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#sorry for the random sad catboy
nekojiima · 4 months
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The wilting flower still adores this world.
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pashminalamb · 1 year
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Mon chéri Bellee! how are you faring these days? I-I don't know how to start this ask since I'm in the middle of packing stuff for an educational tour (we're going to visit a museum and pick strawberries by hand at a strawberry farm YAYYYY!!! Are you fond of strawberries??), s-so I'm sorry when topics became random >/////////<
The moment you opened the poll for the 2.4k event (HURRAYYY FOR ANOTHER MILESTONEEEEEEE!!!!! *salutes* ( ̄▽ ̄*)ゞ), I was so astonished to see the results! (I've been looking at it from time to time and the suspense is killing me! ItevenaffectedwhichmindsetshouldIroleplay (//ᗣ//) HAHAHAHA) Yet I understand whyyyyyyy it ended 50/50 Both ideas are soooooo goood!!
But despite the results, your decision to continue with the other prompt next time (Cat Boy cafe event for 2.5k) made me so happy!!! I thought you were going to throw it away ;; I'm slowly becoming a cat person because my lil brotato chip invited me to clean some of the stray kitten's faces since it rained the other day. Fortunately, some of them are calm uwu. Are you also a cat person?
Also, cheers and congratulations for having 100+ KUDOS in your Ghostface!Rin Fic ♡♡♡♡ ~('▽^人)
Remember when you mentioned that particular scene from JJBA on my last ask? I watched the scene using youtube (the comment section is hilarious for blaming Leonardo Da Vinci XD) and I was in shock O_O I keep on having this thought about the VA who's assigned to a character like him. "I wonder how many times would it take to deliver the line that has a context of getting an erection just by looking at a hand when he was just a child. Knowing how a lil creepy Kira is because of his kink. If I was his VA, I'll prolly laugh uncontrollably on set wwwwww"
I have a smol question... is it possible for an omegaverse ask event to appear in one of your milestones event?
I'm so happyyy you liked the Picrew I did of you and Aiku ♡( ◡‿◡ ) So I'm back with another Picrew! >:3 Here's the link~ Feel free to create/recreate your own character here! I already did mine :3 https://picrew.me/ja/image_maker/707090
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As for my request for your 2.4k event, I must confess that... this is a first for me to become the d-dom one (ノωノ). Forgive me if my request doesn't resemble a lot of dominant energy.
(NSFW) *Catching him using my panties around his cock, did make me blush but still!* You masturbated a lot again while I was at work, Rin. I've already avoided hugging my male co-workers so you wouldn't feel sad when you suddenly got a whiff of their foreign scent on my clothes. Yet, it appears someone needs a punishment. Hmmm... you know what? No more sex with me for four days nor touching me and my clothes... *inserts cock ring slowly* Also, if you removed this during the duration, starting now, I will hang out with my male friends and let them be touchy with me. Do you understand?
Hi pretty angel ♡ My days have been going well so far - been traveling and I downloaded the new obey me game! And yes, I love strawberries! they're a good balance of sweet n sour <3 (I really likes guava juice though for some reason?) I was pretty stoked to see the poll results as well tbh - like 50/50? that was so new on the blog -
as for catboys, they are cute. I'm more of a dog person I would say cause puppies and dogs run to me (a goldie puppy ran to me last week for pets despite never meeting me before) cause when I was younger, I got scratched by my grandmother's cat n cause of that I had to go to the doctor (not the best experience I remember) But I guess you can say I'm a cat person cause on some days when I've had encounters with stray cats, one of them came and slept on my bag n I had a pretty hard time trying to take her off cause i didn't wanna be scratched n this one was notorious that way. My friend didn't even help me T.T but i ended up doing it and no scratches
Oh yeah I ended up hitting 100+ kudos on the yan! rin fic - kind of surprise and thank you to everyone who liked it <3
oh yeah - i remember the JJBA ask ; Kira yoshikage... istg the plot regarding his character just keeps getting more creepily interesting. I know I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face in the studio either if his va said that line.
Fun fact : Jotaro's va is Erwin Smith in AOT, Dio's va is Zeke Jaegar n now... Fushiguro Toji. (i knew the voice when I heard it. i'm good at guessing vas) n now I'm thinking hoping that Aiku's va is something of a smoky voice like Nanami's 🤞🏻 And yes! I would love to see Omegaverse asks in my askbox! (I did want to plan a monster au! event - minus zombies, frankenstein and aliens cause i never got around those.) i absolutely adored that pic crew pic of me n aiku - he's such an asshole but i wuv him :(
*praying to see shirtless aiku or i will be tempted to draw him*
here's a piccrew of me <3
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*eyes widen* I- girl 💀 For a first time, you're doing more than good!
tags ; vibrating cockring, dom! y/n, begging, thumb sucking and choking but not really.
Rin : *whining while pawing at your bottoms* "please. please, mistress." he whines with a furrowed brow, as his hands move up from your bottoms towards your shirt, hands slipping under it to feel your stomach. You watch, as he is on his knees ; begging for you to forgive him. "No. This is the sixth that you have ruined while I was at work. Six orgasms, Rin. Couldn't stick to one lingerie? You had to go for six of them? You don't even take responsibility for cleaning up the mess, leaving me to wash them when I'm very exhausted at the end of the day." you say, annoyance evident in your tone. You place your hands on his cheek as he looks at you with pleading teal eyes, slipping your thumb into his mouth. Taking this as a chance for his redemption, he sucks your thumb, looking at you in earnest, hoping that you would take the cockring off him. "Such an obedient little lamb." you remark with a chuckle as he moans, coming closer, his naked cock making contact with your shin. Removing your thumb from his mouth, you kneel before him, hand now around his throat. "You thought you could weasel your way out this one?" you ask him, causing him to blush, the tips of his ears turning pink.
Turning on the vibrator, you watch as leans forward sucking in a deep, hard breath. Looking into his eyes, you say in low tone.
"You're going to cum eight times for me. Six for the clothes that you ruined and two for the extra punishment. I'm taking it easy on you Rin. Next time, I won't be as lenient. Do I make myself clear?" you ask him with a stern tone.
"Yes, mistress." he says, his hand placed on yours around his throat. "Good boy."
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yandere-daze · 2 years
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omg dazeee happy to see you round again、hope you had a good week!!!
been reading thru the asks now and... omg... im so sorry for the poor people that'd be targets for yan shu. you included i know you fit in this category HAHA. i personally cant stand shu and... my god. on jp from the very first free pull i got shu's basic 5* and it was an actual jumpscare 😭 besides this i kept having weirdest pulls in my life. like. i got both leo and izumi 5* one after the other in another free pull... i was like. how. when i saw the newdi logo and it wasnt natsume i was kinda sad </3
as for eng i saved up for 70 pulls and decided to do them on the basic 3-5* scout in hopes of natsume (there was no natsume) ;; but i did get the catboy ritsu which was one i passed on and got like second 10 pull? it made me happy i was like. wow that was fast. HAHA... i also kept rolling tatsumi like crazy and maxed his 4*... welp. he was also the first one to call me on jp. man needs to chill. even if your self aware yan au didnt exist id still believe something was up with how much tatsumi keeps appearing on my screen upon random notices 😭 dont have anything against him、however im kaname fan numero uno /j
oh also i was wondering if i could be darlingnon? its a nickname another blog gave me and its cute :)
(Yes you absolutely can be darlingnon, I agree that it´s a very cute nickname!! ^^)
Thank you, I hope you had a good week as well!!
Omg I know right? Shu is hunting all of us down and no one is safe at this point 😭 I´d be careful now if I were you, it looks like Shu is slowly spreading his influence if he suddenly appeared on your very first free pull yncljnf
I love it when there´s neat coincidences like that and two characters appear one after another. I swear I had something like that happen to me recently but I can´t for the life of me remember who it was. It´s still very lucky that you got them both from a free pull even if it´s kind of unsettling and I´d be worried that they struck some sort of alliance to keep you for themselves. This theory is only supported by Ritsu showing up as well, soon enough all of Knights is going to show up on your doorstep at this rate sfbsjlnf
Natsume is probably somewhere in a hidden room, plotting some sort of scheme to finally win you over once and for all and he still needs some time before he can finally put his plan into action. Spells need some time to work their magic, you know?
