Among us Simon from LOTF?!?!?

He has a little goat ^_^

Starlight, Starbright

●☆ A the story of a goddess☆●

PROLOGUE

"I’m not trapped in a tower, hidden away so I can be protected from the world. I'm in this tower so the world can be protected from me.”- unknown

Feel free to give me pointers!

I look out the window, a particularly troubled expression on my face. Years. It's been years since I've been outside, since I've seen my people. I’ve tried everything. Using my dresses as rope from a window four stories up, sneaking out the back gates, even dressing up as one the maids. I long to feel the sun, to feel the rain. Anything to make me feel human.

Though, it's controversial to say anything about humans anymore.

It's been 10 years since it happened. The war that ruined everyone’s life. We won, and yet, it truly feels like we lost. The humans have gone away into hiding, because if they don’t they’ll be killed. We hide away in our towers not because we’re scared of them, but the sheer power we hold as gods scares the moonlights and solarflares. We scare our people.

I’m on my thirteenth diary entry, trying my best not to tear the book and the whole room apart, when I hear footsteps. They’re swift and almost silent, but I hear them. I know who's coming.

"You know better than to be by your window with no blinds.” She says as she enters the room.

“Sorry Mother.” I say as I close the window.

Mother was irritating but at least pleasing to the eye. She wore an elegant, livid colored dress with a perfectly straight and simple crown

“Seriously, what is with you? You only ever leave this room when you’re asked-”

“Forced,” I spat, “I was forced."

“Whatever,”  She yelled, “My point still stands. You are a princess. You should start acting  like it.” She pointed, jabbing my chest

“As you wish, your majesty.” i back up and bow

She turned her head indignantly and left, leaving the door open and me alone. I already knew she meant for me to follow, and I couldn't object to my mother. So I did.  The castle isn’t a place I traverse often.  It's big, elegant, and regal. The walls have paintings all over them, painted by some of the best painters of Etherenesca. The workers of the castle scurry around, with a huge fear of bumping into us ( which I think is no way to live.) There's about three floors, 4 if you count the roof, and each one has a purpose. The 1st floor is completely dedicated to the workers. It has rooms for them, though mother and father never see to it that they’re good rooms, and it's where most of their work is done. It also holds the ballroom and throne room, where mother and father receive guests. The 2nd floor is mostly for the royal family. Mother and father have their chambers on the left wing, I have mine on the right. Their chamber is more dull than mine, using more grayscale colors than the vibrant ones I paint on my walls. The 3rd floor is for activities. Apparently, it was specifically built for me when I was younger, so I would have something to do when I was older. It has a library, a paint studio, a design room for sewing, and a diplomatic office ( though I'm pretty sure that is for my father).  And 4th is the roof. No one is allowed up there anymore.

“Are you even listening, Iridiana?,”  Mother asked, pulling me out of my head yet again, “Seriously Iri, this is why we didnt have more of you, always in your head about something or the other.”

She mumbled something else and started walking up the stairs.

“Jericho!” Mother practically screamed.

My dad appeared from the diplomacy room, clearly upset at being called. He was wearing a similarly colored suit with a big, regal crown. He loved to show off.

“Yes, Gianna?” He basically groaned.

“You were supposed to be in the throne room hours ago, not playing fix it with your council.”

“ I am not playing, Gianna, I am trying to fix the economy you broke!”

Mother rolled her eyes, turned and motioned for us to follow. Although we all knew that we don't really sleep much, all of us looked extra tired at that moment.

The throne room was big. It had three thrones in the middle of the room, my parents' thrones on either side of mine. It was made of pure marble flooring and golden arches on the ceiling. Unusually, the throne room was full of people.

No, not people.

Prisoners.

What was she doing?

I looked around. All of these people..they were human. They wore dirty clothing and were shivering, but not from the cold.  They were in a cage guarded by 5 of the best guards we have. I stopped. I refused to walk forward. I refuse to know what she's trying to do and I refuse to partake in it.

“What are you doing, Iri, ” Mother asked, “ Your throne is that way.”

“Yes, but i'm not going.” I began to back up slowly. I wasn’t going.

“You will go or spend a week in the dungeons.”  She glared, daring me to try her.

As much as I wanted to, I didn't.

I walked forward as the people shivered, fearing for their very lives. I feel powerless. I feel hopeless. I feel…

“Greetings guests and prisoners,” Mother started, interrupting my thoughts yet again, “Today is a joyous day for solar flares, moonlights, and gods alike. Today, we rid the world of these humans, starting with these ones.”

Ihatethisihatethisihatethis

“As you all may now, many years ago, humans were on top. They thought that they could use us. Belittle us. They used us as slaves and categorized us as cargo. But our powers awakened, Beni the god above gods, Blessed us with our gifts. To take over and make them pay for what their kind did.”

This was so wrong. There were children in that cage. They didn't do anything. None of them did.

“Bring the first prisoner”

Tears. I don’t know who started to cry first. Me, or the family of the first prisoner.

He was tall, a little muscular, but looked soft. He was wearing dirty overalls and had dirt all over his body. He hung his head of curly dark hair as his shackles were dragged in front of the queen.

He was tall, a little muscular, but looked soft. He was wearing dirty overalls and had dirt all over his body. He hung his head of curly dark hair as his shackles were dragged in front of the queen.

“Hephorus!” A little girl cried. Presumably, his family. My tears were trying to increase steadily, but I held them back.

I had to do something.

But what?

“So, Hephourus,” Mother started, “Do you answer to the crime? Do you admit what a terrible crime it is to even exist as what you are?”

She aimed her hand at him

Aura projection. She was going to kill him. She was going to kill all of them.

“No!” I said

I jumped in front of him. My own aura caused such a blast of light that everyone was blasted back to the nearest wall.

The throne room was a wreck. The furniture was broken, and the cage melted in the light, all the humans running away because of it. Hephorous, or whatever his name was, was under me and took most of the hit. We were hidden by a wall, and no one could really see us unless they were looking.

“Ow…” I groaned.

Hephorus groaned too, but it sounded like he was in more pain than i was in.

“What did I do…” I whispered.

I slowly stood up, But was careful not to reveal myself.

“Find her! NOW!” Mother screamed, “ And round up the prisoners too!”

I flinched. I would have to find them before her, but first is checking myself and hephorous for major injuries. I looked down.

He was bleeding from his head, but he looked conscious. He was looking at me with hazy eyes. I was bleeding too, but from my arm. It was numb right now, so that’s probably something to be concerned about later.

“Thank…you…”  He said.

I crouched down. He looked in awful shape. I would have to get him somewhere in order to treat those wounds.

“You’re welcome…ah…what was it? Hephorous?”

He tried to nod and grunted at the pain

“Try not to move your head,” I whispered, “You got hit pretty bad. And stay quiet.”

I put up my hands .

“One means yes, two means no. Got it?”

He put up one.

“We have to go somewhere that isn't here to treat your wounds, and I know a place. Do you think you can walk?”

Two.

“Great.” I groaned.  I looked around at my options.

The throne room was empty. No one was in here anymore, and there are plenty of exits from the castle here. Since we're on the first floor, the windows are my first choice.

“We’re going out by the windows. Give me your hand.”

He obliged and I lifted him up. I basically dragged him to the nearest window. I opened it, as it was the size of a giant, walking out into the gardens with him. By now, it was nightfall, so we could travel in darkness.

“Take deep, quiet breaths, okay?”

He did.

We hobbled all the way to the gardener's house (Which was deep in the woods) and locked the door behind ourselves. I was sure I was gonna be killed the next time Mother sees me.

“Listen.. I’m gonna treat your wounds, and I'll keep you in here. Nobody ever goes in here  cause we haven’t had an official gardener in forever.”

I put him on the bed and found a towel to wet.  I wiped the blood and put the towel in a bucket.

“Name…” He whispered

“Hm?” I said

“Your…Name…” He asked again.

“Iridiana Camille Saint-Fleur.”  I say, Now treating my own wound before I could start feeling it again.

“Iri..” He whispered. And then fell fast asleep.

I pulled up the blankets on him and began contemplating the big question.

What in Beni's name was that?

Only the cosmic gods had any kind of power that big. My mother wasn’t a cosmic god, and neither was my father. And if I had powers that strong… what did this mean?

I didn’t know what else to do except sleep. So that's what i did

I wake up sweating, almost jolting out of my bed. I had a nightmare, but what I saw when I woke up wasn’t nightmarish at all.

“Good..Morning?” I say, confused as to what hephorus was doing.

“Mornin’.” He said.

He was making breakfast. That much I gathered, but what I couldn't say.

“Look,you can stay here, but I can't, otherwise they’ll find you. My mom has a funny way of tracking me sometimes. She can see a general idea but never the exact point, so it's never safe for others if I stay for long.”

He nodded slowly, trying not to irritate his head wound. I start to head out.

“Oh, Hephorous?” He looked up slowly, “For what it's worth, I will not reign like my mother.”

He offered me a small smile, and I headed out, locking the door behind me.

Time to face my mother.

“How could you do such a thing!” Mother screamed, “How could you let them escape! How could you *help them*?!”

“I’m sorry, mother.” I lied

“ Yes. You will be.” She yelled as she snapped her fingers, and I was transported to my tower.

My tower is the place I go when I do something bad in my mother or fathers eyes. It's an empty place. With nothing but a bed, I sit here for weeks on end sometimes. I hated my tower.

I screamed when she first put me in here. I screamed, yelled, and kicked. I soon realized no one could hear me. That this place was so far from people. I remember that moment like it was yesterday.

I was about ten, playing in the kitchens, when I spilled flour on myself. I thought my dress was so pretty. I cried about it. And when I wouldn't stop crying, Mother snapped her fingers, and here I was. I cried for hours until, eventually, I just collapsed on the bed and slept until one day I woke in my bed, and my mother acted like nothing happened.

I am so tired of her. I'm so tired of this. I just sat and wept.

You asked for reqs so here I am, I love your writings :0. Could you possible do some cute sfw headcanons on what Xiao and the readers relationship if the reader is an immortal and has lived as long as Xiao? Things like random reminiscing of battles of old and the love you have for the people of Liyue? Things about how you get Xiao out his shell through the millennia, stuff like that?

The saddest part I didn't put here is during wars Xiao had to eat snow to live otherwise he could have starved and died 😔

I was so drowned in thoughts I don't even know what I have written in this anymore.

Note: Gender-neutral reader, after the "read more" are the extra ideas I had on my mind of Xiao and his s/o in the past and how their relationship started, I'm not sure to call them "cute", and there is mention of blood (literally just once and it's not that much), and they're pretty long so... yea.

-> Navigation

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Despite how much Xiao changed, his love for you remains there.

He spends less and less time for you to defend Liyue, but he always makes it up to you when he comes back.

How long has it been... It doesn't matter, he can never get tired of your affections.

He feels... safe, when he's with you, the karmic debt built from his past feels like no more and he wants this moment to last forever.

Speaking of affections, he enjoys your physical touches they mean so much to him.

He likes to kiss one of your hands, because it was where he first touched you when you two first met.

Xiao is not a "people person" anymore, but he won't ever deny if you ask him to take a stroll with you in Liyue Harbor, sometimes even indulge in mortal activities such as festivals, helping people in the city, ect. because the smile on your face then is brighter than the sun itself he just wants to keep you happy.

When you're happy, he is too, so don't worry about him minding or feeling annoyed.

He always tries to act tough and mean to people to keep them away, and you're clueless why he sometimes acts annoyed to you too (dw he doesn't mean it)

"After these many years, you still like to waste your time for these childish games?"

"It's okay to have some fun right? It's not like you didn't enjoy playing in younger times!"

...yes it is indeed okay, he only denies it to keep his cool.

Of course he is ready to spend hours catching crystalflies, making Qingxin flower crowns, collecting seashells with you.

Still, he is surprised that you like childish things, and when you joke him using stuffed animals... he could burst of happiness.

Basically he loves it when you ask him to do something you clearly can do it yourself.

It makes him feel like a guardian, your proud guardian jdjdjskn

Can you ask him to do your eyeliner more often? 👉👈

I think he definitely likes cats, but when you compare him to one, like how they are cute and grumpy like each other lol, and how it reminds you of him, he will be jealous of that cat for real and see it as his rival.

"Ah are you jealous Xiao~?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Did I stutter?"

"Alright mr. Jealous, I've known you long enough that you don't even stutter anymore when you lie."

"Hmph..."

Stop petting and hugging that cat, go pet and hug Xiao instead.

Maybe he is so used to being with you for so long and that makes him easily miss you after you or him leave for even just one second.

Xiao's been with you for so long and you are still you, while all that changed is him, he is grateful that you're still you and you love him.

Under the cut is something long I explained in the beginning.

It all began around more than two thousands years ago when Alatus instinctively saved you from danger without even knowing who you were.

He didn't give you a chance to say thank, just smiled at you, telling you to be careful next time and dashed away.

And... it happened again, but this time you managed to make him stay to get to know him better, one of the importants were both of you had been alone on your own.

"No it's not like I'm lonely... N-no, I really am! I mean- can I go with you? It's more than I want to make it up for the times you've saved me but... please?"

Since then, you were always by his side.

It wasn't like you couldn't fight- but your strength was nothing compared to his, so he mostly did everything- Sometimes you wonder if you were in his way or annoying to him, and his answer was honest that he didn't mind at all.

And when an evil god had gotten a hold of his weakness, you couldn't do anything to it and let them take him away.

It wasn't the end tho, whenever possible he still snuck out to see you.

He was forced to do many terrible things by that god's orders. It completed changed his usual gentle and innocent self to a killing machine, but when he was with you, he was still as soft as ever.

When his day ended, he sought comfort from you...

You were always so kind to him, he loved your companies and soon he realized he loved you.

The very few times you had seen him cry was when he returned to you, body covered in blood and a hand covering his mouth as if he had devoured someone's dreamー he really had. But hundred years passed and he didn't cry anymore, but he still had a heart.

Maybe, just maybe before meeting Rex Lapis, no one had ever cared about him the way you had, and he just wanted to be with you forever.

But there was one thing that you could never do, that was to free him. And when Rex Lapis had the power to do that... just looking at that look on Alatus' face was enough for you to assume he surely wouldn't need you anymore, he could live a better life from then on.

But even if you ran away, he still found his way back to you. Didn't I say he wanted to be with you forever?

Though you were in front of him you still couldn't imagine how happy he was when you said you wanted that too.

homestretch of the hard times | g.t.

summary: the eve days of your potential death kinda spurns things to move forward: for takemura, it means confessions. for you, it means making exceptions. and drinks. ‘cause takemura’s the pickiest fucking eater you’ve ever met.

WARNINGS: small spoilers for act 1 of cyberpunk 2077 and references to non-spoiler texts between takemura and v, just fluff, small angst, swearing, idk what else is going on so if there are actual spoilers thats completely coincedental ndlnskfsldnf pairing: goro takemura x fem!street-kid!v word count: 2.6k

a/n: so cdpr did us dirty for not allowing us to romance him (to my knowledge) but he has my mind, heart and everything else so :) listened to the bones by maren morris w/ hozier

part of the tales of a two-bit thief series

It starts with something straight out of a romance movie: A car crash, saving each other’s lives (well, him more than you) and “Wait, V, I need you.”

You don’t know how you got here, to be precise. There were a chain of events, some absolutely stand up fucking moments on your part, and just… fuckery. So much fuckery and life went to shit.

All you know is the ticking time bomb’s only ticking louder and at this point, the only thing that can silence it at all is the man beside you. Not even the meds Misty gave you can help you now. 

You’re sitting in his car because you called him and he had answered and now… now they’re on one of the off ramps looking over Night City like they own the fucking place.

Maybe you did, once. Ha, maybe back when everything seemed more job to job and not life to life. For a moment, maybe you were in the big leagues.

Takemura doesn’t say anything, even though you can tell he wants to. His hair still pulled into that man bun, collared shirt with not a single wrinkle in sight. Weird how he never looks out of place, not really. Not even with the car crash. Shit, he always looked good.

You think you’re actually gonna miss that. That one semblance of someone being put together that gave you the hope that maybe you could stick it too.

You think you’re gonna miss a lot of things about him—from his stupid complaints about the food here, to his stupid random philosophy texts in the day, to the fact that he eats the ramen you buy anyway without complaint, even though it’ll never compare to what he has in Japan.

The thought that counts.

They don’t even have the radio on, just the dim lights of the car, a window rolled down. You don’t smoke but you feel like you should be tapping a cig either way. You haven’t had the time to just fucking breathe—not with Silverhand breathing down your neck, corpo rats swarming you on all sides. 

Everyone wants a piece of you, it feels like. 

You look at Takemura.

Almost everyone.

“Thank you,” you tell him quietly, with difficulty. It’s hard to get through your words without thinking Silverhand’s behind your back, mocking you. You’re so fucking tired. “It hasn’t been easy.”

He doesn’t respond. He’s too busy looking at one of the cars nearly collide with a pedestrian. You could’ve laughed. You used to make fun of the shitty drivers in Night City, knowing full well you’re one of them.

You get chased by a couple of cops, rules start to bend.

You used to wonder why you never left.

Then, you actually left, and you realized that hell, you can take the person out of Night City—can’t take the Night City out of a person.

Atlanta fucking sucked, but maybe you should’ve stayed there.

But then, a tiny voice whispers as you look out the window to the fresh night wind. You never would’ve met him.

It’s funny, you think. To come back and get a brain tumour in the shape of a rocker who can’t fucking touch anyone who loves him, who he loved, only for you to fall in love with a corpo you can’t fucking touch at all because… because there is no time left. It just isn’t fair.

“I used to be a corpo kid,” you confess, looking at him with a wry smile again. That catches his attention. He looks at you with those eyes that scrutinize you, interrogate you, peel you apart to your bare essentials and you have to look away before you can’t control your face anymore. God fucking damn it. “Not when it mattered, obviously, but… I remember what it was like. Grew up hating every single on of them.”

“Your parents were Arasaka?”

“Mhm. Security division.” It’s like your eyes are magnetic to his because when you blink, you find yourself regarding him again. Your fingers play at your lips. “Counterintelligence. I was supposed to go into that, too. Big dreams.” 

“I see.”

“Yeah, then my parents were tried for treason and murdered, so I got thrown out. That’s it.” Your hand falls away. You pick at the chipped nail polish on your thumb. “Never told anyone that. ‘Cept…” Jackie. Well, he’s fucking dead, now. “‘Cept you, now, I guess. Guess some corpos aren’t so bad.”

The corner of his mouth pinches up like he’s flattered and you can’t help the pleased warmth spreading through your chest. 

“Should I be honoured I am one of the few exceptions you have made?”

“Well, I don’t make exceptions often, so…” You grin slyly. He looks away just as you catch a flash of his smile growing. It’s a nice smile. You wish you saw it more often before the end of the road. Maybe it’s one of the regrets you have, too. “Yeah, maybe you should feel special.”

“Hm.”

“C’mon, Takemura. Humour the walking dead, yeah?” You stretch against the leather of his car seat with a pleased sound. “I’m spending what time I have left with who I want to. Can’t ask for much better than that.” A quiet hangs in the air as you melt against the black leather and you look at Takemura who’s staring at the wheel with an intensity you don’t often see. It makes your gut squirm. 

“And I? I am one of those people?”

You lean on one hip and look at him, bending a knee and resting an ankle on your thigh. He looks at you with an uncertainty—an uncertainty you’re sure echoes in your eyes.

It was business, then it wasn’t. Maybe it never was.

“Yeah. You’re one of the few on the short list.”

“Exceptions again.”

You laugh. “Yeah. You’re an exception to most things, I think. Weird, that.”

“How so?”

“Ah, I don’t know. I’ve had family—still do, ones that matter, you know. Just… no one ever like you, Takemura. Drives me crazy.”

“The feeling is mutual. Your mocking brings you onto thin ice, V.” His fingers tap against the steering wheel. The engine’s off so it seems more fidgety than anything. Weird. You never noticed he fidgeted before. Maybe he’s nervous?

About what?

“I must ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“If you have a future, what do you see for yourself?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. You frown and pick at your flecking nail polish even more, looking at your hand and focusing more on that so you don’t have to answer your question. His eyes burn into you and you swallow, trying not to act like you haven’t thought, in regret, at night, about a hundred million fucking times the possibilities they could’ve had together.

You’re not about to say all that.

Instead: “Settling down with the family. Mama Welles, people at the Coyote.” You blatantly don’t look at him when you add, “Others. This has been enough action for a lifetime.” You rest your hands on your lap and chance a glimpse at him. He’s looking away from you, out the window on his side, and you shift in your seat. “How about you? You must’ve… had dreams. Before all this shit went down. You make it out of here and then what?”

When he looks at you, your heart nearly cracks at the sadness in his eyes. He smiles, but there is no strength, and his eyes are darker than the night surrounding them.

“I would go to the countryside, just as I’ve always wanted. Leave this, all of this, behind. Rural Japan is beautiful, so a small town would suffice where everyone knows everyone. We do favours for one another. It is community. Nothing like here.” His lips pull into a tiny frown. “When I was a younger man, I wanted a daughter,” is all he says. “I believe I could have been a great father, so perhaps… perhaps one day.”

“A daughter? Not a son?” you ask curiously, and he almost chuckles. You can’t help the faint smile on your face. 

“If my daughter grew up anything like her mother,” he explains with a slight glance towards you, “I would have more hope than a son who was like me.”

You frown.  “You’re not a bad man, Takemura. Any son like you—with your code of honour, your shitty selfie skills—no one’s gotta a chance.”

He merely scoffs in response. Again, with the you mocking him. It’s a wonder he lets you.

“But really, that sounds… nice. A daughter, a wife.” You drum your fingers against your knee and his eyes dart to yours, click like they were always destined to meet, and your lips part. Words stall on your tongue and you want to speak but in the dim lights, you are lost in the darkness of his eyes. Something comes, something goes, and you barely croak out, “Whoever marries you will have to deal with so much of your shit that the kids have to turn out alright. The complaining, for one. Picky eater for another.”

This time, he does chuckle and you swallow a breath at the sound. “Dealing with it comes with practice, V.”

“Is that so?”

“Shouldn’t you know?”

“I—“ For once, no funny retort, no witty quip shoots out of your mouth, and you realize that there is an implication—an intricate dance where they’re struggling not to step on each other’s toes and nearly failing at every turn, yet somehow, it works because they’re dancing, and it’s quiet, and it’s… it’s peaceful.

Shit, you’re getting a load of this. When’d you become a poet?

“I guess I should know,” you finally say. “Never understood why I got so giddy whenever I saw your texts, you know, seein’ your name flash on my phone.” You laugh bitterly. “Guess I know why, now.” He’s silent and you don’t look at him. You look at the dashboard where you’ve kicked your feet up a dozen times, the glove compartment that still has your sunglasses inside.

Shit.

“Thank you for everything. Shit’s a little… more bearable, I guess. When you’re around, that is.” The words come out stilted, awkward, but your heart is so heavy in your throat you feel like you’re going to choke. You look into your lap, your whole body incinerating under what you’re sure is the most judgemental glare of your life and you just hope to fucking God this man says something, does something.

Holy shit. You’re going to die of embarrassment. Didn’t even think that was possible.

Then, a loud sigh. A sigh you’ve heard often enough beside you right before a gunfight or when he has to eat the food you ordered for him or even the nights when they’re exhausted, bruised, and just plain tired right before going to sleep where they lay on the floor.

It’s exasperated, a how on earth did we get here, a very annoyed again, you’re so fucking stupid, and you’re still running through your list on what this particular sigh can mean before a hand gently takes hold of yours. Your eyes dart to his, blinking and he stares at you like you’ve just stabbed him. Your heart is fucking racing in your chest, pounding like thunder. His fingers fold over and you realize, as you interlace fingers, that his skin is burning at your touch. 

Or maybe, it’s the other way around.

They sit there in silence, not looking at one another, looking out windows, parts of the car, everything but each other, and when he squeezes your hand, you close your eyes and swallow your heart.

It’s over.

“V,” he murmurs, voice so deathly quiet and raspy in your ears that your gut clenches. You turn to watch him. “Tell me that you will not stop fighting.” You swallow your breath as his eyes flicker from your own to your parted lips. He inhales quietly and you swear you can feel his heartbeat pulsing in his fingers in your grip. “That this is not all for nothing.”

“It isn’t.“

“Then I was right.” His eyes flutter back to your gaze and he tilts his head. Wisps of fine hair escaping his manbun brush over his nose and you reach up on your own accord, swiping it behind your ear. You lean over the console, your elbow digging into the leather and, tentatively, you trail your fingers down his jaw, hold his face in your hand. “I am… what is that phrase you use so often?”

“SNAFU?”

“No.”

“Assblasted.”

“No.”

“Royally fucked?”

“We need to expand your vocabulary.” You smile nefariously as his other hand reaches for your chin. He pinches it lightly, thumb stretching up to brush over your lips and your face freezes at his touch. “But yes. Royally fucked. I wasn’t wrong when I said I needed you.”

