#then i read it today and was so severely underwhelmed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harrystylescherry · 3 years

Text

a/n: god do i love sex...also this isn’t proofread or edited at all

warnings: choking

what is is: some good old fucking

word count: 4k

let me know what you think :)

MASTERLIST

You were so sexually frustrated you could’ve cried.

It had been like that all day—the past few days, actually. It was absolute torture. Harry had been beyond busy with the Grammy’s coming up in the next few days, constantly in rehearsals, constantly tired, and the kind of stressed out that didn’t warrant a sexual release. You on the other hand, were going through some kind of hyper sexual phase. This happened every few weeks or months; you were horny all the time, always wanting to be touched, always all over Harry. Then it would fade and you’d be normal again. Usually, it wasn’t a problem since Harry was always more than happy to help his girlfriend get off. But now, he was too busy and too tired—so you were suffering.

Sure, you could’ve taken care of yourself, but lately, it had become severely underwhelming, anticlimactic, and slightly disappointing. The releases just weren’t the same. You needed someone else’s hands—you needed Harry, but as of late, he was never in the mood.

Because you didn’t want to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with, didn’t want to pressure him into doing something he didn’t want to do, you hadn’t even tried to tease him or entice him. Instead, you had straight up asked him, “So, do you think you can fuck me today?” or “Are you by any chance in the mood to get head today?”

Unfortunately, each time, his answer was the same. He would laugh at your bluntness and then apologize because, no, he was not. Then you would groan and whine dramatically about how you were sure if he didn’t touch you soon you would absolutely die—then Harry would laugh again, kiss you on the forehead, and go about his day. It was absolutely infuriating.

It was day four of your withdrawals and you were sure that your sanity was hanging by a thread. You couldn’t concentrate on anything—not on the emails you were meant to be answering, the call you had with your mom, the tik toks you were scrolling through, the zoom call you had, or on the book you had started reading as a last resort (it was something from Harry’s collection and so not your vibe but you just wanted some kind of distraction). All you could think about was getting railed. It was all you wanted. Forget the kissing, the foreplay, the fingers, all of it—you wanted to be filled. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently, it was.

You heard the front door of the house open and close. You heard him toss his keys in the small bowl next to the door before he kicked off his shoes.

When he entered the living room, you didn’t look up, knowing that looking at him a little sweaty and tired from rehearsals was enough to make you audibly whine.

“How’s my girl?”

“Horny.” It was out before you could stop it.

He laughed softly. “How ‘bout hungry?” He held up the big brown bag in his left hand.

“Food will fill the void temporarily.”

“I thought you would’ve taken care of that by now.” He said as he started to unpack the sushi from the bag.

You groaned. “I told you it’s not the same!”

“I’m sorry, I just—“

“Haven’t been very horny lately, I know, I know.” You slouched and sighed. “Sorry for being so bratty, I’m just…in pain.”

“Pain?”

“Horny pain.”

“Maybe later I can help you out.”

You waved a dismissive hand at him. “No, it’s fine. I don’t want a pity orgasm. And honestly, I think of past the point of fingers being enough.”

“Oh.” You could see the blush dust across Harry’s cheeks.

“It’s fine, really. I’m good.”

“If you say so.” Harry said before dropping a chunk of wasabi into his soy sauce.

***

So, turns out, you weren’t good.

Dinner had finished a little while ago and you and Harry were sitting on the couch, watching King of Queens reruns. You were scrolling through your phone and he was answering emails on his laptop.

Purposefully, you had put a good two feet in between your bodies, knowing that having to be close to him without being able to touch him would just drive you insane. When he leaned over and squeezed your leg almost absentmindedly, your whole body tensed as a pang of need shot through you. You let out a small breath when he returned his hands to his keyboard.

A few minutes later, he scooted closer to you, which caused you to scoot further towards the end of the couch in order to keep your distance.

Harry grabbed your ankle and gave it a small yank. “Hey, c’mere. I haven’t been near you all day. I missed you.”

When you looked over at him with the intention of protesting, the words died in your throat. He was looking at you so sweetly, with a small furrow in his brow that showed his need to be close to you.

You sighed before locking your phone and dropping it on the cushion next to you. His smile was wide when you scooted over to him and settled your head on his chest and threw your legs over his now empty lap. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and kissed the top of your head.

When he brushed his fingers over the back of your neck, you whined softly, the most innocent of touches being too much. He kissed your hair once more before resting his chin on your head so he could watch the show. You ran your finger over his collarbone which was unintentionally exposed by the old, ratty, stretched out Ramones t shirt he was wearing. You traced the bit of the swallow that was showing and let out a long sigh. The warmth between your legs hadn’t gone away at all. Instead, it was growing; you knew what was under his shirt, what his bare torso looked like and just imagining it was enough to make you ache.

“You okay?” He asked as he ran his right hand down your leg in a way that was meant to be comforting—it was not.

“Mhmm.” You said as your eyes fluttered closed.

When his laptop dinged with an email notification, he leaned forward slightly. “Oh, sorry, love. This is important. Just give me one second.” He said as he dropped his arm from around you.

You pulled your legs from off him and set your feet on the floor as he pulled the Mac onto his lap. You rested your chin on his shoulder blade and ran your palm flat over his toned back. When he let out a noise signaling it felt nice, you took the opportunity to dip your hand underneath his t shirt and scratch over his skin. When he let out a soft moan, you felt the spot between your thighs pulsate. You groaned loudly and dropped to your shoulder behind his body. You laid there limp, disappointed and frustrated.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing.” You dragged the word out.

“I told you I could—“

“I swear I’ve never been this sexually frustrated in my life. I think I’m going to cry.”

Harry laughed sweetly. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s not your fault.” You mumbled.

“Can you scratch my back again?”

“Fine. But don’t make any even remotely sexual noises or I will literally have a breakdown.”

“Deal.”

After readjusting your position so that you were sitting on your heel, you moved your hand back to his back. As he answered the email, he gave you direction and visibly tried to not let out any kind of sigh or sound that would indicate that it felt good.

He closed the laptop and turned to face you, causing your hand to drop from his back. “Your turn.” He pushed himself back and laid down on his side. Once he propped a pillow underneath his head, he motioned for you to join him. “C’mere. Lay down.”

You bit your lip before plopping down next to him, your ass hovering precariously close to his front. He pushed your side so that you would lay on your stomach and you obliged, scooting around to get comfortable. When your head was resting on your folded arms, he hiked your t-shirt up as far as he could, accidentally exposing your boobs in the process, but he didn’t even seem to notice. You let out a soft sigh when he began raking his nails over your back, hitting your favorite spots and sending small chills down your spine. Again, warmth blossomed between your legs and you were sure that all it would take to get off at this point was fifteen minutes of this.

He rubbed his palm over your warm skin before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your shoulder blade. When he placed another a little bit lower, you moaned quietly. His hand moved to your hip—and just when you thought he was going to make a move, he pulled you back into spooning position and wrapped his arms tight around you and pulled you close to his chest. He placed a kiss to the top of your ear.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You said before trying to focus on the show.

You were simply going to have to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t interested in fucking you. The thought repeated in your mind when he yawned and adjusted his body to get comfortable. In doing so, he had rubbed his front against your ass, but there was no sign of a boner. It was a sad realization.

You knew it wasn’t that Harry didn’t find you sexy or wasn’t turned on by you. Usually, the two of you probably had sex more than the average couple did and you were always making fun of him for getting hard during moments that didn’t make sense to you, like when you were brushing your teeth together in the bathroom, or you were laying on the couch reading, or when you came back from a run completely drenched in sweat and smelly. It wasn’t a secret that the mere thought of being with you turned Harry on—he was just going through a bit of a sex drive drought, which was absolutely fine.

It’s not like it had ever happened to you before. Of course there were times, stretches of days (usually when you were experiencing PMS), where you weren’t in the mood. Sometimes you just wanted to be cuddled, and sometimes even though you wanted to want to have sex, wanted to be turned on, you just couldn’t. So, you understood the situation Harry was in and honestly, if you were in his position, you probably wouldn’t be in the mood to have sex either. If you were him, you would want to be cuddled, coddled, comforted and taken care of in order to relieve whatever stress you could.

Suddenly, you felt a little bad about all your whining. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t in the mood and you really hoped it hadn’t sounded like you were trying to guilt him into giving you what you wanted or trying to make him feel bad for something he couldn’t control. You knew that Harry knew you were a complainer and didn’t mean anything by all the whining, but you also knew that if you were on the receiving end, it wouldn’t exactly make you feel good.

You sighed softly before twisting around in his embrace so you were facing him. You placed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth and then to his lips which he returned softly. “Sorry for being so whiny.” You whispered.

He smiled. “It’s okay, baby.” He kissed you once more before moving to lay on his back.

You tucked yourself into his side and he scratched at the skin of your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him. When you saw that his t-shirt had ridden up to expose the lower half of his stomach, you started to lightly scratch the area.

For whatever reason, being scratched was one of Harry’s favorite things. Sure, you loved having your back scratched, but that was about it. Harry, on the other hand, often asked for you to scratch his arms, his back, would lift up his shirt and signal for you to scratch the entirety of his torso—even the palms of his hands and the insides of his wrists. At first you thought it was odd, but now it was a natural action whenever the two of you were laying down or he needed to be relaxed.

Since his arm was thrown across his stomach, instead of disturbing him and moving up to his chest, you dipped your hand underneath the band of his sweats and trailed your nails over his hip. You ignored the way that Harry’s body tensed, assuming that it was a ticklish spot and moved to the outer side of his thigh. When he changed after dinner, he had forgone boxers so there was nothing in your way.

When you scratched up the inside of his thigh, he let out a breathy groan, which took you slightly by surprise. Despite the warmth that blossomed between your legs, you ignored the sound and continued to run your nails over his skin. His breathing started coming out ragged, while his grip on your shoulder tightened. When you dragged your nails up the inside of his groin, he let out a long moan and you felt his dick twitch against the side of your hand.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and looked up at him. His eyes were closed, his brow was slightly furrowed, and his mouth was barely open. “Sorry.” You whispered.

When you went to pull your hand from his pants, he grabbed your wrist and pushed it back down. “Please don’t stop.”

You obliged silently and once again began to trail your fingers over his hips, down the insides of his thigh and up over his pelvic bone, purposefully allowing your fingers to brush against his hard on. You licked your lips when precum dripped across your knuckles.

Harry grabbed your chin and tilted your face up so he could kiss you. He wasted no time in slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moaned against his lips while wrapping your hand around his cock and slowly sliding your hand up and down. He groaned harshly into your open mouth and tightened his grip on your jaw.

He pulled your hand from his pants so he had easier access to you. When he ran a delicate finger over your loose shorts, you released a needy whine and he smirked. “That bad?” He asked and you rolled your eyes before forcing your lips back on his.

“Fuck.” He mumbled against your lips when he pushed your shorts out of the way to find you hadn’t been wearing any underwear either. You were dripping, easily coating his fingers as he slid his pointer and middle along your folds. When he stopped them at your center, your hips bucked greedily. When he pushed them in, you fisted the collar of his t-shirt and cursed.

Your sounds were strangled and unfinished, unable to catch your breath as he curled his fingers in and out of you. “Fuck.” You whispered into his mouth. “I want to ride you. Please.”

“Yeah?” He slammed his fingers into you hard and you gasped.

“Baby, please.”

He placed a long kiss to your lips before pulling his fingers out of you. You sat up quickly and pulled off your t-shirt before standing up so you could drop your shorts. Before you could turn back around to face Harry, he had grabbed your thighs and pulled you close to him. He kissed your lower back, right above your ass before massaging it and biting it softly. “Fuck, you look good.” He whispered when you turned around.

Your eyes raked over his naked body—a sight you had missed more than you thought possible and it had only been a couple of days.

Before you could make a move, he had grabbed your hips harshly and pulled you onto him. You settled your knees on either side of his hips as he hurriedly took your nipple into his mouth. You placed your hands on the back of the couch to stabilize yourself while leaning into his mouth. One hand stayed planted firmly on your ass while the other pulled at your other nipple. You whimpered when you sat down and your clit came in contact with his shaft.

He sighed as he moved to suck your other nipple into his mouth and you began to move your hips, reveling in the way his tip slipped between your folds and then nudged at your clit. You gripped at his hair when he started kissing your neck, biting and sucking the soft skin. When you leaned down to kiss him roughly, his hand on your ass moved to align himself with your center.

You slid down slow, a desperate moan falling from your lips. Harry cursed before biting harshly onto your bottom lip.

“Slow, baby. Go slow.” He whispered, knowing you wanted nothing more than to rock your hips quickly against him, your body begging for an immediate release.

You rolled your hips slowly, fighting the urge to buck them harder each time your clit rubbed against his skin. Harry’s hands on your hips helped guide your speed while his eyes were trained on your chest. When he finally looked up at you, he cursed.

“You look so pretty like that.” His right hand moved to massage your breast and his praise tightened the knot in your stomach. “Look at you; just like that.”

You dropped your forehead to his and struggled to keep your hips rhythm.

“Good girl. Fuck, keep going. That’s it.”

A strained moan left your lips as you dropped your face into his neck. Your orgasm was growing quickly and with each bit of praise, you found yourself closer and closer to becoming undone. The friction was too good and Harry’s cock inside of you felt like too tight of a fit. Each movement felt like it could be the one that brought you the release you needed and it was becoming too much.

“Fuck, I wanna come.” You said into Harry’s shoulder.

“Come on, baby.” Harry wrapped his arms tight around your waist and held you as close to him as he possibly could.

You pulled harshly at his hair as you began to feel your orgasm overtake you. “Oh, god.” It was loud and desperate as your hips moved frantically over his. “Fuck, Harry.”

He held you close as you shook against his body and rode out your orgasm. When you slowed down your movements, he released his tight grip.

After you placed a kiss on his neck, he tugged softly at your hair to get you to sit up so he could see you. He slipped his tongue into your mouth while your fingers tangled in his hair.

“Want another?” He asked.

“Mhmm.”

“Stand up.”

He slipped out of you as you stood up and waited for instructions. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you again before turning you around to face the couch. Knowing exactly what he wanted, you kneeled onto the cushions and leaned forward to rest your hands on the back of the couch as you arched your back for him.

“Fucking hell.” He whispered before slapping your ass harshly. He brought his hand down hard one more time before gripping your hips and pulling you back slightly so he could guide himself in. The both of you moaned in unison when he slid in slow.

As he began to thrust harder and faster, he gathered up your hair in one hand and pulled it back which forced you to arch your back further. His other hand stayed planted on your waist while he moaned.

You could hear that his moans were becoming more desperate and his curses were coming out unfinished. He pulled out of you quickly. “You’re too good. Fuck—you feel too good.” He squeezed your waist. “C’mere.”

When you turned around, you kissed his jaw and then his chest.

“On your knees, on the floor.” He commanded against your lips.

You walked around the coffee table and settled yourself on the carpet—soft enough to kneel on, but rough enough to give you rug burn on your back.

“Up.”

You stood on your knees and Harry pressed his chest against your back. He placed his open palm on your stomach and held your jaw with the other. He tilted your head to the side so he had access to your neck and began to suck hard on the soft skin and moved down your shoulder before biting it softly.

He moved the hand that was on your stomach down and nudged your thighs a bit further apart. When he began tracing circles over your clit, you leaned back into him and let your head fall back onto his shoulder. He kissed your temple and moved his other hand from your jaw to around your neck. When he applied pressure, you let out a breathy moan.

