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nanaminokanojo · 3 years

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BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 3/3 [COMPLETED]

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“You up for it?”

You were sitting at your usual spot at Maki’s. It was still quite early so the pub wasn’t as crowded as it usually is, and it was a weekday. You were there to meet Sukuna but the owner suddenly started chatting you up like she usually does, beating around the bush for a bit before she finally asked you a favor. Apparently, they’re under-staffed and is in need of another waitress but hiring a new one was out of the question since it was a temporary post, just until the person who really works for her recovers from a broken ankle.

“It’s just from four in the afternoon to eight on weekdays, and since you’re usually hanging around here during those times, I thought of asking you. We’re just really short of hands for the next week,” she said, flashing you a rueful smile. “I asked Ieiri but she’s in the middle of her internship.”

Maki had been there for you before, talking to you when you had issues you couldn’t share with your friends and always giving you free non-alcoholic drinks during your exams, and you didn’t see anything wrong with helping her out for once. You’ll earn from it, too. “Sure. When do I begin?”

She clapped her hands excitedly which took you aback. She’s always so tough, barking orders here and there or putting rowdy customers in their proper places, that you didn’t really expect her to be all giggly and excited all of a sudden. “You’ll do it?”

“Yeah, why not?”

She hugged you then. “Oh my god, Y/N. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You waved her aside, chuckling. “It’s fine. It’s for a week anyway. No big deal.”

She sighed in relief. “You don’t know how much weight you’ve taken off my shoulders, so it is a big deal. Okay for you to start on Monday?”

You nodded.

“I’m giving you all the cherry blossom tea smoothie you want.” She grinned cheekily at you then. “And speaking of cherry blossoms, I noticed you and Sukuna coming here together. Are you together now?”

You felt your face heating up at the mention of the man's name but you shook your head. "Not yet."

"Yet?"

You chuckled awkwardly. "We're working it out, I guess. We're not exclusively dating though and he isn't my boyfriend..." You felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. It's the first time you're saying it out loud, what Sukuna isn't to you, and you had to admit the notion was kinda disappointing. But the problem was with you. "Yeah...just that."

"He likes you though. I see the way he looks at you." Maki smiled knowingly at you. "Does this have something to do with your no dating policy? It's ridiculous if you ask me. Sukuna is a good man."

Ah, straightforward as always. "I know that. That's why I'm letting him have a go at changing my mind."

"And is he successful so far?"

"He's almost there." You frowned then, catching her comment about him. "You seem to know him well."

"We go way back," Maki explained. "My old man still owns the pub when he was a student and he came here all the time listening to me and that old geezer fight."

"Oh. That must have been a sight."

"Plus he's friends with my cousin, Toji."

You tilted your head in question. Sukuna never really talked about his friends, and he has never introduced you to any of them. It’s the first time you’re hearing about that side of him. “Really? What was he like back then?”

Maki snorted. “He was an idiot who had too much time in his hands. He’s smart, but had a penchant for mischief. I mean, I guess you already figured that out just looking at him. Nobody really thought he would end up to be this big-shot architect.”

You laughed. “Really?”

“Toji’s influence, I guess. That one’s a bigger idiot.” She looked deep in thought for a moment then said, “Why his wife chose him instead of Sukuna is a puzzle.”

You were confused. You did not know what she was talking exactly, and why her cousin’s wife should have chosen Sukuna was beyond you. For some reason, you didn’t have a good feeling about it, then you remembered what he told you before about dating just one person.

Could it be… “No…” You didn’t even realize you said that out loud until Maki held onto your hand, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry. I said too much.”

“Well, don’t stop now,” you found yourself saying, unable to help it. “Is the situation what I think it is? Your cousin’s wife…He told me before that he only ever steadily dated one girl. Is it…?”

Maki nodded, grimacing. “They cheated on him six years ago.”

“So, he lost his girlfriend and best friend?” You felt your heart break at the thought. You might not have known him back then, but you couldn’t help but feel bad on his behalf.

“Yes. I’m not saying it’s his fault, but he’s hardly ever there since he was busy.”

“It’s not enough grounds for them to do that!” you stated loudly, feeling genuinely hurt for him. Damn, if he dated just one woman ever and never had a relationship again before you – for six years – then that spoke volumes of how much it affected him afterwards. You caught yourself and flashed Maki an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

“Understandable.” She sighed. “He went overseas and didn’t come back until just two years ago. Guess why he came back.”

“Why?”

“To attend their wedding.”

You didn’t know what was more messed up, but you also know Sukuna to be a genuinely good person. If he disappeared for that long only to come back to attend his best friend and ex’s wedding, then it only meant he totally forgave them. If he was giving another relationship a chance, particularly with you, then it also meant he has healed. How he could be so caring and affectionate towards you despite what he went through astonished you, but maybe that’s just how he really was as a person.

“Are they okay now?”

“Yes.” She laughed slightly then. “You should see how he dotes on Toji’s son.”

Maki ruffled your hair, seeing how you’ve reacted. “Just one piece of unsolicited advice, Y/N. If you decide to be with him, be certain about it and don’t ever hurt him.”

You only nodded, taking her words to heart. She was right. Just as you were afraid to be left alone, nobody deserves to be hurt like that. You wanted to be angry at the fact that his own best friend did that to him but at the same time, you were proud of him for coming out of it while maintaining a good view about the whole concept of relationships and perhaps love. It radiated in the way he treated you, and all the effort he is putting into making things work despite your hesitations.

He arrived a few moments later, showing you that crooked smile of his. You both had one beer, and over that, he asked about your day and he told you about yours. When you were finished with your drinks, he said, “Mind going out for a drive? I wanted to tell you something.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t meet his eyes after what Maki told you, and several times, he asked if you were okay to which you responded affirmatively, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

Sukuna took you to the cliffs just around the city limits, parking his car a few yards from the edge enough to have a good view of the sea of lights below. When he killed the engine, you disembarked from his Jeep, walking closer to the edge when you felt his hand on your arm.

“Not too close to the edge,” he said, looking at you with concern written all over his face, but before he could ask what was bothering you, you said, “You were going to tell me something.”

At that, he sighed as if in long-suffering. “Yes, that.” He looked at you seriously as if he was going to tell you something grave only to end up saying, “I’m going to be away for two weeks starting Monday. I’m going to London.”

Momentarily forgetting about your conversation with Maki, you blinked, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “Why did you have to look like you’re about to tell me you’re going to be executed or something? Jesus, Sukuna.” You laughed despite yourself.

“Don’t laugh. I’m annoyed.” He pouted. “Aren’t you sad? Two weeks is a long time. I won’t get to see you, and I have to check for time zones if I want to talk to you over the phone.”

You held his hand, twining your fingers with his before raising it to plant a kiss on his knuckles. “I will miss you, but you don’t have to be so upset about it. I’ll be right here when you come back. Stop being all dramatic.”

“I’m not!”

“You’re funny.”

He rolled his eyes, but then said, “So, before that, I was planning to take you to meet my best friend and his wife on Saturday. I’ve been telling them about you…”

The rest of his words faded, the only thought registering in your head was how he mentioned his best friend and his wife. You were going to meet them. You couldn’t say no to that given that they seem to play integral parts in his life despite what happened. “Okay.”

“You’re gonna love their little boy,” he said excitedly.

“Sure…”

“But really, Y/N? You won’t have a whirlwind romance with some college brat while I’m away?”

You let go of his hand, stepping back. You didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit. Not when he was speaking from experience. “What do you take me for?!” The words came out a little harsher than you intended, the resentment you felt for his previous relationship resurfacing.

He arched a brow at you, puzzled at your outburst. “Y/N, I was kidding.”

Not able to hold back anymore, you turned away from him as tears started flooding your vision. You didn’t even know why you were crying over the whole thing, and you just felt like an idiot as you faced him again, frantically drying your tears.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He looked alarmed as he held onto both of your hands, stopping you from wiping harshly at your face. “Why are you crying? Is it because of what I said?”

You shook your head. “No…no. Can I hug you though?” you asked and he almost laughed as he himself drew you closer, wrapping his arms around you. “You never have to ask.”

You did the same, holding onto him tightly, hoping it was enough for you to get rid of any feeling of hurt left in him if there was any to begin with; that it was enough for him to be at ease where you were concerned when he goes away. Still, you wanted to make sure. You stayed like that until you’ve calmed down, thinking you were doing it more for yourself than for him.

“What brought this on?”

“You won’t get mad?” you asked between hiccups, looking up at him.

“Why would I?”

“Promise me first. I just don’t want to hide anything from you and it’s been bothering me.”

“Okay. I promise.” As if to emphasize his words, he pecked you on the tip of your nose. “Now what is bothering you?”

“Since you mentioned your best friend,” you began, “Toji, right?”

He eyed you, nonplussed. “How did you know?”

“Maki told me…” You started tearing up again. “She-she told me w-what happened. Everything…so I know…Please don’t get mad.”

He clucked his tongue. “That woman. Seriously.”

“I’m glad she told me and I’m sorry if I pried, but I can’t…”

“Is that why you’re crying?”

“Y-yes.”

“Why?”

“Because they hurt you.”

His expressions softened. “Silly.”

You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around him. “It’s not silly. Nobody deserves that, least of all you. You’re always so good to me, and I can’t imagine anybody doing that to you, least of all your best friend.”

Sukuna’s hug tightened a tad, placing his chin on top of your head. “No sense crying about it anymore, Y/N. I’ve forgiven and forgotten. It wasn’t their fault if they felt that way when I went away. They found common ground, I guess. Toji thought he was losing his best friend and she felt the same way.”

“Okay.”

“If it isn’t too much to ask, I want you to get to know them, too, just like I want to be close to Satoru, Suguru and Ieiri. They’re important to me.”

“Okay.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes.” You met his gaze. “If they’re important to you, then I will do that for you and meet them.”

He wiped away your tears then. “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” you mumbled, breathing in deeply. “Sorry you had to see me like this.”

“You don’t have to hide anything from me.” He shrugged then, snickering. “Maki’s timing sure is impeccable.”

And so, Saturday came and you held onto Sukuna’s hand as he helped you out of the Jeep after parking in front of a two-story house with pale yellow walls and white shutters. Before it was a small, well-tended yard surrounded with white picket fences, very much like the house you grew up in under the care of your grandfather. A small, plastic slide and swing set was placed on the grass along with a tiny bike and some toys in the sandbox.

“You okay?” he asked, interrupting your reverie. When you nodded, he said, “You’re not gonna cry, are you?” making you smack him on the arm. “Ow?”

“Serves you right.”

Just then, the door opened revealing this couple you assumed to be the Fushiguros. They looked good together, both with raven hair with their equally dark-haired little boy who looked about eighteen months old, all chubby cheeks and pudgy cuteness.

Toji was this big, hulking man with a vertical scar on the right side of his mouth which oddly added to his charm instead of marring his handsome face. He was carrying his little boy in his muscular arms, taking the edge off his tough looks. He was the first one to approach.

"Hi. Y/N, right?"

"Yes, hi." You shook his hand, smiling genuinely despite your previous notions regarding him and his wife who also stepped forward, taking your hands in hers. She was beautiful, too, and she gave you this feeling of coming home with her bright eyes and kind smile. You couldn’t blame Toji for falling for her, then again, Sukuna used to be in love with her, too.

"You're so pretty!" she said as a way of greeting. "I'm Mirai. It's nice to meet you."

Toji glanced at Sukuna, the gesture injected with meaning. "It's nice to finally meet you. Typically, he's quiet, but he won't shut up about you."

"Shut up," Sukuna muttered.

"It's nice to meet you both." You chuckled. "He isn't quiet around me either." Then your eyes shifted to their kid. You weren't exactly enamored with the idea of children, but you understood what Sukuna meant. "Hi, little angel," you couldn't help but say to the boy who was looking at you with wide, sparkly eyes framed with long lashes. "Your son is lovely."

"Thank you," Mirai returned happily, watching her son reaching for you. "Aww, Megumi likes you."

"Megumi," you repeated. "Blessing?"

"Yes," Toji said proudly and you gathered from his statement that he named the baby.

You looked towards Sukuna as if for assurance as you reached out. "May I hold him?"

"Sure." Toji handed Megumi to you and you followed after them as they led you and Sukuna into their home, marveling at how well-behaved he was, just leaning against your chest and sucking on his thumb, all warm and smelling like baby powder and everything that reminded you of happiness.

The two men went to the living room to catch up while you went to the kitchen with Mirai who was curiously asking you one thing after the other.

"Sukuna told us you're a student. What are you studying?" she asked as she stirred something in a pot.

"Comprehensive literature," you answered, untangling Megumi's hand from your hair.

"Are you sure you're okay carrying Megumi?" Mirai threw you a rueful smile.

You nodded, beaming warmly at the child. "I don't mind. He's so adorable."

Mirai smiled lovingly at her son. "Isn't he? I was so happy when I first had him and saw how much he looked like his dad."

"Yeah, he's like a mini version of Toji. He has your eyes though."

“Thank you.” She grinned. "So, how long have you known Sukuna?"

"Just almost half a year. Around that."

"Guy's whipped for you, Y/N."

"I heard that!" Sukuna called out from the living room. He suddenly entered the kitchen, plucking Megumi off your arms saying, "My turn. How's my favorite boy?"

You just snickered, your thoughts elsewhere. It got you wondering if you would even have met Sukuna if things didn't turn out the way they have. You were picturing Sukuna standing beside Mirai instead of Toji but you just couldn't and it got you contemplating that maybe things ended up the way they did because that's what's meant to be.

As opposed to your resentment to what they did to him, you were now glad, perhaps even thankful and more understanding of Sukuna's reasons for letting things go and remaining friends with them. Because if those things didn't happen, you won't have him. Because if they didn't turn out that way, you wouldn't be watching him being all silly and adorable with Megumi, giving you a picture of what kind of father he would be when he did have kids. Because then, you wouldn't be considering the possibility of a future with anyone…with him.

Then you froze as your feelings for him became clearer. Because why else would you be spending all your time with him, being close to him and getting to know him? Why were you so keen on making sure he was happy? Why were you hurting on his behalf? Why was the world suddenly a better place despite the fact that you're supposedly alone?

It was simple. You're in love with him.

"Y/N?" you heard his deep voice resonating from inside your head then louder as your vision began to focus. He was standing in front of you with Megumi in his arms.

"Huh?"

"You okay? You were spacing out."

"Just thinking." You bit your lower lip, looking apologetic.

"Getting lost in your own world again, I see?" he teased.

"Getting lost in yours is more like it."

He and Miriai looked at you at the same time, the latter giggling pretty much like Ieiri whenever you told her about Sukuna. "You two are so cute."

You brushed the comment off, approaching her. "How can I help?"

You set the table with Toji's help, listening to him talk about Megumi and Mirai with such profound fondness and pride. Just like Sukuna, his appearance was an irony to his funny and soft personality it was disconcerting.

"It's great to have guests over. We rarely do this but Sukuna comes here every Saturday, and well, he isn't a guest anymore," Mirai said as she fed Megumi.

"Thanks for having me then," you replied, still fixated on their kid who was babbling about with his mouth full while he repeatedly knocked a plastic spoon on his high chair.

The conversation was light, circling on their old days, but you knew they were trying to skirt around the ugly things. Mirai regaled you of how Toji got the scar on his mouth. Turns out he and Sukuna were street racers at some point. "Easy cash," as the former had put it. "I mean who wants a part time job if you earn thousands a night?"

"So, what do you plan to become after you graduate?" she asked you again.

"A writer, maybe?"

At that, Sukuna started telling them about your date at the fancy restaurant and how you pretty much nailed the story of the lone old woman who gave you wine. "She's amazing like that," he said fondly, absently patting you on your thigh.

"I'm sure Y/N here finds you impressive, too," Toji teased. "Right, Y/N?"

"Yeah, he smells awfully great it's making my thoughts incoherent," you sallied, "But jokes aside..." You let your voice trail off on purpose, gauging his reaction.

"What?" he prompted.

"That's for me to know," you finally stated, making the couple laugh.

"No fair!"

After lunch, you helped Mirai clean up. Megumi was asleep in his crib after his meal and the guys stood by the backdoor, enjoying some beer. You dried the plates quietly while she washed and told you about Toji.

"It's like raising two kids, really," she told you. "He doesn't pick up after himself and our Megumi is more considerate than he is."

"But you love him," you teased.

"With all that I am." Her eyes strayed to Sukuna then. "Cherish him. Don't let that one get away."

