been a ward for most of his life. He’s used to the routine: the daily drills, the daily training, the daily lessons, the daily lectures, the daily monotony of it all. 

He’s never alone. 

There’s always a few of them hovering. They, being the agents who are assigned to his daily care and maintenance. They’re like black spots, bleeding out against the clean, crisp linoleum floors. He’s shuttled around like a chess piece. As if he needs a shadow to guide him. He knows this building inside and out. He knows just where to perch if he wants to avoid the cameras and he knows the secrets of at least five or six of his handlers. 

They blurt stuff out around him. People never think kids are listening. Too bad for them, cuz, he’s got enough dirt to take them straight to the top if he wanted to. Not that he wants to. Some of the handlers are nice, but Keigo has learned that sometimes nice is another way to say: manipulative.

So, he imagines that he can flex a little control over them, too. He’s got the information, he’s just not sure who to take it to. He’s never seen the head of the HPSC. They remain an enigma. The leader of this whole thing is the one piece he hasn’t slipped onto the puzzle. No, whoever they are, they’re mysterious. He only knows they exist because he’s seen their hen scratch of a signature on his progress reports and monthly, “how are you doing Keigo,” emails. 

Despite the mystery, the head of the HPSC is the one constant in his life. He can’t say the same of his handlers. Most of the people who surround him shift and change. They’re like a tide.

When he was younger, his father used to take him down to the beach. Keigo was always fascinated by the pull, the drag, of that dark blue water.

Yeah, these handlers of his moved in and out like a tide. Every month it was someone else. One or two might be familiar faces, but they never told him their names. Well, not their real names at least. No, no one ever revealed those. Keigo was accustomed to the secrecy of it all. It was kinda boring. 

But, most days were. 

It was just him and the various adults who were tasked with his lessons or training schedules. It was a never ending circle, a rotation of sameness that made his teeth ache. There were no other kids at the base. No, lucky him, he was the only one selected to receive this special training.

When he was smaller he’d been a little more excited. He’d wander behind the dark suits, clutching his Endeavor figure to his chest, his eyes scanning every room, every person, every crevice. 

You can never be too careful Kei, his father had told him, his golden eyes winking down at him. Always keep your eyes and ears open. 

“It’s a special program, Keigo. Starting today, you need to say goodbye to your name. You’re going to become a very special hero, okay?” 

It was a younger man who had talked with him that afternoon. He can remember looking down at his toy, the plastic heavy, sticking to his clenched arms. Keigo can recall his small voice asking the man two questions: “Can I be like him? Can I be a hero who beats the bad guys?”

At the time, they had felt so, well, important to him. They were all encompassing, vital queries that needed to know the answer to back then. He disliked them now. They were stupid questions. Besides, what self respecting adult takes the word of a six year old seriously? 

He’s eleven now. He’s way past those childish dreams. And, they still hadn’t taken his name from him. Oh, they hinted at it. He’d even caught sight of one of the lists. 

The lists were the long rows and rows of potential hero names for Keigo. Not that he was asked much about any of this. His opinion didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. He’d only managed to see one of the lists a few years ago. His handler hadn’t been expecting him back so fast. 

He wasn’t supposed to use his wings unless he was in the training facility. Little did they know, he’d been practicing. How could he not? He could feel each and every tiny thing with his feathers. It drove him insane. If he was drifting off to sleep he would feel the electricity humming through the walls. When he focused hard enough he could hear the distant conversations happening on the floors above him. 

It was an endless march of noise, emotion, and sensations. He felt like he was overstimulated all the time, his skin too heavy for his bones. He wanted to scream some days: get these off me, I can’t, I-I can’t take it. But, he had to learn how to grapple with his quirk. It was part of him. 

Still, sometimes he wished he was someone, anyone else. 

‘Turn it off’, they said, ‘dampen the urge to reach out with your feathers’. 

Yeah, right. Let them slip into his quirk, see how much they liked the all consuming sensation of it all. It was too much, too intense. Some days it’s a fight to make himself get out of his bed. Everything is just...too close, sometimes. 

He’s just a kid, he wanted to tell them. Like that would grant him a reprieve. No, he already knew what answer they would give him. The HPSC had selected you for a purpose, a reason, Keigo. 