“I think that meant a whole something else back then,” you whisper rawly and he smiles sombrely. His thumb leaves your mouth to brush your cheek, his eyes fixing on you as if he’s trying to memorize aspects of your face: the arch of your nose, the bow of your smile, the way your brow wrinkles. “Meant more business-like.”

“I did. And now, I believe the terms have changed.” He arches an eyebrow. “Are we at a mutual understanding, V?”

“Yes.” And I hate that we are. Your hand along his jaw lifts to wrap around his wrist. “Consider that feeling mutual, yeah? It goes both ways.”

“I will.” Another small smile graces his lips. It makes him look younger every time and you rub your thumb over the back of his hand. 

“Do you wanna grab something to eat before you drive me back home for some shuteye?”

“The choices here are atrocious, V.”

“Then, drinks,” you propose, letting go of his wrist. He lets go of your chin, and turning to face the front, you kick up your feet on his dash. He stares at you for a moment then sighs because there really isn’t anything he can do about it. Nor, do you think, he wants to. You squeeze his hand and send him a silly smile. “How about drinks? I wasn’t hungry anyway.”

“Are you paying?”

You eye him incredulously. “Who do you take me for? You?”

He snorts and the engine roars to life with a flick of his wrist. He grabs the wheel dominantly and you swallow at the way his fingers wrap around the handle. “The Afterlife, then?”

“Or, we could make it rustic.” You pull his hand into your lap playfully and run a thumb over his knuckles. His eyes flit over and you send him a smirk. “I know Mama Welles doesn’t like you, but the Coyote’s serving cheap. Happen to like me there.” He begins to pull out of their little overhang and he nudges their joined hands into your abdomen, silently telling you to buckle in. Rolling your eyes, you mumble out a ‘boomer’ underneath your breath before letting go of him and following orders.

He settles a hand on your thigh and squeezes. You hang an arm out the window. 

The wind’s running through the car, he has the radio on low, and they’re easing through onto the highway.

Your chest is lighter than a feather, mind’s quieter than a ghost.

You’ve seen scarier deaths, dealt a lot more. You know that silence is a bigger killer than most bullets.

But here you are now…

“I’m changing this,” Takemura says. “This music is terrible.”

…Shit, maybe life isn’t so bad, ending the way it is.

*whispers* I would like to hear what you have to say on reader inserts in the SW fandom because I too have a problem with them and I feel like not enough people are calling it out 👉👈

I’ve made a few posts about it in the past but I think it’s high time I actually Do This and really get into it.

Before I start: 1) This will be in specific reference to fanfiction written for the Star Wars fandom, particularly tcw and the mandalorian eras, 2) A lot of the issues come down to racist fetishization of men of color by white women; I am white, so there is much that is simply not my place to make statements on. What I can speak most on is my take from the gender side of things.

I’d honestly recommend reading this post by @nibeul with addition by @clonehub first, as they discuss the core issue with reader inserts in the Star Wars fandom.

And 3) some of this will involve discussion of sexual acts (as they relate to fanfiction) and sexual fantasies. These discussions will be non-explicit, and no pornographic text or content will be displayed.

Also. I’m GNC and nonbinary. I’m also a very feminine looking person that falls under the generalization of “small and petite.” I don’t have dysphoria, I like my body and the traits I have, and treating them like inherently female sends me into a blind fury. This is, unfortunately, important.

For the sake of making sure I come across as clearly as possible, I will be writing as though the reader of this post has never read or is broadly unfamiliar with reader-insert fanfiction.

Without further ado.

Hey, Star Wars reader insert fic writers? Please get your shit together.

INTRODUCTION

I’ve been reading reader-insert fanfiction since I was a grade schooler waking up early to check Quizilla. I love it! It got me into fandom, kept me engaged, helped me make and develop some of my oldest OCs, and it’s just fun to read and write- it’s like a self-indulgent little gift you can give to a bunch of people all at once. Because who doesn’t like the idea of starring in their own little adventure, usually alongside some of their favorite characters? It can be fun, immersive, get you attached in ways other ways of fandom interaction may not, make you feel just a little bit special, or be a way to express some feelings you might have about canon and the way the story went.

Like any form of fiction, it ends up saying more about the author’s feelings than anything else, whether the author realizes it or not. For many, many authors of reader-insert fanfiction, the primary enjoyment comes from writing “themselves” into the story- before the readers, the author most often makes the “reader character” someone they, themselves, can relate to and substitute for themselves. They write to live out a self-indulgent fantasy they have, and their readers can come along for the ride.

Some writers do actually try to write as diverse or as vague of a reader character as possible- as few details about the body, identity, etc. as possible so anyone could superimpose their image without the narrative directly contradicting it. This is not the kind of reader insert author I will be discussing.

The kind of author I will be discussing is the one most common in the Star Wars tag on Ao3: White, AFAB, cisgender, gender-conforming, able-bodied women who assume all of their readers are also White, AFAB, cisgender, gender-conforming, able-bodied women. Yes, you can tell.

ISSUE: fetishization of men of color

Again, this post puts it in the best words, but there is a rampant problem with Star Wars reader-inserts, particularly those involving the clones, Boba Fett, and Din Djarin, fetishizing characters played by men of color as either “physically aggressive and threatening, hypersexual and dominant, big strong men who are scary because they do violence and fuck constantly when they’re not” or “completely inexperienced baby who doesn’t know anything about things and needs a gentle nurturing guiding touch to introduce him to the mere idea of a vagina.” The former is common across all of them, the latter most common among clone trooper fics or Din/Reader.

I went into the Boba Fett/Reader tag on Ao3, because I like him and hoped to find something alright. Here are some stats I tallied up (give or take some) based solely on tags, summaries, and warnings:

There are 284 works in the Boba Fett/Reader category as of the time of this post.

198/284 are rated E for explicit sexual content. 69.7% of all Boba Fett/Reader works are sexually explicit.

259/284 are in the F/M category. 91.2% of all Boba Fett/Reader works involve an explicitly female or AFAB reader.

24/284 are tagged with or mention “Age difference,” “Older man/Younger woman,” “Innocence kink” or “Virginity kink.” 8.4% of all Boba Fett/Reader works are written explicitly with an age gap, with Boba Fett as the older party

26/198 E rated fics are tagged with or make reference to “Daddy kink” or involve the reader being called some variation of “little girl” by Boba. 13% of all E-rated works under Boba Fett/Reader are daddy kink fics, or allude to Boba Fett being a daddy dom/sugar daddy.

102/198 E rated fics are tagged as, make reference to, or suggest in the summary that Boba Fett takes a dominant sexual role with a submissive reader involving rough or painful play, or make reference to Boba Fett being frightening, physically intimidating, having a power dynamic over the reader, or being possessive or violent. 51.51% of all E-rated works under Boba Fett/Reader portray Boba Fett as sexually dominant and/or enacting use of physical force or pain play.

Just using this as an example, because it’s the easiest stats I can gather and also what made me realize there was a pattern.

The problem isn’t even necessarily that people write explicit fic about Boba- it’s that 1) over half of all fics in the category are explicitly pornographic, and 2) the way those pornographic fics are written. The two things compound on each other. They’re dominance fantasies projected onto a character of color in which he becomes extremely sexual, physically rough with the reader, possessive, and demeaning towards a reader character who is always written as White, AFAB, and petite.

This brings me to the next issue.

ISSUE: The way sexual relationships are portrayed.

Let me clarify so there is no chance of me being misunderstood: sex is good. Liking and wanting and enjoying sex isn’t bad. It is not bad if you are AFAB and have submissive fantasies. It is not bad to be sexually attracted to a man of color. You can write about sex even if you haven’t had it. Writing about sex can be a good way to express some more complicated feelings you could have about certain things. It doesn’t even have to be realistic. It has its time and it has its place.

This being said.

Sexual relationships as they are portrayed in the vast majority of E-rated Star Wars reader inserts are… not great.

The reader is always AFAB. I can think of maybe one fic off the top of my head where an AFAB reader was written with they/them pronouns and not just she/her.

The reader is almost always submissive, the dominant character is almost always portrayed as cis male. Even when the characters are supposed to just be having spontaneous casual sex, D/S or BDSM aspects will be introduced with no prior discussion or talks about it afterwards. Sometimes characters will start using dirty talk and it just does not fit at all, but it’s what the author thought was hot.

Sometimes, it just reads like a quick smutty oneshot. More often than that, it reads like the author doesn’t realize that sex… isn’t always a dom/sub thing. Or that someone can take the lead in sex and that doesn’t automatically make them a dom.

It’s not bad to be inexperienced. It’s not bad to have preferences or kinks or specific turn-ons.

But it gets… tiring to read, over and over and over and over, because that’s all there is.

That and… I dunno, it just has me a little worried? It doesn’t make me feel good knowing so many people can only portray a sexual relationship if it’s dom/sub. I don’t know why it makes me so uneasy.

Vanilla sex isn’t a bad thing I promise. It's this feeling of insistence that something "spicy" absolutely has to happen for it to be worth writing that gives... some weird vibes.

I’m going to move on to the next Big-

ISSUE: Every “reader” character is exactly the same

By which I mean the following:

Always cis AFAB female

If a character is written with gender neutral pronouns they will always be AFAB and written like Girl Lite

I have never seen an explicitly stated nonbinary/gnc reader character unless it was a request specifically for a nonbinary reader

I have never seen a gender neutral reader insert fic where the reader was AMAB

I have seen a grand total of 1 cis male reader fic and 1 trans male reader fic. The trans male reader fic was about dysphoria.

The reader is allowed to have one of the following backstories: slave/runaway, mechanic, medic, ex-Rebel, secret Jedi, bounty hunter.

The reader is allowed to have one of the following personality traits: throws knives, babysitter, completely civilian, WOMAN, says curse words.

The reader is never written with any narrative agency- things only ever happen to the reader character or around the reader character, they are never written to take charge and actually affect things on their own. Essentially the sexy lamp trope.

Remember when I said the majority of people writing Star Wars reader-insert fanfic on Ao3 were White, cisgender AFAB women who are gender-conforming and able-bodied? This is how you can tell.

It’s at this point where you can tell they’re really not meant to be reader-inserts, but author-inserts with the names removed- they were only meant for a very narrow selection of readers.

I’m nonbinary, I’m gnc, and I’m a very feminine looking person, generally speaking. I’m used to people looking at me and assuming oh, girl. I’m at peace with that.

I can barely stand reading some of these fics just because of how much the author emphasizes that the reader is FEMALE shes a WOMAN with BOOBS and a VAGINA and FEMININE WILES. There’s barely ever even a chance to give myself room to mentally vault over all the “she”s and “her”s because then I’m getting hit with Din or someone calling the reader “girl” or “the woman.” It’s unbearable, and I even fall into the general description every fucking fic author uses for their generic protagonist!

Even with the “gender-neutral reader” fics, it is just. Painfully clear that they just wrote a female character and changed the pronouns- no, there is no such thing as “male behavior” or “female behavior,” and I quite heartily rebel against the concept of gender essentialism. And honestly, I can barely even begin piecing together how I know it and what it feels like, because it’s just one of those vague conglomerates of cues and writing patterns I can’t consciously pick up on but I know it’s there- it’s frustrating, it’s demeaning, and it feels like you’d have to threaten these authors at gunpoint to get them to write a reader character who was any major deviation from the same three cutouts they use every time.

It seems like they can’t possibly force themselves to write a reader character who isn’t meek and submissive or has the sole personality traits of “mean and can hit things”- you can actually strike a balance between “absolutely no personality” and “fleshed out oc” you know? And you don’t actually have to tell the reader what their hair looks like or how full their figure is

It’s like 2:20 AM and I started this at like 8something PM but.

I’m someone who loves reader-inserts. I enjoy them. I still check for new ones regularly. I’ve been reading them for well over half my life now.

So many of these authors are just locked in on exactly one way to write things and it fucking shows. It’s like a self-feeding loop, they just keep writing the same things and the same dynamics because they see each other doing it and they never think about taking a step back.

It’s… exhausting. I’m exhausted. If you’re a reader-insert fic writer and you want to improve your reader character inclusivity and have also read this far, you can DM me or shoot me an ask.

The Feeling Of Family- A MCYT Agere/CGLRE fic (Regressors!SBI+Tubbo and Ranboo, Carer!Philza)

There was a very specific feeling that came to Ranboo when he met up with his internet friends. A weirdly comforting feeling, a reassurance that he had finally found his people.

It came to him with every hug from Tubbo, every teasing ruffle of his hair from Techno, every inappropriate joke he shared with Tommy. It clouded his mind every time he regressed with them, too, he didn't quite know how to describe it. But if he had to put a name to this odd emotion, he'd call it 'the feeling of family'.

A/N: get ready for a looooong ride. This was written over the course of two days, I really hope you guys like it! I haven't dropped a fic thats over 4000 words in a bit, I think. This is inspired loosely by Cypherr's (on ao3!!) fic 'four's a family', that's where I got the idea of Phil just being overwhelmed because there's so many babies to deal w/, so I'm crediting them! Though, this fic is much different then their's, but also please go read their fics they're great- anyways, I hope you enjoy! This fic is kinda (?) in Ranboo's pov (third person but like,,,you see his thoughts), but there's so much going on that it kinda feels like it's jumping around? Sorry for that, I'm used to writing w/a 2 littles max per caregiver ratio, so this was different. I've also never written Phil as a caregiver before besides his brief appearance over in my 'Mister Nook' series. okay I'm done rambling,,,enjoy the fic please!

--

There was a very specific feeling that came to him when he met up with his friends. A weirdly comforting feeling, a reassurance that he had finally found his people.

In an internet dad, a fellow faceless streamer who used a pig as his icon, a song writer, a bee-loving teenager, and another who was known for wearing red and white. He felt just a bit out of place in this dynamic, SBI were the ones that were close. SBI plus Tubbo wasn't an odd pairing either, and it almost seemed as if Ranboo was only there because Tubbo was.

But that doubt seemed to wash away with the welcoming energy that the car ride to Phil and Kristin's home was filled to the very brim with. Tommy and Wilbur arguing like brothers while Ranboo and Tubbo joked about. The half-joking stern look that Phil gave him through the rear view mirror when he made an inappropriate joke. The soft feeling that Techno teasingly ruffling his hair left in his chest.

This group felt like family.

Of course, he had a perfectly good set of parents back home, but this was different. In a good way, though. This home wasn't his, it was Phil's, but he was surprisingly comfortable here. He was comfortable with his close friends.

"Breakfast is ready!"

He jolted awake with a slight shock when he heard knocking and shouting outside of the door of the room he was staying in, the noise startling him from his sleep. He rubbed at his eyes and stretched his arms above his head as the sleepiness started fading from his mind, clocking the voice as Tommy's as he processed his surroundings. It was his second day at the Philza Minecraft's, the first being made up of mostly content creation.

They had all been shown to their respective guest rooms late last night after quite a few movies and a half-asleep conversation full of laughing and heartfelt emotions. Today was supposed to be a chill day, and the next they'd be exploring the area just around Phil and Kristen's home. It was Ranboo's second time in the UK, and just like last time, he wanted to explore and get a feel for the place he'd be temporarily living in.

He fished some clothes out of his suitcase, pulling them on and discarding his pajamas in a white laundry hamper he had been given for that exact purpose. Then, he sat on the bed, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it. He chuckled as he saw a picture of their entire group with a fan they had run into the day prior, just after he was picked up from the airport, remembering how many similar ones had been taken during his last meet up.

He thought back to the months he spent at Tubbo's house just a while ago, it was one of the funnest parts of his life if he was honest, and now he was right back in the UK for another long meet up. This one was supposed to be a month, at least. SBI and the Bee Duo all under one roof for an entire month! Twitter had freaked out completely when they heard of this arrangement.

During his last trip to the UK, he found out something interesting after revealing something about himself to Tubbo. He admitted to his habit of age regressing to his friend during a late night conversation, only to be met with a 'me too' and then being asked if he wanted to call some friends. This response had confused him, but he said agreed, figuring that there had to be some logic to this.

And after an hour long conversation with Techno, Tommy, Wilbur, and Phil, he learned about an ongoing secret dynamic between the group. Tommy, Tubbo, Phil, and Wilbur were all also regressors. This was a lot of information to process at around 6 am during an all-nighter, but he was glad to know he wasn't alone.

Almost immediately after finding out about his headspace, Phil insisted on taking care of him, messaging him more often and helping him regress over video calls. And over the process of a few weeks, Ranboo had been officially added to the group of littles Phil cared for regularly.

The man took the time to learn his headspace range, things that upset him, how to deal with him when he did misbehave (though the occasion was rare, especially compared to someone like Little Tommy), all in the name of making sure he was cared for. It was sweet, really, and sometimes the boy felt bad for all the man did for him.

He pushed these thoughts away as he heard his name called by his father figure from the kitchen. He groaned, exiting off of Twitter and making his way out of the room and down the hallway, through the living room and into the kitchen. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he mumbled, still tired. He took his seat between Tommy and Tubbo after entering the kitchen/dining area and was quite overwhelmed with the amount of greetings and 'good morning!'s' he got all at once.

"How'd you sleep, hun?" he smiled when he heard Kristin's voice, humming a bit, settling on responding to her instead of facing the rest of the ongoing chaos in the kitchen.

"Pretty good, I think. Still waking up, though," he admitted. He watched the woman bring a plate over to him, setting a stack of pancakes in front of him. "Thank you."

Before she got the chance to respond, Tommy was shouting all to loud for how early it was in the morning. He sounded whiny, too. "Why does he get his first? I was awake before him," he complained, earning a response from Wilbur as he entered the room, his obviously messy hair temporarily contained by a beanie.

"Maybe because he's not throwing a fit over everything like you are," He made his way over to the table as Phil shot the both of them a look. Ranboo minded his own business, digging into his food, he knew that he wasn't in trouble. The brown haired man sat next to Tommy, leaning back in his seat casually.

"Will, be nicer to your brother. And Tommy, be patient, or else both of you will be put in timeout the moment we finish eating." he threatened, half joking.

"What?" Tommy said, sounding shocked as his eyes went wide.

"I second that, none of us are little!" Tubbo finally spoke up after laughing at the situation the whole time.

"Tom-tom here is sure acting like a baby, though," Wilbur teased, sitting back up to ruffle the blond's hair, continuing even when the younger whined and attempted to shove his hand away. He only retracted it when Phil gave him another stern look.

"Stop teasing him and eat your food," he told him as Kristin brought over plates for Tommy and Wilbur. "Where's Techno?" Phil seemed like he wanted to continue talking to Wilbur, but was distracted when he noticed that someone was missing. Wilbur smirked, sticking his tongue out to Tommy, as if bragging about being let off the hook.

Even Ranboo could admit, even out of headspace, everyone seemed to fill their roles in the family dynamic well. Wilbur was the cocky middle brother who somehow simultaneously gets in the most trouble and gets away with everything, Techno is the oldest who's mostly calm but will join in on the antics when it seems fun, and Tommy's the youngest who will play the 'innocent' card at any chance he could get.

Ranboo and Tubbo's exact roles were a bit undecided, but they seemed to consist of a lot of watching the scene play out and somehow getting dragged into an argument they had nothing to do with. Phil acted as their dad, who kept peace between everyone and tried to keep things calm, while Kristen played the role of a sweet mother-type figure.

When they were little, it was a bit different, but the general feeling of family remained the same.

After a few chaotic minutes of gathering everyone up and calming everyone down, they were all sitting around the table and talking in a much more civil manner. Things got loud once again only a few minutes later when Tommy knocked over his cup of orange juice.

"Sorry!" he squeaked, "I didn't mean to!" he defended, looking up at Phil apologetically. He immediately seemed much younger, a light pout on his lips as he apologized for his clumsiness.

"It's alright, Toms." the man assured, flashing a soft smile to let the regressor know that he was alright, reaching for the paper towels across the table. In just a few moments it was like there was never a spill in the first place. "Can you get him a sippy cup, please?" he asked Kristin, who immediately set off to get the requested item.

"I told you he was a baby," Wilbur spoke up next, predictably earning protests from the clearly regressing boy next to him.

"I'm not a baby!" the younger cried, looking to his other  "Techno, tell him I'm not a baby!"

"I mean, only babies need sippy cups," the other man leaned a bit closer the table, his words causing the teenager's eyes to widen.

"Can't Kristin just refill dis one?" he questioned, holding up the cup he had knocked over and looking to Phil hopefully.

"Sorry, buddy, I just don't want you to make another mess." Phil sighed, shooting a disappointed look towards Wilbur and Techno. Ranboo sunk further into his seat, trying to avoid getting pulled into the conflict. He wasn't sure how the others could handle Phil's 'disappointed look' so easily, the boy was very much scared of it.

"I'm not gonna!" Tommy whined, practically glaring at the cup that was set in front of him a moment later. He huffed and crossed his arms, refusing to drink or eat anything.

"This is what happens when you make fun of him, he gets all insecure and stubborn," Tubbo groaned, rolling his eyes as if they had been through this process a million times over.

"Tubbo's right, apologize to him," the oldest man ordered. Wilbur and Techno looked at him as if this suggestion was completely outrageous, so he added, "Now."

"Okay, okay!" Wilbur gave in, sounding defensive, "I'm sorry, Toms. You're not a baby."

"Really?" he lowered his arms, finally uncrossing them.

"No, you're just clumsy and we're sorry for making fun of you for it," Techno sounded very reluctant, but he followed Phil's orders. After these apologies, the rest of breakfast went fairly smoothly. By the end of it, Tommy was very obviously fully regressed and making a useless attempt to hide it.

It was a fairly often occurrence that Tommy slipped just for fun, acting and being treated like a kid was something he just liked. He got to be the annoying little brother and watch cartoons while he did it, it was a win-win across the board.

But Phil and Kristin knew, that whenever one of them slipped over their voice chats, anyone else in the discord call would too. And now, they were all actually together under one roof, so he was sure he'd have five littles to deal with by noon at latest.

--

As predicted, all of the boys ended up in littlespace, slipping one after another like a line of dominoes getting knocked over. After some reassurance from Phil, Tommy allowed himself to slip, and he dragged his best friend into a game of pretend. And the two toddler minded teenagers decided they wanted to play with Techno and Ranboo as well, and Wilbur soon followed when Phil babied him a bit to much.

At first, it was quite loud, and there was a lot of conflict and disagreements between the boys. Eventually, after everyone but Ranboo had managed to get in some sort of trouble, Phil sat the boys down to watch cartoons. Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur were out like a light one episode in. Wilbur was in babyspace, he always needed extra sleep, and Tommy tired himself out by crying when he assumed Phil was upset with him.

Tubbo, however, was just tired. No excuse, that's just how he was sometimes.

Ranboo and Techno were older then the rest of them, and far more behaved, so they didn't get quite as much attention earlier in the day. Phil was quite busy comforting Wilbur and trying to keep Tommy and Tubbo in check, and it didn't help that Kristin had to leave the house. To make up for this, Phil wanted to do something special with them while the other three took their mid-day naps.

After a while of Ranboo and Techno watching cartoons, trying to stay quiet so that their friends could sleep peacefully, Phil spoke up.

"Boys, quietly follow me," he whispered, managing to get out from under from where Wilbur was laying cuddling up to him without waking the boy up. Techno and Ranboo glanced at each other, seemingly confused but intrigued. They scrambled to get up, following their caregiver into the kitchen.

"What are we doin', dada?" Techno questioned once they entered the other room. They had left the cartoons on, so Phil was fairly sure they wouldn't be able to hear what was going on in the kitchen.

"You guys are gonna be my little helpers for snack time, okay? I got some special treats and such for everyone and we need to put everything together before everyone gets up!" the man explained in a quiet but excited tone, speaking even quieter as if his next words were a secret, "And if you guys do a good job, I'll even give you an extra cookie."

Ranboo's face immediately lit up, and he bounced on his feet as he awaited more instructions. Phil specifically chose him and Techno out of all of them, they must be special. It was like a super secret mission, just for them!

"So we're all gonna have fruit and vegetables before we get to the sweets," he continued on, going over the fridge and pulling out various fruits and vegetables, "Techno, could you wash the strawberries and blueberries for me?" he asked.

"Mhm!" he agreed, excited to be able to help. It seem weird that Phil's idea of "something special" was just putting them to work, it was more about the idea of making them feel special. They were more well behaved then everyone else, so they got extra time with Phil and a cookie.  

"What do I get to do?" Ranboo questioned. He watched as Technoblade took the containers with the fruit he was told to wash over to the sink.

"Are you big enough to pour drinks for everyone?" he questioned, pulling various new sippycups and bottles from a hidden spot in one of the cabinets. The two littles gasped, completely distracted from their tasks, "Yes, some of these are for you two." he chuckled at their excitement, coming over to Ranboo and holding out a simple but cute black and white sippy cup.

