#I shall be seen but then go into hiding yet again lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

duchess-kyuupid · 1 year

Note

Can you do one where the twst boys are walking with Fem!reader to class or something and reader trips but instead of getting up they just lie there contemplating life and acting like everything is falling apart but they as just being dramatic for the hell of it-

Crack and fluff basically lol

It doesn't matter who just whoever you like writing the most! Thank you ❤️

Of course! I'm going to do three characters who I thought would fit the scenario the best <3 Thank you for being my first request dearie!

Ik it says fem!reader, but I didn't use any pronouns or anything so it can be read as gender neutral :)

~ Twst Men with an overdramatic Reader Falling Down~

[Ft. Rook, Idia, and Sebek]

Rook

- In a moment of weakness on your part, you had asked Rook to help tutor you in the basics of etiquette in this world. Namely, you were just curious about the differences between your world and theirs- for example you mentioned once in a passing comment that it was common curtesy to open doors for people, even strangers, if they were going to be coming in after you. You've even done so when you were walking into class with some people behind you, but all that resulted in was weird looks from your classmates. And not even a thank you! And I mean, it's not like you were expecting to get a thank you, but at the very least, those people could try acting a little more polite! You recounted this story to Rook and he laughed, saying that such a courtesy is not only seen as a lowly servant's job, but it's also the fact that everyone at NRC are mages, so most people will just open the door with magic. - Anyway, so that's how you ended up here, receiving a lecture from Rook about etiquette and the importance of being elegant and beautiful- even more than you already are, at least. - You've been here for hours now, and your initial curiosity has basically evaporated into boredom with a strong longing to just go back to Ramshackle and relax. But you knew there was no way you were going to be able to escape, not with a hunter like Rook keeping his eyes on you like a hawk. - "Ah, mon coeur, it appears as though you've stopped listening! Non, non, mon beauté, this simply mustn't do! Why don't we practice something a little bit more engaging? Some dance lessons shall do just fine, allez!" - And then suddenly you were dragged out of your comfy chair as Rook leads you to the middle of the room to start his lesson with you. He's clearly been enjoying this, with the big smile that hasn't left his face since you've walked in. - So, despite how tired you feel, you accept his proposal to dance. I mean, how could you say no to his face which smiles so brightly that it puts even the sun to shame? - But of course, you also didn't really have the heart to tell Rook that you've never danced before- at least not like this. This formal type of dancing, with Rook's hand settled on your waist and gently holding your other as you two sway to the non-existent music- you don't have very much experience with it, not at all. - So it was only natural that you got stuck staring at Rook's face, again not paying attention to the words that he was speaking about how to waltz elegantly. Your body followed his movements and words on instinct, like you were stuck in a trace just so that you could focus on the one thing that was most important right now: him. - Alas, all good things must come to an end. While you were busy shamelessly staring at Rook as he led your dance, you tripped over your feet and landed face first on the floor. ....Why are we here, just to suffer? - You made no movements to get up, if only to hide the embarrassment ridden on your face. - "Rook, I think this is the end for me...Tell my wife I love her," you made a fake coughing noise, "And delete my search history." - God, how did you even get here? Falling to the floor is literally the last thing you want your crush to see you doing, and yet here you were- your only salvation is to joke about it and hope that Rook doesn't think of you any less for your terrible dancing skills. - But as you were wallowing, Rook simply smiles and picks you up off of the floor with a chuckle. You stare at him in surprise at his strength, as he literally just treated you as if you were as light as a stick. -"Oh là, là, mon beauté! Your dancing skills are truly magnifique! Especially for a first time, I must say you glided through the floor like you were the epitome of dance!" He says as he inspects you for any injuries, making sure to dust off and straighten your clothes in the process. "Vraiment élégante! S'il te plaît, mon coeur, dance with me again!" - Honestly, if your face could get any redder, it would. This man is going to kill you one day if you don't get your pounding heart under control.

Idia

- It was one of those rare days in which Idia was forced to go to class in person, and the two of you were literally watching the clock and counting down the time for the lunch bell to ring. - As it so happens, there was a new, special event that was only going to go live for 24 hours, but the gacha pool only had a limited amount of units that were going to be released per server. - If you two didn't hurry, then everyone else was going to snag this thing and you two would be left with nothing! Nothing but crushed hopes and dreams after months of saving specifically for this day. - Of course, Idia lost his chance to get it in class when Professor took his phone and chewed him out for using it during his lecture, and you didn't have the game downloaded on your phone yet (you really only played it when you were hanging out with Idia in his dorm room, after all). But you were both determined to get it. - When the clock strikes 12, the two of you were going to bolt out of there and make a break for his dorm room to hopefully make it in time. Idia would have to get his phone back later, right now the surest bet would be at his dorm, where he keeps several different computers so that you can try to get the thing too. - 11:58.....11:59.... 12:00!!! - The bell rings and the race to his room begins! - Alas, neither of you could really straight up run there, because if you got stopped by a hall monitor or a teacher, then that would be the end. So you two decided that the best way to go about it was to speed-walk there. - Oh, but you had almost forgotten about how enormously tall Idia is. His version of a "speed-walk" is basically your sprinting pace. You'd never notice because most of the time he's slouching, but this man stands at (183 cm/6'), and his legs are just so ridiculously long that you couldn't help but to fall behind simply because you weren't running. - And Idia notices this too, so in an attempt to help you, he decides to pinch at a loose piece of your clothing (this was already going out of his comfort zone, so don't expect him to just outright initiate physical contact without asking) and drag you forward to meet his pace. - Unfortunately, he failed to think his plan entirely through, as his grip on your clothes were not very tight and you were not expecting to be dragged like that. To make matters worse, the halls were also getting crowded as people were making their way to the cafeteria. - Long story short, Idia lost his grip, and you tripped over, getting lost within the crowd of people at the same time. Idia stops to look behind him in surprise to see you getting swallowed into the mob with a terror-stricken face. - "Go, Idia! This is your chance!" you cry out with fake tears escaping your eyes, "You're gonna have to leave me behind, but don't worry, I'll catch up with you. I won't die here...." You give him a tearful thumbs up as the surrounding students calmly walk around you. - He salutes you with tears in his own eyes, "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten." And he turns around to start full-on sprinting towards his destination. - And you stay there on the floor for another second before chuckling when you come to a certain realization: - "I have now both literally and figuratively fallen for him now, haven't I?"

Sebek

- Sebek, being the gentleman that he is, has decided to walk you back to Ramshackle after learning about Malleus' fondness towards the human who calls him 'Hornton.' - Of course, this has become a regular occurrence for the two of you now. Sebek still walks with you under the guise of making sure that you're not a threat to Malleus, but that's only because he doesn't know how to admit that he's become fond of you too. - The two of you were joking around, generally enjoying each other's company on your walk back home, when all of a sudden you find yourself falling to the ground. - You honestly have no idea what had happened to get you here, but what you do know is that following the few seconds after, Sebek is already yelling at the top of his lungs and interrogating the surrounding students who were unlucky enough to have seen you fall over. - "YOU! DID YOU TRIP THEM ON PURPOSE?" - So you just stayed on the floor, pitying the poor people he began to yell at for basically no reason as you began debating with yourself on the purpose of life. - For the most part though, you were just waiting to see how long it would take Sebek to stop for a moment to realize that you were still on the floor. - Ironically enough, it was when he started interrogating some other people when the ones who he just chewed out came over to you to ask if you were alright and if you needed help standing back up. - "WHAT ARE YOU DOING SO CLOSE TO THEM?? BACK AWAY THIS INSTANT, HUMAN!" Sebek yells (when is he not yelling?), this time actually scaring off the people he was just accusing of tripping you. - "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" - "No, I think I must've broken my back falling for you." - "I'LL TAKE YOU TO THE INFIRMARY THIS INSTANT, AND THE ONES WHO DID THIS WILL NOT GET OFF LIGHTLY!" and just like that, your pick-up line is ignored as Sebek picks you up and begins to run over to the infirmary. Literally the only thing that you could think of now is the fact that, even if you weren't joking and you had actually broken your back, Sebek would probably have made it worse because this is definitely not the correct way to carry someone who's broken their back. In fact, you think, I don't think you're even supposed to pick them up in the first place. - Well, you wanted to tell Sebek that you were fine, that you were just messing with him when you said that. But at the same time, you kinda liked the feeling of having Sebek carrying you like this. It was rather comfy. - "Sebek, I have a first aid kit at Ramshackle that has some things that could help. It's closer than the infirmary, so let's just go there," you say, adjusting yourself so that you were more comfortable leaning against him. - He looks down at you and notices your peaceful-looking face- a face that does not say "help me I've just broken my back and I am in immense pain," and he finally takes a moment to think back on what you said earlier when he asked if you were alright. - With a dramatic gasp, his face flushes pink as he realizes what you had actually meant to say, and in his surprise, he accidentally lets you go too. - "Hey! Was that really necessary?" you pout as you fall to the ground, again, for the second time today. You look up from the ground to see his flustered face and you catch on that he finally figured out what you told him earlier. - "Sorry! You just caught me by surprise," Sebek states, his voice sounding quite meek in comparison to how it was earlier. - "You're going to have to make it up to me for dropping me like that, you know," you say, standing up and dusting yourself off lightly, "And my price is that you carry me back the rest of the way. That's the only way to make things even." - With a flushed face, Sebek nods and picks you up again, this time he became much more aware of how close he was holding you, but he noticed that, strangely enough, he didn't have any problems with it.

Just thinking about how many seagulls it would take to drown out the sound of Sebek's voice lol I'm thinking around 78, honestly

~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for being a little late with your ask! I was hoping to post this for Valentine's day but then work and college decided to drag me through the mud for a bit </3 Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!

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noroi1000 · 1 year

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could a request of the i don't love him but i want him be accepted ? where reader is basically kidnapped by a powerful ( yet weaker ) rival of the gojo family,so we get to see overprotective gojo(he's always protective of her not in that insecure guy way though lol) for that while where he does anything to rescue n protect his wife ? ( badass n feral doing anything for love gojo ? hell yea )

I don't love him but I want to be with him 5

warnings: guns wounds, death

words: 2.1k

"Er… What's your name?"

"…I'm your cousin, Satoru!"

"Yeah… But… Again, how have you been?"

You felt the gun at your temple pressed tighter against your skull.

You didn't mind that you might die soon.

You only feel sorry for your children who are sitting at home with Toge, Yuji and Nobara unaware of anything. To protect them.

You want to see them, so you'll never forgive Satoru if you die now.

You'll never forgive him after you die.

You will not leave your children voluntarily.

They are the most important thing to you. Your family is the most important thing to you.

"I can't remember your name… Is your surname Gojo?" Satoru asked, looking at him.

"I am your father's sister's son!" He shouted, gripping your body in anger.

"Have we ever met?"

"We are Family!"

Satoru was stalling…

Your husband always has a plan for everything…

"Here. Way to go! You won!" Satoru said as he played Monopoly with his sons.

Who would have thought that a mafia boss who sees such sums of money on a daily basis as in this game loses to small children.

He was the first to go bankrupt.

You guessed it was because every time one of your sons stopped in a field he bought, he didn't even tell them to pay him.

Plus, when they wanted to buy something, he paid for it.

You wondered if he even knew the rules of this game well…

But well, he often spoiled his children with gifts. So he also spent in-game money for them.

It was nice for you to watch them play.

The laughter of your children and your husband.

Their smiles.

You were sitting next to him on the couch, staring at the board. And how Satoru had less and less money until he finally lost.

"So what do you want to play now?" he asked as he picked up pieces from the board.

"Hide and Seek!" one of your sons said.

"Sorry, Yuko, but let's pick something from board games, shall we?" said the white-haired one.

He was good with children…

Which of course surprised you a bit because he is young. He's not even 30 years old. But he does a good job as a father.

Even though at the very beginning, when Yuko and Yasuo were babies, he was very insecure and afraid to take them in his arms.

They were so tiny, and he felt insecure about picking them up.

His hands had never held a tiny baby.

He held the gun, he held the bloody blade, he held the collar of a beaten man. He even held a corpse.

But he never held a new life.

There had never been anything so delicate and tiny in his hands before.

He's never seen something he created with someone else.

He had never seen the little baby he had created with another person.

It was the first time he had touched a baby.

And that first time made him able to hold small children.

He helped you feed them, change their diapers, even bathe them.

You can't say otherwise because he also helped you hold them while you were still breastfeeding them.

So what if that pervert's plan was to stare at your tits with impunity.

He could hold the baby and watch…

But you didn't blame him.

He always helped you.

So now when you look at him spending time with his kids, you don't regret anything.

You know that the ruthless mafia boss, who had blood on his hands more than once, found happiness in his family.

You know he hasn't changed as a mob boss. But others may think otherwise.

He just changed as an individual.

Even though he was always good and kind.

Probably he found his inner happiness and love.

He loved his family.

All this made others think that he had become weak…

That he has weaknesses he shouldn't have.

That he is no longer ruthless. That he can't do what he used to do.

That's not true.

He's the same boss he's always been. However, he is husband for you.

You knew something would happen someday.

That someday your happiness will suffer.

And your happiness is your family.

Sitting on the floor with your hands tied behind your back, you just wondered why the man standing in front of you had white hair and was tall.

However, his eyes were a different color. They weren't as beautiful as your husband's eyes.

And his hair was different too. They weren't snow white. His hair was a very light brown tint. It made his hair a cream color.

And his eyes were brown. Completely different from your Satoru…

"Who are you?" You grunted looking at him.

Even though your head hurt, you could still glare at him with fury.

"Come on. We're family." He said and turned to you. "It's good you're awake. I didn't want you to faint for long. But you know, it's dangerous to walk around the city alone knowing you're married to the head of the most powerful mafia in Japan."

He crouched next to you.

"I don't know you…" you growled.

"Satoru probably didn't tell you about having another cousin, did he?"

"You–."

"Don't talk much. It has that thing that makes you weak when you wake up." He laughed.

"What do you want?"

"Just take it all for good. My cousin has become weak. All because he has a family now… You weaken him, his children protect him. Don't you think he's not the same boss he was before? His power has diminished. All because he wanted to be a good husband and father…"

"Fuck off…"

"Same as Satoru… I just want to make sure that my family's mafia doesn't fall down in rank because of this asshole. So either he gives me the boss or you and his kids die."

Suddenly you saw him pull out your phone and dial your husband's number.

"(y/n)? Where are you, the boys started to cry that you're not home for a long time."

You heard his voice coming from the phone.

"Satoru…" You grunted but were silenced.

"(y/n)?"

"Let's start politely, and I'll tell you everything right away. Give me the leadership of the entire family mafia and nothing will happen to your family."

"Who are you?"

"Don't you recognize my voice, Satoru?"

"Not very."

"You little…"

"Let's talk differently. Let my wife out and your ass won't hurt that much."

"Oh? Can you threaten? And could you say the same to your family?" he laughed. "Come on. Just admit that you couldn't hurt or sacrifice anyone in your family… Admit that you've gone soft. That you have become weak."

Suddenly he disconnected.

"If I find you, you'll regret it. If I find my wife, you will feel the pain."

You heard screams, noises and bangs all over the building while you were sitting on the floor that same day and your hands were tied.

This position has already started to tire you because your wrists are already sore from the rope.

"Oh? Something wrong? Did I tie it too tight?"

You looked over at the man. You wanted so badly to spit in his face. Let him know his place.

As a trash…

"Hang on a little longer. I think he'll be here soon-"

Suddenly the door burst open with a bang.

You saw the smile of the man as he reached for the collar of your clothes and pulled you closer to him.

"Shut up bitch." he said as he pulled a gun from his waistband.

You saw people come in and you recognized them all immediately.

Your friends.

Each of them had a gun ready to fire.

He, your husband, came out between them.

In a white shirt. The gun visible in the waistband of his pants.

The thin black glasses on his nose were lowered as he studied you and the guy behind you.

You felt no fear from him. He wasn't afraid of anything.

"(y/n)?" He grunted at you.

It was a question of are you okay.

"Satoru–" you groaned, but you were interrupted by the gun that was pressed against your head.

"We finally see each other. After all these years… I knew you were doing well. However…"

Satoru interrupted him.

"However, have I become weak and soft? Don't make me laugh." He snorted with obvious dignity and superiority.

"Just give me control of our family mafia. You can no longer rule. Your father made a mistake giving it to you instead of me. And as his nephew, I always had the right to…" he snapped. "Give it to me and I'll let your wife go. Resist, and she, like you and your children, will die."

"Do you have any other people? As far as I know, we've already killed everyone who was in the building."

"I will always be in a winning position. You would never hurt someone you love…"

"Er…what's your name?" he asked suddenly.

"…I'm your cousin, Satoru!"

"Yeah… But… Again, how have you been?"

You felt the gun at your temple pressed tighter against your skull.

You didn't mind that you might die soon.

You only feel sorry for your children who are sitting at home with Toge, Yuji and Nobara unaware of anything. To protect them.

You want to see them, so you'll never forgive Satoru if you die now.

You'll never forgive him after you die.

You will not leave your children voluntarily.

They are the most important thing to you. Your family is the most important thing to you.

"I can't remember your name… Is your surname Gojo?" Satoru asked, looking at him.

"I am your father's sister's son!" He shouted, gripping your body in anger.

"Have we ever met?"

"We are Family!"

Satoru was stalling…

Your husband always has a plan for everything…

"We may be family, but I don't remember you…"

During their conversation, you saw Megumi's lips move.

And suddenly you heard a loud shot behind you.

This caused the gun to fall out of your kidnapper's hand.

"Just shoot, Dad…" Megumi murmured softly into the small earpiece in his ear.

"I'm not supposed to kill, am I?" Toji replied.

"Don't do it yet."

"Megumi, but you know I would love to kill someone from the Gojo family. If that white-haired jerk didn't pay me to murder, I'd gladly kill him too."

"Don't wait and don't talk. Do it now…"

Drops of blood fell to the floor from the wound in his arm.

You pulled away quickly and ran over to Satoru, standing up.

His hands were placed on your cheeks as he looked all over you. Defining your condition.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he took the knife from Geto and cut the rope around your wrists.

You nodded your head and hugged him quickly.

"I told you…" said his relative weaker. He had his hand on the bullet-pierced shoulder. "You are weak and soft. You only care about your family… And you should care about your power and image… You've become–."

Bang

You heard it very loud next to your head.

As you turned around, you saw the man's eyes widened as the bullet pierced his thigh.

Then another shot. Second leg pierced.

You looked at your husband's hand holding the gun.

He gently pushed you away, standing in front of you.

When he saw him trying to grab his gun, Gojo fired another bullet. Fitting perfectly in the middle of his hand. Making him cry out in pain.

Satoru was known for that when he was holding a gun, he never missed. He always hit the target. His perfect eyesight made it possible.

He did everything as fast as few people. He noticed everything even faster. Hence his nickname as a member of the Mafia. "six eyes".

"Say something else…" he said stepping closer.

He pulled the trigger again. Shooting the other arm of the man.

He kicked his chest, and placed his boot on his sternum, pressing down.

"Say something else. So that I can put a few more bullets into you with even more pleasure."

"You fucking bastard…"

"I'm only nice to my family. If I don't consider you a member of this, you're just shit getting in my way. If it was me, you'd get one bullet in the head. But you took her. You wanted to take my children from me. Hols in the body for my one son. Second ones for second. And a bullet in your head, for my wife. I guess that's fair, isn't it?"

"You –"

"Oh yeah…" he smiled suddenly. "I am a ruthless madman. I don't care about your life."

The gun was aimed at his head.

The mad smile widened.

"And whoever threatens my family that I love will never see anything but darkness again."

Bang

"My family is what I care most about… I would never forgive myself if I lost them. I will not lose my closest and dearest people. I won't let anyone take that happiness away from us."

#jujustu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo angst #satoru gojo #gojo x you #mafia au

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kanmom51 · 1 year

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Run BTS Next Top Genius Special Part 2

I was contemplating if to write a whole separate post here or if to just reblog and add my own two cents.

Went with option no. 1 just cause my fingers, they were itching.

And what is it I'm talking about here?

The rock scissors paper game and the whole discussion about JK's loyalties.

Cause why enjoy the show? Let's go look for how to tear JK down, it's the new pass time for some parts of this fandom.

So, let's join the conversation, shall we?

These people are utterly ridiculous.

Instead of enjoying the damn episode, which was hilarious, btw, they are busy making claims about JK’s supposed behavior. Judging by little snippets they see on Twitter or TikTok instead of seeing the full picture.

*Note to those ridiculous humans:

Watch the damn episode. Full original content people. Do you not remember that rule? And if it’s moving too fast for you, then watch it again, goddammit, before sprouting your nonsense.

I can tell you that I did. Watched it again to figure out what exactly was going on there. What JK was doing. What he was telling Tae. What he told JM before the last round. His explanation at the end about his behaviour (man just knows he can’t lie, lol).

WATCH IT AGAIN IF YOU NEED TO !!

Just a couple of things I wanted to add to this convo.

JK studied the cards, he did try to. Went to Tae and literally told him the truth. “Leave the card you are winning on and change the others”.

Strange behavior you might think, being on JM’s team. But he explains it at the end:

See, I'm not sure the translation is accurate or understandable, lol. But I do think what he meant, bottom line, is that he wouldn't be able to lie and get away with it, lol.

JK did what he knew to do, stick to the truth.

But the end round, telling JM to trust his gut – twice. That was when he showed his true hand. This is after he says to everyone they need to keep a poker face, which they certainly did not…

2nd time:

Tae’s shock when he sees JK is on JM’s team, lol.

And the editors…although I do need to have a talk to them with some of the clear Jikook cuts going on during this episode, with this one they did well…

And I rest my case. That face. He just can't hide it. So, the strategy was: tell the truth, don't get caught, don't be obvious (like go stand next to JM and walk between the two) and trust JM's gut to change the cards around.

Did kind of work... Just saying...

JM’s reaction is also something people overlook.

How worked up he was about Jin and Hobi being on his team. Both of them were hectic on his side of the game while JK who never set foot on JM’s side was on his team, and JM’s reaction to that?

Lol, non existent.

Nothing.

Like the man wasn’t surprised one little bit.

So, either those two are doing the telepathy thing, or maybe we missed one of their multitude of signs of communicating with each other with no words, cause it looked like JM just knew.

Perhaps it was the hand shake at the beginning, maybe there was a little hand squeeze going on or the eye contact (short but meaningful? Lol), or that “trust your gut” bit at the end did it…who knows.

But felt to me like JM just knew JK was on his side of the fence (not only in spirit but by the gods of the game).

When you look at the footage it actually looks like JM was looking for Tae’s reaction when JK goes on his side and found it highly amusing. Just saying.

I also love the way JK is fixing up the covers over JM’s cards when JM was pulling his tantrum over thinking Hobi was working against him, lol.

Also, just wanted to add these just cause they are really pretty:

A-ha...

Go watch the episode if you haven't seen it yet.

It's bloody hilarious.

#Jikook #kookmin #minkook #jungkook #Jk #JM #Jimin #Jikook run bts #jikook run bts next top genius

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sunder-soul · 3 years

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PROMPT 1: Hellooooooo! First off ur writing goes off, second off listen to this idea that i truly think u can bring to life... reader n tom r in a relationship and someone tried to slip tom to love potion but ofc he doesn't fall for it and his gf is like ??? and then they rub their relationship in her face LOL. anyways no worried just thought this would slap! Admire u n ur work!!

PROMPT 2: hey i love your the last of your rules series and everything else you’ve written. i’m not very creative so idk what exactly i’m looking for plot wise i just trust you since everything you’ve written is good but i was wondering if maybe you could write a tom x ravenclaw reader please. the ravenclaw reader tends to be more emotionally reserved and isn’t big on physical affection and maybe tom finds that interesting in a way? idk this idea might suck but felt like asking anyways...

Decided to combine these two because I could see them working really well together… :D

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Retribution

Summary: After somebody tries to slip Tom a love potion to break up him and Ravenclaw Reader’s relationship, they get a little bit theatrical in response...

Wordcount: 1.8k

Content warning: none.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Good morning,” says Tom evenly, lifting a wide-brimmed cup to his lips and taking an even sip as he looks at you.

“Is it?” you say dryly, sitting down opposite him at the Slytherin table and pulling out the new Magical Theory textbook. “Have you looked over this yet?”

“I have,” Tom replies with a very small smile. “Not to your liking?”