HELP everyone is just going crazy in your phone now, even Tatsumi isn´t safe anymore😭 First calling you because he wants to know where you are and who you´re with and then pestering you by giving you his 4 star card over and over! Sir you´re being a bit too obvious right now! Please calm down!
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solara-bean · 4 years
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 Grimmjow Headcanons Plus a Few x S/O ones 
( pretty sure I read some of these somewhere but I forgot so here's a self indulgent list :)
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He died in his early twenties so he's still pretty young mentally but physically as a hollow he's old as hell
He's European
He takes a lot of naps in random places such as the roof of Las Noches
In fact he does a lot of cat like stuff and doesn’t realize it
He can purr but rarely and it’s mostly in his sleep 
When he became an arrancar he had long hair similar to his release form. It kept getting in the way so he cut it
he doesn’t like wearing clothes
Him and his fraccion use to sleep close together in case they were ambushed by other adjuchas and still did even after they became arrancars
They didn’t think much of it. Except Di Roy. He’d say it was weird and ‘un-masculine’ to which Grim would tell him to shut up and go to sleep after laying an arm or a leg over his face. 
Di Roy would also occasionally guilt trip him
Grimmjow: You’re too weak to fight with us.
Di Roy: I wouldn’t be if someone didn’t bite my face off. 
Grimm:..........fine! do whatever you want. See if I care. 
He was actually much closer to them than he let on
Most of the epsada knew it. Especially after Syazel threatened to experiment on them since they were ‘expendable.’ He did his best to avoid Grimmjow after that.
He only really got to grieve of their deaths when the war against Aizen ended
As much as he genuinely enjoyed fighting Ichigo it was also a distraction from all the pain he tried to burry
Harribel and Nelliel helped him with his grief
They became sort of friends afterwards tho he still tries to fight them both on a weekly basis 
Refers to Pantera with female pronouns 
One perk of most of Los Noches’ inhabitants being defeated is the nearly infant amount of space. So he was able to choose his own room
He keeps it surprisingly tidy aside from the nicknacks he’s hoarded from wandering around Hueco Mundo
His bed is full of pillows as a substitute of having a pack to sleep with
When asked he’ll say its for comfort
Nelliel: Have you seen my pillow? 
Grimmjow: * sitting on it in his pillow pile* No.
He steals everyone’s stuff now and then but mostly Nel’s cuz he likes to mess with her ( insert low key sibling energy )
He talks to animals like people
Grimmjow: I told you to stop crossing the street at the red light idiot!
Cat: Meow
Grimm: Don’t talk back to me you little shit!!
Hangs out at Urahara’s place when he’s in the living world and not trying to fight Ichigo
Likes human food. Especially meat.
Grimmjow: *eating bacon for the first time* hmm tastes like hollows but better
Ichigo:.....I’m sorry what??!!
Was dared that he couldn’t beat Yoruichi at twister. He won five crates of snacks to bring back to Hueco Mundo ( may or may not have shared them cuz “ they gave me too much so take it or I’ll throw it out” )
Says things around the characters in the living world about his terrible experience under Aizen’s rule like it’s normal
Grimmjow: *having another rematch with Ichigo* Damn that almost hurt as much as Tousen slicing my arm off
Ichigo: *pauses the fight* Tousen did WHAT?!!
Becomes friends with Ichigo but won’t admit it.
Somewhat apologizes to Orihime and Rukia for what he did. But not Ichigo cuz he’ll do it all again but with less deadly intent.
Learns how to cook
Likes just about any kind of movie/show. He isn’t picky 
Would get his 6 tattoo edited to something else if it bothered him
Would freakin die for Kazui!!! 
Here are the S/O ones:
Is pansexual so gender isn’t an issue
Prefers someone who can beat him up but is ok with a human if he feels a very strong connection to them
Doesn’t really have a physical type honestly 
Will admire things about their appearance cuz he likes it on them and not in general
Will be in complete denial about his feelings at first 
Like “hollows aren’t meant to love” and all that ish 
Makes up excuses to hangout with them but it’s mostly for his own benefit
“ I don’t like them. They just have a nice movie collection.” “ I don’t like them. They’re just nice to spar with.” “ I don’t like them. They’re just nice to talk to.” “I don’t like them. They just make me feel safe when I sleep next to them.” 
Gives them random things he’s found when wondering around Hueco Undo’s desserts like gems and cool sharp bones
Let's them hold and even use Pantera
Starts to unconsciously turn off his hierro when he’s with them. It causes a lot of fliching and embarrassing gasps when they touch him since he’s not use to feeling so much
Did I mention he’s touch starved?
Like a lot.
Holding his hand for too long would literally kill him
Once he’s gotten use to feeling something other than pain from another person he starts to let them touch him more. Like hugs. Lots of hugs. 
He even lets them rub his release form’s cat ears
Then here come the purrs. Louder than they’ve ever been before! It startles them both. He denied it but the blush gave him away.
He’ll do his best to purr more often since his s/o likes it so much. Such as when they’re cuddled up for a nap. Though he doesn’t really have to try.
Is confused as to why they like to squish his toe beans but lets them do it anyway
Wraps his tail around them in his release form
Will let them braid his long hair
Will also let them paint his claws as well as put makeup on him
He’s a total pushover ( insert the ‘please for me’ meme )
Is very protective of them
“ Why are you sad? Do I need to kill someone?”
If asked will follow his s/o when they’re out at night so they feel safe. Potential muggers? Thrown by an unknown force. Stalker? Punched by an unknown force. Cat callers in a car? Car gets flipped over by an unknown force.
Eventually no one bothers them at all cuz word goes around that they’re protected by a ghost or something else supernatural.
They’re of the few that can call him by a nickname and survive. Grimm, Grimmy, Grimmykins, Grimmy-kun, Kitty, Kitten, Catboy, Stinky cat, Baby boy, Baby boi, Big guy, Tough guy, My Arancar, My love, My one and only, Handsome, Blueberry. Literally anything is fine with him.
But call him My King and he’s done for. Dead. A second time. Deceased all over again. His heart will reform just to burst out of existence. 
Takes them to Hueco Mundo a few times 
Makes a pillow fort with them with his hoard of pillows 
Will be skeptical as to why they like him and won’t be surprised if they get tired of him and break up
But oh no! They’re in it for the long run! You’re stuck with them Grimmykins:)
Would most likely say I love you without even realizing it till later
Grimm: *blushes* F*CK!!
Harribel: *pauses the meeting* Is there something wrong?
Grimm: I told Y/n that I love them before I left without realizing it! *puts his face in his hands and groans* I’m so screwed.
Nel: Well it’s about damn time!
Harribel: Congrats Grimmjow
Grimm: *groans and blushes some more*
If he really loves them he’ll find a way to weaken his immortality so they can grow old together ( yes it’ sappy but he figures he’ll get bored after they long gone )
Might go to Mayuri for help and becomes his lab rat in return. Won’t tell his s/o till it’s done so they won’t try to stop him.
It’s not fun. Like at all ( insert angsty fit energy here ). But it works and as an added bonus him and his s/o can have kids if they’d like
A great dad. Incredibly supportive and loving. Mess with them and you’re dead. Or at least scarred for life. No one messes with his cubs.  
Grimm: Isn’t it weird that our kids are best friends?
Ichigo: No. We’re friends.
Grimm: I tried to kill you.
Ichigo: Who hasn’t?
Grimm: I’ll drink to that.
Ichigo: That’s a juice box.
Grimm: Have you seen my kids? The last time I wasn’t sober they ceroed the roof off and beat up a hollow. There’s no way I’m missing that again.
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thebadchoicemachine · 3 years
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For the writing prompt, what about ghost!Robin and Catboy!Corpse seeing present day Cornelius/Dream? Like Dream being confused and happy about his Partner and Son’s Ghosts being there and everyone else being v confused about the two random people calling him Cornelius and knowing him from a hundred years ago.
anon im so sorry. This has been sitting in my inbox for months now but I just cannot finish this story. it a really cool idea though. Here’s my incomplete first draft. I just copy and paste it from my wip to here so this is it, notes and cuts and typos and all. 
The idea is Karl shows up when they’re in the prison and they see the false timeline where Cornelius was a killer and are forced to accept he sucks
_________________
- The execution cell was supposed to be merciful, a more civilized solution than being beat to death, but everything about it made Robin gag. He hoped he would never ever end up in it. 
tw: implied indirect suicide, major death but they’re ghosts(?) 