"I thought maybe you could put stickers on it," Phil explained. The boy nodded quickly, practically attacking him in a hug. "Okay, go on, get to work now." he said, motioning over to the counter where the rest of them sat.

As requested, they got to work. Techno helped wash the fruit and put then on their plates, while Ranboo filled the sippy cups and bottles with whatever drink each one of them liked best. His demise came when he tried to sneak soda into his sippy cup without asking, and he managed to spill it all over the counter.

"Uh oh! Spill on aisle Ranboo!" Phil joked, grabbing the paper towels and running over to help. Immediately, the boy panicked. He was the well behaved one, and Phil was gonna find out that he was trying to be sneaky! His guilt was obviously clear to the caregiver, because the next thing he said was, "Don't worry, accidents happen."

The gentle and reassuring tone he used only made him feel worse. It only took the man a moment to actually realize what the boy had been pouring into the cup. "Ranboooo," the caregiver held out his words, sounding disappointed, "You know that you could've asked for soda if you really wanted it, right? You've been so good all day, I would've given it to you."

"Really?" he asked, pouting when the man took the cup and dumped the liquid in the sink. He then ripped paper towels from the roll and wiped up the remainder of the drink from the counter.

"Yeah, I would've," Phil affirmed, "But trying to sneak around me isn't okay. You told me you were putting juice in here. That's lying, and I know for a fact that you're big enough to know that's not allowed. " he tsked, causing Ranboo to look down at his feet.

"M' sorry," he mumbled, ready to cry over such a small thing. He knew what he was doing was dumb, Phil rarely let them have sweets like that when they were small due to the fact that they got hyper.

"Don't cry, sweetheart, you're not in trouble," the man assured with a sigh, softening his tone immediately, rinsing the cup out as he spoke. Ranboo still felt bad, despite the gentle reassurance. He glanced up to see the man filling his cup with his favorite drink besides the over sugary soda: strawberry lemonade. "Here you go." he tightened the lid onto it and held it out for him.

"Sorry, dada," he apologized again, his eyes still glassy as he took it in his hands. Phil sighed a bit, opening his arms and pulling him close.

"You're okay, buddy, I promise you." he spoke gently, "Little boys make mistakes sometimes, it's alright." The man knew that while Ranboo might've been regressed to an older age, he was still quite sensitive, and he always felt overly bad whenever he got in trouble. Even if he had managed to get away with sneaking the soda, he would've owned up to what he did guiltily after just a few sips of the drink.

That's just how he was.

"M' all done!" Techno's voice interrupted them as he finished placing the snack-filled plates in their spot at the table, besides their respective sippy cups. Phil pulled away from the other regressor and ruffled his hair, smiling at him before addressing the other little.

"Good job, honey. You're such a good helper," he complimented, before looking back to Ranboo. "And so are you." he reminded. Ranboo giggled a bit, feeling happiness well up in his chest at the praise despite any childish guilt. The giggles only increased when his caregiver tapped the button of his nose, causing him to scrunch it up.

Once he was sure that Ranboo was alright, or at least doing a bit better, he gave them their next instructions. One good thing about Ranboo was that it was easy to sway his emotions to the more positive end if it was done before any tears came. "Take your seats and eat, I'm gonna wake up your brothers and have them pick up their toys from earlier, then they'll join you." he told them, before leaving the room.

Technoblade's eyes followed Phil as he exited the room, and he waited until he was sure he was out of earshot to say anything. "Psst, 'anboo," Techno leaned close to the table, grabbing the other boy's attention.

"Wha'?" he questioned, popping a grape in his mouth and tilting his head in curiousity.

"We should scare daddy when he comes back in! It'll be so cool," he suggested, "We can wait by the door and jump out!"

"Hmm...," Ranboo looked over to where the other pointed, considering his options, "We 'posed to be eatin'." he pointed out, shaking his head.

"We won' get in trouble, it's just playin' round," he tried to sound convincing. It seemed to work, because Ranboo reconsidered, before hesitantly nodding. He grabbed one more grape and his sippy cup before standing up, Techno leading him over to the entrance of the room. They were concealed behind the wall on either side of the doorway.

They listened Phil woke the others up and helped them put the toys away, excitement ramping up as they waited. To their shock, Tommy entered first, fully ready to greet him in his usual loud tone. Techno quickly put his finger to his lip, shaking his head to signal him to be quiet. Tommy's eyes widened as he realized what was happening, deciding to duck behind the with his older brother.

It was then that Phil entered, carrying Wilbur. The boys jumped out from their spots, exclaiming different variations of "boo!" and "AHH!", breaking out into giggles immediately after. Wilbur squeaked, the sound startling him a bit, but he didn't seem upset. "Well hello, little ones," Phil chuckled, "If I remember correctly, you boys are supposed to be at the table."

"Jus' wanted to scare you! We go eat now," Techno assured, taking Tommy's wrist in his hand and pulling him over to the table. Ranboo however, peeked behind Phil to see if Tubbo was coming.

"Where Tubs at?" he pulled on Phil's shirt before he could walk away, whining a bit.

"He had a bit of an accident," the man admitted, "He's a bit smaller now, but he'll be out soon, okay?"

"Okay..." he trailed off, looking out into the living room, completely set on standing there until his best friend was able to join him.

"How about you head over to the table, kiddo?" his caregiver questioned, earning a pout from the little. "Okay, okay, you can wait here for him!" he decided, figuring there was nothing wrong with it. With a forehead kiss, Phil left him at the doorway.

"Tubbo! We gots apple slices for you!" he rambled excitedly when his friend finally did arrive, running towards him and grabbing his hand. He started to pull him further into the kitchen, but the mentally younger of the two stumbled a bit, seemingly clumsier then he was earlier in the day.

Ranboo realized that he had a pacifier in his mouth now, and he saw Phil replacing his sippy cup with a bottle out of the corner of his eye. He had worked hard to put apple juice in that sippy cup, he thought, pouting a bit.

"M' sorry, didn' mean to make you almost fall! We can go slow," he decided, earning a thankful smile from the other regressor. "Are you gonna say anything?" he asked, walking beside him. As they approached the table, Phil replied for the boy.

"He's a bit younger, bud, he might not be up for talking," he explained, "You know what it's like to be so little that you feel like a baby. Can we all be understanding? He's only a bit older then Wilbur at the moment." "

Tubbo seemed quite embarrassed as he sunk into his seat, pulling his pacifier from his mouth to eat his food. There were sounds of agreement around the table. Ranboo was curious as to what exactly made Tubbo slip so much younger then he usually did, but he didn't voice this curiosity, settling on eating his food in favor of not embarrassing his friend anymore then he already was. .

"These are yucky!" Tommy claimed, pushing his plate with carrots and ranch away from him.

"You like carrots and ranch, what are you talking about?" Phil sounded tired and just a bit annoyed.

"Don' want em," he shook his head, whining just as he had that morning when Wilbur teased him.

"If you eat them you'll get a cookie," the caregiver bribed.

"What type of cookie?" the toddler minded boy squinted his eyes, as if considering this, as if it was a negotiation of sorts.

"Sugar cookie, chocolate chip, I think we have Oreos too...whatever you could want," this definitely caught the boys interest.

"Chocolate chip?" his eyes went wide with excitement, which was only intensified when Phil nodded. Immediately, he uncrossed his arms and pulled his plate back towards him. Phil seemed satisfied with this, ruffling his hair.

The boys were still waking up, so Phil asked them to talk about their elaborate games from earlier in the day to keep them occupied. So, as they ate their snacks, they giggled about imaginary wars and adventures and argued over who won their dramatic plastic sword duels. Eventually, the caregiver gave them their promised sweets before sending them back off to play.

"Ranboo, you left your sippy cup in the kitchen," Phil tapped the boy's shoulder and distracted him from his game of peek-a-boo with Tubbo. He quickly discovered that his friend seemed much to little to participate in any games he'd usually play, so he did what he always saw Phil do with Wilbur: play a simpler one.

It was obviously much more entertaining for the littler of the two, but Ranboo was happy to hear his friend's giggles and squeaks. "Oh! Thanks, dada!" the boy reached up to take his sippy cup from the caregiver as he was sitting on the floor and Phil was standing. Ranboo gasped when he took a drink, feeling bubbles on his tongue.

Immediately, Phil put a finger to his lips and gave him a warning look. This made the boy giggle a bit as he nodded, understanding the signal. "Thank you!" he repeated, smiling when his hair was ruffled softly. The moment didn't last long, Tommy called Phil over for something, and it was back to peek-a-boo with his best friend.

Ranboo didn't mind it, though, peek-a-boo was fun. Being with everyone was fun, even if it meant he got a bit less attention due to there being so much going on. It all evened out, he got to be a snack time helper! And he got an extra cookie! If you asked him, that was pretty awesome.

In the next few days, they'd all get back into making more collaborative content, as that was the point of this meet up, but for now, it was just time to play. To spend time together, to cuddle, and giggle, and make far to much noise in the name of fun. To just be a family.

That was the specific feeling that came to Ranboo with this meet up. The comforting feeling that bubbled in his chest whenever he got a forehead kiss or his hair ruffled by Phil, or when he played babyish games with his friends when they regressed younger then him.

This was the thing that clouded his mind whenever he regressed with this group specifically, or when they were in the car, joking about anything and everything as they got closer and closer to their destination. A feeling that consistently made his life better, the feeling that brought a smile to his face everyday...

The Feeling of Family.

--

A/N: I really hope you liked that adorable mess of 4500 words! I appreciate reblogs and likes, but no matter what, thanks for reading to the end! Did you like the chaotic feeling that five littles/so many people brought into my fic? I kinda had to switch up my normal formulas to make room for so many characters, there's a reason I literally put three character to sleep halfway through the fic hjsikajsa. Did I write Phil well? I tried to portray how a caregiver w/so many littles would act somewhat realistically? Kind of overwhelmed but managing. Also, did you like me portraying ranboo as 'the angle little' of the group? idk I felt like it fit his personality in the scenario. If you reply with/send an ask/reblog with feedback, you can answer those questions, leave a request for something (whether it be in the universe father into the month-long meetup timeline I set up or just another fic), state your general opinions on the fic, or just leave a strand of emojis if words are hard. No matter what, it means a lot! I hope you all have a great day!!!!

I just read the newest chapter and I loved it! ♥ ♥ ♥ I was wondering if you had some hcs about the engineer that you could share?

Awww I'm glad you like it! I just spent 5 minutes trying to figure out what "HCS" meant before realizing I'm a tired idiot who can't read lol

But yeah! I got some headcanons for the engineer/Spirits I can share!

These headcanons are a mix of things I generally believe for any iteration of the Hero of Spirits and a few things exclusive to CTB. It's pretty obvious which are which.

Technically this is slight spoilers since most of this is not mentioned in-story, but Warriors is a such a self-centered asshole that I'm not sure when I can get him to explicitly ask about Spirit's backstory lol

This got super long and kind of just became me talking about Spirits's entire backstory, so enjoy:

Spirits is sixteen during the course of Spirit Tracks, mostly because that was the vibe I got from him when I first played the game (I made him younger for CTB)

He's not descendant from Wind (who I maintain disappeared instead of settling in New Hyrule); instead, he's Aryll's great grandson

His family name used to be Outset, but when everyone who originally immigrated from Outset island took on that last name, they changed it to Aryll to reflect the family matriarch

So Spirit's full name is Link Aryll, though there is a branch of his family that uses Macaryll instead

The Aryll/Macaryll family is huge; everyone has at least six aunts and uncles on all sides of the family and they can trace back how they are related to Aryll

"I'm Grandma Aryl's third son's second daughter's fifth child." -someone Spirits is related to, probably

He actually never met his great grandmother; she died before he was born.

Spirit's dad was full-blooded Lokomo while his mother was Hylian; his mother passed a few months after he was born after never truly recovering from childbirth while his father died in a fishing accident when he was eight

He went to live with an aunt and uncle who owned a general store; their relationship was polite at best. The aunt and uncle told Spirits upfront that they intended to give the store over to his cousin when he was older so Spirits needed to come up with his own life plan

Spirits didn't necessarily mind since he never wanted to work in a store for the rest of his life, but the ultimatum made it clear that they didn't care for him like a son

To this day, their relationship isn't strained and he doesn't hate them. But whenever they meet, he's overly polite; they're more acquaintances than family

He's cool with his cousin though. They have different interests so they aren't best friends, but they're okay.

Spirits also always had his spirit-sensing abilities. It's really like a sixth sense to him, as normal and automatic as seeing and hearing; he actually didn't realize this wasn't normal until he was a little older

His abilities at this point are limited to sensing vague ideas of a person's spirit (if they're light or dark, etc.), and seeing ghosts (which are really rare. You have to have a lot of power yourself to become one)

(Note: I'm not the only one who headcanons Spirits as having spirit sensing abilities; if you know who can up with the idea, please let me know so that I can tag/credit them!)

The elder of his village told him that select Lokomo had minor spirit sensing abilities, and those who did were traditionally made elders of their villages; being more of a follower than a leader, Spirits adamantly dismissed that idea and refused to be trained on how to hone his spirit senses. He also never learned any of the religion behind it

Which was a little worrisome since his abilities are way stronger than most

Besides, he's always liked trains and it's been his dream to travel around the kingdom as an engineer; being some town's elder would get in the way of that

Anyway, Spirits had to pass a written exam before being accepted as an apprentice engineer, so he's very studious and has a lot of drive (pun unintended?)

He went to live with his Uncle Niko during his apprenticeship in another town; Niko isn't related to him, but he's been a friend of the family for so long that everyone secretly thinks he's actually related to someone and they just forgot who

Niko is his real family, hands down. Those two are as thick as thieves and bring out the wild side in each other

A preteen Spirits used to think Niko was a little lame and kind of embarrassing, but now that he's older, he's all for Niko's weird old man-ness and has even picked up on some of his weird old man-ness himself

That being said, they're both disasters. Neither can clean or cook or do any kind of housekeeping and their shared house is cluttered with Niko's art projects and Spirit's half-finished tinkering

Growing up, Spirits had no idea he was related to the legendary Hero of Wind; Aryll died before he was born, but even in life she was filled with too much grief over her missing brother to discuss it often. Within the family, being related to the Hero of Wind is a rumor at best.

Of course, Niko knows but keeps it a secret from Spirits; once he got back from his LU-adventure, Wind told Niko about the curse of the Hero's Spirit. Then he went missing post-New Hyrule's founding, which really drove the terror of the curse home. Niko thought he could keep Wind's family from falling victim to it by not inadvertently encouraging them to follow in Wind's footsteps

So Niko kept it a secret

And obviously, that didn't work

Spirits' quest to save New Hyrule resulted in him realizing that he needed to embrace his Lokomo heritage and get a handle on his spirit powers; Anjean gave him a little training during his quest but afterwards he traveled around the kingdom to find as many people as he could with abilities like his

They were all really excited to teach him what they knew, especially the religious aspects of the abilities; Spirits is still not the most religious person, but he at least understands and embraces the cultural significance of what he is able to do

This is where he learned how to read a person's Spirit to get an idea of their life experiences and the kind of person they're like; he can also detect where a person is without having to put much effort into it

At Zelda's encouragement, he also got more sword training from the Castle Guard. She offered him a place among them, but he turned it down in favor of remaining an engineer. He still helps around as a swordsman when he can and will act as Zelda's body guard

Speaking of which, he and Zelda are 100% in love. Their relationship started out as puppy love but over the years as matured into a deep connection built on mutual respect

When he's working on designing new engines or parts for his trains, he occasionally brings his drafting materials to the castle gardens so that he can work alongside Zelda; sometimes she falls asleep leaning against his arm and he has to be careful not to shake her awake as he works

Whenever she need to go anywhere in the kingdom, she rides in his train and teasingly criticizes his conducting; he takes a lot of pride in his conducting, but he lets her get away with it since her critiques are objectively hilarious

He keeps a tiny pictograph of her taped to his dashboard

But there's a bit of a problem with their relationship, and it's that he doesn't know if he wants to be the prince consort or not. He does love her, but that would mean giving up being an engineer in favor of being stuck at the castle all of the time

Plus, he's doing great as an engineer; he's saving up to open his own garage that produces his own train designs

Eventually, he leaves for the War of Eras

His experiences with Warriors leaves him more sure than ever that he doesn't want to be the prince consort, resulting in him ending his relationship with Zelda shortly after he returns home

It hurts for a long time to be around her since all of his old feelings keep coming back, so he keeps his distance for a long time; it takes a few years for him to go back to hanging out with Zelda as friends

But now she's approaching marriage age, and he spends a lot of time when he's on body guard duty super jealous of these princes and ambassadors from foreign kingdoms who try to court her

But again, he knows he can't be in a relationship with her so he respectfully and silently pines over her (I'm just a sucker for pining, okay?)

Okay, more random headcanons that are a little less sad

Spirits likes super spicy food, but since he can't cook to save his own life, he just eats whatever he can get his hands on

He's super dirty all of the time, just the epitome of scrappy; there's always a smear of oil somewhere on his person

He actually really hates bathing and only keeps his curly hair in check to comply with train safety regulations

He's really polite and a little shy, but once he loosens up, he gets talkative and personable

He's also very contemplative; he likes conducting so much because he gets to spend long stretches of time alone with nothing but his thoughts

His trauma/stress response is to shut down; he goes quiet, loses energy, and sleeps for longer periods of time

He tends to gravitate towards socializing with people who are older than him, which gets him labeled as being no fun by his peers (despite having someone as cooky as Niko for a uncle)

Post-adventure, his best friend is Linebeck III. They're drinking buddies. Neither can really explain why they even like hanging out as much as they do

(I just like the idea of Linebeck accidentally getting attached to one kid and his whole bloodline getting forever tangled with Wind's; they're bros for multiple lifetimes)

Not only is Spirits good at designing and building new machinery, but he's great at tinkering; he can fix almost anything and will buy broken things on purpose just to have something to fix

No one really knows he's a hero; he doesn't like the attention and, at his request, Zelda did her best to keep his involvement with Malladus a secret

Because not many common people know about his adventure and records of New Hyrule are very rare, he's considered in Warrior's time to be a forgotten hero; some scholars believe that a Hero of Spirits may have once existed, but if he did, no one really knows who he was or what he did to serve the bloodline of Hylia

Secret

A/N: Hello, hello! Not much to say about this one other than Allison made me do it (2021 is amazing but angsty and I needed some serious fluff so I wrote it myself smh) Anyways, enjoy :)

Summery: AU in which once you meet your soulmate, you can hear them talking to themselves. You’re Shawn’s personal assistant and soulmate but you have to keep your relationship a secret, until one day . . .

Word count: 6.5k+

Warnings: Swearing, and little angst towards the end (but only a little) 

---

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

Nobody knew. Nobody. Not your parents, not Andrew, not even Brian knew. You never told anyone about it. But now the whole world knew about your relationship.

The whole world knew and you sure as hell were going to lose your job.

---

You wouldn’t say you knew you were soulmates right away, but it didn’t take long to figure it out. Well, it didn’t take long for Shawn to figure it out and tell you. In fact, it only took him about six hours after meeting you to realize you were the one destined for him.

He knew the moment he met you that there was something about you that was just different. Not different like “I’m not like other girls” different. Different as in someone that gave him a feeling he’d never had before.

“Shawn, this is Y/N Y/L/N, your new personal assistant. Y/N, this is Shawn.” You smiled nervously as Andrew introduced you to your new boss, giving him a small wave before realizing how unprofessional it looked.

You stuck your hand out for a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Mendes.”

“Oh, please,” he chuckled as he shook your hand. “Call me Shawn. Mr. Mendes is way too formal.”

You let out a small laugh as well, dropping his hand. There was an awkward pause that made you worry you’d already made the wrong impression. Too weak of a handshake? A wavering voice? What made this go downhill so fast?

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” You nodded at the two men before heading over to the bathroom in the hotel lobby.

“She seemed nervous,” Shawn mentioned once you were out of earshot.

“I think she’s going to be a good fit. She’s a year younger than you and her application was great. Give her a chance. She was meeting the Shawn Mendes, her boss, after all.

Get it together, Y/N.

The words muttered in his head were in her voice, not his own. He frowned, sure that his mind was simply playing tricks on him.

Meanwhile, you were in the bathroom, cursing yourself for already making the wrong impression.

“You said ten words to the man and he probably already thinks you’re a moron,” you muttered as you paced in front of the sinks. “Take a deep breath and get back out there.”

“You okay?” Andrew asked, referring to the distant look that had overtaken Shawn’s face.

“Hmm? . . . Oh, yeah. Zoned out for a second.” Am I hearing my soulmate’s voice?

“Play nice with Y/N. I really think you’re going to like her.”

You exited the bathroom and put a pleasant look on your face as you approached the group. That was your job now: look and make everyone happy.

“Y/N, I’ll show you to your room so you can get settled,” Andrew said, gesturing for you to lead the way towards the elevator.

“Wait, Y/N.” Shawn reached out to gently grab your shoulder. “Do you wanna meet up before dinner for a smoothie or something? You know, to get to know each other?” His soft smile was something you couldn’t say no to, even if you’d only known him for three minutes.

Thirty minutes later, Shawn was knocking on your hotel door and taking you out for a smoothie shop across the street.

“What do you think you’re gonna get?” he asked once you were standing in line, taking his wallet out of his pocket.

“Trying to decide between strawberry-banana and berry blast.”

“This is the best smoothie shop around and you want strawberry-banana?”

“Or berry blast.” You’d just met him but the banter came easily. “Besides, if they’re that good at making smoothies, then the strawberry-banana will knock me off my feet with how good it is.”

“I don’t know if I can work with such a basic person as an assistant.” He playfully nudged you a step away from him.

“Oh, is this a test? Because you haven’t even seen me actually work yet.” You stepped in front of him, deciding on strawberry-banana.

“Yeah, but I could fire you for any reason at any time so really-”

“You’re not gonna fire me.” You turned around and gave him a smirk.

“But I could.” He stepped unreasonably close just as you stepped up to order. You pushed his face back with the back of your hand. He’s acting awfully friendly.

“I’ll take a strawberry-banana smoothie please,” you smiled at the cashier, pulling out some money.

“And I’ll get blueberry and avocado smoothie,” Shawn said as he pushed down your hand with the money and held out his card to the cashier. You glared at him playfully and lightly elbowed him in the stomach. “What? It’s good for your skin.”

“You guys are cute,” the cashier giggled after announcing the total and swiping Shawn’s card.

“Oh, we barely know each other.” Your words were a lost cause as Shawn dragged you aside so the next person could order.

“Shh, she doesn’t know that. Make her think there’s a world where a person with a basic smoothie order and a person with a good smoothie order can be soulmates.”

“I haven’t overheard you talking to yourself yet so I don’t think that’s possible.”

“But imagine.” He led you over to a table and plopped down on a seat. You turned around to hang your purse over the back of the chair as you sat down.

“Wait, how much do I owe you?” You pulled the purse back over the chair and dug through it to find the money you haphazardly stuck in there just a minute before.

“Nothing. It’s on me,” he said, like it was the obvious answer.

“But I feel bad making you pay for it.”

“You’re not making me pay for it, I wanted to. Consider it a ‘welcome to the team’ present.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

He liked how nervous he was making you. Whether it was because he was your boss or because he was devilishly handsome, he wasn’t entirely sure. But, he did know that you made him a little nervous too, especially since he was 95 percent sure you were his soulmate.

---

“You know what?” you said to yourself in your hotel room that night. “This is going to be really good for me. A fresh start and a chance to see the world. It doesn’t get much better than that.”

Shawn was distracted from his own thoughts once he heard your voice in his head. Shawn Mendes is my fucking boss. Not only that, but he’s an awesome dude. He smiled, not entirely sure he should be listening into this conversation. To be fair though, he couldn’t help it. Your voice was in his head.

“Damn,” he said as he put on a clean shirt for the night. “That girl was real cute.” He heard something fall in the other room followed by absolute silence, leading him to believe that you heard him. “She had a basic-ass smoothie order though.”

Was that my soulmate? He couldn’t help but laugh, trying to stay quiet as he figured out how to surprise you. Who did I meet today? You started to list the numerous people you met at dinner that night as Shawn shuffled over to the door that connected your hotel rooms.

“Hey, soulmate,” he quipped as he swung the door open. You let out a yelp, arms holding a shirt over your chest as you fell back onto the bed. “Oh, sorry!”

You threw the shirt over your head and glanced at the mirror on the wall to make sure you looked presentable. “You can come back in now,” you said once you were decent. Shawn reentered with a hand over his eyes, softly closing the door behind him. “You can look,” you giggled. “I have a shirt on now.”

Shawn put his hand down and smiled sheepishly at you. You wanted to swoon at how cute he looked with his rosy cheeks and messy curls.

“Hi.” He leaned against the wall, watching your feet get closer and closer to him until your sock clad toes were almost touching his.