“Sophus writes like it’s still the seventeenth century,” you say with a shake of your head, “which isn’t surprising considering I don’t think he included a single reference from the last two hundred years… I mean honestly –” you wave at the title on the front of the book, “– ‘Corpus Magikus?’ Even the title makes it sound ancient.”

“Did you have any criticisms about the actual content per chance?” Tom asks as he lifts his tea again – though it doesn’t quite hide the amused smile on his lips. “Or did you not manage to get past the articulation?”

You give him a look. “The articulation is just as important as the content.”

“I completely disagree,” he replies easily, his cup clinking as he rests it back on its saucer, “regardless of how it is written, his points are extremely sophisticated.”

“I’m not talking about the quality of his points, I’m talking about how well he makes them accessible,” you say at once, picking up a piece of toast and buttering it lightly, “he can have the best criticisms of Magical Theory in the world and no one will care if they can’t understand what he’s saying.”

Tom arches a brow and leans forward on the table, resting on his forearms. “You’re placing the responsibility of understanding an argument on the person presenting it, and not the person receiving it,” he says fluidly, “personally when I find something difficult to understand, I take it as an indicator that I need to return to the topic after better preparing myself.”

“That works fine as an individualistic perspective,” you reply at once, leaning forward to match him, “but a book isn’t written for an individual, is it? It’s written for an audience. A book like this is measured by how wide an audience it can reach, meaning the responsibility is half on him to write accessibly, and half on the audience to go away and fill the holes in our own understanding. That’s when information is dispersed most effectively.”

“Your priority is the dispersion of information as a whole and not the expansion of your personal field of knowledge, and that is the crux of our differing opinion,” Tom says, sitting up straighter and tilting his head calmly.

“I am very aware,” you say dryly, “but you shouldn’t dismiss the importance of charisma when it comes to spreading information. After all, academics aren’t exactly known to be the most charismatic people most of the time, so you end up with intelligent, useful tomes that are utterly incomprehensible to most people –” you nod at the text again, “whilst compelling idiotic drivel is widely consumed.”

The Daily Prophet lands with a thump on your breakfast plate as the delivery owl swoops away with a mournful hoot, and you share a pointed, very wry look with Tom.

Tom breathes a little laugh and laces his fingers around his cup. “So you’re not looking forward to Magical Theory, then.”

“I am,” you amend, frowning, “I just hope the class follows more like Waffling’s work than this.”

“Of course you like Waffling,” Tom smirks, lifting his cup, “he effectively writes in verse –”

Tom suddenly freezes, his brow furrowing lightly. You raise a brow at his sudden reaction. “What?”

He looks down at his tea, still frowning.

“Tom?” you prompt, bemused.

“Someone has attempted to drug me,” he says in complete seriousness, looking up at you.

You stare back, bewildered. “Is… is this more Tom humour?” you ask after a moment, “you seriously need more practice at making jokes, Tom, you really are terrible at it –”

“I’m not joking,” Tom interrupts crisply.

Your scrutiny drops to the cup in his hand. “How can you tell?”

“My tea smells like you.”

Your brows raise. “Excuse me?”

“My tea,” he repeats evenly, his dark eyes coming alight with a flicker of amusement as he leans closer, his cup still in one hand, “rather suddenly smells like you. I can only assume someone has managed to slip Amortentia into my cup sometime during this conversation.”

You blink at him. “Oh,” you say simply.

Tom’s lips curve into a more defined smirk at your expression.

“Well who’s trying to drug you then?” you ask quickly, looking away.

“An excellent question,” he says silkily, eyes still on you. “Their motive is hardly a mystery, so that should narrow it down.”

You roll your eyes and level him with a flat look. “Nothing could narrow it down less, Tom,” you drawl, “half the school is in love with you, and the other half is in denial about being in love with you.”

Tom arches a brow and looks very pleased with himself. “Should I drink it and we can find out?” he asks in amusement, lifting the cup.

You huff a laugh and take a bite of your toast. “Go on then, but don’t expect any sympathy from me when you’re pouring your heart out to some random stranger in front of the whole school a minute from now.”

His hand freezes with the rim of his cup an inch from his mouth, amusement faltering.

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk. “If you want to play it that way you’re going to have to be smarter than that.”

“Oh?” he asks, dark eyes narrowing. “And what would you suggest?”

“If someone drugged you during this conversation then they’re probably watching for your reaction,” you say casually around bites of your toast, “so just look out for someone who’s waiting for you to dramatically break up with me.”

“According to you, that would be the entire school,” Tom mutters, looking significantly more disgruntled than before.

A grin slowly builds on your face. “That was nearly a real joke, Tom,” you say ironically, “Merlin you’ve come so far…”

He shoots you a flat glare and you snicker. “Alright, sorry, I’ll stop – look, if I storm out of here looking upset and you act all conflicted and brooding for the rest of the day, whoever it was will probably try to come talk to you.”

“How theatrical,” Tom deadpans.

You shrug. “Do you want to know who drugged you or not?”

His eyes remain on yours for a moment, and then he lifts the tea to his lips. You watch him pretend to drink, your eyes lingering on the tea glistening on his lips as he lowers the cup.

“Don’t lick your lips,” you say quietly, not quite able to look away.

Tom’s other hand shifts slightly where it’s resting on the table between you, and the tea vanishes both from his lips and the cup. You give him another dry look. “Show off,” you accuse, smiling, “wandless and non-verbal, huh?”

“If you ask nicely, I’ll teach you how to do it,” he smirks.

You huff a laugh and slide Corpus Magikus back into your bag. “I should make my dramatic exit soon,” you say casually, finishing your toast and looking around the hall absently. “Perhaps we should have a fight first.”

“That would make it more convincing, yes,” he says delicately, still looking amused.

“What shall we fight about?"

Tom’s expression immediately cools and he leans in so close that you can see the patterns in his dark irises. “The content doesn’t matter,” he says smoothly, a glimmer in his eyes despite his utterly blank expression, “rather, the articulation.”

You hold his gaze for a second, fighting the urge to smile. You force yourself to stand suddenly, as if he’s said something of great offence. “I’ve never seen you so quickly converted to my opinion, Tom,” you say icily, leaning down to him over the table and hoping it looks like you’re angry.

“You made your argument very convincingly,” Tom says immediately, lifting his chin coolly.

“Actively demonstrating my point, I suppose,” you snap, standing straight. “I’m going to storm out now.”

“I’ll see you in class,” he says dismissively, pouring himself more tea.

You turn on your heel and leave, ignoring the curious eyes following you on your way out and not letting the smile break on your face until you’re well outside the Hall. Now all you have to do is wait.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Amelia Staghart,” Tom says in your ear before swiftly sitting down next to you in Potions that afternoon.

You raise a brow at him, watching as he arranges his Potions kit on the desk – Staghart is sitting a few desks behind you at that very moment and can most definitely see the both of you. “Are we no longer having a fight?”

“I grew tired of that pretence rather quickly,” Tom says curtly.

You smirk. “Did she talk to you?”

“Yes.” He looks decidedly irritated.

“A lot, huh.”

He shoots you a glare and you bite back another smile. “Are you going to report her then?” you ask, writing the date out on your parchment.

“No,” Tom says softly. You glance up curiously at his tone and find his dark eyes watching you write, before they flick up to yours. “I can think of a more pertinent retribution for her to endure,” he finishes quietly, not looking away.

“Retribution?” you echo, arching a brow with a slight smile. “And you accuse me of being theatrical.”

But Tom only leans closer and – to general astonishment – places a very gentle kiss on your cheek. His lips linger soft and warm on your skin for a moment as you’re frozen in place, staring at him as he slowly draws away an inch. His eyes roam your face as you blink in surprise, his lips curving into another humorous smile at your expression when there’s a sudden SMASH from behind you.

The entire class turns from where they’ve been staring wide-eyed at Tom’s display of affection to see Staghart’s inkwell knocked asunder on her desk, spreading black ink across the wood and dripping down to the floor, her eyes wide and her expression thunderstruck as she stares at you.

“Clean that up at once, Staghart!” Slughorn says disapprovingly as he strides into the room. “I certainly hope your clumsiness does not extend through today’s lesson – we’re brewing poisons today, class!”

Staghart goes red as the rest of the students titter and chatter, furiously glaring at the pool of ink dripping into her lap.

You glance at Tom and share a silent look of amusement before the two of you simultaneously turn back to your notes, still smirking.

#Tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #established relationship #ravenclaw reader #amortentia #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfic #harry potter #minific #retribution #prompt #Anon #gn reader

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yoongsisbae · 3 years

Text

Handshakes of a Lifetime - Chapter 6

BTS soulmate AU. OT7 x reader / Taehyung x reader focused in this chapter, slight Jungkook x reader and Namjoon x reader

Usually by the time I finish a chapter, I will have a nice chunk of the next chapter done, when I finished chapter 5 I had TWO SENTENCES FOR THIS CHAPTER cries, ugh this was a journey lol but I had fun along the way :). Also, I wanted to shoutout @missseoulite I remember having a really bad day when I saw your sweet comment about being eager for the new chap and just knowing someone cared enough to wish me safety and care about my well being, well it meant a lot to me, so this chapter is dedicated to you my dear!!!! <3

Word count: 10.3k

Warnings: death, mention of a suicide, if you’re like me and don’t like to think about being old this chapter might trigger an existential crisis lol, cheating, men being sexist, angst but also fluffiness, sex with Taehyung, breeding kink, a character calls you and Tae children but you are two very grown adults I just wanted to make that super duper clear.

---

“I want to try, I think it would be worth it, you’ll be worth it.”

‘Why did he have to say that,’ you wince, looking over at the idol. He is beautiful, way out of your league, above you in every way, and he’s looking back at you like his whole world hangs in the balance. How could you reject him now. You groan.

You stand up. You place your palm in front of his face, your fingers splayed out, you can see his wide excited eyes in the gaps between them. You look at him expectantly. Taehyung nods, places his palm to yours, interlocking your fingers together.

Your heart thumps wildly as darkness fills the room. You open your eyes once you hear the familiar voice of your husband call out to you, “No need to fret anymore, my beloved. I’m here now.” Taehyung’s hand covers your old and frail fingers. You lie in your bed, body tired and weathered from all the years you’ve spent on this earth.

Your eyes roam over the room, taking in all the faces of your beautiful children and grandchildren. The pain in your tired joints fades as you focus on the man you’ve only grown to love more in all the years you’ve been together. It’s because of him you’ve lived a fulfilled life full of love. With him by your side you’re ready now.

You look up from your crouched position, the flowers you’ve picked lie fresh and pretty in your basket. You look to the dirt path where a man is running towards you. ‘What is a man doing here of all places?’ you think.

He comes to a stop once he sees you, hands on his knees as he gasps for breath. He looks young and beautiful, though his robes are askew and torn and his face glistens as sweat drips from his chin. You almost decide to ignore him and go back to your duties until you notice the red lines that peak from the uncovered parts of his torso. The cuts look painful. You hesitate, “Do you need some assistance?”

“Don’t mind me, fair maiden,” his breathing is still heavy as he speaks. He looks around, taking in his surroundings. ‘What is he looking for?’ you wonder. You can tell he is trying to hide his panic, but it comes through in his tense movements and jittery eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

Four men on horse approach you. You notice they are soldiers by the gold plates that cover their body. You hold the flower basket a little tighter to your chest. The first soldier speaks, “Have you seen a man come through this way?”

“You’re the only men I’ve seen for days.”

You feel their lewd stares on you, your stomach churns from the unwanted attention. One soldier dismounts his horse and stalks closer to you. “A pretty little thing like you wouldn’t dare lie to us?” he questions.

“I swear on goddess Athena.” You stand still and look to the ground as he invades your space. The soldier brings a calloused hand to your chin to make you look at him, his companions snickering at your discomfort.

“For days? You must be lonely, poor sweet thing you are.” The other soldiers dismount and circle you. You try to keep your face neutral from the disgust you feel as their eyes rake over your body.

“It is as I said,” your eyes shift to the marble walls of the temple behind you. “I would not lie in Athena’s name, I am protected by her watch.” You emphasize your last words, keeping your limbs close and suppressing your instincts to fight and draw this encounter out any longer than need be.

The men look over to the temple and begin to move closer to the entrance. You follow after them, dropping your basket and letting the flowers scatter into the dirt in your haste.

“No men shall enter, unless you want to face the wrath of the goddess herself,” you yell from behind them. The men laugh. You find the courage to pull at the leader’s armour to cease his advancing. “You will be cursed if you go in there, sir!”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide as he hides underneath the blanket you’ve covered him in. He removes his hand from the temple’s wall, and brings his knees up and off the floor, trying to touch as little as possible of his surroundings.

The men scoff at your words, the leader shoves you away but does not advance any closer. You’ve taken up enough of their time, and they need to find this criminal before The Queen bestows her own kind of punishment upon them.

“Be careful, girl. There is a dangerous man fleeing prosecution, pray to your Goddess we find him before you do.” You find their warning quite ironic as you watch the leader kick your basket. You assume in an attempt to be intimidating, but in your opinion it makes him look more like a petulant child, your brow ticks in annoyance.

Only when they are completely out of your sight do you let go of the breath you were holding. You run into the temple, crashing into the stranger as he runs out.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaims, his hands grabbing onto you to keep you from falling. Electricity zips through you as you both break away stunned. You rub at your arms to take away your goosebumps. The stranger lowers the hand that clutched at his chest, his wide eyes looking at you in question.

“Is it true? A curse is the last thing I need right now!” he laments. You giggle. The soldiers called this man dangerous?

“The rules say no man is to enter, yes.” His horrified expression makes you laugh even more. “But...they are more like guidelines,” you assure him. “Enough temple priestesses have brought their fair share of men back and nothing too sinister has happened yet, by the gods.”

It does little to lessen his worry. He looks at you skeptically. “I thought Athena’s priestesses were supposed to stay virginal in honor of the goddess’s protection.”

“Oh,” you offer him a smile, “that is her protection. It is perception that protects us.”

You eye the man, his features are sharp, striking; almost intimidating; but his aura is quite soft. “...protects us from men. In this world there are very few true heroes, I’m afraid most only live inside songs.”

He looks at you in understanding. “My apologies, you had to deal with those soldiers alone. I couldn’t do anything to defend you.” He winces at the thought, “For you to have shielded me instead, I thank you.” He offers you a deep bow and you feel butterflies dance in your chest.

“Can I ask as to why you’re running?”

He looks to the direction he came, unable to meet your eyes. “Ahh, well...I am in poor favor with The Queen.”

Your eyes widen, you’ve heard rumors of her beauty even in the remoteness of your area, and even more of her kingdom’s hedonism. The man in front of you is truly beautiful. He could be one of her lovers, you think, he most definitely looks the part. His robes though now disheveled are of expensive fabric and show off his lean body, and the way he holds himself you can’t imagine him to be a common worker. “So, you and The Queen, I see...”

“Oh! It’s not what you think...I’m a mere poet. I sing to The Queen and her Court, but she suddenly wanted more of me than I am willing to offer. I-I rejected her.”

Your eyes widen again. “That was most unwise.”

He smiles, his eyes cast down. “I can bear the weight of my faults. I plan to leave to another province.”

“You’ll rather leave your home? But it is The Queen!”

“As you can see, there is punishment in denying The Queen of her desires.”

You’re astonished. “I can’t imagine being with her to be so horrible you’d choose to run instead, give up all you’ve acquired?”

“I rather give myself to someone for love.”

You feel your heartbeat quicken at his words, ‘so idealistic.’ You’ve never encountered an individual with such delicate presence, a trait you find most unconventional. A smile pulls at one of the corners of your mouth, “Aphrodite must favor you.”

Taehyung laughs, his eyes softening, “Thank you again, someone must favor me to put you in my path.” His warm dark eyes hold your gaze. “I mustn’t stay too long…”

“Yes, of course! Well then…” You falter in your farewell. He struggles with the decision to leave. Taehyung knows he must, The Queen’s soldiers could come riding through again at any moment, and he doesn’t want to think of the punishment they would bestow upon you if they learned of your lies, so why can’t he seem to let go of your company?

He notices the trampled flowers littered on the ground around you, the colorful petals lay beautiful and ruined, a fate he worries will become yours if he doesn’t make haste. He picks up an unbroken blossom. “Thank you again.” He places the flower in your palms, a warmth spreads over you through your fingertips as you hold your breath in reverence. His thumbs stroke your fingers gently, and then he nods at you one last time and moves to run again. You feel a pressure building in your throat, unready to bid him farewell, and you don’t understand why this man whom you’ve just met is affecting you so. His kindness and his gentleness makes your body yearn to learn more. What can you do, he’s a stranger and not yours to keep, you must let him go.

His flower stays cradled in your hands, you feel your chest tighten more and more with each step he takes that brings another stretch of distance between your bodies. Your limbs itch to move. What should you do? It is what you want to do that makes you so afraid. You silently ask Athena for guidance. It is only when he turns past the treeline and out of sight that you can’t take it any longer.

You run into the temple. You race to your small quarters, and gather anything you deem valuable, not very much. Pushing down the thoughts that tell you you’re acting crazed and without reason, you fasten your belongings to your body. You race out of the temple's entrance and crash once again into a body that jolts your nerve endings with an undeniable energy. You stare into his eyes once more, the man you saved. He looks down at you, eyes wide with surprise but full of mirth.

A horse carries you and Taehyung farther North. You travel in comfortable silence, as your hands rest snugly around his waist. After riding with him for so long, you are no longer shy to hold him, accustomed to being pressed up against his back. You listen to the steady rhythm of horse hooves against the earth. It is peaceful and you find yourself smiling against Taehyung’s back.

The bright lush green landscape turns dark and threatening as the two of you ride past an abandoned village. The wooden wreckage smolders still. You gasp at the sight, so many homes lost. Taehyung taps the horse’s body with his foot to quicken its step.

“Stop!” You yell at Taehyung once you notice a shift amongst the rubble. You jump off before he properly stops his stead, running towards the wreckage to confirm what you thought you had witnessed.

Taehyung runs after you, warning you to be careful. Once you reposition a large plank of wood, you gasp at what you see. There’s a bleeding old woman pinned underneath, still alive. You call for Taehyung’s help, the both of you pulling her as delicately as you can manage from beneath the rubble.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive, it’s a miracle by The Gods.” Taehyung holds the old woman’s hand as you run to the horse to fetch a canteen of water.

“Oh, a miracle yes,” the old woman coughs out, “fate has blessed me after much burden.”

You work to clean her skin of dried blood and ash, offering her water to drink. “What can we do to help?”

“My walking stick, it is most important.” Her eyes stay closed shut in pain, as she gestures to the place you’ve pulled her from. Taehyung rummages around until he pulls an item from the wreckage, an impressive staff decorated with gold markings and a large green gem adorned at its apex.

The old woman offers Taehyung her gratitude, feeling much more at ease she opens her eyes to look at the pair of you. You stare into the old woman’s clouded grey eyes in surprise.

“Thank you child, but hurry, the rain will wash the flames away, but will halt your journey for the day.” Taehyung looks upwards at the old woman’s words, white clouds are traveling across the bright clear blue sky.

You can’t leave the blind woman alone after everything she’s been through. “If it’s going to rain, please let us take you to the next village for shelter.” She nods and walks staff in hand towards Taehyung’s horse.

“Only a bit further, we will make it before it rains,” the old blind woman promises. Sounds of thunder echo faintly in the background. The sun is no longer out, hidden behind dark grey storm clouds. You shiver and rub the exposed skin of your arms for comfort next to Taehyung as the two of you walk next to his horse. He grasps your hand and pulls you closer to him. He radiates warmth. You never know how to react to his kind gestures. You look up at him and meet his gaze, sending him a shy smile. He rubs his thumb on your knuckles, smiling brightly back. If his intentions were to make you warm, he succeeded, your heart feels full.

“This is a farming community. They are a kind people who serve Demeter, the two of you are safe here,” At the old woman’s declarations you and Taehyung look at each other, exchanging unspoken words.

“This is where our paths must diverge. If you continue to follow this road, you’ll find sanctuary for the night, I promise.” Taehyung helps the old blind woman down from his horse. “Thank you again, children. I don’t have anything to offer you in return for your help, but I can give you some words of wisdom.” She smiles kindly at you both.

The old blind woman still holds Taehyung’s hand in hers. She turns his palm upward, her fingers trace the lines of his hand. You watch her curiously. “Ahh, your soul holds so much talent, you’ll find it’s both a blessing and a curse.” You giggle, Taehyung shoots you a look, his lips curving into a half smile. “Ahh, you know of it already. In the future, you’ll have a great choice to make, I can’t choose for you, but as someone who's lived many years and knows how dreadful and gray the world can become, my advice is to choose the path of love.”

“Always,” Taehyung’s eyes cast a look over to you and you feel shy once more under his gaze.

She brings her hand to Taehyung’s face to pat his cheek. “Dear child, too beautiful for your own good. It won’t be easy for you, for either of you, this path before you. Hermes wings have found your heels, you won’t find much rest in this life.” She looks sympathetic as her head turns towards you.

“Much like the universe has brought you to me, I see destiny is not a stranger.” She smiles at you knowingly. You hold your breath as she reaches for your hand, studying your palm alongside Taehyung’s. “Your souls...they have been linked together. I see the red string of fate wrapped tightly around you both.”

You find yourself wanting to believe her. Her words seem heartfelt and true, and you can’t deny her strong aura despite her fragile appearance. You catch Taehyung’s eyes again. Has he been looking at you this entire time? She continues, “This bond you have is quite unbreakable, not even death can cut what tethers you together.” She studies your hand more carefully, “Ahh, peculiar...”

“Do you see something worrisome?” you ask, concerned.

“It is nothing to worry dear, you have much love that surrounds you. Let yourself love. There will be those who will try to keep you apart, but take it from an old old woman, love is a stronger force than even the gods can imagine. It glitters brighter than gold and gives you riches greater than Kings. In the end, you’ll find a way.”

You think of her words all night. You look over to your companion, he sleeps peacefully next to you. Do you love him? Is this love? Is he your destiny? You pray to Athena for answers, but only more questions arise in your mind.

You think to the day you first met him, the memory bringing a smile to your face. You left with him, in the end. It was you who found the courage to ask him to take you with him, on the premise of wanting to see the world while moving to another temple. You expected him to let you down gently, you remember his hesitation still, but instead he had not refused you, and you have been traveling with him ever since. Being with Taehyung filled the holes of loneliness that punctured your existence before meeting. Your world had been small, consisting only within the temple’s walls. Now your world feels infinite, it’s thrilling and terrifying, and at the center of it all is Taehyung, gentle and kind and sincere in his affection.

---

You are jostled from your sleep. Taehyung pulls you gently from your bed, his lips placing tender kisses across your forehead as he pulls you to your feet. “I’m sorry, we have to leave again.”

This is not the first time you've had to run, or the second or third. So you pack the things you cannot part with and say goodbye to the rest.

Taehyung, the beautiful poet with a voice that can capture any audience's attention, has always been able to afford you both a roof and a meal. Taehyung’s performances become the talk of whatever acropolis you find yourself in, and his fame grows until his looks and voice catch the attention of someone too important to ignore. Fame is a wonderful thing until it becomes too much, too demanding, and all too quickly can Taehyung’s admirers turn into attackers, vilifying his every action. When that happens he decides to run, and you follow. You worry if it goes on like this you’ll have no more places left to run to.

You liked this place the most, it pangs your heart to lose your home again, but you know your true home is in Taehyung’s arms. You pack as many mementos of this place as you can carry, and hold the rest of your memories close in your heart.

---

“Like this,” you pull your bow back and look to the trees ahead where three pheasants sit perched. You choose the biggest bird and aim your arrow. You make sure Taehyung is studying your form and then you let the arrow go. The bird squawks sharply before falling to the ground, and the others scatter to the sky.

“See!” you laugh at Taehyung’s astonished face.

“How are you so much better at this than me?” The poet whines as you hand him back his bow and arrow. You laugh again. You and Taehyung have been learning to survive by yourselves through trial and error, more error than not. You’ve never had to hunt for food before, but you quickly found yourself skilled, and you think it’s quite fun. At least when you’re not starving, stomach already full from fresh berries Taehyung had picked for you to share. He had picked you flowers as well. They sit in your hair in an intricate pattern after you complained to him you couldn’t eat flowers. You slowly remove the arrow bag from around your neck, so as not to ruin the halo he so carefully crafted.

“I caught it, so you cook it,” you tease.