They fed him such vague, well, bullshit. Yeah, he knows he shouldn’t say words like that, whatever. They shouldn’t be doing this, er, whatever it was that they were hoping to achieve with him. But, it’s not like the confirmed acknowledgement of their preposterousness would stop them. No, he’d learned to keep his mouth shut and his eyes open. It was the best way to survive the endless march of days and weeks. He would nod, practice, and then practice a little more in secret. 

It’s his quirk after all. If he could perfect it, maybe they would loosen his leash.  

His wings were still a little stunted. They could grow to longer points, but it took a lot of time and a lot of concentration. It was like his body knew exactly what he could, or could not, in this case, handle. More feathers meant more sensations. More sensations meant less sleep, less control, and, worst of all, less autonomy. There would be more tests, more training, more, more, more. 

Still, he worked at it. It was a double edged sword. He both hated, and loved, the improvements he saw within himself. 

Despite his impeded wing growth, Keigo could flap himself along now. He could even hover in the air for a little while, but his back would protest the strain after forty minutes or so. It hurt to hold himself up. His shoulders just weren't broad enough to maintain his weight. He’d been hoping that eating a little more would help. You know, beef him up a little. 

He’d brought the subject up with one of his handlers, one of the ones he actually knew. The man had nodded, his curly blonde hair bobbing around his ears. And, with that, his food rations were extended. He was also given some other choices too. Some steak, veal, higher protein foods. He’d stubbornly stuck with chicken. He liked the taste. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Keigo took advantage of the larger portions and he gorged himself on the succulent meat. 

Four weeks later, he hadn’t grown much. Maybe what, half a pound? Nah, most of that energy must have been consumed by his quirk. But, the more he ate, the easier it was to focus on it. Meh, still a win, win. At least from the HPSC’s viewpoint. 

He mentioned that there are never any kids around the HPSC training facility, right? 

Adults? You couldn’t swing a dead cat and not hit at least 4 or 5 of them, at any given moment. Keigo didn’t mind. He was used to adults. By nature he was quiet, observant. It was his habit to position himself in the corners of rooms. It let him see anyone and everyone who entered or left. He likes watching. But, he’s done that his whole life. Even before the HPSC picked him up he’d learned how to hone that skill. 

Now, the trainers and handlers were trying to break him of that tic. 

‘You need to curb that Keigo’, they’d say. ‘If you’re going to become a successful hero you can’t just sit in the shadows. We already have plenty of agents who are trained for that. No, you need to be more gregarious. Speak up, talk with people. You’ve been drilled in this skill, now show us what you’ve learned. We want you to be a hero’.

So, he myna birds what they ask. They’ll leave him alone that way. Sure, sure, he’s rewarded with gifts, with praise, with extra free time. But, it’s all so calculated. He can smell their intentions a mile away. He’s seen the books some of them read. They were books with titles like: The Psychology of the Child, The Developing Mind, Playing and Reality. 

If that wasn’t obvious enough, he’d heard some of the conversations they passed as they handed off their shifts, the words lilting back and forth, like secret notes. 

“Ignore his minor tactics. It’s just him responding to the attention. Only praise him when he’s behaving.” Or, “Give Keigo labeled praise. You know, build his self esteem. He’s so quiet, it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. Pack a snack for him. That way when he opens up to you, boom! Treat in hand.”

Do they not realize how much he can hear? God, adults are dumb. Smile and give them what they want, or, say what they most need to hear and they’re eating out of your hand. Meanwhile, as they’re congratulating themselves on a job well done, they had no idea what thoughts were racing behind his golden irises. 

No, Keigo is motivated by other things. One motivation trumps all the others: he wants to get outta this place. Just for a day, heck, he’d take an hour. Keigo is tired of the same walkway, the same lunch hall, the same dreary views of the city. 

It’s springtime in Japan and Keigo can make his feathers molt. It’s a newer skill, one he’s withholding from his handlers for the time being. Maybe if he feigns a cough, he can pretend to be sick? He’s gotten pretty good at acting now. That was another one of his classes. It was like a, how to deceive someone 101. Actually, it was prolly called something like ‘Espionage for Tots’. 

It was fun. He liked the smiles and serious faces he was asked to make. They should have slapped a big: “please, Keigo, don’t use these skills to deceive us” disclaimer on the door. He liked the guy that taught it, too. He was a short, unassuming man, but he would genuinely grin at Keigo each time he walked through the door for his session. Oh, wait. Was that just an act? He’d have to ask him. Boy, he’s good if it was. He needs to shore up his own skills…

He could always pretend that an imaginary sick day was part of the lesson. Look! My poor feathers, they’re molting, how sad. Also, cough, cough, I feel ill. No, ill is a bad choice of words. Ahem, I mean, I don’t feel so good. Can I lay down? Maybe prop open my window, for the fresh air. Oh no! I accidentally swooped out. Cough, cough.  