“Please fuck me.” Your voice was soft and slightly strained.

“Jesus.” He whispered. “Say it again.”

“Please, Harry. I want you to fuck me.”

He removed his hand from your clit momentarily so he could push his cock back into you. As soon it as it was in, his fingers were back tracing circles over the small bud and his other hand was tight around your neck.

His thrusts were slow paced and it was agonizing. A new orgasm began to build slowly between his cock and his hands, but you wanted it faster.

You reached back and dug your nails into his thigh. “More please.”

Harry cursed as he sped up his movement and tried to hit as deep as he could. He sped up his fingers on your clit and knew you were satisfied when your chest began to rise and fall quickly and his skin started to sting where your nails were dug in so far they were sure to leave marks.

“Oh, fuck. Harry…I’m…Harry—“

“Come on, love. Be a good girl and come.” His voice was thick and raspy in your ear—more than enough to send you over the edge.

Your body lurched forward as a strangled moan flew from your lips. It was more intense than the last since your clit was already so sensitive.

Harry followed you down, unrelenting with his hand and his thrusts. Your body shook between his and the floor as his named mingled with the curses you whispered harshly. Harry kissed the back of your neck and then the side of it, right beneath your ear and your writhed underneath him. Your hips bucked against his hand and with every movement, you tightened around his cock.

As you came down, you reached back, rested your hand in his hair and scratched lightly at his scalp.

He slowed down his movements and burrowed his face in your neck. “Can I come? Please, baby.”

“Mhmm.” Your approval was soft as he pebbled kisses over your neck.

Harry moved his hands to your waist and held onto you tightly while your hand stayed in his hair. His groans were drawn out and his moans were short and needy, while yours were delicate and peppered between whimpers.

“Fucking hell, I’m gonna come.” Harry bit hard into your shoulder as he released inside of you. As his cock twitched inside of you, he sighed and released your shoulder. He kissed the bite and then your back before pulling out of you and rolling over onto his back.

When you went to get up, he quickly pulled you on top of him and moved you so that you were laying directly on top of him, your chest pressed against his. He leaned up and kissed you gingerly before brushing your hair away from your face.

“Don’t ever let me think I’m not in the mood again—especially, if that’s what I’m missing.” His smile was wide and sleepy.

“Trust me, I won’t. That was absolute torture.”

The two of you giggled quietly.

“I love you, baby.” He trailed his finger down your cheek.

“I love you too.”

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aalghul · 3 years

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thoughts on the dc vs vampires comic? theres on 2 issues so far but im going feral over it

Spoilers!! You reminded me to read #2, so thank you.

The glaring issues to me are Babsgirl and the dickbabs is so awkward + I wish Duke was in it. Now that that's out of the way: It seems like a fairly interesting story so far.

Having Otto Schmidt as the artist was a mistake because it takes me ten minutes to tear my eyes away from each page. Especially Hal. God, he looks so pretty in every panel. I was fanning myself like a 14th century maiden when he blended Zan into a smoothie. I'm really looking forward to Evil Vampire! Hal VS Ollie. If Oliver was so apologetic at having to kill a villain, what is he going to do when he gets to his best friend/love of his life?

Speaking of green vs green, Hal killing Barry was a little bit funny, I won't lie, but that's because I just read it. Give me 30 minutes and I'll be crying. Them just meeting up for a moonlit conversation (where Hal goes on about how much he cares for Barry), Hal admitting he pleaded several times to be able to have Barry by his side, them standing face to face like that...halbarry wins and loses today. That last panel, though? Destroyed me.

I don’t have the panel, but Ollie talking to Jade is so funny because he literally calls her “lady”. That is the mother of your granddaughter, bestie.

Now, onto the batfam. As I said, I'm annoyed by abled Babs, obviously. The dickbabs just really sucks, I have nothing else to say. It feels out of place and underwhelming. There's no reason for Duke not to be there when the other bats are, especially since light is his whole thing.

Also, Cass is in her Batgirl costume but they showed a panel of the Outsiders with Cass as Orphan, which means that she became Batgirl sometime between then and now. But Barbara is also Batgirl. We haven't seen Steph yet but I have to assume there's a Batgirls trio going on.

Alfred and Bruce's dynamic is really fun, so far, so I'm hoping neither has to kill the other in this one (looking at you Dceased). This Bruce also looks the most like what Robert Pattinson's Bruce will. Just look at him:

This was hilarious to me because I love it when Jason’s an asshole little brother to Dick, specifically. Dick wants to beat his ass. Source: I’m an older sibling, trust me. Mr. Schmidt, you draw everyone else so pretty, why did I have to exclude the panel of Jason with his hood and masks off because he looked that bad? What did he ever do to you? I do appreciate that he drew Jason leaning on the walls like that. It’s a fruity way of standing.

Nothing to say here but that I love Jay and Cass interactions. Eldest Wayne siblings in one panel <3

#idc how long it's been & going to stay dc's norm cuz i plan on complaining about abled babs every time #mara answers #dc vs vampires #tw abled babs #cant wait for the next issue #watch hal get even prettier somehow

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luckhound · 3 years

Text

— heavy burdens.

pairing. kaeya/gender neutral reader

genre. angst

description. on an important anniversary, kaeya gets drunk off his ass, bonds with a fellow captain, and realizes some burdens can’t ever be set back down.

warnings. spoilers for kaeya and diluc’s character stories. mentions of alcohol and a character (kaeya) being under the influence.

note. four months later and i’ve finally finished this fic after writing it on and off for that whole time mskfjdks a big thank you to sierra, miya, and grace for reading over the previous drafts of this and giving me their honest thoughts, love you ladies <3

He hadn’t expected to get shitfaced when he had first stepped foot in the tavern. Honest.

His plan for the evening was as follows: Go to Angel’s Share, chat with patrons, share some laughs, learn some secrets, and see where the night goes. Only the information he gleaned would tell how it ended; with him stumbling back to his quarters for a night’s rest, or ruminating on how to dismantle schemes that enemies of Mondstadt were concocting in the shadows.

So, the usual. Nothing too noteworthy.

Then he happened to overhear a conversation on the way there.

The two civilians spoke in low, somber tones about how it has been exactly one year since Master Crepus’s death and his son Diluc’s subsequent departure from Mondstadt. How terrible, they mused as they shook their heads, that the new winery master hasn’t been heard from since. He must still be in mourning over his father.

Kaeya nearly stopped in the middle of the crowded street. Was today really the one-year anniversary of Master Crepus’s death? How had it managed to slip his mind? He’s been busy lately with a promising lead, true, but to think that he would forget...

Which, long story cut ruthlessly short, leads him to where he is now. Tuning out his tumultuous thoughts with the help of alcohol and secrets.

Upon entering the tavern to raucous cheers, he had flitted from table to table like the social butterfly he's purported to be. The usual suspects greeted him with varying levels of warmth, inviting him to sit and keep them company. Stable hands and bandits alike shared a drink with him, words spilling from their lips like the fine wine they supped on.

After some time, though, he grew tired of their monotonous days and banal gripes. So he retreated to the bar counter. As he nursed a Death After Noon, he kept an ear out, listening carefully even as he chatted with Charles between customers.

Unfortunately, he hasn’t heard anything juicy yet. So and so is complaining about his wife, while someone else is haranguing her boss, and another is celebrating their birthday. Dull and uninteresting.

Can you blame him for getting so deep in his cups? There’s nothing else to do on such a slow night.

“So this is where you decided to hide out. Colour me surprised.”

Kaeya notes the shadow falling over the counter moments before a familiar drawl reaches his ears. He tilts his head up, blinking furiously when his vision blurs. The drinks he's downed thus far—how many has it been? He lost count after five, how unlike him—have certainly reached his bloodstream.

You stand beside his stool, your lips thinned into an unimpressed line. Despite how inebriated he is, the relevant information he has on you flashes through his mind. A Knight of Favonius. Captain of the Intelligence Team. Once a company grade officer, then sergeant, lieutenant, before ascending to captain upon the retirement of your superior.

As admired as he is by most of Mondstadt, you’re among the minority who are far from his biggest fans. For good reason, he supposes. During your first meeting, he had congratulated you on your promotion, before going on to flippantly insult your old captain. You’ve hated him ever since.

Which is why he’s puzzled by you approaching him first—outside of headquarters, at that. Such a phenomenon is rare, like catching a crystalfly in your hands.

“Captain! Fancy seeing you here,” he greets, adopting a jovial tone. Then your words register in his addled mind. “‘Hide out’, you said? Whatever would I do that for?”

You prop a hand on your hip. “You didn’t make an appearance at the meeting today. Needless to say, the Dandelion Knight isn’t too impressed with you at the moment.” You appraise him, looking underwhelmed by what you see. Ouch. “Strange. You don’t seem terribly ill to me.”

Ah. That. Kaeya had wanted to investigate some curious rumours he’d heard around the city, so he made up a flimsy excuse to dodge the captain’s meeting held this morning. Grand Master Varka likely hadn’t batted an eye over it, but not Jean. She’ll have concerns.

He hums noncommittally. The thought of annoying his oldest ally never fails to bring a smirk to his lips, but he isn’t quite in the mood right now. “Is that so. You must be here to sternly tell me to clean up my act then.”

You scoff. “Surely you don’t need a second babysitter. No, I’m off-duty, so I’m here for the same reason everyone else is: to drink.”

“Hear, hear.” He lifts his tankard as if to toast to you, but the sudden momentum causes him to sway dangerously in his seat.

“Careful!” Eyes widening in alarm, you reach out to steady him. “Geez, Alberich. How many drinks have you had?”

The palm of your hand is warm where it sits on his shoulder; he can tell that even with his furs in the way. He almost leans into the touch but catches himself at the last second. How mortifying. He can just picture your horrified reaction to him drunkenly nuzzling up against you.

Almost falling off his seat in a crowded tavern, instinctively seeking out your slightest touch... He needs to get a hold of himself. Or find a way to halt the conversation here, so he can resume drinking by his lonesome.

“Not nearly enough,” he answers airily, leaning an elbow on the bar counter. You drop your hand to your side; he makes a point to not stare at it as you do. “Where’s your entourage? I’m surprised they aren't following dutifully behind you.”

“They’re my subordinates, not my entourage.” You shift awkwardly. “And they aren’t here. It may surprise you, but they have lives outside of the Intelligence Team. They can enjoy one evening without their captain breathing down their necks.”

He eyes you in amusement. “In that case, you should join me. I would welcome the company.” He finishes off his tankard, then motions to Charles for another drink. The bartender doesn’t even ask which one as he takes the pewter mug. He knows him well by now, after all.

Kaeya expects you to turn him down and find a seat elsewhere. Usually, such an invitation is enough to send you running for the hills. You lean a hip against the counter instead, as if settling in. “If I am not mistaken, you’re needed at headquarters tomorrow. I strongly advise you to call it a night, Captain.”

“Aww, are you worried about me, Captain?” He manages a grin at the scowl his reply elicits. “Don’t be. It won’t be the first time I stumble into work hungover. Certainly won’t be the last either.”

“How reassuring,” you say dryly.

“I aim to please.”

He perks up when Charles returns with a full tankard. The delectable taste of Death After Noon still sits on his tongue, warm and heady. He very much wants to experience it again. When he lifts the mug to his mouth, however, he misses the rim. He steadies the tankard before it empties itself onto his lap, but some of the wine drips down his chin, ruining his vest.

Thank goodness he isn’t drinking red wine. Every adult in Mondstadt knows red wine stains are notoriously difficult to clean. Still, what a waste of a perfectly good sip.

“Oh, for Barbatos’s sake.” That’s all the warning he gets before his drink is rudely snatched from his hand. He protests but can only watch helplessly as you bring it to your lips.

Then you proceed to down it.

His brows raise higher and higher the longer your throat bobs. He's never seen you drink with such gusto before. Shouldn’t you be gasping for breath by now? But no, you empty the tankard in a single go, then slam it on the counter (Charles makes a face, but wisely says nothing) and meet his gaze without flinching.

Wow, is all that his intoxicated mind can conjure up at the feat.

“There, all done. Now let’s go. I am walking you back.” Your voice is firm, brooking no argument. How captain-like of you. “Wouldn’t want Mondstadt’s illustrious Cavalry Captain to be found passed out in an alleyway tomorrow.”

On any other day, he’d be mildly irked by your stubbornness. But he did just spill his drink down his front like a newborn babe. No wonder you brought up his rank. In your eyes, his conduct must not befit that of a high-ranking knight. He doesn’t care what assumptions people form about him, never has, but tonight has been a bust anyway. Maybe it's best to call it quits.

Sighing theatrically, he rises to his feet. “All right, I know when I have been beaten. But don’t change your plans on my account. I can head to the barracks by myself just fine.”

“I’m sure you can,” you say, “but letting you walk alone this late in your state would grate at my conscience. So would you stop talking for once, and let me take you home?”

You get what you want. Your words render him silent.

Home, you called the barracks. He supposes you consider that place your home. But is it his, truly?

He thinks of Khaenri’ah, nothing but a distant, bloody memory. He thinks of his father, and how in their final moments together, the man had stared through him like he wasn’t there. He thinks of the Dawn Winery, where he had spent several years causing mayhem. He thinks of Master Crepus, never dad, and a brother who doesn’t exist anymore.

No, the barracks aren’t his home. Maybe he’s never had one to begin with.

When he comes to, Kaeya registers you leading him in the direction of the tavern door, your hand on his shoulder blade. This quickly catches the attention of the patrons. They call out their goodbyes, some raising their tankards and others chuckling good-naturedly.

“Look at that! Our Cavalry Cap’n had too much to drink, eh?”

“What, are you tapping out already, Captain Kaeya?”

“Has to be escorted out by a fellow knight, no less!”

You wave over your shoulder. “Just doing my patriotic duty, that's all.”

Kaeya gives his audience an exaggerated wink (as well as he can with his one uncovered eye) followed by a lazy hand salute. His grin remains fixed in place until the door swings shut. The wooden barrier barely muffles the sounds of conversation and merriment coming from within.

Had it been that loud while he was inside? He hadn’t noticed.

He isn’t able to dwell on it for long, because you nudge him in the direction of headquarters. “Come on. We have a bit of a walk ahead of us. Let’s get to it.”

“Oh, very well. But only because you asked so nicely.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“I know. I was being sarcastic.”

You nudge him harder, and he snickers under his breath as he walks.

This time of night, the cobblestone streets seem devoid of life. With the exception of Patton, who’s practically asleep standing up, the two of you don’t run into anyone. It's a stark change from how the city usually is, bright and bustling with crowds.

It suits him just fine, though. The crisp night air is sobering him up somewhat, the fog that had settled over his mind thinning. All too soon, he recalls everything he was trying to suppress.

Master Crepus. Diluc. His callousness and cruelty in forgetting them both.

In hindsight, he should have taken his mug back from you instead of just gaping like a fool. Sobriety is such a drag.

“You’re quiet,” you comment. You’re staring at him intently, your expression eerily similar to Timaeus’s when he is observing an alchemical reaction. It’s as if he is a specimen that you are keen on studying under a microscope.

He wants to scowl, to snap at you. “My apologies,” he says instead, as innocent as can be. “Were you waiting for me to strike up a conversation? Hold on a moment, let me think of a good topic...”

“That is not what I meant and you know it. It’s just, usually it’s impossible to get you to stop talking. The times I have seen you...indisposed”—buzzed as a bee, you undoubtedly mean—“that doesn’t change. You talk more, if anything.”