He brings your hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “That, my fair maiden, I can do!”

---

It is late and Taehyung has not arrived home. His performance should have been done hours ago. You try not to let your thoughts wander into the dark depths of your worst fears as you settle into a restless unease. Your home is quiet and still, too quiet. You keep your ears focused as you wander around the house.

It goes from quiet to chaos too quickly, you hear shouting in the distance. A hand grabs your mouth before you can scream, you start to kick but strong arms hold you tightly. Taehyung shushes you as he pulls you to the back entrance of your home.

You’re running into the woods with the poet, he pulls you to the ground and holds you beneath him. From the bushes you watch men with swords circle your house. You feel violated as you watch them enter your home. Crashes inside make you flinch in Taehyung's arms. “We’ll go back to fetch our things once they leave,” he shushes you.

The soft warm glow of your house becomes bright, light filling up the night sky as a fire breaks out and the men continue to destroy your home. Taehyung covers your mouth to stifle your cries and holds you close to him, whispering countless apologies. You can only whimper in his arms, your shoulders shake in grief as you watch everything you own go up in flames.

When you first came to this place, you and Taehyung stood out too much for the villagers' liking. You were strangers, you didn’t look like them, and they targeted you constantly for the pettiest of things. But this area was remote so you endured their hateful ways. It didn’t help matters when Taehyung, a much better singer than the locals before him, was offered an audience with the region’s King. Taehyung never made an appearance, letting other singers he befriended attend in his place, hoping to gain some favor with the locals, but it only angered the King. Feeling insulted, he killed the poets. And now, with enemies at both ends, and anger consuming the villagers, Ares wrath scorched your home to the ground.

You’re quiet next to Taehyung. Your feet ache from walking. No horse, no food in days. It’s nightfall and cold, you wear his cloak and shiver still. You walk beside the poet, but he feels oceans away. His usual bright eyes are dull and full of sorrow. You didn’t realize how accustomed you were to his touch until he had stopped. Your body aches to be in his arms, to hold his hand while you walk. You feel loneliness twist around you instead.

It is Taehyung who breaks the silence. He speaks softly, “There is a famous temple of Athena in this city, hopefully we can convince them to let you stay.”

The idea revolts you, pulling at the pit of your stomach. The thought of going back to your old ways, as if it would be a reprieve or something you missed, makes you nauseated.

“No.”

“I thought it would be enough...I-I was naive. I’m truly cursed. I can sing all about love, paint beautiful stories of love’s triumph, but when I cannot give you anything else but my devotion, it’s not enough. I can’t stand to watch you wither away in front of me. You deserve more.”

“The oracle said-”

“What kind of life is this for you?” He stops walking, his voice breaks in his anguish. “I-I’m sorry. I should have never taken you away from safety into this reckless existence. This should have been my burden alone.” Tears fall down his face as he shudders. You reach for him, cup his face in your hands. How can you make him see he’s all you want? He lets you wipe away his tears. You pull his head down to meet yours.

“What kind of life is this? The best life I’ve ever could have wished for. A life full of love. I’d trade everything I have for you.” You brush your lips against his, it stops his tears. His eyes fill with adoration, a blazing intensity that makes your heartbeat quicken.

“Stop this worrying, let’s go.” You grab his hand and pull him along. The silence hangs heavy in the air, the stillness of the night frightens you.

“Sing me a song please.”

“From now on I’ll only sing for you.” Taehyung says his words quietly, but his resolve thunders to the heavens, shaking the course of your lives.

The light of day shines through your open window, it illuminates the thin white fabric pulled over your head and wakes you. The white cloth flitters in the breeze of your bedroom and you catch a peak of the handsome man lying next to you. His dark warm eyes are already open as he watches you stretch your sleepiness away. He lifts his head, pulling the sheet higher, so he can get a better look at you, “Good morning, my beloved.”

Taehyung’s dark hair and tan skin against the glowing white backdrop of your bed sheets makes him look ethereal. You watch him in awe, “Good morning, dear husband.”

Your body feels heavy and rested. Your bare skin is warm against his and the sun heated sheet, the soft fabric pulls over your bodies, everything is so soft and warm.

Taehyung buries his head in your chest, smiling against your skin. “I love you.”

Your fingers play with the curls of his hair. “And I love you.”

Underneath the covers, you create your own little world, away from the responsibilities of your lives, the expectations of the day.

Taehyung runs his lips across your naked chest, kissing, licking, biting all over your body. You giggle at his playful teasing touches. “You’re perfection, so soft and pretty.” He captures your lips in a kiss, moving his mouth against yours slowly as his body rests between your legs. His hands find your waist and pull at your skin as he explores your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moans.

Your legs wrap around his torso, you can feel him growing against your slick core. Taehyung's fingers find yours and he intertwines them together, pulling your arms above your head. He nibbles on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

“You smell so good,” he moans, “you taste so good.” His low baritone voice sends shivers down your body. You whimper, breathless from his caresses. He thrusts in slowly, rolling his body into you, slow and steady until you’re both feverish from mounting pleasure. “What do you want, my love?”

“Just you, please, I want all of you.”

He rolls you over so your body is on top of him. “You have me forever. Now show me how much you want me.” Your playful lover bites his lower lip, pulling on your hips to make you move against him. Your body moves up and down his length, Taehyung’s moans and devastating lustful looks spur you on to please him.

You roll your hips faster, so close to release. Taehyung notices your frenzied state and grabs your hips to hold you still, thrusting up into you instead. His hard length fills you up so deliciously. His grip on you is searing yet soft, you focus on his body below you, his tight muscles and golden skin. “I-I’m close.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

The room fills with sinful noises as your bodies converge again and again and you cry out in euphoria. Taehyung stills inside you as you reach your high, mesmerized by the way your body twist in pleasure in his arms.

Taehyung lays your trembling body down against the soft sheets of your bed, grinding his hips into you as you continue to pulse around him. “Eyes open, look at me my love.”

You struggle with his command, but hold his gaze as best you can, his physique shines with sweat and his hungry eyes roam over your spent body, the erotic way he looks at you ignites the desire in between your legs once again.

He’s so close to release. Taehyung quickens his pace, making you tighten around him, senses overloaded. You moan, encouraging him to keep going.

“You’ll let me fill you up? Have my baby?” His long fingers find your sensitive nub, applying pressure and making you cry out.

“Y-yes!” You can only feel blinding pleasure as Taehyung thrusts into you deeper.

“How beautiful you’ll be, glowing and pregnant with my baby growing inside of you.” He groans. Your stomach tightens as his cock swells, pressure filling you before you feel yourself snapping again. Taehyung’s own release following, your tightness too much for him to handle.

You hold him close to you as you both work to steady your breathing, “We have to start baking soon,” you softly remind him, “before the market opens.”

Taehyung cuddles closer to you, “It’s okay, they’ll wait for my bread, it is the best in the city.” He grins, kneading at your breasts with his large hands. You laugh, relaxing into his embrace.

“Okay okay, we’ll stay a bit longer.”

Your children gather around you in prayer. You take in a ragged breath. Your bedridden aging body feels heavy. Soft light begins to cloud the edges of your vision as you listen to the wistful voices of your sons and daughters shower you with love. Taehyung's fingers brush against your wrinkled digits.

“My beautiful wife, how I missed you.”

You call out his name. Your eldest daughter soothes you, brushing her hand over your forehead. You thought you would be afraid once teetering on the edge of your own mortality, but with him here, holding you again, fear is unable to reach you. You’re already so full of love.

Taehyung comes into your focus, still beautiful in his old age, still the gentle man you love, he places a feather light kiss on your temple. Relief washes through you, the currents pull the burdens on your soul away, and you feel light, floating between worlds.

“I’ve waited for you,” Taehyung’s deep voice fills your mind, “Are you ready to travel with me again?” You know your answer, innate as the love you felt when you first met him.

You take one final breath, letting go and following Taehyung again.

---

Your eyes flutter open. You’re lying face down on the hotel bed. As your eyes begin to focus, you are met with the singer’s face next to yours. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads.

“What happened?” you whisper.

“I don’t know, I think we passed out, I woke up right before you opened your eyes.”

He looks at you, still beaming, a boxy smile plastered on his face. You try not to smile back. He shouldn’t be this happy!

“That wasn’t bad. You made it sound bad.” he pouts.

You hum, looking at your still intertwined fingers. You study the smooth skin of your hands, the wrinkles and veins you’d seen now only a fleeting memory. You feel tired.

Taehyung feels like he’s just woken up from a long dream. Memories of last night feel far away, more distant than memories presumably lived centuries ago. He focuses on the only constant, you.

“Do you regret it?”

You let out a deep exhale, you move your hand to trace his cheek, his nose, his eyebrow; he watches you quietly. You flick him on the forehead.

Taehyung yelps, looking quite betrayed by your actions. You smile, and his expression switches easily back to happiness. “It’s okay, you don’t have to admit I’m right,” he teases.

You let out a huff, “Doesn’t it bother you? It should bother you! Why is this happening...it’s exhausting...”

Taehyung wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to his body. “I don’t care why,” he mumbles into your hair. Your breath catches in your throat as he cuddles closer to you.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Your heart pounds. You try to stay calm. “No,” you whisper.

His arms tighten around your frame. His warmth envelopes you, it feels like there’s fire inside you, burning down all your apprehensions.

“So this is how it feels. I thought I understood Jungkook. But this is....” you feel his body vibrate as he laughs to himself. “It’s not something you can put into words, right? I understand what he means, about not wanting to let you go.”

Closing your eyes you can picture yourself being in a different place, a different land, another time, you let yourself relax into Taehyung’s embrace. You can feel his hands caress your body, his long fingers travel to the back of your neck and down your spine and the curve of your back.

“I know I’ve never hugged you, but it feels like I’ve done this a hundred times before. Like you belong with me.” His voice is low in your ears. You try to ignore how you feel, how true his words are, but you can't.

“Right? At least admit that to me, y/n.” He whispers. His fingers dig into your skin as he pulls you even closer.

“Hm?”

“You belong with me.”

“I-” A knock on your door makes you break away from him. Taehyung flops on his back, sighing. You open the door to the youngest and oldest members smiling at you.

“Good morning!” You internally wince at your unusually high voice. Jungkook looks over your shoulder, noticing movement inside your room. He sees Taehyung sitting cross legged on your bed, leaning back on his palms with a grin on his face. Jungkook’s doe eyes go wide as his head turns slowly over to the eldest, who then mirrors his expression. Their surprised faces would be comical to you if you didn’t feel responsible for their reactions.

Everyone’s silence is making your stomach twist into knots. You clear your throat. “I touched his hand, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Unable to meet their eyes, you feel the need to add, “That’s all that happened. So...okay, let’s go!”

---

Everyone is sitting in the penthouse, around the coffee table filled with plates piled high with different breakfast foods. Some are sitting on the floor, some on the couch with plates in their laps. Jin ushers you next to an open spot next to J-Hope and sits on your other side. Taehyung and Jungkook have been quietly talking behind you and find seats in the empty gaps.

“The food here is really good,” Hoseok says in between bites as Jin serves you a plate. He smiles brightly at you. Hoseok wishes he wasn't so apprehensive with you. He aches to get to know you, learn all your quirks, learn about your childhood and what makes you happy so he can shower you with more of it; and what makes you sad so he can make sure you never experience it again. But he's too scared, Hoseok feels too much guilt.

His hair is messy and sticking up in weird angles, you resist the urge to fix it. ‘Just keep your hands to yourself, y/n. He’s not your friend,’ you chant in your head. You look around at the men, cozy and warm in their group. You realize how much of an outsider you are.

“Here,” Jin places a triangle of sweet toast on your already overflowing plate. You eat quietly while the members talk to themselves and check their phones. It feels nice, like a big family dinner on the holidays. You watch Hoseok take a selfie with his phone, a minute later you feel your phone vibrate with a notification.

“You posted to twitter just now?” Hoseok notices the panic in your voice as you magnify the picture to make sure there’s no item or reflection that might incriminate you.

“Err yes, why?” he scoots closer to you to see what you’re doing.

“I just-didn’t think it was that easy.” You scroll quickly through your timeline now that you’ve made sure you’re safe, Jin and Hoseok both moving in your space to stare at your phone much to your dismay and you think it’s time to put it away after the third photo of Namjoon’s toned arms pop up on your feed.

After stuffing yourselves full, the time has come to address the elephant in the room. The members take turns reliving the moments of last night, and in Taehyung’s case this morning, explaining everything so the group could all remain on the same page.

Namjoon should have been upset, once Taehyung shocked the rest of the group by speaking, but being in the same predicament himself, he was not surprised to learn Taehyung sought you out, he had barely slept toying with the idea himself.

You don’t talk much, just confirm certain details. You noticed how the men glossed over the most tragic parts of your visions, and you don’t care to interject. You learned new things as well...

Jimin finding his way back to your farm, only to find it destroyed and you gone, and unable to live with himself after that. You can’t meet each other's eyes when you tell him your own version of events.

Jin wanted to propose, he had picked out a ring, a bright blue gem like the ocean.

Taehyung had convinced you he stopped singing as a bard because he grew to hate it, but he confessed, to your suspicion, that wasn’t the case at all. He promised you he never once regretted his decision.

Hoseok took the job as a DJ because when you were younger you were obsessed with your local station, swooning over the DJ's voice and always calling in to win contests for you and Hoseok. He always had an affinity for music, but mostly he did it for you, to impress you.

Yoongi almost didn’t admit he had never really left your side, how he never stopped protecting you. That had shocked you the most. Your heart screams to comfort him, to comfort all of them.

Jungkook excitedly tells you everything he had planned for your escape, he used his life’s savings to find you and him a new home far away. He tells you how if you both had succeeded you would have been so happy with him.

It felt weird. All these lives inside you itching to burst through, you didn’t feel like yourself anymore. You meet the idol’s eyes sitting next to you, and when he looks at you so tenderly, you wonder who he really sees.

“Yoongi’s life was the coolest.” The quiet rapper keeps his head down, only nodding in acknowledgement at Jimin’s comment.

“Well I liked mine,” Taehyung declares. “Which one was your favorite, y/n?”

“I’m not answering that,” you mutter, growing hot under the sudden attention.

“Hmm I don’t see a connection.” Namjoon hums. “Apart from y/n.”

“Should there be one?”

“I’m assuming nothing strange like this has ever happened to you before?” Namjoon turns to you. You shake your head. “Have you ever had dreams, um, of us?”

“No! I mean-what? No.” You pull the neck of Jungkook’s hoodie over your mouth to hide your embarrassment, with no intention on admitting anything. What does dreaming have to do with this?

Namjoon stays silent in thought. Should he tell the group now?

“I should probably go now.” It’s no longer morning after talking for so long. You have a life to go back to; chores, work. You hope being back in your home will make you feel more like the old you, before everything you thought you knew was turned upside down.

Jungkook stands up, “Why!”

“I have work in the morning? Not everyone is a famous world class musician,” You try to keep your tone light, but you’re bothered.

His lips press into a tight line. “I know, just…”

You have responsibilities, a job to go to tomorrow, you don’t want to entertain the wild fantasies arising in your mind at the way he looks at you so pleadingly to stay. “I can’t stay here all day.” You stand up as well, the members’ eyes dart back and forth between you and Jungkook, like they were watching fighters in a match.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Jungkook blurts out.

You close your eyes and rub at your temples. It’s becoming too hard, to keep pushing these feelings away, you cannot allow yourself to feel things for these men. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What do you want from me?”

Jungkook speaks louder, “Do you not want to be with me?”

“I’m-that’s not-it’s not that simple. You don’t even know me! Do you want to be with me-”

“Yes.”

You let out an incredulous laugh and look around the room, but the men look starkly serious. You focus on the youngest again, raising your voice so everyone can hear you clearly. “I’m a nobody. You don’t know me. Name one thing you know about me other than my name...name my favorite color! If you can name my favorite color I’ll sta-”

Jungkook names your favorite color. His eyes piercing through you. Your breath catches in your throat.

‘How did he-wait...was it her favorite color too?’ Tears well up in your eyes. “...I’m not her.”

Jungkook winces at your words, “You’re right, I don’t know who you are right now. But you are...I know you are...the woman I fell in love with. What are you so afraid of?”

You look down at the ground to your feet. You can only shake your head at him and keep your mouth shut so you don’t start crying in front of them. You feel a hand wrap around yours and you already know who it is. You yank your hand away. If Yoongi is hurt, he doesn’t show it to you.

“I’m sorry, I know my life is difficult, that I’m a ‘famous musician,’ but isn’t it better than a poor stable worker? Can’t you see how meeting you again, this might be, maybe...fate?”

A pained laugh escapes your throat, letting go of the pressure you built up in your forced silence. “Oh my god. This is not happening.” Yes, maybe you can finally admit what happened was real, but what does that change? It’s not like you can run away with him in this life either, the entire world recognizes him now.

Your hands hold your head, your nails dig into your skin to concentrate on anything other than Jungkook’s continuing pleas. It’s just laughable to think this idol is begging you to stay with him. A sick thought invades your mind that maybe you’re doomed to repeat your transgressions. The memory of his bleeding body flashes in your mind, you’re not meant to be with them, how could you be? They’re the most famous singers in the world, yeah, you are afraid.

Jimin tries to calm down the youngest, “Kookie, you can’t force her to stay here…”

Jungkook is beside himself. He feels you slipping through his fingers again, away from him and even if it’s different now, it feels too sickeningly similar.

“Hyung please, you’ve been with non-idols, please talk to her...please!” Jungkook is crying, begging Jin.

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his cries. Hoseok rushes over to you, but you scramble away from his touch. You know you’ll break the second you let him comfort you.

Jin’s heart is breaking; for Jungkook, for you, for himself. He doesn’t know what to say, he’s just afraid as Jungkook of letting you go. Finally Namjoon decides to take control of the situation, the only one with a clear head. “Everyone leave. Now. Y/n deserves her space, and we still have four more days left in this city. Alright go!” The boys pull each other away, holding onto each other for strength, trusting their leader.

Yoongi pats a crying Jungkook on the back, “It’s okay, Joon will convince her.”

---

Your eyes hurt from crying, puffy and dark. You feel pathetic. Your head is pounding, you lean against the car window as you watch the blur of the city go past.

“Here.” Namjoon sits across from you, leaving the middle seat open. He hands you a cell phone.

You hold the sleek new model in your hand, “What is this?”

“It’s a hand phone,” the idol says teasingly.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. “What is this for?”

“For you, to contact us.” Namjoon shrugs, “If you want to.” You sit in silence as his driver takes you home.

“You haven’t asked to touch my hand. Do you not want to?” You ask, sneaking a glance at the rapper.

“Of course I want to,” he speaks softly. “It’s all I’ve thought about since I saw you. But you’ve gone through a lot. I’ll let you decide if it’s something you want to do, and when you’re ready I’ll be here.”

You bite your lip. “For four more days.”

Namjoon smiles, his dimples on display. “Yes, I’m guessing you didn’t get tickets for the next city?”

“No, I wish. Those fanmeet tickets weren’t exactly cheap.”

Namjoon chuckles softly, “Ahh sorry.”

“Well, I did get a free breakfast with BTS, lucky me,” you hum. He nods, his eyes cast down. You hope he didn’t catch any bitterness in your tone, under any circumstance you would be dying of happiness.

You let the silence envelope you again, as you start to recognize the streets, you’re getting closer to home and to being left alone. You sigh, running your hands over your face, “Oh god, this is a mess.”

“I don’t think it is. I think there’s a reason for everything. And I think there’s a reason why this happened to you. To all of us.”

“What could that reason be?” You ask him genuinely, maybe the genius idol sees something you don’t.

“I don’t know. I do know it’s lonely being an idol. It’s hard to love, to find someone to love you and not break under the constant pressure.”

“I don’t know if I can be that person.”

“Well to me, it sounds like you’ve already been that person.” You want to scoff, but the sincere look in his eyes makes you stop. The GPS signals your arrival home.

The air is heavy as you gather up the strength to leave, “I will message you later, I promise. Just give me some time.”

You watch the expensive van leave your entrance. You couldn’t see through the dark tinted windows, but you had a feeling the idol was watching you, so you held yourself together and waved goodbye.

---

You know you should have just gone inside your home, but you had something to do first, it was driving you mad not knowing. So now you stand in front of a door that’s not your own still in clothes that are not your own. You send a text of your arrival and knock.

“Hi!” You pretend you aren’t exhausted, “I just have to try something-”

He looks at you dumbfounded as you grab his hand and start shaking it. Nothing. ‘Of course, just wonderful.’ You switch to two hands, shaking more forcefully.

“What’s going on...” his voice is shaky from the intense movements of your greeting. ‘Why is nothing happening, why is it only them, Ugh, why!’

“Earth to y/n...” why why why why.

He grabs your arms to stop your movements “Hey, are you okay? You never responded to my calls, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you look into his concerned eyes. It feels like eons ago, whatever budding feelings you had for him. Why.

“Do you want to come in?”

“No, I better go.”

“You came all the way over here and you don’t want to tell me how last night went? You meet BTS and now you’re acting all crazy! You didn’t decide to leave me for one of them, did you?” your friend jokes.

“Ah ha aha…”

He raises his eyebrow at you. “I have work tomorrow...I just wanted to see you.” It’s the truth, you’re not lying. “I’m sorry for not responding last night. I’ll see you later?”

He gives you a kiss goodbye. ‘Oh no.’ It all feels so wrong.

---

The first day, you send Jungkook an apology. He sends you a ton of voice memos and selfies, just happy to talk to you again. You respond with light replies, trying not to dig your hole any deeper.

The second day, that night you break down. You send all the boys a simple “hi”. Yoongi, Jin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Namjoon all respond. They send messages about their day. Jin sends you a picture of his food. Yoongi says he misses you. Against your better judgement you tell him you miss him too. Suspiciously, after your reply Jungkook and Taehyung message that they miss you seconds apart from one another. You tell them you miss them too, when Taehyung says he wants to see you, you’re too scared to respond.

The third day you stay busy with work. Hoseok sends you a picture of the sunset, his first message to you, nothing else. You wait until the night comes and send a picture of the moon from your window, and ‘Goodnight. Sweet dreams.’

The fourth day the pressure becomes too much. You hover over the call button all day but you can’t do it. By dinner time, you get a call from Jungkook. You try to swallow down the tears you’ve cried all day and sound cheerful when you answer.

“I just wanted to call before we get on the plane,” he says.

‘It’s too late. No.’ you think. “I’m sorry, tell Namjoon I’m so sorry. I should have seen him before you all left, I should have...”

“Don’t worry y/n. No one blames you.”

“That doesn’t mean what I did was okay. I wanted to see you all again.”

“You did?” The way his voice becomes more cheerful tugs at your heart. “You can make it up to us by talking more. Can I video chat with you later?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, got to go...Bye Beautiful.” He sounds like he’s in a much better mood, you can hear the teasing lilt to his words.

Weeks go by. You keep your promise. It’s easier communicating through the screen of your phone. You can imagine them to be online friends, people who are not famous. Some conversations stay light, some become deeper. They pry information from your life, learning more and more about you, and you feel yourself getting attached to their morning greetings and late night calls. Meanwhile, with family and friends you try to act like everything is normal, keeping this weird new world hidden, but you’re still constantly haunted by your memories with them. Your past lives play through your mind all day long and replace your dreams. Everything else felt so wrong now, so not you anymore, so gray. You feel like a bad friend, a bad daughter, a cheater.

---

Namjoon wakes up, groaning, his body still heavy from sleep. He quickly changes into a pair of slacks and a button down shirt. He chooses a forest green vest to wear, like the plants in his room. He runs pomade in his hair before heading downstairs to get ready for the morning.

He unlocks the door to his bookstore, before he can turn around the door opens with a loud ding. You walk in and make a beeline to the center table. Namjoon laughs, “Back so soon?”

“Of course, I’m so bored! My crops won’t be harvestable for another couple of months. Any other recommendations? I loved your last one.” You smile brightly at the bookstore owner, he’s always so kind to you and doesn’t make you feel like an outsider when you visit. If you could, you would spend all day in his store, talking about the latest novels and picking each other's brains. “Before I forget! For you...” You hand him two jars of homemade jam.

You're his favorite customer. And if Namjoon is being honest, he has a crush on you. He pulls a book from high above a shelf, a pristine copy. “This one, it should keep you busy.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in the large leather bound novel, gold letters adorning it’s spine. “How much?”