Keigo isn’t even sure what he’d do with himself if he could manage to sneak out. It’s not like he’s not noticeable. He’s sporting at least 7 feet of ruby red plumage now. Well, if he’s gonna plan an escape, he might as well do it-

“Keigo,” it’s a sharp voice, and it startles him out of his musings. It belongs to one of the head handlers. Kaori? Yeah, that’s her name. Eh, the one she’d given him at least. She’s nice enough, a little rough around the edges at times, but she’s fair. Maybe, oh, maybe he can ask her about-

“Are you listening, Keigo? We need to go. The provost was expecting us over an hour ago. Where have you been? Mai couldn’t find you so she asked me to look for you.”

“I was up there.” Keigo points, his chin lifting to follow his movement, wings fluttering against his back. Despite her tone, Kaori doesn’t seem too upset. Her heartbeat is normal. But, that didn’t mean much around here.

“Up there?” Kaori’s tone is faint and a little awed. She turns her violet gaze to his, pursing her lips into a thin line. “Since when?”

“It’s been, ah, three months and sixteen days since I first made it to that perch. They didn’t like that I went so far. Eiichi said he was going to document it though. I mean, it ain’t too far. Guess I can go for a lower spot next time. I just like that I can see more up there, it makes it-”

“No, no. It’s fine Keigo. Don’t say “ain’t,” it’s slang. I suppose it has been awhile since I’ve seen you. How old are you now? Ten?”

“Eleven,” Keigo replies, his back straightening, wings arching beside his head.

“Mmm, eleven. Gosh, you’re growing up fast,” Kaori’s reply is sharp, practiced. Keigo rolls his eyes. She wanted to spark a reaction out of him. See if he’ll puff up with joy or grow sullen with her mistake of thinking he’s younger than he is. It’s easier to assign him extra training than really deal with him. At least, that’s what some of his handlers seemed to think. 

“Have you seen the news?” Kaori asks, violet eyes resting on his amber ones. “There’s a mission coming up. Endeavor’s agency is taking it on.”

Keigo feels his wings lifting again, but he quickly suppresses the motion, his shoulders hunching forward. He never, ever, wanted to seem too eager. Not when they’d primed him for such an obvious tell. It’s not like they didn’t know what heroes he admired. 

Yeah, Keigo had seen the news. He was permitted two hours of television each day. Most blocks were taken up with watching the latest developments. Sometimes he would shift the channel to a cartoon, but the television time would be lessened if he watched nonsense for too long. No, the tv was for educational purposes only, not for leisure or fun. He’d heard that line enough to have it memorized. 

“What about it?” Keigo asks, falling into step with Kaori. She’s taking the long way back to his next lesson. Clearly, she’s wanting to glean something from him. 

“Well, I was thinking it might be beneficial for you to observe the mission.”

“What, like on CCTV or something?”

“No. In person. We would need to fit into the crowd, but this mission has been widely publicized, it’s a miracle the villain’s haven’t heard about it.”

“That, or they want the fight.”

Kaori laughs. “Very good, excellent observation. You’ve improved Keigo. Consider this a set date. I will personally escort you to the mission viewing point. At the end of the exercise, I would like to hear your opinion on the matter.”

Keigo bites his tongue. 

It’s too slick again, too obvious. The mission Kaori mentioned fits the profile of a raid, not the everyday, run of the mill, villain sting. Endeavor’s agency had been squaring up with the lower level fighting rings for months now. This was just another day for him. The number two hero promised to clean up crime and he was following through with that assertion. 

So, why take him to see it now? Why did it matter if Keigo saw it in person? The data and video would be uploaded the next day to the HPSC database, he could just watch it and take notes then. 

Why is she doing this?

Keigo chances a glance at her face. She’s pale, stern and stoic above him. Her heels click on the tiles and her back is ramrod straight. A few feathers bristle, feeling, listening, nah, her pulse is steady too. It’s hopeless. Maybe this is the challenge? Something to test him, to try and see if he can get a read on the unreadable?

“What’s the point of me going? What good does it do? My data sheets haven’t slipped enough to call for anything like this.”