Curiously, your voice softens, an odd cadence colouring it. One he has not heard from you before, not directed at him at least. “I guess I’m just wondering if something is weighing on your mind. Is that what prompted you to drink so much tonight?”

By now, the two of you have walked down the stairway to the Knights of Favonius’s bulletin board. Of course, Hertha isn’t there this late to assign requests and bounties. The pieces of parchment pinned to the board flutter in the breeze. He stares at the sketch of a Ruin Guard, willing his sluggish mind to craft a suitable answer.

After a beat, his eye slides over to you. An impish grin curls at the corners of his mouth. “My, I had no idea that you watched my every move so closely. I’m flattered by the attention.”

Predictably, you sputter. “What even—that is not—you know what, if you want to dodge the question so badly, fine. We can just walk the rest of the way in silence.”

“As you wish, Captain.”

Although his words were said to fluster you into changing the subject, as you had correctly deduced, Kaeya means them. You have noticed him far more than he realized. As Captain of the Intelligence Team, it’s your job to be observant and keep tabs on others. He knows that. Still, it’s disconcerting to learn that you’ve had a close eye on him in particular.

He operates from the shadows for a reason; he can’t have you jeopardizing that by shining a light on him. Five months into your new position, and already you have proven yourself to be dangerous.

As you wished for, silence reigns as the two of you turn into an alley and approach two flights of stairs, leading to the center of the city. Kaeya resists pressing a hand against the nearest wall for balance. He had walked down a stairway unaided just moments ago, despite how unsteady he felt. Surely ascending some steps would prove to be easier.

Rather than focus on his feet, he looks up ahead. From his position, he can just barely glimpse the blades of a windmill, ever-turning against the dark backdrop of the night sky. He keeps his gaze there as he climbs, his boots scraping against stone.

He clears the first flight of stairs with little issue. See? Nothing to it.

Halfway up the second, Kaeya stumbles.

His surroundings tilt, blurring as he fumbles for balance. It’s a futile effort. Thanks to how inebriated he is, his limbs are too heavy and uncoordinated. The stone below rushes up to meet him.

Before his face can greet it, however, you catch him.

Your side moulds against his, a hand clasping his hip while the other carefully grasps at his spiked pauldron. His gloved hand covers yours reflexively as his racing heartbeat settles. He feels you stiffen at the touch, but you don't pull away. Neither does he.

For a moment, not a word is spoken between you both. The alley is filled only with the soft sound of breathing.

Then you click your tongue. “So much for heading back by yourself. You can barely keep your feet under you.” Your voice lilts with humour.

He knows this song and dance. It has been ingrained in him after all these months. You snark at him, he snarks back. Rinse and repeat. Although this is the first time he has heard levity in your tone; the first time it has been aimed at him, that is. He almost hadn’t thought you capable of it.

He straightens with a chuckle. “First at the tavern, and now in an alley. I just keep falling for you tonight, don’t I?”

You blink owlishly. It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Then a flustered expression crosses your features, before you compose yourself. “You are unbelievable.”

He grins. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You roll your eyes, even as the corners of your lips twitch. “You would.”

Kaeya expects you to move away, so the two of you can resume walking, but you don’t. “Not that I mind having your hands on me, but...will you be letting go any time soon?”

“That depends.” A challenging glint appears in your eye. “Can you handle walking on your own? Or do you need me to cradle you the rest of the way to headquarters, like some damsel?”

He guffaws, taken off-guard by the retort. A reply escapes his loosened tongue before he can think better of it, “Archons, that sounded just like him.”

“Like who?”

“My brother.”

In the past, despite being underage, he was sometimes able to charm bartenders at Angel’s Share—new hires unaware of how to deal with him as of yet—into serving him drinks. Diluc would find him eventually, a disapproving twist to his mouth, and put a stop to it.

Back then, Kaeya was a lightweight and had to be supported back to headquarters. Diluc would scowl and roll his eyes the entire way, but there was still a softness in his gaze. His hands were strong, but careful; Kaeya knew that his brother would not let him fall. He could even be persuaded to join in when Kaeya began to sing, their off-key voices disturbing the silence of the night.

Come morning, while Kaeya nursed the inevitable headache and Jean nagged him about violating the Knights of Favonius Handbook, Diluc would snort. “Serves you right,” he’d say, then hand him a draught for curing hangovers.

Now Kaeya must weather the pain alone.

You tilt your head to the side, your gaze fixed on his. “I had no idea that you have a brother,” you say softly.

Had, he nearly corrects. But he has told you too much already.

This is why he is so careful when drinking in the company of others. Alcohol is a double-edged sword; as delectable as it is, it also loosens inhibitions. It’s what he relies on when charming information out of allies and adversaries alike, none of them the wiser of what they have given up.

How the tables have turned.

“Well, now you do.” A trace of bitterness enters his tone.

You eye him, quiet, before pulling back. You motion forward with your chin. “Let’s keep moving. We’ll never make it to headquarters at this pace.”

Relieved by the subject change, he listens. He makes a conscious effort to place one foot in front of the other, gaze trained on the remaining steps below. You stay at his side, closer than you were before. He can feel your hand hovering at the small of his back, ready to catch him should he trip once more, but he ignores it.

It won’t happen again. He’ll make sure of it.

The alley opens up to a view of the market district. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have long to enjoy the reprieve. The two of you turn right, away from the railing overlooking the main square, to climb two more flights of stairs. A left, and more stairways await.

By the time the Knights of Favonius Headquarters looms above you, Kaeya’s legs ache from the walk. He is very much looking forward to retiring to his quarters.

The knights stationed outside stiffen at the sight of you and Kaeya, standing at attention. They perform a salute in perfect unison. Do they rehearse that before every shift? Surely they must.

The guard on the left, with the glasses and unfortunate haircut, chirps, “Good evening, Captains! I hope you are doing well.” He appears wide awake despite the late hour.

At least the one on the right looks appropriately haggard. “Welcome back,” he grunts.

While Kaeya brushes past them with a nod of acknowledgement, eager to head inside, you stop. “Good evening, Athos, Porthos. Your shift ends soon, I hope? It can’t be terribly interesting, standing watch outside headquarters so late.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Captain!” Athos, as you had referred to him, says. “Guard duty may not be glamorous, but it is still important.”

“Much as I agree with the lad, I can’t bring myself to be so damn cheerful about it,” Porthos sighs, his words tinged with self-deprecation. “Must be ‘cause of these old bones.”

“That’s not true, Sir Porthos. Your bones aren’t that old!” the younger knight argues, prompting the older to shake his head with a chuckle.

“Athos isn’t wrong,” you add. “You are far more sprightly than most knights I know.”

“If that’s true, then Mondstadt is in trouble.”

Smiling and shaking your head, you finally pass by them, climbing the short steps to return to Kaeya's side. He lifts a brow as he pulls on one of the large oak doors, holding it open for you.

It’s almost comical how quickly your smile disappears. Your eyes narrow as you enter inside. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” he says breezily, following after you. The door falls closed behind you both with a loud, echoing thud. “Just that I didn’t know you were so chummy with the guards.”

It is blindingly bright inside the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, as if it isn’t nearing midnight. The sconces on the walls are lit up, as is the chandelier hanging in the center of the main hall. The two of you make your way towards the—joy of all joys—staircase. The barracks for knights are located on the second floor, and on the floor above that, separate quarters for the captains.

“I am off-duty right now. It’s not unprofessional for me to speak informally with them.”

His eye widens. “Why, I never said it was unprofessional, Captain.”

You grind your teeth so hard he can practically hear the enamel wearing away. “You implied it.” No, he didn’t. Your distaste for him has you imagining mockery where there is none. As if Kaeya has any room to judge someone for acting unprofessional.

“I did? That’s news to me.” Privately, he marvels at how easily he can agitate you. Him, no one else—he has observed you long enough to know your prickliness is reserved for him alone. Maybe that’s why he annoys you further instead of clearing up the many miscommunications that tend to occur. Not that you’ll believe him, even if he’s being completely honest.

You huff. “How the Dandelion Knight manages to put up with you, I’ll never know,” you mutter.

“How rude, Captain! Jean doesn’t put up with me, she considers me indispensable.”

You cut a look at him. “Yes, I’m sure she thought the same when you failed to show up to today’s meeting.”

“Must you bring that up again? I shudder just thinking of the lecture she’ll have ready for me in the morning. Perhaps my mysterious ailment should plague me for a little while longer...”

“Prolonging the inevitable will do you no favours.” You pause briefly, then add, “Ah, I almost forgot to mention. After the meeting, I ran into Inspector Eroch. He was waiting outside and asked after you. He seemed irked when I informed him that you were absent today.”

If Kaeya was not so skilled at masking his reactions, he would’ve perked up at that. He might have even stopped in his tracks or whipped his head around to look at you. But he knows better than to give himself away so obviously. He leisurely climbs the steps, his features revealing only vague interest. “Oh? Somehow I doubt he was upset out of concern for my wellbeing.”

You glance over. “I wouldn’t know. He did not say anything when I asked why he wanted to see you, or if I could pass on a message. He just brushed me off and left.”

“Don’t be hurt by his shameful conduct, Captain. I for one enjoy your company immensely.”

You ignore his thoughtful statement. “I thought that he might have had a prior engagement with you, which you missed due to being terribly ill.”

He shrugs. “If we did, I don’t recall it.”

That earns him another look, longer than the one before. He doesn’t flinch away from it, his expression remaining serene. Privately, he wonders what you know. Are you merely intrigued by what Inspector Eroch might want with him? Or are you more aware than you’re letting on?

After all, Eroch is the one Kaeya has been secretly investigating for the past year.

Looks like the inspector has caught on. About time. No doubt he wants to figure out just how much Kaeya knows—which is not much, unfortunately. He knows that Eroch has more than just Mondstadt’s best interests in mind; a Fatui spy like him would have just the opposite. But he is unsure what the man is up to, or who he even is.

He does, however, have an inkling. Several, even.

Inspector Eroch had been insistent on covering up the details of Master Crepus’s death. For the good of Mondstadt, he claimed, not wanting the citizenry to lose faith in the Knights of Favonius. Grand Master Varka had ultimately sided with him. It resulted in Diluc resigning his position and leaving the city a year ago.

Kaeya had kept an eye on the inspector after that. He knew there was more to the situation than just preserving Mondstadt’s trust in the Knights, and it had everything to do with the dangerous and evil power Master Crepus had harnessed. It was only a matter of figuring out what. And once he has all of the information...

Well, he knows what Diluc would do, once upon a time. Blazing with righteous fury, he’d take his findings to Grand Master Varka, insisting on Eroch’s arrest and expulsion from the Knights of Favonius. He would see it as retribution for how poorly his father’s death had been handled.

But Kaeya suffers from no delusions. Maybe he looked into Eroch because of Master Crepus. Maybe he wanted some kind of revenge for what happened. Maybe he yearned to atone for his past inaction. None of that means he has any heroic intentions.

If it serves his interests better, he won’t expose the inspector immediately. He will hoard his knowledge instead, keeping his cards close to his chest until it’s the right time to play them.

That is how he has always operated. Master Crepus's death and Diluc's departure have not changed that. For a brief, nonsensical moment, he wishes they had. Then common sense returns to him. A foolhardy sense of justice is of no use to him. He’ll leave that to Diluc.

While he extricates himself from his wayward thoughts, you turn away to clear the last few steps. “If it is important, surely he will try to approach you again,” you say.

“I look forward to it with bated breath.”

You scoff, rightfully skeptical, but don’t respond. Clearly, you are content to leave it at that.

He wonders at how easily you let the subject drop. Had you suspected something, you would have pushed to learn more, wouldn’t you? Now is as opportune a time as any; it’s late, he’s tired and drunk, and the both of you are alone. Does that make you oblivious, or an idiot, or crafty?

Having made it to the third floor, the two of you make your way down the hallway. His quarters are before your own, three doors on the left. He stops in front of his door, reaching into one of many hidden coat pockets to produce his key.

He glances at you. You have yet to leave for own your room. “You don’t have to hover at my side, you know,” he says with a touch of amusement. “I may be tipsy, but I am no longer in any danger of being harassed by ruffians or passing out in the streets. Unless you're secretly harbouring nefarious intentions towards me, Captain.”

“You’ll just have to wait and find out,” is your unruffled response.

Chuckling under his breath, he unlocks his door and lets it swing open wide. It’s dark inside, faint moonlight shining through the small window above his desk. Coupled with the sconces out in the hallway, however, there is enough light for him to stumble to his bedside without stubbing a single toe. He doesn’t bother to close the door on you; he has nothing to hide.

Kaeya knows what his quarters must look like to a stranger. They’re a mess, as if someone had searched them in a haste and not bothered to clean up afterward. The walls are bare, save for a map of Mondstadt that he’d hung up ages ago. Tomes of all sizes and loose leaves of parchment litter his oak desk, pushed up against a wall. A quill lies abandoned atop a half-finished note with ink drying on its nib. His closet door is cracked open, a discarded boot dissuading anyone from forcing it shut.

Yes, his quarters are a mess. But he knows exactly where everything is. Should someone actually attempt to search his things, he would know immediately. Not that they would find anything particularly damning. He isn’t foolish enough to leave important documents or sensitive information lying about—nothing he is unwilling to part with, anyway.

“Horrifying, but unsurprising,” he hears you mutter to yourself.

Kaeya doesn’t even consider slipping out of his ruined clothes or engaging you in further conversation. Now that he has made it back to his quarters, all he can think about is the sweet embrace of sleep. He sinks into his unmade bed, draping an arm over his face.

You continue to linger in the doorway. “You should change before you fall asleep.”

“Mhm.”

“You'll regret not doing so in the morning.”

“Uh-huh.” He still doesn’t move.

“Alberich. You stink of booze.”

“You sure know how to compliment a guy, Captain. I’m impressed.”

You sigh, long and loud. He waits to hear the door close behind you, only for you to walk up to his bedside. Your steps are slow, hesitant yet purposeful. He stiffens, immediately on-guard, but fights his instincts in order to remain still. What are you planning?

He feels you grip his boot. Metal jingles as you undo the buckle. Then you pry it off.

He lifts his arm to peer up at you. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” You set his boot on the ground, then move on to the other one. “If you won’t change, you should at least take off your shoes. You’ll dirty your sheets otherwise.”

Oh, you make it so easy for him to twist everything you say into an innuendo. For once he resists the urge. “You forgot something,” he says instead. He wiggles his sock-clad foot at you. Just to see if you will do it.

You grimace, swatting his leg away. “Absolutely not. I don’t want to be anywhere near those.”

So you say. But you’re taking his boots off for him out of your own volition. There is no need for you to do any of this. It’s not your duty to stop him from drinking himself into a stupor, or walk him back to headquarters unharmed, or all but tuck him into bed. Yet here you are.

What is it that you want? There have been plenty of opportunities for you to try and take advantage of his drunken state, but you have sidestepped every one. Frustration brews in his sternum.

“Do you do this for everyone who you hate?” he finds himself asking, tone purposely lighthearted.

You pause in your ministrations to stare at him. “What? I don't hate you.” At his disbelieving look, you insist, “I don’t. You have always been a pain to deal with, sure, but I never once felt that way.”

He smiles, unconvinced. “Not even when I insulted your dear old captain?”

“Insulted my... That was months ago, when we first met.” Despite your bewilderment, you take a moment to contemplate his question. “I was upset with you, yes. But now that I’ve had this position for some time...maybe your assessment wasn’t off. When I was lieutenant, I didn’t always see eye-to-eye with my captain. They were too set in their ways and scorned most criticism. I respected them, and still do, but I shouldn’t be ignorant of their faults.”