“Don’t worry, this one time I’ll take jam as payment.”

“No, that was a present,” you pout.

“Well, then this is a present for you.”

“Sir, if you don’t let me pay, I will throw a fit! I need you to stay in business.” It’s always like this with him, you’ll be damned if he doesn’t let you show him how much you appreciate him.

Namjoon laughs, “Alright alright. Then promise me you’ll come visit as soon as you finish.”

You nod, holding your new purchase close to your heart. He watches you leave, his eyes lingering on your body. You hold onto his book like a prized trophy. It’s another thing he loves about you, the way you treat things with so much care. His eyes still linger on you as you stand outside his shop. He sees a stranger run into you, you stumble back and almost fall, he rushes to the door to help you but stops in his tracks as the man's face comes into focus. “Jimin?”

Namjoon wakes up startled. He runs his hands through his hair, disturbed at what he saw. He’s covered in sweat, inside the cold room of his bedroom. Every night he’s had dreams of you, but this one was different. Should he go talk to someone about it? Who would believe him? He feels like every day he’s slowly getting closer to losing his mind. Today is going to be a long day full of press junkets. He rubs at his eyes trying to forget what he saw, what he felt.

---

Today you decide to call Namjoon. Usually, you’ll wait until one of the members decides to call you, but you had to talk to him before you lost your nerve. He picks up on the second ring. “Hey, I can’t talk for that long, is everything okay?” you can hear how busy it is in the background.

“No it’s my fault! I’m sorry, I’m an idiot, of course you would be busy. Call me when you’re free.”

“No! I have some time, we can talk.” You hear him shuffling to a quieter location.

Are you going to regret this? You take a deep breath. “I want to see you again. I-I don’t want to forget about what happened and go back to my life like everything is normal when it's not. You were right. I’m sorry...I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” You wait for Namjoon’s response, the silence fills you with anxiety. You would completely understand if he brushes you off now.

“I’ll figure something out. Okay y/n?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“See you.”

That night Namjoon sends you a series of text messages with instructions. Your eyes go wide over the new information. You look around your home, you know you should feel some sadness, but only excitement bubbles inside you. ‘I guess this is it.’ How are you going to explain this to your family and friends, to your boyfriend? A special internship in South Korea, you guess is how you’ll start.

---Three Months Later---

Namjoon splashes cold water on his face, he looks up into his bathroom mirror and blinks at his reflection. Namjoon’s eyes are not his.

Namjoon wakes up yelling. He falls back into bed, catching his breath. He checks the time. You should be on the plane right now. The idol rapper has always appreciated the wealth he’s accumulated over the years, but he feels especially grateful in this moment, now that he has found himself in a position of power large enough to secure you with a translation job within his own company.

---

A man holds a sign with your name on it. You walk towards him, your suitcase ticking on the airport concrete as it rolls on the ground behind you. You spent the last three months preparing for this, studying over language books every night and saying goodbye to family and friends. Your parents didn’t understand your sudden change of career, but you promised them the pay was better and it wouldn’t be forever. Your boyfriend was not so understanding, especially when you wouldn’t give him any details as to why you’re leaving the county. You and him weren’t even that serious to begin with but the breakup was messy.

You followed the driver’s instructions once he dropped you off in front of a very posh looking complex, entering key codes, up the elevator, down the hall, until you stood in front of the correct numbered door. You use the key he gave you to unlock the large door and walk into a massive apartment. Every member is already inside, waiting for you. You feel relief wash over you, you can’t help but smile at the group. They cheer at your arrival, you notice balloons and a makeshift welcome sign. The mood is definitely much more relaxed from the last time you all gathered together.

“Is this your place?” You ask as Jungkook takes your suitcase.

“No, this is your apartment.”

Your eyes go wide, “This is way too big!”

Taehyung jumps up and gives you a hug. The months you talked made you feel much more comfortable around them, but you still weren’t prepared for the rush of emotions that filled you once in his embrace again.

“It’s the smallest unit in this building,” Yoongi lets you know.

“And I’m guessing I can’t go to another building.”

“Our dorm is in this one,” The youngest member explains.

“How…” You take a deep breath, eyeing Jungkook up and down, “...convenient.” You take a seat with them on the ridiculously huge couch, next to Yoongi and Jin.

You sigh, stretching your sore jet lagged muscles. “Need to go to the bathroom?” Yoongi whispers at you teasingly.

You snort, his words taking you out of your worries. “Funny,” you mutter.

The eldest helps you fill out a stack of forms for your employment while the rest set plates of takeout on the living room table. You eat your first meal in Korea together. Sitting together, laughing together, you feel better than you have in months. It’s that feeling you get when you’ve finally completed a puzzle, placing the last piece in its place. You feel complete.

Taehyung’s words pull you from your thoughts.

“So y/n, when are you gonna hold Joon’s hand?”

“Oh, um…”

“You came all the way to Korea for him, right!” Taehyung teases.

“She doesn’t have to...” Namjoon murmurs.

“Oh c’mon! You can’t tell me you haven’t been going crazy waiting!”

“Yeah, I agree with Tae!” Jimin laughs.

“Do it!” Jungkook cheers.

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” The youngest members are chanting at the pair of you. You feel the heat rise in your face. You had planned on it, you wanted to find a way to get Namjoon alone, but now with all the attention on you, you feel apprehensive. You look over to Namjoon who looks equally as embarrassed. ‘I don’t want to do this,’ the thought screams in your head.

It has been months, Namjoon has waited for this moment. Now that he’s being put on the spot, he’s apprehensive. Ever since his bandmates touched you, they have acted differently, it might not be noticeable to anyone around them, but Namjoon noticed. Would he change too? Before he can yell at his bandmates, you stand up and walk over to his seat. “They aren’t going to stop,” You whisper, holding out your hand. He sighs and stands up.

“So?” Jin asks when he notices the lack of reaction from both of you as you grip each other's hands.

“Um, nothing is happening.” You stare at the rapper, but his attention is on the place where your hands meet, brows furrowed in disbelief.

“This doesn’t make sense..” He starts shaking your hand up and down as if that might help, it reminds you of the night he dropped you off, and you know exactly how he feels.

“Maybe it’s because I’m jet lagged or something? We could try again later...” you try to soothe the rapper but you can tell he is growing more and more upset with each passing moment, and your arm feels like it's going to dislodge from your shoulder the more he shakes.

The members have all gone silent.

“Maybe you don’t have a past life together?” Hoseok places his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder to stop his movements. No one expected this.

“No, that’s not-we have to-I know it!” Namjoon tries to stay calm but his voice is full of panic.

“Maybe it had something to do with that time, the planets aligning or something?” Jimin says. Is this your fault? Because you were too scared. What have you done? You’re rethinking everything now, you shouldn’t have come here.

“No.” Namjoon is right, he knows it, “that’s not it...” It doesn’t make sense, he knows there’s a connection between you and him. He lets the confession tumble out of his mouth before he can properly think. “Your name, I knew it! How would I know your name?”

You look at him confused, “What do you mean?”

Namjoon bites his tongue. He lets go of you. He blinks his eyes to get rid of tears threatening to spill. The mood is gone and everyone is silent. You feel horrible. Somehow this is your fault, you know it.

“Joon...” The eldest member calls out to him.

“I-I need some air.” Namjoon breaks away from the group.

“Wait!”

---

OOOOooo you had a whole ass boyfriend and you went and tongued Yoongi, scandalous. Looks like poor Joonie got the spiritual cockblock. Should I explain myself lol or do you like drawing your own conclusions?

Oh! Fun fact, the two sentences were this: Your eyes flutter open, you’re lying face down on the hotel bed. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads. That’s what I had to go on T_T hah. Anyways let me know what you think <3

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fantasy au #bts soulmate au #bts historical au #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #ot7 x reader #reader x ot7 #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff

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drwcn · 3 years

Text

《midnight sun》 — # 13

Summary of questions: does lan wangji believe jiang yan is wei wuxian and jiang cheng's daughter? does wei wuxian know lan wangji thinks jiang yan is jiang cheng's daughter? Answer: worse. wei wuxian thinks lan wangji knows jiang yan is their daughter. lan wangji doesn't know shit. LOL.

(i recommend listening to [x] for this snippet)

When she opened her eyes, it was Jingshi and a guqin's melancholic tune that greeted her. She had half-hoped (and half-feared) that she would be back at Lotus Pier again.

But back then, did you really believe in me?

Lan Wangji did not respond, and so they fell into a silence. Wei Wuxian rested there, propped up by pillows, staring into the darkened woods around Lan Wangji's home. She was still in Mo Xuanyu's clothes, but his macabre steel mask sat on the bed-side stand.

Wei Wuxian touched her own face gingerly. Thirteen years — a lifetime has gone by. There were secrets she had taken to her death, but this time around, she no longer wished to hide.

Earlier that day, she had not seen Yan'er amongst the Jiang disciples at Mt Dafan.

Weren't you the one who killed her yourself, Jiang-zongzhu?!

Lan Jingyi's words had reminded her of what death had obscured - the horrifying fact that she had left her only child in the custody of the brother who had willingly taken her life.

Heavens...

Suddenly, it no longer seemed important that she continued to keep this secret from Lan Wangji. She had to know that Yan'er was safe. At once.

"Lan Zhan, there's a person, a junior, I want to ask you about -"

"Jiang Yan."

Lan Wangji lifted his eyes from his guqin to meet hers from across the room. There was... hurt, disappointment, and something entirely too deep to comprehend inside those eyes that kept her company in her dreams during her years at the Burial Mount.

Wei Wuxian felt the heart she carried in her throat plunge to the pit of her stomach.

"You know."

It was not a question.

"Mn."

"How long have you known? Did Jiang Cheng -?"

"He did not tell me anything. He didn't need to. The first time I met her, I knew. The child bears a great likeness to you."

"I -" She clutched the blanket that covered her, fighting the urge to escape under it as one hand curled around her belly subconsciously. "I..."

Wei Wuxian! Stop, stop pushing, stop trying, you're dying damn it! Listen to me, you're dying! Wen Qing's lovely face floated into her mind, one of many souls who'd been let down by her arrogance and pride, a ghost of her guilt.

In the end, Wei Wuxian supposed she had let Lan Wangji down too. All those men who had wanted her for her power, for the Stygian Amulet, circling the newfound Lotus Pier like sharks in the water...she may not have lost her virtues to them, but perhaps she did lose sight of herself along the way. That day in the forest, at Phoenix Mountain, what a selfish impulse it had been to lay claims to the untouchable Hanguang-jun.

If she were fair to him, she would have drank the medicine Wen Qing offered her. Give him a clean break, release him, absolve him. The minute she had pulled Lan Wangji down onto the grassy meadow and wrapped him between her legs, she knew she'd be tainting him. Yet still, she had held on so tight and begged him for everything he had. When he gave himself to her, with fervor and faith, she had greedily consumed him: his first touch, his first kiss, his first release...his first child.

She had taken it all and gave nothing back. Now, when nothing could be changed or salvaged, she would not assume that he would ever forgive her. And if he did not wish to be burdened by the consequences of her actions and desires...well, she understood that too.

Wei Wuxian, please, forsake the baby, choose yourself. Wen Qing had clutched her hand and pleaded through her scared and desperate tears. Give me permission, give me permission to save you!

No, Qing-jiejie, I can - I can do it! Lan Zhan - Lan Zhan -

Lan Wangji is not here, Wei Wuxian! It's just you. Just you, do you hear?! Please, please don't -

Her heart was not broken. Heartbreak was a privilege of her last life.

"Is Yan'er well?"

Wei Wuxian was fully aware of her every debt and sin, but they were hers and hers alone. Jiang Yan should not be the one left to pay for a mother whom she had never known.

"Yes. She lives at Lotus Pier. Jiang Wanyin is very good to her. He raised her as his first disciple and her named her Jiang Yueqian. She is very bright, and a strong cultivator. He's very proud of her; as you would be too once you meet."

And you, Wei Wuxian wanted to ask. Are you proud of her too?

Externally, Wei Wuxian let out a breath of relief. "Jiang Cheng kept his word to me after all."

Lan Wangji's face seemed to fall at those words, though that could easily have been a trick of the light.

"Wei Ying, you and Jiang Wanyin …"

Wei Wuxian frowned. "What about me and Jiang Cheng?"

Lan Wangji stroked the strings on his guqin contemplatively, mulling over his words for a moment before carefully asking, "Would you like to... go back to Lotus Pier?"

"After shijie's death, you think I would still be welcomed back at Lotus Pier?"

"But you are Jiang Yan's mother. Surely -"

Wei Wuxian shook her head. "If Jiang Yan is as you said - the first disciple of Yunmeng Jiang - then she is an orphan, and her mother is dead. I am the resurrected Yiling Laozu; I cannot be her mother. For her sake, I should have stayed dead. Since that is not the case, then at the least, I shall stay away."

Lan Wangji said nothing in response.

Wei Wuxian closed her eyes. She did not cry.

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #lanyan #midnight sun #ly13 #corie fics #cql ficlet #i recommend listening to if only life were as we first met while reading this.

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nicekillchanceballs · 3 years

Text

I Might ◑

Pairing: timeskip!Akaashi Keiji x gn!reader Genre: Hurt/comfort, a little bit of romance and fluff? Synopsis: You just wanted your coffee. Instead, you got a stranger together with your drink. Word Count: ~3.7k A/N: I never thought this would be so long please don’t get bored. I also apologize for any grammatical errors, I am so rusty, lol. This is my first work in my Love Me ◑ series. Thank you!! -- sloth 🦥 Listen to I Might ◑ here.

It’s hard to vanish without a trace And whose idea was this in the first place? I might, I might, I might Fake my death tonight So we can start a whole new life

You always have been a regular of this coffee shop you're in right now. Ever since you were a university student, up until now that you're a writer for a lifestyle magazine, you always make sure to visit this café at least every 3 months to unwind and relax -- even if it meant that you will have to starve yourself for days so that you can have the money to treat yourself at this hidden gem of a place.

You ordered your usual. Upon receiving your drink and pastry, you took a seat and table on the balcony outside overlooking the lake below. You are the only person here because the other customers are inside the shop utilizing the fireplace and heater. It is kind of chilly, luckily, you sport a thick cardigan on. You took a deep breath and the scent of coffee, cinnamon, and pine trees helped in calming your nerves down.

As you took a sip of your caramel macchiato, you are mentally listing the reasons why this place became your go-to spot. First, it is located in a place up in the mountains, so it is very cold and only a few people are braving to go here. Second, the coffee and pastries this place offers deliciously hits your coffee-loving sweet tooth. For you, no amount of Starbucks or Tim Hortons can compete with this café. Lastly, and the most important, this place witnessed and cured you of your misfortunes and depression. Every time something bad happens, being the introvert that you are, you tend to go off the grid to escape and do your "soul searching", and this place helped you with that.

You brought out your journal and pen, scribbling random thoughts that fill your overactive brain. Your friend, who is a psychologist, advised you that whenever you feel overwhelmed, you can write the feelings or things that seem to engulf you. “It somehow will help you in releasing your frustrations instead of bottling it up,'' she said.

You looked up and admired the view this place has to offer. The sky is painted pastel orange with hues of blue and purple. You noticed that fog is already forming below, hugging the pine trees around the lake. The lagoon is calm as ever, reflecting the already setting sun. You smiled as you basked in peace and contentment.

However, your tranquility was kind of disturbed when the balcony glass doors opened and a tall man with short, black, tousled hair occupied a seat two tables away from you. He looked like he stepped out of a men's fashion magazine -- he was wearing black-rimmed eyeglasses, a beige turtleneck, black jeans, a long brown coat, and a satchel sling bag. He then settled his tray with his own coffee and pastry on his table. You immediately turned your head away, afraid that this beautiful man may have caught you staring. You felt heat from your cheeks forming as you carried on scrawling in your journal. He's so beautiful, you thought.

However, as you continued to write, you remembered the face of your boss making your blood slightly boil. Well, the reason you are here is because of the stress in your workplace -- asshole superiors, some good-for-nothing co-workers, shitty salary, unreasonable work hours, and your list goes on. Once I gained my needed years of experience, I will immediately resign, I swear on the grave of that ungrateful boss bastard. This anger made you forget about the pretty man meters away from you.

Little did you know that he is also staring at you. He noticed your furrowed eyebrows and the intensity of you jotting away at your notebook. He also noticed your reddened cheeks and the breath vapor that formed as you huffed in exasperation. He was not the one to be observant towards strangers (it is only his friends that he is concerned about), but you have this certain aura that entices him. He smiled as he gulped his black coffee, pulled out his laptop from his bag, opened it, and checked some emails.

You estimated that ten minutes have already passed and you are still writing, anger somehow dissipating when suddenly you heard a loud "Hey, hey, hey, can we talk to the manager?” inside the coffee shop. You sighed because now, your peace is totally disrupted. You whipped your head to look at the commotion inside and you saw a tall man with spiky gray hair and black streaks wearing a black hoodie and jeans. That loud guy was accompanied by another taller man with messy, spiky black hair wearing a white t-shirt tucked in his slacks. The store manager then approached them. What’s with very tall, beautiful people today wanting coffee? You thought.

Shrugging, you looked again at your notebook. Without thinking, you stole a glance towards the direction of the man seated meters away from you. You saw that he was pale and his eyes were wide, frozen in shock. His gaze fell upon you, realizing that you were looking at him. He immediately scrambled from his seat and briskly walked towards you. You instinctively panicked. What is happening?!

He stopped beside your seat and he instantly crouched down, as if hiding from something. You looked down at him, your eyes also a notch bigger than normal from shock. He then softly whispered, “Under no circumstances you will tell anyone, especially them --” he motioned towards the two men inside the shop -- “that I am here. Please.” His emerald eyes are practically begging you. Hypnotized by him, you just nodded. “I’ll just hide in the comfort room, just knock four times when they are gone.” He said and then clambered away from you, making his way towards the bathroom.

You took a deep breath and sighed loudly. You are very confused as to why the man was hiding. Is he a serial killer? Are the two tall men inside detectives or something? Or are they kidnappers? Hitmen? Is the pretty boy gonna be abducted? Your mind was in overdrive. You thought of just packing up and leaving the establishment, but you sympathize with the man you just spoke with. You don’t know why, but you can relate to him.

Your musings are interrupted as the lights in the balcony lit up. Oh, the sun has already set. You glanced at your wristwatch and it was already 6:30 PM. You heard the balcony doors open and the tall, black-haired man entered, with the gray-and-black haired man following suit. Oh, shit, they are here to question me.

“Hi.” The man with black hair smiled at you. “I am Kuroo, and the noisy one there is Bokuto.”

Bokuto is smiling widely, walking towards you but is distracted by the view of the city skyline. He ran and stood beside the balcony railings. “Man, it is beautiful and cold here in Miyagi!”

Kuroo scratched his head, “I apologize for my loud friend, but have you seen a man this tall ---” he gestured his hand just near his temples, demonstrating the height of the man you spoke with earlier -- “he has green eyes and black-rimmed eyeglasses.”

“Yes, yes, he looks preppy,” Bokuto said as he finally walked towards your seat.

You cleared your throat. You have this habit of clearing your throat when you are nervous. “No, I haven’t seen anyone with that description.” You lied as you nervously sip your now cold coffee.

“Oh really?” Bokuto pouted, deep in thought. He then looked at Kuroo, pointing at the other table. “That looks like his laptop and bag.”

You almost choked on your drink as you realized that the man left his things at his table. Shit. Your mind quickly formulated a shitty lie. “Uhm, it is a girl -- an employee that is seated there, not a man.”

“Employee?” They said in unison.

“Yes. An employee of this coffee shop. That’s her laptop. They are doing interviews earlier. Job openings…” You trailed off.

The two men just nodded. Bokuto sighed loudly. “Where did Akaashi run off to? I am getting worried. He’s gone for a week already! His ex-girlfriend is so mean!”

“Hey now, he is a grown-ass man okay? I know he knows what he is doing. Let’s just resume the search tomorrow, shall we?” Kuroo patted his friend’s back.

Bokuto looked at you with his somber, amber, owl-like eyes and said, “Thank you for your help. We are very sorry for disturbing you.”

“So we’ll leave you alone now, thank you again.” Kuroo nodded at you and the pair started walking out of the balcony. You awkwardly smiled at their backs.

When Kuroo closed the balcony glass doors, you noticed his cat-like eyes lingered on you for a moment, glimpsed at Akaashi’s table, and at you again. Maybe it is just the lighting inside the coffee shop, or it is only your imagination, but you saw a small, sly smile forming on his lips. He finally turned his back and walked away.

What the heck was that? Did he know that I’m lying?! I am really a shitty liar. You ran your fingers through your hair. You then stood up and glanced around, ensuring that the two men were really gone. You immediately went to the bathroom and knocked four times. There was no response but you can hear shuffling inside. You immediately went back to your seat on the balcony.

Minutes later, Akaashi emerged from the door, went to his table, and started to gather his things. Oh, he’s leaving already, what did I expect? You thought as you softly face-palmed yourself.

“Can I sit here?”

You removed your palm from your face and looked up at Akaashi. You felt your eyes widen again. “You... You were not leaving?”

“No, not yet.”

You just nodded and removed your bag from the seat across you. He then took the said seat.

"So.." He looked sideways, afraid to meet your eyes because of embarrassment. "I think I owe you an explanation."

You just nodded again, still dumbstruck by his charm.

“To start, I am Akaashi Keiji, well… You can call me Keiji.” He took a sip of his coffee. “And contrary to what Bokuto said earlier --”

“You heard them earlier?” You finally spoke, interrupting him. Oh god, he must have heard my pathetic lies earlier.

“Uhh, yes. Those two are so loud, they sound like they swallowed microphones or something.”

You chuckled at his snarky comment. “Yeah, they really are loud.”

“Anyway… Thank you so much for what you did earlier. I am truly sorry for dragging you into this.” He scratched his head. “Good thing they fell for your alibi.”

“Yeah, Bokuto fell for it. He must really miss you.” You broke a small piece from your chocolate chip cookie and munched on it. “But for Kuroo… I don't know. I think he knows.”

“Oh, Kuroo? He really is a pain in the ass.” Akaashi rolled his eyes and sighed. “So to continue, contrary to what Bokuto said earlier, it is not because my ex-girlfriend dumped me. It's been three months ago already. I kind of expected it because I caught her cheating so many times I cannot count it with my two hands.” He said nonchalantly while holding up both of his hands.

How can he be so cool about being dumped?! You thought, then you noticed that although calloused, he has very nice hands. Blue veins were prominent in his palms, running up toward his long, slender fingers. You want to punch yourself for noticing that at this time. Hey, stupid self, this is not the time for simping on a stranger!

He continued, “I disconnected from everyone because everything is overwhelming me. My job, my boss, bills, rent… Adulting is very hard, you know?” He droned on as he fiddled the cup sleeve of his coffee. "Also, I have always wanted to be a literary editor, but instead, they assigned me as an editor in a manga magazine."

You wanted to ask how he went off the grid because you’re interested in doing that too, but he continued on ranting.

“I am usually a calm and collected person.” Akaashi gulped again on his coffee. “I usually handle problems like a breeze, not even my friends can recognize that I have problems because I immediately find ways and solve them with ease. But now, I think I reached my tipping point, and it’s very hard to keep up with this front anymore. I am just tired, then I find myself driving away from Tokyo, and here I am.” He stared into your eyes, expecting for you to say something. Akaashi surprised himself that he bared his vulnerabilities upon a stranger.

Well, you are also astonished just the same. You realized it is getting serious.

“So.. how long have you been into hiding?”

He counted in his mind. “Today is the sixth day.”

You cleared your throat again. "Since you're very honest with me, can I be very honest with you too?"

He looked at you and nodded. "Yes please. I need it."

"Promise that you won't be mad or something?"

"I promise."

"Okay, let's start." You cleared your throat again because you're nervous. "First, it's okay to admit that you're hurt because your ex-girlfriend broke your heart."

"I am not hurt--" He muttered in protest.

"Ah ah ah." You interrupted him. "Your nonchalance about it did not match the way you narrated it. Too many words for someone who did not care."

Akaashi's eyes widened, as if slapped by the truth. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay, okay, I think you're right." He exhaled loudly. "I gave her so many chances…" He trailed off.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Maybe later." He looked at you and in all seriousness said, "I am Akaashi Keiji and I admit I am hurt. My heart has been broken. Luckily, very recently, I think I am healing."