--•-•-*-•-•-- 
Colors and colors and colors wouldn’t stop melting and mixing and swirling. They surrounded him. They were in him. They were him. He breathed them in without breathing, he bled them without blood, he was falling and flying and stood completely still. 
And then it was dark. No, then it was light. White and clean like the marble of a palace Robin knew he would never get to see. 
Where... where was he? He’d won hadn’t he? They’d... killed... him. They’d killed everyone. 
He wanted to die. He had to. There was boiling in his blood he couldn’t ease, he had to die, he needed them to hate him. To end him. The Jester’s Curse. Cursed to be wronged, to be hurt, to be freed. 
He’d always had it, as far as he was concerned. He didn’t know why he resisted for so long. Perhaps, despite everything, he’d enjoyed living at one point. Despite what he was, despite his curse, despite bring a jester, he wanted to live! At some point he couldn’t care less about tricking others into condemning him to the grave. 
After Cornelius, after Cat, he didn’t even fight it nor could he fight for it. He didn’t even care. Even as the ground swallowed him up in flames of the execution he held no harmony. No peace. There was no joy in his victory, there was no meaning to his death. Even in fulfilling it, he’d denied his curse. 
That’s why he was still here, wasn’t it? Jesters want to die, they want to transform, to be released into vengeful spirits of lies and trickery. He was... dead. He was also... still here... why? He knew why. He didn’t think he liked the answer. 
Robin couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand to bother mourning anymore. Not himself, not his long-dead family, not his new fath- he choked. He didn’t know know on what, he had no air, no lungs. He just couldn’t finish the thought. 
“We never did make it official, did we?” A solemn, comforting, voice rang out.
Robin spun around. No. What? No, it’s not. It is. He is. Right there. Standing- no, not standing. Neither of them can stand. Not floating either just… there… was Cat. 
Robin felt his eyes fill up with tears, he didn’t know how, he didn’t care. He flew into his friend’s arms. 
“Woah! Ah, be careful, child.”
“H-how,” Robin sobbed into his chest. “How are you…”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
“I th-thought that was because of my c-curse.”
Cat sighed, gently ruffling the child’s hair.  
“No,” he spoke, finally. “I don’t think that’s why any of us are here.”
“Then-”
“No, I don’t think it’s what happens to everyone either. I’ve been alone as far as I can tell. I haven’t found anyone else. Not even…” he sighed again. 
Robin understood. Cornelius was gone. 
“I’m so sorry, Robin.” Cat tightened his grip. “I’m so sorry for what we put you through. We promised we would give you a better life, a safer one, but we left you in the worst way possible. You were executed because... because of me.”
“Oh,” Robin stared down at his feet. “You... were there for that?”
“No. I wasn’t- I can’t- I don’t know how to explain it, I only know what happened. Exactly what happened. It was like living a story being told to you, as though a nar- narrating...
Narration. Something clicked in both of their minds. Wasn’t there some strange… the spirals… the colors… he didn’t have a name, not one he ever told them. He had simply showed up one day, right before it all began. He wasn’t there, not properly anyway,. but he was there. He was there in the backs of everyone’s minds. He was there as he explained away every awful thing like it was a footnote in a novel. He was there as he made and told truth. He was the Narrator. 
He had such an air of control, such an air of change. 
Thoughts (memories?) of a past that never happened flashed through Robin’s mind. Cat was out investigating, Robin was carefully looking over his medical supplies. He couldn’t risk- NO. No. He swept the distraction from his mind. He wouldn’t get carried away, not this time.
The narrator. The Narrator. He had a book. A swirling and swishing mash of colors cover on his book he scribed all their horrors into. That’s where they were. 
“Cat, we need to go. He made a mistake. This… was his first time. We are not supposed to be here. We were never meant to leave. We should try to get out.”
Cat only nodded. Robin didn’t know why he understood or how deeply, but he did. This was a mistake.
The two began wandering the halls. It was strange, being able to think and move again as though his body was still his. To have his mind and thoughts working in a stream of consciousness instead of a thick muddy bog of echos. If he didn’t know any better he’d describe it as feeling more… alive.
He even reached out to guide Cat out of habit. How amazing was it that he had habits again? Cat allowed him to because he knew the comfort it gave him to have something so familiar. Although, of course, not really needing him to. They were both still dead, spirits, memories. Living- not living like this, detached, was like existing with a million tiny radars reaching out all around you. It wasn’t a matter of seeing or feeling, simply knowing. When you were so disconnected from life and itself you were able to get a much clearer and instant idea of the world, he supposed.
They walked and wandered in silence for a while. At least, a while from their perspective. Even with no real idea what or where they were Robin could tell time was… off… here. 
Eventually, they found their way out. There was no exit or pathway they walked through nor was it a sudden jump. They had just… made it out. They were standing beneath the shelter of some trees. It was raining. They were surrounded by unfamiliar structures and landscapes. Of course they were, but this wasn’t just some distant biome or kingdom it was…
“Robin? Are you alright?” 
“I- yes. I’m fine, Cat. This is- I mean, that place is just… wow.”
“It’s... different, yes. This rain is- hmm, it’s weird. I can’t feel it but I know it’s there. It’s making everything fuzzy.”
Robin stuck his hand out. The raindrops sizzled against his skin. He was so focused on the odd sensation he jumped when Cat yanked his arm back.
“What was that? Are you alright?”
“The rain, it stings.”
“Badly? Are you hurt?”
“Not really. It feels like I’m a bar of soap being whittled down by the drops but I’m fine. It only feels strange.”
“Oh, good,” Cat breathed a sigh of relief. “In that case, let’s keep moving.” 
Robin agreed. They didn’t have anywhere to go but neither felt like standing under the tree for all eternity. Besides, they were in a whole new world, maybe even a whole new dimension, and Robin was really curious to see what was with those strange building 
It all seemed impossible. 
His breath was taken away at every turn as they walked. Structures like nothing he’d ever seen before. There were so many colors, so many shapes, so many mechanics, so many things, and all so high and huge. It was amazing. 
“Slow down a little, this rain is really disorienting.”
“Sorry! Sorry, this place is just… wow.”
“So you’ve said,” Cat laughed. “What exactly is so amazing about it? Describe it to me.”
“Well, there’s so much of it. It’s like a town but nothing like a town at all. More like a whole kingdom. A very strange kingdom.  There’s no uniform to it, every build is unique. There was a castle we passed, it was huge and had so many colors! There were just rainbows and rainbows pouring out of every-”
“Mmm, interesting.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“This castle though, it felt like regret, didn’t it?”
“Y-yeah? Kinda,” Robbin had been trying to avoid thinking about that, how he could feel every building. “Uh, over to your side there is a pit, a giant crater bigger than our entire town! It’s tragic. It’s refreshing a little. It’s kind of…”
“Familiar. I- I don’t want to be near that, Robin. Let’s keep moving.”
Robin didn’t agree. He wanted to get closer, to feel what was so sad, so new, so ended, what about whatever tragedy there was familiar. He wanted to understand what he knew would hurt him, and why. 
*****
“No! He would never!” Cat’s voice was rising. It was honestly scary, Robin had never seen him so wrathful. “He is the kindest person you will ever know! He is a protector! He’s- he is-”
“Do you really believe that?” The Narrator asked, calm and unfazed, sorrow creeping into his question. Robin couldn’t shake it from his mind. His thoughts were ruffles like pages flipping backward in a book. Like a pencil rubbing revealing words erased and undone but that had still been written. He was sent back to his flashing memories, his lies, unable to stop them.  
Cat was out investigating, Robin was carefully looking over his medical supplies. He couldn’t risk choosing wrong tonight. He’d been right to focus on himself. No, he’d been lucky. He’d panicked. Cat was out to the town now. Robin was out now. The killers knew they could stop them, they would be targets. The killers…
Part of him wanted to ignore it, to go back to thinking it couldn’t be one of them. That no one would do something like that, that is must be some outside force but Jimmy… they’d gotten him right. Robin winced at the memory of Helga, at how it had almost been him, but they’d gotten Jimmy right. He knew they had, the Narrator said so. 