Your gaze meets his once more. “In a way, what you said that day led me to realize that. You weren’t badmouthing my captain; you didn’t have a vendetta or want to get a rise out of me. At least, I don’t think you did. You must have legitimate issues with their leadership, as a captain yourself.”

He watches you shrewdly. Your tone was even, your expression clear. He cannot detect any deception from you. Of course, that means little. Still, perhaps you’re telling the truth. Perhaps you don’t hate him after all.

A headache, newly formed, pounds at his temple. If he were more sober, he would be better equipped to handle such a revelation. He’ll have to come to a proper conclusion later.

You fiddle with the buckle on his remaining boot. “And what about you?”

“Hmm? What about me?”

“You have ample reason to look down on me. Most of the knights know that you aren’t just Cavalry Captain and Quartermaster. Your role is more important than that. Surely you would make a better...” you trail off, your jaw working silently.

Kaeya knows how that sentence ends. Surely you would make a better Captain of the Intelligence Team than me. It doesn’t come as a surprise.

Up until now, he thought he knew you well. You made it no secret you loathed him. You have never said so explicitly, but he has a talent for reading people. It’s a classic case of envy. He has seen it many times before. You compare yourself to him and find yourself wanting. It colours the way you interact with him; your words brusque, your gaze narrowed.

Not only did he insult your captain, but you consider him more capable than you. Your hatred makes sense. It’s predictable.

Or so he believed, until tonight.

“You know what, never mind. Forget I asked.” Uh-oh. Seems he took too long to respond. You busy yourself with unbuckling his boot, avoiding his eye.

If he were to be honest, there are many ways he could answer you. He thinks you are a better captain than your superior could ever hope to have been. He thinks you are a leader capable of inspiring undying loyalty in your officers. He thinks you have a deep, unflinching love for Mondstadt and its people. He thinks you constantly push yourself to greater heights, to the point it lights a fire in him as well.

He admits to none of those things, in the end.

“Give yourself some credit, Captain,” he murmurs. You glance over in surprise. He meets your gaze. For perhaps the first time in a while, he hopes his words sound sincere—not because he doesn’t mean them, but because he does. “I know the officers under your supervision think you’re a good leader. They wouldn’t want anyone else to take your place.” Certainly not someone like me.

Instead of reassuring you, however, his answer seems to do the opposite. You look frustrated. “That isn’t what I...” you trail off. You search his features, silent, before your brow furrows. “I can’t tell if you mean what you just said. Sometimes I’m not sure I ever can.”

He takes care not to allow his features to visibly harden. Of course you would doubt him, the one time he tries to be honest with you. What else did he expect? Maybe you don't hate him, maybe you never have, but that means little. You won’t ever fully trust him. To be fair, the feeling is mutual.

His mouth tastes unbearably bitter. It must be the wine.

“At this point, I’m willing to say just about anything if it’ll mean I can get some shut-eye.” He feels no satisfaction upon seeing your shoulders stiffen. He still manages to grin. “Well, Captain? Any other requests?”

“No,” you say. Then you tug off his boot with a brisk motion.

He stifles a yelp. “Hey, now! No need to be so rough.”

“My sincere apologies.” You set the boot down next to his other one, your lips thinned. “I should go. Wouldn’t want you to lose more sleep than you already have. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, after all.”

Talk about vindictive. Despite his irritation, he has to fight a smile. Knowing you, you’ll see it and take it the wrong way, as you usually do.

Having finished removing his boots, you turn and walk for the door without another word.

He’s struck with the odd urge to stop you. To reach out, take your hand in his, and tug you back. Not because he wants something from you, or needs to tell you something. He wishes you would stay a little longer, that’s all. Wants the silence to be filled by your voice instead of his thoughts.

Now he knows he’s had too much to drink. He’s contemplating such ridiculous things.

Before his addled mind can catch up and he can say something, apologize perhaps, you shut the door behind you. Your footsteps travel down the hallway, slightly hurried. The door to your quarters creaks open then closed.

He’s too late. It’s for the best.

Kaeya lies back and stares up at the ceiling. His vision swims, as if he’s adrift at sea. Closing his eye only makes it worse.

His mind pores over the events of the day. Investigating Eroch, remembering Master Crepus and Diluc, visiting the tavern, running into you. He feels restless, pulled in several directions at once.

With a harsh exhale, he rises to his feet and locks his door. Then he begins his nightly ritual.

His pauldron is first to go. It hits the floor with a dull noise. Then he peels off his gloves and tosses them on the desk. The burns on his hands have long since healed, but he still deals with numbness now and then. Not many know they even exist; he doesn’t want anyone taking advantage of a potential weakness. His eyepatch follows closely after.

He removes the Cryo Vision from his belt last. He stares at it, its blue glow washing over his scarred palm and turning his skin a sickly brown hue. If it’s been a year since Master Crepus’s death, it has been about a year since he was gifted a Vision as well. The sight of it has been a hard reminder ever since. Of how he’d won a difficult battle. Of how he’d finally revealed the truth. Of how he can never speak it again.

He tucks the Vision under his pillow, then collapses back into bed. An odd sensation fills him, as it does every time he completes this ritual. It’s like he has taken off every scrap of armour he has and foolishly exposed himself to danger, despite being alone in the stillness of his quarters.

Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling, he closes his eyes and waits for sleep to take him under.

It never does.

#genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin impact #kaeya alberich #m writes #i can't believe this is finally finished n uploaded... wrow #never thot i'd see this day #i'm nervy posting this ngl it's been. a while since i've written smth like this #hope y'all like it !!!!

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 295: So How Are You Holding Up (Because I’m a Potato)

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi randomly and graciously decided to answer all of our long-standing questions about Mr. Compress, including “is he secretly hot,” “is he secretly related to that Robin Hood thief guy,” and “is he ever going to use his quirk to chain chomp a hole right through his ass??” with the answer to all three being “yes, of course.” As for our follow-up questions, “sir, is Mr. Compress going to die,” and “holy shit,” his answers were, respectively, “wait and see,” and, “I understand, really I do, but that isn’t actually a question.” Well, he’s got us there.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi finally ends the War arc with the speed and grace of an overworked college student scrambling to BS their entire midterm essay with five minutes left before the deadline. Deku’s Spidey Sense is all “what up, I exist, p.s. you’re in danger kid” like oh shit, no, you think?? Compress is all “I’m not gonna die but I am going to pass out and be captured” and honestly, at this point I’ll take it. Spinner is all “Tomura you can have this one last Souvenir Hand I found that was in the oven for too long” and slaps it on his face because HE’S JUST TRYING TO BE HELPFUL, SHUT UP. Dabi is all, “[currently in a marble].”Tomura is all “actually, I’m AFO.” AFO is all “hahahahaha” and summons all of the remaining Noumus to cart him and Spinner and Dabi off to safety. Deku is all “DAMMIT TOMURA I’M REALLY MAD AT YOU FOR KILLING, AND I QUOTE, ‘AN UNBELIEVABLE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE’, BUT AT THE SAME TIME, GET THIS, I TOTALLY WANT TO SAVE YOU TOO! LMAO ISN’T THAT WILD.” Fandom is all “OH MY GOD, NO WAY, is what we would say if we had literally never met Deku before, I guess.” And then the arc just ends, lol. See you in the new year, kids.

WAKE UP, LINK... I MEAN, DEKU

jesus christ Vestiges, not a one of you guys has got any chill at ALL. LISTEN TO ME. THIS CHILD IS DEAD. HE IS DECEASED. LOOK AT HIM. HE’S LYING THERE ALL DAZED WITH HIS ARMS AND LEGS TURNED INTO GREEN PUDDING AND YOU’RE ALL “GET UP LAZYBONES” LIKE I SWEAR TO GOD. CAN HE JUST REST?? CAN YOU ALL JUST CALL IT A DRAW WITH THE VILLAINS ALREADY SO WE CAN FINALLY END THIS TRAUMATIC ARC AND MOVE ON TO THE NEW “TRIAGE AND ROBOT LIMBS FOR EVERYBODY” ARC INSTEAD

LIE BACK DOWN YOU IDIOT!!

no you didn’t pass out because of a ~heatwave~, you passed out because he set you on fire while you were out here shooting Blackwhip out of your mouth with your SPINDLY ACCORDION LIMBS dangling uselessly from you like WINDCHIMES you RIDICULOUS BOY

“where’s Todoroki-kun” oh shiiiiiiit. right. god I hope someone caught him. BAKUGOU OWES HIM A FAVOR, HOW ‘BOUT IT

OH NEVER MIND HE APPARENTLY CAUGHT HIMSELF??

Todoroki Shouto has really highkey been the MVP of the entire fourth quarter of this arc. he deserves the world, and odds are all Horikoshi’s going to give him are lasting trauma, and a souvenir shirt that says “I survived this stupid arc and all I got was this t-shirt”

anyway now Deku’s being hit by a Lightning Bolt of Realization or some such? idk what’s going on, but I bet you it’s related to Tomura waking up again

OH SHIT??

LOL WHAT. THAT’S IT?? SPIDEY-SENSE?? I mean we all predicted Spidey-Sense being one of his quirks like ages ago, so Well Done, Us, I guess

but also, seriously?? all of that drama and intrigue about the fourth user’s quirk and this is what we end up with? what was All Might being so cagey about then? how did this dude die? I need answers goddammit. new, better answers lol

maybe it’s something to do with the fact that Deku keeps talking about how his head hurts?

I mean, for Deku of all people to be all “ouch that hurts”, it must really fucking hurt, you know? like oh my god Deku are you dying

lmao and SPEAKING OF PEOPLE WHO APPARENTLY DON’T FEEL PAIN

this man is out here FROLICKING, half-naked and half-torsoed, AND STILL FEVERISHLY RATTLING OFF HIS MONOLGOUE. YOU HAVEN’T EVEN ESCAPED YET YOU DINGUS. did watching Dabi pour bleach over his head inspire you to think of interesting new ways you could abuse your own body for the sake of Theatrics?? why are villains Like This

anyway so now Mirio’s punching him, because what else are you even supposed to do in this situation

I read this speech bubble three times in a row very carefully this time around just to make sure I was reading the words right. and then looked for a T/L note below. and there was none. whatever RHA, at least you all are out here enjoying yourselves

wait what?

I guess he hasn’t woken up yet after all?? so then wtf is Deku’s Spidey Sense getting all worked up about. I mean to be fair there’s danger all around them still so having a Spidey Sense in this kind of situation is kind of like bringing a smoke alarm to a BBQ

now what

wait did he put them back in the marble?? or is that panel just meant to show us how they were in the marble earlier?? Horikoshi please make this less confusing, I’m already having trouble staying focused as it is. and on top of everything else Compress is cascading blood like Niagara Falls right now and I’m starting to wonder if you really are going to kill him off

anyway so Mirio is still in mid-punch, and now he’s reaching out to punch Spinner with his other hand. heh. Mirio please be careful Tomura is right there, and I swear to god Horikoshi IF HE LAYS A HAND ON HIS SWIRLY BLOND HEAD SO HELP ME I WILL MAIL YOU A VIAL OF MY TEARS

okay seriously what the hell is happening

when you attach?? everyone?? to your body?? whose body?? who is this??

oh wait okay it’s a flashback to Tomura talking about his Hands

lmao this is so disjointed, I can’t tell what’s a flashback and what isn’t and whose thoughts these are lmao I give up. I’m just going to fire up a bunch of question marks until this starts making some goddamn sense. ???????

??????

????????

-- !!!!!!!!!!!

okay hold up. so did Spinner just slap Tomura’s last remaining Signature Fashion Hand onto his face just now for absolutely no reason?? is that what’s going on?? and fuck me but it actually worked too, lmao. is your buddy unconscious and unresponsive to stimuli?? no problem, just slap ‘em in the face with a burnt and shriveled severed hand. works every time

p.s. I SWEAR TO GOD HORIKOSHI. IF YOU TOUCH MIRIO!!! HE’S A GOOD BOY LEAVE HIM ALONE

??????????

OKAY WELL. I STILL HAVE NO IDEA WTF IS HAPPENING, BUT AT LEAST MIRIO’S NOT DEAD. KACCHAN GOT BLOWN AWAY THOUGH SOB. HOW IRONIC THAT THE GOD OF EXPLOSION MURDERS WOULD BE MURDERED BY AN EXPLOSION WHILE I WAS BUSY SAYING “OH MY GOD”

ohhhhhh, okay. so this is AFO’s narration

and that’s a partial answer to the question of “why did AFO bother raising Tomura up as his heir if he was planning on taking over his body the whole time.” apparently it makes it easier to control him. joy :’)

also this image of a potato wearing a Tomura wig is sending me fjkllkhl

oh my god he summoned all the Noumu to him like Aquaman and his sea creatures. this whole situation just keeps on getting better

-- oh hell no. oh fuck me, fucking shit

SHIT SHIT SHIT. I’M SORRY SPINNER, TOMURA CAN’T COME TO THE PHONE RIGHT NOW

oh my god. I fucking hate everything right now oh my god

I GUESS WE FIGURED OUT WHAT DEKU’S SPIDEY SENSE WAS WARNING HIM ABOUT, THEN ಠ_ಠ

fucking great!! so I guess nobody is getting a happy ending today, then. the heroes got their asses handed to them (sorry Compress, it’s a figure of speech, didn’t mean to be disrespectful); Deku and Kacchan died; Shouto’s evil brother came back from the dead to ruin his life; everyone and their dog lost various limbs; and the villains have now lost Twice (dead), Compress and Machia (presumably going to be captured), and now their fearless leader’s body has been completely taken over by AFO, which is such an unsexy development that it managed to completely undo all of the Mr. Compress Sexiness from last week. goddamn it

DAMN IT HORIKOSHI ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO END IT LIKE THIS

up close Hadou’s face is looking pretty rough. :/ that’s going to scar over isn’t it. at least she’ll look like a badass

meanwhile I appreciate that Horikoshi drew what looks to be a little puff of air next to Kacchan’s mouth, just to reassure us all that he’s not actually dead. that’s fine. you just lie there then. also his wound really is in the exact same place as All Might’s and it’s giving me all kinds of feels you guys but whatever I’m not gonna sit here dwelling on it all day

AND POOR SHOUTO. IS HE STILL CRYING OMG. AND ENDEAVOR, WAY TO DO NOTHING STILL. THE ALL TIME CHAMP OF SITTING AROUND AND STARING, GOOD FOR YOU

ARE YOU FOR REAL, ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

(－‸ლ)

lol

“peace out, loser.” “SHUT YOUR TRAP, HO.” quality encounter right here

anyway so he’s blasting Deku with something and Deku’s just flying back all unconscious-like. so then, what even was the point of all that, huh

oh I see, it was to lead us into one last Deku monologue to close this arc out

oh my god Deku if you say you’re going to save him I will turn around and do a cannonball into a ballpit of feels right now, don’t do this to me

OH SNAP I THINK HE’S GONNA THOUGH

DID HE LOOK LIKE HE NEEDED SAVING?? I MUST CONFESS YOU AND I ARE OF A MIND HERE, YOUNG BROCCOLI. YES IN SPITE OF ALL THE MURDERS. WHAT CAN I SAY IT’S COMPLICATED

by the way I just have to point out here, that after all of those impossibly pretty close-ups of Hawks’s unconscious face, Horikoshi really did my child dirty here lmao

he looks like a squished cockroach. THAT’S MY BABY BOY

and it looks like the cavalry is finally on its way too! took them long enough. so I guess they can take care of any of the remaining Noumu stragglers, but first let Deku finish his speech. listen up Deku I really need you to say something cool and iconic to cap off this thus-far admittedly underwhelming Last Chapter Of The Year, here