You smiled at him. Her ex-girlfriend must be stupid to dump a guy this pure and well.. good looking. “Okay, good, good!" You exclaimed as you took another bite of your cookie. "Well, I don't know if this helps, but I just learned that love is like trial-and-error. Some people get it right the first time, but most of the time, you will try, and try, and try, until you get it right…" Your voice trailed away.

Akaashi looked at his untouched croissant. "Yes, I think that helped." He flashed a faint smile and looked up again. "I'm ready for your next one."

"Okay. Here it goes. Yes, I very much agree that adulting is very hard."

"Right? They did not teach this in high school, nor in university." He poked his pastry.

"I cannot give insights on adulting because I'm going through it too, you know? I am just as lost as you." You removed the cup sleeve of your coffee and toyed with it. "But I can assure you, you and me, we are not the only ones lost. We just have to deal with asshole people, I guess?"

"Yeah. Fuck asshole people." He grinned.

You chuckled. You don't know why a sudden warmth spreads through your chest. Maybe it's because you made him smile? Or the fact that you, a stranger, comfort him? Or the relief that you are not alone dealing with the pressure of adulting? Or maybe all of the above?

"Ready for the third one?"

"Yeah."

"I am pretty much aware that I'm in no position to tell you this, but damn, editor already at such a young age?"

"It's not my dream job, though." He retorted.

"But you're still young." You smiled softly, even though you envy him. In the magazine company where you're working, you're only a writer, nothing more, nothing less. "You must be pretty awesome to be an editor already. You still have plenty of time to reach your dream job. No need to rush, it is not a race." Even though you're jealous of him, you can't help but be in awe of him. Good looking plus smart? Damn. I need to stop simping.

"Yeah." He rested his chin on his hands. "Once again, I guess you're right. What am I in a rush for?" He nodded. "Even though I just met you minutes ago, why are you easy to talk to? Why are you so good at this?" He looked at you with his bright, green eyes.

"Believe me, I don't know. I am usually silent but here I am, babbling things to a stranger.” You shrugged, chuckling. “I am only realizing these things now because of you. Earlier, I was down in the dumps too."

"I am going to ask you later why you are in the dumps, but in the meantime, I am ready for the next one."

You purse your lips. "Okay, Keiji, you must rejoice because this is the last one."

"Okay. I'll brace myself."

"Here it goes.” You held his gaze. “I think you're too hard on yourself. You need to loosen up."

He just blinked at you.

You folded your coffee cup sleeve and slowly tore it as you spoke. "Also, expressing emotions is not a sign of weakness. I think you are tiring yourself out because you keep a front that you are strong, that you have no problems.” You noticed that he winced. “Because of that, you get drained. You must remember that you are just as vulnerable as everyone."

He took a gulp of his now cold coffee.

You continue to tear your cup sleeve. “You don’t need to change how you act after this. You can still be withdrawn with your emotions towards others, I mean, it’s not easy to change yourself after one night, right? But the only thing important here is you need to be honest with your feelings. You should not apologize for how you feel. Also, it is never wrong to ask for help from others. If you’re hurt, acknowledge it. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, acknowledge it. If you’re tired, acknowledge it.”

You exhaled, looked up at him, and saw his eyes were watery.

Shit, is he about to cry? “H-hey, I am sorry --”

His tears finally fell. “Oh.” He touched his cheeks wet from the tears and flinched. “It’s weird. It does not stop.” He pointed at his eyes with a slight panic in his voice.

You felt your eyes water too as you grabbed your packet of tissues inside your bag. “Here, you can wipe them if you want.”

“Thank you.” He removed his eyeglasses and wiped his cheeks. “I cannot stop it.” His tears are still streaming like a waterfall.

“Good lord, when was the last time you cried?” You asked, concerned.

“I-- I can’t remember. It’s a long time ago, I guess.” He sniffed, wiped his tears again, then weakly chuckled. “I am sorry for crying --”

“Ah ah ah.” You interrupted again. “Repeat after me. You should never ---”

He cut you off, “Never apologize for how I feel. Also, be honest with my feelings. Ask help from others.”

You smiled. “Great.” It then took about a good five minutes until his silent crying stopped.

He cleared his throat. “Hey. Thank you. Crying feels good.”

“It is not in my intention to make you cry, but you’re welcome, I guess?”

He chuckled. “Uhm, do you want another drink or pastry? It’s my treat.” He offered while he wore his eyeglasses again.

“Really? Wow, thank you.” My broke ass won’t let this one pass.

“On one condition. You’ll tell me about yourself too.”

“Okay.” You beamed. “But I think you’ll be bored.”

“Nope. I am all ears.” He smiled.

“Excuse me.” A barista walked to your table and smiled at both of you. “We will close in ten minutes, any additional orders?”

The both of you shook your head and thanked the barista. He went inside again.

You looked at your wristwatch. "It's almost midnight already?!"

"Really? Time flies so fast." Akaashi said. You did not see it but he looked at you with his soft eyes.

“So... Let’s go?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The both of you packed up your things and went inside. He bowed to the store manager, then the both of you exited the coffee shop. It was so cold outside that you could see your and Akaashi’s breath. You tucked your hand inside your pockets.

“Hey. Did you also tell the manager about Bokuto and Kuroo?” You asked him.

“Yes. Thank god she is also cooperative.”

“You really thought about this, huh?”

“Of course. However, tomorrow, it’s finally time for me to appear before my friends.”

“I think Bokuto will bawl his eyes out.”

The both of you laughed.

When your giggles subsided, Akaashi spoke. “So…”

“Yeah, uhm, I’ll go this way.” You pointed at the other path. “The cabs are this way.”

“Alright.”

“Thank you, Keiji. Goodbye.” You smiled at him and started to walk away. I like him, I like to know him more, but god, he just came from a breakup. If I get attached, that would count as taking advantage of a vulnerable person, right?! You overthink as you felt your heart getting heavy with every step you take. I am very much going to regret this tomorrow. Very much. You continued to walk down the narrow path, thinking about the many things that happened today.

You are seriously pondering when you suddenly hear Akaashi shout your name, making you stop in your tracks. You turned around and he immediately appeared from your view, running, and halted in front of you.

“W-wait.” He panted, catching his breath. “You told me to be honest with my feelings.”

You just blinked at him, already panicking on the inside.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you. “Please input your phone number. I want to see you again.”

“B-but Tokyo is far from Miyagi --”

“Ah ah ah.” He copied the way you interrupted him earlier and smirked. “It will be worth the drive.”

You felt your heart beat faster as if it wanted to escape your ribcage. “Okay.” You mustered as you typed your number in his phone and thanked the gods that it is somehow dark or else he will see your tomato cheeks right now.

You looked up at him and handed him his phone with your cold, trembling hands.

“This not a fake number?”

“What? No.”

“Just making sure.” He smiled at you.

The moon has never been so bright that night.

#akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #hq fanfic #hq akaashi #haikyuu songfic #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu time skip #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyū!!#haikyuu comfort #akaashi #akaashi scenarios

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dreamrecorder · 3 years

Text

Until then, we will find each other again. <||>

fluff & angst drabble, reincarnation au, modern au

| Xiao x Reader | Diluc x Reader |

Note: I'm sorry that I can't put the cut thingy bcos im writing in mobile. Once I get ahold of my laptop I'll put the cut thingy. Happy reading^^ i swear these were supposed to be short but welp

Xiao

Notes: Immortal companion* - Just think of someone immortal from the game. This is also a different take from Venti's and Zhongli's because I honestly think Xiao is so done with immortality and its consequences.

Suicide implicitly mentioned.**

Xiao is mourning for the passing of his immortal companion*, making him the last immortal to walk the world. Now, it is he, who last remains from a time of gods and monsters. Each passing of a mutual, he witnessed. They deemed it was their time to move on, for humanity has succeeded to bring fate into their own two hands. The world no longer needed them.

Xiao has already suffered loss way before the Archon War. Yet, he never expressed the emotion of grief for he needed to be strong lest the world will eat him alive. However, this passing made his heart of glass, chip a little, then shattering the whole thing altogether. Or perhaps, it was already chipped away and too fragile because of the losses that has culminated in his immortal life.

Now, he lays on the roof of a building of what used to be Wangshu Inn. He was trying hard not to break down again. By doing so, he merely cursed fate over and over again. Yet, to no avail, the man exploded in tears once more, too tired from all the pain and loss suffered from millenias.

Then... there's you. You who uttered the words, "Until then, we will find each other again."

With all sincerity he can muster, he wanted to believe those words. He wanted to believe in you. That's why he stayed. Yet... the pain he feels heavily overweighs his faith in you.

He just wants to... end it all.

"I just want to disappear..."

No one heard him utter those words, only the wind. And the wind- just as once the Anemo Archon had said, carries the words one thinks no one can hear.

It came like a whisper, yet loud and clear. Then all of a sudden, the memories of your previous life flashed before your eyes. You dropped the book you were holding and held your temples at the incoming migraine.

"Are you alright?" You friends asked in worry, looking for any visible signs of pain aside from your clenched eyes and your frowning expression.

You could only groan as a reply and your friends waited for you to take your time to recollect yourself.

Who... Whose voice? You knew this voice... But who?

You finally removed your hands and opened your eyes.

"I- I have to go... Go without me." Was all you said before leaving your friends in the dust who looked at your way with confusion.

Who? Many questions riddled your mind. And with all these unanswered, worry and anxiety grew in your heart. Tears began to swell in your eyes, worsening your headache.

This is not about you! You have to look for... something! Someone! Just-

"Dear gods, please please don't you dare fucking take him..."

You sprinted around the area, following and listening to that now faint whisper under the night. The whispers only became clearer and louder when you approached a building which used to be an inn.

The moment you stepped foot within the building, the lone whisper became mixed with more words which did not lift your heart.

Fuck.

With pure adrenaline, you opted to use the stairs instead of the damn elevator. You have finally reached the door leading to the rooftop, and at that point, the whispers became screams. However, when your hand grasped the handle, the voice in the wind stopped. You opened the door at full to be met by the back of the man who stands at the railing.

Xiao...?

Xiao..

Xiao.

"Xiao!"

At the call of his name by a familiar voice, his head whipped to its direction. But he shall not be fooled.

"You... you're not real."

The words along with lifeless eyes stabbed you.

"It's me, Xiao! Y/n! Don't do this! I'm sorry I took so long! But I'm here now! Just as I had promised!"

Your heart was beating against your ribcage. You had to prove you were real. But how?

"You're just an illusion made by my heart."

"Xiao, please! Fuck I'm really sorry! But please you don't have to do this... I... I remember everything, Xiao... All those times we battled in the war. Those times we shared almond tofu. The times we smiled, cried, laughed, and fought...

I remember everything..."

For each word you uttered, you grew confident in your memories. For each word, you took a step closer. For each word, you saw life coming back to the man you love.

"So please... Come back..."

At the final word, you released all your sincerity, genuity, and adoration for him. And finally, your hands took purchase in his (while trying so hard not to shed any tear for his sake).

"It's me."

...

"Y/n...?"

You beamed at him and finally, Xiao's eyes were now shining in clarity, and of course, life and love.

Diluc has been reincarnated many times, yet still has not found you. Through his reincarnated forms, he alternated between travelling and staying in Mondstadt. The former done in order to find you. The latter done in the chance you would find him there.

Diluc

For the first time in his many lifetimes, his current form surprised him. When he reached 'sixteen', his memories resurfaced and the realization sank in. His appearance ended just as how he looked in his first ever lifetime. The only difference was the length of his hair. He even ended up being reincarnated in the Ragnvindr Family along with inheriting the winery business.

To put it bluntly, walking within the old yet maintained Ragnvindr Mansion was a memory lane. However, the moment of reminiscence only gave him a heavy heart, for within these halls used to be filled with your laughter.

In this very same spot where he currently stands, is where you uttered your last words.

"Until then, we will find each other again."

Walking aimlessly around the mansion, he thinks about those long, long years without you. Must be fate so cruel? Making him search far and wide, when in the end fate does not want you to return to him? The man clenched his fists, and in anger, punched the nearby wall.

He expected a bursting kind of pain to come, yet what came was a dull throb on his knuckles. Yet this is not only what he had not expected. He did not expect for the wall to respond with a resounding hollowness.

A hidden corridor? Room? When had the family installed this?

Curiosity held him and began kicking the hollow wall without hesitation. What secrets does it hide from all these years, he shall know. Once the wall opened up for him to fit, he entered with a lit phone in hand at extreme brightness.

Again, what he saw, he had not expected. What he saw both filled and emptied his heart simultaneously. What he saw was a painting of you and him, together in a moment of shared happiness.

"Dilu-" His mother called which snapped out of his trance. His head snapped at her direction and saw her eyes fill with solemness.

"I didn't mean to-"

His mother hushed him with a gentle smile and entered the room to stand alongside him.

"You know," his mother began, "I always believed in the fantasy that had been once in our world. Lord Barbatos, the other Archons, the Twins that saved our world, Visions, and... reincarnation. I always believed in them.

The moment I saw your features when you were born, I knew you were the reincarnation of the Uncrowned King of Mondstadt... So I named you after him because I knew your memories would resurface someday. I knew the day would come when my son will no longer be my son. Because when that day comes, all I would see in your eyes is a long unspoken wisdom and pain that will replace your innocence free from battles and war."

Diluc was surprised, yet kept his emotions to himself. He understood what his mother was pointing at. "Is... Is this why this picture is hidden?"

His mother nodded solemnly. "Perhaps, I was afraid and scared about when the day I spoke of will take place. That's why I ordered this painting be hidden. I knew this painting of you and Lady Y/n will unlock your memories sooner, but I didn't want that."

For once in his lifetimes, his heart softened with love. The kind of love that assures you that someone cares for you. Never in his reincarnated lifetimes, had he experienced this feeling. All those years, he was just... lost in the feelings and thoughts of not being with you.

The man stepped towards his mother with hesitation to which he instantly erased. He hugged his mother with a soft spoken voice saying these words.

"I will always be your son and you will always be my mother. That will never change. I may be 'older' than you, but please do remember that I would not have grown to who am I today without your guidance. For that, I deeply thank you for taking care of me...

I love you, Mom."

With his words, his mother burst into light tears accompanied by a smile. "Don't make me cry, I'm going to wrinkle." Diluc laughed at the comment. After a loving moment, the two separated yet his mother still held onto his arms.

"You've grown so much... I guess little birds do leave the nest someday."

"It wouldn't be possible without you."

His mother looked at him with a proud gaze, "Go. Find her. If memory serves right, I might have seen someone like her dwell everyday in the local library."

The man released his breath he never knew he was holding. Diluc hugged his mom again with a peck on her cheek. He then let go and began to exit the room with haste.

"Once I come home, I will tell you everything. Venti, Morax, the Twin Travelers, the Archons, and Visions. I will tell you everything."

With a rush, Diluc was now out of sight. Yet, the Madam Ragnvindr was not saddened. Her heart swelled for her son whose eyes are finally, once more lit with happiness. However, who's Venti?

A/n: welp truth be told diluc's story took an unexpected turn lol. It's either I'm going to leave this like that or continue it. Take your pick by commenting because I'm actually fine with either options haha happy reading <3

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc genshin impact #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #xiao genshin impact #xiao #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #genshin imagines

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kusagrasskusa · 3 years

Text

Michael Myers X Reader - Part 3 - Final

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

This one made me cringe lol- Also, there's sorta a sensitive part of the story so beware.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today is the day, Y/N thought to herself. She pressed her hand against the wall of her hallway, slowly moving her hand across it as she walked towards the living room. It was in the middle of the night, around 3AM, where Michael would be asleep by now. Perfect time to finally see that face for more than 5 seconds... At that thought, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as she wondered how Michael doesn't have terrible acne due to wearing that mask all the time.

Shaking that thought from her head, she finally entered the living room and saw a sleeping psychopath on her couch with his arms wrapped around a pillow and a large cover over him. The pillow he hugged always covered his face, hence why Y/N wasn't able to see his face in his sleep either. And because he always hides his mask when he sleeps as well, so Y/N can't just take it from him. And Michael's a light sleeper anyway, so he's catch her before she gets the chance to hide it.

But this time, Y/N had a plan. Michael sometimes goes out for a kill and she never knows. So when he comes home at 3AM and knocks on the door really loud, it scares the fuck outta her. In order to prevent that, she bought a camera that has night vision that connects to her computer. But she might as well test it out in living room, wink wink. And hey! She can find where he keeps his mask so Y/N doesn't have to look around for hours. All she needs to know is the general vicinity to find it. It was set up earlier, so all Y/N would have to do it wake him up so he goes to get his mask.

She smirked mischievously as she tiptoed over to the couch, hovering over him. He was lightly snoring peacefully, relaxed (not for long-). Y/N slowly gripped the sides of the pillow he was hugging, very delicately pulling it away from him. As soon as he started to stir in his sleep, she ripped it out of his arms and giggled as he shot his arms up over his face. "Aww, good morning, honey!" She giggled; Y/N could basically feel the anger radiating off of him, which was her que to ruN THE FUCK AWAY.

Right after saying good morning, she darted towards her room as fast as humanly possible. Rather than chasing her, Michael just hissed and stood up to grab his mask from in between the couch cushions. Sliding it on, he groggily went his way towards Y/N's room to probably scare her or something. I don't know, he was acting out in the moment.

Y/N could hear his slow footsteps faintly as he got closer to her door. She went under her bed to "hide from him" so it doesn't seem suspicious that she's just calm and all that. Yeah, poor reasoning but sTiLL. Anyway, Y/N giggled under her breath as he opened her bedroom door, walking inside her room and looking around. She could faintly hear him sigh as he went close to her bed, then turned his body so he could see under the bed. Y/N jolted backwards so she wouldn't get caught however Michael grabbed her arm strongly but gently. Y/N laughed as she was pulled out from under the bed.

"Michael, Michael, honey! I thought you were asleep or something!" She spoke innocently. She could just feel Michael's half lidded "shut the fuck up" stare. Y/N opened her mouth to speak again, but suddenly there was a loud knock on her door. I mean loud as in they were trying to break it. Y/N jumped, yelling, "what the hell!" Michael let go of her, watching as she raced towards her the kitchen to grab a knife. But as soon as she grabbed one, she heard someone yell.

"Police, open up!" Y/N's heart fucking dropped. Her lips quivered and her eyes widened with fear. Michael's image was the only thing she could think of as she opened the door, seeing a couple of large men in suits with guns and whatnot. One of them was holding a large black objects used to break down doors. Another was holding a piece of paper towards Y/N, speaking in a rough voice, "Y/N L/N! The FBI has a warrant to search your house for the wanted criminal Michael Myers. If we find any trace of him, you'll be under arrest for harboring a fugitive. For now, you'll be detained and questioned, not arrested. If it seems that your innocent, then you should remain calm and you shall have nothing to worry about. Otherwise, feel free to speak up now."

At the end of his speech, he put the paper away as a dozen of FBI agents bust into Y/N house, running across into ever room and searching for both Michael and evidence of him being here. At the sight of seeing all of this and the feeling of that officer grabbing her arms roughly and detaining them with cuffs, Y/N began to cry. Her legs became shaky and could barely support her weight. "What...What are you guys talking about?" She breathed out fearfully.

One of the FBI Agents came across an office room with a computer in it. The computer screen showed the living room as it is with agents breaking things and yelling. The agent hummed, messing with the keyboard and mouse a bit in order to see the earliest footage. It was of Y/N still setting up the camera and when she left the view of it, we can assume she went to bed. Hours later, a large and tall man was seen heading towards the couch, pulling off his mask and hiding it, then going to sleep.

"Muh-Michael is a...a..." Y/N breathed heavily, her back against the wall and an agent crouching on front of her. Of course, Y/N already knew this but at least she can get off with "not knowing."

"That's right. He's a murderer of many, including his older sister," the agent, who has Danyel written on his tag, replied. Two other agents went up to Dabyel, one of them addressing something.

"There's not a single thing of evidence of him, nor his clothing or anything. However I found camera footage of him being inside the house, sleeping on the couch in here. This woman clearly had a good relationship with him since she woke him up before we came here." Danyel responded to him, but Y/N didn't pay much attention. So Michael just left me, she thought. No, he had to leave so we both didn't get hurt! But it still hurts a little.

"Well, the good news is you didn't lie about not knowing him," Danyel laughed, grabbing Y/N's arm roughly and pulling her up. "Eh, sorry," he apologized when Y/N whenced at his grip. He started to walk her out of her extremely noisy home and to the outdoors, where she felt an amazing relief wash over. She sniffed, his breath quivering as some tears remained and more pouring out of her eyes.

"Michael was never bad to me," she spoke in a low voice, but still loud enough for Danyel to hear.

"Hmm." He walked Y/N up to his car, opening the back door to put Y/N in. She slid inside and was pushed away from the door and towards the middle of the seat. Then Danyel sat next to her, closing the door. Wait, she thought, this isn't normal. "Wanna tell me more about how he was?" He asked her, placing his hand on her cheek and using his thumb to wipe his tears. A shiver made it's way down her spine and her eyebrows furrowed together.

"He really is a nice guy. I can't comprehend he would do something so, so...evil," Y/N started, playing along. She really was hella upset about the reality of what murder really is; yes, she knew he was a killer but had never heard or seen any of it on the news or in person. And hey, if she didn't know the person, why would she care? But now in the situation where the hell that comes from murder is placed upon her so forcefully, she couldn't help but be slightly truthful when she spoke about how terrible she feels.

"My house was always open to people in need, and than I found him. He was knocking on doors, looking for a place to stay, and I let him in. He was so nice," Y/N sniffed, flinching her head back when Danyel tried to wipe away newer tears. "He was funny, loved the food I cooked and I finally had someone to talk to. No, he finally had someone to talk to. I could see so many signs of loneliness and hurt on him and I was finally curing it. Eventually, a few months in, I started to fall for him. Actually, I can't help but still love him.

"I know it's bad but he was the greatest friend, and roommate I could ever ask for. He never complained about anything either; heh heh, there was a time when he didn't have any clean clothes to change into so I had find something for him. All I had was a large baggy, blue hoodie and he it was a good look on him." Y/N chest ached as she finished her story, staring down at the car floor. Danyel hummed, a frown on his features.

Come to think of it, I never described Danyel very well. As mentioned before, he had a rough voice; it was serious and void of care. His demeanor matched it, too, as he showed no care for Y/N as she cried. Even when he wiped her tears, he didn't do it out of the goodness of his heart, but for some other reason. His uniform was a blue business suit, unlike the other FBI agents, and it matched a serious demeanor well. His stone cold blue eyes remained on Y/N as she talked, and every once in a while he was push back his slicked back grey-blonde hair.

He was around 35 with youth in his eyes yet his forehead and eyes had wrinkles. His hair was turning grey already, probably from the heavy amounts of stress that comes with the job. He was quite tall, about 6'3 (190cm) and had broad shoulders and had a slim yet muscular build. He wasn't necessarily attractive or youthful looking, but not yet ready for unattractive or old. He always had a frown and half lidded eyes showing nothing but boredom for everything around him.

"That's very touching, Miss L/N," he spoke. Y/N looked up at him, sniffing. Danyel hummed sadly and slowly changed his face to a softer expression. "Well, you won't have to worry about it after today. In the meantime, is there anyone you can stay with for now?" Y/N's lip quivered as she shook her head. "No? You have no family, no other friends? Surely a parent or sibling would help you on a time of need, regardless of your relationship." Y/N shook her head again. She doesn't really like to talk about it.

"I don't have anyone, sir, I really don't. I don't...I don't want to talk about it but I can't see my mom! I don't have any siblings or dad, but she's not a recommendation," she reassured, her heart speeding up at the mere thought of her mom. Danyel noticed this and raised a brow.

"In that case, you will stay at my place. Of course I'm putting my life on the line that way so expect some serious restrictions." Danyel spoke, a smirk almost appearing from the corners of his lips. Y/N felt a chill go up her spine and shook. "That means in case you attempt to escape, I'll be locking your room at night. Don't think I won't go further to ensure you don't attack me in my sleep. You won't be allowed to go outside at all ever. No one is allowed to visit. You'll be able to get food whenever you wish, as well. Roam to your heart's content, but please keep silent at night."

Y/N nodded in understanding but at the same time, she felt way more uneasy than she did when he suggested it. After all he never asked if she wanted to stay with him. No, he told her she would. And his rules seem way too restricting and very unprofessional for someone in the line of service. Y/N is nearly 65% of the size of him, so how the hell is she supposed to "murder him in his sleep?" He could literally just kick her if she ever tried. Lastly, it's almost like he really wanted this.