“Don’t be so critical of everything Keigo,” Kaori scolds him, her purple eyes lingering on his spreading plumage. “It’s not a test, it’s not a drill. I just...I can remember what it was like to be a teenager and be trapped doing something I didn’t want to do.”

Again, Keigo is silent after her declaration. He’s not really sure how to answer. Pragmatic, logical, even angry responses, he’s used to those. This? What is this? Some kinda misplaced empathy? He never would have placed an empathetic bone in Kaori’s body before today. 

They pause at the provost’s doorway and Kaori places an arm on his shoulder, demanding his attention with her strong grip. 

“Let me know by tomorrow.” 

And, with that, she’s gone, pacing down the long hallway, her heels tapping a sharp tattoo against the flooring. Keigo narrows his eyes, avian pupils dilating, focusing. Sure, maybe it was just an opportunity, a chance for him to get out of the headquarters for a while, but there’s always a catch. 

******

The email comes a few hours later. 

Keigo is sprawled across his bed, his wings tucked safely along his shoulders as he flips through his textbook. He lifts his head from his pillow and sighs heavily at the familiar chime from his computer. It’s either more geometry problems or it’ll have something to do with what Kaori was discussing: The Endeavor mission.

His wings shift and rustle as he stands. He’s agitated, on edge. He dislikes being maneuvered into a corner. No matter what the email is over, he’ll feel obligated to say yes. Even if it’s by default. 

Keigo steps up to his computer, his long fingers racing over the keypad, typing in his encrypted password. As he waits for the screen to load, his eyes fall to the battered figurine beside his monitor. 

It’s the Endeavor toy. He’s kept it all these years, safe and sound, in each bedroom he’s moved to. The flames are dull and his bright blue uniform is more mottled than cobalt, but it’s still a tiny piece of his other life. 

His father had given it to him. It was years ago. He hadn’t thought he was going to get anything for his birthday, but then, his father had flown in, his own plumage glimmering against the dying sunlight and presented four year old Keigo with the toy. He had clutched it to him, his eyes shining and bright. 

“Dad! Ah, how did you know?” 

His father had beamed at him, his eyes softening at the sight of his son’s genuine smile. Keigo didn’t smile a lot back then. Their life was too tumultuous, too chaotic. There was too much at stake. His father had gathered him up and pressed the button that activated the toy’s internal voice box. Keigo had squealed with delight and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. 

Now, Keigo traces a single finger along the top of the Endeavor’s head, running along the dimmed flames. He’s seen a decent amount of coverage on the number two hero lately. He’d even gone as far as studying his moves. Not that it mattered. His quirk would never be a match for the flame heroes skills. But, he had to admire the guy. 

He was constantly overshadowed, outranked and outclassed by All Might. Still, Endeavor pushed forward. He’s the only one who really tried to overtake the number one hero. It was both impressive and, well, kinda pathetic, desperate even. All the same, Keigo kept hunting for news of the number two. Once you have a favorite, Keigo reasoned, you tend to stick with them. 

Tearing his eyes away from the little figurine, Keigo clicks on the new email. He blinks a few times, even rubs his eyes. No, no way. He spreads his fingers along the computer’s trackpad, enhancing the words. Yeah, no, it’s really there. 

It’s the list. 

Remember? The one with all the HPSC’s approved names for him? 

It’s, well, it’s even more anticlimactic than he was expecting. Damn, it’s over three pages of the most asinine, inane bullshit. Two bad words, oh no, and in one sentence. In his defense, this crap deserved a whole string of curse words.  

There are names like: REDWING, Darkbird, Vulture, WINGMAN, Canary, Condor, RED Condor, Northwind, Zauriel, Red jay, WING. God, it’s just page after page of trash. Whomever they paid to create this, well, they needed a new day job. Might as well just call him: BIRDBOY or something. Sighing, Keigo clicks out of the email, his plumage lifting and lowering, feathers rustling again, perturbed. Yeah, he’s got wings. So what? That’s not all he is.  

Keigo is about to pace back to his bed when another email chimes in. Groaning, he doesn’t even look at the sender before opening it. Oh.

It’s from Kaori and the head of the HPSC. They were wanting to confirm the viewing of the Endeavor mission. Both felt that it was a good use of Keigo’s time and the HPSC’s resources. They just need his answer.

Funny, Keigo thinks, tapping a quick reply, they always like to pretend that he has a say in things. 