The next morning, no one had died. Robin hadn’t needed to heal anyone. Cat reported Jack hadn’t left his home. It seemed like, well, it must be Jack. It just had to be, didn’t it? Robin frowned. He liked Jack enough, he didn’t want to kill anyone. He didn’t want to be wrong again but what choice did he have?
Jack was fighting. He was shouting, angry, scared. He was in the exact same place Robin had been a few nights ago. The familiarity burned inside his chest. He couldn’t stand any more of this, it needed to end tonight. 
“IT’S CORNELIUS!  IT’S HIM! IT HAS TO BE! Look at me. Look at me! You know me, I’m simple, I farm potatoes. If Helga was still here she’d remind yall I ain’t good for much else. You really think I could do this?”
Robin couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing. He wanted to believe it. He wanted to spare everyone he could but… Cornelius? Could he really condemn him any more than he could Jack? Could he any less? 
“What makes you think it’s me and not one of them? I know you’re a killer, Jack. You guessed Cat would be on your trail tonight and didn’t kill. Why else wouldn’t someone be dead today?” Cornelius’s voice was as calm and upbeat as ever, if not a bit exasperated. 
“He’s smart! He’s too smart. Look at his freaky, calculatin’ eyes, if you can ever see them. Look at him! Hiding behind that mask, wearing that ridiculous green hood, what’s that smile for, huh? None of us should have trusted him the day he set foot in this town, make up for it now. C’mon! Cat, I know you’re better than murderin’ folks for mayhem. Bob, you’re as simple as me! Robin,” Robin froze up as he was addressed directly “You’re a child, a sweet one. I’m sorry you have to live through this. I’m sorry you’ve been where I am now but I only hope that gives you the empathy you need to make the right choice. It’s him. I swear it’s not me!”
Everything felt stifled. He muffled the distraught protests of Cat in favor of listening to his own. No. No, it couldn’t be.  Everyone in town used to be friendly but Cornelius was a friend. He and Cat had been there for Robin. They’d taken him in, cared for him, treated him as their own son. Well, Cat had. 
Robin slowly blinked. What had Cornelius done for him? Thinking this way made him sick but he needed to be rational here. Did he really believe Cornelius was innocent, truly? He trusted Cat. Cat had proof he was safe, even if he wasn’t an investigator he had years and years of kindness to back him up. What did Cornelius have, really? He was kind, decent enough, but so was Jack. So were Jimmy and Helga. That wasn’t something he could base his vote on. 
So what did make him so sure it wasn’t Cornelius? The only… he realized the only thing holding him up was Cat. Cat loved him. Robin wanted that to be enough. He wanted desperately to go back home, to lay in Cat’s lap while Cornelius told them stories. He wanted to retreat into his memories but when he tried they felt corrupted, tainted, hollow. 
Every time he tried to imagine the kind way Cornelius had ruffled his hair, how he’d giggle and blush after a kiss from Cat, how he’d take off his mask at home and join Robin sitting on the porch, every time he tried to lose himself in the memory of that soft, humored, smile he was frozen inside by the eyes. Even when they were sad or kind his eyes were always vibrant, sharp… calculating. 
Robin took a shaky breath. He didn’t like this, he didn’t want to do this, any of it. He was filled with a numb resolve as he cast his vote. He had no proof either was innocent but he had no reason to believe Jack was capable of this… he knew Cornelius was. 
“The voting has finished,” The Narrator began. “Jack... Jack is the most suspected but this means nothing. Cornelius, by 3/5ths of the vote you have been found guilty. Please, step into the chamber.”
-
“NO!” A scream cut through the faux memory, just barely. Just enough for Robin to hear it. Who had yelled? Cat? Cor- Dream? Himself? He didn’t know, he was still lost.
-
Lost… Robin was so lost. 3/5ths. Cornelius obviously voted for Jack and vice versa, Bob was on Jack’s side, Cat must have voted for Jack even if only to save his love. Robin had been the deciding vote. What had he done? Was he right? Cornelius gave him no answer as he calmly stepped into the cell. The Narrator blabbed on, explaining the votes and who and what but for the first time since the colorful stranger arrived Robin couldn't listen to a word he said, instead focusing on Cat. 
Cat had run to the jail, his hands reaching desperately through the bars. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want this,” he kept repeating. His voice was calm and low but Robin could tell that was desperate. He was putting on an act, trying to reassure Cornelius as though it would all solve itself if he just kept together. Cornelius still didn’t speak. He took Cat’s hand and rested it on his face, under his mask.
Then the grate snaped close and Cat was forced to pull his hand back. He barely moved though, pressing his hands against the wire through the bars. Cornelius pressed his hand up from the other side. Maybe Cat could feel it, maybe he couldn’t, Robin didn’t know which he preferred. 
Part of Robin wanted to put him to back away, to warn him the bars and fence was there for a reason, but the rest of him knew he couldn’t. The least- the only thing he could do was allow Cat this brief moment of closure, if you could even call it that. 
Cornelius still kept silent, for just the briefest of moments Robin hated him. How dare he? How dare he sit there, keeping Cat suffering in silence? How dare he keep Robin in this horrid suspense? How dare he not admit his crimes or keep pleading his innocence? How dare he… how dare… then Robin heard Cat whimper and the anger was gone. 
“We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? We-”
“Well, that’s not gonna happen,” The Narrator laughed, almost callously. If he wasn’t so detached from the world, so different from them he felt innocent even in cruelty, Robin might’ve felt like spitting on him. He couldn’t though, he was different. He was detached. He was like a child who didn’t know any better than to hurt others’ feelings. Like a child except instead of not knowing any better he knew too much. 
Maybe that’s why Robin didn’t lash out or protest as the narrator pulled the lever. Maybe that’s why he didn’t scream as the pistons shifted. Maybe that’s why he only closed his eyes and ignored the shouts of triumph. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry at Jack and Bob for celebrating, at the moment he was only glad their cries drowned out the sizzle. 
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fallsofnoir · 4 years
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Saving Adrien’s Butt (Adrinette)
Adrinette April 2020 - Day 10 Charm Bracelets | AO3
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This came to me in a random burst of creativity. I know it's not the most conventional sort of adrinette fic but I hope you guys like it and laugh along with me.
I thoroughly enjoyed writing it anyway.
This is set after all the five main heroes have revealed their identity to each other.
@adrinetteapril
🐢
“Nino, I’m going to have to ask you to do me a massive favour.”
“Just say the word and I’m on it, bro.”
“I need you to sneak into my room and get something for me.”
“No,” Nino refused. He was not risking it, thank you very much.
“But Nino! You’re my last hope!” Adrien pleaded down the phone.
“That’s like a death wish, I’m not going to be able to pull it off.” He was the least nimble out of all of Adrien’s friends. “Can’t you ask, oh I don’t know, your girlfriend? You know the superhero?”
“I can’t ask her to get this, she’ll kill me first,” Adrien sounded desperate. Nino was pretty sure that Adrien and Marinette knew each other’s bedrooms like the back of their hands but maybe Adrien was hiding something. “She’s going to get back to my house before I am today and you can’t let her see it.”
“Ohhh it’s that sort of thing, sure dude, I’ll grab it before your girl finds it just tell me where it is.”
“It’s on my bedside table, it's pink and green you can’t miss it. I have to go, the directors calling but bring it to the set plea-” He was cut off by someone shouting at him and then the line went dead. Pink and green, who would pick those colours?
Nino sighed as he packed up his lunch. The one day he actually had time to enjoy his lunch and it was taken away from him. Why he was such a good friend, he didn’t know.  He called for Wayzz to transform him and ran, sort of, across Paris towards the Agreste household.
When he reached the house he received a text from Adrien.
Catboy: Try and swing in through my bathroom window, the camera shouldn’t catch you
Okay, that’s good, at least he didn’t have to directly sneak past Nathalie or worse, Gabriel. Swinging in through the window was the easy bit. He made his way through Adrien’s room cringing at what he might find next to his bed. He didn’t need to know what Adrien got up to in his private time, but he’d be damned if he didn’t help a bro out when he needed him.
Oh.
His eyes caught sight of what was on the table. And promptly burst out laughing. Dropping his transformation he collapsed into a fit on the bed.
“Master, is everything okay?” his kwami asked, floating above his head. Nino just pointed at the item and kept laughing. This was just like Adrien.
A knock at the door shut him up. He quickly grabbed it and dove under the bed with his kwami.