“Hey.” He slowly looked up to meet your gaze. You gave him a shy smile and wave, to which he could only smile back. He’s been dreaming of the moment he met his soulmate for all these years yet he found himself at a loss of words.

“So . . . how much of that did you hear?”

“Oh, I heard the whole shabang. I’m glad you think so highly of me.” You groaned and leaned into his chest.

“You weren’t supposed to hear any of that.”

“That’s part of the whole soulmate thing. Can’t help it.”

“We’re actually soulmates?” You lifted your head so your chin was resting on his chest.

“Yeah,” He wrapped his arms around you. “I think we are.”

You brought your hands up so they were resting on his shoulders. “That moment would be a lot more romantic if I wasn’t staring up your nose.”

Shawn threw his head back, body shaking with laughter. You buried your face into his chest as you laughed along with him.

There was a comfortable pause before either of you dared to break the moment. “I’d day we should stay up all night and talk about our deepest fears and hopes for the future but we both look dead tired so we should probably call it a night.”

“Probably should. Night, Shawn.”

“Night, Y/N.” He squeezed you for a second longer before opening the door and stepping back into his room, sending you a wink before he shut it all the way.

“Shawn Mendes is my soulmate,” you whispered to yourself. “Shawn Mendes is my fucking soulmate!”

“Uh huh,” Shawn chuckled from the other room. “We’re definitely soulmates.”

---

It was a year of bliss full of sneaking kisses behind closed doors and holding hands under tables. You agreed at the start to keep your relationship a secret. With you settling into the new job and the two of you wanting to explore the relationship, it was best to keep everything under wraps. Hard as you tried, people had their suspicions for one reason or another.

It started with Andrew about a month after you realized you were soulmates. Shawn knew he could trust Andrew but he also knew that Andrew could be kind of harsh when it came to professionalism. The man didn’t expect the two of you to refer to each other strictly by last name, but he did expect that you abide by the rules and not cross the line between platonic and romantic.

So Shawn thought it would be best to find out what would happen if you were to announce that you were together. You know, in a hypothetical situation.

“Andrew, Shawn is looking for you,” you said as you peeked your head around the doorway of the green room. “He’s in his dressing room.”

Andrew’s head perked up at the calling of his name and nodded, standing up and following you to Shawn’s dressing room. You let him go in by himself, telling him that you had some other things to attend to. Once he shut the door though, you put your ear to it in hopes that you would be able to overhear what he had to say about Shawn’s “hypothetical” situation.

“Y/N said you needed me?” Andrew said once the door was closed.

“Yeah, I just had a quick question.” Shawn picked at the skin on the side of his thumb. “I just thought of this random situation and I was wondering what would happen if it actually happened.”

Andrew nodded for him to go on, still confused as to why Shawn made him come all the way down there for this.

“So say, my assistant was my soulmate. What would happen? Would they be able to keep their job or . . .?” He could see the gears turning in Andrew’s head at the mention of a soulmate and he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to answer.

“Is this about Y/N?”

“No, no. Just in some alternate universe. What would happen?”

“It depends. You obviously have a soulmate, we can’t stop that from happening, but I’d rather it not be someone you worked with,” Andrew started. “When I hire any team member, no matter what their job is, they agree that there is to be no romantic involvement with you. It keeps things professional and could prevent things from going haywire with the media. Things never look good when a star gets involved with someone on their team. I just don’t want to deal with all the bad publicity that could come out of that kind of situation. I don’t know if I would fire them but it would likely be on the table.” He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. “But that’s not happening with you and Y/N, right?”

Your face dropped. You were expecting that sort of answer, but it still hurt to hear.

“What? Pfft, of course not. I was just curious,” Shawn replied, walking over to the door and pushing it open. You stumbled back, suddenly realizing that you were supposed to be attending “other things.”

“That was all. Thanks, Andrew.” Andrew gave Shawn a look that said he knew something was up, but Shawn laughed it off.

Okay?” He stepped out into the hallway, bumping into you. “Oops, sorry, Y/N.”

“Haha, no problem,” you waved him off. “Shawn, they need you on stage for soundcheck.”

“Soundcheck doesn’t start for another half hour,” Andrew said.

“They wanted to start early. Something about having trouble with stuff in the past so they wanted to get a head start.”

Shawn shot you a discrete thumbs up, eyes silently thanking you for the save.

“Okay then? I’ll let you do what you need to do.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in once he turned around and started making his way back down the hallway.

“Do they actually need me?”

“No, but I needed to look like I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

Shawn looked down the hallway to make sure no one was there before pulling you into a hug behind the open door and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you.”

“Love you too, big guy. Can we go to stage so it doesn’t look like I was lying?” You pulled away and took hold of his hand, tugging him in the direction of the stage.

Shawn rolled his eyes. “The things I do for you.”

“Thank youuu.” He followed you down the long hallway, checking every so often to make sure no one was behind you.

“Nice shoes,” he smirked, glancing down at the tie dye Crocs you were wearing.

“My heel broke and I didn’t have another pair of shoes on me.”

“But you had rainbow Crocs?”

“It’s fashion and comfort all in one shoe. You expect me to carry another pair of heels around when I could be wearing these bad boys?”

“I mean, they go wonderfully with the blouse and slacks. I kinda want a pair now.”

“Guess I know what to get you for Christmas.”

The sound of footsteps coming towards you stopped your conversation. You ripped your hand out of Shawn’s and he found himself missing the warmth of it.

“Hey, just talked to stage crew,” Andrew said once he popped around the corner you were just about to turn. “They’re not starting yet. They’re actually on track to be starting late. Don’t know who told you they needed him.”

“That’s weird,” you said, attempting to subtly put some more space between Shawn and yourself. “Guess we have some time. You guys need me to get anything for you?” The men both shook their heads no.

“Nice shoes, by the way.” He was gone as quickly as he appeared.

You looked over to see Shawn doubled over, body shaking with laughter. “Shut up, he almost caught us.”

“Yeah, but he saw the shoes!”

“How did the universe put us together?”

“Oh stop.” He wrapped you in his arms once again. “You know you love me.”

---

Brian was the next to get curious about your relationship.

A knock on the door that connected you and Shawn’s hotel room made Shawn look up from his phone for the first time in a while. He was met with your sheepish smile and what he now affectionately called the “Y/N wants something wave.”  

He narrowed his eyes at you. “What do you want?”

“Can I borrow one of your shirts? All of mine are dirty.”

“You have like 1,000 shirts.”

“Well 995 of them are dressy shirts for my job and I’m out of comfy shirts to sleep in. Would you be willing to sacrifice one of yours so I may bask in its comfort?”

“I guess so,” he sighed, leaning over the side of his bed to grab a shirt.

“Thank you.” You smiled wider as he came towards you and threw the shirt over your face. “Ooh, it smells like you.”

“That could be because I wear it a lot.”

“Is it your favorite shirt?”

“Maybe.”

“Ooh, I feel special.”

“Go put a shirt on, weirdo.”

You disappeared behind the door for a second and slipped the shirt on. You stepped back into Shawn’s room without a second thought and suddenly, Shawn couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

The silence and his stare made you feel self conscious for a moment. Does he not want me to wear it?

“I actually have a clean shirt if you don’t want me to wear-”

“No, keep it on. It looks good on you.” Two months into your secret relationship and he was head over heels in love with you.

“Thanks . . .” Completely uncharted territory. Neither of you had any idea what to do from here.

“Do you wanna, uh, sleep here tonight?” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah . . . I’d like that.”

He held his arm out for you to enter and closed the door behind you.

“I, uh, need to use the bathroom real quick.”

You stepped into the bathroom and braced yourself on the counter. “It’s no big deal, Y/N. He’s your soulmate. No need to get nervous.”

Shawn melted as the words played in his head. Now go out there and be the best damn soulmate there is.

You emerged from the bathroom like nothing happened, leaning on the doorway with your arms crossed. “Sup?”

“You didn’t flush the toilet.”

“Oh please, we both know I wasn’t actually going to the bathroom.”

Shawn held his hands up in defense, extending them out as you shuffled over to the bed and flopped down on it.

“I’m going to steal this shirt, by the way,” you said matter of factly.

“You should. It looks good on you.” He tugged you onto his chest so your head was laying over his heart.

“You’re gonna let me steal your favorite shirt, just like that?” You flipped over so your chin was resting on his shoulder. He nodded. “Damn, that was easy. You really do love me.”

You spent the next hour and a half talking about the random thoughts that crossed your mind. Minute by minute, your eyes got droopier and droopier, until you were fast asleep on top of Shawn. It was everything he wanted in life, right there in his arms.

He was almost asleep himself when there was a sharp knock on the door. He got up, careful not to move you too much and wake you up before opening the door.

“Hey, can I borrow some toothpaste?” a tired looking Brian asked, a yawn escaping his mouth in the fluorescent hotel hallway.

“Uh, yeah.” Shawn let Brian step inside, completely forgetting in his sleepy state that you were laying on the bed. He came out of the bathroom a second later to hand the toothpaste to Brian, who seemed completely shocked out of the daze he was in earlier. “What?”

“Is that Y/N?”

“Oh, yeah, she had a rough day so she came over here to vent. Ended up falling asleep before she went back to her own room.” He was getting better at coming up with these coverups.

“Really? She seemed like she was having a great day when I saw her earlier. I think the tie dye Crocs put her in a good mood.”

“I don’t know,” Shawn shrugged. “Maybe something went wrong after you saw her?”

“Maybe,” Brian nodded slowly, already putting the pieces together. “She’s not your soulmate, is she?”

“No, of course not. Just good friends.” The response came quick. Almost too quick.

“Okay, sure.” Brian took the toothpaste from Shawn with a skeptical look. “Thanks. I’ll give it back tomorrow morning.”

Shawn gave him a thumbs up and closed the door. He looked back to your sleeping form and couldn’t help but grin. He loved everything about you. How bad would it actually be if someone found out about you?

---

“Wanna ditch and get milkshakes?” You were standing in the corner of some celebrity’s mansion when Shawn asked the question. The Grammys afterparty wasn’t all that appealing to you, but it was part of the job and Shawn wanted you to go as his plus one since you were, as he claimed, his “best friend in the whole entire universe.”

“Hell yeah.” You pushed yourself off the wall, brushing off the back of your dress. “Where’re we going?”

“I dunno. What’s open this late?” He reached out to grab your hand, which you almost took before realizing where you were. His face dropped the slightest bit, wanting nothing more than to hold your hand and let the whole world know that he’d found his soulmate.

“I’m sure there’s something close by.” You nodded for him to follow you. “Wait, I have to ‘convince’ you to stay so I can say I tried to keep you here and Andrew doesn’t get mad at me.”

Shawn crossed his arms and nodded. “Can we ditch and get milkshakes?”

“No, we have to stay so you don’t seem rude.”

“But this party's boring and we could have a lot more fun somewhere else.”

“Shawn.”

“I could fire you . . .”

“Nice,” you said, grabbing his wrist and making your way through the crowd.

The cool air of the night was a relief from how hot it was inside but you found yourself pressing yourself into Shawn’s side anyways. He threw his arm over your shoulder as the two of you made your way to the edge of the driveway. The noise from the party faded into the background and neither of you said anything, enjoying one of the rare quiet moments you got together.

“Where to, m’lady?”

“You’re the one who wanted to leave.”

“Don’t act like you wanted to be there,” he teased, pulling away to grab your hand and twirl you under his arm.

“Well, I’m indecisive so you have the honors of picking the place.”

“I guess let’s go into the city and go to the first place that’s open.”

“Sounds good to me.” Your smile could light up the streets better than the streetlamps and he never wanted to see it go away.

“Take this, by the way.” Shawn shook his suit jacket off and put it over your shoulders. The red cloth was a little too big but he thought you looked stunning nonetheless.

“I’m not cold though.” You pulled your arms through the sleeves anyways.

“Let me do the boyfriend thing,” he pleaded as he rolled his shirt sleeves up.

“Fine. Only because you look really hot with your shirt sleeves rolled up.”

He smirked, making a mental note for the future.

You walked for a while before you stumbled across a McDonald’s, mumbling a might as well before opening the door for Shawn.

“Hey, I’m supposed to do that.”

“Oh, please. Let me be nice.”

The restaurant was empty, the only other person in there being the cashier who sleepily appeared from the kitchen as you looked at the menu. Shawn stepped up and ordered a milkshake before you stepped up and ordered a shake and fries. You whipped out your card and paid for it before Shawn could, to which he playfully glared at you.

“You pay for stuff all the time. Let me pay seven dollars this one time.”

He huffed, letting you know that you’d won. You smiled triumphantly as you sat down at a table and patted the space across from you. Shawn sat down and propped his elbow on the table to rest his head on his hand.  

“Why are you so pretty?” you mumbled as you admired him. Seven billion people in the world and you somehow were lucky enough to have Shawn Mendes as your soulmate. Who would’ve thought?

“Why are you so pretty?” He reached across the table to grab your hand.

“I asked first.” You intertwined your fingers with his.

Your order number was called before he could respond, causing him to let go of your hand and go up to the counter. He grabbed the food and turned around to catch you checking him out. “What’re you looking at?”

“I can’t help it! Do you have any idea how hot it is when you roll the sleeves of a button up all the way up to your elbows?”

He laughed as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Would’ve done this a lot more often if I knew how much you liked it,” he said as he popped a fry into his mouth.

“Well, it’s super hot so please do it more often.” You took a sip of your milkshake. “And be more careful. Someone might see us.,” you said, referring to the act of affection he did moments before.

“We’re fine. The poor kid’s so tired they’re falling asleep back there.”

“Still. We’re in public and I really don’t want to lose my job.”

“Andrew won’t fire you. He just wants to scare us,” Shawn insisted, reaching over to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Besides, if word does get out we can finally move forward with our lives. Get married? Really start our future together?” It had only been eight months but Shawn knew without a single doubt that he wanted to be with you. (The soulmate part helped a little bit too.)

“You really want to do that?”

“You’re my soulmate and the most amazing person I’ve ever met. Of course I want to get married! That is, as long as you want to.”

“I’d like that.”

The sound of your phone ringing ruined the moment, and you quickly fumbled to get it out of your pocket.

“Andrew, hey,” you said, watching Shawn’s face change from lovey-dovey to concerned and a little scared.

“Where are you guys?” Andrew’s voice came through the phone, slightly drowned out by the loud music playing in the background.

“I . . . uh . . .”

“It sounds really quiet over there. Did you guys sneak back to the hotel?” You cringed at what sounded like a disappointed tone as you tried to come up with an answer that wouldn’t get you fired.

“Shawn wanted milkshakes so we’re at McDonalds,” you finally admitted.

“Dude!” Shawn whisper yelled.

“I tried to make him stay but he was insistent!”

“Can you put Shawn on the phone?”

“Sure,” you said, passing the phone to Shawn.

“Andrew, hi,” Shawn said in a voice that did not at all match the look on his face. You couldn’t hear what Andrew was saying but based on the intermittent “I know” and “yeah” you assumed he was getting lectured about ditching the party.

“We will. See you there.” He hung up with a sigh. “Our romantic time at McDonald’s is going to have to come to an end, my dear.”

“What’d he say?” You took your phone from his hand and stood up.

“Come back to the hotel or you’re gonna get it.” He took his milkshake in one hand and your hand in the other, letting you take the last few fries and throw out the cardboard.

“You’re going to get me fired one of these days.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing! I like my job, thank you very much.”

“I kid, I kid.”

His smile was all you needed in life. Job or not, you would always have Shawn, right?

---

“Here’s your boarding pass,” you said through a yawn, handing Shawn the slip of paper as you walked into the airport.

The pass you handed him had your name printed on it and he laughed to himself. He took the pass you had in your hand and switched it with the one he gave you.

“What’re you-”

“You gave me your pass.” He placed his hand on your lower back, subtly trying to speed you up so you could catch up to the rest of the group.

“Oh, sorry,” you muttered softly. “I’ve gotten three hours of sleep in the past two days. I’m so ready to get on the plane and take a freaking nap.”

“We gotta get on the plane first, sleepyhead.” You were dressed in leggings, an oversized t-shirt, and your tie dye Crocs. It was one of the few times he ever saw you dressed down on the job and he was loving it.

“Watch your hand, there’s people all around.”

“It’s really hard to take you seriously when you look like you’re about to pass out in my arms.”

“Shawn!”

“I’m helping out my tired best friend. Besides, it’s four in the morning, nobody’s around.” He didn’t move his arm, even as you got closer to the group. It was like he wanted to get caught. “And, if you really wanted me to move, you would’ve shaken my arm off by now.”

He knew you too well.

He kept his arm there as you checked your luggage and went through security, only letting go when absolutely necessary. It earned some strange looks from a couple team members but you were too tired to care. All you wanted to do was take a year long nap.

You ended sitting in the terminal with half the team while the other half went to get coffee. Shawn sat next to you, occasionally glancing around to see if he could steal a kiss from you when no one was looking.

It was another 30 minutes until you were supposed to board but you weren’t sure you would be able to keep your eyes open for much longer. Shawn noticed your bobbing head and drooping eyes and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pushing your head so it was resting on his shoulder.

“I’ll wake you up when it’s time to board.”

“Thanks, babe,” you whispered, pressing a subtle kiss to his shoulder as your eyes fluttered closed.

“What are you guys gonna do when you find your real soulmates?” Brian asked casually, not even looking up from his phone. Shawn’s head snapped up at the mention of “soulmates” and Brian snickered. “You two act like you’re soulmates all the freaking time. What’s gonna happen when you find the actual one for you?”

“What if we are soulmates and we just didn’t tell anyone?” It was a stupid answer but he wasn’t sure what else to say. Was he really about to expose your relationship after keeping it a secret for all this time?

“You wouldn’t be able to keep that from me.” While Brian wasn’t entirely convinced his two friends weren’t soulmates, he didn’t have the proof to say definitively that they were.

“Fair enough.”

The conversation stopped there but Shawn couldn’t stop thinking about it. Eleven months together and you somehow managed to keep it a secret from everyone. It meant that you couldn’t progress your relationship as far as you wanted to though. Was it even worth it to keep it a secret anymore?

Your boarding group was called before he could dwell on it too long and Shawn was forced to wake you up. As much as he wanted to keep you asleep, he knew there was no getting you on the plane otherwise.

“Wake up, pretty girl,” he muttered as he pressed his face to the top of your head and rubbed his hand up and down your arm. You sighed and snuggled deeper into him, craving his warmth. “You can go back to sleep soon but we gotta get on the plane.”

You lifted your head slowly, blinking at the bright lights of the terminal. Shawn helped you stand up and grabbed your carry on and helped you stand up.

“I’m supposed to take your stuff. That’s my actual job,” you said, reaching for your backpack that he was holding.

“You’re tired, honey. Let me carry your bag.”

You complied, too tired and wanting nothing more than to knock out for the five hour flight. You put your head back on Shawn’s shoulder the second he sat down next to you on the plane, out cold for the entire ride.

---

Shawn Mendes Found His Soulmate? Everything You Need to Know About the New Couple.

What You Need to Know About Shawn Mendes’ Post Last Night.

Shawn Mendes Gets Cozy With His PA in Recent Instagram Post.

The headlines seemed to be never ending as they appeared on your phone. You could hear Shawn pacing in the other room and trying to explain to Andew what was happening. It was inevitable, you knew. But did it have to happen like this?

“Andrew, I don’t know what to tell you. It was an accident!” Shawn insisted, running a hand through his hair for the millionth time since the call started.

“Do you have any idea how bad this is, Shawn?” Andrew sighed on the other side of the line. “This is exactly what I told you was going to happen!”

Texts were blowing up your phone like crazy. All your friends were wondering since when Shawn Mendes was your soulmate and why you didn’t tell them earlier. That didn’t matter so much through as you realized that you were about to lose your job, and possibly Shawn.

“We’re soulmates, Andrew! What were we supposed to do? You said that she’d be fired if she was my soulmate. Y/N loves this job and she’s amazing at it. I didn’t want to lose her!”

You felt like you were going to throw up.

From what you could hear, the rest of the conversation didn’t go too well. Shawn sounded frustrated beyond belief as he tried to save your job and relationship, leaving you wondering if you would have either of those after today. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear him enter the living room and sit down next to you.

“Andrew wants to have a meeting in an hour,” he sighed. You bit your lip, trying to hold back tears as you stared at the ground.

“I’m getting fired, aren’t I?” you asked.

“I have no idea, honestly. I’m not sure how much authority I have over that.” He put his head in his hands. The uncertainty of the future was killing both of you.

“Should we just break up?”

Your voice was so quiet but Shawn heard the words loud and clear.

“What!?”

“We’re obviously going to get in a ton of trouble for this. What if Andrew says we have to end it? If this ends, I want it to be on my terms, not someone else’s.”

“Y/N, he can’t make us break up.”

“But what if this destroys your career? I wouldn’t be able to live with the fact that I was the reason you had to stop doing what you loved.”

“Y/N, you’re spiraling. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that I love more than you.”

“I just want you to be happy.” A single tear slipped down your face and Shawn wished he wasn’t the reason for it.

“You make me happy.”

You stared at each other for a moment before you threw yourself into his arms, latching on tight as sobs rang through your body. Shawn tucked his head into your neck, holding you tight and letting a few tears soak into your shirt.

“No matter what happens,” He pulled back to look directly into your eyes. “I will always love you. Nobody can make us end our relationship, okay? I don’t care if it ends my career, I will never want anything more than you.”

You nodded, not sure what else to say.

“Now, lets get yelled at by Andrew and tell him that this isn’t going to end.”

---

“Alright, let’s talk about this.” Andrew sat down across from you and Shawn, sounding calmer than he did an hour ago over the phone.

“Before you say anything, we’re not breaking up. I just wanna make that clear.” Shawn said, his thumb caressing your hand under the table.

“I’m not gonna make you break up. I just want to know why you didn’t tell me earlier.” His voice sounded strained, like he couldn’t believe that you would hide something like this from him for so long. “We could’ve prevented this whole squabble if you just told me earlier.”

“I didn’t want to lose my job,” you said. “I agreed that I wouldn’t be romantically involved with Shawn when you hired me and I broke that agreement on the first day.”

“The first day?” Andrew leaned forward in his seat.

“Yeah, we uh . . . we found out that night.”

“If I’m being honest, I’ve pretty much known for a while,” Andrew confessed. “I was waiting for one of you to tell me though. I didn’t want to pressure you.”

“But you said she could get fired-”

“I said that firing her could possibly be on the table, depending on the situation. Y/N’s a great team member and I know your relationship isn’t going to get in the way of her doing her job. I figured that if you were trying to keep it a secret for so long, you didn’t want anyone to know.”

“You knew the whole time?” Shawn leaned back in his chair, feeling a lot more relaxed now that he knew your job was safe.

“You guys were subtle but you weren’t that subtle. I pieced it together pretty quickly.”

“So I’m not getting fired?”

“No, I’m not going to fire you.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was a-okay. “Thank you, Andrew. Really, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“No need to thank me. Your work speaks for itself.” Andrew smiled and for the first time in a long time, you felt at ease. You didn’t have to hide anything anymore. “However, we do have to deal with this situation you two have created.”

---

“Ready?” Shawn asked, his thumb hovering over the “post” button.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you smiled. A year of hiding your relationship from everyone you knew and you were finally going to share it with the world.

“Let’s do this.” He pressed the button and just like that, the picture was up.

shawnmendes "You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams." -Dr. Seuss

Taglist//Add yourself//Masterlist 

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Im not sure if you take requests but if you do can I please have some angsty janus HC? if not im sorry for bothering you. have a nice day!

First of all, you aren't bothering me, I love it when people ask about my headcanons. And secondly, *shocked* I'm being ASKED to share my angst?!

We're gonna be here for a while

He picks/scratches at his skin,

he doesn't really know why he does it, but he often spends full nights scratching his arms, chest, and legs. But NEVER at his neck or face, the other sides can see that. It's normally targeted at his scaled half, but he does scratch at the human side too

The scratches typically run very deep, there's a lot of blood, and Janus doesn't always have access to a medkit

Janus is the youngest out of all the sides, around 21-24, but he never really got to have the full childhood that he was supposed to

Virgil is the oldest of the sides, and when they were younger he was around a lot, basically playing mother hen. But once Janus turned 10 or so, Virgil stopped spending as much time with him and Remus

So Janus had to grow up quick. He learned how to cook (not very well, but food is food), spent most of his time reeling Remus in (who is around 15 at this time), and delivering food to Virgil's door, trying to get him to come out

At the end of the day, Janus was too tired to play, read, or do anything really. He just went to bed.

So young Janus' schedule was;

wake up, make Remus/Virgil food, force Remus to eat the food, attempt to keep the house from a disaster fire from Remus, make lunch, talk to Virgil through his door, more babysitting of Remus, make dinner, send Remus to bed, clean up, go to sleep

Hardly time for playing in there

To this day, if you hand him a toy, he'll simply stare at you with wide eyes

Janus can tell when people tell lies

They don't taste nice or anything, he can't even taste them at all. The lies are revealed with a sharp stabbing pain to his chest

Similar to a heart attack.. But worse.. So much worse.

