#Another fun fact of birds: you shouldn’t touch their back because for them it’s something only for mates and it can make them enter in heat

[andy1687manga]

Les odio tanto (bésense)

[iwajima]

stuck with me (suna rintarou x f!reader)

KINKTOBER 2020 DAY 2

summary: Suna is obsessed with you. Anything you do turns him on.

a/n: Uhm… I accidentally wrote squirting into this even tho it was meant for another day, i’ll change the daishou&kuroo day...

warnings: yandere!suna, somnophilia, smut/nsfw 18+ dubcon, predatory behavior, abusive relationship...lowkey..., creampie, squirting.

word count: 2.6k

He could feel his blood pump faster. The more he looked at how vulnerable and innocent you looked, fast asleep on his couch, the more enraptured he grew. He sure was lucky you were his. Suna met you in his third year of highschool, you had transferred schools and finding friends was hard for you. Your timidness and naivety was what drew him to you. You were always alone, found in hidden places.

Suna first saw you when you sat in the bleachers, watching the inarizaki team practice late after school. You looked so intrigued by it, the absolute talent and skill had you looking in awe. He wondered what you were doing there, late at night when everyone had already gone home. He doubts any of his teammates knew who you were, he barely even recognizes your face, so who were you? Every night practice was on, you were always there, watching with full attention.

It was late after practice, he and Atsumu were left to pack up due to their constant chattering and bickering. Suna finds you on your phone when he leaves the gym, looking worried at the screen. You were nervously biting your lip, you looked like you were contemplating something, and the tiny hint of fear on your face made him strangely worry for you. He stops in his tracks, curiosity drawing him closer to you.

“Oi Suna-” Atsumu pauses when he sees that his teammate wasn’t by his side and smirks when he sees him walking towards you.

Atsumu looks at you, a brow rising at your unfamiliar face. He was surprised by the fact that Suna was approaching you, he wouldn’t have pegged him to be the type to confront girls. Without warning, your phone was taken from your hands. Your eyes widened, cheeks heating up when you see who was looking at your texts.

“H-hey! Give it back!” You pleaded, jumping around to reach the height of his hand high above.

“Mm..?” His eyes squint at the brightness of your screen as he reads the conversation.

Chisaki

    Oi ___, why don’t you come meet me after school tomorrow, I promise it would be fun.

____

     No, I can’t. I have to study for the upcoming exams.

Chisaki

     The one in five months? Oh come on now. I’m sure you can spare time for me, You don’t want everyone to know what you did, now did you?

Suna furrows his brows in curiosity at his text. What did he mean by what you did? Was it really that bad that you looked terrified by it? Before he could read the rest, your phone was snatched from his grasp. He turns his head to Atsumu, glaring at him.

“Now, now Suna, that wasn’t very nice.” He says playfully.

Atsumu politely smiles at you, returning your phone to you. You shyly mutter a thank you. You were beyond embarrassed. How could he do that shamelessly, acting like the phone belonged to him? You couldn’t bear being with the two strangers for another second, so you turn your heels and start rushing home. Before you could even go far, Atsumu catches up to you, blocking your path as he towers over you.

“Where are you going little bird?” His smile was far from genuine, it had a sinister undertone that made you feel uncomfortable, you knew something didn’t feel right.

“Oi.”

Suna knew what he was doing. He was trying to prey on you, to add you to his sick little list of girl’s he’s been with. Now that he was captain, his ego grew even more and so did his reputation. All the attention made him believe he could get what he wanted, even his brother was irked by him. Before Atsumu could twirl a strand of your hair around his finger, Suna roughly grabs his wrist, sending him daggers. Atsumu smirks at his action, they both knew it was going to be a competition. He snatches his wrist back and scoffs before returning his attention to you.

“You sure are pretty. I’ve never seen you before, you must be new. What were you doing all alone late at night hm? It’s pretty dangerous you know. Why don’t you come find me tomorrow? I’ll be your new friend.” He winks at you, testing Suna’s patience as he inches closer to you.