“Adrien? Are you home?” a voice called from the doorway. Adrien’s father. “Strange, I swear I heard someone. Natalie, send the maids in. Adrien seems to have forgotten to make his bed this morning.”
He heard the door close and he scrambled out from his hiding spot. That was too close. “Adrien owes me for this.” He brushed down his clothes before transforming and leaping back out the bathroom window.
🐢
Nino was patiently scrolling through his phone when Adrien stumbled off set.
“Did you get it?” Adrien asked as he rushed to his friend. His shoulders were raised and there was a panicked look in his eyes.
“Dude, dude relax, I got it,” Nino told him, reaching into his pocket and pulling Adrien’s most treasured possession. “You owe me for nearly getting skinned alive by your father.”
Adrien grabbed it off him and held it to his chest. “Whatever you want, you’re a lifesaver.”
He raised an eyebrow at his friend. “What’s so important about this anyway?”
“This, Nino,” Adrien said, holding the item in front of his face. “Is my lucky charm bracelet, Marinette gave it to me and I firmly believe some of her lady luck seeped through.”
Nino rolled his eyes. He didn’t get it, but whatever floated Adrien’s boat. “So why couldn’t Marinette see it?”
“Because I wear it every day and promised her I wouldn’t forget it. If she saw I’d left it, I’d have to face those sad puppy eyes of hers and you know I can’t do that. She’ll have me treating her to a home-cooked meal for the next month, and that’s if I’m lucky,” he explained.  A set assistant called out to him and Adrien frowned. “I’ll treat you and Alya to dinner tonight, just tell me where and when you want the table booking for and I’ll do it.”
“Dude, that’s too much,” Nino told him. However nice dinner sounded he couldn’t take it.
“No, I’m serious, let me treat my friends for once.”
Nino ended up giving in and that’s how he found himself suiting up, the non-magical kind, and taking his girlfriend out to dinner.
“What made you decide to treat me to dinner?” Alya questioned once they’d ordered. Both of them were trying to get the money together so that they could rent a flat somewhere and had agreed that dinner’s out had to be far and few between to cut costs.
“I’m not,” Nino said simply. Alya didn’t buy it, clearly. “Okay fine, Adrien is paying. Do you think I’d be able to afford this place?”
“I would have ordered a bigger steak if I knew pretty boy was paying! How did you swing that by the way?”
“He asked me to go grab something out of his house, dude forgot his lucky charm.” Nino laughed about it again. He could see Alya’s eyes light up at that. “What?”
“He forgot Marinette’s charm and paid for you to get it? That is some serious commitment right there,” his girlfriend stated. “At least we know they’re both on the same level of obsessed as each other.”
🐢
Back at Adrien’s, Marinette was contentedly fiddling with the charm bracelet tied around Adrien’s wrist as they sat watching a movie.
“You know, I saw Carapace leaving out your window when I arrived here earlier, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you, kitty?” she asked him with a smirk on her face. “Because I swear I saw him holding something that looked strikingly similar to this.”
Adrien floundered, his free hand started to make emphatic gestures as he denied any knowledge of the occasion. “Why would he have that? I’ve had it with me all day. Couldn’t leave home without my good luck charm. How strange…” Marinette all too knowing look broke him. “Okay fine, you got me, Plagg hid it this morning and I couldn’t find it in time.”
“Don’t drag me into this!” Plagg’s voice piped up from the other side of the room where he was watching Netflix with Tikki.
“I may have forgotten to put it on this morning,” Adrien finally admitted, his head hanging in shame. “Nino got it for me so you wouldn’t find out when you came over before I got home earlier.”
“You’re too cute,” Marinette said instead of chastising him. His head shot up in surprise, so fast he bashed Marinette's nose in the process. “Less cute now you’ve broken my nose.”
“Ah sorry!… You’re not mad?”
“It’s just a bracelet, chaton,” Marinette smiled up at him despite the hand the was clutching her sore nose. “I love the fact that you treasure it so much. But I’m not going to punish you for forgetting it. Unless you’re into that.”
“Mari!”
She giggled and stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re not denying it.”
He refused to answer that. Instead, he moved her hand from her face and planted a kiss on the bridge of her nose. She didn’t let him get away too far before she was drawing his face to hers to properly kiss him.
“Besides I’ve seen you’re Ladynoir fanfiction anyway, I know exactly what you’re into.”
Marinette couldn’t react fast enough before Adrien was throwing a cushion into her face.
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starlightkun · 4 years
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Random, but I always look forward to your Ayakashi updates. I check your account almost everyday lmao 😭🏃‍♀️. One thing I thought was interesting with the jaehyun route is that Marks character is a little different compared to the other members routes. I think it's interesting how the y/n gets to know him better in this route and how he's more vulnerable earlier in the story. Cont..
Cont... Also how mark fessed up to controlling the wraths this time was interesting too. I'm curious what'll happen next. Also I think marks characterization in this route allows the reader to kinda sympathize for him more idk 🏃‍♀️. I know this is jaehyuns route but I keep talking abt mark lmao 😭. But speaking abt jaehyun I liked how he took y/n and the crews ayakashi revelation. Cont..
Cont.. The interaction between Yong and Jaehyun was funny lmao. Anyways sorry for spamming you with a bunch of paragraphs 💀. Looking forward to the next chapter!
yes, im trying to make different dynamics with mark/the wraiths in every route so that they plot doesn’t become too repetitive and im glad thats coming thru!! also bc our sad bby onmyoji boy deserves friends too;; and with jaehyun just accepting the ayakashi and onmyoji.....what else are you supposed to do when your friend’s roommate suddenly sprouts wings in front of you??? and yes poor yong almost saw jae’s dick and then jae brought it up AGAIN after yong had finally purged it from his memory.....rip his innocent catboy eyes #saveyongfromjaeandreaderbeinghornyonmain
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7fics · 7 years
Note
Can I request a markjae wherein can I request a markjae wherein markjae: youngjae is a tourist who just arrived in los angeles and mark is the random skateboard guy he met and they would eventually develop feelings despite of language barriers. fluff :) thank you!
Warnings: swearing, mentions of suicide, probably rated pg-13
Author: Mia
Word Count: 5.5k+
A/N: So sorry for this completely veering away from the prompt because Youngjae speaks very fluent English and he’s also a catboy??? for reasons unknown. And also Angst alert. But there’s some fluff as well so I hope that makes up for it. :3
august nights in los angeles are the reason why mark hasn’t moved down to chicago like tyler is always pressuring him to. sure, he misses his best friend of over six years and would like nothing more than to kick it with him on the daily. but it’s the warm breeze blowing across his front porch, tickling the leaves and making them rustle, the taps and crunch of his penny board rutting over smooth sidewalk, and the umami smell that always hits him in the face when he rolls past tj’s skinny dump, the best place for chinese-korean fusion this side of seventh street, that anchors him here. he wouldn’t trade this feeling, the feeling of waking up to home and going asleep to home and being home, for anything in the world.
he usually takes a quick ride after a heavy night of studying to drain the caffeine from his system and wind down enough to get some type of quality of sleep. good or bad, that’s up to the tides and the moon and black magic because it’s finals week and rest comes around in short, clumsy spurts when the exhaustion finally does his ass in.
mark hits up his neighborhood convenience store for some ramen and monster, truly staples of his diet. he microwaves the ramen in some water and stirs in the soup packet, stuffing noodles in his mouth with some chopsticks as he gurgles out a goodbye to the store’s owner mr. den, a wrinkled vietnamese man of sixty-two with a drinking problem and swearing addiction. nevertheless, mr. den fixes his green polo shirt with a rough hand and waves with the other, always a nice dude as long as no one’s asking for any trouble.
the block mark lives on has a reputation of being that ‘rowdy frat block’; true to the rumors, parties happen on a bi-weekly basis, more often during festive seasons, but regular enough as it is. on a good day, they end in some sick-covered laundry to do and booting of wasted stragglers. fortunately, kappa alpha theta is the preferred spot to throw the craziest rangers, as they are sponsored by one of the members’ insanely rich parents and have a huge swimming pool and alcohol bar. parties occasionally break out at delta tau delta and run into the deep night, but they never make campus news for being the best or greatest. which is okay with mark because he gets to sleep in his own bed most nights and rarely faces sick cleanup duty.