Imagine if you took a long knife, and stabbed it repeatedly, over and over for hours, breathing faulting, and the entire room starts to spin. It hurts

Now imagine that you have to keep a straight face during this pain or get strange looks and get told you're faking

Janus has gotten a little too used to that stabbing pain

Everytime that Janus stumbled in SvS? That was him trying to hide the pain

The dark side is cold, really cold, like Canadian winter cold. But the darks don't have central heating

It's sadly very common for Remus to find Janus passed out, near hypothermic, in random places in their own home

The dark sides home is... a lot less pleasant then someone would prefer. It looks like a prison with concrete walls and floors, bars cover the windows, and the backyard is completely fenced in with 15ft+ high fences.

The sides rooms move when Thomas is willing to accept that they're a part of him and that he needs to work with them

Remus' room moved back in DWIT, because Thomas accepted that he's there and that he can't get rid of him

Janus is still stuck in the dark. Thomas has given him a chance, but he's not completely accepted that he's needed yet

Janus can often be found passed out on the light side's couch, simply because his room is far too cold

Virgil almost always finds him first, he doesn't like Janus by any means, but he knows first hand that the dark half is cold, so he normally just throws a heated blanket over him and calls it a day

Janus is always gone before Virgil can talk to him

His shepards crook is actually a cane

He had to start using it right after Virgil left, Remus ran off to the imagination and Janus chased after him. He ended up getting cornered by a monster, and it punctured his knee almost clean through

Remus only found him because he was screaming so loud. Roman could hear it from his half of the imagination, but thought it was an animal and didn't bother to investigate

Even as an adult, his sleep schedule is horrible

He's coldblooded, makes the dark half so much worse

The closest thing that he's ever had for a friend (when he was younger) was Logan. They would watch documentaries together and talk about them for a bit

Those stopped when Janus had to take care of Remus

Remus is his friend now, but he still spends most of his time looking after him and making sure that he's eating (he tends to forget that he needs to eat)

Remus goes back to the dark half everyday to spend time with Janus

Janus is a really bad cook, he can make half burnt grilled cheese and pasta. Thats about it. It's not from lack of effort really

The other sides are genuinely concerned for his health and well-being. Everytime he shows up he seems paler, his eye bags are larger, and his clothes hang off of him

Janus doesn't actually believe them when they say that they want to help though

Janus gets maybe two hours of sleep daily

He spends the entirety of his free time trying to help Thomas

He would drink coffee to help him stay awake and productive, but he hates the taste of it

The others grow more and more concerned everytime he passes out. Which is a lot. Janus always brushes it off though

Logan is the only one who doesn't believe him

He remembers what Janus was like when they were younger, and it was NOTHING like how Janus acts now. They're completely different.

The Orange side made him show up and impersonate the other sides. The only time that he showed up willingly was in POF

He honestly doesn't know what he did to make Virgil hate him, nor does he know why Virgil locked himself away when he was 10

Janus is angry, he's angry that he had to grow up quickly, he's angry that Virgil abandoned him, he's angry that Remus needs to be constantly supervised, he's angry at Orange, he's angry at himself. He's angry. But doesn't have the energy to do anything

He cries himself to sleep a lot more then you would think

Touch starved. Completely touch starved. He breaks down completely when someone touches his wrist

You would think that self preservation would have better self care, but no. He's really bad at it. The closest he gets is getting 4 hours of sleep instead of the normal 2

Even after Remus left, he spends all of his time trying to help Thomas... Only to get pushed to the side

He normally completely forgets to eat food and only remembers when he's on the verge of passing out

He's gotten super good at makeup to hide the red streaks from crying so much

He loves snakes, but can't own one in the dark half because the temperature would put them in extreme pain or even kill it. Janus doesn't want to put the poor creature in suffering

The only toy he still has from childhood is a stuffed snake, but even that has had extreme mending

He sewed his entire outfit himself, and he was quite proud of it! Every time another side insults it, he withers a bit inside

The other sides have tried to stage an intervention so many times, but Janus can somehow avoid them everytime

He doesn't want their pity, because thats what he thinks it is, pity.

T r u s t I s s u e s

Lots of trust and abandonment issues

He has talked to Emile, but he has a hard time trusting him

Completely avoids Patton. Completely.

You can occasionally see him out of the corner of your eye in the common rooms, but the second you turn around he's gone

He's short as hell

His hair is like curly fries. Complete ringlets. But he hates them, hense the hat

He hates it when the others steal the hat

Everytime they insult his scales, he dies a little inside

Let me know if you want more :)

Moirai [2]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

➜ Words: 6.2k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

You turn the corner and dart down the hall.   “My lady!”   There’s a parade of maids chasing after you, Joan included in the bunch, and a frightened guard whose metal armour clanks with each movement. You grin, swinging your wooden sword around at them with a ‘huzzah!’. Pretending you’re a champion, you twirl around the pillar with one arm. But even with your theatrics, they’re still meters away and out of reach.   “Please! Come back! You have your dance lessons!”   You stick out your tongue. “Then catch me!”   It’s been one full year since you’ve started learning swordsmanship and admittedly, it’s become one of your most favourite times of the day. It beats sitting at a desk with the old fart droning on and on about dumb things you already know or having your posture criticized over and over again during dance lessons.    You’re frankly getting tired of having information and insults shoved down your throat.    Sword lessons are the only time you can be out in the sun and do whatever you want. You can tell that you’re improving too. It’s a pain in the ass to get the guards to take you seriously, but sometimes the tips and tricks they give are pretty helpful.   It’s fun.   Especially when there are people desperately chasing you.   “P-Please!” one of the girls cries out, running out of breath.   One of the best perks about being a five-year old is having endless energy in your body. And you’ll happily take advantage of that while you still can. “Pirates never give up! Argh, matey!”   But your play time is unfortunately interrupted by a deadpanning voice—   “What are you doing?”    The familiar sharp voice sends shivers up your spine and you freeze.   Your parade halts on their heels as well, immediately dropping their heads to the ground and placing one hand over the other reverently. “Your grace.”   “What is going on here?” Your mother’s footsteps echo through the marble hall, ball gown dragged behind her as her scrutinizing eyes lay on the help, the knight and then to you.   “I’m so sorry,” Joan is quick to confess, “The lady refuses to attend her dance practices.”   And she’s quick to throw you under the bus.   If you could, you’d stick up your middle finger at her.   Your mother turns, her glare laid upon you. You brace yourself.   “This is not how the future Devereux head should act.” Her voice is above a slight murmur, yet chilling and heavy. Her narrowed eyes have dimmed as they look upon you. She doesn’t need to yell to be frightening. “The Chevalier household has their youngest daughter playing piano and they recently went to the castle to show her talent. How will you compete, Anastasia?”   “I—”   “Or will you continue to tarnish our family’s name by being a child?”   You are a child. Technically.    The woman looms over you, her demeanour imposing and the burden of the household’s name lays upon your shoulders. You can’t help but feel small. It’s no wonder Anastasia took the Prince’s kindness as love and fell for him so quickly. Moments with him were her moments of freedom.   You stay quiet, solemn, knowing it’s not worth arguing. Your eyes instead focus on a younger maid who’s silently snickering to herself and before you can make note for later, your vision blurs.   “From now on, your swordsmanship lessons will be retracted until you’ve caught up with the rest of your lessons,” she says while looking straight ahead, not sparing you a glance. “The only places you are to be permitted in for the next month is your room and the study—”   It’s unfair. A punishment that doesn’t fit the crime.   But your voice doesn’t come out of your mouth.   The world tilts on an axis. It swirls. Your head is lightweight.    And before you could figure out what’s happening, there’s a shrill cry for you — “my lady!” — and you feel yourself falling back before the universe becomes pitch black. An abyss of nothing.   //   “Why did she faint?!”   When you come to, your first thought is that you’ve died. Again.   Illness. Heart attack. Maybe from the plague.    Fuck.   It’s frightening and you feel an urge to cry, knowing that you yet again didn’t complete your goal of living a long and fruitful life. That the years spent fighting for your survival were ultimately useless. But then you hear far away voices and realize your fingers can twitch. The soft mattress underneath you registers soon after and it sinks in that you’re in your room, bedridden.   “Well….your grace…”   “On with it! I didn’t bring you here to waste my time!”   “Herrick…”   Oh right. It’s the Eve of the Solar Festival, isn’t it? A day where commoners celebrate the empire and wish for its everlasting prosperity. You remember since you’ve never gone before. Around this same time last year and the year before that, you fell ill in the exact same way — cold, chest aching, dizzy spells.    It’s odd. Usually you aren’t so weak and yet somehow, you always get better in the morning once the festival is over. You don’t remember this ever being mentioned in the original game either. Or at least Anastasia never said anything about it and she would’ve totally milked it for the Prince’s attention if she could’ve. But maybe it’s an outside detail. Something the game developers were going to include in a future DLC.   “We don’t know what’s happening to the lady, your grace,” the healer says.   Your father bellows from his stomach, “Excuse me?!”   “H-Her pulse reads well and she has no fever either. I-It’s a very unusual case.”   In your half-consciousness, you perceive the bitter silence.    “Heal her at all costs.” Your father’s footsteps fade and your mother sighs.   You wish you couldn’t hear. Otherwise, it would be easy to demonize the pair as unsympathetic, psychopathic parents who only consider their daughter a chess piece. You’re sure the only reason they’re expressing so much concern is because you are the only heir after all. They really have no future if Anastasia dies.    But it’s still hard to quell the hope that they actually care for your wellbeing.    Still, you wish you couldn’t hear their desperation. It wouldn’t have to be so conflicting. Or bittersweet. The only time they show an ounce of their affection is when you’re on your deathbed.   You muster the strength to open your eyes once everyone’s left the room.    Most likely, you’ll live through this. You still have yet to have any of the game’s encounters or even start. Anastasia was alive for most of it, enough to terrorize the main character, so you’ll live too.   Shit. When does the game start again?   The opening scene was right before the debutante ball was held for all the girls in the empire.   You count on your fingers — give or take, there’s twelve or thirteen years left….   But you remember from the wiki fan page that Anastasia became engaged to the Crown Prince when they were kids.    Oh god. If you weren’t so weak, you’d roll over and scream into your pillow.   There’s an unsettling feeling boiling in the pit of your stomach.   No matter how much effort you put forth, you don’t know how you’re going to avoid that arrangement.

Turns out, it’s unavoidable.   It begins two years later at seven years old, the D-day that you were dreading, the first domino that begins all the others.   “No! Please!” The entire household is stunned at how you’ve grabbed onto the Duke’s leg and wrapped your limbs around his appendage, practically dead weight and not allowing him to move a single step.    All your life, you’ve kept a good amount of distance between your parents — never daring to overstep your boundaries or sass them back no matter how much you wanted to. It’s more trouble than it’s worth anyway and it’s better to play on their good side.   But you’ve thrown in the towel. This is your last desperate attempt.   “I’ll be good, I promise I’ll go to all my dance lessons and all my history lessons and all my math lessons. Please, papa! Please!” You’re practically crying aloud. You wish someone would help you. “I don’t want to go to the Royal Palace!”   Edith is shaking her head while Joan is mortified at the sidelines.   Your mother’s expression is twisted in disgust while your dad is wholly aghast. Hey — it’s not like you wanted to do this either, alright?!   But your pleas fall on deaf ears. To them, it’s merely the whining of a child. A temper tantrum.   “My lady, please stop this,” Joan harshly whispers and rushes to pry your grip off of the Duke’s leg. Several others come too, maids and kitchen staff alike. Your strength is no match for theirs.   “My stomach hurts!”   Your father has no sympathy. “We’ve delayed enough times, Anastasia. If we postpone the meeting with the King again, it would be shameful to our house. Now get up.”   He’s done hearing the excuses — and while you’d usually internally call him out for being an ass, the moment you heard he wanted to take you to the palace, you did claim you have a fever.    Then you claimed diarrhea. A cough. Hid for several hours.   You’re actually surprised you managed to delay it for this long.   “There’s no choice, my lady,” Joan mutters quickly as she fixes the ribbons in your pretty hairdo. “You must go with the Duke today.”   Deep down, you know it’s true. You’ll be pulled along anyhow.    But you wish they would understand that this is a matter of life and death for you.   Your silence is a sign of raising the white flag and Joan retracts back to her place as your dad turns to leave the manor. He adjusts his hat as he’s escorted to the carriage and you’re about to trail after him, but your mother stops you.   You expect her to reprimand you, give an earful of what you should and shouldn’t do. But you’re surprised when she lowers herself down to your eye level.    She catches you off guard when she reaches out to button up your pea coat, attentive and careful in each swift movement. “This is a really important meeting, Anastasia. Do you understand?”    Her voice is soft, quiet enough that no one else aside from you can hear. You nod.   “You must be on your best behaviour. Your father, me, all the workers here, and the whole House of Devereux will be relying on you.” Wow. Way to not pressure a seven year old. “Today is the day that might change our lives for the better.”   As she finishes buttoning, her hands stroke your shoulders down your arms. The Duchess smiles gingerly, tiredly. For a moment, you feel guilty for being so selfish — for prioritizing your own survival and desires when everyone else was quite literally relying on you for their livelihood.   You find yourself swallowing hard before nodding again.    You get into the carriage without another word.    Well fuck. What now?   A part of you wishes you ran away when you had the opportunity — even though there was a good chance you would’ve been kidnapped and sold at an underground market or gone hungry or be shipped back right to your parents. Ashea, like any other place, doesn’t take kindly to wandering children.   But at least then you would’ve had more control and choice.    You know this isn’t just a fun field trip to the palace. The only reason the Duke and the King would meet like this is to seek an engagement. Your engagement with the Prince’s.    Half an hour later, you peek out the carriage windows to see the castle at the horizon.   Stone walls, seven towers, lookouts, the empire’s flag fluttering in the breeze — it’s a beautiful place with rolling green hills and beds of flowers that wind up the path. It’s a hundred times more grand than the Devereux estate and ten times the size too, stretching across for miles. But it’s also the location where all of it happens.    The beginning. The climax. The end.   “Anastasia.”   Your attention is taken when your father steps off the carriage. You take the servant's hand and hop down onto the cobblestone, following your father closely. He greets an important person or two and you lower your head to them in greeting as they complement how mannerly you are.   The two of you are led through open, lavish halls full of life-sized portraits and marble statues, and then through the garden. Even in both your lifetimes, you’ve never seen so many different kinds of flowers and vivid hues in one place.    Pansies. Orchids. Marigold.    Magenta. Lavender. Marmalade.   But you don't get to admire it for long. Not when the gazebo comes into sight.    A man with straight posture, dark hair streaked with gray to show his age and deep set eyes sits at the rounded table. Even with the absence of his crown, his status is shown through his navy cape ornate with golden swirls held together by an emerald jewel embellished with the royal crest. Wrinkles around his mouth, he has a fiercely stern expression until he cordially smiles as your father approaches.    Beside him is a spitting image, a smaller boy slumped in the white chair, visibly bored.   “Herrick! Good to see you, my old friend.”   “Your Majesty.” Your father bows and you follow suit, giving a curtsy and lowering your head. But at the same time, you can’t help peeking at the boy. His eyes meet yours and you look away.   Oh fuck.   It’s the first meeting between the Prince and Anastasia.    You’re sure for her it was impactful, nerve wracking, life changing. And it’s like that for you as well, but not so much on the positive side.   “Please, the formalities. Is this the daughter you've been speaking so highly about?”   “Yes, this is my only child, Anastasia.”   You plaster on a perfect, little smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”   The King hums. “A very lovely child indeed. The Devereux House is blessed.”   The Duke smiles. “Thank you.”   “Please sit and make yourselves welcome.” The King gestures and the servants nearby scurry over, pulling out your chairs, pouring tea and placing plates of biscuits on their table. In a blink, they’ve finished and you can’t help but muse how much better they are than the servants back at home. The King smiles and looks at his son. “Jungkook, don’t you have anything to say?”   “Nice to meet you,” he deadpans before his doe eyes wander out to the gardens.    Jungkook is wholly disinterested in you and this entire affair — you don’t blame him. You bet any seven year old would be itching to get out of their seat. But looking at him, you can’t believe you liked him so much in the game. You even had him as your phone wallpaper for a few months.   But from the perspective of Anastasia and knowing your outcome and your impending demise, he’s not even cute as a kid.   If anything, sitting across from him stresses you the fuck out.   You weren’t supposed to even meet him. This was the exact opposite of your battle plans. And yet the engagement is going to happen whether you like it or not. The greatest irony of all is that you know he’ll end up falling in love with the main character anyway instead of you. Aka. the orphaned girl who ends up adopted by a baron.   This whole ordeal only serves to make you suffer.   The only way you could sabotage this meeting now is by slamming the teapot over Prince Jungkook’s head. And that would either get you thrown in jail for treason and executed or sent back to the Devereux estate on house arrest where your mother would kill you.   Oh god. It’s death either way.   “Are the sweets not to your liking?”   It takes a second for you to register that the King is looking at you. That he’s speaking to you.   You go wide-eyed, realizing you haven’t had a bite of the cakes, the biscuits or sipped on any tea. You’ve completely tuned out their conversation. But he’s been watching you and Jungkook from the corner of his eye, assessing your interactions closely.    Your palms go clammy as you open your mouth before closing it.    “She’s just shy,” your dad swiftly informs with a polite smile. It’s a complete lie, but one the royal monarch believes.   “Ah. We shouldn’t bore them with adult talk then.” The man turns to his son. “Jungkook, why don’t you go off and play with Anastasia here?”   “Okay,” he mumbles and slides off his chair.   You follow suit, a bit relieved that you were dismissed from the overly formal atmosphere.   The two of you go deeper into the gardens until the gazes of your father and the King’s fade from view. Jungkook is wearing a white ensemble with a cape which he dirties with the way he’s kicking rocks in his path. He seems burdened that you’re beside him.   “What do you like playing?” he asks.   You’re perplexed on how to answer. You’re not sure how you should play with an actual seven year old. Then again, you like to run away from the maids and swing your sword around on your down time. But that’s just because you like their reactions.   “Sword fighting.”   Jungkook blanches as if he just bit into a lemon. “What kind of girl plays with swords?”   Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with an urge to kick the royal prince right in his shin.    But as the annoyance floods you, an epiphany comes along with it — if you can’t avoid Jungkook, maybe it’s time to switch strategies. Maybe you can start sowing the seeds of your future survival right here, right now. If one day, he’ll be condemning you of countless crimes and looking down at you as an evil villain, maybe you can turn his perception in the opposite direction.   Harmless. Overbearingly nice. Arrows that practically point ‘I’M NOT A THREAT WHATSOEVER!’.    You’re a genius.   You force the highest pitched giggle you can. “Really?”   Jungkook kicks another rock. “Girls have flimsy arms and trip every time you touch them.”   Ah. The ancient version of: girls have cooties and so you should stay away from them. Alright, alright. You can work with this.   “What do you like playing, Your Highness?”   “Anything that’s not with girls.”   You pause and laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound too stiff.   Jungkook suddenly lifts his head and turns to you with the swivel of his heel. You stop as well and his index finger juts right in your face. “Since I’m the prince, I’ll have mercy on you. We can play servant and king.”   “What’s servant and king?”   “I’m the king.” His thumb pokes himself and then he’s back to pointing right between your eyes again. “You’re the servant. You have to follow me and all my orders or off with your head!”   What a little shit.   How is this going to be any fun for you?!   But you draw an enormous grin on your face, left eye twitching in the process. “Sounds like fun, Your Highness!”   He strolls off. “Let’s go, dumb dumb.”   Your teeth grit and you inhale a deep breath. It hurts your pride to be insulted by a literal seven year old, but you can handle it. When it comes to life or death, you’ll easily befriend the hero.   “Fetch that stick, peasant!”   The prince points at the distance and looks at you expectedly.   Your teeth grit. But you muster a smile and dash forward.   When it comes to life or death, you’ll befriend the hero……….probably.   “Here you go, Your Highness.”   You present the stick to him with both hands and the brat smirks. A rush of air leaves his nose and then he takes the stick. You’re not sure what to expect, but your entire body freezes when he hurls it as far as his arms can go. He points between your brows a second later. “Go get it!”   Motherfucker. “Yes!”    Once Jungkook’s tired of having you fetch like a dog, you trail after him closely. The green hedges are triple your size, acting like corridors of the garden before they open up to certain areas filled with beds of flowers or a fountain. Some paths are unpaved, so you listen to the crunch of rocks underneath his shoes amidst the quiet.    When you’re not out of breath and running at his command, it finally sinks in that it’s the first time you’re with a main character of the game. For the seven years of this lifetime thus far, there was only really you. Your parents were supporting characters at best who just took the opportunity to slyly diss the main heroine a few times at royal gatherings. But other than that, you’re currently facing the backside of someone you know a lot about.   Who he will become. What his future holds. What his desires are.   You pipe up, “Prince Jungkook—”   “That’s Your Highness, peasant!”   You clench your jaw. “Your Highness…”   “What?”   You quicken your steps until you’re beside him and he turns his head. “I’ll support you forever if you want to fall in love with anyone! I don’t care about being the crown princess or the queen!”    For good measure, you flash a wink and a thumbs up.   “What?” His boyish face is twisted up in disgust. “Why would a peasant be a queen?”   You hold in your sigh. “I’m just saying. If we ever get engaged or something, it can always be annulled when we’re older. So feel free to love on, Your Highness. Make love, not war!”   Your words completely fly over Jungkook’s head.   His face reads that he has no clue what you’re talking about.   And he turns away from you. “You’re weird.”   You scoff.    You’re not sure how you can become friendly with a seven year old when you’re internally twenty years older than he is. If you had chocolate on you, you’d use that as a bargaining chip. But clearly, you only have your body, brain and the surroundings at the moment….   What do seven year old boys like?   What do they like?   As you scan your surroundings, your eye catches something in the bushes. You stop and get closer.   At the same time, Jungkook realizes you’re not following him anymore and turns around. “What are you doing, peasa—” His words are cut short by a shrill shriek of absolute terror.   Your brows furrow and you thrust your hand closer to him. “It’s a ladybug.”   The tiny red and black polka dotted bug is crawling in your hand. Jungkook screams again.   He’s stumbling back, nearly tripping onto his butt, doe eyes reflected with complete horror as if you just chopped off his mom’s head. “Get that thing away from me!” his voice cracks up and down two different octaves and realizing his weakness, you grin.   You know your plan was to seem as harmless as possible, but it’s just too much fun teasing him.   “What thing, Your Highness? Your servant is merely showing you a small forest creature.”   “No! Stop!”   He scrambles and starts running away.   You chase after him while giggling manically. “Prince Jungkook! Where are you going!”   “Get the bug away from me!”   He turns over his shoulder with eyeballs nearly falling out of their sockets, face bright red, and you take the opportunity to toss the ladybug at him. Jungkook’s shrieks echo, pitched and earsplitting.   You’re forced to stop with how hard you’re laughing and by then, he’s ran for the hills, completely gone from sight.   Oh god. You can’t believe he’s so scared.    You can’t believe you were so scared — he’s just a kid.   Your giggles taper off as you wander the gardens by yourself. It’s freeing to stroll at your own pace without a brat demanding you to fetch sticks or barking at you to do this and that. It’s a chance to finally admire the surroundings.   You’re sure the first time Anastasia saw the castle, it became her dream home. The place is similar to the aesthetic background graphics of the game and it was always described as beautiful by all the characters. And it really is that way.   But this is also the place of her demise and possibly yours.    You’re sure the only time you’ll be able to enjoy the palace and be this carefree is right now.   You’re admiring the blooming carnations, peony and roses as you turn the corner. The figure standing by the sprouting fountain doesn’t register until after a delayed moment and your eyes lift to see a woman — mysterious in her gray dress. It’s simple attire, but the fabrics are layered on top of one another, light enough that they drape down and flow to the breeze. Her brunette hair is tied into a bun and as if she feels the pressure of your eyes, her bright irises turn towards you.   You realize you’re staring and you blink several times, approaching her politely.    She pulls her charcoal shawl closer to her and smiles. The light wrinkles around her kind eyes crease. “Are you lost, child?”   You shake your head. “No. I’m just looking.”   She crouches down to match your height, gazing at you tenderly. “Where are your parents?”   “My dad’s talking to the King.” You point off in the distance as curiosity eats at you. She doesn’t look like an ordinary worker but not a visitor of the castle either. “I’m Anastasia.”   She searches your expression as if she’s endeared by you. “That’s a beautiful name.”   “Thanks! Who’re you?”   She’s soft-spoken, voice above a quiet murmur, “My name is Erena Robane.”   You frown. The name rings a bell. “Lady Robane?”   “No.” Her laugh tinkles. “I’m no lady.”    Before you can press your mind any further and pick apart your brain at why her name sounds so familiar, she reaches into the small pouch she was carrying and hands you a wrapped piece of candy. “Would you like one?”   Your eyes light up at the pink square. “Yes, please!”    You know better, as an internal twenty seven year old, than to take candy from strangers, but the Duke and Duchess never give you any sweets. So you’ll happily take what you can.   Erena smiles and drops the treat into your outstretched palm.   Not wanting to risk getting it confiscated by Edith, Joan or your mother if you brought it home, you quickly unwrap it and throw it into your mouth. It’s peppermint and it’s pretty damn good.   The woman looks at you patiently, waiting for a reaction, so you give her a thumbs up and a “Yummy!”   She laughs faintly. “Do you like candy?”   “Yep!” You hold out both hands as if you’re trick-or-treating. “Can I have another one, please?”   Might as well seize the chance while you can. It’s a dog-eat-dog world.    “You have very good manners.” She smiles, taking another out of her endless pouch and dropping it in your hand. Oh man, you’re starting to really like this lady. “My son likes chocolate, but I only managed to get candy for today.”   You chew the hard candy in your cheek, crunching down on it. You hope it rots your teeth and makes Edith’s life a living nightmare when she has to deal with it. “Your son?”   Her lips part to speak. But she’s interrupted—   “Mom?”   By sheer coincidence and coincidence itself, a boy with floppy, brown hair turns the corner of the garden. Thin lips, but chubby cheeks and bright eyes of deep mocha. You’ve known him the second your eyes have laid on him. A younger form of the person you fear most.   Taehyung.   You gasp and immediately spin around, hoping he didn’t see you, pretending you didn’t see him.   “I have to go now!”    Before Taehyung’s mom can utter another word, you run away. You don’t notice how Taehyung slows as well, brows furrowed at your receding form.   To see Jungkook is one thing. But to see Taehyung, the one who will use, coerce and lead you to your doom, is another. Jungkook handed down your judgment, but Taehyung is the one who led you there.   He’s the villain.   //   “You did decently,” your mother informs a few days after the whole affair. “We might have to go to the palace more often from now on.”   You nod, unable to dwell in her approval, mind still lost in a daze.    Taehyung — a half prince born a year before Jungkook. He has the blood of a royal with his father as the King, but his mother is merely a palace maid. You remember that he seeks revenge for her death after she’s poisoned by the jealous Queen.   But if she’s still alive, that means it’ll happen soon.   This year.    Springtime.    You’re slowly recalling the details of the event, the catalyst that begins Taehyung’s descent into madness, how he became the game’s villain. But you can’t involve yourself. You just can’t.   You shouldn’t have met any of them in the first place.   You shouldn’t get entangled in their story, in their lives. If you want to live, if you want to survive, you have to avoid Taehyung at all costs. So you can’t. You can’t. Can’t.   A day passes as you focus on your studies.   You can’t.   Another two days goes by, six meals eaten.   Can’t—   On the seventh, your silver spoon clanks noisily against the porcelain bowl, slipping from your grasps, dropping downwards in your deep trance that throbs your temples. Joan turns at the ruckus and you look at her, already standing up.   “I have to go to the castle.”   The guilt eating at you has won its battle.    “Pardon me?”   “Today. Right now.” You rush out of the room and down the hall, determination set in your strides. Maybe you can avoid this. Maybe if you do, he won’t become the game’s villain. Then he won’t be a threat to you, and you won’t be a threat to anyone. You’ll live and so will his mom who’s done nothing wrong.   The maid struggles to catch up to you. “My lady! Please! Wait! What do you mean?”   “I forgot something really important!”   “Y-You can’t just go. My lady! You must ask permission from the Duke and Duchess!”   “There’s no time to.” You’ve never been more serious and somber. There isn’t an inch of mischief, no childish selfishness. Twenty seven years has amounted to this very moment. And you use your status as the Duke’s daughter to command the girl. “Come with me. If the Duke or Duchess gets mad, I’ll take the blame.”   Joan sighs, annoyed as she looks around as if someone else could reason with you. But as you turn to her, looking her dead in the eye, she shifts on her feet and hesitantly calls for a carriage.   You’re in it before you can blink again.   There must be time. There hasn’t been any news yet. No reports of a death in the castle.   You can warn him. You can avoid this tragedy.    “We’re here, my lady,” Joan informs, peering out the window at the enormous stone walls and towers looming high above the clouds. The carriage doors open and she guides you out.    Your feet land onto the cobblestone.    But there isn’t any welcome. No guards that ask what your business here is. No servant passing by.   Instead, there’s chaos in the distance.    Your head whips to the noise and Joan shouts as you dash off towards it. Yet no one notices you in the midst of the pandemonium. No one would pay mind to a small child. You’re left to linger in the open halls, butlers that quickly walk past, maids whispering amongst themselves—   “Did you hear?”   Your head turns towards two girls.   “The King’s mistress just died!”   You came a moment too late.