"Now that's settled, we should be heading towards the police station for questioning. If you're innocent and knew nothing of his history, you have nothing to fear so please be honest and put up no fight. May the lord have mercy on your beautiful soul."

~~~~~~

"This will be your room, Miss L/N," Danyel said as he opened a door. Inside was a small bed that was made, a dresser that was somewhat dusty besides it, and a single lap besides it. He walked up to the dresser and set down a suitcase that Y/N had packed after questioning at the police station. She had to get it searched twice in case something were to happen, which was hella annoying for her. "Please do make yourself at home. I'll cook something tonight."

Y/N nodded her head, very uneasy as the thought of staying at some strangers house. She sighed when he stepped out of her new room and she shut the door after him. She shivered, rubbing her eyes before tears well up. "I miss Michael," she whimpered silently to herself. She pushed her hair out of her face as a shaky breath came out of her mouth. Turning towards her suitcase, she walked towards it and unzipped it. She began to pull things out and pet them away in a respective place in the dresser.

"Hmm... Where's my hoodie?" Y/N mumbled to herself under her breath. She made sure to bring a certain blue hoodie with her, but she can't find it. As she scanned through it more, she noticed a few other articles of clothing was missing. "Um, alright, that's creepy," Y/N said out loud. What the hell did Danyel do? When she finished putting her clothes away, she pulled out comfortable pajamas of F/C and S/F/C. Right afterwards, she walked out of her room.

"I'm done," she called out as she walked into the kitchen. Danyel was wearing normal clothes now, no longer a suit and tie, and he was moving around something in a pan. It smelt a lot of breakfast in the kitchen, so it was probably eggs.

"Well, I hope you enjoy it here Y/N. You'll be staying for a while, heh heh," he chuckled as he turned off the stove. "I don't know if you like breakfast for dinner, but I made eggs and pancakes for us." Y/N smiled, sitting down at the table.

"It smells very nice, thanks," she answered. "I must have been in my room longer than I thought."

"You must have been. I had to go look inside to make sure you weren't sleeping, heh."

Y/N's smile dropped when she looked away from him. He was making plates at the moment, too distracted to see Y/N's look of discomfort. Maybe I'm just paranoid, she thought to herself, but he's so weird. As Danyel passed a plate in front of her and one for himself across the table, the room became filled with an awkward silence aside from the side of the a fork clinging against the plates. Y/N poked around at her food, a bit too unnerved from today to eat well. "You know, you shouldn't play with you food."

"I know, I know, sorry. It's just..." she drifted off before getting it back together. "I miss Michael. This is all so weird." Danyel frowned, picking up a few eggs and eating them before replying.

"I see. But you know, this is very essential for your well being. After all Michael is described as pure evil. If he truly cared for you, he would come here to save you and the task force will be here to protect you. If you wanted to go back to kill you because you know too much, the task force will be here to save you. I understand this sounds like I'm using you to lure him in however I am not. You're a very beautiful and intelligent girl who has a heart in the right place; as seen when you choose to let a homeless mute guy with a mask in your house.

"It would be quite a shame for someone like you to be void of life. After all, I'm sure you're a very fun woman and it would be nice for you to stick around with me for now. As you can see I'm without a family so it'd be nice to have some company." As Danyel finished talking, Y/N nodded in understanding. By now she had already finished her food as she kinda just wanted to go to sleep as fast as possible.

Y/N stood up and brought her plate to the think. "Thank you, sir, I appreciate it. I'm probably gonna go to sleep now, okay? Have a nice night," she said as she smiled at him. Danyel stared at her as she walked away and mumbled goodnight to her. Y/N walked into her new bedroom and looked around. It's depressing to not be in her own home, especially at a stranger's house. But she knew she'd see Michael soon, right? As she layer in bed and put on socks, she couldn't help but recall that one time Michael laid in bed with her because it was cold. She giggled to herself when she turned off the light and laid on her back in bed.

It was deadpan silent in that room. So if Y/N likes a fan or TV to help her sleep, this isn't very good for her. Either way, she managed to fall asleep while replaying plenty of memories in her head. Like one time, the first week of Michael staying at her house, she woke up to get ready for work. When she stood on the countertop to get the blender out of the cabinet so she can make a milkshake before work, she saw three sticky notes that said, "Short."

Giggling at the thought, Y/N closed her eyes, waiting for the day that she can live like that again. After all how can she can live in piece in her home again when her neighbors learn her roommate is a killer? She'd never be able to live in peace again. With these thoughts in mind, Y/N began to slowly drift away to sleep until finally all at once. At least, it would last like that for a little while.

A scream erupted from Y/N's mouth as she felt someone pin her to the bed. Danyel, of course, was the culprit; he held her arms tight and got really close to her. "Tell me where he's hiding! Tell me or you'll fucking regret it!" He yelled, making Y/N burst out into tears. She gasped for air, trying to kick him off of her but to no advil.

"I don't know! Let me go!" She yelled back, now trying to release her arms but of course to no advil.

"Lying little bitch," he mumbled under his breath as he let go of one of her wrists to grab something. It was too dark to see, but the metallic-plastic sound she heard means that's it could either be a knife or a gun. Y/N used her other arm to try to release her pinned down hand but she stopped when she felt something touch her head. It was, in fact, a gun. "Tell me where he is," he said as she flipped off his safety, "or die."

Y/N whimpered holding her free arm to her chest as to make herself seem smaller to comfort herself. Danyel released her other arm, putting both hands on his gun as he began to count down from 20. Y/N sniffed, her heart racing so heavily she felt like she would die. Only 20 seconds to live? What's the point of putting up a fight? She closed her eyes tightly, huffing until Danyel got to 5. As these few numbers left rang in her ears, she began to feel apprehensive.

In one swift and easy movement, she managed to hit the gun away from Danyel. A metallic clink sound hit the floor and right after that, a shot erupted. Danyel growled, slapping Y/N before lunging to grab his gun. As fast as humanly possible, Y/N shot up and ran out of the bedroom. The light from the moon shun from all the windows, making it easy for her to maneuver around and there was still enough darkness to hide. To the right outside her bedroom was the kitchen, and in the kitchen are knives, and like hell Y/N passing that up.

She swiftly grabbed one of those larger knives, one similar to what Michael carries. As soon as Y/N made it into the living room, she heard Danyel's loud footsteps run into the kitchen. In his house, the living room and kitchen don't have a wall to separate them to Y/N was in plain sight. "Put your hands up, L/N!" He yelled as he shakingly pointed his gun to her. "Make a move and I'll blow your head off!" Y/N gulped before having a master plan she learned in elementary school: she would juex him, or make him think she's going one way but she'd go the other way.

Y/N growled, jumping to her left but right as he shot, she jumped to the right again and began running. Danyel sped up after her, but it was a little too dark to actually see her move. He had to rely on her softly little footsteps that were being covered up but his own footsteps. Y/N took this time to swiftly get into Danyel's room. Luckily the floor in there was carpet rather than wood so she didn't worry about making too many sounds. In his room was a giant bed, two dressers, a nightstand, and a computer desk.

Danyel ran towards his room, not in it, and paused. "Where the hell did you go!" Y/N's lip quivered as she wiped off her tears; she looked around her for maybe something to throw so he would check inside the room, but know she was behind the door. Looking around her, she saw a binder on a bookcase she hadn't noticed before and grabbed it, throwing it against the wall across the room. Almost as soon as it hit the wall, Danyel ran in passed her, giving Y/N a good opportunity to ran out.

But instead, she gripped her knife strongly before running up to him from behind and plunging the knife right into his ribs, below his arm. Not many people know this, but one of the most vital places of the human body is below the arm; hell, sticking a fingernail in that place could pop so many vital veins that it will kill them. Danyel screamed loudly and spun around, his arm colliding with Y/N's head, knocking her over. Damn bobblehead. Danyel's blood sprayed as he pulled out the knife, dropping it onto the floor and covering his wound. He fell onto his knees. Somewhere in that time, he had dropped his gun, so he was defenseless.

Y/N ran towards the knife, as the gun was no where in sight due to the darkness of the room, gripping it. She rushed towards him a second time and this time, plunging the knife right into that bigass forehead of his. He went silent, went limp, and fell straightforward onto the floor. Y/N was covered in his blood but she weirdly didn't feel anything about it; she was basically desensitized from seeing Michael covered in it so many times.

With a small smile, she pulled out the knife and took it with her into her bedroom, throwing it onto the bed. She took of her bloody pajamas and then headed towards his bathroom to take a shower. Luckily there was much more blood on her clothes than on her body so she didn't struggle too much to get the thick liquid off her. Unfortunately, some of her skin was stained.

When she got out of the bathroom, she went back to the bedroom to get changed. No matter if she choose to put on a lovely dress, or skinny jeans and a sweater, or sweatpants and a tang top, she knew she wouldn't feel fully dressed until she could find that blue hoodie. So she headed towards Danyel's room and hummed to herself along the way. Stepping into the bedroom again, she froze when she saw a looming silhouette that was lit up by the moon threw the window. It wasn't open before, so she could only assume he had just gotten here.

A smile formed on Y/N's lips and her eyes felt watery from tears of joy. "Michael!" She yelled as she ran up to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. She felt his arms slowly wrap around her too, lightly though as if she was fragile. Michael looked over at the fallen officer; he never knew that Y/N had it in her to kill someone. After all, Y/N once cried because Michael killed a butterfly. She must have been terrified; and although she couldn't feel it at the time, Y/N was so scared.

"Where were you?" Y/N asked as she whimpered, her lip quivering. Michael brushed her wet hair with his fingers, not answering her as expected. "Whatever... I'm so happy you're okay," she giggled to herself, wiping her tears away. "I guess their gonna link me with the murder no matter what I do, huh? So what should we do?"

Michael audibly sighed and let go of Y/N. He pulled his hands up to his mask, pulling it off. Y/N stood wide-eyed, her mouth parted open at the sight. Even in the darkness and little light the moon displayed, she could examine his ever feature for more than 5 seconds. "Oh my god," she mumbled as she brought her hands up to her mouth. "You're hot! What the hell! Why didn't you show this to me sooner you asshole!"

Her face was a light red shade and she was fangirling so badly inside her mind right now. After a solid 5 minutes, she finally calmed down; she crossed her arms and sighed to calm herself down. By now, Michael kinda just sat on his knees because he would rather not just stand there the whole time. "Well, um anyway..."

"Y/N. Obviously, we'll have to leave and hide. I've been doing this for a while; I know exactly where to go." Y/N shivered at the sound of his voice. It was serious this time instead of mischievous like the first time she heard it. Her cheeks lit up again but instead of fangirling on the outside, she kept it more on the inside.

"R-Right... I suppose we should be going now?" Michael nodded, smirking as he grabbed the sides of Y/N's face and pulling her close. They're lips collided (ew cooties) for a few seconds, and in those few seconds Y/N managed to have invented a new color, uncover a number hidden between 8 and 19376484974939, and small the word "iris." Right after they parted, Michael slid his mask back on and stood up.

"It'll be faster if I carried you. Your short legs won't go far on their own." Y/N huffed loudly, putting her hands on her hips. Her face was even brighter now, but wHatEver.

"You know what? Fine! At least I can see what it's like to be a damn giraffe." Plus she can also be held with biG StRonG ArMs or something like that, I don't know. She went up closer to him and held out her arms. "Just so you know, I want to stop by McDonald's on the way to where ever we're going."

Michael rolled his eyes, a smile on his lips under his mask as he picked her up bridal style, heading for the window. "Also! If you drop me, I'm suing." He ignored her comments as he stepped out of the window, landing perfectly. Y/N jumped in fear, "Cheezits rice!" Now if what she said didn't make sense to the reader, they should say it out loud and think about what it sounds like. Anyway, Danyel's house was actually pretty secretive. It's in the middle of the woods with only one road that leads to civilization. And that's where the two were heading.

~~~~~~~~~~

"This place is weird," Y/N said as she ate a McChicken nugget. She was holding a happy meal that contained a 6-piece chicken and fries. Also it came with a Rainbow Dash toy. Pure bliss. Anyway, the two of them were in an abandoned asylum that had concrete floors and white walls; there were cobwebs and wood and dirt scattered. "Also, if you think for a damn second that I'm cleaning this, you're wrong."

"Not you. We. We need a place to stay, right? A little work here and there would be sufficient."

"How are you gonna use big words when your handwriting looks like a mouse trying to use a pen?"

Three months later, the asylum did not look bad at all. They only used very few areas of it; by the window they entered through was three rooms that were very close together. These rooms and the hallway that connected it was basically their home. It sounds strange, but after managing to steal a bunch of lights, sweep away nasty shit, and steal certain kinds of wallpaper to cover up the old wallpaper, it became livable. They brought in tables, even a fucking fridge, chairs, etc to make it more homey.

The asylum wasn't that old either; there was outlets for plugging in lights and a fridge and all that. They were able to steal power from a nearby working place to even get the power needed, too. Things worked surprisingly well. Y/N would cook, Michael would clean, and all that good stuff. Y/N was the one to go out shopping and all that, and Michael would steal. The power of teamwork! One one of the rooms was a bed and dresser; the bed was pretty low on the ground actually and hella big too, so Michael could fit.

Y/N would be home a lot by herself, as Michael's quest to kill his family was worth more than life to him, but she would still see him pretty often.

This series is over, but if anyone suggests a story deeper into how their relationship would be or perhaps even kids, I have no shaming in making it happen. Or perhaps a different ending?!

#micheal myers #michael myers x y/n #micheal myers x reader #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #slashers x reader #slashers

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lady-literature · 3 years

Text

for us to collide (part 4)

anyway who actually expected me to end this thing in 4 chapters lol

rip me ig

After the not-so-impromptu interrogation courtesy of her friends (because there was no way they hadn’t planned that, it was too coordinated) Robin doesn’t stop by for two weeks.

Which is… fine. Marinette is plenty busy anyways. The extra time she has free now that she isn’t entertaining a bratty vigilante, goes to more productive uses of her time. Like watching bad horror movies with her friends and jeering at the horrible acting and special effects.

(Red Hood stops by in the middle of watching Grizzly Rage and proceeds to rant for twenty minutes about ‘shitty, unrealistic blood splatters’. Marinette has long since passed the point of being worried about it.)

So, yeah. She doesn’t see Robin.

But Damian, oddly enough, seeks her out.

It’s early, and there isn’t anyone else in the studio right now which means Marinette has her music blasting and she’s humming along as she hand paints silk for Clara’s dress. It’s loud and she’s in her zone, so it’s only by Tikki warning her that she realizes someone entered her sanctuary.

Her eyebrows raise when she sees who it is.

“Uh, bonjour Damian," she greets confusedly, reaching over to lower the volume on her speakers. "I hadn’t expected to see you here. Is there something you need?”

He stops before her workstation, only slightly bigger than the ones the rest of her staff use due to the sheer amount of open commissions she normally has. She has an actual office on this floor, but Chloé uses it more than she does. Marinette likes the open space and being around her designers more than she likes the privacy.

His eyes catch on the two bouquets of flowers she’s yet to take home, neither of which have even begun to wilt—and likely won’t. (She’ll have to take them home soon before people start asking questions.)

“I was called here by Father, but he’s currently indisposed. I’ve been told to wait.”

She waits a moment for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, she asks, “So you came to visit me?”

“Yours is the only tolerable presence to be found.” His lips purse, and he crosses his arms. “And that includes that imbecile Drake who is no doubt still in his office like the pitiful insomniac he is.”

Her tongue is already halfway around a joke about excuses—she didn’t befriend Felix for nothing, okay? She knows how people like Damian work—when she realizes what he just said.

“Wait. Tim’s been here all night?”

Damian snorts. “He certainly didn’t return to the manor.”

She’s out of her seat in an instant, frowning and muttering up a storm as she rummages through the storage cubes pushed up against the far wall. She has a blanket, pillow and plain cotton shirt in her hands before Damian registers that she even moved.

“I’m going to kill your brother,” she says simply. “Would you like to come with?”

She’s gotten closer to Tim since working in Wayne Tower. He’s a notorious recluse and rarely leaves his office when he’s in the building, but Marinette makes it a point to visit him during lunch and before she leaves for the night.

He isn’t one of her Waynes, but he is a Wayne and her Waynes love and care for him so there’s not much of a difference really. She does like to think they might be something close to friends at this point though. And if the way Tim comes down to visit whenever he ventures out of his office means something, she might even be right.

Another thing that should be noted, is that Marinette is very much a ‘ride or die’ kind of person when it comes to the people she cares about. She will ruthlessly bully her loved ones into taking better care of themselves on threat of death because she is the semi-hypocritical mom friend and damn proud of it.

Damian looks her up and down, eyes lingering on the items in her hands and the determined set to her jaw and says, “Of course.” Then he’s plucking her things from her hands, offering her his arm and saying, “Shall we?”

Marinette laughs as she loops her arm with his. “We shall.”

***

She spends ten minutes scolding Tim before wrangling him onto the couch in his office and wrapping him up in the blanket so tightly he’d need to be an escape artist to get out of it. He tries to struggle anyway, but Marinette has too much practice at this and he doesn’t stand a chance in hell.

Damian stands at her shoulder and smirks the entire time, eyes dancing with amusement as she forces the CEO of Wayne Enterprises to take a fucking nap. Then, she’s treated to the sound of his surprised laughter as she begins switching out all of Tim’s regular coffee for magic-decaf—not that Damian knows it’s magic.

(By the devilish smirk playing at his lips, she’s starting to think that maybe Damian really is just as sadistic as Duke and Jason say he is.)

***

Damian starts dropping by more often after that (read: starts dropping by at all). Not that Marinette minds. She quite likes his company, actually.

He normally stops by first thing in the morning when Marinette is the only one in the workshop, walking in like he owns the place. For the first couple days, he asks about Ladybug and the rest of Paris’ Court, claiming that he’s curious about them.

She answers them, but only as far as she’d answer them for any reporter and is careful not to give away any sensitive information not known to the public. He gets a bit frustrated at one point, complaining that she must know more, but she stays stubbornly silent about it and, sometimes, steers the conversation deftly to the Great Bat and his Flock instead.

He eventually stops asking about the Parisian superheroes and instead their morning conversations turn to a thousand random things. Complaints and anecdotes and a silly back and forth between the two.

Marinette’s never been much of a morning person but having Damian there to keep her company is… nice.

She almost finds herself looking forward to mornings now.

***

When her Waynes learn that she’s started a food kitchen and makes a habit of spending her weekend there, they immediately insist on joining her, despite her protests.

“You guys really don’t have to do this,” she says even though the three of them are already in their aprons and Cass is eyeing the boucher, Vivian, and her collection of knives with glittering interest.

Duke grins at her, “We know, M. But we want to.”

Jason finally turns back to her from where he’s been staring at the kitchen with something just shy of awe on his face. “You’re downright incredible, you know that?” he waves a hand out at the seating area, and then at the people in the kitchen assembling the healthiest and cost-efficient meals she and Felix could find after days spent researching. “I would’ve killed for something like this when I was on the streets.”

“It’s not just me who’s got this up and running-” she tries protesting but then Fiona, the woman Marinette actually put in charge of this place, is at her side and all but shoving the four of them into stations.

Marinette ends up by the pastries, like always, and she can see Jason making sandwiches. Duke's been roped into making eggs and bean casseroles and Cass, by some grace, actually ended up by Vivian and is having a blast cutting up all the meats as fast as she can.

They don’t stop until lunch, all four of them helping prepare meals for the upcoming week in bulk. After, they all go out for ice cream by the pier and Jason smears chocolate on her nose and Duke carries her around on his back when she complains about being tired.

Cass takes pictures of it all and later, Marinette gets them all printed out.

It ends up being a really good day.

***

The buzz from the charity gala and all the press regarding her and Damian’s non-existent relationship had calmed down weeks ago. There was still the odd article about Marinette being seen with her odd assortment of Waynes and the newspapers still called her ridiculous names when they got a picture, but it was about as close to normal as she gets.

The quiet lulled her into a false sense of security.

Ice Prince and Sweetheart Finally Seen on Date: Fairy Tale Romance or Publicity Stunt?

The ‘date’ in question was a coffee and lunch run for her designers and also Tim (because kwami knew he'd work through lunch if allowed).

Damian normally didn’t stay past Lilliane arriving in the morning (the poor dear was chronically late and always the last to arrive) but he hadn’t shown up until after she came that day and overcompensated by hours—which she hadn't minded. He kept to the fringes of her workspace and didn't distract her, instead focusing on his own thing. She wasn’t quite sure what he was up to, but she knew he was switching between his computer and sketchpad every so often.

(She's pretty sure he was hiding from Dick for some reason. He’s the only Wayne brother who doesn’t visit her at work, seeing as they have their bi-weekly gymnastic sessions; recently, with the addition of Mar’i, who still calls her ‘twin’ and whom Marinette still adores.)

And then lunch had rolled around, and it was Marinette’s turn to go out so she brought Damian with since he was still there.

They were out together for forty-five minutes. Tops.

“Why me?” she whines into the surface of her desk.

Damian, the asshole, just laughs at her and she can’t even be mad about it because he’s only just started laughing around her and not hiding behind so many of his walls. He laughs and Marinette knows it's precious so instead of shooting him the glower he deserves, she finds herself having to hide the smile slowly creeping on her face.

***

They’re splashed across the papers again less than a week later, only this time she has her Waynes there too.

Marinette's wearing her bright red sundress and she's somehow convinced Damian to wear a jacket with elaborate crowns and snowflakes embroidered up the sides. Because, as Chloé says: if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

They see the camera this time and the photo splashed across the page the next day is of Marinette laughing with Jason’s arm slung across her shoulders as both he and Damian flip off the camera. Meanwhile, Duke and Cass stand just far enough in frame to capture their expressions of pain and amusement respectively.

(Marinette makes a mental note to order apology gift baskets for the PR department.)

There are a lot of headlines the next day about Marinette’s ‘harem of Waynes’ and how she’s a ‘horrible influence on such bright children’. She spends about ten minutes trying to decide whether she should be horrified or laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it and eventually decides on both.

Adrien, the little shit, sees the headline and immediately prints it out to hang in her kitchen.

It reappears every time she tries to take it down.

***

Gotham does not smile upon daytime heroes.

Not to say that Gotham really smiles on anyone, but it’s especially vicious to those that think they’re owed anything. She’s heard the way Gothamites talk about Superman and The Flash—it’s not exactly what one would call adoring.

But Ladybug's been a daytime hero her entire career and it is not difficult to see that there's something distinctly different about the way daytime heroes and Gotham’s vigilantes operate.

Something more vicious, maybe; something more restrained.

Without the light of day and without the people’s eyes watching them at every moment, the Gotham Bats have become something else entirely.

Signal, their Daytime Protector, is especially strange.

A bat who's meta, straddling the line between day and night. The Day Patrol, trained by the night.

Sometimes, when she and Signal talk about heroing, there is such an odd type of disconnect that it throws her. Nothing horrible or major, but little things she’s sure she wouldn’t notice if she wasn’t so intimately familiar with it all herself.

They don’t always talk about heroing though. After two months, Ladybug is proud to say she seems to be worming her way past his outer shell nicely. He tried so hard to keep his distance from her, but Ladybug’s always liked a challenge, and it isn’t long before she has him relaxing around her.

Well, for a definition of relax anyway. He's still a bat after all.

But then, it’s pretty easy to get past Signal’s barriers when she’s already had practice breaking through the more stubborn bats like Robin and, to an extent, Hood. Not that Signal, or any of the bats, know that.

Which, speaking of the bats, isn’t it a bit weird she’s only met three spread across two of her alter egos? As Ladybug, she’d expect to be hounded by a few of them but the only one she’s met is Signal. She can’t decide if it’s because he’s the only one that operates in the daylight, or if they just don’t want to spook her into running or something.

Either way, they’re going to start giving her a complex. She’s heard so much about the rest of the Batfamily, and not one of them even wants to meet her? Either her?

(Maybe Marinette should ask Robin and Hood what’s up with that? The way they talk about how nosy Red Robin is, she’s surprised he didn’t drop by months ago and- is it weird that she’s offended by vigilantes not prying into her private life?

…Probably.)

***

Marinette blinks, stopping dead in her tracks.

Damian's on her fainting couch, sketchpad in his lap as he waits for her.