even so, parties or any social gathering of any kind are almost unheard of during finals week. the same week responsible, capable students are reviewing for their exams, party-addicted knuckleheads are blowing their brains out to get something done, and in-betweeners like mark are working moderately hard, not sweat inducing, life contemplatively hard, but hard. with the brain and instincts mark has, pursuing a journalism major and korean minor, he finds a nice ratio of him working it and it working him.
this all said, the streets are usually a ghost town by this hour. which is why he finds a hunched body trembling in the orange glow of the streetlight more than an oddity. some part of his brain is urging him to ignore it. superhero mark is nice and all in the daylight, but a creepy dude under a streetlight past midnight is psychopath serial killer territory. he has some exams in the next few days that he probably needs to be alive to take. but another part is telling him, as he gets closer and hears the quiet sniffling coming from the figure, that he doesn’t look like a serial killer at all. if he is, either he’s a real good one, or mark is a damn sucker, or both.
even if mark wants to pass him up, just feet from his house, almost at the finish line, the guy’s shoulders shaking and his endless crying has mark slowing his steps and eventually stopping right where he is.
against all his better judgement, mark says, “hey, you alright man?”
the guy, boy really, once he lifts his head and mark gets a good luck at his soft features and young face, looks up. his glassy eyes find mark in the dusty glimmer of the light and mark sucks in a heavy, important breath as he discerns a current of fear so thick it nearly shocks him. he hopes this isn’t some trick serial killers use to get their victims to soften up, because mark is falling for it, hard.
but what really hits mark like a frigid ocean wave is the velvet, auburn ears twitching softly in his equally dark hair and the matching tail flicking languidly behind him. he’s a catboy. mark’s never met one before. it’s kinda cool. but the situation itself overshadows the revelation.
the young catboy has a bulging backpack weighing on his shoulders, his entire life probably inside, along with a black suitcase on wheels that he’s using as an impromptu seat. if jaebum hadn’t schooled jackson on the finite differences in physiology of the east asian races, after the ladder let his ignorance slip (something not to be done in jaebum’s company) and mark hadn’t been suffering through every waking minute of it with a dead phone battery and no fake appointment to excuse himself to, he wouldn’t be able to tell that this guy looks korean as hell. and by the ‘america rocks’ button pinned to his thin jacket and the sadness in his pretty eyes, mark can tell he’s a tourist that’s having a strike of very bad luck. to mark, los angeles is his home. but to this poor guy it’s a jungle of unfamiliarity and he must be scared shitless.
that’s gotta suck.
“i’m lost,” he admits finally in a heavy accent. mark shouldn’t be thinking that it’s cute and melting a little because he’s still not out of the danger zone. he could be carrying murder tools in his backpack, it’s definitely big enough.
“and they stole my money,” he adds miserably in elaboration. “i have no money, and i’m lost. i’m stupid.”
“you’re not stupid,” mark can’t help but say, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand holding his black plastic bag, fingers looped through the handles. “uh, what’s your name?”
the guy clears his throat, sucking up his sniffles. “youngjae. choi youngjae.”
“nice to meet you, youngjae. i’m mark.” don’t tell him your last name, idiot. i swear for the love of all that’s good and pure, don’t- “mark tuan.” he points behind him, kind of guessing the direction so he has his eyes on youngjae, gauging his comprehension of the situation. “that’s my frat over there. since you don’t have money, you can crash there tonight and we can figure things out in the morning. what do you say, youngjae?”
youngjae looks troubled, uncomfortable. “how do i know you’re not going to harvest my organs and sell them on the black market?”
mark is equal parts amused and deeply mortified. “american television is crap. it’s all crap, okay? read books, youngjae. i promise not to harvest your organs and sell them on the black market. so come, yeah? i’d hate to have you sitting out here because i can guarantee i’m the nicest person you’ll encounter in downtown la in the middle of the night.”
youngjae’s eyebrows furrow in thought. he casts one long glance at the street before turning back to the hand mark has out stretched to him, a very transparent question: risk it for a cool bed or play it safe and end up roaming downtown la in the dead of night, susceptible to god knows what? for some reason, when youngjae takes mark’s hand and allows him to pull him up, he gets a weird sense of accomplishment, as if youngjae hadn’t just chose short-time survival over very possible long-term suffering.
“let me get that.” mark pulls up the handle of youngjae’s suitcase and rolls it alongside them as they walk, closing the distance between the street and the house with each anticipated step. mark has clocked out his good deed meter and is ready for some blissful, air-conditioned sleep. again, up to the moon and the tides and good ole’ black magic. but nobody can tell him not to dream.
“why are you out here, youngjae?” mark asks curiously as they step through the front gate, barb wire swinging closed with a clink and clack, whining like the antique it is.
“america is very beautiful,” youngjae says wistfully, slight smile visible underneath the porch light as it hums to life. “i’ve read about america in books as a child. the land of opportunity. i never thought i’d get to go. then my mother committed suicide just a month ago. i dropped out of university and worked full time at a cafe, saving money to come here. looks like i’m back at square one.” his coy smile doesn’t hide the tsunami of pain roaring in his eyes, suddenly too much for mark as he looks away.
“i’m sorry...uh, about your mom,” he mutters uselessly. “i’m sure she’s in heaven.”
“or hell,” youngjae blurts out unceremoniously. “suppose you go to hell for that sort of thing. or purgatory. maybe she’s there.”
all other generic, commercialized words of condolence burn at the back of mark’s throat, dying right where they are, cold, metallic niceties that slide down as heavy as iron and drop resolutely into his gut. he coughs out a meaningless “yeah”, like he gets it. he doesn’t.
this is weird.
they walk inside. as jackson is the only one with a car, there’s no way to tell if the others are home. mark’s quiet anyway. always is.
“this is the living room,” he says, and flips a table lamp on. light blooms in the crowded space. the black, suede pull-out couch is swimming in clothes, a mixture of clean and not. empty cans of monster and beer litter the squat coffee table, rings of moisture already leaving their presence on this little piece of the earth where jackson lives to irk mark’s patience. he always tells that slob to get tidy or get out. of course since mark holds no ownership over the house he’s a little out of his jurisdiction to call those types of shots, so jackson mostly ignores him. but he still says it and occasionally jackson likes to play human, doing human things like having some dignity and not crapping where he eats.
mark points to the darkened room right off the living room, left of the staircase, “kitchen”, and then to the room left of that one, “first floor bathroom. help yourself to anything in the kitchen as long as you clean up. i hate messes because no one cares enough to fret but me. need anything and i’ll be upstairs, preferably sleeping but probably not.”
for the first time since he’s seen him, youngjae actually smiles. not a tight grin or nervous twitch of his lips, but a real smile. the kind of smile that is raw and panic inducing and something mark wants to lock in a box forever.
“thanks, mark.” youngjae drops his backpack on the floor and goes over to the couch. mark regains his senses in time to run over and knock all of the clothes on the floor, pulling out the couch into a bed and dragging some pillows and a comforter from the surrounding furniture to make it look somewhat like a decent place to sleep and not just a filthy couch stained with caffeine and virginity.
“no problem.” he waits awkwardly as youngjae toes out of his shoes and lies his jacket aside in quiet task, content.
“do you need some sleep clothes?” mark asks, surveying youngjae’s remaining cotton graphic tee and blue jeans.
youngjae smiles meekly. “would it be trouble?”
“not at all. wait here, okay?” mark goes up the stairs, all nervous and jittery for some reason. he bangs around oafishly in his black room for a few minutes, not having the sense to turn on some light as he focuses on finding youngjae something comfortable to sleep in. he finally decides on some green basketball shorts and a plain white sleeveless shirt.
this is weird, mega weird. he’s letting a stranger sleep in his house, wear his clothes. jaebum’s gonna chew him out for this. it’s almost not worth the headache. he goes back downstairs and hands youngjae the stuff.
“thanks.” youngjae does that thing again where he smiles and mark doesn’t know what to do with the raw and genuine sensation.
“yeah, sure.” oh, jaebum’s definitely gonna chew him out.
he goes back up to his room and collapses in his bed. whatever happens in the morning is for the morning. the caffeine cleanse apparently worked, as he passes out much sooner than expected.