No one cries.   The arrangement is short and unluxurious, the bare minimum of what would be acceptable for a royal family. A priestess in front drones on impassively about the afterlife, but as you look around, no one grieves. After all, they wouldn’t shed tears for a mere maid.    This is merely a charade to quell away scandalous rumors and to give nobles an excuse to come to the castle and be acknowledged.   You’re overwhelmed in black, a tulle skirt and puffed sleeves. Your parents stand on either side of you, your father in a jacket with the house’s emblem and your mother with a veil covering the right side of her face. Like many others, your family has come for appearance sakes.   But for you, it’s different.   The woman inside the closed casket has shown you a kindness that you so seldom receive.   And because of your hesitation, because of your self-preservation and selfishness, this happened.   Once the burial ceremony is over, your parents mingle amongst the nobles, laughing cordially behind gloved hands as you follow after them and cutesy. It feels like you’re a show pony, brought around to show what the future of the Devereux looks like.   But after a while, you manage to slip away from the scrutiny.    And by sheer coincidence and coincidence only, you find him.   At first it’s the noise of heart wrenching sobs. It’s unrestrained wails and choked hiccups in between that attracts your attention. You twist through the familiar hedge corridors and the moment you turn the corner, your eyes lift to a small figure underneath an oak tree.    He sits alone. He cries to himself.    The boy with floppy, brown hair has his knees pulled together. He incessantly rubs at his eyes as if that alone could stop the tears that well and pour. He cries enough for the tens of people at the funeral, substituting their apathy with his anguish. His entire body wracks and the moment he whimpers “m-mom” in-between, it’s shaking to your core.    This is the beginning. The start of his path of destruction.   In this entire castle that stretches across the horizon, only his mother ever loved him. The half-prince. The Forgotten Prince. The one dirtied by regular red blood, not blue enough for the golden crown.   Taehyung mourns, vision blurred by his grief.   But as he rubs his eyes with his small fists, black shoes appear between the gaps of his hands.   He looks up. Your arm is extended in front of him.    Taehyung looks down to your folded, pink handkerchief. He looks stunned for a moment, as if he’s surprised that there was someone here. That someone actually heard him. That someone came.   He takes your handkerchief and sniffles.   “I’m sorry,” you murmur.    Sorry that she passed away, that he has to endure this, that you didn’t save her when you could’ve.   This isn’t just a game you’re playing anymore. All these people aren’t just characters.   You’re living a new life. And all these people have emotions, desires, thoughts of their own.   You’re not sure how you can comfort Taehyung. What you can say to make it better. “Your mother loved you a lot. I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to be crying so much by yourself.”   He hiccups, snivelling uncontrollably. “B-But if I don’t cry for her, who will?”   You don’t know what to say.   Tears continue to slip down his cheeks and as you linger awkwardly, you decide there isn’t much that you can say. So you sit beside him. You sit underneath the canopy of the tree and branches of rustling leaves, on the soft bed of grass, looking out at the garden.    This is all you can do.   You don’t notice the way Taehyung looks up in-between his mourning, glossy eyes pinpointed on the profile of your face.    The pair of you sit next to one another in the silence of his sniffles until it levels. Until he can breathe again—   “Anastasia!”   There’s a sharp call of your name, one that can only belong to your mother. You immediately come to your feet again as if a dog whistle has been blown. But as you hurry away, you turn over your shoulder. Your eyes connect with Taehyung’s brown ones, and for a moment you slow.   You leave a second later.   You twist down the hedges and turn the corner, nearly bumping straight into her. She looks down at you with her brows furrowed. “Where did you go?”   You smile. “I got lost.”   It’s futile. You know it now.   Trying to avoid the three that will lead you to your demise is like trying to wish you’d suddenly vanish off these lands. You know it won’t be the last time that you see Taehyung. It won’t be the last of Jungkook either. Or whoever the heroine will be. It seems like the more you try to run, the more you inadvertently become involved. But you’ll hold your head up high and face whatever is to come head on.

(Censoring words solely because I’m not sure the word itself can be used on tumblr.)

T/W Mentions of p*dos

T/W Mentions of gr**ming

Tldr: As a CSA Survivor, voicing concerns of things I have heard people talk about on these topics in online spaces that does more damage than good to victims, survivors, and minors. I am only one voice, so please listen to all csa survivors, victims, and minors about this topic.

I don’t speak for everyone who is a CSA Survivor. We all have different experiences and feelings, some things may be less triggering or concerning for some more than others. Other CSA Survivors feel free to talk about your own feelings, experiences, and things you wished others knew as well since every CSA Survivor’s voice should be heard, not just my own.

These are my thoughts and some of the grievances I’ve had, the invalidation of my trauma, the things that have triggered back the trauma I thought I was able to heal so long ago, and I’m tired of it.

P*dophilia is not a term where you can just throw it around at anyone and everything. Be mindful where and how you use it. Do not let the severity of this word go down. It is not a joke. It is not some fun trendy buzzword. It is not a topic just for fictional media. It is a serious issue that harms so many children in the world.

Do not invalidate the trauma of victims by focusing on just fictional characters. Reporting fictional content as CP is not as helpful as you think. Investigators are on the look out to help save real children. Putting thousands of fanart/fanfics of fictional characters at the top of their feed lets p*dos hide easier and thus causes real children to still be trapped in their situation. If the fanart/fanfics is of real minors though, action should be taken.

You need to be a protector for real children. Learn the warning signs. Learn the prevention. Learn how to act if a real child has been harmed so you can help them. If you just treat it as a joke and use the word willy nilly on things that it does not actually pertain to it is immensely performative, makes it harder for investigators to find true perpetrators, and thus only hurts more kids than helps.

Clothing ≠ p*dophilia

Jfashion such as lolita and fairy kei is not p*dophilic or p*do-baiting. I don’t know why this has become the trend to call it that.

When you say this it sounds like victim blaming. “Well it’s what they wore.” Which is terrible. If you think wearing “childish” clothing is inherently sexual YOU are very much the problem.

Clothing is not what grabs p*dos attention. Clothing doesn’t do anything. It is a self expression for the wearer and that is it. For p*dos, it is the child themself they’re grossly invested in, not the clothes.

If you look at the origin of jfashion styles such as lolita, one part of the meaning is the resistance of sexualizing a person’s body. It also has nothing to do with the book so, stop equating them as the same.

Watching kid tv shows or movies, playing kid friendly video games, owning plushies or other kid toys ≠ p*dophilia

If you see an adult who is into movies/shows, toys, games made for kids chances are it could possibly be a CSA Survivor and this is their coping mechanism as a way to heal. To reclaim what was taken from them. Giving back to that inner child that never got the chance to live it. Even if they are not a CSA survivor, it could be an adult finally getting that doll they’ve wanted since they were little but could never get. Giving back to their inner child in that way. For me personally, KH is part of this for me. It has been my coping mechanism/safe haven since I was little. It is something I know I can always go back to that doesn’t bring harm to me. It’s an escapism from trauma and anxiety.

Height differences ≠ p*dophilia

An adult who is shorter than their significant other who is also an adult is not p*dophilia. A short adult is not “minor-coded.” They are just a short adult. A taller adult liking a shorter adult does NOT mean they like children. Joke or not this is inappropriate. Some adults just are not able to grow taller then others, so it feels like you are infantilizing a whole group of adult short people just because of their height. Not only that, but for survivors this can make them second guess their appropriate and safe relationships they have even more, which for some CSA Survivors it is already so hard to trust to begin with, this then can make them further associate even more things and people with their trauma that never needed to be and can cause further ptsd reactions.

A minor dating a minor one month/year younger/year older than them ≠ p*dophilia

This undermines the severity of what p*dophilia is. P*dophilia is an adult person who sexually fantasizes about, exhibits inappropriate and sexual behavior towards, has urges towards, and/or arousal towards minors. They are a sex offender/m*lestor as well if they act on those urges on a child. Thus becoming CSA.

This part is ONLY talking about minor + minor relationship: As cited from DSM-5 (wiki that has excerpt) “A person must be at least 16 years and at least 5 years older than the prepubescent child, for the attraction to be diagnosed as p*dophilia.” A 15 year old dating a 16 year old is not p*dophilia. If a 15 year old did inappropriate and non-consensual things to another minor the same age as, slightly younger than themself, or older than themself, that 15 year old would be more towards being called a juvenile/adolescent sex offender. Don’t use these terms willy nilly either, they are severe words too. Do not use them lightly for fun internet jargon.

In regards to fandom spaces. Just because someone on the internet labels themselves as something specific, does not mean this person can’t be a p*dophile based off of whatever the label is. You must always be careful with whom you interact with. They very well could be under the guise of feigning innocence and pointing fingers away from themself. Some may pretend to be one or the other and self-proclaim themself as the “good” adult. And HEAVILY emphasize this all the time. Which for me often raises a warning flag. Especially if they are in heavy contact with minors on a daily basis. Be always careful with anyone you interact with online no matter what they label themself as. You do not know who is behind the screen, so exercise extreme caution with the information you give to anyone, even if an account labels themselves as the same age as you. It could be someone pretending to be the same. Having a father who is a p*dophile, I can say, these gross people want to blend in. They’re going to feign innocence. They want to be in your line of trust. They may say things like “you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not that group of people” or “don’t trust them, trust me.” Be aware of the signs of gr**ming. This is a first tell tale sign that someone could be harmful. Some examples of warnings signs an be found here.

LGBTQIA+ ≠ p*dophilia

While there may be people who happen to be LGBTQIA+ that are a p*do, that does NOT mean everyone who is LGBTQIA+ is one. The community makes it explicitly clear that MAPS/p*dophiles are NEVER welcome in the community. It is harmful to associate them with the community too.

P*dophiles can be anywhere. In my my own experience, mine was my own father. They are in the most obvious spot and invisible to other’s eyes. They will if not often, be someone who has gained yours and other’s trust and preys heavily off of it. Such as a family member, a teacher, a doctor, a family friend, etc… They hide under this guise because what is the first thing anyone says? “Oh it couldn’t possibly be them. I know them. They’re good.”

I get wanting to know all the facts before putting a label such as p*dophile on someone. I get that some people do fake saying they were abused. I get it. When there’s a huge amount of evidence of someone being nefarious with children though, you can’t keep hiding from that truth and you need to stop supporting that person. Continuing to support those perpetrators just tells other scummy P*dos that as long as they’re well-liked enough, they too can get away with it. This only harms more children then helps.

Please put “T/W”s if you mention p*dophilia. CSA Survivors have different triggers and seeing the topic brought up willy nilly in spaces without it can be very harmful and may cause ptsd. Please be respectful to us all. Do not make a joke out of all of our suffering.

I’ve made a linktree of information on warnings signs, what to do, hotlines for victims, and more. Take action to protect real kids not just the fictional ones. That is all I ask: https://linktr.ee/CSA_Prevention_and_Help

Amnesia (Jaehyun x reader)

tw : amnesia, crazy parents, drunk driver accident, failed attempt to write an angst

a/n : hello, so I read this work I left since December 2020 but yeah I read this and turns out I want to know if this is interesting enough to have another chapter to finish the story or not. If not then it's okay I'll just leave it here, but if you're curious I can try work it out.

tagging @charmingyong @neopalette .. @yutahoes and @swagmonsterofficial who can probably help me with the writer's block . you too readers. help me finish this story :))) thxxx

The thing you fear the most in this life is the day where you lost your memories. Memories of everything important in your life. You've been so afraid of not remembering things, mostly because the doctrine of your parents planted inside your brain.

"Look at your brother, Doyoung, he aces all of his tests, have time to do sports, sings well, proper manners, and always practicing doing his best. You too should think of being like him."

For sixteen years you're always compared to him. For sixteen years you worked your brain off to memorize extended classes you were forced to take. For sixteen years you faked your identity in order to look smart. For sixteen years you pray with all your might nothing bad will happen to you that involves a reset button to your brain.

That day happened, on your last year of high school where you've prepared yourself for the national entrance test. You've forced your brain to memorize everything, maximizes all you know since young age, and even pushed your other desires aside (not that it is new, you never put your desire first)

You start preparing it one year prior

"Don't go too hard (y/n)... I know you can do this," your boyfriend (secret boyfriend) calls you when he checks on you.

"Oh Jaehyun-ah, as much as I want to slack off there is no way I'll live in peace if I score lower than Doyoung's." You reply him as you flip through some sets of questions.

Jaehyun sighs from the other end of the call "And your brother scored perfect?"

You hum "Actually yes he did."

"Did your parents really love you? Why are they torturing you this way... I remember playing when I was younger and yet I made it to this stage." The young future psychologist boasted.

Jaehyun is actually the same age as your brother, he is Doyoung's friend and he knew you from visiting Doyoung back then in high school. He secretly learns about your name and even your number, since then he's been calling you and giving you all the love, you could never get from your family.

"I study psychology and what they're doing is not good." Jaehyun lays down on his bed. As much as he questions himself why he wanted to date you he can't answer it.

His friends had been telling him to break up with you because you're just going to make his life hard since your parents went too hard on you. But his heart screams that he needs to help this little girl he secretly feels bad. Jaehyun saw you sitting on your room sticking your nose to a book he thought was a middle school's book... when you were just graduating elementary. He was pretty sure you're not happy and even Doyoung secretly spills the hidden feeling that he doesn't like seeing his sister treated that way.

He remembers the conversation he had with his bestfriend on that summer vacation

"Make it stop then Doyoung..." jaehyun said as he played with a soccer ball inside the big room.

Doyoung sighed "I tried Jae, but mom and dad didn't seem to listen. They just told me they wanted the best for (y/n) and that by pushing her she'll find her way to be successful."

Jaehyun snorted "Gosh I'm glad my parents are not like yours."

Doyoung massaged his nose bridge "I even tried messing up my scores, but I earned myself detention and she was told to never be like me. Look I tried rebelling, but they're not fazed."

Jaehyun rolled his eyes "Want to escape to my house? Take (y/n) too maybe..."

Doyoung buried his face on his hands "Oh I wish Jae! I am also hating this, but I'll be dead and if this involves (y/n) I'm double dead because," Doyoung fixed his posture and mimicked his parents "Doyoung you're the brother here, a gentleman will always protect a lady and (y/n) is your sister and she's a girl."

"Damn it. Jae, I need that scholarship!" Doyoung groaned.

Jaehyun nodded "The one offering a seat in USA? Go for it. I didn't see why you hesitated... with that brain you didn't need to study and still get perfect."

Doyoung went silent for a minute "But won't I just make her life harder? Who will help her if I am not here?"

Jaehyun snickered "As if you have been helping her at all... take that chance. I'll look after (y/n) she's already like my little sister."

Doyoung couldn't thank Jaehyun enough when he hugged his friend before leaving to the states.

Doyoung hugged you too and secretly whispered "Jae is my substitute, please please promise me you will be honest with him and tell him whatever you're feeling. I'll see you in the states! Girl this is your chance to leave the dark alley." Doyoung wiped your tear that left your eyes. Well Your brother has been secretly sneaking from his room to teach you things you still cannot understand when you're younger. He kept on apologizing for the situation you both live in... but you can't totally blame him too. In this life if someone asked you who were the most important person, you'll say it's Doyoung then Jaehyun.

In the meantime

"Look Jae, I need that scholarship... Doyoung is waiting for me. He's been telling me life is not that gloomy." You sound so hopeful and Jaehyun doesn't want to spoil your small happiness.

He sighs "Fine, you've learned enough! Please a good rest is also important."

"Yeah yeah say that to my parents and see if you got slapped." You giggled and Jaehyun noted that. Well he had been noting your behaviour too and planned to make you his first journal subject.

"Look I love you okay, don't tire yourself too much. Drink water, stay healthy and sleep." He bids you goodbye and little did you know that was probably the last night you could sit in your room and absorbed new materials inside your brain.

For the next day when you got home from school, you never made it back home. You did not remember anything, only a loud horn and your body hitting the asphalt. Your ear rang and your eyes went dark.

Your parents were crying when they heard the news of you getting hit by a car and it was a drunk driving accident. Jaehyun left his class when Doyoung texted him about you. Well Doyoung was called in the middle of the night and he was more than broken hearted to hear this.

Jaehyun was shocked when he heard the news, but he was more shocked when he sees your parents are there weeping like how parents love their children so much and super afraid of losing them.

He wonders why they would treat you so strict if they love you this much. Well some people say that is their way of showing love, but for rational people Jaehyun disagree how hard your parents were on you and your brother.

Your mother recognized Jaehyun and explained everything that happened.

Jaehyun's heart broke when the paramedics informed them on the next day that you got the amnesia.

Your parents cried maybe because it is the natural way to act, but Jaehyun's world collapsed when he remembered you telling him the worst thing you fear is waking up with a blank brain.

It took you some days to wake up from your coma, considering that you also had some broken bones and some operations are done on your body, Jaehyun's glad you woke up four days after the accident.

He saw it the first time you open your eyes and you squinted all around he saw the slight tremble you had in your eyes.

Though he's not sure if you have amnesia you could remember fearing this to happen, but he believed your heart remembered this fear and showed how scared you are.

The doctor ran the first test and you happened to know basic things like your name and at least your parents. You know their faces but not their names and Jaehyun, it took you some time but the glint of hope in your eyes was enough to let Jaehyun feels not left out.

"Jae" you whisper, and the doctors were delighted when you could mention his name.

Your parents were crying, feeling super sad that their daughter had to go through this but once you got a time alone with Jaehyun you couldn't cry nor can you laugh.

"Jae," that is all you can think of.

You move your hands and find them fascinating. Jaehyun wanted to cry, it's as if you're a baby discovering new things you can do again. This is the same girl who understand chemistry even when she's just eleven! The girl who speaks five languages fluently, the same girl who can play the hardest piano piece, the same girl who was forced to be perfect and she did it she was perfect but she lost everything she worked super hard for.... within one blink of an eye. For the first time after several years, Jaehyun cried his heart out in silence alone in his bedroom.

For two months you were on a therapy session to regain your memories and some of them are coming back. Jaehyun took a break on his school, saying he is doing a research (well he didn't lie) but mostly because he needs to and wants to take care of you. He didn't want your parents to ruin this golden chance of him fixing you (he wishes)

"Name?" Jaehyun asks every time he visited you. You could answer that easily "(y/n)"

"Siblings?" You could also answer that "Doyoung."

It took you sessions to find a trigger word that could bring more memories back.

"Books?" The doctor once asked and you blanked out. Your body shakes and the traumatic experience of being forced to read from a young age came into you.

"Books?" The therapist asks again when you kept quiet. Jaehyun sits next to you, holding your hand and he frowns when your grip tightens.

"Hell." Was all you say before clenching your fist and holding your head from throbbing so much.

You woke up on your private room already Jaehyun happens to be writing down the notes from today's session.

"I saw some memories Jae. What month is this?" You asked out of the blue

"No don't ask me questions. Rest (y/n)" Jaehyun tried to divert your attention.

"Month Jae!" You scream and right on time a nurse came in she heard your question and easily answered “November?"

You count and stared in horror "The test... 8 months left Jae! How can I memorize what I've learnt since baby to now?!"

The nurse was surprised maybe by your burst of words or just surprised by your sentence and Jaehyun shot her a dead glare.

She quickly changed your IV and left after seeing your panic stage.

You were shaking, nerves suddenly transmitting traumatic memories and you cried when you tried to remember everything you've worked super hard on... gone with one accident.

"(Y/n) calm down. Forget that! forget that test! You need to heal yourself first." Jaehyun holds you back from your panic attack.

Your parents saw you frantically shake on your bed with Jaehyun trying his best to calm you down. They ran to your side and when they heard what you said, their heart broke and for the first time your parents realized they've been doing the wrong thing to you.

"Mother is sorry, please (y/n).. honey" she cried... if your mind is right, you'll choke up for she never calls you sweet names, but you have no recollection of that, "honey please forget that test. Forgive me and dad for being too hard on you. Please my one and only precious daughter... just heal yourself first. You don't have to take the test now. Calm down."

Actually, Jaehyun finally talked to your parents, he talked politely about the way your parents raised both you and Doyoung in a wrong way. No, he didn't blame your parents for wanting the best, he just told them they shouldn't be comparing child and shouldn't put too much force on something one doesn't like. He explained the effect you had growing up like that and your mom was crying when she heard Jaehyun's easy explanation.