AHHHHHHH YES HE REALLY DID IT HE SAID THE THING

well he thought the thing, anyway. close enough. I’ll take it!

so this is really the end of the arc then! or at least I hope, good lord. anyways, all right then so let’s do a quick status check:

it looks like the Noumu are hauling Tomura and Spinner away to safety, but it doesn’t look like they managed to save Machia or Compress. this honestly might be in Compress’s best interests though. the heroes can get him some medical help along with Kacchan and Endeavor and everyone else

Dabi is apparently hidden inside Spinner’s scarf, but do they have any way of releasing him without Compress there to undo the quirk? will he be all right in there. like how is he going to get food and water and air and stuff lol. does it wear off after a bit? can Compress undo it when he wakes up, even if he’s in custody? is there a distance limit on it?

and Skeptic was presumably turned into a marble as well, but Compress didn’t bother mentioning him at all. nobody cares about poor Skeptic lol

and bonus AFO theories status check:

Dad for One - AFO called Deku worthless and hasn’t seemed to take the least bit of interest in him despite getting to see his fancy SIXQUIRKS up close and personal. so if he is his dad he sure as heck is a terrible one, that’s all I can say

All for One for All/Deku is a horcrux - well the Spidey Sense seems to offer an alternative explanation to why Deku could sense AFO’s presence, but on the other hand it doesn’t explain why AFO was able to sense Deku’s as well (seeing his dreams and such). still thinking there’s a connection there, guys, idk

AFO is the final villain - five words for you: “EVERYTHING IS FOR MY SAKE.” is that concrete enough yet lol. pretty sure this arc marked both the beginning and end of Tomura’s brief stint as the Big Bad. Deku’s got it in his mind to save him now somehow, and we all know what happens when Deku starts getting determined to save people. look out AFO

as for the heroes, they’re all varying degrees of Fucked and I think it’s honestly too much to even take stock of at this point. maybe if I get a rush of hyperfixation in the next couple days or so I’ll do a separate post analyzing the impact of this arc and where things currently stand and where they might be headed from here

but in the meantime, ngl, this chapter was kind of a hot mess lmao. but whatever, I don’t even care because at least he managed to get all of it done within the allotted 17 pages, meaning that next week (or rather two weeks from now, sob) we really can get moving onto the aforementioned Triage arc! BRING ON THAT ANGST. I am so fucking hyped goddammit

#bnha 295 #all for one #midoriya izuku #shigaraki tomura #mr. compress #spinner (bnha)#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #idk why but this chapter was so exhausting to get through lol #I've enjoyed this arc so much but I guess at the end the fatigue just hit me all at once #almost 40 chapters we've been doing this #that's one chapter for every year iida has been alive #still it sure was epic though #now bring on that angsty aftermath

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five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Adoption (part 2)

A gift for @a-flower-lover! This wound up being more along the lines of vignettes... Little snapshots into Danny’s life after being adopted by Clockwork. I hope that’s ok! (PART 1)

Mr. Lancer had met Charles Worth before, albeit briefly. The man had fostered a number of Casper High students and with that responsibility came parent-teacher conferences. He had struck Mr. Lancer as being steady and reliable, if, perhaps, impersonal, despite his predilection for clocks and ominous announcements. A decent foster parent, if not... ideal.

Mr. Worth just didn't seem to connect with his fosters, although he certainly didn't neglect them. Then, too, were the persistent rumors that his home was haunted.

Alright. So, Mr. Lancer didn't think Charles Worth was really a children person. Oh, he was a good person! It took one to do well as a foster parent, but... yeah.

Which was why the scene in front of him surprised him so much. Not the who of it, but the what.

The who was Daniel Fenton and Charles Worth waiting outside the office. The what was smiling and having a conversation. True, Mr. Fenton's smile looked like it was pasted on over several layers of anxiety, but it was genuine.

"Mr. Worth, Mr. Fenton?" he said, tamping down his surprise. "Come on in."

"Hi," said Mr. Fenton, his voice hoarse.

Mr. Worth smiled and nodded, pushing him up with his cane.

But Mr. Fenton must have noticed the curious look Mr. Lancer was giving him. "I knew Cl- Uh. Mr. Worth before this." He winced and smiled widely to cover it up. "So, uh, make up work? Since I missed the past week?"

"Yes, well, circumstances being what they are," aka his parents trying to murder him in public, in broad daylight (and didn't that give Mr. Lancer a chill?), "your teachers have put together a few packets for you to look over this weekend. They should get you more or less up to speed with where your classes are. I'm also willing to stay after school, to help you with anything you've missed in my classes."

Jazz knocked on the door of the Worth house. She had been made aware, via various supernatural (she did not particularly appreciate writing suddenly appearing on her fogged-up bathroom mirror) and mundane (Danny did have her phone number) means, that the man known as Charles Worth was actually the ghost known as Clockwork.

How this had occurred was not entirely clear to her. She assumed ghost powers, specifically time travel, were involved somehow.

But, to be honest, that didn't really matter to her. It was secondary, less than.

What was important here was that she hadn't been legally allowed to see her little brother in over a month. To keep her parents from contacting him. To keep her from letting her parents near him. Because they were legally barred from seeing him.

Because they had tried to kill him.

Jazz planned on never seeing her parents again, as soon as she got all of her and Danny's things from their house.

But now that prohibition had been lifted, because Clockwork had forced through what had to be the speediest adoption in the history of adoptions, and Danny was now legally his son. In the eyes of both humans and ghosts. Which was... Well. Danny seemed to be excited about it, anyway. He'd looked up to Clockwork for a while, from what he told Jazz.

Internally, Jazz had more than a bit of trepidation. She didn't know what adoption meant to ghosts, didn't have any context for it. And ghosts, even the good ones, even Danny, tended to be... obsessive. Extreme. She wasn't sure how that would translate when it came to interpersonal relationships.

The door creaked open, ever so slowly, the squeak it made grating on her eardrums. At first, it appeared to have opened on its own, then a hand gripped the edge of the door, and Clockwork, in human guise, leaned out from behind it.

Jazz raised an eyebrow.

Clockwork raised one right back. "This house is haunted, you know," he said.

Okay, never mind. The only thing she had to worry about was the fact that her brother and his mentor both had terrible senses of humor.

"Hi, Jazz!"

Being used to having a half-ghost brother, Jazz only yelped a little bit at his unexpected appearance behind her. Then she sighed and ruffled his hair. He hugged her and then bounced over the lintel into the house.

"Come on! I want to show you my room! It's so cool!" His voice became fainter as he went farther into the house, until his last exclamation was an eerie whisper.

Jazz looked at Clockwork as she stepped inside. "Is he doing that on purpose?"

Clockwork smiled blandly. "I am very fond of the acoustics in this house."

She looked at her surroundings with a skeptical eye. "It seems... dark in here."

"We are ghosts," said Clockwork. "Daniel is very excited to show you his room, by the way."

"He's human, too, don't forget," said Jazz.

"I won't."

The house was creepy.

Really creepy.

This was coming from someone who had spent most of her life living under the same roof as two ghost-obsessed mad scientists.

But Danny seemed to enjoy it, and he was the one living here. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with the house. Or anything in the house. It was just... off.

Danny was half-ghost, however, so maybe this was something he needed. Perhaps not all of his peppiness could be attributed to being the heck away from his murderous former parents.

Even so. Jazz had a duty, both as a big sister and an aspiring psychologist.

"I already read it," said Clockwork, setting a cup of tea down in front of her.

"What?"

"The book you were about to give me. I've already read it. And a number of others. I am not the kind of person who goes into things unprepared."

Danny rolled into the kitchen on the ceiling. This was easy to ignore. After her life, an Exorcist reference made by her over-excited younger brother, was, well. Underwhelming.

(Okay, she was a little distracted, but only by his glee.)

"Well," she said. "That's good."

"I know this house is out of the way," said Clockwork, craning his neck to look up at his coworker, "but you are rather conspicuous."

"Hm. Am I?" asked Pandora, craning her neck down to look at her comparatively tiny colleague.

"Yes. At that size, humans with average eyesight will be able to see you from town."

Pandora looked out over the trees. "Interesting," she said, mildly. "Do you think the ghost hunters will come?"

"You've spoken to Daniel."

"Yes. He stopped by earlier today, on his way to visit Mattingly. Although, I suppose you knew that already."

"Indeed I did. May I ask, is it your intention to lure the ghost hunters here, fight them, defeat them, and then leave them just close enough to here to constitute a breach of their terms of bail and the restraining order against them?"

"I am not terribly well-versed in human law," said Pandora, "but, why, yes. That is exactly what I'm doing. Best to get it done while Daniel is visiting friends, isn't it?"

"Yes. If you had done this while he was here, I would be significantly more annoyed." Clockwork smiled the sanguine smile of a parental figure who would commit murder if their child was upset.

Pandora returned a matching grin, one that promised retribution against persons who had harmed said child in the past. "Please, Clockwork. You know me better than that. I wouldn't subject him to being in the presence of those fools."

"Good," said Clockwork, eyes glinting.

"Hey, Clockwork? Do you know why there were police cars driving down the- Oh. Hello?" He stopped at the sight of an unfamiliar woman sitting at the dinning room table, next to Clockwork. He blinked and tilted his head to the side. "Wait. Pandora?"

"Perceptive," said the superficially human olive-skinned woman. "You seemed so happy when you stopped by, earlier. I thought I would come check in on you."

"You didn't have to," said Danny, beaming.

"Pandora has been trying to convince me to set her up as one of my relatives," said Clockwork, rolling his eyes. "Would you care for a cup of tea, Daniel?"

"Umm," said Danny, dubiously. "I'll try one, I guess. Does that mean you'll be my aunt?"

Pandora smiled. "Why, yes, it does."

Clockwork groaned theatrically.

"Ah," said Mr. Lancer, at the next parent-teacher conference. "Are you Mr. Worth's wife?"

"No," said Pandora, grinning. "I'm his sister."

Mr. Lancer looked back and forth between the two very different-looking entities. "I... see."

"We're adopted," said Clockwork.

"Oh! Alright then. Now, about Daniel..."

It was a bit strange to see Danny with so much energy, Sam reflected. Strange, but good.

It just went to show how drained he had become over time, how much the constant ghost attacks and worry, all the lies and stress and impossible expectations had worn away at him over time. She hadn't seen her friend this happy since freshman year. If that.

On the other hand...

"Dude," said Tucker. "Your house is spooky. And this is coming from someone who's been inside a literal mad science lab."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Mad science labs are campy, not spooky. Besides, you knew coming in that this house was haunted." He draped himself over the back of the couch, rolling until he was 'sitting' upside-down. "Anyway, what kind of movie do you want to watch? We've got a bunch, because Clockwork apparently collects media from doomed timelines."

"He's got a hobby?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, three," said Danny. "Gardening- you should talk to him about that, by the way, I think he'd like it- baking, and alternate timeline movies. And some books, too, I think. He's got a huge library back in Long Now. I've read like. Two books from it."

Clockwork's voice floated in from the other room. "You've read significantly more than that, Daniel."

"I guess," said Danny, doubtfully. He flopped off the couch, picked himself up, and started prodding at a shelf of movies. "This is from a timeline where the Earth got beaned by a massive asteroid. It's, like, a romcom, but it was made when everyone knew the asteroid was coming. This one is, uh, this is actually a dramatization of real events, apparently, but their timeline split from ours in like the fifties, so the events are pretty wild." He waved the DVD at them. "It's surreal?"

"How'd they die?" asked Tucker.

"Wacky superscience. No, really. Irradiated the entire planet."

"How do you know?" asked Sam.

"Oh, Clockwork puts notes on the boxes. He thinks it's interesting. And there does seem to be some correlation between how cursed the movies are and how bad the timeline was. Which maybe shouldn't surprise me? I mean, if they were bad timelines..." He shrugged. "Oh, this is a CGI Lion King. I can tell you: very cursed. Absolutely soulless. And this is from a timeline where copyright laws weren't changed, so Mickey Mouse and a bunch of other stuff was in the public domain."

"Isn't that a good timeline?" joked Sam.

"You'd think so," agreed Danny. "But apartheid in South Africa apparently never stopped, and they got a nuclear bomb, and, well... World War Three."

"Is that like, a domino effect, or...?"

"I'm not sure... Anyway. Uh. Genre?" He clapped his hands together.

Tucker leaned forward. "I want the wildest version of the Matrix you have."

"Ooh, good choice. There are, like, six with Will Smith. I haven't watched them all yet, but I think the one where they've got another sequel and Zion is also a- Wait, I shouldn't spoil it."

"After that, can you see if there's a non-crappy version of Dracula?" asked Sam.

"Sure. I haven't seen one yet, but I will look."

"I have popcorn," said Clockwork, entering the room, "and various baked goods. No dairy."

"You're the best."

Clockwork selected a thick blanket from the chest, then teleported himself to the living room to drape it over the three teenagers passed out on the couch. Overall, he found pretending to be human oddly enjoyable, but it could be trying at times. Tedious. All the finicky little motions humans had to go through to do the simplest of things added up over the day.

So, Clockwork tended to ease off of them when no one was watching. It made life easier.

Heh. Life.

(He would say that Daniel's puns were rubbing off on him, but in truth Clockwork's sense of humor had been like that for, well. Eons.)

He put the kitchen in order with an absent wave of his hand, and double-checked the stove out of habit. It wasn't nearly as good as his actual oven, back in Long Now, but it was serviceable.

One of Daniel's friends mumbled in their sleep, and Clockwork looked in on them. Still peaceful. It was good for Daniel to have them here. Beneficial for both his human and ghost halves.

He hummed to himself and patted Daniel's head as he thought about their plans for the weekend. He had arranged for some truly aggravating evangelical missionaries to darken their doorstep. It would do Daniel good to inspire a touch of terror. In an entirely controlled and risk-free way, of course. No matter how unpleasant the people coming were, Clockwork had no intention of harming them, or suggesting anything of the sort.

But, well. They were ghosts. Being feared was soothing.

(Clockwork knew this wasn't what Jasmine meant when she suggested Clockwork engage in family bonding activities with Daniel. But what she didn't know...)

"I think my teeth are getting sharper," said Danny, pulling a face at the mirror. "Is that normal?" The last was shouted, to get Clockwork's attention. Intellectually, Danny knew he didn't need to do that, but a lifetime of habit was hard to shake.

"It is difficult to say what is normal for someone like you, but many ghosts do have fangs," said Clockwork. "Including myself."

"Hm," said Danny. "This isn't, like, a ghost puberty thing, is it? Because I already used up most of my evil puberty jokes."

"Oh, only most?" Clockwork slid behind him and started rubbing the tension out of his shoulders.

Danny shrugged. "Eh, give or take. But, seriously."

"No, it isn't a ghost puberty thing."

"Oh, good. Because dealing with one puberty is more than enough."

Clockwork was silent. Danny looked up and met troubled eyes in the mirror.

"Clockwork?"

"Daniel," started Clockwork, before giving Danny an uneasy smile. "Speaking of puberty..."

Danny blanched. "No."

"What?"

"No. Nope. Not doing the talk today, no sir. I got that at school."