                                                  *   *   *   *
“yo, tuan!”
mark rolls over in his bed, groaning at the bomb of luminescence bathing his room in unrepentant shine, unamused. if jaebum didn’t haunt his dreams on a regular enough basis he wouldn’t be doubting his actual presence. but after a door--his door--slams open, mark groans again, but no longer doubts that the real jaebum is in his room, and angry for some reason lost to his drowsy conscious.
“tuan, i swear to god-”
“jaebum,” mark says in a mock conversational tone, sitting up and kicking his thin sheet off his legs, blinking his eyes open slowly. “to what do i owe this unexpected visit?”
“i could say the same,” jaebum grits out, livid. “what’s a stranger doing on my couch?”
that’s when the gears get spinning and mark looks over at his seething friend, who has what he remembers to be youngjae’s bag gripped roughly in one hand, the other screwed on his hip in impatience. mark understands why he’s mad, knows there’s a dude sleeping on their couch who could still be a serial killer despite his completely disarming smile and shy tendencies. but he’s not one to lose to jaebum.
so he says, “you mean our couch?” even if just to save face.
as expected, jaebum is less than amused at the quip. “i’ll give you two seconds to talk, dumpling face. who is that guy?”
mark stands up finally, and shivers off the rest of his sleep. he refuses to flinch at jaebum’s unrelenting glare. “his name is youngjae. he’s a kid from korea, and he got mugged last night, so i let him sleep here. i couldn’t just leave him outside so something worse could happen to him, jaebum. that’s just cruel.”
jaebum visibly softens, the grip on youngjae’s bag handle loosening and his stare melting a bit, not as hot and unforgiving as before. “he understood you?”
“yeah.” mark shrugs. “he speaks perfect english.”
“dammit, mark.” jaebum’s frustrated more than mad now, which really is an approvement. “you couldn’t be your normal nonchalant i-don’t-a-flying-fajita self?”
“flying fajita?” mark stage whispers.
“whatever.” jaebum waves him off, tossing him the bag which mark catches easily. “take care of it. if he’s going to be staying indefinitely, i want some background info.”
“got it.” mark nods firmly.
“you’re just a regular ole’ clark kent,” jaebum grumbles to himself all the way to his room, closing the door and leaving mark standing in his open doorway with youngjae’s bag and at a loss for what to do next. he loops the bag over one shoulder and pads down to the living room. his fear of youngjae possibly being awake to suffer jaebum’s wrath and feel all unwanted is dissipated when he sees that youngjae is still in deep sleep, half of his face buried in the pillow, softly twitching ears and rising back the only sign of movement. he then sneaks a peek over at the den adjacent to the living room. jackson is knocked out, pacified in slumber by some beer that reeks its way all the way over here.
mark crinkles his nose and moves closer to youngjae, dropping the bag softly as he takes a tentative seat at the sleeping boy’s feet, gazing curiously at his peaceful face. youngjae looks so young that mark is immediately guilty for some reason. he has these soft looking, peach-hued lips and a cute nose. being able to stare so intently, mark also notices a beauty mark under his left eye--well, mark’s left, but youngjae’s right. he’s very pretty; so pretty that mark is lost in him, only aware that he’s being just a bit creepy when those sweet eyes blink open and fix him a perplexed stare.
“uh, sorry.” mark backs up, actually blushing like some chastised schoolgirl. youngjae barely responds, still mostly sleep, only blinking curiously at mark so blankly that mark is forced to ask his next question. “how old are you, youngjae?”
“18,” youngjae says sleepily, rubbing his eyes and fixing to sit up. he’s a baby, mark thinks solemnly to himself.
“you graduated early?” mark asks after remembering some stuff jaebum told him about the age of university in korea being 20 instead of 18 like in the states. he smiles. “you must be smart.”
“dumb enough to get robbed,” youngjae answers cynically. mark’s smile vanishes. he doesn’t know what to say to follow that up. move on.
“do you know anyone out here?” mark asks. “anyone you can call, or ask for a favor?”
“it was really a whim decision,” youngjae admits sheepishly. “i hated being in that apartment by myself. everything reminds me of her. her clothes, her bills, her favorite spot on the couch. everything smells like her.”
mark is really at a true loss when youngjae becomes visibly shaken, choking up on his words and eyes watering. if mark is good at anything, it’s giving people space and letting the dust settle. but he can’t exactly leave youngjae while he’s on the brink of crying, doesn’t want to leave him. he wants to hug him and whisper hushed comforts until he stops crying and making mark feel like an unfeeling ogre as he continues to sit by and do nothing.
who has he let into his house?
“youngjae,” mark says gently, biting his lip in awkward anticipation. “come here.”
youngjae looks up at him then, glassy eyes the same ones that had warped him the night before when mark first saw him, sitting like a sad puppy on the curb and waiting for a sucker like mark to stroll by. his bottom lip is trembling a little, and mark cracks at that. youngjae inspects mark’s open arms for a moment, not too sure what to do with him, and then, to mark’s bittersweet triumph, actually crawls into them.
youngjae sits cross-legged next to him, head cushioned on mark’s shoulder as the man rubs his back, hating the hiccups and shivers that rattle through him. mark’s never been the most clever or timely with words, so he keeps his mouth shut until youngjae calms some time after, shoulders stilling and crying fading into the early morning birds’ orchestra.
“i’m sorry,” youngjae whispers in a quiet rasp. “you don’t even know me. i don’t know you. but look what i’m doing in your house. i really am stupid for coming here. you know, the really sad thing is i realize that after i’ve had my money stolen and have no way to get back. i’m an idiot. i’m so stupid. i’m the biggest dummy-”
he’s knocking his knuckles against his temple so hard that mark worries he’ll crack something, and he swoops in to grab his wrist impulsively. the boy looks up at him quizzically.
“you’ll hurt yourself,” mark answers his unasked question. “and you’re not stupid. you’re grieving. you can stay here as long as you need, or want. as long as you want.”
youngjae smiles finally. “you’re really nice, hyung.”
mark stiffens unintentionally. “hyung?”
“is that not okay?” youngjae sits up in a flash, face suddenly contorted in panicked apology. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to. it’s just, i’m pretty sure you’re older than me. is it weird? should i just call you mark?”
“no, no, no.” mark laughs. “hyung is okay.”
youngjae’s smile returns, and mark knows it’s gonna be the end of him one day.
that’s when jackson’s loud grunt breaks through the peaceful silence, taking youngjae’s attention, something mark didn’t think he would mind until now (because he does).
“jesus fu-”
“idiot.” jaebum comes skipping skipping down the stairs with a joyful smirk, books ladening his arms and backpack slung on his shoulder. he looks much happier than about ten minutes ago. he must have a stash of chocolate in his room. mark wouldn’t put it past him.
“who’s this?” jackson’s irritated frown turns into a curious smile at the sight of youngjae. he’s looking at him the way the man looks at anyone he’s preparing to swoon, and for some reason mark is ready to spring between them because of it. he doesn’t, though. they just met. mark has no claim over this beautiful catboy named youngjae.
that would be weird.
“youngjae,” mark says a bit sullenly, already resigned to this quiet fate. “he flew from korea.”
“i didn’t fly,” youngjae interjects, looking over at mark.
“bus then…?”
“some very nice men and women drove me here,” youngjae says vaguely. mark’s eyebrows pinch.
“you hitchhiked?” mark’s voice raises before he has any control over it, almost hysterical in that instant. “youngjae, that’s so dangerous. you can’t just trust anyone. strangers are off limits, okay?”
“you’re a stranger,” youngjae says cheekily, a very clear smile on his face. mark is disarmed for a very long second, again at a loss for what to do with youngjae. this strange catboy who is lying on his pullout couch, apparently an orphan (though he’s not sure about his dad, maybe that’s too personal though). he doesn’t know what to do with any of it.
“i don’t count,” mark says after a long time.
“okay.” youngjae shrugs indifferently, faint smile still etched on his lips.
                                              *    *    *    *
somehow, mark is able to convince jaebum that youngjae is not a serial killer, despite his own doubts, and he has agreed to let him stay indefinitely. youngjae has his own special magic. maybe it was between the behind-ear-scratches and the content purring; regardless, jaebum and jackson are both infatuated. jackson is more vocal, but when is jackson not more vocal in general?
mark is happy. he really is. but he has no idea what he’s doing at all. youngjae seems fine, most of the times. he’s smiling and munching on jaebum’s secret stash of chocolate (which jaebum doesn’t mind at all, the discrimination!) and being all obliviously cute as he floats around in mark’s slightly too big clothes like everything’s hunky dory.