******

He’s never been a tall kid. He’s not sure if it’s his quirk or something genealogical. Quirk makes the most sense. It’s hard enough to lug his own tiny body around, he can’t even imagine trying to pull someone like Endeavor into the air. 

Keigo’s seen the number two plenty of times. God, hundreds and hundreds of times, really. But, he’s not prepared for the hulk of a man that is standing before him. Enji Todoroki, that’s his real name. Most heroes don’t hide their civilian names. No, they’re all listed in the databases of the HPSC and open for public scrutiny. Keigo shifts on the balls of his feet, his toes tapping against the pavement. Apparently, that’s not going to be an option for him.

Kaori had sat, prim and proper, next to him in the long black car as they drove to the mission site. Her violet eyes were dull flints of purple as she relayed the news: 

“They need you to pick a name, Keigo. You’re old enough now and the data has shown that you’re learning how to control your quirk. The advancements we’ve seen in the last few months have been outstanding. The HPSC wants you to start making a name for yourself, publicly. We’re hoping, in six or so years, you’ll be operating on a professional level. 

So, look over those names and pick one. Once you do, you’ll no longer go by Keigo Takami. No, that name will be expunged from the records.”

Why? He’d wanted to ask. Why can’t he keep his name? Does it really matter? What were they going to do with him? Why was he even in this program? There were so many questions racing through his mind. But, he just nodded and looked out the window. 

What good did it do to ask? They weren’t going to tell him anything. This was all just another manipulation. They always tried, so, so hard to let him feel like he had a say in his name, in his life, in anything. In reality, he was just their little puppet, floating along on a tight string. 

Keigo looked over the police tape to Endeavor again. Even the number two hero got to keep his name. What makes Keigo so different?

“They’ll be rushing the entrance soon,” Kaori says, her arms crossed, her pressed suit dark against the bright sunlight. “You might be able to see it a little better if you move to the other end of the street.” 

Keigo looks up at her, his eyes impassive. Kaori, sensing his gaze, blinks down at him. “Don’t go far. Consider this a small reward for good behavior. I know what I told you in the car can’t have been easy to hear. Don’t make me regret giving you a little more freedom.” 

For a long moment, Keigo is still. 

He wants to dash off. He’s never done that. It would be nice to place a little distance between him and his handler. Plus, he’s outside. It’s a beautiful day, just puffy clouds and the fresh, clean smell of springtime. Well, and the hustle and bustle of the raid that is unfolding across the street. He looks up at Kaori and her violet eyes lift away from him. She shakes her head and a small smile creeps across her lips. 

“Go on, you better hurry. Endeavor’s about to enter the building.”

It’s all the prodding he needs. Like a shot, Keigo is dashing through the crowd. A few people clamor around him, their voices distant, complaints and admonishments ringing over his golden head. He rounds the street corner and his wings lift, testing the air, trying to tug him into the skies. 

Amber eyes flash as he looks for the perfect spot. Ah-ha! There’s a low, tiled roof across the street. If he can get up to the second story he should be able to see into the back of the compound Endeavor is conducting the raid on.

His back aches, muscles tired and straining, but he ignores the sting. His wings lap against the warm air and, just like that, he’s landing on the roof, his sneakers bright against the dark tile. Keigo turns back to the compound. Yes! Perfect! He can see everything. His wings settle along his shoulders, still lifted as he crouches down, the plumage vibrating, listening.

Keigo can hear some of the transmission between the heroes. Their radios are switched up and the static sound makes his nose wrinkle. It feels fuzzy, almost like he’s stepped on a live wire. Apparently, Endeavor is about to move into the exposed courtyard and Keigo sits up straighter, his wings spreading, cupping under the low wind. He’s so focused on catching sight of the number two that he doesn’t hear the warning cry.

No, he only notices the danger when it’s too late.

His feathers bristle, arching, quivering, reacting as a set of talons rips into his delicate plumage. His wings throb. It stings and he feels the anger, the rage that is coursing through the culprit that’s attacking him. Their screams make his ears ache and he rolls away, his hands instinctively covering his head, protecting himself from the sudden onslaught. His golden eyes are narrowed and searching. What the hell-

The pieces fit into place when he sees her. 

It’s a hawk. She’s already taken to the skies, her dark wings wheeling her back to the roof. She lifts upward, the strong winds carrying her high, against the clouds. Then, she’s diving, her feathers bracing along her sides, propelling her at a terrifying speed. 