At her words, you felt the same hurt you did when you first learned what the real deal was with them from Maki. You blood boiled out of the blue as thoughts started racing in your head a hundred miles per second. How dare she say that to you when she herself let him go? How dare she hurt him like that and yet keep him as a friend?

The sound of something breaking brought you out of your trance, and you realized the plate you were wiping had fallen onto the floor. But your attention was on her, your steely eyes hard and intense as you said, "You're the last person I expect to be telling me such things."

"I..."

You stepped away from her only to be met by Sukuna's disappointed expression, but you ignored that as well as you turned away. "Excuse me,” you said, bowing slightly as you walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, grabbing your bag before walking out of the house.

The crisp autumn air blew coldly against you, ruffling your hair and your dress as you stood there, not really knowing where to go or what to do. Suddenly, you felt stupid for saying something like that to Mirai when she had been nothing but nice towards you, her and Toji. You also liked their son. And judging by how Sukuna looked at you, you had this niggling feeling that you've ruined it all, eating at you from the inside out.

Just then, the door opened and closed behind you. You didn't have to turn around to know it was Sukuna who followed you out. You've grown so accustomed to his presence that at times, he only had to look at you and you already understand what he wants to convey.

"Y/N, sweetheart, what's going on?" he asked, trying hard to keep the edge off his tone.

You didn't turn to face him, afraid of what you will see. "You heard what I said. Do I really have to explain?"

He walked around you, grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you slightly. "I thought we're over this. I thought I already explained this to you."

That doesn't cut it, you thought but opted not to say it. He might have told you that he has forgiven and forgotten, and although you weren't involved in it, you still felt displeasure whenever you remembered it. It wasn't as if Mirai and Toji did you wrong, and it wasn't as if you had the right to say shit but she didn't have the right to tell you anything either knowing to herself what she had done. You didn't want to hear anything from her about what you ought to do and decide where Sukuna was concerned. It just didn't sit right with you.

"I know. I'm wrong. I get it," you snapped, shrugging his hands off you. "I wanna go home." You started walking away from him, but you stopped when he said, "What is wrong with you?"

You turned back, breath snagging as you let out a mirthless chuckle. "What is wrong with me?" you repeated, your voice coming out soft but with a bitter edge to it. "I know I am wrong for blurting out the things I did, and I am sorry."

"Y/N –"

"But don't strip me of my right to be angry when Mirai tells me to cherish you and not let you go as if she has any right to do it," you cut him off. "I didn't have the right to call her out on her transgressions to you, but don't tell me I can't cry or be mad at the fact that you had to go through all that because I care too damn much for you!"

Your eyes started to fill with tears as you regarded him, seeing the world come alive with blossoms dancing in the wind while in reality, the world was at its last legs, leaves falling all around you. Whenever you looked at him, you felt like everything was flourishing, filling your existence with beautiful things in an abundance of colors. "I'm so in love with you that I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt. I hate it when I know you're tired but you still smile for me anyway. I hate it when you look disappointed whenever I hesitate and couldn't make up my mind."

"I'm sorry for reacting the way I did. I was being a jerk, but that's how much I love you. I love you, Sukuna, more than I can possibly tell you. I can't pretend I don't."

"Say that again," he murmured.

"What?" you demanded gruffly, too caught up in your emotions to comprehend.

"You said you love me. Say it again." Now he looked like he was about to cry, eyes glistening even as he smiled wide with joy, drawing nearer and taking your hand in his.

You sighed in relief, feeling your chest loosen up. It felt great saying it out loud. Beyond just great. "I love you."

The moment you let go of the words, you were wrapped up in his warmth, his arms tight around you while you listened to the thundering beats of his heart. He held you at arm's length, looked deep into your eyes as he cupped your face and leaned in to claim your lips in a brief kiss. Spring has come in the middle of autumn, filling your senses and making you feel like you could fly. He held you in place, eyes closed as he touched his forehead to yours, letting out a shaky laugh.

"Do you mean that?" He opened his eyes slowly and you were lost in their depths as you nodded. "Yes."

"You haven't asked, but I happen to be just as in love with you if not more."

"I already knew that. How can I not when you show me every day? It's comforting to hear you say it out loud though." You smirked at him. "You know, when you don't think I'm asleep."

He stiffened against you. "You heard that?"

"God, it was so hard to keep my eyes closed and stop myself from reacting when you told me you're in love with me."

He clucked his tongue. "You waited this long to respond to me?"

"I told you I didn't wanna give it to you half-assed. I’m giving you my heart just as I want yours, and if you’re ready to entrust it wholly to me, I can’t just reciprocate with pieces of mine."

“You had it since the first day we met. I didn’t have to see everything else to know you’re the one who owns it.” Sukuna kissed you on the forehead, hugging you to him and just standing there with you, watching cars pass by the road, reveling in his proximity and his warmth. You didn’t need much of anything if you had him.

But then you broke out of his hold, realizing the mess you’ve made.

"What is it?"

"I have to apologize to our hosts. Stay here," you stated, walking back to the house to find the couple in the living room, standing there as if they were expecting you to come back. Without hesitation, you bowed before them. "I sincerely apologize for what I said. I should not have said that to you, Mirai. And it isn't my intention to indirectly hurt you, too, Toji. I'm sorry."

"What is this girl saying?" you heard Mirai say as she approached you and hugged you tight. "You silly girl. We deserve that and we don't deserve Sukuna. Everyone just gave us a free pass, and we were glad you were brave enough to say it to us like that. You have nothing to apologize for."

"Still..."

Toji shook his head. "No, Y/N. Thank you. For loving Sukuna and for giving us the chance to finally forgive ourselves, too."

At that, you smiled, nodding in understanding.

When it was time to leave, Megumi woke up and you had the chance to say goodbye to him, too, holding onto him until you had to get out the door.

"Visit us anytime, Y/N," Mirai said, winking. "Sukuna doesn't have to be with you."

"So, you're throwing me away cause you have Y/N now? Some friends you are," he sniped, causing another round of easy laughter.

"I'll come by soon," you promised, pecking Megumi on the cheek. "See you, angel."

***

"So, you're officially together now?" Suguru asked, helping you pack for the trip to the mountains Sukuna had planned, scheduled immediately after his return.

"Two weeks ago, but he had to go to London," you said, and in the next second, Ieiri and Satoru both brought out their wallets, handing bills to Suguru.

"I knew there was something different when he drove you home that afternoon."

"I can't believe you three are betting over my relationship with Sukuna," you muttered, zipping up your small luggage.

Suguru won fair and square though. He had been right to ask from the start when he walked in on you and Sukuna making out on the porch when the latter dropped you off. The drive then was quiet but you had the shut the guy up for teasing you about that "one hell of a confession," as he had put it. But he immediately took control, shoving you against the wall beside the door and kissing you stupid.

"What did I say about raising her on my own?" Suguru gloated, slinging an arm over your shoulder much to the annoyance of your supposed two other parents.

Satoru scoffed. "I was the one who did the hardest job of interrogating him the first time he came and brought our little girl dead drunk!"

"Yeah, he said you're intimidating," you told him, chuckling, and he positively glowed until you said, "But he said you apologized afterwards so..."

Suguru and Ieiri laughed hard at him.

"On a more serious note, Sukuna isn't gonna be as lucky the moment you get hurt, Y/N," Satoru stated calmly and the other two nodded in agreement. "Just putting it out there."

You would do the same for them, too, so you also agreed. "And if I'm the one causing him shit?"

"That's on him, too," Suguru said, ruffling your hair. "You're our princess, Y/N. It doesn't matter who's right or wrong when the time comes. You'll probably get an earful from us, too, cause we like the guy, but you will always have us first."

You clucked you tongue. "You're all being dramatic, but thanks. Much appreciated."

"It's the first time you're going steady with anyone. We're just making sure we've covered all the bases," Ieiri stated.

"Yeah, and before we forget..." Satoru took something out from under your bed, handing it to you.

You eagerly looked into the bag, thinking it was a present but you wanted to throw it at his face the moment you found out what it was.

"I got the bigger sizes cause Sukuna looks loaded in that department. Special edition, ultra-thin in – wait for it – mixed berry flavor." He winked. "Wrap it before you tap it."

"Ha ha, Satoru. You're really funny." You motioned to hit him, but laughed with him nonetheless as you rummaged through the bag. "Where the hell did you even get these?"

"Ordered them in from Amsterdam. You're welcome, princess."

"You're fucking weird for handing me rubbers, but thanks, dad." You handed the bag back to him. "You're giving them to Sukuna yourself though."

"Fine!"

And that he did when Sukuna arrived to come pick you up, strictly telling the man to open it in private much to the latter's confusion. Still, he accepted graciously.

"Don't open that thing," you said the moment you were in his car.

"That makes me want to open it now," he said.

You clucked you tongue, and shook your head. "Do that when I'm not looking." You tilted your head to have a better look at him, reaching over to make him face you. You frowned at the dark circles under his eyes. "What have you been doing in London?"

"Not sleeping enough is one of them, and I'm jetlagged." He took your hand in his and started planting butterfly kisses on your fingers. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." You cupped the side of his face and leaned over, pecking him on the lips. "You're going to sleep the moment we get to our destination."

"But –"

"No buts." You took the key off the ignition. "And I'm driving." You got out of the car, rounding it to the driver's side, opening the door. "Scoot."

Sukuna grinned at you. "Is being bossed around what it entails to be your boyfriend, sweetheart?" he asked, swinging his legs towards the door.

You moved closer, standing between his legs. "And if I say yes? Do you want out?" you asked, flashing him a sultry smile as you drew closer to him, your breaths mingling.

"I can't say I don't like it." He kissed you, deeper than the peck you gave him earlier.

"It's safer if I drive," you spoke against his lips. "Move."

"Just this once," he acceded, moving towards the passenger side while you climbed behind the wheel, gunning the car out of the property. But opposite to his words, he was asleep not an hour into the drive.

You never really realized how long two weeks could be until you had to wait for Sukuna to come back safe and sound. Though your time had been occupied by your studies and every other thing you did, you were always distracted by your phone, waiting for his messages and calls that you had to find yet another distraction in the form of a new video game you've gotten over the mail just two days after he left. But that was just momentary as you finished it in three days of continual gaming. You even went to visit the Fushiguros the weekend prior much to Mirai's delight just to have a semblance of familiarity where Sukuna was involved but it just made you miss him more.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, indeed. You could just laugh at yourself over the past days, thinking yourself selfish at the thought of not wanting him to go anywhere you couldn't easily reach him. But now that he was back, you are back to normal, and you knew you have to come to terms with accepting that it is a part of his job to be away from you every now and then if things are going to work out for the two of you.

You're whipped, and you know it. You've accepted that. Now, it's just a matter of not allowing yourself to become too dependent on his presence.

Sukuna woke up when you stopped for gas three hours later. Why he had to choose such a far off place to bring you to was beyond you, but you weren't complaining in that you'd go wherever he was, but it was more for the fact that he came straight out of the airport and yet he was traveling again and by car, too.

"You okay?" he asked while you munched on gummy bears, standing against the Jeep as you filled it with gas. "We can switch."

"I go on farther road trips with the boys and Ieiri every time we have the chance. Stop worrying about me."

He whined sleepily, his voice coming out thick, trapping you against the car with his body. "You're crabby today. It doesn't feel like you miss me."

"Oi, I had to order a new game just so I won't send stupid texts telling you to come back home. How dare you doubt that?"

He burst out laughing. "So you were nerding out while I was away?"

"Pretty much. Don't run away when one day, you walk into my room and find a monster holding onto my controller in the middle of pizza boxes and a whole lot of other mess. That's me needing to be brought out of my hole."

"Hey, don't do that when I go away for business trips." He looked seriously worried now. "You should do your normal routine."

"So don't say I didn't miss you because I was nearly that monster nerd I was telling you about." You popped a green gummy bear into his mouth. "And I'm still driving."

The drive continued for another two hours with you reaching the foot of the mountain at the side of the highway where you really had to switch with Sukuna since you didn't know the way.

"You didn't bring me here to murder me, did you?" you quipped, seeing how thick the forest was on the one-lane road going up the mountain. It was such green world that you almost wanted the feeling of being lost

"Probably. You're too bossy today."

"Hey, that's me being nice."

"I won't. I have other things in mind to do with you." He grinned mischievously at you, winking to which you just shook your head.

Soon enough, you reached a small, traditional village which was pretty much turned into a hot spring resort. Sukuna stopped at the largest building in the vicinity, telling you to wait in the car as he disembarked, returning very shortly later with a key dangling on his thumb. The drive continued for another twenty minutes until he parked in front of this old-style house which didn't look old at all, located at a much more secluded area of the resort. He handed you the key, telling you to go ahead while he unloads your stuff.

Yup. There was nothing old about the facilities at all with the south-facing side made entirely of glass that looked over the private hot spring and a view of the mountains beyond that. The kitchen was as modern as it could get, and judging by how Sukuna was carrying bag after bag of things into the fridge, he planned to cook during your entire stay there. You took over the job while he carried your luggage into the house. Poor thing did the shopping before coming to pick you up without telling you.

"Go shower and sleep. I can handle it from here," you told him when he entered the kitchen again, muscular arms crossed over his wide chest, eyeing you appreciatively.

Instead of doing as he was told, he came up to you, standing behind you, hands fastening onto your waist as he drew your hair to one side. He nuzzled your neck, slowly making his way up your jawline where he pressed his lips and lingered there for a bit. You smiled, reaching up with your hand to place it on his cheek.

"You need to rest, my love."

"Say that again," he whispered.

"You need to rest?" You teased, feeling him nip at your ear. "My love?"

"You keep annoying me today."

"You keep commenting about how I'm behaving today," you countered, facing him. "Come on, let me boss you around for now. You really need to get some shuteye."

"You'll let me boss you around later then?"

"Deal."

***

"Back already?"

You looked over your shoulder as you combed through your hair when you heard the sliding door open. A smile graced your lips seeing as how Sukuna looked better, more well-rested and more like himself after a long sleep, only coming to at nightfall. He took a dip in the hot spring after dinner and was returning from it.

He came in wearing that dark blue yukata provided by the resort, feeling your face grow hot when you realized you were ogling him yet again. How can you not when the garment hung loosely over his shoulder. He didn't bother tying it properly, and from the partition of the robe, you can see the broad expanse of his chest, the smattering of inked patterns following the sinews of his form.

It wasn't the first time you were seeing his tattoos, the artistic floral and tribal patterns making themselves known to you that day you woke up to him naked from the waist up. However, you did not realize they expanded all the way down the right side of his body, all the way down to the outer area of his thighs. Since he was just wearing a pair of boxers underneath the yukata, when he stepped forward, you were able to see it, and as curiosity won over you, you didn't look away even when he raised a brow at you, the ghost of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth.

You stood up, walking slowly towards him, stopping when you were less than a foot away. Your eyes shifted hesitantly between his face and that area of his anatomy silently asking for his permission to see more of it but your hands refused to move midway.

"What is it?" he asked, not exactly sure as to what you were trying to do.

Biting your lower lip. "M-may I..." You couldn't say it out loud so you pointed at his tattoos, feeling a lump forming on your throat when you realized how bold you were being.

"You don't have to ask," Sukuna whispered, taking your hand and placing it on his chest, warm and alive underneath your palm, while he drew his robe apart, eyes intent on you as you followed the expanse of skin that served as a canvass to the artfully-made representation of the four seasons in a single branch of a cherry blossom tree, meandering downwards. From his chest going down the length of his side, your hand traced over the colored patterns of smaller branches that progressed from summer to winter. Your fingers lingered over his iliac crest where new buds of the familiar pink blossoms that promised spring were immortalized on his skin.

Sukuna's breathing had deepened the moment your hand reached lower, and you relished the fact that you had that effect on him, too. You could feel heat behind your eyes as your blood rushed up to your head at the realization that you could do that to him, and even greater than that, the reality of just how much you wanted this man in front of you, how much you wanted to make him yours in every sense of the word and how much you wanted to be his and his alone.

In the dim light of the moon that was filtered by the mist rising from the springs through the open sliding doors, you looked up at Sukuna, the man you love with every single fiber of your being, leaning your head on his chest, listening to his beating heart that mirrored the thrumming in your chest.

You brushed your lips onto his bare skin, trailing kisses across his chest before looking up at him and letting yourself be devoured by those deep, hooded eyes as you stepped even closer.

"You're beautiful," you breathed out, pulling him down towards you, tears pooling in your eyes when he finally kissed you, taking your breath away.