"Daniel, as strange as Casper High may be at times, I highly doubt they taught you anything about immortality."

"What."

"It's why ghosts put so much forethought into relationships like this," explained Clockwork, careful not to look directly at Daniel's hiding place. "They might last forever. I certainly hope this one does."

"But I don't want to be a teenager forever!" wailed Danny. He had mastered the art of making his voice sound like it was coming from a completely different direction than it actually was.

Clockwork was older than human civilization and had been worshiped as a god by several civilizations. He did not wince at the heartbreak in his child's voice.

"Your shapeshifting abilities should come in after a few years," said Clockwork. "You'll be able to pass as older."

Daniel answered with a moan.

"I must confess, I'm not sure why you are so upset about this. I can see that you are, but could you explain why for me?"

"I don't knoooooowww..."

"I don't want everyone to die and leave me alone," admitted Danny, hunched over a carton of ice cream. "I don't want to see my- my people die." He sniffled.

"We don't have to stay in Amity Park if you don't want to," said Clockwork.

Danny shook his head. "No! That's worse," he said, hating how his voice tilted into a whine. "That's- I can't abandon them! I can't- can't miss their time. I just..." He let out a huff of air. "It's hard."

Clockwork wrapped an arm around Daniel's shoulders. "It may not help much," he said, "but people in Amity Park have a much higher chance of becoming ghosts. It's the ectoplasm in the air."

"Promise?" asked Danny.

"Promise. Although, who, exactly, becomes a ghost is outside of my control. All I can tell you is that the people here have a better chance."

Danny leaned against Clockwork. "Thanks," he mumbled. "Clockwork?"

"Yes?"

"You don't think I'm a freak, do you?"

"Of course not."

Mr. Lancer squinted down at Daniel Fenton's latest assignment with a mix of appreciation, disbelief, and shame. This was easily the best work he had ever received from Daniel. In fact, it rivaled papers he had received from Jasmine.

It made him wonder- How long had Daniel been suffering? What had Daniel been suffering? He was no expert when it came to abuse, but all teachers had some training, and he knew that abusers tended to escalate, starting with something relatively innocuous and ending with a travesty. For things to progress to attempted murder... What had it started as? When had it begun?

(Could Mr. Lancer have stopped it?)

(That question would haunt him more than any ghost.)

Well, there was a silver lining to this, Mr. Lancer supposed. He had rarely seen two people who got along as well as Daniel and Charles Worth. It was good, he thought, for the man to have someone in his life on a more permanent basis, rather than the revolving door of temporary foster children.

How rapidly the adoption went through was a little odd, but... Mr. Lancer shrugged. Undoubtedly, Mr. Worth had taken the time over his years as a foster parent to familiarize himself with the system, and with Daniel's former parents unfit to be anywhere near children...

He shrugged again and stamped Daniel's paper with an A+.

#danny phantom #gift #prize #winner #fic #phanfiction

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hobeemin · 3 years

Text

dangerous pairing ~ (pt. v)

🌙 genre: supernatural, fantasy, drama, angst, e2l, soulmates, forbidden romance, hybrid au

🌙 pairing(s): werewolf!kim namjoon x (f)vampire!oc; vampire!min yoongi x werewolf!jung hoseok (sope 💗)

🌙 summary: they were never meant to be together somehow, their lives intertwined, setting in motion a chain of events that would forever change the course of their lives and the people connected to them.

🌙 rating: 18+

🌙 warning(s): swearing, severe injuries, graphic violence, blood, mentions of vomit

🌙 word count: 2.5k

🌙 inspiration: MB & Playlist

🌙 credit: many thanks to @jeonggukingdom for the banner 💜💜 and a huge shoutout to @sugasbabiie thank you for reading over this for me! i really appreciate it!! 💜💜

*-*

🌙 < 🌙 m.list 🌙 > 🌙

Eva tried to hide her disappointment when she awoke the following day. Ken was still sound asleep next to her. She sighed softly, turning away from him to look at the window. Somehow, he managed to pull her against him in the middle of the night, becoming the big spoon.

She had never been a fan of cuddling in any way, shape, or form. But she let it slide only to further her agenda. She needed Ken to be blissfully happy if she planned to succeed. And if that meant she would be a small spoon a few nights a week, then so be it.

Still, her mind wandered back to the previous night. At one point, she felt a sort of pull. It was a fleeting thought, but enough to make her take a pause. She almost sent Ken home for it. It could have been her mind playing tricks on her, but it felt as if Namjoon was in the room with her. Something about the energy felt different.

She scoffed to herself. That was ridiculous. Last night–while a bit underwhelming–was undoubtedly the boost she needed to get on with her life. Ken was a subpar lover, but he was better than nothing.

You know who you want

She frowned, shooing the thoughts away. That wasn’t going to happen. A chapter in her book closed for good. It was better this way. She didn’t want to lay eyes on him ever again.

Funny how life throws things at unsuspecting folks.

---

It was much too early for Namjoon to function. He never was an early riser. However, today was to be an exception. He agreed to meet for breakfast to discuss the details of the charity ball—something he would have rather avoided and gone back to sleep. But Hoseok was adamant about the meeting. And to get him off his back, he relented just this once.

Still, Namjoon couldn’t help but be slightly annoyed sitting under the veranda of the quaint brunch spot waiting for his guest. For one thing, she was late, and above all things, Namjoon hated tardiness. His brow raised as he glanced at his wristwatch in annoyance. There were much better things he could have been doing. A young server walked up to him with a soft smile.

“Welcome, sir. Will someone be joining you?”

Namjoon began to stand, buttoning his blazer back up as his jaw clenched. “I was leaving. It seems like I am being stood up.”

“Namjoon!”

A melodic voice carried into the café as both Namjoon and the server turned in the direction they heard his name. Namjoon was rarely rendered speechless, but at the sight of Ahn Hyejin made something stop within him. She practically skipped over in the stiletto pumps she wore. Wearing a simple nude midi dress with a coverup made her bronzed skin glow. Her dark hair was pulled off her face and tied back elegantly.

Once she reached him–and even the heels did little to make her taller– she stood on her tiptoes and kissed both his cheeks.

“Forgive me for being late.”

Namjoon cleared his throat, giving the nod to the server. “Seems we’ll be eating here after all.”

He pulled out Hyejin’s chair, allowing her to sit before taking his own. He gestured to the server. “Anything to drink for you?”

“A mimosa, please,” she said, settling back into her chair.

“Bloody Mary for me. Extra spicy,” he said.

The server nodded, exiting to get their drinks. Namjoon messed with the cloth napkin before speaking up.

“You’re lucky you came when you did. I was about to leave,” his eyes bore into hers as a flash of gold appeared. “My time is quite precious. So I expect you to follow suit and be on time.”

Hyejin flipped her hair over her shoulder, giving him a smirk. “At the time, it seemed like the best idea. Letting the Alpha wait for me and pine a bit sounds enticing. Don’t you think?”

A soft growl rumbled in his throat as he glared. “Hyejin, you’re playing a dangerous game. Watch yourself. Things can go great or wrong in the blink of an eye.”

“I go by Hwasa now,” she corrected, removing the imaginary lint from her dress. “It’s simple, Namjoon. You need me to make a point to the other packs. That’s understandable. However–”

The server returned with their drinks, halting the conversation. Hwasa took a sip from the champagne flute, eyeing Namjoon from across the table. Yes, he would be excellent. Hwasa knew if she were patient, she’d be able to find someone like him.

“Have you both decided on what you’d like to order?”

Hwasa looked up, handing the menu to the server. “The salmon eggs benedict, please.”

Namjoon flipped through the menu with a huff. “The steak and egg hash. Eggs sunny side up, steak rare.”

The server retrieved their menus and walked away with a nod. Hwasa turned her attention to Namjoon with a smirk. “I’ll be wearing black. I think it’s appropriate for us to wear your pack’s colors. Don’t you think?”

Namjoon sipped his Bloody mary and gave the tiniest nod of acknowledgment. “Fair. I’ll make all the other necessary arrangements. Transportation and the rest.”

“Good.”

As their dishes were set on the table, silence fell between them as they ate. Namjoon paid her no mind in his thoughts as he ate. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to the previous night. Whatever that feeling was, he didn’t want to feel it ever again. His wolf was out of his control. Never had he lost his sense of being during a change.

As a pureblood and Alpha, he had complete control over his changes. For Namjoon to lose that part of himself raised concern. But who could he talk to? It was only him and his pack.

Brunch ended with the pair in agreement. They would stay in contact to go over the more minor details, but overall it was a successful meeting. Namjoon, being the gentleman he was, walked Hwasa to her car outside the restaurant.

He opened her door for her to slide in but, she pushed him against the door closing it. Namjoon raised an eyebrow as she ran her fingers against the lapel of his blazer.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“You know what I’m doing,” she answered coyly.

His jaw clenched, watching her movements. “You play a dangerous game, Hwasa. This arrangement is merely for the press.”

“I’m aware, but it doesn’t have to be stale while we play,” she cooed.

His hands enclosed around her wrists, bringing them down. “No,” he replied, “Not interested.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest once she yanked him out of his grasp. “When did that stick up your ass appear? A hundred years ago, we would have fucked in the car.”

“Maybe,” he said while reopening the car door up for her. “People grow up. Advice you should take.”

She hissed, getting into her car with a huff. “You’ve lost your edge.”

“And you’re trying my patience. We will talk later about the ball. Drive safe, Hwasa,” he said, closing her door with a slight wave.

As she sped off around the corner, Namjoon sighed heavily, shoulder drooping. He needed to focus. So much pressure was on for him to do well. His pack was counting on him to succeed. He groaned softly, rubbing his temples. He needed help.

---

Tae paced across the room, occasionally staring at the clock on the wall. Jungkook was no better. He sat on the couch, knees shaking, trying not to bite his fingernails. He sighed, trying to remain calm.

“Tae, you’re putting me on edge. Sit the fuck down.”

The older male rolled his eyes, grumbled, but took a seat in one of the chairs across from Jungkook.

“I can’t help it. I’m getting worried. They should have been here by now.”

Jungkook glanced down at his wristwatch. “Could be traffic.”

Tae snorted in disbelief. “Traffic my ass. Something doesn’t feel right, especially since Hobi has disappeared again.”

Jungkook closed eyes as Tae continued to fuss getting up once more to pace the room. He wasn’t as vocal as his packmate, but he was worried about Hoseok. Too much was happening for him to be leaving whenever he pleased. Even if he was second in command, he still needed to respect the rest of the pack. The younger male didn’t want to say it out loud, but he was concerned for his Alpha. Namjoon hadn’t been quite right since that night he returned home injured. Hoseok still hadn’t revealed much of what happened, but maybe the confusion would be cleared soon enough.

“Tae–”

A knock at the door made both males become alert. Tae stopped pacing and ran to the door with Jungkook not far behind. He opened the door to reveal four young men standing in the doorway. One stepped forward with short dark hair and pulled Tae into an embrace.

Taehyung choked back a sob wrapping his arms around him. “Brother.”

He stepped back, holding him at arm’s length, looking over his face. “You’ve gotten taller, Soobin.”

The young man smirked, visibly getting flustered. Jungkook looked around curiously, brow raised. “Not to interrupt this moment, but where is Yeonjun?”

The room darkened instantly. The four men looked nervous about speaking until the youngest and tallest stepped forward.

“He’s been missing for two weeks now.”

---

Seulgi whistled low as she sharpened one of the many knives laid down in front of her. She stilled her movements as Jackson opened the door and walked in, wiping his hands with a towel. She glanced up at him before going back to her task.

“Got blood on your cheek.”

He swore, running to a sink to wash his face. “Fucking canine,” he mumbled, taking a seat across from her.

“Has he been forthcoming with any information?”

“Oh, he’s talking alright, but nothing worth investigating,” he explained.

Seulgi frowned, setting one of the bowie knives down. “What are you trying to fish for, Jackson?”

Jackson tapped his fingers on the table. “I want the Alpha.”

Seulgi snorted. “He’ll die before he gives that up.”

“Try me.”

“You wanna bet?”

Jackson chuckled, shaking his head. “If he isn’t going to tell me, he sure as hell isn’t going to tell you.”

Seulgi stood up and began walking towards the back room. “Oh, ye of little faith.”

She stepped into the room. Yeonjun was hunched over on the ground, his ankle chained to the wall. He winced as the light washed over him, cowering in fear. Seulgi sniffed, making a gagging noise.

“The smell in here is atrocious.”

She sneered, walking up to him then uses the front of her foot to nudge him.

“Things aren’t looking up for you, pup. Jackson informed me you’re not being forthcoming with any information.” She tsked, shaking her head.

“Not good at all. This means you’re of no use to me anymore.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Yeonjun saw her pull a gun from behind her back. He jumped back, trying to crawl away.

“N-No p-please. I’ll do anything!”

She tapped the barrel of the gun on her temple. “Why should I believe you? You’ve given us nothing. You’re wasting my time. Wasting my time makes me irritated. When I get irritated, I get trigger happy.”

Yeonjun tried to reach out to grab onto the hem of her jeans, and she reeled back and kicked him in his stomach. The sheer force of the kick made Yeonjun crumple under the weight. Whatever contents remained in his stomach, spilled out on the concrete. Seulgi jumped back in disgust.

“Fucking dog!”

She reeled back to kick him again, and Yeonjun cried out, holding his hands up. “No! I’ll tell you what you want!”

She paused, placing her foot down. “You’ll give me the Alpha?”

Yeonjun shook his head. “No, but I can give you the person who can.”

---

Hoseok looked outside the window, watching the sun start to set. The view calmed him down as he mulled over what was troubling him—too many things on his mind. He was on edge after receiving a message from Namjoon. Though his brunch with Hwasa had gone as well as it could, his friend was still struggling. He sighed, and he dropped his head down. Hoseok was never one to be so glum. If anything, he was the one who motivated the pack. It wasn’t until he felt arms wrap around his waist that the tension released from his body. Yoongi planted a soft kiss on his neck and nuzzled against his back.

“Come to bed.”

“Soon.”

Yoongi looked up with a frown. “Still stressing out?”

“Uh-huh.”

The vampire sighed. He didn’t like seeing Hoseok so wound up. When Hoseok messaged to meet up tonight, he thought it would just be a relaxing evening of them together. The wolf had other plans. He seemed on edge all evening, and in turn, it made Yoongi stress out as well. At least Eva was preoccupied and not worried about where he had gone off to. Still. He was just as concerned about her as Hoseok was for Namjoon.

“Hobi, what’s on your mind? Maybe talking it out will help. Is it about Namjoon?”

“Yeah,” he finally answered.

Yoongi pressed his forehead to his back, sighing once more. “Does it have to do with Eva?”

Hoseok pulled away, brushing his hands through his hair. “That’s what's frustrating. I don’t know.”

He walked over to the bed and sank down, defeat on his face. “He needs help.”

Barking out a laugh, he glanced at Yoongi. “Can’t believe I’m asking this”–he really was– “do you know of anyone who practices magic?”

Yoongi raised his brow as he took a seat next to Hoseok. “A witch?”

“Sure. Let’s call it that,” Hoseok answered in disbelief.

Yoongi snorted. “You’re skeptical about witches, but a werewolf and vampire make sense.”

Hoseok cracked a smile for the first time that day. “Well now that you mention it, it sounds silly out loud.”

“Exactly,” Yoongi answered as he scooted closer to his lover. He reached around and began rubbing Hoseok’s shoulders. “I...I know of someone who could possibly help you, but they would be doing me a huge favor.”