"We're sorry... now how do we fix this?" Your mother asked to the young man across him.

"If you let me, this is a new blank page. Like a reset button, though (y/n) might get fragments of the dark memories, but we can at least rewrite the pages and put in more love and joy into her life."

Your parents both agreed and let Jaehyun does his best to fix their mistakes.

So here you are, sitting on your bed for the third month already, mind still somehow fuzzy and you always stare at your room with blank face. You noticed the plain walls and when you arrived at your home, the grand piano greeted you, but you were confused of the big thing.

"Hey (y/n)," Jaehyun greets you when he comes into your room, "Hungry?" He asks first thing first after you wake up.

You nod your head and notice the lack of food on his hand.

"No breakfast?" Your face shows confusion.

Yes you were eating breakfast on bed for one month, mostly because your doctor also told you to not use your legs too much, but Jae saw it is quite the time you learn to walk and eat properly.

"There is, but not here. Come, we will eat properly." Jaehyun helps you stand, and he walks you to the dining table.

There you sit down, eyes empty as you scan the room, still unable to remember where and what is this place.

Your maid comes with a plate of your favorite breakfast. You look at Jaehyun with expecting eyes, he usually sits on the side of your table and feeds you. All you have to do is wait for the food to come into your mouth!

"Jae?" You question him when he picks up his own knife and fork then he digs into his own plate.

You watch him and he speaks up "Copy me."

You pick up the fork and knife, take the detail and switch the position when Jaehyun shows the right way.

He sees you struggle with your knife still and chooses to cut it for you. He returns the plate with small chunks of eggs and sausages then pushes it back to you.

"Now, eat." He continues doing his activity and with trembling hand (because everything is like you learning from basic) and slow but steady you can eat by yourself.

Jaehyun smiles with adoration, he couldn't deny you're actually smart like gifted smart... he thought there was no way someone could live like you and Doyoung if they do not have a bright basic.

"Delicious?" Jaehyun asks after you finish your plate.

You nod "Thank you" and both your eyes and his open wide.

"Did I just say thank you?" You also sound surprised.

Jaehyun nods "I mean i haven't remind you about table manners, but as expected that big brain is not completely blank, I guess."

The day continues with Jaehyun teaching you some more basic knowledge, you sit down on the sofa and your eyes bore into the big grand piano. Jaehyun noticed ever since you came home you seemed super curious about it. He is not the best pianist, but he can play some songs.

"Come, I think you're interested in this." Jaehyun sits you on a chair beside the piano and he takes his seat.

"Okay I am not as good as you, but let's try this. maybe music can bring back my (y/n)." Jaehyun plays some keys to warm up his fingers and he didn't see the sudden surprise you have in your eyes.

Jaehyun plays a simple piece of your favorite sad song, Clair de Lune. He said he wasn't a great player, but here he is confidently playing one song from the master part.

You clap your hands astonished when he finishes half of the song and surprise him with what you say next.

"That is beautiful. Why did you stop?"

Jaehyun wants to scream, music brings you back? Did your brain forget everything else that is painful to you, but not music because it's the only thing you do with love?

"Want to try?" Jaehyun stands up and helps you get comfortable.

Your eyebrow knits together when you first eye the black and white keys and then after placing two hands over them and closing your eyes, as if it's muscle memories your finger expertly play the same piece Jaehyun showed you, but this time you finished the whole song.

Jaehyun has this recorded and if he knew this earlier, he would've made you sit here and play more music. He notes how your eyes glimmer when your fingers still remember the song and for once Jaehyun saw a willing to live in your eyes.

to be continued... (or not if this is not interesting to read :D)

tell me should I continue or not? and make this happy end or sad end?

石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 2

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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*Someone asked about Choujin X.

I: I’ve given the manuscript for chp 8. It’ll be released in a few days. I don’t really have much to say about this. I wanna write this month’s goals for Osushi. The big plan is to fix(?) chp 8. Then, I wanna release another two chapters this month. Chp 8 has 20 something pages. I want to at least draw the chapters in a weekly pace. What I mean by that is I wanna draw 72 pages per month. If I could draw 72 pages a month, I drew 18 pages per week during Weekly Young Jump too. So, I wanna draw 18 pages per week, which is 72 pages per month. That’s the amount of pages for weekly publication. It’d be nice if I could draw at least this much by myself. If I drew 25 pages weekly for three weeks, It’d have a total of 75 pages. I can currently get it done. If I updated 3 chapters a month, I’d have a total of 70-something pages per month. Then, nobody will complain. It’s not like anyone is complaining. It’s so that I won’t complain to myself. This is directed towards me as a challenge. Of course, it’s okay if I couldn’t do it. It doesn’t matter if I can or can’t, I thought it’s better to have a goal.

C: And the fact that you’re streaming right now is amazing!

I: Right? I spent a lot of time at the end of August doing rectifications, plotting, etc. They’re all important things to do. Since I have a little bit of free time, I thought of streaming.

C: It’s okay to draw the chapters slowly. Do you concern about maintaining the quality?

I: The quality is as usual. I mean, that’s one of the reason. It’s also to match the quality of the work. The drawing style in Choujin X is different, so of course the drawing will be different too. There are things that have changed. I want to match the vibe of the work, and also, I wanna prioritise speed over the quality. By speed, I don’t mean I wanna write them in a hurry. I want them to have a quality that’s easy to balance. I’m still playing around with it.

C: Until what chapters do you plan to release the physical copy?

I: I can just release it. I do have a plan for it, like releasing 2 volumes altogether.

C: I’m okay with anything as long as you don’t collapse later on.

I: You’re exactly right. I’m doing it with ease. So that the serialisation will go well, I’m adjusting my pace. This is just my ideal, but I wanna serialise another manga. It doesn’t have to be serialised, I have another stuff I wanna release. I’m finding the time to make one. If I make it a rule to do other things after I’ve done 75 pages per month, I don’t have to draw more. I could use the time to do other stuffs.

C: Don’t push yourself.

I: I’m not.

C: Are you overworking?

I: Not at all. I have many hands.

C: Did you play JJ?

I: I played the game like hell.

C: Is it easier to not have assisstants?

I: That’s a good question. This is kinda weird, people say that your work will progress more if you have more assistants, but that’s not the case. I did TG without knowing that. People will ask you to check on their works. So, the more the people, the more the workload. There’s probably an appropriate number of people you should have. 4 people would probably be enough during TG. But there were more people, like the helpers, but they did regularly help. It was quite a lot. I won’t be able to do my own work when there’s a lot of staffs. I don’t have assistants for choujin X so that I can do it with ease, and umm… It’s the fastest way for me. Of course, I do think the quality of the work will increase if there are staffs. I’m trying to see if I can speed up my work to a certain extent without having to check on others’ works and consider about other people, while creating the quality contents I’m capable of.

C: Working alone or with assistants finish faster?

I: It depends on the stuffs you’re making. For choujin x, I think it’d be hard for me to draw them if I had assistants. It’ll be great if we can have divisions.

C: Are you gonna hire a care assistant? (t/n: The Japanese word is Meshistant, which means assistant who mainly takes care of the mangaka’s meal, chore, etc. So, I just put it as care assistant.)

I: Definitely no. I didn’t let my assistants do the chore. I even cleaned the toilet myself. I kinda hate it. I hate the label they give to such people. Meshistant. I don’t like people who call them that. I don’t mean you. I probably won’t be fond of mangakas who use that word. They’re your staffs, right?

C: Do you think of the story all by yourself?  

I: Yeah. Sometimes I do get ideas from my surrounding. But, most of it came from mine.

(t/n: I’m not sure if the last sentence is correct. I couldn’t really understand what he meant, but it’s something like that.)

C: I’m having a hard time to sleep. Recommend ways for me to sleep well.

I: Probably read books. It can make your eyes feel tired. Then, maybe by not sleeping? But you might think it’s better to sleep. I understand. I wanna keep trying to fall asleep, but then I’ll watch movies while lying down. I have trouble sleeping lately. I used to sleep a lot.

C: Meshistant is also an honourable job.

I: Then, why not just hire people who specialised in that. Like housekeepers. They have that, right? Something like a home helper. That is better, isn’t it? Using assistants who’re enthusiastic to draw manga to do stuffs like that is awkward for me.

*Someone commented about hiring maid.

I: Maid? Then, I’d like that. Hahaha. Should I hire a maid? I’m recruiting maids.

C: Even at the age of 250,000, you still have trouble falling asleep.

I: Yeah.

C: Are they hired to make meals?

I: Yeah. There’s various types of assistant in the manga industry. This one refers to an assistant in charge of meals.

I: What did I wanna talk about? Oh yeah, about Animal Rap. I’m thinking whether or not I should upload animal rap video during stream, but where is the file? I’ve decided to upload it after this stream ends. What was it that I wanna talk about? Can you tell me about my current status, such as about the Sui exhibition in Osaka and Nagoya, or about Ms. Towada’s illustrations?

C: How about a live rap?

I: Good idea.

C: About the plan for 30,000 subscribers.

I: That’s right 2x. We’re talking about what to do to celebrate 30,000 subscribers.

C: I can be your maid for free.

I: I’ll definitely pay you. If it’s for free, then you won’t feel your sense of duty. I’ll give a huge salary and pressure you so that you’ll work responsibly.

C: Ms. Towada can both write novels and draw. Amazing!

I: I also can. Hahaha. I also…ah, but I can’t write novels. I won’t lose to her.

C: Do you have double eyelids.

I: Mine is hidden one.

C: Appear in First Take.

I: I won’t.

C: Are your eyelashes long?

I: Yes. My eyelashes are long, I have hidden double eyelids, I am of medium build…but I’m already worn-out.

(t/n: He used the word ‘boroboro’. I couldn’t really find the proper word to translate it in this context. Worn-out is the only one I could think of that suits the context.)

C: Are you handsome?

I: Well…I’m pretty good looking.

C: Have you been going to the gym?

I: No, I haven’t, since I was busy with work. I wanna go though.

C: I wanted to go to Mr. Kunimitsu’s concert.

I: Me too.

C: Which one is more handsome? You or Kaneki?

I: Wouldn’t that be Kaneki?

C: How about another stream with Ms. Towada?

I: I re-listened to the stream with Ms.Towada. For some reason, she was laughing a lot in the stream. Though she always like that. It’s slightly embarrassing. She’s acting like she’s at home. It felt like she’s disclosing my family situation, so it’s a bit..., but I can do that again from time to time. When I wanna do something related to JJ, then I’ll call her. That’s the most suitable content.

*Someone asked him to invite his younger sister.

I: It’s impossible to invite my younger sister.

*People wanted Goubaru to be the guest.

C: Goubaru, huh?

C: Do you have someone you wanna invite?

I: No, I don’t. The corona is one thing, but I’m completely okay with not meeting people. I do talk to people I’m close with. I think that’s already enough. It’s not like I have someone I’m involved with. I do usually talk to Mr. Kunimitsu.

*People want Hanae Natsuki again.

I: Hanae? That’s definitely impossible.

*He’s talking about Japanese youtubers.

C: Can you beat boxing?

I: I’m practising at the moment.

*Currently taking about Japanese artists.

* Someone asked who he thinks could be the next popular artist.

I: Lately, I only listen to instrumentals. The one that I like recently is the girl band called Chai. The group’s vocalists are twins. The group is great. It’s not like I like the band because there’s someone who caught my intention. I listened to their songs first before I decided whether I liked them or not. I thought this kind of voice also exists.

C: Congrats for TG’s 10th anniversary.

I: Thank you. Thank you to Brazil as well. (t/n: Someone commented Brazil.)

*He pinned his Chai comment.

C: People who just came don’t understand what’s going on.

I: It’s okay if you don’t. Hehe.

C: Sensei, can you eat choco mint?

I: I can.

C: I thought the bgm was from Animal Crossing.

I: This is Yorushika’s Escape.

*Still talking about Japanese artists.

C: Have you seen Midsummer?

I: Yes, I have.

(t/n: He said something about the new evangelion movies. But I couldn’t really translate that part properly. He basically watched the Rebuild Evangelion movies from the start since he never watched it before. He planned to go to Yamaguchi prefecture, the birthtown of Evangelion’s author to watch the last movie.)

Y****: I’m reading Toro Hedoro! I recommend it!

I: I do read that. Don’t underestimate me! I do read One Piece as well, but half-way through.

C: You can watch the Evangelion movie on Amazon Prime.

I: I wanna watch the final movie at the cinema. Has the final movie come out? It has? But I’m still gonna watch at the cinema.

C: Have you read Tokyo Ghoul?

I: Nope.

C: I recommend Tokyo Ghoul!

I: Is that so? I have a story regarding TG, but it’s probably gonna be quite deep.

C: One Piece has reached 100 volumes!

I: That guy and Odacchi have reached 100 volumes, right? Hahaha. That guy is Luffy, while Odacchi is Oda sensei. Hahaha. I can’t call him that. Odacchi is Oda sensei and Kishikage is Kishimoto sensei. I see, that guy has reached 100 volumes? Way to go! Hahaha! No one is watching this anyway. I’ll properly lick his boots if he’s in front of me, since he’s the real deal. I’ll be very obedient and sucking up to him.

(t/n: Ishida was using the word ‘aitsu’ to refer Eichiro Oda. As far as I know, it’s an impolite way of calling someone older or in higher status than you in Japan.)

C: He’s scarier than Hikakin (a Japanese youtuber.)

I: Right. We are in the same industry after all. But I think Young Jump and Jump are different subsidiaries. Although, Hara sensei seems to have met with Odacchi, so maybe there’ll be an opportunity for me to meet him. But probably no. Someone like me won’t be able to meet Eichiro Oda sensei. I won’t meet him. He seems like a unique person.

*Ishida talking about an illustrator and youtuber called Saito Naoki.

(t/n: I couldn’t translate the first half of this part because they’re talking about something that had happened, and I don’t know the context of it.)

I: The name ‘Saito Naoki’ is very nice. Is it a pen name? It totally sounds like a real name though.

C: Are you close with Kishida Mel? (t/n: Kishida Mel is an illustrator and a character designer.)

I: I’ve never met him, but Kiyoppi, Kiyohara Hiro sensei and Melcchi are good friends. He’s like a friend of my friend. You have things like that, right? 

C: The name ‘Ishida Sui’ is cool!

I: I seriously wanna change my pen name. I wanna change to something like Gengoro. I wanna change to a manlier name. I didn’t give a thought about my name before. I used that name because I thought I was gonna be famous in the future, so I didn’t wanna use my real name. I seriously thought that I couldn’t become a mangaka if my real name was exposed. I was like “Since I’m gonna be famous, let’s avoid using my real name.” I was being vigilant about it, so I half-heartedly named my pen name.

I: The name Gengoro is nice. Tagami Gengoro. Tokyo Ghoul’s author, Tagami Gengoro. The Tokyo Ghoul’s author, Tagami Gengoro’s exhibition is now open. I’d definitely sounds like a bearded fatty. With round glasses to top it off. Isn’t Tagami Gengoro a character from a gay manga?

*Ishida searching for Tagami Gengoro.

I: Everyone, don’t search for it. I’m scared something dirty will appear. Is it not? Oh, it isn’t. what’s the name again? There is a character named something Gengoro, right? It’s Tagame Gengoroh! I got it now! Tagame Gengorohw as born in 1964 and a Japanese mangaka. He calimed himself to be a ‘Gay Erotic Artist’. This is the one! It’s Tagame Gengoroh sensei. 

*Ishida was looking at Tagame Gengoroh sensei’s illustrations.

I: This one. Wow, this is indeed gay! Hahaha.

C: I can’t believe it came out of your mouth.

I: Surprisingly, I do talk about these kind of stuffs. (t/n: I mean, he’s the man who wrote a whole R-18 chapter.)

I: So, I can’t use the name Gengoro, since there’s someone with this name.

C: Is the name ‘Ishida Sui’ an anagram of your Surname?

I: Yes, it is.

C: Are you gay?

I: Hahaha! Even if that’s true, you didn’t have to ask that kind of question! Let’s just say that I’m okay with both.

C: Kuso Miso. (t/n: Kusomiso is a gay manga.)

I: Of course, I’d be reading them (probably referring to gay manga). I mean, manga like Kuso Miso Technique are popular, right?

C: Ishida GayGoro.

I: Hahaha. That’s just gay.

C: You’ve been to a gay bar before, right?

I: Not at all. When I was hanging out with the staffs, Goubaru said he wanted to go to a Okama bar while crying.

(t/n: According to the internet, Okama is a term referring to guys who adapted female characteristics.)

C: I think it’s completely normal to be gay nowadays.

I: We’re talking about gay now. It’s not normal in the first place. It’s just a sexual orientation. If you pick on every little thing, everything will become a problem. Those who deliberately say they’re not prejudiced against gays are actually are. Even if you tell that to people, they’ll probably filter what they wanna say. They’d be conscious of every single thing they say. Things like that don’t matter.

C: Sensei, let’s talk about something else.

I: Why? I’m okay with it.

C: I’m bi.

I: Does it matter? It’s okay.

C: It’s difficult to say something regarding gender issues, right?

I: Well…It’s difficult, since it’s concerning your mindset. It doesn’t only apply to gender issues; you can hurt someone by making careless remarks.  It’s just that you sometimes accidentally let out your opinions. I also think I sometimes make unnecessary remarks, so I might do that.

C: I want to be embraced by Masataka Kubota. (t/n: Masataka Kubota is a Japanese actor who played as Kaneki in the live-action.)

I: That’s right. Must be nice. I want us to embrace each other.

Part 3

A Smattering of Ideas for a Neji Time-Travel Fic

[EDIT: okay so viewing the post on dash or sidebar blog completely ruins the bullet nesting for some reason. Please open it in a new tab.]

Okay so I actually wrote the first chapter or two of this like... almost a decade ago probably, but the concept was:

Neji, upon dying, gets sent back, and he's perfectly healthy again, pretty much exactly as he was just before getting mokuton-stabbed... except the seal damage wasn't reversed, so he's blind.

I think he ended up like riiiiiight before the Hyuuga Incident, so about of age with Kakashi & co.

But yeah like imagine telling Hiashi about it.

We have a new Jounin! It's a blind Hyuuga.

His seal is gone! He's technically your nephew.

He needs to be retrained for blindness! He needs to be protected for the information he carries.

He's a time-traveler!

Have fun.

The Hyuuga clan has like a million things going on but future Neji is just finding his younger self and Hinata to cuddle them.

He can't see shit but he Needs To Hug Baby Hinata

She's so small? She needs to be protected?

"Sir, you're blind now." "If Lee can be a ninja without chakra, I can be a ninja without eyes." "Sir. Sir that's--that's not the same thing, you can't--SIR." "I'll ask Hatake for advice." "He's still got half of his--SIR!"

Neji is a genius, if there's anyone who can pivot their entire fighting style from "I can see everything" to "I don't need to see anything" it's someone like him. Especially with the "I need to protect all these smols and be strong enough to force people to take my advice seriously if necessary" motivation

BUT But But for the first few days, it's just like. Sir. I understand you want to protect this small child, but you walked into three walls in the past hour. Please st--sir.

Fun option is "Neji spills all the beans... to Hiashi, not the Hokage."

Hiashi: Okay so like. Give me a few days to come up with a cover story for your existence. Neji: That's fair. Hiashi: Do. Do you want me to send in Hizashi or...? Neji: I'll tell him the truth if you do. Hiashi: That's, uh... that's fine. Neji: Then yes. Please. Hiashi, thoroughly unnerved for a variety of reasons: Right. I'll go do that.

Relevant: "Stop trying to convince me to put the Caged Bird Seal on a man who is already blind."

Since that's the ostensible reasoning of the seal, and like. You can't make that argument about keeping the eyes safe when the eyes don't... work.

Courtesy of @firebirdeternal​, along with a bunch of other stuff but especially this:

ooooh feels moment: Neji starts his retraining to become Strong Enough without his eyesight, guess who sees him working his ass off to overcome a disadvantage and thinks "Oh, there's a person I should Be Friends With!"

Part of me just went "Gai gets injured on a mission and, while waiting out his medical leave, gets assigned to Neji as a guide/sparring partner"

Or, well, not assigned. He's just doing one-armed pushups in the training yard with a cast on half his limbs after breaking out of the hospital and zeros in on Neji like "Ah yes, medically inadvisable training, a Bonding Activity!"

Neji goes from "I can see everything" to "I can't see shit but if you're within arms reach you're fucked"

A lot of it comes down to Neji building up non-Byakugan sensing abilities, I think?

It won't help him read, but it'll sure help him avoid getting punched.

I think that's really the crux of his New Style, however he works it out, instead of having this Massive Range of perfect perception he just trains his other senses until he still has that perfect perception effectively, just in like a two foot radius around his person

and then he goes full Rock Lee and trains speed and reaction time until that two feet is enough

I want Daredevil-style bitchiness at some point, in the "Okay, I'm sure the contract is lovely, but do you have it in braille, perhaps?" sense

And Toph-style stuff

Genma, in the Jounin lounge: "Hey guys I think I've got a design finished for the new tattoo I'm gonna get, what do ya'll think?" 'holds up scroll' Kakashi: "Why would you get a tattoo of an ugly couch?" Genma: "It's not an ugly couch it's the Hokage Monument!" Neji: "It looks perfect to me" Genma: "Thank you! I worked really hard on-..... why do you feel the need to do these things."

Also I want Neji to have the same approach as Matt to a cane. He can make do without it, but it sure does make his life easier when he's off-duty.

Like, yes if he focuses his entire, highly trained person, on perceiving his surroundings, he can sense his way around. But that is very tiring

Like that is a lot of work to be doing, when you are just trying to get to the coffee shop for a bagel

Neji learns Sage Mode solely because he wants to be able to tree-hop again

Neji visits Kakashi like "I can't ask the Inuzuka for this because their dogs are clan-specific, but do you know where I can find a guide dog that can double as a ninken in the field?"

Neji asking Gai to help him pick out a feminine yukata because if ANYONE is going to not judge...

Listen I'm just really invested in what Naruto SD told us about how often Neji cross-dresses

Someone asked me which summons Neji learns Sage Mode from, and 

I mean, Hashirama supposedly just. Learned it? Without summons?

So maybe Neji does that and just learns from Jiraiya or something

Though it's not... particularly safe.

Birdie had the best response

learning it Without a Summon is very much in the vein of Neji's past attitudes towards Special Secret Techniques, given that he learned the Kaiten with no help even though it was a Secret Technique of the Hyuuga.

"I know it's possible to do, so the hard part is already over, the rest is just figuring it out and doing it"

Neji: I'm here, I'm queer, I'm blind as fuck.

Neji hanging out with Gai and Kakashi is, admittedly, not that different from hanging out with Lee and TenTen

Kakashi is a bit more likely to join in on the shenanigans than Tenten was, but he's still just as available for "We're judging you" sessions

Neji, sipping tea as Gai yells: this is my comfort zone.

Neji with a white cane: This is my whacking stick. Hiashi: Don't you mean walking stick? Neji: No.

Because... what ninja wouldn't ensure that any normal part of their daily life was fit for battle.

Like if Karin can hide lockpicks in a photo and a knife in her glasses, Neji can ensure his white cane is suitable for battle.

(Going off the earlier Daredevil comparisons, I’d say this is similar to Matt turning his cane into billy clubs sometimes.)

Neji, assuming the role of Chief Babysitter for SmolNeji and Hinata, senses Lee and Tenten at the park. Nudges SmolNeji: "Go, be friends with them"

SmolNeji, watching Lee faceplant into the dirt while trying to jump off the swing while Tenten chases two boys around with a weird frog she found: ".... why"

Neji: "Just trust me"

Also consider older Neji giving baby Hinata shoulder rides

Baby Hinata is delighted by this whole affair.

More time with big brother, and a new even bigger brother? Best times.

Bigger brother needs help reading sometimes and Hinata is so excited to help. Hiashi even approves because helping older Neji read things like menus and the like is helping Hinata learn how to read, so it benefits everyone.

Consider also: Neji encouraging the smols to play with bby Naruto, a Hyuuga elder (or possibly Hiashi, but I want him to be a confused accomplice) complains exactly once and Neji exudes such a powerful "Do not test me" energy that he just kind of. Drops it.

Neji's attitude towards baby Naruto is somewhere between "They're good dogs Brent" and "I died for him once already, do you think I'd hesitate to kill?" and it depends entirely on how seriously he thinks you're talking shit about him

Neji plays with the smols, including smol Naruto, by just being the Perfect Straight Man. Just taking every nonsense thing Naruto says Completely Seriously and using deadpan reactions to chaos to make them giggle. This drifts into Feels for Naruto when he's the first adult who takes his "I'm gonna be the Hokage" completely seriously

"Of course, chibi-Hokage-sama"

Hiashi: "What.... are you.... doing?" Neji: "Ah, Hiashi-sama. Please exercise caution, the floor has mysteriously transformed into molten rock. I suspect enemy action, but have no further intelligence at this time" SmolNeji, Hinata, and Naruto: 'wild giggling as they dangle from rafters/stand balanced precariously on chairs'

Hiashi takes one step into the room and all the kids start screaming so loud he steps back out in shock

Neji out in Konoha just Causing Shit with plausible deniability

Listen. Neji is PETTY.