Sukuna's large hands roamed your body as he continued to mold your mouth against his, his tongue pushing between your lips which you welcomed with your own, loving his taste, hot and wet and stirring you alive. His hands were warm and nimble as he kneaded the flesh of your hip through the fabric of your kimono, traveling lower to where the garment parted so he can slide his hand underneath. They made their way to your ass, squeezing hard before he slid lower, hooking both of his hands under your thighs. He lifted you up, urgently maneuvering your legs to wrap around his waist.

Neither of you came up for air even as he walked deeper into the room where the bed was, pawing and hungrily devouring each other, what began as a gentle kiss turning into a scorching show of dominance as you both took from each other, not quite getting enough.

"I love you," he rasped, breathless as he nipped at the shell of your ear. "I want all of you."

He then continued kissing you, seizing you at the back of your neck, roughly nibbling on your lips then progressing towards the columns of your throat, spreading the V that formed the collar of your robe. You ran your fingers through his hair, intoxicated by his scent, your toes curling as his hands travelled to outline the sides of your body possessively.

Sukuna then returned to your lips after leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your chest and collar bones, and you kissed him back just as fervently as he pressed you down against his clothed crotch, making you shiver as you felt stirrings at the pit of your stomach. You gasped at the feeling of him poking against your thigh but before you could recover, he entered his hot tongue into your mouth again, gently luring yours to mingle with his. You just let him have his way, not quite believing what was happening as you felt your skin bursting into flames wherever he touched you.

Sukuna lifted you slightly off the bed, putting you down so that you were facing away from him. From behind, he guided you towards the pillows and snaked his hands around your waist, reaching for the sash of your robe and tugging on it. When he was successful, he tossed it somewhere on the floor and reached over your shoulders, slowly feeling for the lapels of the robe, making sure his fingers brushed against your skin, sending jolts of electricity all over your body as he peeled the garment off you in deliberate and calculated slowness, coupled with his mouth following the train down your nape to your shoulders before he pushed you face down on the bed.

"Oh god," you whispered, fighting for air as he gathered your hair to your left shoulder and licked the shell of your ear. "What are you thinking about? You're too stiff. Relax," he said in that deep, sensual voice that turned your legs to jelly.

You grabbed onto the pillow, anticipating what he was gonna do next when you felt his febrile tongue making a trail on your right shoulder, the action morphing into sloppy, wet kisses going down your bare back until you could not feel your robe anywhere near your body anymore. He has already undressed you.

You were on edge and just hyper aware of everything he was doing and every single touch he left on your body made you feel like it was leaving a mark and being absorbed by every cell in your system. It felt good being this close to him, being touched by him and you wouldn’t really mind if he marked you everywhere. You wanted to be his and you wanted the world to know.

His hands travelled everywhere it could touch, pushing you to the edge and making you feel like you were burning slowly, the kind that made every corner of your body tingle with anticipation. What you didn't realize was how tight you were holding the pillow to yourself until he suddenly mentioned it.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?" Your voice came out at a higher pitch, making you want to smack yourself. This was that you wanted and yet you were being all jittery.

He chuckled softly, stopping his ministrations. "What are you doing?"

At that, you pushed yourself off the bed a bit and turned your head sideways to meet his gaze from over your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m just…”

“Yes?”

“Overwhelmed,” you whispered, chuckling slightly. While it wasn’t your first time, everything felt new with the added sensations that your deep emotions for him were throwing into the mix. “How do you want me?”

He turned you over on your back, chuckling. "For starters, cut out the pillow hugging." He pried the thing off your arms and chucked it against the headboard. Sukuna then hovered over you, pinning your hands on either side of your head then began his assault on your neck going lower and lower until he reached your left breast and started licking and tugging on your nipple, his other hand busy kneading the other.

“You are beautiful,” he said, mouth moving against the swell of your flesh while his other hand took possession of the other hand, tentatively squeezing with his long fingers.

You let out a moan, craving for more but not certain whether you could take it or not with your heart feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest. You wanted him to touch you more and as if he read your mind, he returned to kissing you intensely until you thought you couldn't breathe, well aware of how his other hand was taking off your panties. Your heart was beating erratically in your chest as you anticipated the moment, but halfway down your thighs, he raised himself a bit and laid himself on top of you, burying his face into your hair.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked cautiously as he raised himself slightly, looking into the depths of your eyes as if he was looking right through you.

Cupping his face, you rose slightly on your elbows, pressing your lips at the corner of his mouth. "A hundred times yes. I'm yours," you said with all the conviction you could muster in your hazy state – love drunk, kiss drunk, Sukuna drunk.

At your response, he latched his lips onto the skin of your neck, kissing lower and lower, passing over your breasts where he lingered, biting and sucking gently. You hissed as you watched him progress downward, his mouth doing all the magic from the valley of your chest down to your stomach, his hand reaching for the garment he had taken off you halfway down your legs, discarding it. The rough pads of his hands brushed over your thighs, pushing them apart as he lowered himself between them.

You let out a sharp cry when he licked a long stripe on your nether lips, his hot tongue swirling over your sensitive nub. He hummed in approval upon tasting you while he teased your folds with two of his digits. Without a warning he simultaneously pushed his fingers into you and sucked on your clit, building a rhythm that had you seeing stars with every thrust, coaxing out whimpers from your slightly parted lips. Your hips bucked towards him when you felt him reaching deep enough to touch your sweet spot again and again.

Sukuna anchored his arms around your thighs, his elbows on the mattress as he held you steady, continuing to lap at you and move his digits inside you as you felt that familiar sensation of coming undone, guiding you through it until you released so hard your juices squirted out despite his fingers still inserted in you, making a right mess of his mouth, chin and hand.

You spasmed against him but he didn't let go, continuing with his ministrations. He removed his fingers from inside you and started eating you out like a starved man, catching all of your essence from your initial orgasm and cajoling you into another one as he shoved his tongue right into you.

Your hand reached down, fingers tangling with his cherry blossom locks, not knowing whether you want to push him or keep him right where he was. He moaned as he felt your walls clenching, the vibrations caused by his voice stimulating you further, and in no time, you were releasing into his mouth again, your high hitting you like a speeding truck, slamming onto you and leaving you a shaking mess.

Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to calm down, chuckling in between each intake of breath when you felt Sukuna planting ephemeral kisses on your feverish skin, working his way up this time, worshipping your body before catching your lips in his where you tasted yourself on him.

"Can I eat you forever?" he asked with a groan. "You taste exquisite, my love."

"Alright," you panted, "But before that..." You looked him in the eye, running your hand down his chiseled abs until you reached the band of his boxers, excitement filling you as you palmed his crotch over the fabric. You snickered when his whole body seized on top of you, but you were just as out of breath feeling how massive and warm he was against your palm. You bit your lip as your hand moved, rubbing him slowly. Sukuna's eyes drooped a little as he drank in the clouded look in your eyes.

Satoru wasn't wrong about the condoms, and it further got proven to you when you pushed Sukuna’s underwear down and he rose up to his knees, finishing the job. You swore your eyes were going to pop out of their sockets when his length was released from its restraints, slapping against his stomach, thick, long and standing proud, its pink tip leaking precum that dripped down, following a prominent vein on its underside. You never wanted to put anything in your mouth as much as you wanted his dick, but the idea of it stretching you and ripping you apart from between your legs was more intriguing.

Sukuna smirked down at you. "Like what you see, sweetheart?"

"That's an understatement." You swallowed hard, taking you herculean effort to look at his face instead. "I don't just wanna look at it though."

He reached over to the nightstand, taking out that familiar bag from Satoru, quickly rummaging through it. "I'd be insulted if that's all you wanna do." He said as he took out a packet, about to rip it but you shook your head, taking it away from him.

He arched a brow at you. "You don't...Are you –"

"Stop asking me if I'm sure. I'm certain as I'll ever be." You smiled at him. "Or maybe I'll change my mind if you keep asking."

Laughing, he bent down, positioning himself between your legs as he took possession of your lips once more. You took a deep breath when you felt his tip nudging between your folds, teasing you while he busied himself with tracing the topography of your body as if committing it to memory.

Watching him now, you wished you've met him earlier in your life, loved him longer than you have at present. If you knew someone like Sukuna would come to care for you as much as he does, even in acts that are mostly governed by sheer instinct and senses, driven by need and lust, you would have combed the earth to find him. He cares so damn much for you that you knew he will find it in him to stop if you just said so even at his own expense.

"Sukuna..." his name spilled from your mouth, wanting him all for yourself, body, heart and soul. "Baby, please..." You were pleading, but for what, you didn't know exactly.

"Yes, my love?" he questioned, a smug grin playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched the mess that you are beneath him. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you whimpered, raising your hip to meet his cock, hard and burning on your skin. "I want you," you breathed out, the delicious torture in your voice coming to a crescendo when he thrust in agonizingly slow, making your wish his command.

He stretched you, gradually, gently as if he was afraid to break you, but your breath hitched for a different reason entirely. His girth left a slight burn as he pushed in, the rapturous feel of him invading your space and being wrapped in your flesh making a heated mess out of you as you grabbed everything you can get a grip on – the sheets, his shoulders, the pillow nearest to you – trying to anchor yourself from the sudden high of knowing he was inside you.

Your eyes watered at the sheer thought of being connected to him so deeply, and you found yourself falling to blissful surrender when he finally bottomed out. You felt him twitch inside you, but instead of moving as he wished, he cupped your face, delicately brushing his fingers over your flushed cheeks. He had that look of disquiet as he examined your expressions.

"You okay?"

You nodded, beaming in your state of stupor. "Please…move."

Sukuna begins to do as he was told, sliding in and out and acquainting you to his rhythm, his intense eyes hooded yet intense as he regarded you, aware of every nuance of your expressions with every single thrust. He started picking up the pace when he felt you wrap your legs around him, hitting you deeper every single time.

Pleasurable groans elicited from Sukuna's lips as he held himself up, driving his hips against yours repeatedly. "You're so tight," he rasped, his snagged breaths hot on your ears. "You feel so good."

"So good," you repeated, completely going out of it when the mere brushing of his rod against your walls drove you over the edge. You clenched tight around him and he let out a groan, eyes rounding when he realized you were close.

"Let go, baby. Cum for me," he said between pants as he pounded onto you unrelentingly.

You spoke broken syllables of his name as you came around him, riding you through your high. Acid white flashes started to flash behind your eyelids, your back arching from the bed as you keened loudly, too enraptured and absorbed in the pleasure that he was giving you.

However, before you could even recover, Sukuna lifted you off the bed, holding you against him so that your breast were rubbing against his taut chest. You wrapped your arms around him, gripping onto his shoulders while you sat astride him on your knees.

"You'll give me one more, won't you, my love?" he said, thrusting up to you whilst he gripped your waist so tight you knew you will have bruises after, making you meet every single push of his thick length.

Both your moans filled the room along with skin hitting skin, the friction between you two kept at bay by the sheen of sweat that covered your bodies. He held onto the back of your neck, roughly kissing you, your tongues dancing the lovers' minuet. Your lungs begged for air, but you were reluctant to be released from Sukuna's wild kisses while he fucked you senseless.

"Fuck," he growled through gritted teeth. "I love you," he whispered repeatedly like a mantra.

You felt him getting harder inside you as he hastened his pace, ramming into you faster and stronger, and in no time, you were screaming out his name as you came undone again with him following shortly after you did, a deep groan falling out of his mouth in a dragged out note when he spilled his seed inside of you, making you feel even fuller, your walls throbbing around his softening length.

Spent, you both fell back on the welcoming softness of the mattress with him still inside you. He landed on top of you, catching his breath while he rested his head on the crook of your neck while you wrapped your arm around him, your fingers carding through his damp locks.

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” he purred in hushed tones once he caught your breath.

Your brows furrowed in perplexity. “I didn’t do anything.”

He shook his head, pulling out and rolling away, his eyes between your thighs, watching as your mixed juices dripped down on the sheets. “I’m not just talking about your body and how you felt. That in itself is amazing, but I’m referring to everything that you are.”

You felt heat creeping up your neck, all the way to your scalp. Abashed, you covered your face with your hands. “Don’t say things like that. You’re making me a shy mess. Geez.”

“Hey, look at me.” He clucked his tongue when you didn’t move, taking your hands off of your face. When you finally did as you were told, he said, “I mean it. Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re real.”

“I should be saying that. You’re so kind to me, and I feel how much you care for me every single time you say or do something. And I’m just selfish, really.”

“No, you’re not?”

“I am, Sukuna. I want you all to myself from that time you first kissed me, but I didn’t really do much to make that happen because I’m also a wimp, so thank you for going the extra mile for me.” You smiled slightly, feeling your eyes fill with tears.

“Stop saying that.”

“But it’s true. You’re always the one putting in the effort.”

“Because I want to.” He suddenly sat up, pulling you by the arm to lift you up when you gasped, feeling a sudden jolt of pain at the base of your back and the joints on your thighs at your sudden movement. “What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed.

You raised a finger, moving on the mattress on your own while you held onto his arm for support. “Give me a moment.”

Sukuna regarded you with wide eyes. “Did I hurt you?” He sat beside you, wrapping arm around your shoulder and soothingly rubbing your arm. “Are you aching anywhere?”

“A bit, but it’s the good kind.” You smirked at him. “You’re amazing,” you said, imitating his tone earlier when he said you’re beautiful, your eyes traveling to his crotch. “You wrecked me, my love.”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or be upset. “You say the most outrageous things and it doesn’t help that you don’t hold back either.”

“Too shocking?” you offered.

“Scandalous!” he quipped, chuckling and you joined in on the laughter, the merry sound breaking through the stillness. “Can I carry you now?”

“Sure.” You lifted your arms, latching onto his neck, letting him take you to the bathroom.

“Let’s wash up and take a dip.”

You nodded and let him have his way around you, standing on the shower stall with him as he did everything while you just held onto him, your legs still wobbly. He kissed you on the cheek, the action soft and delicate, filling you with happiness. You can’t believe he is real.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he spoke against your skin.

You pulled away from him, placing your hand on either side of his face, and with a triumphant smile, you said, “I’m not. Never will be.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more. Don’t argue.” You pecked him on the lips.

Sukuna beamed at you toothily. “Alright, sweetheart.”

He carried you out of the bath and out of the sliding doors that led to the hot spring, setting you down into the water carefully as if you’d break if he didn’t take caution. The hot water felt glorious on your skin, immediately melting the knots of your muscles as you sat between his legs, both of you submerged chest-deep.

“Damn, that feels good,” you sighed, mollified as you leaned against Sukuna’s broad chest, closing your eyes in bliss. “I can stay here forever.”

“Are you talking about the hot spring?”

“Yes and no,” you said without hesitation. “The water feels nice, but it wouldn’t be complete without you holding me.”

“You’re being sweet now after bossing me around earlier?” He wrapped his arms around you, placing his chin on your shoulder. “We can always come here when we both have free time. And I’ll always hold you like this.”

“I like that.”

“I love you,” he mumbled, nuzzling on the spot below your ear and breathing in deeply. “You smell divine.”

“I know. I smell like you.”

“Thank heavens then cause that’s what seemed to lure you to me,” he kidded.

You just smiled, reaching blindly to place your palm on his cheek, trying to get a semblance of reality although it was already staring you in the face, the emotions and sensations he has making you feel very much real, but you seem to be in a dream state, unable to come to terms with the fact that spring has finally come for you in the person of the man whose arms held you tight and close to his heart.

“Sukuna…”

“Yes, my love?”

“Thanks for existing."

-THE END-

So, I made Megumi's mom's name here "Miriai." I made her an OC because I can't just keep referring to her as "she/her." It's quite confusing. I hope this doesn't bother anyone. I cringed, too, trust me.

Okay, Toji is also OOC here. Haha! I went all the way with conjuring these characteristics and since Sukuna, my love, is super soft here (he has cherry blossom tats XD), why not Toji, too?

Anyway, I would like to say thank you to everyone who read this fic! Stay tuned for more. Love you guys :)

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

172 notes · View notes

jadethest0ne · 2 years

Note

I gotta ask since you’ve a Nuzlocke comic; how do you decide which Pokémon become main characters and which others are boxed or ‘fainted’? I’m already attached to the Pokémon I’ve chosen for the comic and the story isn’t even written out yet 😅😆

Cause I understand the main rule being six Pokémon at a time (Eevee/Eevelution being an acceptation for seventh), but it’s still a little hard to figure out. 🤔

I'm not sure what you mean about the "six Pokemon at a time" rule. Though maybe you mean just in terms of good character balance in the comic? Either way I figure I should clarify both, just in case.