Hoseok opened his eyes, turning to look at him. “You would do that for me?”

Yoongi’s eyes softened. “Of course, babe. You mean a lot to me. I’d do anything for you, and I hope you’d do the same.”

Hoseok pulled Yoongi into an embrace and kissed his cheek. “You know how I feel bout you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi grinned with a nod. “Yeah, I know. I’ll reach out to my friend”–as he pushed Hoseok down on the bed–” until then, I need you to relax and enjoy our time together.”

Hoseok smiled, stroking Yoongi’s back as he got comfortable on the bed. “Only cause you insist.”

Yoongi cuddled against him, finally content that they could relish their alone time. No more thoughts of their pack or coven until the next day.

*-*

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 125

I am so sorry that this is posting late today!! I didn’t realize my queue ran out, or that I didn’t load these in there.

Thank you, every day, to everyone who helped me hang in there as long as I’ve been lucky enough to write this story. As much fun as the weapons expo was, I swear we are working towards everything else that has changed in the time skip! I would love to hear what y’all are most excited to find out about.

Shoutouts always go to @baelpenrose, @charlylimph-blog, and @the-raven-fae for all your encouragement, plot bunnies, and beta-reading.

The day after the weapons exhibition, the air on the Ark was still crackling with excitement. Every time I overheard people chattering over a specific performance, I smiled to myself. That particular event had been the first that Parvati and Hannah planned without my help, and hearing the overwhelming approval for it was something I would be all too happy to convey back to them. They really had done a great job.

Sebastian ended up bowing out after the first year, because he was unable to balance the demands of the mentorship and the Undine. As the only one of the three who could not just change their job responsibilities, he had chosen his passion - which absolutely no one was upset about. Parvati had even joked that we had backup Councillors, but only one Undine.

The response I received from my mentees when I shared what I heard, however, was underwhelming. Hannah gave a small smile and nodded, while Parvati waved off the praise with a scoff. “We were essentially following a template,” she pointed out.

Hannah nodded at me with a rueful expression. “Unfortunately, she’s right. There wasn’t much of a challenge, there.”

Just as a full pout was settling into my chest, Alistair breezed in and took off his scarf - for once, I couldn’t tell myself it was just for dramatic effect, as the climate controls in public areas were phased in to mimic what was projected for seasonal changes on Von. Currently it was the cold season, and Alistair was miserable about it. “Of course it wasn’t a challenge,” he scowled. “You both have been assisting Madam Reid since the exhibitions began. However, it is profoundly rude to ignore the feedback you received.” He glared at Parvati and Hannah, who managed to look sheepish. “One of you will be Councillor one day, and your responsibility will be things just like this. You should be pleased with a job well done, not resting on your laurels.”

I nodded and didn’t bother hiding my grin. “He’s right, you know. Besides, don’t forget that this is when the hard part starts.”

Two sets of eyes widened at me, with Hannah adding a gasp of horror. “Oh gods. The feedback…”

“Yep.” I popped the last letter as I took my seat and the coffee that Alistair offered, noticing that he did not retrieve any for my mentees. Apparently he was really miffed by their attitudes before. “And, along with coordinating the event on your own…”

“Sophia, you’re joking,” Parvati glared.

“I am most certainly not,” I shook my head. “Every event, you have to read the feedback. You can filter it all you want, narrow down the categories, whatever. But I strongly recommend that you read all of the negative feedback if nothing else.”

“But you’ve always had help,” Hannah pointed out calmly.

“I did,” I admitted, “but that doesn’t mean I ignored or delegated the important parts. Having people who you trust to do a pulse check of what is being said unofficially is an extremely valuable tool. However, at the end of the day, the performance of the events, or the projects, or the staffing balances, comes right back to this office and only this office. I can listen to Tyche, or my partners, or other Councillors until my ears fall off. But if something went wrong, or could have been done better, I’m the one who catches fault for that. Which means, eventually, it will be one of you.”

With a deep breath, both women nodded and opened the files in question. After simply staring and scrolling for a few minutes, Parvati sat back and tapped the side of her chin. “Can we filter out all comments under five words and comments with only positive adjectives that do not contain a conditional statement?” She glanced at me and I nodded my approval.

That seemed to spark an idea in Hannah. “Prioritize comments including the words ‘dangerous’, ‘barbaric’, or synonyms of.” When her co-mentee gave her a quizzical look, she shrugged. “It’s good to have at least a count of people who object to the weapons exhibitions, and if they are just a small number at least there are guaranteed to be a few in there that are pretty funny.”

Parvati still looked like she wasn’t convinced, so Alistair spoke up. “If you do not enjoy the weapons exhibitions, why are you attending?”

“Ahhh,” she smiled. Clearly the thought had never occurred to her, which was entirely unsurprising. Parvati hadn’t dated Xiomara as long as she did by harboring a secret grudge against self-defense and proper applications of force.

Now that they found a starting point for weeding through the feedback, it was clear they were engrossed in gathering information. Periodically, I would hear one make a considering noise before jotting down a note to come back to later. I quietly moved to my desk and observed how differently they handled the process - When I went through feedback with Alistair, we shared it on the table emitter so both could see. Parvati and Hannah, however, sat across from each other, on their singular data pads, flicking particular pieces of information back and forth to each other without even glancing up. The partnership they had developed over the last four years of working with me was astounding to watch.

“What you are feeling now is exactly what it feels like to watch you and Tyche,” Alistair murmured, startling me out of my reverie. When I glanced at him, he simply lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head. “Even after working with you both for so long, there are moments where it is clear you both are working on some sort of wavelength the rest of us are not aware of.”

“Charly is pretty tuned in to it. And Arthur, when he wants to be.”

“Miss Harper is a force unto herself.” The corner of his mouth lifted in one of his rare, fond smiles. “As for Farro, I am beginning to believe that Reidish is one of the languages he learned for historical manuscripts.” Snark dripped from his tone out of old habit - if there had ever been any animosity between the two, it was long gone.

Although, apparently the hypothetical existence of ‘Reidish’ as a language was still bopping it’s merry way around the Ark.

“Noah,” I pointed out. “They understand us perfectly well.”

“Yes, let us all congratulate you two, not only on the fact that a mind-reading alien understands your communication better than your own species, but also on the fact that you have tainted them with your mannerisms.” The sarcasm would have stung, had he not felt the need to demonstrate by tipping his index finger and thumb over his eye in imitation of an eyebrow with one hand, while making a sock-puppet nod with the other - both of which were gestures Noah used as filler for human body language. The contrast between his words, the gestures, and the absolute deadpan expression on his face sent me into hysterics.

I didn’t realize we were being watched until Hannah’s voice broke through my laughter. “Derek actually taught them the eyebrow one. That wasn’t Sophia or Tyche. He started doing it because he can’t just lift one eyebrow, and Miys started mimicking him when they saw how useful it was to convey tone.” When Alistair only stared at her in disbelief, she huffed and turned to her datapad before flicking a recording to the table emitter.

Sure enough, there was Derek, adjusting Miys ‘fingers’ and repeating the gesture for them to imitate. After several adjustments of where the vomu was held, Derek seemed satisfied and flashed a double thumbs-up, which was returned in triplicate. As the recording ended, Hannah turned back with the smuggest expression I had ever seen on her gentle face.

“I’ll be damned.” Alistair’s voice was soft with surprise and a hint of admiration.

“Hannah, how do you have that?” I asked, concerned for Derek’s privacy.

She waved me off. “Zach was doing routine security sensor testing, found that in the process, and asked Derek if we could keep a copy of it. Derek said it was okay, and asked for a copy for himself.” She shrugged. “I’d never seen him voluntarily touch someone that much before, and even without that, it was adorable.”

“I’m glad he knows you have it,” I sighed in relief. “But yeah, it makes sense, honestly.” Hannah nodded in agreement, while Parvati and Alistair were clearly waiting for an explanation. I started ticking off reasons on my fingers. “Miys is very careful of personal space because they know how large they are, and Derek hates having his space invaded without permission. Miys is never ‘too loud’ for Derek, or touches without permission, or even speaks to him without Derek speaking first. There’s no pressure for eye contact, even just in Derek’s head, because Miys doesn’t have eyes.”

“Your mind is a strange and wonderful place,” Alistair stated drily before turning to Hannah and Parvati. “I hope you two have been taking notes on it. I happen to know what your next event is, and you’re going to need that level of insight.”

Arching an eyebrow at him, Parvati did not even look away to pull up her calendar, dragging it into her line of sight. Her eyes widened suddenly.

“You have three months,” I pointed out.

She reached out and shook Hannah’s arm vigorously. “Han.”

A quick glance and a second horrified expression looked at me from the table.

“Three months.”

“Sophia.”

“You’ve both helped me with it, for at least the last four years. And you said you wanted a challenge.”

They both groaned comically, but I struggled not to smile at their antics. I knew they weren’t really as worried as they pretended to be.

Alistair leaned over the whisper again. “I thought Tyche was the evil one.”

That did get me to smile.

<< Prev Masterlist Next >>

#the miys #humans are weird #found family #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #survival #apocalypse #aliens #haw #hfy #humans are space fae #science fiction #scifi #original scifi #original writing #my writing

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mega-bastard · 3 years

Text

i was kidnapped by shiratorizawa ?!?!?!?!

this was painful to write, but like a masochist I did it anyway. this is my part of the the first Whorehouse Collab, located here. Finally getting back into writing fanfics since like 2015, this was oddly therapeutic.

I wrote this under the influence of magic grass after binging several wattpad fics, enjoy at your own risk-- by which I mean laugh alongside me LMAO

The ending is sososo rushed, in true wattpad fashion <3 this was 1.3K words of nonsense

When I woke up today, I didn’t think I’d end up in such a bind— bindings to be more specific. I’m just your average little miss no one, another everyday student easily lost in the in the crowd. Wearing glasses and being like super shy does that to u, yknow?

Now, blindfolded and tied up, I can’t help but wonder just how someone so unnoticeable had gotten snatched up so suddenly— perhaps that was had why you were taken (insert Liam neeson voice: I will find you, and I will kill you hehe >:3). Now, with the full throb in my head beginning to subside— I started to recount what had bringed me into such s predicament

~ rewind to earlier in the day ~

I’d only just waked up when I received a text from my best friend mina (bnha wink wonk) gushing about or schools volleyball match— to say she was crazy in love aoba Joshuas volleyball team would be selling it crazily underwhelmed. Especially their captain, oikawa tooru ! Most of our school did, but I was really observant of the people around me— he gives me weird vibes, like he puts on an act or something. But still, I keep that thoght to myself so no one comes for me. Seriously, he’s got fans like a Kpop star (a/n haha stan bts for clear skin uwu)

Either way, her dragging me to a volleyball game is nothing new— and as she’s blowing my messages up like the world is ending I know what to expect this coming afternoon. What a pain, I had planned on watching naruto when I got home today :(

There was no telling Mina no, so when we enviably met to walk to school I was well aware I’d be attending the volleyball match today. Boring, but I’d manage— I don’t care much for sports but sweaty and muscley men are finer than fine, I’d at least have spank bank material hehe (a/n not to whore on main buuuuuut ;3).

The day flew by and suddenly I found my self seated on the stands, waiting for the game to begin. Mina was chatting away, so when the urge to go to the bathroom came I simply got up and left— I wouldn’t get a word in edgewise, everyone always runs at the mouth and I can never get a word in as a result.

Not paying attention on my way to the bathroom, I suddenly shivered— feeling watched. I looked up from staring at the floor and was brought face to face with...the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Team ?!?! At the head was the tank of a captain, japans number one ace Ushijima Wakayoshi (a/n a whole snack yumyum) was indomitable and a scary man to be faced with. Ushijima was still as fierce as ever; I say that because we’d gone to middle school together— we never spoke or anything like that but we’d been in the same classes. He scrutinized my small form with impassive olive eyes, I felt rooted in place at such a state.

I shook myself from my little reverie and quickly scurried off, heart beating a mile a minute. “ just find the bathroom and head back to Mina “ I murmured to myself, finally finding the bathroom after rounding a corner. The feeling of being watched finally lifting.

After using the bathroom and began to head back, I could hear someone...singing something? I began to head towards it out of curiosity, peeking around a corner to see a tall red haired guy and a grey haired guy— they were wearing the same uniform so they must also be a part of the team as well! Lost in my thoughts, I was only briefly able to dick away before the red haired guy turned around to where I was peeking.

Ok seriously, let’s head back ‘ I thought before scurrying back to Mina— who grilled me on my absence before becoming entranced in the starting game. I stayed on my phone for the most part, reading one direction fanfic— with the phone screen down waaay low (a/n who else has done this before ???). Id peek every now and again to watch, at one point catching the eye of the tall red head— a chill ran down my spin at his impish smile that I looked away immediately.

He was...cute. In a scary way.

A sudden hush flew across the crowd and I looked up in time to see oikawas serve hit clean across the net, received by some guy with brown hair before being set by some twat with shitty hair (a/n shirabus a twat, their I said it >:/) before the ball was spiked back with a force unmatched.

That was Match point. Shiratorizawa wins.

The air is oppressive, oikawas fan girls— mina included, are wailing. That’s my cue to exit, bidding a mina goodbye I began my way down the hail, the rush of the court fading into background.

Then suddenly, rushing feet and the crack of something hard against my skull.

Darkness consumed me.

~ back to the present ~

Now back to the hear and now, I hear murmerings-- voices I don’t recognize. I try to listen, try to focus in on their voices but I can’t as the throbbing in my skull takes my focus away. A whimper escapes me, and a silence sweeps across wherever I am like a breeze-- it’s scary.

“haha, is she awake?” it’s the sing=songy voice from before-- the red head probably then? I know I needed to say something, anything, but I was still to disoriented. The sound of shoes nearing me immeadiatly set me off, beginning to wiggle and move before I was held still vision suddenly assaulted with brightness as my blindfold is redmoved.

Standing before, me in all their glory, is the Shiratorizawa volleyball team??

It looks like I’m being held in...an empty dorm room? I’m trying to gather my bearings and cannot figure what to possibly ay before being yanked up harshly from a laying position. It’s the red head holding me up, wicked smile and everything as he crouches in front of me before opening his mouth.

“ You belong to us now, got it~” his voice is too cheery given the words he’s just said to me (a/n tendou owns my heart and soul <3333 ), and only now does my voice find me. “ B-but w-why m-m-me ? You c-can’t j-just do t-that, please just let me g-g-g-g-g-g-go !” by the time I finish blubbering, theres tears streaming down my cheeks like rushing rivers. Through my lashes, I look pitifully around at everyone-- landing on an umcomfortble looking kid with a bowl cut, but he looks away as soon as i stare up at him.

no, no ,no nononono no ones going to help me. the tears fall puddle on the floor, only growing in speed when ushijima speaks. “ You’ll be transfering here, become our manager, and be staying in this dorm room-- it’s already been settled” (a/n idk I’d be p happy to be shiratorizawa’s manager uwu) his voice is deep and leaves no room for any back talk, but my stomach drops at his next sentence “Semi, put it on her’ my head whips up, starring doe eyed at the grey haired guy from before as he approaches with...IS THAT A COLLAR AND LEASH??? (a/n insert debby ryan face)

my face heats up, embarrassed and ashamed at the idea of being collared like an animal. I try to wiggle away, annoying Semi, “Tendou hold her still damnit!” at that Tendou-- the red head, grips my face with one hand to keep me still, gripping it hard enough that hes smushing my cheeks (a/n tendou, t e n d o u, loml, how I cherish thee) . He mutters a quiet cute, so faint I think I’m hearing things, before the tightening of the collar breaks me from that train of thought. With that done, I’m released, falling to my hands and knees staring up at the entire team now gathered before me.