(it’s not.)
then he’s crying quietly in a corner of the bathroom before startling as mark purposely clears his throat, feigning ignorance as he stomps inside to throw a thin greeting his way.
he thinks they have built up a system that isn’t perfect, but functions somewhat smoothly. youngjae vents to himself, and mark intrudes after some time to keep him from drowning in his own anguish. it’s good. it’s a good system.
then the systems breaks about a week after that.
one day mark actually does walk in on him as he’s crying far too quietly to even be picked up. mark doesn’t even notice him until he’s halfway in his room, shirt already off and hand digging around in his drawer for something less sweaty.
their ac’s old and uncooperative sometimes.
youngjae is wrapped up in mark’s blankets despite the increasing wave of heat blowing through the house, lasting as long as the ac decides to spazz. his ears are flattened against his fluffy hair and he looks so small and sad that a piece of mark dies. the older’s puny desire to hurriedly pull on another shirt to cover his bare torso is disintegrated under the need to move closer to youngjae. which he does.
his shirt is dropped somewhere on the floor on his way to the bed.
“hyung,” youngjae sniffles quietly, big, pretty eyes full of tears.
“do you want me to leave?” mark asks stagnantly. he doesn’t want to at all. but if youngjae says so then he will.
“no.” youngjae shakes his head while looking all vulnerable and hurt. mark slides in next to him, pulling him instinctively into his lap without fretting if this is too intimate. youngjae wraps around him. the top of his head slots perfectly against mark’s warm throat and the little breaths he’s blowing from his nose tickle the skin there. the boy’s tail floats down across mark’s thigh and coils loosely.
“your mom?”
“my mom.”
“what was she like?”
“sometimes she was mean to me,” youngjae breathes unsteadily, wet cheeks signalling to mark that he’s crying again, or more, since he never really stopped before. “she called me mean names and hit me. dissociative identity disorder, the doctors called it. it’s like she had more people than just her living in her head. sometimes she was really nice. she baked my favorite cookies and rocked me to sleep. then she was being mean again,  pulling my tail and tugging my ears until i was so dizzy that i passed out. when i woke up she would often be crying with a new batch of cookies in the oven. she was my best friend and my worst enemy.”
“youngjae, i’m--uh, youngjae--”
“you don’t have to say anything, hyung,” youngjae whispers. “can you please just hold me?”
so marks shuts his mouth, which is the best decision he’s ever made in his life, and holds youngjae in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. he’s not sure if that’s okay at all. but youngjae purrs like he does when he really likes something, and so mark doesn’t apologize about it.
                                               *    *    *    *   
taking him sightseeing had been made a thing with jaebum’s offhanded suggestion and youngjae’s enthusiastic approval of the idea. he sees how youngjae slugs around the house in boredom, pressed thin between the thoughts of his mother, which are so obvious mark can almost drown in them along with him, and youngjae’s own restlessness.
mark is more than apprehensive about it all because as much as the right side of la can be a  plethora of all good things; the bad side can be the complete opposite.
even though mark doesn’t mind seeing youngjae walk around in his clothes, small frame swallowed by the fabric, loves it actually, he would rather other people never have the pleasure. he takes the boy shopping at a high-quality and wallet friendly shop in the mall as a segue to the afternoon leg of their downtown adventure.
the morning had been a rush of breakfast, window shopping, and youngjae touching everything they passed, never letting a single thing go without mulling over it first, endlessly excited and curious and so new to everything. mark thinks he’ll fall asleep to youngjae’s voice going ‘what’s this?’ and ‘what’s that?’ and ‘is that what this thing does?’ because he’s heard it enough to absorb the sweetly pitched tones into his bloodstream. as if he needs anymore of youngjae running through his system than there already is.  
“hyung!” youngjae tugs his arm and drags him over to a shop after they’re done picking out a few bags of nice, cheap clothes that should get youngjae by for at least a few weeks, paired with items from mark’s wardrobe since he won’t ever get over seeing youngjae wear his clothes.
mark isn’t partial to shops with ‘pink’ or ‘stuffed’ in the name just because those things creep him out. also, his sisters used to force him into dresses and makeup when he wasn’t old enough to toddle away by himself, so the trauma’s still there. he’ll brave if for youngjae, though.
he’d brave so many things for youngjae.
“isn’t this one cute?” youngjae holds up this bear thing with freakishly huge eyes and the cheesiest smile mark has ever seen. it’s this pastel purple color that makes the older’s skin crawl. it’s not only cute, but creepily so. killer china doll cute.
“yeah…” mark lies uncomfortably, trying to appease youngjae’s smile with a tight grin. “really cute.”
“you hate it.” youngjae drops the thing with a sigh. his eyes search around quickly after that, widening in delight when he sees something else he likes. he rushes over and mark trudges along behind him.
“what about this one?” he holds up a baby blue pikachu with white blushing cheeks. it’s actually cute and doesn’t look like something he’d open his eyes to at 2am trying to harvest his insides. because mark tends to be as easy to read as black and white print, his approval spills out onto his face and youngjae beams.
mark actually gets the thing because his tight wallet becomes a little looser with youngjae giving him these pretty pouty eyes and pushing his bottom lip out like the sun will stop shining or water will stop being wet if he doesn’t get this blue fuzz thing with the white cheeks, ears twitching something furious.
they have a pair of burgers and fries at the food court before leaving for their next stop. mark won’t forget how youngjae looks at everything like it’s earth’s saving grace, can’t forget how the sweet kitty touches everything with an innocent wonder and amusement not easily replicated by hands that have touched and eyes that have seen and chests that have burned for reasons beside the scorching love for one’s love lost.
the original plan had been to catch the fireworks at six, grab some snack to take home, and be done with their adventure. however, mark’s perfectly scheduled conclusion to their day is derailed when youngjae stops him as they’re walking over to the park, pointing excitedly at a crowd of people huddled around something. upon wandering closer, mark recognizes this man as the one that usually sets up his street magic a few blocks from his house and amuses groups with tricks difficult enough to entertain the average person, but simple enough that mark was able to memorize them in just a month after a dumb bet with jackson that cost him time better spent. he’s not at all impressed, but youngjae is engrossed, gasping generously enough for the man to come closer and let him get a better look at some tricks.
“is it that fun, youngjae?” mark asks with an easy grin, never not fascinated by how the kitty manages to find boundless excitement in the near mundane.
“look at that!” is youngjae’s enthused reply, eyes sparkling and hands mimicking the man’s motions sloppily, completely focused. that’s when mark thinks to himself, infatuated beyond belief, that if spring were a person, it’d be youngjae. he has such a fresh attitude; that paired with his teeming exuberance and virginal glee towards most of anything has mark swooning, falling so hard he’ll need someone to scrape him off of where’s melted in a puddle for this sweet, pretty catboy with bright eyes and a childishly pure trust in others.
dammit, dammit, dammit.
as they’re walking home mark is internally pleased at how they can still still see the fireworks from across the lake and youngjae is ‘oohing’ and ‘ahing’ again as if he has the sole power to see everything in existence through rose-colored glasses. he wants to ask youngjae how he’s feeling about his mom and just talk to him to see if he’s still hurting because mark gets sappy at the curling at dusk when the warm wind is whistling past his ears and making everything loose and quietly blissful. he also wants to press him into his chest and kiss his cute, squishy face until everything else loses all meaning. the only concrete necessity being youngjae cradled in mark’s arms.
none of these things come to pass because youngjae slips his hand in mark’s and the older forgets how to breathe momentarily, exhaling when he needs to inhale and almost passing out before he gets the hang of it again. he spares a sideways glance in the kitty’s direction to see his tail swaying happily in the breeze and a soft smile on his clear, bright face.
not to be dramatic or anything, but it’s a smile that could cure the world of all of its impurities.
“can i stay with you?”
mark startles at youngjae’s honey-slick voice, staring down at him more focused. he must look like a puppy on a leash, but he’s okay with it being youngjae who’s seeing him like this, will always be.
“can i stay with you, hyung? for a long time?” he asks again, tightening his grasp on mark’s hand just the slightest and blinking up at him like this is all he needs. mark doesn’t even need to think, doesn’t care about the implications or strings attached because it’s youngjae.
“for a long time.”
and he really fucking means it.
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