Nuzlocke Challenges

So the main 3 rules in a nuzlocke are:

Nickname all Pokemon (to establish greater "bonds" with them)

If a Pokemon faints, it is "dead" and must be released or perma-boxed

Only catch the first Pokemon you see on each new route (though there are many exceptions to this rule, at the player's discretion)

These are rules for the gameplay, specifically. It is a self-imposed challenge for making the Pokemon games more difficult. Anything beyond that, like limiting the number of Pokemon allowed on a team, the types, usage of items, etc. can be added on, but again, that is up to you, the player, to decide and isn't a must. I've seen some folks choosing specific Pokemon to nuzlocke with, and limited themselves to those Pokemon only, and played based on that, and that's fine, too! Whatever you want, basically.

If you want more info on the Nuzlocke Challenge and its rules/origins, I'd check out the Nuzlocke Challenge page on Bulbapedia.

The Comics

As I stated in a previous ask, "Liberty" was based on an actual playthrough of a Nuzlocke Challenge I did, and all Nuzlocke comics are. So I didn't "choose" which Pokemon became main parts of the cast, nor could I "choose" who fainted, because that was determined purely by how I played the game. Any Pokemon character that appears in the comic was one that I captured and was on my team while I played my game. Any Pokemon that "died" literally fainted in the game and I had to box them as per the rules. I played the game, took notes as I did so, and then created the comic.

I should note that some people actually create their comics as they play the game. For instance, one might play up until the first gym, and then create their comic based on those events. Then play the next chunk of game and so on.

It is likely that you will capture more Pokemon than you will use. For the gameplay, I went with the Pokemon I needed for the team in order to successfully complete the challenge. I ended up capturing more Pokemon than I show in the comic. I just never used them enough in the gameplay for me to merit making a character out of them. Some folks mention the capture in theirs, or do a short comic of it, and that's fine. In my case, I thought it made more sense to just use Pokemon I thought worked for the story. Some Pokemon that I never used in-game, became background characters wherever I needed them for the story.

Here are some examples of what game Pokemon I created characters for and why:

Liberty the Totodile is the starter Pokemon, thus she was my choice of main character.

Lorde the Hoothoot or Rhonda the Machop, and any other main team member Pokemon became main characters because they participated in major battles and stuck around on the team long-term.

Stanley the Rattata became a character, mostly because I needed someone to give world-building info, even though he didn't actually participate much in battles in-game. Also, I just really like Rattata and wanted a Rattata character, even if he was only around for a bit, haha.

Moon the Oddish was a Pokemon I caught in Ilex Forest, but never used, but I needed some conflict for the Ilex Forest chapter, and he fit the bill.

Wade the Quagsire and Bonsai the Sudowoodo were also caught Pokemon that I never used, so I gave them to the character, Jade for part of her team in the comic.

So, as you can see there are many ways to play a nuzlocke, and many ways to create characters for a nuzlocke comic. I hope that answers your questions!

#pokemon #liberty #nuzlocke #nuzlocke challenge #ask #jadethest0ne

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coldgoldlazarus · 3 years

Text

Impromptu Discussion Of RWBY'S Themes

(This was supposed to be way smaller and less rambly, but I kinda went crazy instead so now this is a whole thing.) If you haven't seen Volume 8 yet for some reason, spoilers under the cut:

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While I have lots of issues with Unicorn Of War, I do have to admit one interesting thing he pointed out was how each Volume of RWBY seems to have it's own central theme or thesis.

Volume 1: Innocence

Volume 2: Maturity

Volume 3: Trauma

Volume 4: Recovery

Volume 5: Choice

Volume 6: Responsibility

Furthermore, I don't remember if he explicitly pointed this out himself, but I find it interesting that with the first six, they can be grouped up into three sets of pairs based around contrasting themes. Volume 1's light-heartedness in introducing the cast plays off of Volume 2 drawing clear attention to the team still being kids despite their increasingly perilous lifestyle. Volume 3 puts the characters (and the audience, honestly) through a sudden and intense horrific experience, leading into Volume 4 addressing the aftermath and the need to heal and press on. While Volume 5 has RNJR somewhat limited, the plots with Raven and Blake and Illia (and even Lionheart to a lesser extent) highlight the idea of choice, while Volume 6 answers that with the importance of the responsibility that affects those choices.

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Unicorn Of War didn't really touch on this for the most recent two volumes, but they carry this idea forward in a rather interesting way, with each Volume doubling up on both a theme and it's counterpoint, examining both in equal measure and being more (thematically) self-contained as a result, even as the plot more directly flows from one to the next.

Volume 7: Trust vs. Fear

Volume 8: Agency vs. Circumstances/Consequences

Volume 7 isn't afraid to wear its thesis on its sleeve, to the point that it's literally spelled out by the opening and the finale credits songs, so I don't feel the need to elaborate on that any further, but Volume 8 is a bit more tricky to sort out since there's just so much going on all at once.

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Still, I think that with Penny and Cinder and their decisions and level of autonomy taking center stage, the horrific reveal of the Hound's nature, everyone struggling under the weight of an unprecedented and cataclysmic event, and the "flip-o-lympics" of defections happening left, right, and center, I do think it's safe to say that Volume 8 is primarily about the complicated interplay between personal agency and the limitations imposed by ones' circumstances; where one ends and the other begins.

In a way, it's almost a repeat of the Volume 5/Volume 6 duology, but it takes the idea further and increasingly puts strain on 6's hopeful conclusion that "the effort has to be made regardless of the risk," with RWBY and company forced to confront a worst-case scenario where the consequences of failure extend well past just themselves in a very immediate and painfully visceral way. No plan survives first contact with the enemy, and here it's their very ideology, their very agency and ability to make a meaningful difference, that becomes threatened and worn down.

Enough essays have been written about Penny and her struggling to retain her own agency against her enemy's suppression, her friend's well-intentioned meddling, and her own self-sacrificial habits, that I don't have much to add there. (Maybe once V9 and beyond show us how this plotline is handled going forward, I might get into some thoughts on her identity and the humanization via the staff, but while I'm cautiously optimistic I'd still prefer to hedge my bets for now.)

But similarly, Cinder's storyline shows us her attempts to reclaim her agency after falling so low, even as she remains trapped by the circumstances of her upbringing and Salem's influence that she's still in denial about and how that impacts her decisions. (And again, paralleling and continuing Volume 5's earlier, rougher explorations of choice and morality and the complicated squiggly line between external factors and personal accountability.) Hell, this is even explored a bit in Salem, when Yang calls her out on her bullshit in Witch.

Ultimately RWBY do find a way to circumvent a genocide and focus on the most important things to save, but even then it's imperfect and hasty and they still take losses that can't be undone, (though I swear to god if RT really did kill off FNKI I will be deeply upset and need to have words with them) as well as (hopefully more temporarily) paying in Penny's blood. It's the consequences of their circumstances, the lack of better options and better time to plan, all the variables they weren't even able to take into account. It's still a victory in that the majority of the citizens were saved, but with the loss of a Kingdom, (even though Atlas was deeply corrupt and frankly needed to go, that's one less safe place in the world) the loss of friends, the loss of both of the currently in-play relics, and even (for now) the loss of Team RWBY themselves. It was a combination of luck and cleverness that let them manage as well as they did, but it was still a draw at best.

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But even so, while the doom and gloom and the heart-shattering consequences was the point, there is a point. The misery isn't glorified for shock value like on some shows, (looking at you, Game Of Thrones) it's still a learning experience. Despite all the losses, they still managed to evacuate the citizenry. Even amidst everything going catastrophically wrong and Penny's agency being so smothered that she only got to choose the means of her death and who would recieve her powers as a result, there is still hope, because despite everything RWBY are still out there, and despite holding all the cards at the beginning, Salem's come out of this with just the relics, Cinder, two lieutenants in Vacuo, and not much else.

RWBY have now been through true war, and seen the consequences of their actions (whether good or bad) and the oppressive weight of the circumstances they must navigate within, and they're still out there. And while each Volume has its central focus or theme(s), there is also a lot of overlap and echo. ("It's like a poem, it rhymes.") Volume 3 explores the fragility of trust just as much as Volume 7, and 8 mirrors 2 in confronting RWBY with the darker side of the world around them and their place within a bigger picture. Cinder's story in 8 is a more refined examination of Raven's in 5, and several other characters face the same choice as Illia's. Even Volume 5's Menagerie plot answers ideas set up by Volume 1's finale. Point is, these themes aren't restricted to just one Volume, and I think it's safe to assume Volume 9 will most likely continue (to some degree) Volume 4's ideas on coping with loss and recovering from trauma, and learning from what went wrong without letting it define you. The strangely cheery tone of Friend, and the ending credits scene (starting on Ruby's damaged Crescent Rose but then moving past it to the horizon) are there to say that even after this, there is still a path to keep moving forward.

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In the end, I feel like while RWBY has always been better than many give it credit for, (despite still being undeniably flawed) this choice to double up on the contrasting themes within a single volume starting from 6 onward* has helped make its exploration of those themes more clear, along with the duality allowing for more complex interplay between the opposing ideas, and the return to and expansion of the central focuses of earlier seasons.

*(because while it does pair with Volume 5, "she knew there really was no choice at all"; it also is very obviously focused on the duality of responsibility and action vs. apathy and inaction, making it also somewhat self-contained)

And I for one, cannot wait to see what Volume 9 will bring to the table.

#not a reblog #rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby analysis #rwby volume 8 #I can't wait for v9 #but i will anyway #because I prefer they take their time #and more importantly take care of their team #than rush it to an arbitrary deadline #and make the product and the people making it suffer #so I'm more than cool with the 2022 delay #just wanted to get that out there too #but I am very excited regardless #also nervous #because it's rwby #and pain is sure to be in plentiful supply #but still

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brawltogethernow · 4 years

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So, I don't think I've ever asked you this... what IS the whole point of the Spider-Sense? It really seems like something that only exists for writers to ignore or work around when they want to inject Legit Tension into a story.

I’ve thought about this power so much, but never with an eye to defend its right to exist, so I needed to think about this. The results could be more concise.

Ironically, given the question, I have to say its main purpose is to ramp up tension. But it’s also a highly variable multitool that a skilled creative team can use for...pretty much anything. It does everything the writer wants it to, while for its wielder always falls just short of doing enough.

I went looking through my photos for a really generic, classic-looking example to use as an image to head this topic, but then I ran into the time Peter absolutely did not reimburse this man for his stolen McDonald’s, so have that instead.

A Scare Chord, But You Can Draw It

That one post that says the spider-sense is just super-anxiety isn’t, like, wrong. It’s a very anxious, dramatic storytelling tool originally designed for a very anxious, dramatic protagonist. I find it speaks to the overall tone of the franchise that some characters are functionally psychics, but with a psychic ability that only points out problems.

Spidey sense pinging? There’s danger, be stressed! Broken? Now the lead won’t even KNOW when there’s a problem, scary! Single character is immune to it? That’s an invisible knife in the dark oh my god what the fuck what the fU--

Like its counterpart in garden variety anxiety, the only time the spider-sense reduces tension is in the middle of a crisis. But in the wish fulfillmenty way that you want in an adventure story to justify exaggerated action sequences, the same way enhanced strength or durability does. Also like those, it would theoretically make someone much safer to have it, but it exists in the story to let your character navigate into and weather more dangerous situations.

For its basic role in a story, a danger sense is a snappy way to rile up both the reader and the protagonist that doesn’t offer much information beyond that it’s time to sit smart because shit is about to go down.

Spidey comic canon is all over the board in quality and genre, and it started needing to subvert its formulas before the creators got a handle on what those formulas even were, and basically no one has read anything approaching most of it at this point, so for consistent examples of a really bare bones use of this power in storytelling, I’d point to the property that’s done the best job yet of boiling down the mechanics of Spider-Man to their absolute most basic essentials for adaptation to a compelling monster of the week TV series.

Or as you probably know it, Danny Phantom. DON’T BOO, I’M RIGHT.

DP is Spider-Man with about 2/3 of the serial numbers filed off and no death (ironically), and Danny’s ghost sense is the most proof in the formula example of what the spidey sense is for: It’s a big sign held up for the viewer that says, “Something is wrong! Pay attention!” Effectively a visual scare chord. It’s about That Drama. And it works, which won it a consistent place in the show’s formula. We’re talking several times an episode here.

So why does it work?

It’s a little counterintuitive, but it’s strong storytelling to tell your audience that something bad is going to happen before it does. A vague, punchy spoiler transforms the ignorant calm before a conflict into a tense moment of anticipation. ...And it makes sure people don’t fail to absorb the beginning of said conflict because they weren’t prepared to shift gears when the scene did. Shock is a valuable tool, too, but treating it like a staple is how you burn out your audience instead of keeping them engaged. Not to go after an easy target, but you need to know how to manage your audience’s alarm if you don’t want to end up like Game of Thrones.

The limits of the spider-sense also keep you on your toes when handled by a smart writer. It tells Peter (everyone’s is a little different, so I’m going to cite the og) about threats to his person, but it doesn’t elaborate with any details when it’s not already obvious why, what kind, and from what. And it doesn’t warn him about anything else-- Which is a pretty critical gap when you zoom out and look at his hero career’s successes and failures and conclude that it’s definitely why he’s lived as long as he has acting the way he does, but was useless as he failed to save a string of people he’d have much rather had live on than him.

(Any long-running superhero mythos has these incidents, but with Peter they’re important to the core themes.)

And since this power is by plot for plot (or because it’s roughly agreed it only really blares about threats that check at least two boxes of being major, immediate, or physical), it always kicks in enough to register when the danger is bearing down...when it’s too late to actually do anything about it if “anything” is a more complex action than “dodge”.

Really? Not until the elevator doors started to open?

That Distinctive, Crunchy Spider Flavor

The spider-sense and its little pen squiggles go hand in hand with wallcrawling (and its unique and instantly identifiable associated body language) to make the Spider-Person powerset enduringly iconic and elevate characters with it from being generic mid-level super-bricks. Visually, but also in how it shapes the story.

I said it can share a narrative role with super strength. But when you end a fight and go home, super strength continues to make your character feel powerful, probably safer than they’d be otherwise, maybe dangerous.

The spider-sense just keeps blaring, “Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong! God, why aren’t you doing something about this!?”

Pretty morose thing to live with, for a safety net! Kind of a double edged sword you have there! Could be constantly being hyperattuned to problems would prime you for a negative outlook on life. Kind of seems like a power that would make it impossible for a moral person to take a day off, leading them into a beleaguered and resentful yet dutiful attitude about the whole superhero gig! Might build up to some of the core traits of this mythos, maybe! Might lead to a lot of fifteen minute retirement stories, or something. Might even be a built in ‘great responsibility’ alarm that gets you a main character who as a rule is not going to stop fighting until he physically cannot fight anymore.

Certainly not apropos of anything, just throwing this short lived barely-a-joke tagline up for fun.

One of my personal favorite things about stories with superpowers is keeping in mind how they cause the people who have them to act in unusual ways outside of fights, so when you tell me that these people have an entire extra sense that tells them when the gas in their house is leaking through a barely useful hot/cold warning system that never turns off, I’m like, eyes emojis, popcorn out, notebook open, listening intently, spectacles on, the whole deal.

It also contributes to Peter Parker’s personality in a way I really enjoy: It allows him to act like an irrational maniac. When you know exactly when a situation becomes dangerous and how much, normal levels of caution go out the window and absolutely nothing you do makes sense from an exterior standpoint anymore. That’s the good shit. I would like to see more exploration of how the non-Parker characters experiencing the world in this incredibly altered way bounce in response.

It’s also one of many tools in this franchise hauling the reader into relating more closely with the main character. The backbone of classic Spidey is probably being in on secrets only Peter and the reader know which completely reframe how one views the situation on the page. It’s just a big irony mine for the whole first decade. A convenient way to inform the reader and the lead that something is bad news that’s not perceivable to any other characters is youth-with-a-big-exciting-secret catnip.

Another point for tension, there, in that being aware of danger is not synonymous with being able to act on it. If there’s no visible reason for you to be acting strange, well...you’re just going to have to sit tight and sweat, aren’t you? Some gratuitous head wiggles never hurt when setting up that type of conflict.

Have I mentioned that they look cool? Simultaneously punchy and distinctive, with a respectable amount of leeway for artists to get creative with and still coming up with something easily recognizable? And pretty easy to intuit the meaning of even without the long-winded explanations common in the days when people wrote comics with the intent that someone could come in cold on any random issue and follow along okay, I think, although the mechanic has been deeply ingrained in popular culture for so long that I can’t really say for sure.

It was also useful back in the day when no artists drew the eyes on the Spider-Man mask as emoting and were conveying the lead’s expressions entirely through body language and panel composition. If you wiggle enough squiggles, you don’t need eyebrows.