“Why are you wearing a beanie?” she blurts out instead of greeting him like a normal person. "You never wear beanies."

Luckily, Damian scowls at her question rather than at her. It’s a subtle but very important difference.

“Sorry,” she apologizes anyway, putting her bag down. “I haven't had coffee yet.”

He hums, then nods to her desk where she finds a steaming to-go mug. Her face lights up and she quickly snatches it, breathing deeply the lovely aroma. “You’re a godsend.”

That brings a quirk to his lips, closer to a smirk than a smile, but progress nonetheless.

After a moment, where she sips at her overly sugary monstrosity—just the way she likes it, when had Damian even noticed that?—and he continues sketching she asks again. “Okay but, I actually am kinda curious. What’s up with the hat?”

He sighs heavily, closing his pad. “It’s… better than the alternative.”

Marinette snorts. “Alternative to what? A top hat?” But instead of snapping back like she expects, he just continues to frown. Immediately, her lips turn down into a concerned frown. “Is there something wrong?”

“Yes,” he grounds out and Marinette puts her coffee down. She’s just about to open her mouth and say something else when he reaches up and rips the beanie off his head.

For the second time in less than five minutes, she stops dead.

Marinette opens her mouth. Closes it. Blinks, but the scene doesn't change.

His hair is still blue.

Damian Wayne's hair is blue.

Damian Wayne’s hair is vibrantly electric blue.

Her hand shoots up to cover her mouth as she tries to stifle her giggles.

Damian’s scowl deepens. He moves to shove his ridiculous beanie back on his head but her hand snaps out before he can.

“No! No, I’m sorry I just-” she giggles again. “You looked so upset by it and you took me by surprise. I like it!”

He glares up at her, still sat on the fainting couch so it’s her who has the height advantage for once.

“Don’t patronize me.”

She rolls her eyes, the hand that wasn’t settled on his arm reaching up to touch the bright strands. It's slow enough that he can stop her, but he, surprisingly, makes no move to.

His hair is a lot softer than she expects it to be. But she supposes he didn’t use that gel stuff today, planning on keeping his hair under a hat the whole time.

“It looks good on you,” she says softly.

He snorts disbelievingly and she smacks his shoulder lightly. “It’s true! I swear you could look good in any color.” She clicks her tongue longingly. “I wish I had your skin tone. I’m too pale to wear pastels like I want.”

He wrinkles his nose at her. “Pastels?”

“Oh you hush,” she quips, finally pulling her hand from his hair. “Anyway, if you don’t like it, why’d you dye it blue in the first place?”

“I… lost a wager with Todd.”

She laughs, starting to move around and get ready for the day. She doesn’t have any meetings scheduled, which means she gets the whole day to create. She’s pretty excited about it.

“I should’ve guessed it was Jason’s doing.”

Damian shrugs, settling back into the cushions. He drapes himself across them in a way that’s effortlessly elegant and like he’s ready to be photographed for a magazine cover or something. Must all her friends be so pretty? It’s playing hell on her self-esteem.

“But blue is your favorite color, right? So there’s that at least.”

Damian hums. “Todd had threatened to dye it pink or some other equally garish color.”

“Hey!” she exclaims in mock outrage. “What’s wrong with pink? I’ve been wanting to dye my hair pink for ages.”

“Nothing. It’s just simply not a color I appreciate.” He makes a face. “Like orange.”

Marinette huffs, but there’s a smile on her lips. It's quiet for a moment, for long enough that she thinks the conversation's been dropped. But then-

“Why don’t you?”

“Huh?”

“Why haven’t you dyed your hair?” he repeats. “Your friends—Couffaine and… Kubdel? They both have colored hair.”

Marinette shrugs. “I dunno. Never got around to it I guess. I suppose I could do it now. Dye mine in solidarity,” she jokes. “Oh! We could match even! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“I thought you wanted pink?”

“Well, yeah. But blue is nice too. Besides,” she smiles wryly over her shoulder, “you just said pink was ‘garish’.”

Damian frowns slightly, shaking his head, “On me, perhaps. But I think you’d look very fetching in pink.”

“Oh,” Marinette pauses, feeling her face grow warm at the sudden compliment. “Well- Uh, pink it is, then.”

***

(Damian watches the blush rise on her cheeks as she turns away to try and hide it. Yes, he can’t help but think, fetching in pink, indeed.)

***

Luka insists on being the one to dye her hair, citing that he’s the one who had dibs all these years, but Alix and Jason both all but demand to be there too.

Her bathroom is not big enough for all four of them to sit in.

Not a single one of them cares.

Cass and Duke ask for progress pics along with Uncle Jay, and all her Parisian friends cycle through standing at the bathroom door to see how it's going.

The constant stream of people looking at her makes her feel not unlike an animal at a zoo. (When she wryly tells this to Alix, all she gets is her friend cackling on the ground.)

But, after all the bleaching and conditioning and waiting, she stares into the mirror with soft pink hair the color of bubblegum and thinks, yeah, it was worth it.

She thinks it again when Damian walks in the next day and almost trips over his own feet.

(She’s also wearing her Robin themed sundress, complete with hood, matching boots and personal touches not found on the mass-produced version—but Marinette doesn’t know why that would be relevant.)

Her favorite reaction to her new hair color though is, by far, Mar’i’s.

Marinette doesn’t see the young Grayson until a week later when she’s invited to the monthly family dinner Alfred insists all the Waynes attend—which includes her now, apparently (she tries not to show how pleased she is by that).

She arrived with Damian, who was kind enough to pick Tim and her up from work, and Mar’i takes one look at Damian and her standing next to one another before she starts babbling excitedly about Lilo and Stitch and Angel. A character who is—apparently—Stitch’s girlfriend and the complimentary pink to his blue.

Marinette is momentarily surprised, but Mar’i’s enthusiasm is contagious and it isn’t long before the rest of the Waynes are teasingly calling them Angel and Stitch. Marinette thinks it’s all very funny and adorable.

Damian, on the other hand, most certainly does not and threatens everyone who calls him that ‘ridiculous nickname’ with graphic depictions of bodily harm.

‘Angel’, oddly enough, sticks for Marinette. She finds she kind of likes it.

***

Later, Damian asks her about nicknames.

Well, he calls them ‘asinine titles’ and doesn’t so much ask as demand she explain why she allows anyone to call her by them seeing as she has a ‘perfectly serviceable name,’ in his opinion.

Ignoring the fact that she’s heard Dick call him multiple nicknames he hadn’t protested to, she says, “Well, I guess it’s that everyone uses Marinette. A nickname is something… special. A little more personal, I guess. And, I dunno. My parents named me Marinette, but it’s nice to share something between other people. And it shows they care.”

Damian looks confused after she’s done, but also thoughtful. He doesn’t say anything to that and Marinette doesn’t really expect anything to come of it.

She's proven wrong when, a week later, Damian calls her Starling instead of Marinette.

(And the transition from Dupain-Cheng to Marinette had been enough to make her beam—this is just ridiculous.)

***

When Robin disappears a second time, Marinette doesn’t get the chance to notice his absence on her own. He’s only stopped showing up four days ago—which is longer than normal, but not unheard of—when she hears unfamiliar voices on her balcony.

Looking out, she finds three semi-familiar individuals clustered around the plate of treats she leaves out for Robin and Hood.

Nightwing and Red Robin are both stuffing their faces full of the fruit tarts she had made while Spoiler glares at them and seems to be cursing the fact that her mask covers her mouth the same way Hood always does when she makes those raspberry scones he likes.

The scene is… odd. For many reasons but most pressingly that their arrival has come out of nowhere.

“Well,” Nightwing explains when she asks, “We wanted to visit ages ago, but baby bird threatened to stab us all if we tried.”

“He’s very… particular about you,” Red Robin tacks on while Spoiler nods sagely like she hasn’t crafted some strange straw monstrosity just so she can drink tea while still wearing her mask. Red Robin has one too, but his for the aesthetic rather than out of necessity.

Marinette stares at the three of them. “That… does not explain why you are here now.”

“Robin can’t stop us now, obviously,” Red Robin says casually, like he hasn't just kicked her heart into high gear with a few words.

“What? Why?” she demands, trying very hard not to sound panicked. “Is he okay? Was he hurt?”

Red Robin blinks, going quiet in that way Hood and Robin do when they’re judging her just a bit. She hates this family.

“No, he’s… fine.”

“B’s just benched him for the time being,” Nightwing helpfully supplies, amusement flickering at the edges of his lips. “He’s a little too… conspicuous at the moment.”

Marinette’s shoulders relax even as her brows furrow. Conspicuous? What in the world is that supposed to mean?

“Does that mean he won’t be coming around for a while?” she asks before she can think better of it.

The three vigilantes in front of her share a look before Spoiler says, “Probably. But the gremlin’s never been one to sit still so who knows?” she smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners as she leans toward Marinette conspiratorially. “But don’t worry. We can keep you company in the meantime!”

“We’re much better company than the demon anyway. Certainly less insulting.”

“Oh, he’s not that bad. He’s an ass, for sure, but you can tell when he means it and when he’s just stumbling over himself.” Marinette smiles fondly, “For someone so dignified, he trips over his tongue quite often.”

Now the vigilantes are really staring at her. She’s starting to feel pretty uncomfortable about it all when Nightwing beams at her, jumping up from his seat to sweep her into a hug. It startles her, but she doesn’t push him away, instead laughing at the sudden affection.

“Oh you really are perfect!” he exclaims, setting her down and still grinning like an absolute lunatic.

She’s smiling, because Nightwing’s joy is infectious, but she's even more confused than before. And then, before she can ask what he means, Red Robin’s wrist computer lights up—and damn, isn’t that cool? Marinette wonders if Tikki could do something like that for the Ladybug suit—and the three are moving to swing back out into the night.

She waves them off and they all promise to visit again.

Marinette shakes her head before going back inside with the empty pastry plate and four empty mugs.

***

Damian knows of Marinette’s friends of course. It'd take more effort not to when she talks about them every chance she gets and tells him all the wild stories about their escapades and misadventures.

(They also all came up in the background check he ran on her when they first met.)

Most of her friends are exceedingly normal oddly enough. Well, they’re all mildly famous and the leaders of their various fields, but they’re just civilians.

The only exceptions being, Bourgeois, Agreste, and Graham de Vanily.

Bourgeois is a former hero like Marinette, only she doesn't seem to still be in contact with the Parisian Court. All the articles he could find spoke about how Queen Bee was deemed unfit for her mantle and later replaced by the new bee hero, Ambrosia. Agreste was caught up in the scandal of his father being Hawkmoth, but he was found innocent and ignorant of his father's crimes (something Damian made sure to confirm). He now works at and is being groomed to own the bakery Marinette's parents run, seeing as their daughter has little interest to do it herself.

And finally, Graham de Vanily, Agreste's cousin, has a history of causing trouble wherever he goes. Nothing villainous, and rarely even malicious, but there's something about him that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Not everything is as it seems with the Graham de Vanily heir.

Besides those three outliers, Marinette's friends seem to be untouched by the vigilante life. Which means he thinks they must be utterly boring.

Only, when her friends start coming around to visit and drag her out for lunch or some other random outing, Damian keeps finding himself baffled by each of them.

They act strangely and with a dangerous air none of them should possess, except for Tsurugi. The questions they ask him are strange and the jokes they make have no sense. He's been warned about how he better treat Marinette so many times, he's started to lose count. (Which is ridiculous. He treats her just fine and would never intentionally harm her. What are they trying to insinuate?)

But, by far, his most memorable encounter is with Lahiffe. A veritable wolf in sheep's clothing.

Marinette is excitedly babbling about her newest idea for her summer collection, pressed up against him on the chaise and practically shoving her sketches in his face as she demands his critique and thoughts.

Her hands are waving every which way and, on more than one occasion, he has to quickly lean back so she doesn't hit him in the face.

He’s focusing on what she’s saying so much—because she has a habit of forgetting things if she doesn’t write them down and needs someone to remind her of the ideas she had at a later time—that he doesn’t even realize Lahiffe is there until he clears his throat.

Marinette jumps, almost elbowing him in the stomach. “Nino!” she shouts, springing up and flinging herself at the other man who catches her like this is something she does often.

“Heya, Nettie.”

“Wait- what are you doing here? You’re not-” she jolts back to look at Lahiffe’s amused expression. “Oh kwami, is it time already? Shit. I wasn’t paying attention. I’m so sorry! I have to give this one thing to Publishing but then I promise we can go, okay? Like, just five minutes!”

She's already moving before she finishes speaking, sweeping up papers and rearranging files and putting things away with all the swiftness and agility of a speedster. Damian watches her go about her routine, occasionally handing her something she’s dropped or pointing out a thing she’s missed, weaving around her chaos with practiced ease.

Then she’s sweeping out of the office with a distracted “be right back!” and he’s alone with Lahiffe.

The second Marinette leaves, the man’s attention swings onto him with a strange weight. For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything and Damian’s hackles raise with every passing second.

He doesn’t snap at him though, because he’s one of Marinette’s friends. Insulting him would only serve to make her upset and that’s something Damian's been trying to avoid causing as of late.

“Man,” Lahiffe says at last. “Alix wasn’t kidding about the whole besotted thing, huh?”

Damian rears back, straightening up to his full height. “I beg your pardon?”

Lahiffe laughs and waves his hand about like that’s supposed to mean something. “Ah, no need to be embarrassed about it, dude. You’re far from the first of us to fall for her charms.”

“What.”

“Yeah, we've all been there. I think over half of the Paris crew crushed on her at some point, including myself. None of us are into her like that anymore, so as long as you treat her right, you got nothing to worry about."

“I’m not- I'm not interested in Marinette,” Damian tries to protest but Lahiffe just calmly steamrolls over him.

“Nah. Everyone loves Nettie. It’s universal law or something. First, there was me and Adrien, then Luka—who she actually liked back for a while there but are now practically siblings. Chloé liked her in collége, but she hadn’t really come to terms with that at the time. Alix might’ve, but she’s pretty grey-ace and fluctuates on the romance points, so who knows.

“Oh! And Nath. He also snagged a date with her, but he was an Akuma at the time so I’m not technically sure that it counts. And he’s with Marc now anyway. Thinking of adopting a kid, last I heard. Anyway- my point was: everyone loves Nettie. And don’t bother trying to fight it, because it only makes her pull of gravity worse.”

Lahiffe then claps him on the shoulder like their talk amiable and not the most confusing speech Damian’s ever heard.

And then he doesn’t even get to say anything to that because Marinette is sprinting back through the door, grabbing her jacket and bag, telling him goodbye, and dragging Lahiffe out to who knows where.

Damian stands there longer than he cares to admit trying to make the world make sense again.

***

A week and a half after she learned Robin was benched, Damian catches her staring off into space as she doodles tiny robins in the margins of her sketchbook.

He gives her an odd look when she scrambles to hide them, blushing hotly and babbling about how she’s “Just fine! Nothing to worry about! I’m just, maybe, perhaps, a little worried for a friend even though I shouldn’t be, because his family says he’s just fine and-”

He looks contemplative when he leaves that day, but he didn’t ask about her outburst, so she extends the same courtesy to him.

***

That night, Robin returns.

“What,” she says around the laughter threatening to bubble out of her throat, “are you wearing?”

Robin scowls from behind the full cowl he has on that she’s pretty sure belongs to Red Robin. It makes him look a whole ten years older and she can’t get over how ridiculous he looks. If he keeps doing stupid things with his face while wearing that monstrosity, she is definitely going to laugh at him.

“What are you wearing?” he shoots back petulantly.

She blinks in confusion, then realizes she’s still wearing her Red Hood inspired jacket right now. Tan colored fake leather with fuzzy, red inner lining, done with all the same pockets, buttons, and zippers Red Hood has on his own jacket. It looks almost exactly like the jacket she fixed for him all that time ago, except she's also added a soft, crimson hood and his own personal bat symbol stitched across her shoulder blades.

As far as things she's designed goes, this is one of her simpler ones. It's nothing like the elaborate creations she makes for the Ambrosia or Ryuko themed items.

But Red Hood was a simple kind of person, and she likes that it’s reflected in her work.

Robin doesn't seem to agree if the poorly concealed disdain on his face means anything.

“What?” she asks teasingly, “You jealous?”

He scoffs and looks off to the side. “Of course not. I simply do not understand why you’d want anything to do with that simpleton. Especially not when I know you have clothing articles referencing far superior individuals.”

She snorts good-naturedly, "What 'individuals'? You mean you?"

The way he raises his nose self importantly is answer enough, and she can't stop herself from rolling his eyes. "Well, it's certainly a start. But I'm not the only one."

"Oh, yeah? And who else is marvelous enough to stand on the same level as you?"

"Multimouse."

Her mouth goes dry, and she can tell Robin is pointedly not looking at her.

“Come inside,” she blurts in lieu of all the things she really wants to say—which are mostly just embarrassing variations of I missed you. “I can, uh, make us tea. If you want.”

It's the first time she’s ever invited him inside and she can see the small bit of shock on his face—well, what she can see of it anyway—before he schools it.

“Yes,” he says in a tone of voice that implies it was his idea in the first place. “That sounds… good.”

She steps aside, allowing him to pass her by into the flat. Only instead of just walking past her, he stops halfway through the doorway and stares at her. She’s about to ask what’s wrong when he reaches out with his hand to gently grab a lock of her hair.

“Pink suits you, by the way.”

She quirks her lips, “Yeah? You don’t think it’s… too much?”

The corners of his mouth turn down, “Absolutely not. You look…” he trails off, mouth flattening into a line and dropping his hand.

She blinks at the odd behavior. “Nice?” she offers tentatively.

He nods, but it’s a little jerky and strange. But before she can ask about it, he’s already turning to enter her flat like he owns the place, remarking about her choices of tea and if she’s finally acquired an ‘adequate teapot’.

She shakes off the moment and goes in to follow him before he wrecks her kitchen in his careless search for tea supplies.

***

MinnieMouse: COME GET YALL JUICE

and by juice i mean me

I still do not have an american license

JaneAustenStanAccount: what do we get out of it?

MinnieMouse: ???

the pleasure of my company??

also youre literally the one that invited me to watch megamind

JaneAustenStanAccount: and??

daisyduke: shut up jay

we all know youre soft for M stop tryin to play tough

MinnieMouse: this is why duke is my favorite

he’s a living callout post

swanlake: :(

MinnieMouse: second favorite

im so sorry cass ily

swanlake: :)

daisyduke: i aint even mad

JaneAustenStanAccount: I AM

guys wtf

MinnieMouse: you brought this on yourself

maybe you should be nicer to me

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

daisyduke: ‘get fucked jason’ -marinette 2k20

btw im omw for you now

MinnieMouse: thnx ur the best

also im bringing scones as movie snack

daisyduke: noice

swanlake: !!!

JaneAustenStanAccount: FUCK YEAH!!!

MinnieMouse: you dont get any Jay

JaneAustenStanAccount: >:(

i hate it here

***

Marinette doesn’t know a lot about Robin’s past, which she assumes is by design. Secret identities don’t lead well to handing out details and concrete information about one’s personal life.

But, she thinks, one would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to not see that whatever facsimile of a childhood Robin had was about eight different levels of fucked up.

It’s in the vague allusions to ‘training’ and the scorn filled way he says the word ‘mother’. It’s in the not-quite-confusion—because whatever family he has is better now, at least—of Marinette telling him about her own parents. About the happy memories she’s shared with them, of learning to bake bread and croissants and macaroons under the loving guidance of her father and practicing delicate designs and frosting techniques with her mother.

So, yeah. She knows he’s kind of messed up and definitely checks off the childhood trauma box that’s apparently one of the requirements for being her friend.

So when Robin suddenly decides to go against everything she’s learned about him up until this point and actually share something about himself—and when that thing he shares just so happens to be a story from his childhood—well… Marinette wouldn’t say she’s prepared, but she’s not- prepared.

He’s in her kitchen, because Marinette has learned her lesson about bleeding vigilantes on her couch, and she’s pretty sure he could’ve gone back to the Cave for this, but he came here for whatever reason. (Was closer, he said. Marinette doesn’t know if she believes him.)

She’s cleaning the knife wound on his arm, and she has his cape laid out across her island. There’s a hole in it she plans on sewing back up after she finishes sewing the hole in her reckless vigilante back up.

“You need to be more careful,” she scolds. “You’re lucky this didn’t nick something important.”

“It's hardly the worst wound I’ve ever acquired,” he tells her in a tone of voice that he probably thinks is reasonable. “At seven years old I had to dig a bullet out of my side in the middle of a Himilayan snowstorm while still making it back to base with time to spare after having successfully assassinated a Russian ambassador.”

Marinette pauses where she’s smoothing the gauze onto his bicep. Her eyes flick up to his, and she sees the exact moment he seems to realize what he just told her. He’s gone utterly still beneath her hands, with terror or worry or the effort it takes not to bolt out the window immediately, she doesn’t know.

“That’s horrifying,” she tells him as she finishes securing the obnoxiously bright bandage, “Never tell me that story again.”

She then drops a kiss onto his bicep, subtly imbuing it with enough luck that it will keep off any infection—the wound was filthy when he came in, seriously, was he in a sewer?—and pats his cheek warmly before moving to clean up all her supplies.

She feels his eyes on her the rest of the night, but every time she turns to him, she can’t tell what he’s thinking. All she knows is that he seems… softer, in a way.

***

Three days after Marinette’s unexpected look into Robin’s past, she finds a box on her desk. It’s a jewelry box, and the only reason she doesn’t immediately freak out is the fact that it lacks any of the miracle box markings.

Still, she opens it hesitantly, and inside, she finds a necklace. A completely normal, non-magical necklace that’s simple and pretty and very much shaped like a tiny toy mouse.

There is no note.

***

(Lahiffe was right.

The Earth spins around the sun. The sky is blue.

Everyone loves Marinette.)

***

The necklace is obviously supposed to be a reference to her Multimouse days, but that doesn’t exactly narrow down who could have left it for her.

Or well, it does, but all the people it narrows down to don’t make any sense.

Multimouse is a badly kept secret, but it’s still a secret. Most people outside Paris don’t know about her and the people in Paris didn’t exactly recognize her off the street either.

Her Court knows, obviously, and so do the Waynes and the bats. But her Court wouldn’t leave her mouse themed gifts, they tend toward ladybugs or their own animal motif as a gift (the amount of cat and bee themed items she owns is ludicrous).

Which leaves the Waynes and the bats.

But her Waynes wouldn’t leave the gift on her desk, and they certainly wouldn’t forget to put a note, so Duke, Jason, and Cass are out.

She must stand there thinking about it too long, because then Jeremy's walking in, just as bright and early as ever.

He sees her holding the box and his face turns a strange mix of curious and outraged. “Is it your birthday? I swear, Boss if you didn't tell us it was your birthday-”

“No, Jeremy,” she says, amused despite her confusion. “That’s not for a while yet. I found this when I walked in,” she shakes the box slightly for emphasis, “but there wasn’t a note.”

“Oh.” A smile slowly spreads across Jeremy’s face. “Oh?” he purrs, waggling his eyebrows at her. “Does the boss have a secret admirer?”

Marinette blinks and- what?

“What? No. I can’t- That doesn’t-” she splutters but Jeremy just laughs and walks over to his station to start setting up for the day, leaving Marinette to her breakdown.

Because this can’t have been left by a secret admirer. That’s just crazy.

There are exactly two people who could’ve left this for her and neither of them would be an admirer of any kind. And she wouldn’t want them to be anyway because that would be stupid and ridiculous and weird.

She doesn’t like Robin or Damian like that…

Right?

***

(It’s impossible not to love her, he realizes, mostly by accident.

She loves, wholeheartedly and unafraid and so much more than Damian had ever thought one person could. She loves with a ferocity and passion no person deserves or can match.

And Damian, foolishly, loves and wishes to be loved by her anyway.)

***

There are roses on her desk the next day, potted and still healthy.

The day after that, there’s a box of expensive chocolates. Like, the kind only Adrien, Felix, and Chloé buy without a second thought. The gossip has spread far enough that all of her designers know about the gifts and probably-admirer.

On the fourth day, there is a box full of high-quality pencils and a new sketchbook, one with nice thick drafting paper, but small enough to fit in her favored bag. Her name is embossed across the front, along with her personal motif of delicate apple blossoms.