She’s headed straight for him. 

Keigo, unthinkingly, rolls out of the way, his own wings flaring open and flapping him a good ten feet or so, hopefully placing him out of range. The hawk pulls up, another scream echoing across the sky. She wheels around, her sharp beak and eyes trained on him. Keigo’s foot slips against the uneven surface of the roof and he bites his lip, his ankle twisting painfully. 

“Hey! Keigo! Oh, there you are. Come on! The raid is wrapping up, we need to get back.”

Kaori’s voice shudders up his spine, his oversensitive wings making her sound like a foghorn. Wait. The raid is over? He whirls back to the compound, his eyes scanning, flashing in his agitation. 

No. No, no, no. 

She’s right. Endeavor and his sidekicks are already back at the front of the building, he can’t even see them clearly from here. He’s missed his chance. Damn it. 

It’s not fair, he thinks, a misting of tears clouding his sight. He’d been so close. And now? Now, he’s gotta go back to that stupid building. Now, they’re going to take away his name and force him to do even more training. Who knows when he’ll get out again. It’s just, it’s not freaking fair.

Keigo wipes his arm against his eyes, pulling the moisture across his sleeve. He can’t let Kaori see him cry. He hasn’t cried in years. He’s not going to give them the satisfaction of knowing that he still...wait...what’s that?

Across the rooftop, close to where his original perch was, is a nest. It looks clumsy, like it might fall off into open space at any moment. It’s held together with a spattering of twigs and sticks, but there’s movement. Keigo lowers his arm, his wings lifting again, feeling. There’s one...no...there’s two chicks inside. They feel soft. Their heartbeats are fluttering, like a butterfly’s wing.  

He looks down at Kaori. She’s standing on the street corner, shielding her eyes from the sun as she peers up at him. Keigo lifts his hand so she can see, one finger raised, silently asking her for a little more time. Kaori groans, he can hear her exhale from here, and nods, lowering her gaze, one hand propped on her jutted hip.

“Be quick about it, Keigo.” 

He lets his wings bevel over his shoulders and he hops, carefully, slowly, across the tiles. As he gets closer, two pairs of yellow eyes peer at him, half hidden in the tangle of twigs. He grins and leans up, wanting to look a little…

The hawk, quick as lightning clatters in front of the nest, shielding her chicks from his curious observation. Her wings flare at his proximity, her beak open, sharp. She clicks a warning, her feathers spreading. Keigo mimics her display, his own wings fanning out and the hawk tilts her head, surprised. Her eyes blink, the dark orange shifting from agitated to quizzical. Slowly, her wings lower, draping along her back. Talons shift against the tiles and she chirps at him. It’s a different sound, less challenging. It's almost like a question.

Keigo lifts one of his hands, his fingers balled into a fist and gingerly extends his arm, his shoes sliding closer. She lifts her wings and glides a little nearer, her head still tilted in that exaggerated way. She chirps at him again and lowers her head. If he reaches out a little further he could stroke a finger down her feathers. Just a bit…

“Keigo!” 

The sound of his name startles him and the hawk. She yanks from his touch and launches herself back into the skies. Keigo watches her, fascinated by the ease, the grace that she moves with. As he’s admiring her fluidity, a single feather flutters to his feet. He almost misses it. The wind starts to catch it, pulling it away, but he snatches it up, his fingers careful to not crush the barbs. 

“Keigo, I’m not going to ask again...”

He uses his wings to help him down the side of the building. The verdant plumage is swelling, arching behind him. It feels different. Keigo lowers them against his back, mirroring the way the hawk had draped them, the feathers close to his skin. It helps. They don’t feel like something that he’s untethered from when he holds them like that. He’s still basking in his discovery when Kaori steps toward him, one brow arched.

“You know better than that, Keigo. Didn’t I ask you to not make me regret giving you a little more freedom? Come on, we’re overdue. What’s that in your hand?”

“Nothing,” Keigo replies, tucking the hawk’s feather into his jean pocket. She was so pretty, fierce and quick.

“You put any thought into any of the names on the lists? We were thinking your hero name should be-”

“Hawks,” Keigo replies, his wings stretching behind him, shimmering in the bright sunlight. “I wanna be called Hawks.”

Notes: bb Keigo is too cute, I couldn’t resist.

Tags: @hawksweek2020​, @spicy-skull,