Take This Handwave and Never Ask Me a Logistical Question Again

This ability patches plot holes faster than people can pick them open AND it can act as an excuse to get any plot rolling you can think of if paired with one meddling protagonist who doesn’t know how to mind their own business. Buy it now for only $19.99 (in four installments; that’s four installments of $19.99).

Why can a teenager win a six on one fight against other superhumans? Well, the spider-sense is the ultimate edge in combat, duh.

Why can Peter websling? Why doesn’t everyone websling? Well, the spider-sense is keeping him from eating flagpole when he violently flings himself across New York in a way neither man nor spider was ever meant to move.

How are we supposed to get him involved with the plot this week???? Well, that crate FELT dangerous, so he’s going to investigate it. Oh, dip, it was full of guns and radioactive snakes! Probably shouldn’t have opened that!

Yeah, okay, but why isn’t it fixing everything, then? Isn’t it supposed to be why Peter has never accidentally unmasked in front of somebody? ('Nother entry for this section, take a shot.) That’s crazy sensitive! How does he still have any problems!? Is everything bad that’s ever happened to characters with this powerset bad writing!? --Listen, I think as people with uncanny senses that can tell us whether we are in danger with accuracy that varies from incredible to approximate (I am talking about the five senses that most people have), we should all know better than to underestimate our ability to tune them out or interpret them wrong and fuck ourselves up anyway. I honestly find this part completely realistic.

*SLAPS ROOF OF SPIDER-SENSE* YOU CAN FIT SO MANY STORIES IN THIS THING

The spider-sense is a clean branch into...whatever. There is the exact right balance of structure and wishy-washiness to build off of. A sample selection of whatevers that have been built:

It’s sci-fi and spy gadgets when Peter builds technology that can interface with it.

It’s quasi-mystical when Kaine and Annie-May get stronger versions of it that give them literal psychic visions, or when you want to get mythological and start talking about all the spider-characters being part of a grand web of fate.

Kaine loses his and it becomes symbolic of a future newly unbound by constraints, entangled thematically with the improved physical health he picked up at the same time -- a loss presented as a gain.

Peter loses his and almost dies 782 times in one afternoon because that didn’t make the people he provoked when he had it stop trying to kill him, and also because he isn’t about to start “””taking the subway’’””’ “‘’“”to work”””’’” like some kind of loser who doesn’t get a heads up when he’s about to hit a pigeon at 50mph.

Peter’s starts tuning into his wife’s anxiety and it’s a tool in a relationship study.

It starts pinging whenever Peter’s near his boss who’s secretly been replaced by a shapeshifter and he IGNORES IT because his boss is enough of an asshole that that doesn’t strike him as weird; now it’s a comedy/irony tool.

Into the Spider-Verse made it this beautiful poetic thing connecting all the spider-heroes in the multiverse and stacked up a story on it about instant connection, loss, and incredibly unlikely strangers becoming a found family. It was also aesthetic as FUCK. Remember the scene where Miles just hears barely intelligible whispering that’s all lines people say later in the film and then his own voice very clearly says “look out” and then the room explodes?? Fuck!!!!

Venom becomes immune to it after hitchhiking to Earth in Peter’s bone juice and it makes him a unique threat while telling a more-homoerotic-than-I-assume-was-originally-intended story about violation and how close relationships can be dangerous when they go sour.

It doesn’t work on people you trust for maximum soap opera energy. Love the innate tragedy of this feature coming up.

IN CONCLUSION I don’t have much patience for writers who don’t take advantage of it, never mind feel they need to write around it.

#spiderman #peter parker #spiderverse #spidey #marvel #danny phantom #one day you'll see what i'm doing with it in the project i'm collabing on w/ my brother and then you'll all be sorry and hopefully impresse #mirrorfalls #asks answered #essays

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obeymebabes · 3 years

Text

A Surprise Adventure (Levi x MC)

A/N: Happy Birthday to the well known shy otaku snakey fish boy of Devildom! While he may not be my favorite, he is certainly a cutie. May his birthday be a pleasant one.

Warnings: None, just a happy otaku boy on an adventure.

Summary: Leviathan’s big day has arrived, and he has been transported into a "simulation". With the help of MC, he must gain a special item to gift to the evil prince who has taken his brothers captive! The adventure awaits!

“Levi? Helloooo? Wake up! Your adventure is awaiting!” You nudged the Avatar of Envy, trying to wake him from whatever dream he was having.

He stirred, groaning a bit, but after shaking him just a bit more, you could see his eyes flutter open.

Seeing your familiar figure standing over him in the comfort of his bed-tub he smiled a little, a blush forming rather rapidly on his cheeks. You watched as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Leviathan! Finally you are awake. It is urgent! You must hurry!” Tugging on his arm, you ripped him from the comfort of his warm blanket and Ruri body pillow, earning a soft yell from him as he stumbled to follow you.

“MC? What is going on? What happened? Is everything okay?” Panic quickly waved over him. He had no idea what was happening. Perfect. It seems your plan is working so far.

“Admiral you must see this! It is your brothers! It appears that your brothers have been taken captive by the evil Lord of Devildom, and he is challenging YOU to get them back!” Acting as dramatic as you can, you pointed to a video conveniently pulled up on his computer.

“W-What!? Admiral? What is this? Is that.. Is that Lord Diavolo?” His eyes narrowed as he tried to process everything in his head. Clicking play on the video, he watched closely.

The video showed a rather menacing looking Lord Diavolo, and behind him, the six brothers, shackled in very real looking chains, calling out for help from their rescuer.

“If you wish to see your brothers again, I request that you bring me a gift in exchange for them. It must not be any gift, you see. It must be special. A once in a lifetime item that will be impossible to replicate. Bring it to me and you will set your precious family free. I hope to see you soon, Grand Admiral Leviathan.” Lord Diavolo smirked with a wicked grin just before the camera cut out.

The wheels in Levi’s brain were spinning rapidly. Confusion was all over his face.

“Of course! I know what this is! This must be the new game that I pre-ordered. I never thought it would be so realistic.” He was babbling to himself, forgetting that you were still very much in the room with him.

Trying to regain his focus, you were quick to get back into character. “Grand Admiral? What are we to do about this? What could he possibly want as a gift?”

Levi looked around, trying to figure out a possible solution. “I have plenty of limited edition items, this should be easy!” His voice was filled with confidence, as he went to look through his various Ruri-Chan items that were no longer in the place he remembered. A quick and easy vanishing spell granted by Solomon was much more effective than you imagined.

He frantically looked around his room, creating a mess of his once somewhat neat space. “Where are they!?” His voice was faltering, more panic setting in.

“Where is what?” You asked, confused, but calm, trying to keep up the false facade of being an ordinary game character of sorts. When he didn’t reply, you walked over and gently put a hand on his shoulder. “Admiral?”

“I could have sworn they were all here! All of my limited edition Ruri-Chan items! They’re gone! Does this mean that I missed something? Are there any other clues from that video? What could Lord Diavolo possibly be asking for if I don’t have it?” Levi paced around the room, going back to his computer to check every detail.

“Perhaps we can head to a local shop to see if there is anything of such a high value?” Trying to steer him onto the right track, you tried to bargain with him. The light in his eyes shined as he smiled excitedly. You could tell how excited he was to go on an adventure.

“That’s perfect! Yes! Let’s go! We can’t waste any time!” Grabbing your arm, he was quick to try to pull you from the room but you stopped him just before he was able to go out.

“Grand Admiral, I believe you need to change. You can’t possibly go out looking like this. Your uniform is pressed and awaiting you in the closet. I will be waiting just outside the door for you. Please do hurry.” With a smile, you headed out of his room, patiently waiting for Levi to return in his special outfit.

While waiting for him, you quickly and sneakily texted the group chat to let everyone know your current situation, and that the plan was indeed working. Mammon was the first to reply, saying that it was unbelievable that he was even buying it, and that he was gullible, which led to an argument about Mammon. But time was ticking, and he seemed eager. So you simply texted “everyone be ready” and made sure to tuck your temporary phone away.

Another minute passed and Levi finally hyped himself up enough to walk through the door. Dressed in a customized admiral outfit, you could see the glow of confidence radiating off of him. He was standing a little taller, with a more sophisticated smile. He didn’t look like the normal every day otaku that his brothers always made fun of. This was a different Levi. A confident Levi.

“Let’s go. We can’t waste any time. I can’t let anything happen to my brothers.” He ushered you to follow him, leading you both out of the door where a ride was waiting to take you to the Devildom Shoppes.

Upon your arrival, everything seemed normal, there were people all around, walking around, looking at items, just another normal day in Devildom. That was until Levi began to make his way through the crowd, with you following a close pursuit behind him. The crowd parted for him, allowing him to pass with ease, bowing slightly in his presence, just as they would for a well known and well praised admiral.

You could even hear faint whispering about him. All good things to feed into Leviathan’s confidence, should he be listening. He deserves it, after all.

Looking back and holding the door for you, he waited for you to enter the store with him. Upon entering, you could see all of the various rare collectible items. The store had everything Levi could dream of, all of the items he had thought he owned just a bit ago back in his room. Quickly, he started looking around, seeing as he was familiar with the items.

Following close behind, you made eye contact with the person on the other side of the shelf that Levi was currently looking through.

“What do you think of this?” The Avatar of Envy held up a rare figurine. “Do you think this would be enough to get my brothers back? It is a one of a kind misprinted figure.” Seeing the slight frustration in his eyes, you shook your head.

“It has to be super special. Something that cannot be replicated.” You reminded him, cueing the other person in the store to make his move.

“You are looking for something special hm?” A voice spoke, causing Levi to look up.

“Solomon?” He asked under his breath, hoping the white haired familiar didn’t pick up on it.

“I may have something that could be of interest.” The shady wizard smirked, looking around to make sure they were alone.

Levi was interested, waiting to see what Solomon had. Carefully, the sorcerer pulled a shimmering, glowing book from a magical inside pocket of his coat. The otaku’s eyes lit up, immediately recognizing the item of interest.

“What?! Is that the first ever draft of TSL? Hand-written and signed by the author!?” Levi could hardly contain his excitement. He was nearly squealing like a nerd at the sight of such a beloved item that he had never pictured being so close to. He reached to hold it.

“Indeed it is.” Solomon’s pulled the book away right before Levi’s hand touched it. “Ah, are you sure this is something you are looking for, however? It is my prized possession and I would hate to let it go to the wrong hands.” The wizard’s words were meant to be condescending, but with the confidence Levi had gained over the last hour or so, along with his long dream of owning this special item, he nodded. “I will protect it with my life, you have my word.”

With that, the book was now in Levi’s possession. He held it close to him, hugging it, and smiling with the biggest grin you had ever seen from him. Even dressed in an honorable outfit, he was still just the cute nerd that everyone loved.

“I must get going. I wish you good fortune on your journey, wherever it may take you.” Solomon smiled and headed out of the store, assumingly to head back to the castle where the others are waiting patiently.

“Now, Grand Admiral, do you have a plan for how to go about this exchange?” You asked, intrigued to know what Levi had in mind, now that he had just gotten the one thing he would very likely never let go of.

“Of course I have a plan, but we have to get to the castle. I can’t wait any longer.” With a smile, he held out his arm for you to go in front of him, leaving the store behind. Onwards to the castle.

Upon reaching the “evil” castle, you entered, and it wasn’t quite the sight you were expecting. Diavolo really had gone above and beyond decorating the place. It wasn’t the light, bright, uplifting golden color everyone was used to, instead it seemed more dull, and gloomy, radiating the “evil” that was intended.

Speaking of the devil, appearing from the shadows came Lord Diavolo, in his demon form to appear more sinister, playing the part quite well, in fact. “Ah, Grand Admiral Leviathan. I see you have finally come to rescue your helpless brothers.” With a twisted smile Diavolo greeted Levi, and Levi’s face turned from confidence to the slightest hint of fear.

Mustering up any and all courage, he spoke. “I have. Where are they? I have what you’ve asked for. But I will not give it to you blindly.” Leviathan flashed the glimmering book, earning a chuckle from the demon lord.

“Smart one you are. Very well. Follow me.” The prince spoke, guiding both Levi and you down the hallway. Luckily for you, everyone else, and Levi, he never pays attention when he is at the castle. There are too many rooms, hallways, and places to get lost, so he never bothers to look beyond where he is supposed to be. This works in your favor rather well.

There was a large set of doors, the handles wrapped in a lingering smokey magic, a seal to ensure that no one was getting in or out. Levi had looked to you, cautiously, almost worried that something bad were to be behind this set of doors that he had never seen before. With a snap of the prince’s fingers, the smoke dissipated from the handles and Diavolo slowly opened the doors.

Behind them, was not at all what Levi was imagining. He nearly froze in shock, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open, and his brain desperately trying to make sense of what was before him.

“Surprise!! Happy Birthday Levi!” Everyone yelled as colorful confetti flew through the air. Setting a hand on the special boy’s shoulder, you guided him into the room.

“What is all of this?” He asked you, looking around to see all of the familiar faces. His brothers, Solomon, Luke, Simeon, Barbatos, and even Diavolo.

“A surprise party, duh!” You laughed, watching as the otaku’s mind shatters right before your very eyes.

“You should have seen the look on your face!” Mammon called from the corner, getting jabbed in the arm by Lucifer.

“Wait- So this isn’t a game?!” His eyes filled with concern as he looked down at the outfit he was wearing, and took another look at the book in his grasp.

“No, it isn’t a game. MC thought it would be a fun idea to lead you on an adventure to get you to actually come here. We were all in on it. I’d say they did a pretty good job!” Diavolo’s bellowing laugh was accompanied by the biggest grin.

“And before you ask, that book is yours now Levi. I know you will take great care of it. I got special permission from the author himself.” The sorcerer spoke, glancing at Simeon, who shared a pleased smile, followed by a soft nod.

The embarrassed and blushing demon turned to you. “Wow.. I-I can’t believe you did this all for me. This was the best birthday ever!!” With a shy, but excited grin, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“I won’t ever forget today. Thank you, MC. I can’t wait to post about this!”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me babes #obey me swd #om! swd #obey me! shall we date?#swd obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me! leviathan #obey me fanfic #obey me! fanfic #levi x mc #happy birthday leviathan #obey me levi x mc

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lavenderbexlatte · 3 years

Note

Hello!!! Welcome to 🦋 anon's probably-way-too-overthought analysis on the m&m series in light of the new part. I have stopped crying and had about 24 hours to think, and I have discovered I have many thoughts, and this will probably be way more detailed than it should be.

The first thing I would like to address are some of the accusations Chan made at the end of the most recent part. (While I understand that they're supposed to not quite be accurate because of their obvious root in insecurity, and a lot of what I'm saying may just be like "yeah, obviously," I still would like to tell at the character a bit but I can't so this is what I have.)

Claim #1: "You fucking came at us at that party with your little girl-dom agenda and the guys fell for it, hook line sinker!"

This one's fairly self explanatory, no she didn't. They literally came onto her, even him, with his "There’s that pretty blush," and "Whatever you want it to be," lines. (And while yes, it's very likely that he was just trying to play it cool, but there's no way she could've known that, I'll come back to this later.)

Claim #2: "Nobody fucking asked me what I wanted!" "Nobody asked if I was sure that I wanted…"

Also mostly false, but he does have a tiny bit of a point. Yes, reader did grab his hair without asking, which is a little iffy, but she didn't actually rough with him until he goads her on. But I would argue that the reader is actually the ONLY one who asks him what he wants, if he's okay with things. While there may have been a little bit of discussion on the decision to approach the reader that we didn't see because of perspective (him saying this is kind of telling me that there wasn't, or at the very least not enough, maybe even some pressure for this to be the moment), or maybe Changbin said something while reader is with Jisung on the couch, after that, we don't see Jisung and Changbin check in with him at ALL, and there's not really an opportunity any other time for it just not have been noticed by the reader. As his partners, and the ones in the situation who have the full knowledge of Chan's situation, it should've been their responsibility to make sure he was alright throughout the process, even if they're not the ones in control for this situation, ESPECIALLY if they're going to keep this information from their Domme for the night (which really, I would say, wasn't a good idea, but no one is required to out themselves so I'll leave it alone).