On the fifth day, she shows up to find there is only a drawing, which should point to it being Damian, but drawing-her is holding a robin in her cupped palms which cannot be a coincidence. Drawing-her also looks serene and beautiful with her mouth curved slightly and her eyes gentle and soft and Marinette is as touched by the image as she is frustrated by it.

There are hair sticks on the sixth, and delicate pins shaped like flowers on the seventh. Another stunning drawing of her on the eighth, a bottle of wine older than Master Fu on the ninth, the softest cashmere blanket on the tenth, a basket of sweet floral lotions, a glass statue of a bird in flight—she gets so many gifts, Marinette has to stop keeping count.

It’s somewhere around day six that her designers must’ve ratted on her to either Felix or Chloé because it’s not long after that, that all of her friends learn about the gifts and start being terrifically unhelpful about the whole situation.

They each try to give her advice, which would be sweet if it wasn’t all equally terrible and conflicting.

They’re also placing bets on who they think her admirer is, Damian or Robin. They’re trying to be discreet about it—which means they’re failing miserably.

Marinette, admittedly, never expected any different from them.

***

Marinette begins watching Damian in the mornings with a newfound interest.

The gifts are always there before she arrives, which means they're also there before Damian arrives, so she’s in a prime position to catch his reaction.

Or, she would be, if he ever reacted. He barely glances at them and never says anything unless the gift is particularly obnoxious, like the giant stuffed mouse she found sitting in her chair last week. (It was almost as big as she was. Adrien, Nino, and Alix had ended up on the floor from laughing so hard when they’d seen it.)

Damian almost never comments on the gift she received that day, but whenever she uses or wears something that her mysterious admirer had gotten for her, he makes sure to compliment her. Which would be very suspicious except that Robin does the same thing.

It’s just- they’re both so frustratingly silent about it all! Marinette is this close to just grabbing one or both of them by the shoulders and just shaking until they tell the truth.

It’s driving her insane! Before the necklace appeared on her desk, she didn’t even know that she liked Robin and Damian.

And now she’s overanalyzing their nonreactions. She hates it.

It feels too much like she’s back in collège, trying to sort out her feelings for Adrien and Chat. (Who ended up being the same person—which was just very inconsiderate of him, really. The least he could do is let her angst have meaning dammit!)

And- ugh. What if she doesn't even like either of them? What if her mind is just making her think she does because the idea of them liking her was presented? What then? Or what about the fact that the two boys are also ridiculously similar when she thinks about it. What if she only likes one and is just projecting her feelings onto the other because her mind associates the two?

Oh, she doesn’t like that thought. That thought makes her feel upset and like she wants to cry into a tub of ice cream.

Nino happily indulges her and doesn't even complain when she eats her way through his stash of mint chip as she dramatically complains about stupidly confusing boys.

Honestly, she may as well be back in lycée.

***

(What Marinette does not realize in the midst of all her careful analysis of his reactions, is that it’s not the gifts he’s focused on.

When she wears the necklace and hair sticks, she misses the way his eyes linger on the slope of her neck. As she cares for her roses, she doesn’t notice the way he follows the easy nimbleness of her fingers. She uses her sketchbook and eats the expensive chocolates and doesn’t pay attention to the way he steals glances at her lips. She doesn't see the way his hands twitch when she ventures just near enough to touch.

(She exists next to him, in any form or light, and he is captivated by her very presence.)

Marinette looks, but it is in all the wrong places.)

***

Strangely enough, it’s Signal who helps her with her internal crisis—completely unintentionally and in a very roundabout way—but he helps all the same.

He’s taken an… interest, she supposes, in her magic. One that is entirely his own and has very little to do with that Bat from what she can tell.

His abilities and hers stem from different origins, but she would be lying if she said his weren’t oddly complementary to her own. His precognition abilities stemming from his photokinesis has been useful on more than one occasion regarding the experimental spell matrices she, Tikki, and Nooroo have been testing out.

The magic is normally invisible to people without a Miraculous, but Signal seems to have little trouble seeing what she’s doing, even if he can’t interact with it the way she can.

(There is also the fact that she seems… more when he is around. Days that he spends watching her do her work go by faster and smoother than when he is away. Her magic is easier, and her mind spins with ideas and creations faster.

It’s an odd phenomenon and Ladybug is looking into it.)

There has been more than one occasion where Signal had warned her of the matrix’s imminent collapse with enough time for her to prepare herself for its blowback.

The version she’s working on today is their fifth iteration. It’s supposed to pull the miasma out of the building, filter it through her and Tikki’s own magical energy, before flowing back into the brickwork. Marinette had thought of the idea while talking with Nooroo.

If she can get it to work, it will shift the misfortune into good luck and order and release it back into the environment. Then she’ll only need to cleanse strategic portions of the city in a lattice network, and the creative and destructive energies will mix from there, balancing themselves without much input from her at all.

Of course, that’s only if she can actually get it to work. It’s been almost a month and this is the fifth version and it’s already collapsed on her three times in the last hour. Signal must see the frustration on her face and has taken to trying to distract her with small talk.

She’s very thankful for it, actually. If he wasn’t doing that, she would probably start screaming right here and now, on this random rooftop in the residential district. Which would just be very startling and embarrassing for everyone involved, so. You know. Glad she doesn’t have to do that.

Eventually, she asks him, apropos of nothing, “You’re a detective right?”

He pauses, and blinks at her, likely trying to follow the train of thought that led her to that question. She assumes he did not find it because when he speaks, he still sounds confused.

“Yes? I guess that’s technically what I am.”

“So you’re good at figuring out who’s behind a crime?”

Signal only looks more confused. “Yeah? But Ladybug, what-”

“Great, so. Hypothetically, if you had two suspects for a—well it’s not a crime. A… thing? Situation. How would you figure out which one of them is actually behind the… situation?”

Signal’s lips quirk, just a bit despite his confusion. “I think I’m gonna need a little more to go on than just ‘a situation,’ LB.”

Ladybug purses her lips and stares down at the light weaving intricate patterns in the space between her palms. Slowly, carefully, she tells him, “There are items being left where a person can find them. But the identity of the person leaving them and their intentions are unknown.”

“Are the items dangerous?” he asks worriedly.

Ladybug shakes her head. “No. They're more like gifts.”

“Are the gifts unwanted or creepy? Unsettling? Threatening?”

Another head shake. “Just confusing and… thoughtful.”

“Someone is leaving you thoughtful gifts and you're worried about that… why?” Signal asks, slowly and disbelievingly.

“It’s because I- wait! I’m not the person!” she panics, causing the magic to spark dangerously in her hands but she barely notices. “The person doesn’t even exist. It was a hypothetical question!”

Signal stares at her. She can’t see his eyes or the top half of his face, but she just knows he’s raising his eyebrow judgingly at her.

“Stop that!” she snaps. “Stop being perceptive! I have enough perceptive people in my life so knock it off!”

Signal laughs like the horrible person he is. “But don’t you need me to be perceptive? That’s like, a requirement to be a detective.”

“Stop it,” she says again, mulishly and very childish.

And isn’t that an odd thought to have? Ladybug being childish.

How novel. Ladybug has never once been childish. She can’t afford to be, because when she is behind the mask, she is all the most important parts of herself. She is the Grand Guardian, is the one who must be in control at all times because she has an entire team to keep safe and alive.

Behind the mask, she’s all of her greatest responsibilities.

But here, in Gotham and with Signal, she is none of those things to him. She is simply another hero, that is his age and very much like him in ways so few are. Ladybug, in the moments she spends with Signal, is probably the closest she has ever been to carefree while in the mask.

It’s as comforting a thought as it is terrifying.

Signal raises his hands in surrender, but his lips are still quirked in amusement.

Ladybug regrets starting this conversation.

She regrets it even more when, five minutes later, Signal manages to pull the rest of the story from her… along with a name.

She realizes her mistake a second too late to stop herself, and then all she can do is watch.

She watches, with ever-growing horror, as Signal slowly puts the pieces together. She watches, as her whole secret identity starts unraveling around her for the first time ever. She watches, stricken, as Signal opens his mouth to speak.

And then she grabs both sides of his head and Orders him to sleep.

***

The second Marinette bespells him, she regrets it.

She was panicking, okay? And Marinette panicking is very different from Ladybug panicking and truly, she creates messes just by existing.

Nooroo flies out of his hiding place to make distressed noises at the now unconscious Signal with her, which is… actually kinda soothing, if not exactly helpful.

At least she knows she’s not the only one upset right now.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no!” Nooroo frets, flitting around her head with agitated wings. Hers aren’t much better, if she’s being honest. “What are we going to do, Guardian? He knows who you are! This is bad.”

Marinette worries her thumb between her teeth, shifting her weight from foot to foot. With a thought, she's back in her civvies and Tikki is perched on her shoulder, blinking at the scene she’s suddenly a part of.

“Well,” Tikki says, sounding far too calm for the situation. “This isn’t ideal.”

The laugh that escapes Marinette is on the edge of hysterical. “You think?”

“It’s not ideal,” Tikki repeats firmly, “But neither is it a disaster.”

Nooroo lands on her other shoulder as she kneels down beside Signal to rearrange his limbs to not be so uncomfortable. “But he's unpredictable!” he argues, curling into the side of her neck like she will hide him from the world. “We don’t know what he’ll do with this information!”

Tikki hums thoughtfully. “Then we will have to ask. There are far worse people we could have been revealed to. We're lucky it was a friend rather than foe.”

“You think so?” Marinette asks softly, voice barely louder than a whisper.

She knows the Bat’s flock are good people. Many of them are her friends, or people she hopes to call friends soon.

But she doesn't know if these people Marinette calls friends could be Ladybug’s allies.

The bats hoard secrets like black holes, and perhaps they would keep hers just as well, but they could just as easily use it against her. Batman barely tolerates her presence, she can tell by the way Signal talks sometimes, and it is no small stretch of the imagination that he would use this to try and kick her out of Gotham.

Marinette cannot, as a Guardian, leave Gotham.

But more importantly, she doesn’t want to leave Gotham. It’s… her home now. Her friends are here. Her family is here. Robin and Hood and the other bats are here. Damian and all her Waynes are here.

Leaving Gotham would not only make her sick and jittery at the imbalance, but it would break her heart.

If, when Signal tells Batman, he reacts poorly, there is so much that Marinette is set up to lose. And that terrifies her.

Some of that thought process must show on her face—or perhaps Nooroo has just picked up on the turmoil in her chest—because the two Kwami are pressed on either side of her face, nuzzling and hugging as much of her as they can reach.

“We’ll make it through this, Marinette,” Tikki says firmly, no room for argument. “Don’t worry so much. Both of you. Everything will turn out just fine, you’ll see.”

***

@bluesimani @how-to-fuction-properly @chocolatecatstheron @mystery-5-5 @nickristus-dreamer @mochegato @thenillabean @animegirlweeb @novaloptr @darkdaysandfakesmiles @optimistically-pessimistic0524 @clumsy-owl-4178 @g-arya @undecisioned @smolplantmum @blackmagicforever @i-wanna-be-a-ninja @wannajointhecrabcult @paintedhope7 @redscarlet95 @roselynfey @ira-sairain @lozzybowe @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @2confused-2doanything @pepelachanel @too0bsessedformyowngood @miraculouspenta @itsmeevie01 @corabeth11 @jalaluvsu

#maribat #daminette #ml x dc #my typewriter #for us to collide

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chacerider · 2 years

Audio

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ adore this song but haven’t sung in ages, tbh i am mostly posting this because

1) it’d feel weird if i spent like half an hour recording & editing only to do nothing with it

2) maybe this’ll get someone else to do it properly

3) lol very few people are gonna see it here anyway, my embarrassment shall be limited

(Anyway, the piano cover I used for backing is over here, please support the person with actual talent lol)

EDIT: lyrics might help, i’ll go ahead and put those beneath the cut ahaha;;

Your eyes that shone and seemed so bright Hid their pain and sadness away inside Through it all, you looked ahead Toward the endless sky above us

Let your heart be soothed and rest And jump beyond time, towards hope!

Though you were once alone Our hands reach out to you Holding on so tightly, an unshakeable faith That though it may hide in deepest darkness Yet still

Hope will shine brightly, never to fade again Though we’ve seen loneliness and pain untold Hand in hand, we move on together Towards a day where we’re smiling

#ultraman #ultraman trigger #music #english cover #ah my singing is amateur at best #but i really really love this song ;w;#someone go do it better pls

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pumpkinpaix · 4 years

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HI! I'm new to the MDZS fandom and I fell in love with Suibian, but you don't see it that much. I seen somewhere that it would burn out a weaker core and I cried cause I wanted to see that, and as far as I know it doesn't happen anywhere. I'm wondering if you could tell me anything and everything you know about Suibian. I'm starving for anything about it

hi anon! ahahah, it’s always a dangerous thing to ask me about “anything and everything” on a topic because I usually have too many thoughts, most of which are unorganized. but! if you’re interested in that, then here we go!

First, re: your comment about Suibian burning out a weaker core: I am not aware of this theory (or is it something from an interview?? if someone knows, please say so!), but if it brings you joy, then it’s certainly an interesting one to consider! Unfortunately, I don’t have much more to say on it because I’m unfamiliar with it, but I do have quite a lot to say on some other Suibian concepts!

ask and ye shall receive (a very jumbled heap of thoughts as i spiral further and further out of control):

[all rough translations are mine, and thus all mistakes are mine. I am using the version of the novel that is available on luoxia because I can’t be bothered to go flipping through my print edition ahaha.]

the questions about Suibian that interest me the most are why it sealed, when it sealed, when Wei Wuxian began to wield it again, and what that might all mean. I’m going to be talking about novel, CQL, and audio drama canon all together, because I think looking at each canon alone and in combination can raise a lot of very different points!! (I have not watched the donghua or read the manhua yet, so forgive me, I have nothing to say about them. /o\)

So! the one piece of information that we’re given consistently throughout all three of the canons is that Suibian was sealed after Wei Wuxian’s death and that no one but Wei Wuxian himself (and Jiang Cheng, by proxy) could draw it from its sheathe. Thus, Wei Wuxian’s identity is revealed and the golden core swap comes to light. Wei Wuxian is surprised by this, and asks Lan Wangji, “Did it really seal itself?” (novel, chapter 63; CQL, ep 42; audio drama, S2E15).

The novel and audio drama both include a line from Wei Wuxian that emphasizes Wei Wuxian’s surprise, implying that sword-sealing is very uncommon:

万中无一的大好事竟然让我给撞上了

Something incredible that happens less than once per ten thousand times, and I actually encountered it.

the irony, of course, is that this incredible thing is what ended up blowing his cover. rip Wei Wuxian.

but what I think gets really interesting is comparing different points at which Suibian sealed itself and what that might imply in conjunction with other information. Jin Guangyao says “shortly after” his death, but CQL includes a scene in episode 19 that implies that Suibian actually sealed itself much earlier.

[ID: Gif from episode 19 of the untamed drama. Lan Wangji attempts to draw Suibian after he and Jiang Cheng storm the Nightless City and retrieve their swords. He cannot pull it from the sheathe. /end ID]

(in case anyone is curious, it’s about 30 minutes in. I spent the effort to make the gif, so I might as well give you the timestamp lol)

this scene takes place during the period of time when Wei Wuxian is in the Mass Graves (aka the Burial Mounds) after Wen Chao cast him down and left him for dead, right near the beginning of Sunshot. I’m fairly certain it’s not mentioned in either the novel or the audio drama, so this is a CQL-only detail. (please correct me if I’m wrong; I get my canons muddled all the time //hides face)

CQL basically does nothing narratively with this scene other than giving us some sad shots of Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng (honestly, valid ;A;) but!! if we decide to accept this scene as our jumping off point, we can get to some interpretations about Wei Wuxian using information from the other canons!

take this exchange from chapter 57 of the novel (immediately prior to the massacre at lotus cove):

江澄道：“还不是又为咱们的剑的事去温家了。一想到我的三毒现在说不定被哪只温狗握在手里，真是……”

他面露嫌恶之色，魏无羡道：“可惜咱们的剑还不够灵，要是能自动封剑，那就谁也别想用了。”

江澄道：“你再修炼个八十年，说不定可以。”

Jiang Cheng said, “He’s gone to the Wen sect regarding our swords again, hasn’t he. Whenever I think that my Sandu might even now be in some Wen-dog’s hands, ugh…”

His face filled with loathing, Wei Wuxian said, “What a pity our swords don’t have enough spirit. If they could seal themselves, then no one could even think about using them.”

Jiang Cheng said, “If you kept cultivating for another eighty years, maybe.”

from the novel, it seems clear that sword-sealing is something that only happens when a person’s cultivation level is exceptionally high. if this is true, and we go with the CQL timeline of Suibian sealing itself long before Wei Wuxian’s death, it means that Wei Wuxian’s cultivation level wasn’t just high, it was leagues above pretty much anyone else when he was still a teenager. (In fact, Suibian had most likely already sealed by the time this conversation takes place.)

If we don’t go with CQL’s timeline, however, I think we could make a very different argument. It’s a bit of a reach, but I think it’s a lot of fun, if you’re willing to come with me on this journey!

Jin Guangyao says Suibian sealed itself “shortly after” Wei Wuxian’s death, but we don’t really have external confirmation of that. For all we know, someone only bothered to test it sometime after his death, and Suibian had been sealed for some indefinite amount of time. All we can say for sure is that by some point shortly after Wei Wuxian’s death, Suibian was already sealed and resisted being drawn by anyone who tried it.

We’re told over and over that one can only wield a spiritual sword effectively if you have a golden core/the spiritual energy to match it. Wei Wuxian stops carrying/using Suibian because he knows that in his hands, it will act as nothing more than an ordinary sword. His method of cultivation is no longer suitable for the sword. Suibian is tied to both Wei Wuxian’s soul and his golden core.

If sword-sealing only happens when the cultivator’s level is unbelievably high, then I think we can make the argument here that by the time of his death, Wei Wuxian’s core was likewise unbelievably strong – but Wei Wuxian is no longer the one developing his core. Jiang Cheng is.

I know it’s a ridiculous reach. To be clear, I don’t think the text actually intends this or supports this in any meaningful way, but I do think that it gives us some very tasty potential!! If Suibian sealed itself sometime after the core transfer (which, honestly, we wouldn’t know – after all, who’s been trying to draw Wei Wuxian’s sword?), but just if, I think we can plausibly make the argument that Jiang Cheng’s cultivation is truly extraordinary.

:DDDDDDDD

It’s fun right?? It’s a fun concept!!! Even if it’s nonsense, even if it’s not that deep, even if this was an unintentional coincidence, I think it would be interesting to look at this as being some kind of measure of Jiang Cheng’s accomplishments. On the flip side, I also think it’s very important thematically that Jiang Cheng’s value as a person has nothing to do with his cultivation, that he is, in fact, always second-best, but that doesn’t make him any less worthwhile or deserving of love. Maybe I’m just projecting lmao. Of course, being extraordinary doesn’t preclude him from still lagging behind Wei Wuxian–Wei Wuxian might have just been more extraordinary ahahah. We can have both!!

Now for a totally different thing! Interestingly, this conversation about cultivation levels and sword-sealing (the one with Jiang Cheng) also happens in the audio drama, S2E12 (about 15 minutes in, since I just checked), but Wei Wuxian adds an additional comment:

(don’t have the transcription of the original chinese, I’m just going to translate it as I hear it)

“But maybe you don’t need to cultivate to a certain level to have your sword seal itself. What if there were some other way?”

these two versions of the conversation actually imply pretty different things, I think! this addition opens the possibility to the audience that sword-sealing is possible even without an extraordinary level of cultivation, and I think lends credence to the idea that Suibian is just an unusually loyal sword, regardless of Wei Wuxian’s cultivation level. Whether that’s something inherent to Suibian’s “personality”, or whether this says something about how Wei Wuxian inspires loyalty wherever he goes, or whether it just speaks to the strength of their bond remains to be seen.

(obviously, this could imply any number of other things as well, but I find this to be the interpretation that makes me happiest.)

If we go with “Suibian seals itself after Wei Wuxian’s death” in this canon, I think this emphasizes the loyalty aspect with a touch of grief.

If we combine this with CQL and have “Suibian has been loyal since he was a teenager”, that also emphasizes the loyalty aspect – just in a different way.

Of course, doing meta combining unique details from different canons is largely pointless in terms of crafting any real “analysis”, so I’m mostly saying all of this because I enjoy the process of building the supercanon in my head that brings me the most joy! To summarize the varied interpretations I’ve brought up in this post:

CQL-only: Suibian sealed itself when Wei Wuxian was a teenager, at latest, by the time he was thrown into the Mass Graves.

Novel-only: Sword-sealing is very rare and achievable only through extraordinarily high cultivation. Shortly after Wei Wuxian’s death, Suibian is discovered to have sealed itself, so Wei Wuxian’s core, by the time of his death, was extraordinarily powerful.

Audio drama-only: Sword-sealing is considered very rare and achievable only through extraordinarily high cultivation, but might also be accomplished by other methods. Shortly after Wei Wuxian’s death, Suibian is discovered to have sealed itself. If Wei Wuxian’s core is not wildly and improbably powerful, this implies that Suibian has become an exceptionally loyal sword by the time of his death.

CQL/novel: Wei Wuxian was already incredibly powerful by the time he was a teenager.

CQL/audio drama: Suibian has been exceptionally loyal to Wei Wuxian since at least his teenage years.

Novel and audio drama-only have a much wider range of when Suibian could have sealed itself, as mentioned, so there are further variances within those interpretations.

there’s a lot of potential here!! with my personal feelings regarding the story, I like novel-only with Suibian sealing post-core transfer, audio drama-only with Suibian sealing post-Wei Wuxian’s death, or CQL/audio drama with Suibian sealing as a teenager pretty much all equally. I think the CQL/novel interpretation gets too close to casting Wei Wuxian as a hyper-special and innately noble individual in a way that undercuts the strength of his character arc, but that’s my opinion. (As an aside, this is actually one of my major complaints about CQL in general, independent from what I’m talking about here. But that is a topic for another day ahahaha. To be clear, I still love CQL very much, despite my many frustrations!)

As for what I think is the most “likely” to be the “right” interpretation (whatever that’s worth), I would probably say the one that emphasizes Suibian’s loyalty with Suibian sealing post-death, because I think it’s the most thematically cohesive and has the textual support to back it. (I think it’s a valid interpretation even using novel-only text; it’s just slightly less explicit without the additional comment from Wei Wuxian.)

A final detail:

We don’t get anything from either CQL or the novel that explicitly addresses when/if Wei Wuxian is able to wield Suibian again, but the audio drama’s rendition of the “Yunmeng” extra very subtly indicates that by the time that extra takes place, Wei Wuxian has cultivated a golden core and is carrying his sword once more. You only get it at a couple of moments, but Suibian sometimes clinks when Wei Wuxian moves or when he bumps into something. The two instances I can remember specifically are when Lan Wangji tosses the ring onto him (the ring hits Suibian), and when he’s rowing the little boat onto the lotus pond and the motion makes a sound. It’s!!! Extremely good!!! It makes my heart very full!!!!!

ANYWAYS, if all of my scattered rambling didn’t fill the Suibian-shaped hole in your heart, I would also like to recommend @zeldacw‘s wonderful WangQingSuiChen series of comics, featuring anthropomorphized versions of Wangji guqin, Chenqing, Suibian, and Bichen. I believe the most recent comic is here, and there are links to the rest of the comics in the post. If you just want her general tag for the AU (which is more than just the comics), it’s here!

If you have interest in listening to the audio drama yourself, you can purchase it through the MissEvan app (Mao’er FM). There are buying instructions linked in this post! If you need English subtitles, @suibiansubs is the group that does them. :)

I really can’t recommend the audio drama enough, tbh, it’s really really dear to my heart, and the team clearly worked so hard and cared so deeply for the story they were trying to tell. Consider this my regularly scheduled plug for the audio drama ahaha.

As always, my meta is my meta and if you don’t vibe with it, that’s chill! I change my opinions constantly (I think I changed them like three times in the course of writing this ahahaha), and I know some of my older meta has been making the rounds and every time I see it I think about all the ways my views have shifted since I wrote it rip. For this post moreso than usual, I want to emphasize that pretty much all of the meta included in this is meant to explore intriguing what-if possibilities, not for serious literary analysis purposes. I am aware that a lot of this is reaching/overinterpreting into implications that probably aren’t there. I just think they’re fun to consider!

so this was a mess, but I hope you or someone out there enjoyed it anon!!

(ko-fi, if you’re so moved)

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