A tug on the leash tugs me forward without much effort, and the tears spring up once more at the humiliation.

“This is gonna be fun~”

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

ok so I hoped you guys loved it <3 I’ll try my best to get out weekly updates, next chap I’m thinking I either focus on how ushijima and reader-chan actually do know eachother, shirabu and semi fiighting of reader-chans attention, or maybe tendou and reader-chan getting into trouble while draggin goshiki into it! SOund off in the comments and let me know what you think ?? anyway love you guys sm <33333

#SHBNIOKSM?S #I feel ill after this #but in the best way <3 #I feel so wrong writing them this way LOL #Is ok #crackfic #kidnapped by haikyuu #miki mouse whorehouse collab #shiratorizawa x reader

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uwuyangin · 4 years

Text

my vows to you (changbin x reader)

✩ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the sound of wedding bells was always reserved for you because changbin would never want to live a world with anyone else. but that didn’t stop him from standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for his new bride to devote his vows to. however, it was in that moment that something sparked within him, letting him know this isn’t right; not when you were watching in the audience with his child.

✩ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 + 𝐚/𝐧: this is a request! thank you for sending it in :) i enjoyed writing it! father!changbin ahead and angst themes. requests are open. (also, song recommendations while reading better off alone by jeremy zucker ft. chelsea cutler & i love you’s by hailee steinfeld)

—

the day was finally here. the day he would be marrying the love of his life.

was it right to call her that? or was it completely ludicrous? changbin wanted so badly to believe he was happy, and that he deserved this. he had taken many wrong turns in his life that he decided he would no longer stray away from his idea of a happily ever after. if that meant marrying her, then so be it.

truth be told, changbin was struggling to cope with the aftermath that was his and your relationship. he wanted to forget every memory, kiss, touch, moment, and anything that reminded him of you. for the past three years, changbin erased the ghost of you. some days were harder than others, but some were okay. and okay was always better than nothing. soon, okay turned to content, and content turned to carefree. there were no longer chains holding him back, but instead a light at the end of the tunnel telling him it was going to be alright. that was all he needed.

the venue was filled with numerous amounts of people from distant relatives to friends and close family. everyone was chatting away about how excited they were for the wedding to begin with his mother in hysterics in the front seat. her baby was finally getting married and she couldn’t be more thrilled. his fiancee’s parents sat on the opposite side of the aisle baring the same emotions. today was going to be a rollercoaster of lows and highs, most weddings were.

changbin stood in the groom’s dressing room with a sped heartbeat. not only was he nervous, but something about this wasn’t right. like his parents would say, it was only ‘wedding jitters’. changbin felt his palms were sweaty as he ran a hand through his hair while staring into the reflection. he looked sharp with a simple, black tuxedo. the bowtie was not tied for a bit of a fashion taste, he thought it looked better that way. he should be filled with joy but he felt stuck. now was definitely not the time to have cold feet.

“are you doing alright? you look like you’re going to puke,” joked a familiar voice, making changbin turn to his left.

jisung had a coy smile on his lips. he was dressed just as neat with a tuxedo matching changbin’s. changbin chuckled and glanced down while shuffling his feet. it was obvious he was disturbed on something so jisung spoke up.

“but seriously, you don’t look so happy. shouldn’t you be psyched?”

changbin sighed heavily. how was he to answer that question? should he be honest or put up a front? he stuffed his hands into his pockets before turning to face jisung fully.

“i don’t know. i think i’m happy.”

the younger male furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. this was his wedding day. that was not the type of response he should’ve received. where was the excitement? the drive?

“that wasn’t the answer i was hoping for.” jisung said softly.

changbin was silent for a moment as he could hear minor disappointment coming from his friend. jisung didn’t even have to guess what was wrong because he knew. he knew the affects of changbin’s broken relationship with you, and what trauma it brought him. it should’ve never happened like this but changbin couldn’t change the past. he could only move forward and be grateful for what he’s been given.

“look, in a couple of minutes, you are about to marry a wonderful woman who you are going to spend the rest of your life with. it’s time to move on.” jisung’s voice was firm as he said words of advice.

“i can’t.” changbin muttered.

he sounded so defeated. jisung felt for him, he really did, but he wasn’t going to let his friend drown in his own self-pity. he was going to help him see the bright side of things and help him enjoy his wedding. jisung wrapped an arm around changbin’s shoulder reassuringly.

“you can and you will. c’mon, it’s time. big breaths.”

it was like changbin did the opposite of what jisung said as his breathing became heavier. anyone would confuse this as an adrenaline rush since this was the moment his life was supposed to change. it was, however, far from that. he was guided to the packed venue and with every step of the way, he felt his legs become heavier. he couldn’t back down now. changbin had to learn to face reality and to stop running from everything. when he entered the venue, he felt the room hush down until all eyes were on him. if he didn’t feel the pressure before, he definitely felt it now. he took his time walking down the aisle, even shaking hands with a few relatives here and there.

as he began to descend to the end, he caught sight of a familiar set of hair. no . . . it couldn’t be. was he going mad? changbin blinked several times to clear any ideas that he might be hallucinating. but when he reached the end of the aisle and peered out into the crowd, his suspicions were confirmed as his eyes met yours.

and it felt like the world stopped.

euphoria consumed changbin as he took in your appearance, and how overwhelmingly beautiful you were. you weren’t just glowing, no, there was a bright aura shining around you that he never noticed before. you looked happy, purely and genuinely happy. his heart ached at the way you sat there, innocently waiting to watch him confess his vows to another woman. he couldn’t even process how selfless you were to be here and support him in his path to moving on. that only made the crack in his heart break a little further. because this would be the last time he saw you without the opportunity of reconnecting. all of his chances would be thrown away, and for some reason, that hurt more than it should.

all the memories came flooding back like a movie playing in his head. like the way he would hold you and worship you to no end. or the intimate moments between the sheets when changbin wanted nothing more than to make you feel loved. every morning he spent waking up to you and your contagious smile, the way you would care for him when he would come home late from work, and how, no matter what, you continued to support every dream he ever had.

his regret of losing you always ate him up at night. you were everything he could’ve asked for, and he let you go. you slipped through the cracks of his trembling hands, and he wasn’t there to catch you. he promised he would never hurt you, that he would take care of you until the end of your days. now it was him about to promise that to someone else.

he watched as your cheeks flushed a red hue from the way he looked at you. changbin hadn’t even realized the breath he was holding until he let it go. he refused to break eye contact, too afraid to let go. but, as he watched you lean down to speak to someone beside you, he couldn’t help but to follow where your attention was now set.

there sat a little girl, around the age of three, looking impatient. she tugged on your arm with a pout, making it obvious the child was bored. changbin didn’t know who the child was, or why they were talking to you. his sight lingered there for a moment longer until he heard the infamous melody being played. he straightened up and focused at the end of the aisle.

he had been staring at you for so long that he didn’t even notice the bridesmaids and groomsmen had already lined up at the alter. all that was left was the bride.

as she came into sight, changbin took in her form. she was beautiful and elegant in her dress. it made her look stunning as all eyes were on her in the room. a few gasps could be heard as most people were in awe. changbin felt his lips curl into a small smile, yet it felt forced. he always imagined there would be sparks and fireworks. changbin was underwhelmed as his bride walked down the aisle with her father. he should’ve been fixated on her, not you. so why was it that he kept glancing your way?

you kept your eyes on him as well, admiring him like he was a work of art. you wanted to reach out and touch him, to make sure he wasn’t just a dream. you would be lying if you said you were completely over him. that didn’t mean you weren’t going to support him, though. you sat quietly and still while observing the scene before you. the bride was more gorgeous than you could ever imagine, and it didn’t come to a shock to you. changbin deserved to be with someone like her, at least that’s what you had decided.

you tried to mind your business as you sat in your seat. but changbin kept distracting you as he continued to turn his gaze to you when it should’ve been focused somewhere else. butterflies swelled in your stomach with goosebumps alinging the lengths of your arms. no- you had to push through. you weren’t going to ruin this for him. it would be unfair of you.

changbin had to be nudged by jisung who stood behind him as his best man. this made him come back to reality. his bride was now at the alter with him and all that was needed more was a priest.

“we are gathered here today to welcome mr. seo and ms. (b/last name) to join together at the hands of marriage. before we move on, the bride and groom will give their vows.”

changbin swallowed the gulp digging at the back of his throat. his bride offered him a kind smile that should’ve been reassuring but it wasn’t. this wasn’t right . . . not for him, and not for you.

“mr. seo, will you please state your vows.”

changbin frantically glanced at the priest and nodded. this was it. everyone was counting on him.

“first off, i would like to say how beautiful you look today. i never would have imagined this is where we would be right now.” he nervously chuckled, the audience following in suit.

“but, i don’t think i ever thanked you for all that you’ve done for me. since the day i met you, i’ve never felt more complete.”

changbin’s words were becoming more straightforward, and he let his heart speak for him.

“you’ve made me who i am today, and i cannot seem to imagine a world without you. you’re smart, loving, caring, kind, and funny. you’re so damn amazing that i don’t know what i did to deserve you. when i think of the future, i see your face. there’s never been a moment where i haven’t pictured you by my side and i-i-” changbin stuttered as he tried regaining his thoughts.

before he could stop himself, all of his emotions came pouring out of him like a tidal wave crashing into the unforgiving ocean. he was willing to let his words carry him if it meant being released from the anchor weighing him down.

“i’m so sorry for everything i’ve done to you. i pushed you away like you were nothing. the day i lost you was the day i lost half of me. and i tried to move on, i did. do you see where we are now? god, i’ve made so many mistakes in my life but never one this big. i always believed i would devote everything to you but i let you down. we’re no longer one whole, but broken pieces trying to find their way back to each other. please . . . let me find my way back to you, (y/n).”

the room fell silent with shock.

changbin had openly admitted he was not over you in the middle of his own wedding. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing as your mouth was agape. the silence rose to murmurs as it settled in everyone of what just happened. some of which knew who you were fixed their disapproving glances at you. you couldn’t handle this.

what sent you over the edge was the desperation in changbin’s brown orbs, begging you for forgiveness. tears were forming in your eyes as you shook your head.

“i can’t do this,” you whispered.

with that, you grabbed your child in your arms and headed for the exit. your child was thrashing about, not wanting to be held but you didn’t want anything slowing you down from getting out of there. one hand was raised to muffle the sounds of your hushed sobs while the other balanced your child on your hip. you were beginning to head out of sight, and changbin wasn’t going to let you go again.

stepping forward, changbin was ready to chase after you. a hand perched itself on his shoulder, making him whip his head around to the owner. his bride had tears cascading down her doll-like cheeks with pleading hues of brown.

“please, don’t.”

changbin removed her hand from his shoulder. “i’m sorry.”

he was now running down the aisle while his parents screamed at him to come back. his legs worked themselves as fast as they could. he wasn’t going to just let you walk out of his life again. changbin was fed up with running away from his mistakes. weren’t you? his chest heaved as he pushed himself faster until he was completely out of the venue and outside towards the parking lot. you were so close, looking for your car to have an escape from here.

“(y/n)!” he called out to you.

you whirled around, gasping at how changbin had met up with you. he was now standing in front of you with a determined expression painting his face. before he could even speak, you unleashed your hurt on him.

“why are you doing this? do you know how long it took for me to forgive you for what you did? you left me, you left us, and i hated you! i hated you so much for what you did. and here i am, looking like an idiot because i thought that what happened between us had been healed. but it’s obvious we aren’t on the same page.” you fumed.

changbin was so lost- he thought you would be relieved to hear his apology. everything he said was true to his heart and showcased how he really felt about you. wait a minute, did you say us? who else would you be talking about-

“what are you doing, bin?” this time your voice was softer and much less angry.

changbin closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the way you called him bin. he always loved it when you addressed him by that. it made him feel special even though it was a common nickname he went by.

“what do you mean what am i doing? i’m chasing after you.” it was his turn to sound irritated.

“no, i mean, what are you doing here? you should be inside there, marrying that gorgeous woman. she doesn’t deserve this. i don’t deserve this.” you replied.

changbin’s shoulders slumped at your words. did you still not get it that he was still in love with you? what more convincing did it take?

“i love you, (y/n). i mean it, i’ve lived by those words for years now. i never should have left you. i feel nothing but regret every single day for what i did to you, can’t you see that? i’m a mess, i need you.” he choked out.

changbin was beginning to grow emotional as he explained himself. this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. you were supposed to come rushing into his arms and reunite together as one. his anxiety began to rise as you folded your arms across your chest.

“and i needed you. we needed you. where were you?”

your words were so final to him, making him cringe. his heart only began to hurt worse than before. he felt it sink to his stomach, leaving him empty.

“what do you mean by we?” his voice was gentle, barely above a whisper.

you let out a heavy sigh, gazing back at the car that was parked a few feet away from you. you hesitated but knew changbin had to know the truth. he needed to know what he missed out on and left you with. you began to walk to the car, leaving changbin confused.

“where are you going?”

“one second.” you called out.

you disappeared behind the vehicle only to come back around with a child in your arms. that was the child from earlier . . . he took in the appearance of the kid: brown eyes full of light, chubby cheeks, and the most adorable nose. it began to settle within him of who this child was, and who it belonged to. his eyes grew wide in disbelief.

“i thought you said to wait behind the car,” pouted the girl as she reached up to rub her tired eyes.

“mommy wants to introduce you to someone, though.” god, changbin loved your mom voice. he wanted to hear it over and over like a broken record.

the child peered up at him with eyes of wonder. “who is that?”

“an old friend.” you breathed out.

changbin kept switching glances between you and his child. he couldn’t believe he had a kid with you, and he was only now hearing about it. he was now freely crying, overcome completely with emotion. he felt like a fool and nothing could ever describe the feeling he felt after grasping the fact that he missed out on being a father.

“mommy, why is the man crying?” much like other children, she was blunt.

you were hesitant before responding. “he’s going through some stuff. how about you get in your car seat and i’ll talk to him for a minute to help him out. okay?”

the child nodded as you set her down, watching her toddle off towards the car and open it with as much strength as she could. when she crawled into her carseat, that was when changbin flooded you with questions.

“she’s mine? what’s her name? how old is she? when did you have her? why didn’t you tell me?”

you chuckled a bittersweet chuckle, reaching up to brush a few hairs out of your face. “she is yours.” you confirmed. “her name is minji and she is three years old, turning four in a couple of months. i had her seven months after we broke up. i didn’t tell you because you walked out on me. i wasn’t going to let you do that all over again to her.”

changbin placed his hands on his hips, all he felt was guilt and lovesick with the thought of you. he wanted you so badly, but he didn’t deserve a second chance. he wanted nothing more than to see you thrive and live the rest of your life peacefully, even if it meant he wasn’t in the picture. changbin sniffled, throwing his head back to stop the tears.

“i just want you to be happy.”

you nodded, slowly walking forward until you were standing in front of him. your hand extended out to caress his cheek, directing his attention back to you. a sad smile decorated your lips.

“not like this, bin. we’re better off alone.”

changbin rested his eyes closed as he stifled a cry. he always believed in the saying if you love something, set it free. and this was him, letting you go.

“okay.”

holy shit i’m so sorry this took so long, i was debating how i wanted this to end and it’s like really shitty writing i’m so sorry ahhh :///

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