HOWEVER, the reader does check with him, several times. She asks for boundaries/hard limits/etc before they even start anything, and while again, he's not required to say "hey, having a sexuality crisis, first time with a girl, kinda nervous," and he may not want to tip off Jisung and Changbin that something's wrong, that would be the time to say something like "I'm not feeling anything rough tonight, if you could be gentler that would be great." She asks them if there's anyone that doesn't actually want to fuck her. Also, she implements a safeword system (which she specifically calls him out to make sure he's okay with), which they weren't even going to USE, and asks them at least twice throughout the scene for their color, and Chan specifically if he's okay at least two more times besides that. Actually Chan almost makes fun of her for asking so many questions, so I think this claim is just another part of his insecurity-fed delusion that she's conspiring to ruin his life, or something, but again I'll come back to that. My point is that despite being the only one who doesn't know his situation, reader is also the only one who checks in with him.

There are a few other things he said that I took issue with, but those are the main two.

Next; Chan's delusion that reader is like conspiring to ruin his life. (Really like how you depicted this by the way, though I may be thinking wayyy too far into this.) I remember watching some video when I had one of my mental health/disorders hyperfixations. The video was about schizophrenia, and while I definitely don't think Chan has schizophrenia, one of the things the video talked about was types of delusions, and this kind of reminded me of one of them. I don't remember what it's called, but it's basically a delusion based around one idea, and then you force the world around you to fit into that idea. One example of this that I can think of is Azula from ATLA. Towards the end of her arc in the TV series, she starts seeing hallucinating her mother everywhere, and you get a peek of her fixed belief that her mother is behind everything that has gone wrong in her life, which is expanded upon a little bit in the books. Obviously Chan's not experiencing delusion to the extent that she did, but I did see some (albeit much less intense) parallels that were interesting. See, if he only talked about how his boyfriends seemed to like the reader more than him, that would be one thing, but he brings up his mother as well, which even though they did speak, it's a little out there to say that your mother likes someone she's talked to once more than you. That, combined with his insisting that the reader is playing some sort of game makes me think of that a little.

Of course this was only at first, when I was like "wtf, where is this 'my boyfriends like you more than me' thing coming from?" And then I reread the first few parts for this monstrosity of an ask that I'm writing rn. While at first I thought that this was entirely out of left field, when I read through the first few parts, especially the second one, with the knowledge that he felt that way, I noticed a few things you had put in there.

For the majority of the scene, or at least the first good chunk, the reader deals with Jisung and Changbin alone, leaving Chan by himself to watch. Obviously, as we see the reader's perspective, we know that it's because she found Chan's attitude intriguing and wanted to be able to deal with that one on one (at least that's what I got from it), it's easy to see now how to someone who's already insecure about their relationship and themselves, that would read as someone replacing you. Especially when Jisung, with no ill intent, but still, outright rejects his help in favour of the reader, and once again, he is left out, only this time it's accompanied with the sting of knowing (or at least feeling) that your partner didn't want you involved.

Now I kinda want to go character by character, and idk, talk about what I think they did wrong? We'll see, I'm not going to edit this so here we go.

Jisung and Changbin : Honestly, looking back on 3racha's first encounter with the reader, they really should have done better as Chan's partners. Like I said earlier, as the ones who knew Chan's situation, and the ones who likely pressured him slightly into he whole ordeal, it was really their responsibility to make sure Chan was okay with everything that was going on. That, and them feeling the need to sneak around with reader behind Chan's back doesn't sit right with me. I get that they have an open relationship, but there's a difference between having an open relationship and hooking up with someone your partner doesn't like, and actively trying to hide that you're hooking up with them. Their relationship boundaries may be fine with that, but idk, something feels off about it.

(I couldn't figure out where to put this and you may have already addressed this but it's my little theory/headcanon that Chan actually suspected it was reader at Jisung's place, and when there wasn't anyone there, he kinda gaslighted himself afterwards, idk. With the new knowledge it feels likely.)

Also, knowing that they were together for a while before Chan joined the relationship I think explains so much about the communication issues they seem to have with him. While I do think Chan has trouble communicating his feelings about things, I think their established communication and knowing eachother really well doesn't help. I may just be making things up at this point, but I feel like they have trouble with communication with Chan specifically, maybe forgetting that he doesn't have the same time/experience thy have with each other? If that makes sense?

Chan : oh boy. I've gone into a lot of detail already, so I'll try to keep this brief. Obviously, I think he has a looooottt of insecurity he needs to work through. If I were reallllyyy analyzing this I would say maybe a past cheating partner(?), but unless that's relevant to the plot I'm not sure if that's just me reading too much into this. Also mentioned before, COMMUNICATION ISSUES. One thing that would prevent half of the issues with this series is Chan communicating with his partners, though I suppose that wouldn't be near as much fun to read. Or just communicating I'm general, like I said, he had a plethora of opportunities to communicate to reader if he wanted something different, and didn't. So, yeah. Honestly I think he causes most of his own problems, but I feel like we knew that.

Reader : Now. I spent most of this series completely on the reader's side. Last night after reading part six, I was like "oh my god. He's right!" But then I took a while and thought a lot about it (as you can see), and honestly, I think reader probably did the least wrong out of everyone. Yes, the hair thing was a little iffy, like I said earlier, but once I went back and realized that he was actively participating and egging her on, I don't think that's necessarily something she did wrong. Beyond that, she did the most in regards of communication (at least during sex, after is another story), even more than the partners themselves. I think she did the best she could with the information that was given to her. She saw three guys approach her as a unit, and while yes, she didn't ask before engaging with Chan, I don't think it's really her fault for assuming that they were all interested as a unit as well. She had no reason to question any of their sexualities, why would she? She sees three partners approach her in unison, why wouldn't she assume they were on the same page? Anyway, all that to say, I think reader is the most innocent of all the main characters so far, though I may feel different after sitting on this for more time.

Anyway, here's this unedited brain dump, loved the new part, enjoy. Or not ig - 🦋

i've been sitting on this for like a week bc it's just so long and amazing??? and i have no idea what to say?? 🥺🥺

the bit about chan having a sort of delusion that reader is out to ruin his life in a pointed, conspired way is VERY interesting. their dynamic is actually something that i pulled from myself, in a way. i'm really superstitious about dumb things. i hate, like, bumping into someone or accidentally saying something that hurts someone's feelings bc i know that that karma/vibe/intention (whatever you wanna call it, i'm not spiritual just paranoid) is gonna come back around.

reader is the opposite. she's just walking around doing things and thinking about herself, and then being shocked when there are equal and opposite reactions to the stuff she does. i overthink everything, so reader doesn't think nearly enough.

but lemme say

that the best thing you said is how jisung and changbin are absolutely not the innocent bystanders that everyone seems to think they are 🤐🤐 most readers LOVE those two. but think about it...what are they trying to accomplish, here? 👀

#🦋 anon #a long one!!! a good one!!!#wishing feedback #tw schizophrenia #just a mention but i'll tag just in case

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blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms · 3 years

Text

Monster Tree - Freddie Kingsley

Pairing: Freddie Kingsley x Reader

Characters: Freddie Kingsley

Warnings: N/A

Request: N/A

Word Count: 499

Author: Hannah

It was no secret among the Abbey Mount girls that Freddie was essentially off limits, what with being the headmistress’ son and all, but you hadn’t really listened to that.

Somehow, you’d gotten Freddie to agree to going out with you and since then the two of you had been together; it had been a little over six months and now you were approaching Christmas.

Most of the girls went home for Christmas but as this was your first year with Freddie, and your parents were going away anyway, Mrs Kingsley had invited you to spend it with the two of them and their family.

Freddie had told you how his family were all celebrating in Mrs Kingsley’s house by the coast that year, but as Mrs Kingsley was staying at Abbey Mount for a few more days you and Freddie got to go there early to decorate.

“This is our first time decorating together,” you commented to Freddie as he drove you both to his home.

He laughed, placing a hand on your thigh. “Always with the stellar observations love.”

You rolled your eyes but placed your hand atop his. “I’m excited Fred.”

He smiled over at you. “I’m happy you’re spending it with us love.”

“A few extra weeks with you? Who was I to say no?” you joked causing him to laugh again.

He squeezed your thigh as he turned down a small country road, where you could see the sea already.

Within a few moments you could see a gorgeous cottage that looked utterly deceiving in size. “I can’t believe you grew up here.”

Freddie chuckled, parking up the car and getting out to grab your bags. You followed him and all but gasped at the interior that met you.

“Bloody hell,” you breathed out as you looked around the freshly decorated house. “I thought we were decorating!”

Your boyfriend shrugged with a smirk on his face before holding his hand out to you to lead you through the house.

It was massive, to describe it in one word, and you were beyond excited to explore.

“I came early to put up all the base decorations, and Mum hired someone to do the rest,” Freddie explained but he stopped in front of what was easily a 7ft Christmas tree.

You stared at it for a few moments before turning back to Freddie. “And we’re to decorate this monster of a tree?”

He chuckled but nodded. “We’ll stick an album on, grab a drink and dig out the decorations love.”

You smiled, moving forward to wrap your arms around his neck causing his to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I’m a lucky guy, did you know that?” he questioned with a smile on his face.

You blushed, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Then I suppose that makes me lucky too?”

Chuckling again, Freddie leant down to kiss you gently. “I can’t wait for Christmas with you love.”

#Christmas #Christmas 2020 #Hannah #Freddie Kingsley #Freddie Kingsley One Shot #Freddie Kingsley Imagine #Wild Child #Wild Child One Shot #Wild Child Imagine #Monster Tree

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ollieofthebeholder · 3 years

Text

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr | Also on AO3

Epilogue: Martin Prime

“…see it into a new era. Please join me in welcoming to the podium the Head of the Magnus Institute of London, Dr. Walter…Kos-ki-e-wicz.”

“Fifteen months and he still can’t pronounce it properly,” Jon whispered under the cover of the applause that followed the introduction.

“He’s better than he used to be,” Martin whispered back, squeezing Jon’s hand gently. “Go make nice.”

Jon lifted Martin’s fingers to his lips and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to the knuckles before pushing back from the long table and getting to his feet. Martin turned his head towards where the podium ought to be, thankful they’d been able to come in early and get the layout of the room so he didn’t look like a complete tit staring off into the wrong direction, as the clapping gradually tapered off into an expectant silence.

“Thank you, Mr. Campbell.” Jon popped the normally silent P with a dry, pointed humor Martin knew well. When the laughter had died down, he continued in the deep, rolling affectation he had begun adopting when he needed to act as the face of the Institute. “Friends, colleagues, distinguished guests. I stand before you tonight with the awesome and humbling privilege of thanking you all for coming to celebrate two hundred years of the Magnus Institute.”

Martin, who had listened to Jon practice this speech in the comfort of their living room at least twenty times in the last two weeks, let it fade into the background and settled back into his seat. Not being able to scan the assembled gathering was annoying, but while this might have been the largest event they had attended in the past year, it was by no means the first. He was used to having to fold his hands over his stomach, or the end of his cane, and imagine what everyone’s faces were doing.

A familiar whirring started up from the space Jon had vacated, and Martin smiled and laid his fingers on the tape recorder as it buzzed away. Somehow, it was comforting to know she was still listening, even now.

It hadn’t been easy getting to this point. Martin had never really actually expected killing Jonah Magnus to instantly make everything sunshine and roses again, but he definitely hadn’t expected the attempt to drain Jon so badly that he collapsed in his arms. Nor had he expected that it would take three days for him to open his eyes again. (Melanie had teased Jon a bit about “taking this whole Messiah Complex to extremes”, but even she’d been strained.) And the news from Great Yarmouth hadn’t helped matters. Martin was still kind of thankful that he hadn’t been able to see Sasha’s face when she got off the phone with Basira and reported what little she knew. Or the look on his counterpart’s face when he called and filled in the gaps thirty-six hours later. Martin had hoped they’d get out of the building before blowing it up, but at least they hadn’t gone into the Unknowing itself.

It had still been touch and go, though, and Tim was still adjusting to his new reality, but thankfully he had plenty of support. Martin could hear in their voices when they spoke that they were happy, in a way he was only just learning himself that he could be.

Jon made a surprisingly good Institute Head. It hadn’t necessarily been something he’d planned on, but when they got back from taking Charlie to see Present Jon and Present Martin—who refused to leave the hospital until Tim was awake and ready to come home himself—and Melanie informed him about the new temporary head, Jon had almost literally hit the roof and stormed the Institute himself. It had taken him two days to manage to get an audience with Peter Lukas, but in the end, he’d stood before him and informed him that he had a choice: Vacate his position and leave the Institute alone, or be destroyed utterly.

Peter Lukas, unsurprisingly, had chosen poorly.

For Jon to subsequently take control of the Institute had been Sasha’s idea, and her points—that Jon was bound to the Institute and would need a reason to stay close to it, that he was the only person who knew enough to keep it running and keep it safe, that anyone else would either make things worse or become corrupted by the Beholder—had been valid. She’d crafted an entire identity for both Jon and Martin and somehow managed to have Dr. Walter Koskiewicz declared Elias Bouchard’s sole heir. Publicly, that was who he was and who he remained, but on the day he’d assumed the position of Institute Head, he had called a meeting of all the department heads and bluntly, concisely, and completely told them the entire truth. He had left it up to each head whether or not to tell their staff everything—although he was emphatic that they be told about the Eye, at least to some extent—and had made it clear that anyone who wanted to quit would be more than welcome to do so, with full severance; he wouldn’t hold it against anyone who chose to leave. But, as he had told Martin that night when he got back from the Institute, he didn’t want anyone else feeling trapped, or to not know they were working for, essentially, a fear god. He’d been far more surprised than Martin when, out of eighty-seven employees, only three had chosen to leave and one had asked for their job back a week later.

Getting the rest of Elias’s estate had taken longer. Obviously there was no body, so what they technically had was a missing person. Surprisingly, it was Daisy who’d pushed that forward by manufacturing proof that he’d been killed in the explosion at Great Yarmouth, claiming she’d followed him there as part of her hunt for Gertrude Robinson’s murderer. When Tim, freshly back in the Archives, looked over the assortment of tapes that had previously been in the tunnels and unerringly plucked the one with Gertrude’s death on it, Daisy’s superiors decided that he was responsible for the House of Wax as well, closed both files, and declared him officially dead.

Jon told Martin that Jonah Magnus had terrible taste in interior decorating. Martin told him he would just have to take his word for it.

Martin tuned back into Jon’s speech as he caught the words that meant he was winding down. He’d been reluctant to agree to this event, especially given what today was, but it was expected, so he’d caved, with a few stipulations. The speech, unfortunately for Jon, was non-negotiable, but at least he was able to keep it fairly short.

“And so, as we move into our third century, I leave you with a few carefully chosen words,” Jon said. “To our Institute donors, I give these words: Thank you for your support of the Magnus Institute over the years, and I hope that you will continue to support us throughout the changes to come. To those who come to the Institute to study and learn, I give these words: Your work furthers ours as much as ours furthers yours, and we look forward to working with you and developing that relationship, now and well into the future. And to you, the Institute employees, those who make this Institute what it is, I give these words…” He paused for a moment, letting the suspense build, and Martin licked the corner of his mouth to hide his smirk. It was obvious from Jon’s voice, though, that he wasn’t bothering to hide his own. “Three-day weekend. See you all on Monday.”

The cheers, applause, and laughter nearly drowned out Jon’s “Thank you”, and Martin let his grin escape as he joined in the applause. He heard the rustling of fabric and guessed what was happening a split-second before Wade’s tap to his elbow told him for sure they were giving Jon a standing ovation.

It went on for nearly a minute solid before it started to die down, and as Martin slowly sank back into his seat, he felt Jon’s gloved fingers tangle in his.

“Almost done,” Martin murmured, knowing Jon was close to his breaking point but would never admit it.

There were a few closing remarks, and then footsteps came over to them. “All right, if you’ll just stand over this way and greet a few people…”

“No more than half an hour. I mean it, Harrison,” Jon warned.

“I know, Mr.—I mean Dr.—uh, sir,” Harrison stammered. “I promise.”

“Mister Doctor Sir?” Martin teased Jon as Harrison walked away. “Sounds like something you’d name a character in Spire.”

“That’s Mister Doctor Director Sir to you.”

They shared a laugh before Martin took a half-step back, cane folded up in one hand and his other resting discreetly against the small of Jon’s back. Jon took a deep breath and straightened himself up, but didn’t move away from the point of contact. They’d learned their lesson one of the first times Jon had had to do an official event. Martin did some of the bookkeeping and budgeting for the Institute—God knew he’d picked up enough being Peter Lukas’s assistant, and Jon knew bugger all about the business side of things—but for the most part, he wasn’t an employee and certainly wasn’t who the more important guests at these events wanted to talk to, so he’d stepped back and stayed quietly in the background. Unfortunately, the Lukases were still Institute donors, and even if they avoided Jon beyond the bare minimum that politeness dictated, the presence of even one was still enough for Martin to slip back into old habits. Thank God the bond Annabelle had put on them was still extant and he’d been able to pull himself back, but it had still been a scary few minutes for both of them.