Someone describes Naruto as "the annoying blonde child with the whiskers, you know, the skin brat" and Neji says "I'm a sensor and have encountered no demonic chakra"

"okay just avoid the blonde kid with the whiskers"

"I don't know how to tell you this..." 

"Sir, I know you're new in town, but that kid isn't really good news--" "A child can't be news unless they're recently born." "No, I mean, didn't anyone tell you to avoid the blonde kid with the whiskers?" "Naruto's blonde?"

Possibly "Hinata's blonde?"

He just, aggressively misunderstands that any insinuation about Naruto is about the Hyuuga heir instead

Birdie said they like the idea that he uses the aggressive deliberate misunderstanding to force people to either be embarrassed by how they're acting by having to spell it out or give up in quieter shame

Sometimes Neji gets tired of being obtuse and just lets Gai do it for him

Gai babysits on occasion, SmolNeji is aghast, Hinata mostly just confused, Naruto is delighted

Naruto is just Stars In Eyes about Gai

Kakashi: this is not the excuse I expected to have for visiting Naruto but I'm taking it

『wayv’s ideal type』

headcanons, WayV

A/N: i love yangyang. send tweet.

today’s theme is... um... none. no braincells for an aesthetic

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE GENDER NEUTRAL AAAA

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: fluff (♡)...?

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: i think like 2 swear words and as usual, my tough love for the neos. don’t be offended.

word count: 1.6K

pairing: wayv members x reader (includes kun, ten, winwin, lucas, hendery, xiaojun, yangyang)

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Kun

Kun, similarly to Taeil, would most likely fall for someone very mature and responsible. My dude is already the father of 7 children (I'm counting Chenle); the last thing he needs is one more. 

Very closely related to that is what I think would be another of his priorities: whoever they are and however they are, they've got to get along with the rest of WayV—but it's even better if NCT as a whole likes them. As much as he'd love his s/o, I can't say that if it ever came down to choosing them or his members, he'd pick his partner. The guys are his family and a BIG part of his work, which takes over most of his life, so there's really no escaping it. Befriend the boys or bye-bye.

Once the boys approve of his crush, I think his interest would grow if they've got many pastimes or hobbies. I mean, c'mon, Kun can fly a plane on the same day as he sings his lungs out on Inkigayo and then goes home to cook some fancy-ass dinner. He doesn't need them to be on his level, though. Small, silly passions are the ones the loves the most. He'd listen to them talk about ANYTHING for like 3 hours straight, even if it's why their favourite type of constrictors are pythons. No, that is totally not about me. Shut up.

Ten

Y'all remember that one WayV live where a fan asks for dating advice? Yes, I'm taking a lot from it. If you've seen it, it's not hard to come to the conclusion that Ten likes honest and straightforward people. He values himself way too much to lose his time with someone who's playing games, making him chase them and things of the sort. It's simple, really. If you like him, great, he'll give you the stars if you ask, but if not, great too, he'll live.

I can see that either he'd get with a person as extra as him or someone on Jaehyun's level of unbothered. Not many options here. You either become his partner in crime and bring hell on Earth with him, or you accept it well. Just don't be judgy or ask him to tone it down. That's the way he is, so why should he, you know?

Speaking of that, AUTHENTICITY, FOLKS. Being authentic is a big deal here. Ten is very true to himself and is always encouraging us to be, as well. Anyone he even considers dating will be nothing short of unique and unapologetically so. Being confident is just so attractive for him, I can't even—and yes, even if they're a bit strange. His partner might be a weirdo, but they're HIS weirdo, and he'll fight anyone that disagrees.

Winwin

I think while other members might fall for someone as bright as the Sun, he'd love a person as calming as the Moon. You know that aesthetic? The gentleness, introspectiveness, wisdom, the tranquillity... yeah, fam. That's it for my boy Winwin.

Allow me to elaborate: all of those traits would make him very comfortable with the thought of being in a relationship. I can see Sicheng as having some trust issues, aside from not being very touchy or loud when it comes to affection. Having that peaceful aura would really help him grow closer to his partner because he knows they'll be patient with him and respect his boundaries.

He wouldn't mind if they're more on the talkative side, but he needs a person that can appreciate silence too. Something I see a lot for him is having loud thoughts that are hard to get rid of. Dating him would mean having nights when he's tired out of his mind and just doesn't have the strength to talk. His partner will have to understand that and stay by his side until his inner world is a bit less chaotic, just holding his hand and letting him take his time. I think allowing him to have his space and peace in the relationship is how he feels loved the most. 

Lucas

Yukhei would not mind one bit having a more childish, carefree partner. He's a big baby, c'mon, being around another baby would probably make him the happiest. I also think he meant it when he said he doesn't care about age (that one V-Live from years ago). Younger than him, older than him, my boy doesn't give a fuck. He really just wants someone to be silly with and smile a lot.

Having said that, I really can't see anything pushing him away from getting to know someone. Lucas is very lighthearted and loves people, so I think he'd have his fun getting to know anyone—and tbh, he would be hooked if they're a bit mysterious too. His interest would probably get the best of him, and he wouldn't stop whining about it to the other boys until he learns something about them. Very random, yes, but I can 100% see him complaining to WayV during dinner, LMAO.

One thing he wouldn't enjoy too much? A partner that can't take compliments or doesn't like being spoiled. Yukhei's affection is LOUD, and he really thrives off praise, cute pet names and giving gifts. He'd most likely be heartbroken if he finds out they don't like any of it, almost like they're shutting down his love itself.

Xiaojun

Ah, my dear Dejun. The middle child of WayV. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, just look up "Xiaojun's middle child problems" on YouTube and go from there.  If you don't feel like it, lemme break it down to you: he's an angel, but the boys mostly accuse him of everything and anything and will throw him under the bus for fun. It's very entertaining. At this point, my boy doesn't have a fight or flight response; more like fight or fight (shhhh, I'll get into the headcanon now).

I think since he's used to being so defensive around his members, he'd appreciate a person that makes him feel both understood and safe. They'd share similar tastes (mint-choco ice cream, cough cough) and interests, but they'd most likely have a fiercer presence than him. Kind of intimidating, tbh. Very nice. I can definitely see that his partner wouldn't let WayV's chaos get to them and would, undoubtedly, be as much of a savage as the boys are.

He'd probably like it if they (playfully) fight his members and defend him from whatever-the-fuck they're blaming him for atm, so, yes, a bit protective. I think Dejun would simply find it cute and admirable, you know, their braveness. Would 10/10 brag about it when they're alone.

Hendery

Kunhang is the ultimate crackhead, but a sweet one at that. Being a Libra (yes, I'm going there), I think he can actually be very sentimental around the people he trusts the most and needs to feel like he belongs. That leads me to point 1: his partner would also be a crackhead. That's REALLY not up for debate. Kunhang wouldn't even think about dating someone that's not as much of a weirdo as he is. 

Point 2: he probably wouldn't like to be with a person that's too vain or superficial, whether that goes towards others or themselves. He's said before he hopes the fans can see him as more than a pretty face, and I can imagine that goes for his s/o too. He'd simply not feel connected to someone who's always dolled up or dressed to impress. Would definitely prefer a more casual style and personality.

I guess point 3 is kinda random, but it makes sense to me, so here we go. Kunhang would really like someone who's just in love with human nature. For him, it's the tiniest things: the way they laugh, how they drink their tea, which side of the bed they'd prefer... it all adds up to a person, and I think he'd feel over the Moon to be with someone who sees the same things as him. Comment on a small habit of his he thinks no one else would notice, and I swear he's yours.

Yangyang

He is a spoiled brat, and I say that with all the love in the world. We've all heard WayV say how he basically tries to exploit them (mainly Hyung-line) at every opportunity he gets, which makes me think Yangyang might be a bit lazy, yes, but also that he'd do great with someone whose love language is acts of service.

Now, I'm not saying he'd tyrannize them or anything of the sort, but things would work very well if that is how his partner expresses their love. They wouldn't mind fetching him a drink, cooking something—or ordering out, if they can't... you know, stuff like that. It would make him feel very validated and cared for. I see that, for him, that's the ultimate type of devotion.

The last thing I can imagine he'd consider is whether they can take his teasing and antics or not. Yangyang's affection is really not shown through super heartfelt, sugar-coated moments; quite the opposite, actually. If he feels happy around someone, his way of showing it is that playful banter, insults and teasing, you know? He really wouldn't know what to do if the person takes everything he says to heart, like—Yangyang.exe has stopped working. So, yeah. A thick skin and elastic heart are a great combo for my boy.

Bonus: he'd lowkey cry if they get super hyped with his work as an artist. PLEASE praise his dancing, rapping, visuals and all. I don't think many people do, and even if he denies it, the compliments make him all fuzzy inside. #appreciateyangyang2021, he's underrated af.

---

final notes: head empty, no thoughts, just 90′s love yangyang

Title: coward :: brat Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu  Genre: angst, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion

Synopsis: you finally see Miya Atsumu after six years, meanwhile, he feels pain when he realizes that you settled down with someone else that wasn’t him. notes: i um want to thank yall for supporting this story im- crying T-T I’m happy to inform everyone that i’ll be updating this twice a week every monday and saturday! yay!!! i was able to finish editing and im writing the last two chapters now. stay safe and big love to each and everyone of you <3

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“...Uh, Youta-Kun, Yuuto-kun, I thought you guys weren’t allowed to go.” Sugawara laughed nervously, knowing all too well where this would lead. He’s familiar with over-enthusiastic boys, in fact, one of those over-enthusiastic balls of sunshine was here right now entertaining them.

“K-Kaasan says it’s alright.” Yuuto lies but Sugawara quirked his brow, it was so obvious that he was lying.

“Yep, she did!” Youta grins, trying to help his twin but like him, he’s failing drastically.

“Then you won’t mind if I call your okaasa-”

“No!” Youta and Yuuto yell in unison. This made other people turn their way, Miya Atsumu watched the pair in amusement from afar. He noticed that they were late and that Sugawara had caught on to their scheme of joining in even without the parental consent, “We won’t join!” Youta proclaims, “Right, yu? W-We’ll pick up balls!”

Hinata feels his eyes glimmer at those words and decides to help them convince Sugawara but in the end, the twins were forced to be benched while the grey-haired teacher had to go back to the faculty to call you.

“It’s alright,” Hinata ruffles both their hairs, “We’ll try to come back next time and I’ll be sure to help convince your ‘kaasan.”

“Hey don’t plant false ideas in their head, Shoyou.” Atsumu grins, lazily jogging to their side. He directs his gaze to the twins that seem to oddly remind him of him and ‘samu when they were younger. The boy's gaze lingered a bit too long on him,unlike other kids who stared at him in awe, these ones were seething, “What are ya lookin’ at, kid?”

“Wow,you’re as mean as your brother.” Yuuto notes, eyeing him up and down. 

“Yeah.” Youta echoes.

Atsumu quirks a brow, this was quite the new reaction. Never in his life had a kid told him that he was mean as ‘Samu also how did they even know his twin brother?

“Now, now, don’t you think you should cut me some slack?” Atsumu tried to jokebut the twins remained unamused by the blonde’s antics, somehow Atsumu felt a sense of familiarity from their monotonous reactions.

“No thanks.” Yuuto crossed his arms, “The fake Atsumu made ‘kaasan cry and since you look like him, you might make ‘kaasan cry too.”

“What he said!” Youta agreed loudly, copying his older brother’s action.

Atsumu was just plain confused now, he admitted that Osamu had an attitude sometimes when he was annoyed but letting a mom cry in front of her kids? That’s definitely new and not-so ‘samu like (after all, he was apparently the nicer one between them)

“What’s the name of your okaasan-”

“Youta-Kun, Yuuto-kun, Your mom will be picking you up at the gate! Please go there now.” Sugawara cuts him off, Youta and Yuuto stand up and eye him for a bit.

“We’ll defeat you and your brother! Just wait and see, we’ll be as big as you and that other jiji!” Yuuto exclaims and before Atsumu could retaliate, they’re running off to the opposite direction. Hinata was laughing beside him, clutching his sides because apparently he was too petty while Sugawara looked at him with an apologetic expression.

“I wonder why L/N-san didn’t allow them to go, she’s usually very supportive of their hobbies, especially volleyball.” Sugawara frowns, suddenly voicing out his thoughts. Atsumu felt his shoulders stiffen at the sound of that familiar name. 

Osamu revealed he saw you last week then these kids suddenly confessed that his twin made their okaasan cry, he’s never seen you cry throughout your relationship (save for that night when you first me but you guys weren't together yet so that didn’t count). Maybe he was mistaken? it might be your relative or a common name.

After all, you were clear about not wanting a family.

“You know their mom well?” Hinata inquired,  Atsumu seems to be listening closely now, wanting to confirm if the person that Sugawara was talking about is you.

“Oh yeah, we're around the same age so I’m much closer to her than the other moms.” Sugawara blinks, “Those boys have to listen to their okaasan more. She’s raising them on her own since their dad died before he even got to know that L/N-san was pregnant. She seemed to be longing for him whenever he’s mentioned.”

A crease appeared on the blonde's forehead as he was suddenly in deep thought. It couldn’t be, right?

“Uh, Sugawara-san, may I know the name of the mom? Her last name sounds kind of familiar.” he questions, pretending to be nonchalant but inside, he feels like he had his heart on his throat.

If it was you, he’d feel those things that he desperately tried to hide behind his confident jokes and laughs. 

The pain.

The pain that you chose someone else and was open enough to the idea of starting a family. If that guy probably hadn’t died, you’d be together, happily raising those boys he had just met a while ago. Happily married, something that Atsumu tried to mention one fleeting moment while you were together back in college but you immediately shut the idea down and left him a month later.

The pain that you fell in love in a span of moments unlike Atsumu who relentlessly tried to gain your favour and follow you around like a lost puppy.

“Oh, her name’s Y/N L/N.”

Thankfully nothing unexpected happened after what the twins did, they ended up having to pick if they wanted their video game rights removed for a week or cancel their plans with their favorite ojisan who was coming by a few weeks from now, they chose the first one on that.

They had even mentioned that they met the real Miya Atsumu and although you felt like your heart lurched out of your chest and your shoulders stiffen at the mention of that man --- their father---  they simply had called him a rude jiji like his brother much to your relief.

“L/N-san, we seem to have a problem.” Aiko frowned, handing the papers to you, “The director of the advertisement department wants a bigger budget, do you mind running it through him again? You have to go to the studio though, I heard they’re doing some photo shoot now.”

You nodded in reply, taking the papers from your co-worker. The studio was a bit far so you ended up having to commute to get there, “What a nuisance.” You muttered, you needed to buy a second-hand car soon when you had enough money. It would definitely be easier for both you and the boys, “Uh excuse me? Is Nakamura-san here?” you asked the secretary on the front desk.

“And who are you?” the secretary snapped back, still typing away on her computer.

“Y/N L/N from the finance department, I have to run through the new budget liquidation with him.”

The secretary one-eyes you and the ID on your neck for a split second, “You better be quick, the boss wants only five minutes per guest since he’s personally handling the shoot today.” was all she replied, handing you the pass. You muttered a quick thank you and made your way up to the studio, whoever the model was today, they must’ve been big for Nakamura to handle them personally.

“Oh-ho, is that who I think it is?” a very, very familiar voice calls out.

“Inunaki-san.” You greeted, trying to maintain yourself, were these the big clients that Nakamura was handling? The black jackals? good fucking gracious, god must hate you.

“Wow,” he shakes his head, feigning amusement, “You’re still so calm and cool.”

You narrowed your eyes at the insult but you waved it off, “And you’re playing for a national team, congratulations.” you replied in a blank tone, your senior probably knew what happened between you and his fellow member. You wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he reacted the same way as Osamu did.

“We’re actually doing a shoot now, would you like me to call Atsu-”

“No.” your usual calm tone switched to a colder one, “I’m working now and so is Miya-san, please don’t bother yourself.”

“Gee,” he raised his hands, signalling defeat, “Just say you don’t want to see him. You don’t need to be so cold to me, my dear little kohai.”

“I have to go back to my job, I’m on the clock here.” You ignored his previous statement, “It was nice seeing you again Inunaki-san.”

Before you could give him a chance to reply, you headed towards the studio. You took a deep breath and mentally calculated to three.

one. 

It’s been six years, Miya Atsumu would ignore you. He wouldn’t care about the girl who left him out to dry in college. He’s got a girlfriend now, a model who has legs for days and looks ten times better than you and acts more like a girlfriend than you ever did.

two.

Yes, that’s right, he wouldn’t care.

three.

You entered the studio, you could feel the air tighten around you as soon as you heard that laughter. The one you used to hear everyday and never get tired of. For all the laughs you couldn’t do, he’d do it for you and boy, was he patient around you since you didn’t smile a lot back then (who were you kidding? until now you still had the same problem except when the kids were around)

You want to stop and stare, you want to admire him and his glory that you were very much proud of.

Yet your legs continue to carry you to your boss, the laughter seems to have ceased and you could hear someone asking him what was wrong.

“Oh, L/N-san?” Nakamura greeted you, “You’re here for the renewal of the budget?”

You nodded feverishly, your legs seem to be turning into jelly because you want to collapse from the nervousness and thank god that you wore some make-up before arriving here, otherwise, they would’ve noticed how pale you looked, “Everything seems to be in order,” He nods, scanning the sheets and handing them back to you, “Are you busy right now?”

You glanced at the wall clock, checking the time to see if you could extend your stay and Nakamura is quick to pick up on it, “Ah right, you’ve got kids to pick up. It’ll be quick, just help set up the blocks there and you’re free to leave.” he orders.

You nodded obediently and slowly turned to the side only to catch the very familiar chocolate brown eyes of the blonde. You feel your heart hammering in your chest and your feet turn cold, it had been six years since you last saw Miya Atsumu and he was still as winsome and exhilarating as he was back then.

You may have seen him a lot on television but seeing him, right here, a few feet away from you was different. Taking in a big gulp of air, you started working on the set-up as quickly as you could yet you could still feel his burning gaze remaining on you, “Tsum-tsum, lay off her will you.” came Inunaki Shion’s loud voice snaps him out of his daze.

Great, that little twat had to make an appearance.

“Y/N-san you should really say hi,” Inunaki teased as soon as you finish your set-up.

“Oh? You’re Y/N L/N?” the orange one gushed, quickly up on his feet, you recall him as Hinata Shoyou, Youta’s favorite orange-haired ninja, “Sugawara-san’s friend?” 

You hesitantly nodded, “Oh, you know her Sho-kun?” Shion asked, seemingly amused by it all.

“What are you all crowding here for, Hinata?” Another asked, peering in them closely. This one must’ve been Bokuto, another favorite of Yuuto.

“Sugawara-san’s friend! she’s the mother of those two boys in the training camp who had to go home early!” he suddenly turns to you and then grins, “Ne, ne, the boys really seem to want to attend one of those. Why don’t you allow them to join us-”

“Forget it, Hinata.” Atsumu suddenly speaks out, that warm voice that you were accustomed to seemed cold and menacing now, “She won’t allow it.”

Shion notices the tension between you two and when he’s about to usher the energetic duo away back to the dressing room along with the other members, you let out a quiet sigh and spoke out, “I was on my way to leave, please don’t bother yourselves.” You simply replied, you didn’t waver and stared at him dead in the eye, this could be the moment to end it all and cut ties with him officially, “I apologize for what I did back then, Miya-san. I should’ve told it to you in person. I offer my sincere congratulations to you for making it this far.”

The blonde clenched his jaw, it seemed like he wanted to say something to you yet when he realizes the usual calm and collected demeanor you're putting up, he decides against it and leaves you alone by storming away first.

Hinata and the guy named Bokuto looked at you --- completely puzzled and lost like a deer in the headlights --- before following the blonde, “You truly are in a whole ‘nuther level, Y/N.” Shion whistles, “Heard you’ve got two boys now though. Congrats, where's the poor bastard?”

You continue to watch the back of Atsumu Miya. Finally, it seemed like he’d left you alone and probably for good this time, “Gone, off to a better place.” was all you replied.

Inunaki notices the longing in your voice, a completely unfamiliar emotion he had never seen back then even when you and Atsumu were together. It seemed like you and Atsumu were both the poor bastards in the end.

Miya Atsumu sleeps alone that night.

He doesn’t call his girlfriend back despite the several missed calls, he doesn’t reply to the unanswered text of his brother and his teammates. All he feels is pain tonight, pain because of your very dry apology, pain because of your bland expression. Pain because you didn’t seem to care like that time six years ago.

He shuts his eyes tight and he feels as if he’s back in college, back to that winter night where he received that dreaded phone call from you after you disappeared from him. He remembered those days clearly, your apartment had been cleaned out and paid for, you weren’t answering him on social media, your phone line was also unresponsive and he couldn’t even call your family since you never mentioned anything about them at all.

You both may have been intimate for the past two years but when you disappeared, he had the frightening realization that he didn’t know you at all.

He didn’t want to push you out of your comfort zone, he wanted you to lead the relationship but right at that moment, he wished he pried just a bit since he was worried about you.

Then in the midst of his anxiety, it came, that phone call.

“Atsumu.” your usual calm voice filled his ears and he suddenly feels the weight of the world is removed from his shoulders, thank god you were okay.

“Y/N? Baby? Where are you?”

“Out.”

“Where outside exactly?” Miya Atsumu dryly asks, “It’s cold, you shouldn’t be out now and wandering about. Would you like me to pick you up-”

“I can’t do this anymore.” you suddenly cut him off and the line goes quiet. The blonde feels the world around him quiet down too when he hears those words that he wished he heard wrong.

“What’s, what’s wrong? Y/N, are you alright?” 

“I don’t know,” You mutter, “I’m just tired.”

“Tired of what exactly?”

“Of you, of us…”

“Y/N, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

“Yes.” Your voice remained dead calm as if you just hadn’t broken his heart in a million pieces that moment, “Let’s stop this here now, Atsumu. Let’s break-up.”

“That’s…” He tries to keep the mood light, praying that this is one of your dark jokes, “That’s not funny, Y/N.”

“It’s not supposed to be since it’s not a joke.”

Your response was curt as usual and he doesn’t know whats worse, the fact that you’re breaking up over the phone or the fact that your tone remains stable and the same.

“Y/N, don’t do this...Baby don’t do this over the phone.” His tone seemed desperate at this point, “I’m not stopping this until you tell me what's wrong between us, you have to give me something to work with Y/N. Is it something I did?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean ya don’t know?” Atsumu started to raise his tone when he notices how unaffected you seem at the other line.Frustration slowly started to bubble in him, the accent turning thicker as he got angrier, “Y/N ya can’t just disappear out of the blue and call me one day and tell me you want to break up! Do you think I’m some sort of fling? Some one-night stand or fuck buddies? We’ve been together for two years, Y/N. Two whole fucking years, What’s wrong? Do you not love me anymore?”

“Yes.”

The line went dead silent again and he hates it, he doesn’t know what to say as his face contorts in sadness and confusion. 

“I don’t…” He starts to feel a lump grow on his throat when he hears how easy it was for you to say, he knew he was in love with you more than you were with him. Many had pointed out how dangerous and how painful it would be on his side in the end, he couldn’t believe it would hurt him this much, “ I don’t fucking believe you, say it right at my face. Where the hell are ya? Let’s talk this one out in person.”

“Don’t bother, I just don’t want to see you again.”

“Y/N you can’t just-”

“I can and I will.” You cut him off, your voice was growing more and more detached and he feels like he’s back to that moment two years ago where you didn’t spare him a glance and treated him like a scrub, he hears a hefty sigh on your side and the next few words is another bullet to his heart, “I’m sorry it had to end this way, Atsumu.”

“You…” he shakily replied, trying to mask his grief with a painful chuckle. He wants to be mad at you, he wants to yell at you but for some odd reason, he couldn’t bring himself to,  “Jesus christ, you really are something, Y/N. You just broke my heart over the the fucking phone and all you could do is say sorry?”

“Sorry.” you say, like a broken-record on repeat and he hates it. He hates how he feels like this was nothing for you.

“Don’t you dare say that again when you don’t mean it-” He spat and before he could finish what he had to say, the phone line went dead. He tried to call again but it seemed like you had used a payphone. Out of complete vexation, he hurls his phone right across the room towards the blue photo frame with the both of you in it.

The sound of broken glass shards and ragged breathing is the only thing heard in the quiet apartment.

It’s not even the peak of winter that night yet he feels so numb and cold.

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