Most of the donors who spoke to Jon—briefly, Harrison was being as good as his word about limiting the official greetings—either ignored Martin or only acknowledged him with a silent nod, which amounted to the same thing. For the most part, Martin didn’t mind, but he could tell it was getting to Jon long before the fifteen-minute mark.

“Last one, sir, I promise,” Harrison whispered at last.

“Harrison, I have told you about the ‘sir’ thing,” Jon muttered. Martin hastily turned his laugh into a cough.

“Dr. Koskiewicz, so good to see you again.” Martin couldn’t place the speaker’s voice except that it was posh, which meant it was an Institute donor, and loud. Probably belonged to a large man, almost certainly an older one.

“It’s an honor to have you here, Sir Henry,” Jon replied, his voice slightly strained. Martin guessed that the man had a very firm handshake; an ordinary hand would be swollen and sore after half an hour of shaking, but the scarring on Jon’s made it far worse. “And you as well, Lady Vane-Tempest.”

“Lovely party, darling, so kind of you to invite us,” Lady Vane-Tempest said. Her voice, at least, Martin couldn’t forget—well-bred, but harsh and grating at the same time. He’d met the Vane-Tempests at the Christmas “party” he’d been forced to run on behalf of Peter Lukas and had not enjoyed the experience. “Congratulations on two hundred years. Obviously you haven’t been here the whole time, of course!” She trilled with laughter.

Martin felt Jon stiffen, and then he said with forced politeness, “Thank whatever gods you believe in that I haven’t, madam.”

“Looking forward to touring the building,” Sir Henry said. “Understand you’ve got some new interesting new acquisitions in your Artifact Storage. Love to see them.”

“We’re not doing tours this evening, I’m afraid,” Jon said. “That was the end of the gala, but it’s good of you to come. If you’ll get in touch with Ms. Zampano, I’m sure we can arrange a suitable time for you to see the building.”

“Oh, come now, darling, surely you can spare some time now,” Lady Vane-Tempest coaxed. If Martin was any judge, she’d been imbibing freely of the champagne, enough to get at least slightly tipsy. “We’re so looking forward to it.”

“I do apologize, but I have another commitment this evening.” Martin was a bit startled when Jon’s arm slid around his waist, but he willingly shifted his own position to return the gesture. The smile in Jon’s voice was obvious; he’d never been very good at hiding his pride and delight in anything to do with their relationship. “It’s our first wedding anniversary, you see.”

The Vane-Tempests mumbled polite congratulations, wished Jon a good night, and moved away. Jon let out a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his toes and sagged against Martin. “Thank God that’s over with.”

“That’s the last one,” Harrison promised. “I’ll just go say a few words to the press. Have a good weekend and—um—happy anniversary?”

“Thank you,” Jon and Martin said in unison. Martin unfolded his cane, and they walked out of the Institute the same way they had since escaping Peter Lukas in their own time—arm in arm.

Ninety minutes later and Martin, wearing his most comfortable sweater and a soft, threadbare pair of jeans, walked into the room they had designated as the “living room” with two mugs of tea and set them on the heavy, solid coffee table. “How’s the hand?”

“Still a bit sore, but I’ll recover.” Jon’s voice sounded slightly muffled. Martin wasn’t sure why until he heard the soft crackle of burning wood, and then Jon was right next to him and pulling him down for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Martin murmured, brushing his nose against Jon’s. As he pulled back, he added, “By the way, there was a message from the agency. They’re coming by for another assessment tomorrow, around noon.”

“Good thing I gave everyone the day off, then. Did she say anything about how the application is looking?”

“I don’t know that they’d tell us that on a message. We can ask when she gets here.”

The doorbell rang with the deep, sonorous tones Martin still privately felt belonged in a Gothic soap opera, and Jon sighed and slid out of Martin’s arms. “Bets on who got here first?”

“Not against you,” Martin informed him. Jon’s snickers followed him out of the room.

After more than a year of living in the house, Martin knew his way around by heart, especially after they redid the flooring so that he could tell by the texture beneath his feet which way he was heading. He made it to the front door without bumping into anything, made sure the chain was still secure, and pulled the door open to the length of the chain. “Who goes there?”

“Just the usual suspects,” Tim’s voice said. “We even found a Sasha rattling around in the gutters.”

“Shut up, Tim,” Sasha said, a bit grouchily.

Martin chuckled and closed the door enough that he could undo the chain, then pulled the door open. “Come on in. There’s a fire going.”

Each one of them gave him a hug as they came in, prefaced by a greeting so he’d know who he was hugging. He was pleasantly surprised when, after a fierce hug from Melanie, he heard a higher voice say, “It’s Georgie. Will you accept one from me?”

“Oh, sure, of course.” Martin hadn’t worried about any of Jon’s exes, or anyone who might possibly catch his interest and remind him that he could do better, since—well, actually, since they’d been reunited after traveling back in time, but the weight of the ring on his left hand and the memory of the tremble in Jon’s voice as he’d promised ‘til death comes for us both had finally quieted the last of his doubts. And Georgie did give good hugs. “Glad you could make it, Georgie. Anyone else?”

“No, Basira pulled a night shift tonight, I think. Here, let me get that.” Georgie—or someone, anyway—pulled the heavy door shut and slid the chain into place. “Hope we’re not too early.”

Martin shook his head. “You’re fine. Not like we’re doing anything particularly exciting.”

It took a few minutes of arranging, playful debates, and mostly-joking grumblings about getting those disgusting socks away from the food, Timothy Stoker, but soon everyone was settled down with something to drink and a baked good from the basket the others had brought with them. Jon sighed with obvious pleasure and curled up against Martin’s side; Martin wrapped an arm around him and held him close.

“Where’s Charlie tonight?” he asked.

“Late rehearsal, and Sasha’s uncle offered to pick him up and watch him after,” Present Jon answered. “We’d have brought him along, but he’s got a maths exam tomorrow and I know he’s not ready for it.”

Tim laughed. “Come on, Jon, cut him some slack. He’s doing much better this term than he did in the spring.”

“To be fair,” Melanie pointed out, “there was kind of a lot going on in the spring.”

There was a hum of agreement before Georgie added, “From everything you lot told me, I didn’t expect that grandmother of his to fight you so hard on custody.”

Present Martin sighed heavily. “I did. I mean, the last thing she wanted was for people to think she was a terrible guardian, you know? Even if Children’s Services didn’t get involved and take him away, the very fact that someone else dared ask to take him—and the fact that Charlie wanted to go…”

“And the fact that you kept insisting on referring to him as him, despite the fact that she has consistently and for his entire life refused to accept that he’s a boy,” Sasha put in. “She’s a poisonous old witch and he’s lucky to be shed of her. But yeah, between that and the fact that he got anxious and panicky and afraid to let any of you out of his sight—you know, at the beginning of April—it’s no wonder he came close to failing the spring term.”

There was a short pause before Present Martin asked carefully, “Did he tell you that, or…?”

“Oh, goddammit,” Sasha sighed. “He didn’t say anything to any of you about that, did he?”

“No, but we should have noticed,” Present Jon said quietly.

Melanie snorted. “I’m not sure how you would have, considering how clingy the three of you were being.”

Martin tightened his arms around Jon as the Archives crew began bickering, mostly lightheartedly but with an undercurrent of seriousness. During their first time experiencing…well, everything they had experienced…he and Jon had never really had a chance to stop and consider anniversaries. The one-year anniversary of Jane Prentiss attacking the Institute had fallen while they were trying to get ready for the Unknowing; the one-year anniversary of that had been while Martin was still having to avoid Jon, but he remembered staring at his reflection in the mirror and wondering if he would be better off calling out of work or if he should go in and lurk in the shadows of the Archives to reassure himself that Jon was actually still there. Passing the anniversaries—or, for that matter, the dates themselves—in a timeline where they didn’t technically happen hadn’t made things significantly better, so he could definitely understand why the present crew had been reluctant to be far from each other a year after so nearly losing one another, and more particularly nearly losing Tim.

Jon sank against him, also clinging tightly, and let the banter go on for a bit before he broke in. “Have you told Charlie about the trip?”

“We’re going to surprise him after school tomorrow,” Tim said, and Martin was pretty sure he could hear the relief in it. “Hope he likes the plan. He’s been asking to come with us the next time we go out of town since Jon got back from Jonah’s little hell-quest, and I don’t think he’s ever been out of London.”

“Well…you weren’t conscious at the time, but they did bring him to visit while you were…” Present Jon’s voice trailed off.

Martin was about to say something when something solid and heavy hit his leg on four tiny pressure points and screamed. Only six months of practice enabled him not to jump completely out of his skin. “Hello, Duchess.”

“Oh, damn, I didn’t feed them before the gala.” Jon carefully disentangled himself from Martin and removed the solid iron weight masquerading as a ball of fur from his lap. “Come along, Your Grace. What have you done with your sister?”

Martin couldn’t help the soft smile that touched his lips as he stared off in the direction Jon had gone. Hearing him talk to the cats in that tone of voice always did something funny to his insides.

The smirk in Melanie’s voice was obvious. “I genuinely can’t decide which one of you is going to be the bigger pushover when you get approved to adopt.”

“Have you heard anything yet?” Present Martin asked.

“There’s another visit scheduled tomorrow. We’re almost four months into this part of the process. I’m hoping we’ll have an answer soon.” Martin picked up his mug of tea and took a sip. It had started to cool a bit, but it was still drinkable. “Not that we’re in a hurry or anything, but it’d be nice to know, you know?”

“I could probably poke at your social worker’s mind and see if they have an answer,” Sasha offered. “It’d be easy.”

“Sasha, we’ve talked about this,” Present Jon said with an audible frown.

“Yeah, if I can manage to keep myself under control…” Tim trailed off. “Sorry, Georgie. I know you’d rather we didn’t talk about it.”

“It’s fine,” Georgie said with a sigh. “I’m getting used to it. It’s not like any of you can just…stop being what you are. Did—um—did your Georgie have a problem with it?”

It was the first time she’d asked about her past self since being introduced to Jon and Martin over a year ago, and Martin couldn’t explain why it felt so weird. “She did. At first, anyway. But I think it was less the whole…supernatural fear thing and more the fact that we—and particularly Jon—kept acting like nothing was wrong.”

“Yeah. At least you lot admit this is messed up.”

“Not so much the admitting it’s messed up as trying from the get-go not to play into it,” Jon’s voice said from the direction of the kitchen. The loveseat bounced slightly—very slightly—as he sat down, leaned into Martin’s side, and kissed his cheek. “Your cat is a menace.”

“Why is she only my cat when she’s misbehaving?” Martin teased, turning his head to capture Jon’s lips with his own before they moved away. “What’s Cosmic done now?”

“Just the fact that you know it was Cosmic Creepers—”

“The Duchess has made it very clear that she’s your cat.”

Sasha gave a mock-groan. “You two as actual parents are going to be insufferable.”

Melanie’s snort was practically elephantine. “Like you don’t have the three of these with Charlie as evidence for that.”

Martin sensed the remark calculated to cause maximum chaos coming before Tim opened his mouth, but there was nothing he could do to head him off. “So, Melanie, when are you and Georgie going to add a bundle of joy to your family?”

The resultant storm of profanity and invective directed at Tim sent Jon into paroxysms of laughter, and from the sound of it, Present Jon as well. Martin could imagine Tim’s triumphant, shit-eating grin. Even Sasha was giggling.

“Seriously. I don’t even want more than one cat,” Georgie finally said when the chaos wound down. “Children have never been in my plans. Not even remotely.”

“Have you ever thought about fostering?” Present Martin asked. “Teens, maybe? I bet you’d be good at it.”

A short silence followed the question, and when Melanie answered, there was a note of surprise in her voice. “Maybe. Not right now, though.”

“I guess my question is—and please, none of you take this the wrong way—why would you want to involve a child in the…life you’re all leading?” Georgie asked. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“No more than being a child is dangerous anyway,” Jon said. “Most of the fears don’t…a child’s fear isn’t fully formed, so it’s not as satisfying, but that doesn’t mean they don’t pay attention. I was marked young. So was Annabelle Cane. Callum Brodie was on the Dark’s radar long before Rayner chose him as a vessel. A-apparently the End was paying attention to all of us before my father died. A child being taken care of by someone who knows what’s out there, and isn’t…enamored with it, I suppose, stands a better chance than a child wholly unprepared.”

Martin rubbed Jon’s arm. “Besides. The more connections you have outside the Archives, the harder it is for the Fears to…use you. I guess. Even besides the Lonely, the more isolated you are, the easier you are to hurt.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Present Jon said, sounding like he was talking half to himself. “But it does make sense why Jonah tried so hard to pit us against one another. A person with no support is far more vulnerable. Far easier to use and manipulate.”

“And that’s what beat him in the end,” Melanie said. “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“Hear, hear.” Martin raised his mug in salute. Someone clinked a mug or glass against it, and the conversation drifted to other, less volatile topics.

They’d done this a lot over the last year. Ever since Jon, or his alter ego, had officially inherited the estate, they spent more evenings and weekends here than they did in Tim, Present Martin, and Present Jon’s house. First there’d been the intense repainting and redecorating period, during which Martin had offered deadpan commentary on color choices until Jon threatened to paint his mouth shut and Tim had unearthed more than a few artifacts belonging to other entities in various nooks and crannies. Once they were settled in, there had been pizza and pasta-making parties, movie marathons, drinks after hard weeks, and game nights. They’d come over to wrestle the garden into submission in the spring, helped decorate the house for Christmas, and watched fireworks on New Year’s from the widow’s walk on the roof. Jon had even organized an Easter Egg hunt for the neighborhood children, which had been when Martin had finally broached the idea of reaching out to the local authority about beginning the adoption process.

And exactly one year ago tonight, they had stood in the drawing room they never otherwise used and finally, finally made the bond between them a legal one.

“I can’t believe you two are spending your anniversary like this,” Sasha said, and if Martin didn’t know for a fact that she couldn’t read his mind beyond finding a back door into his dreams when Jon’s lay alongside her, he’d have told her off for it. “You’re such hopeless romantics, I expected you to go out for a candlelit dinner somewhere. Moonlit stroll in the park. Kissing under the stars.”

“It’s Thursday,” Martin reminded her.

“We’re going to Scotland for the weekend,” Jon said. “That’s part of the reason I gave everyone a three-day weekend, so we could get an early start and make the most of it.”

“I accuse you of abusing your position for your own gain,” Georgie said, but she was laughing as she did so.

“I’ll confess to that,” Jon replied immediately. Martin couldn’t help but laugh. “But seriously, we—it’s going to be a nice, relaxing weekend, but we thought spending the evening with our family would be a good start.”

Something thumped down on the coffee table. Martin guessed it was Melanie’s glass. “You know what I can’t believe? That you picked the eighteenth of October to get married. I mean, you know literally everything in the world, and certainly everything about the Institute. You had to know that was the day the Institute was founded. And then you had to spend your first anniversary making nice with the donors. Why would you do that?”

Martin looked in Jon’s direction. “You want to tell them, or shall I?”

Jon sighed heavily and dropped his head to Martin’s shoulder. “You go ahead. I’d rather not say it out loud.”

“Uh-oh.” Tim sounded worried. “This is…what happened on the eighteenth of October, 2017 in your timeline?”

“Bugger all,” Martin replied. “It was today. In our original timeline, this was when Jonah slipped his ritual into a statement and fed it to Jon against his will. Eighteenth October, 2018.” He ran his hand through Jon’s hair, which had fallen out of its braid. “We didn’t want to wait until this year to get married, but we’d already agreed that we wanted it to be the eighteenth. We wanted to take back the day Jonah Magnus tried to ruin and make it ours.”

“To replace the memories,” Present Martin said softly.

“Exactly. He’s taken too damn much from us already. We’re not letting him have everything.” Martin pressed a kiss to the top of Jon’s head.

“So where in Scotland are you going?” Present Jon asked.

“John O’Groats. It’s—Daisy used to have a safehouse up there,” Jon explained. “Well, she still has the house, but she’s just renting it out to vacationers these days. She told us we could use it for free a couple times a year as a thank-you for helping her get the Hunt under control.”

“Yeah, Basira says she’s a lot more relaxed than she was when she was a cop,” Sasha said. “If you can believe it. Is that where you two stayed…um, up until the eighteenth of October?”

“Yep.” Martin popped the P in a method that, he hoped, would indicate the subject is closed and you should not push further, Sasha James.

Thankfully, it seemed to work. Georgie was the next to speak up. “What about you three? Do you have plans for your trip to America or is it just more of a ramble?”

“We were planning to visit Boston,” Present Martin answered. “Lots of history, lots of walking trails, lots of potentially haunted stuff. But…well, Jon changed things around a couple weeks ago and he’s been vague about what we’re doing now.”

“Oh.” Present Jon sounded both embarrassed and excited. “I—ah—I’m sorry, I got so…I completely forgot I hadn’t told you. I managed to track down my cousin. You know, the one I stayed with for a bit before starting uni? He moved to a new town about the time I started at the Institute, actually. Apparently he’s married now. His husband sounds…um, interesting. And he wants to meet you two—and Charlie, too. I actually managed to get us tickets out there. I—I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind getting the chance to meet a relative that not only doesn’t hate you, but doesn’t care you’re in a relationship with two other men and is excited about the idea of meeting us? Of course we do, it sounds horrific, why would you do something like that,” Tim said flatly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jon, we’d love to meet your cousin.”

“It’ll be fun,” Present Martin agreed. “Did you ever…I mean, have you met him?”

It took Martin a second to realize the question was directed at him. “Honestly, until you all started talking about him, I didn’t even know Jon had a cousin.”

“I’d love to see him again,” Jon said, a bit wistfully. “I do miss him. I suppose asking you to pass on my best wishes would be a little much, but…”

“I’m going to tell him,” Present Jon said softly. “About all of this. I think he deserves to know, and…I think he can handle it.”

“Well. Give me a call if you get the chance. I’d love to talk to him.”

“Of course.” Present Jon hesitated. “I—um, I think he might have a couple…statements. Something about the way he said ‘scientifically interesting’ when talking about the town. I’m going to tell him about…this, and us, and what we can do. Let him decide if he wants to share.”

Jon made a slightly pained noise, but Martin rubbed his arm soothingly and said, “You’ll probably need something. At least Tim will. That’s—you’ll be too far from the Institute for too long not to take a statement or two. Better if it’s someone willing, wouldn’t you say?”

Tim took a deep breath. “Does it ever get any easier? Needing to—sensing in your case, or seeing in mine, that someone has a statement, and needing it so badly?”

“Not really,” Jon admitted. “It’s why I don’t go out alone so often. The trouble is that sometimes it helps them and sometimes it…doesn’t, and you can never tell before they tell their stories whether it will or not. The Eye likes it better when it’s…forced, but the Eye can honestly get stuffed. We’re doing this on our terms.”

“Hell yeah,” Tim said with a laugh. Jon leaned forward at Martin’s side, and from the sounds, he guessed they were bumping their fists together.

They spent about another hour together, talking and laughing and generally relaxing. Finally, though, Present Martin asked, “How early were you two planning to head out?”

“Not until early afternoon. The social worker is coming, remember?” Martin shrugged. “But if you lot want to get going…”

“Yes, we—we should probably make sure Charlie’s in bed, and I’m sure Wade is ready to be released,” Present Jon said. There were a number of rustles and creaks as everyone got to their feet, and Martin stood, too, stretching out his spine. “Call us when you get there.”

“We will. Let us know when you get to America,” Jon replied.

“Are you taking the cats, or do you want us to stop by and look after them?” Melanie asked.

Martin paused and looked in Jon’s direction. He could practically feel his thoughts flowing between them, running through the bond Annabelle had put on them like a telegraph wire. “Well, we were going to take them, but…actually, would you mind?”

“Of course not. We’d be delighted,” Georgie said.

Jon squeezed Martin’s waist, then slid away. “Come here, then, let me show you where we keep the food.”

Martin saw the others to the door and handed out another round of hugs. Jon arrived with Georgie just before they pulled away, so was at least able to wave, and he hugged both Georgie and Melanie and thanked them again. And then it was just the two of them, alone in their house, and together.

Jon shut and latched the door, then took Martin’s hand. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?”

“Mm-hmm. Close your eyes and follow me.”

Martin smiled more broadly, but he did as Jon asked. Jon led him through the house and up three flights of stairs. It somehow didn’t surprise Martin when Jon pushed open a final door and he heard the soft sounds of an autumn evening.

“Stargazing?” he teased.

“It is a good night for it,” Jon said, not rising to the bait. “But no, not what I had in mind.” He tugged Martin forward a few feet, then added, “You can open your eyes now.”

Martin didn’t point out that it wouldn’t do any good; he simply opened his eyes. He could smell roses and peonies, he thought—the same flowers they’d decorated the drawing room with for their wedding. There was a soft click, and a tape recorder began playing—which made him smile—and then Jon was there and holding his hands. “Can I have this dance?”

Martin’s smile broadened as he recognized the song. “For the rest of your life.”

Martin let Jon lead him, singing quietly along with the music as he did so. He was still barefoot and it was a bit cold on the widow’s walk for that, but he didn’t care. It was the song they’d chosen as their first dance at their wedding, something of a fast waltz, but the lyrics had struck both of them as being so very them. As soon as Martin realized that, he also realized that this was probably the tape Tim had made for them to play at their wedding. It had been their way of ensuring that Annabelle, if she was still listening, would be able to be a part of things, too.

They still made a point of shooing out spiders and cleaning out cobwebs, but the tapes? Those could stay.

When the first song was over, rather than let Jon go, Martin simply shifted his grip and took the lead for the second song on the tape—the first song they had ever danced to, in Tim and Present Martin and Present Jon’s kitchen the night they’d moved in. He pulled Jon closer, letting their foreheads touch, and sang along to that one as well. He could feel Jon shiver in his arms and knew, knew, it wasn’t the cold that was doing it.

They slowed to a stop just before the song ended. Jon slid his arms around Martin’s neck and simply held him; Martin wrapped his around Jon’s waist and pulled him even closer until their bodies were flush, until they were practically fused into a single person.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you, too,” Jon whispered back. “Happy anniversary, Martin.”

“Happy anniversary.” Martin leaned forward and kissed him thoroughly.

Jon kissed him back, deeply and intensely and with all the emotions they had built up between them over the years: loneliness and desperation and fear, love and tenderness and hope. They had fought their damnedest for a moment they thought would never come, and now that it had, Martin was going to savor it. This and every other moment that ever could be.

At last, the need for air forced them to separate, and Jon laughed quietly. “You know what I didn’t think through about this?”

“We’re still barefoot?” Martin guessed.

“We are still barefoot,” Jon agreed. “And I’m still rather…worn out from the day. What do you say we go inside, shut the cats in their room for the night, and make use of that oversized tub in the downstairs bath?”

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” Martin said. He kissed Jon again, very softly, and then stepped back. “Lead on, Mr. Blackwood-Sims.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Blackwood-Sims,” Jon drawled. He stopped the tape with a gentle click, then laced his fingers through Martin’s, the metal of his wedding band smooth and cool against his fingers as it rolled over the webbing between them. “Come on, my love.”

Hand-in-hand, Martin and Jon, the man he’d loved for years, the man he’d fought for, fought with, the reason he had survived apocalypse after apocalypse, his anchor—his husband—turned away from the world they had somehow managed to save and into their home, into the future they had made.

Together.

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #jonmartim #I am glad to be with you here at the end of all things #god I can't believe this is OVER

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artxyra · 4 years

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So, me and @ThatWeirdPepperMint were wondering if you could do this request. Jason one day sneaks out and goes to a nearby ally where he finds Marinette not knowing that the fam was following. He asks Mari about buying mini guns and she gets them out of her heels, he ends up with gun-heels and wears them as as Red Hood. In that week all the fam got something from her. Tim got usb-nails. Dick got jetpack heels and retractable zip line watch. Damian got infi-purse. And Bruce got a tiara-shield.

Note: I totally did not look up Totally Spies gadgets for inspiration for some of the weapons.

It was Dick who suspected that something was up with Jason. The second oldest Wayne had been disappearing more often than usual only to return with a weapon he has never seen it in the stores. He tried to get information out of his brother about where he was but was only meet with the usual stream of threats or a careless shrug before disappearing for days on end.

The next to figure something was off, was Damian. Though for the youngest Wayne he had little care for his second oldest brother. Damian had run into Jason holding his newest weapon that was completely out of character for him. It was some kind of belt that had an expandable cable bungee. The belt did not go with his Red Hood outfit at the time, but before Damian had the chance to interrogate the male about the item, Jason had disappeared.

Then there was Tim and he had actually found out by going to get a late-night coffee and somehow ended up bumping into his predecessor, who was coming out of an alleyway with a bracelet in hand. At first, the coffee addict didn’t think much of until the idea that Jason had a secret lover pop into his brain. Instead of letting that idea down, he ended up entering a constantly dead-end investigation.

It was no shock that everyone else involved with the Wayne family's nightly activities was also intrigued by Jason’s newest additions of weapons. However, what shocked them all was when Stephanie (Steph) returned with Jason with a pair of diamond earrings. Of course, speculations began to grow among everyone, but when Spoiler ended up using the same new pair of earrings as a cutting tool they knew that whoever was making these weapons just so happened to include Steph as a client.

For half a year, they have tried to find this unique weapon dealer that Jason (and sometimes Steph) happily order from, only to be met with more dead ends. Fortunately for them, their search will soon come to an end.

Jason had broken his latest gadget, a wristwatch, on his latest mission. Dick managed to gather the immediate family (i.e. Tim, Damian, and Bruce) to follow the person behind the Red Hood anti-hero. However, Jason was streets smart. He zigged through the city; they had nearly lost him until the anti-hero had reached an alleyway just blocks away from crime alley. The family watch over the scene on the rooftops staying in the shadows.

Jason had entered from the alley’s opening and is immediately greeted by a shield of fog. The anti-hero doesn’t seem deterred from the scene before him.

“Arme chanceuse.” He states in the direction of the fog. Jason was no idiot; he knew his family is watching him, but he just couldn’t find any fucks to give at the moment.

The Batfam is shocked by the appearance of a female, looking no older than Damian. This female has long dark hair curled at the end with a mix of pink and red highlights. She was wearing in a two-piece dress, the top being a long sleeve laced with an intricate design as her skirt had a waist-high slit showcasing a pair of dark leggings and black heeled combat boots with pink and red shoestrings.

“You’re not alone, Jay-Jay.” She says crossing her arms and taking a sit in a chair that was behind a red and black table.

“Don’t care enough, Pixie. They’ve been trying to find this out for six months and at this moment, I don’t have any fucks to give. So, can you help?” Jason states causing the infamous weapon dealer to smirk.

“What you need.” She sasses back to her client.

“Miniguns the best you got.” He says giving her a knowing look.

The dealer sighs and puckers her lips. “I was saving these for Steph, but you apparently need them more.” The fog grows around the dealer and it fades away, in her hands are a pair of black heels.

“Uh, what the fuck?”

“Do you want the guns or not? The heels are the barrels, there is a safety mechanism outside the heels that you can access to minimize unwanted triggers. The magazine is on the shank. Not my best work but these combat heel boots can get the job done.” She explains gesturing to every area she talked about.

Jason picks up the heels and examines them. “Now I understand why these were meant for Steph. Thanks, Pixie, I’ll take good care of them.”

“You better!” She cries out before continuing with, “The amount of material and thinking to make them work took ages, Jay, ages!”

Jason chuckles before wishing his dealer a goodbye.

Before the Batfam could incept the two, the fog blocks their vision and suddenly it was just Jason alone in an alleyway looking the same expect the newest addition of a pair of heeled boots on his feet.

They did not see Jason again until the patrol as Red Hood.

“So, Hood, where did you get the heels? They’re looking pretty nice.” It was Nightwing that would ask first.

“Like you don’t know.” The anti-hero grunts and struts away from his oldest brother. Nightwing stares aghast and somewhat offended.

At first, the boys thought the heels were nothing but a bad joke but to see Red Hood in action, taking down each of his opponents, they knew this for real. Maybe, just maybe, they should talk to whoever this Pixie is that Jason gets his weapons from.

It was only a few nights later when the bat family corner Jason, place him in a dark room (tied up of course) and stood over him. Jason glares at his family and mentally thinks of ways to get rid of them all. The option of murder was high on his list of suggestions.

“Who’s Pixie?” Dick’s voice pipes causing every muscle in Jason to just give up. Seriously all of this just to get information about his weapon dealer.

That night led to the family officially meeting the person Jason calls Pixie the next day.

Pixie stares at her favorite customer with an eyebrow raised and arms folded against her chest. The greetings were stale only met with grunts and an awkward smile from Dick.

“Hi, I’m Marinette, you don’t have to call me Pixie, but I have some rules when it comes to doing business with me. I don’t make standard weapons. I only deal with those who deserve it, and money is the least of my concerns though it is welcomed.” Immediately, they knew they had just entered a business. A business that Jason, and in extension Steph, has been familiar with for months.

She gives them the secret word that would “summon” her for business. She only deals at night and at various alleyways. They also found out that she has a life outside of all this and sometimes would have to cancel if that was the case Jason would tell them. Wrapping up this tremendous moment, she gives them a week to figure out what they would like before disappearing in the fog that brought her there.

Throughout the week, each of the bat members tried to convince Jason to give them Marinette’s current location, and then go to Steph when Jason wasn’t bothered to be around them.

Tim went to Steph for Marinette's latest location. He ends up placing an order for a USB drive; what he got was beyond his coffee-addicted brain.

“This USB nail is the perfect disguise for quick transfers, it works just like any USB out there and looks and feels like a fake nail. You can transfer up to 128 gigabits. Though be careful, the nail can break with an excessive amount of force.”

Since that day, Tim has been using the nails for hacking or work assignments. He begins to swear by them.

On multiple occasions, Tim swears he had seen Dick wearing Red Hood’s gun boots and a longer version of his nails on a couple of occasions. Dick denies it every time, but they all knew the truth.

It took a while before Dick had come up with his ideal first weapon from Marinette. He wanted something grand and out of this world.

“You want jet pack heels and a zip line wristwatch,” Marinette states slowly trying to wrap her head around her newest order. It’s not something she isn’t used to, but the way he had explained it to her with this silly look on his face just creeped her out. “Okay.”

That night when Nightwing was on patrol, he was having a ball showcasing his new weapons. Batman had yelled at the male upon realizing that he was wearing something that was impractical. Nightwing flies away with his jet pack heels activated. Batman could only sigh and wonder how this even happened.

The next person to receive their Marinette original was Damian. The youngest Wayne had met with the weapon dealer in secret hoping that his family didn’t catch sight of him. He could only imagine the horror that would come with them finding out.

If it wasn’t for that fact that Marinette looked around Damian’s age, it looked like a drug-dealing going on as Damian was dressed in all black and a hood covering his face. Upon seeing him, Marinette managed to hold in her laughter.

“You want an infinity purse, should I even ask why?”

“It’s better for you not to know.”

Marinette accepts that answer and disappears into the fog. She comes out with a tote with Robin’s emblem in addition to her own. She hands the bag over to the Wayne and explains the limitations the bag carries.

It is said that Damian has pulled various weapons on different people when they make fun of the bag. Some make it out without a scratch while others don’t even speak of the incident anymore.

The most shocking of appearances came from Bruce Wayne, himself. He had come alone to meet with Marinette. At first, she thought it was a gift for the girls or a really bad joke with some hidden scheme behind it. Once she thought of it, it wasn’t a bad idea.

“Are you sure? This could ruin your bad boy aesthetic.” Marinette says giving the tall man an out.

“Yes.” Short and simple. Marinette nods and disappears into the fog.

When she returns, in her hands is a solid black tiara along with it are diamonds in the shape of bats. Sliding it across the table Marinette begins to discuss the weapon. The tiara can turn into a shield with a twist of a diamond. Bruce graciously accepts the weapon before testing it out. Upon seeing it in its shield form, Bruce begins to wonder what age the dealer is and how can he get her to join the family officially.

After everyone in the bat family received weapons that aren’t usual apart of their list of gadgets the league members begin to question their sanity. They thought Bruce was joking when they saw him with the tiara, but once it dawned on them that he never jokes, it was Flash that went around screaming his head off.

“You can rule the world, Pixie,” Jason says joining the small female in the darkness as she watches the bad guys being taken down by her own weapons.

“Eh, we knew this day would come.” She says with a smile on her face.

“Damn, Pixie, you know B-man is already in the process of trying to adopt you. You fit all the Wayne requirements to being adopted.”

“I think he already has. He’s been visiting more and more often with Steph under the pretense of getting new weapons. Damian also comes and goes as he pleases, he’s like a cat.” Marinette says glancing at the second oldest Wayne.

“Welcome to the family, sis."

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc crossover #ml crossover #no ships

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