You were frozen. It took you a while to realize what was happening. You were being surrounded by two of the Inarizaki volleyball players, you were beyond intimidated. If you were to run, you couldn’t have. Suna had blocked your path from behind while Atsumu blocked the path in front of you. They were close enough that you could feel their heat radiating from their bodies, your senses were put on alert mode that you couldn’t think of anything to do.

“That’s enough.” Suna says sternly, eyes never leaving Atsumu.

Atsumu was visibly enjoying this. The way you bit your lip to the way you tried your best to avoid eye contact. Suna would never admit it, but so did he. He could almost feel you shake in fear against him. He wonders how scared you could get to make him break his character and unleash the unrestrained monster inside of him.

After that interaction, you spent more time with the third year volleyball players. Suna was strangely social, his team noticed, only when he’s with you though, they’ve never seen him like that. Whenever you came to practice, he’d greet you, gave you food and sat with you for a while to have a pleasant conversation before practice starts. He was unusually… mellow, but his friends were glad that at least one person was able to make him softer.

Atsumu didn’t stop with his flirting, chased after you and was constantly around you when you’re not with Suna whether it be before school, during or after, he was always in your company. He was persistent for sure, constantly trying to woo you with gifts, buying you flowers and insisting that he takes you out every once in a while. You mistook this for interest, not knowing that he just wanted to have the first taste. Suna was absolutely furious when he saw you marked up by his filthy mouth and hands. It was like he had defiled and ruined what was his to indulge in. He knew he shouldn’t have waited too long and let Atsumu be around you, you were after all so naive and weak, a bastard like Atsumu could easily manipulate you into sleeping with them.

It took extreme control for him to not kill Atsumu. Atsumu had never seen his teammate like this, absolutely furious, eyes wide in anger as words that stung like his punches escaped his mouth. Atsumu had to beg for him to stop, and to him it was the most embarrassing thing he did. Yielding. Losing. Especially to Suna.

When the team hears that Atsumu is out of commission for a while, they were absolutely bewildered. They all stared in shock when they came to visit him. Who could have beaten him so bad that he didn’t even say a single word. If something like this were to happen, he would bitch continuously until the team would cut their own ears off. Even Osamu didn’t know, he was worried but a part of him kind of liked seeing his brother get what he deserved. Atsumu didn’t dare look at Suna in the eyes, he would scurry away whenever he was within his vicinity.

Instead of being furious with you for being so stupid, Suna embrasses you in a tight hug, hand stroking your hair gingerly, leaving you confused by his sudden affection. He keeps his face nuzzled into your neck, savouring each breath he takes as he inhales your scent. You smelled divine to him. He wanted to keep you all to himself, and he did.

Wherever you went, whatever you did, Suna had to be there, at the very least had to know every single thing you did if you were out alone, which were on very rare occasions. You wished you could go to the supermarket without him coming, but hey, he was protecting you and making sure you were safe right? He didn’t even let you attend college, get your license or get your own job, he insisted he could provide for both of you. And you agreed. Because he loves you, right? You didn’t have any friends, just like your highschool self. But Suna is all you need… right?

You once tried to sneak out, in hopes that you could step outside without his company just to breathe the fresh air. When he sees you reach for the doorknob, he asks you where you were going, the way he said it made you immediately run back to him, swearing that you were just going to clean it.

He punished you by fucking you into your shared mattress all night, by the end of it you were tear-stained and comepletely tired, body unable to move a single inch. He has you wrapped around his finger, a part of you absolutely adored him, he was kind to you, loving, for the most part. But whenever you see his other side, you wished you had never stepped into that gym.

Suna trails a finger from your ankle to your hip. You were wearing a thin silky night dress and he could see your perked nipples through the fabric. He couldn’t control himself. He carefully carries you, trying his best not to wake you up, before he places you on your soft shared bed.

He just wanted to see how you would react if you were to wake up with his cock inside of you. Would you panic or would you smile up at him in adoration like you always do when he thrusts into your little cunny?

His hands run up on the side of your hips, pulling the skimpy dress above your breasts. He latches his mouth to your nipple, making you squirm in your sleep. Your soft skin was being touched all over by his calloused hands. A finger hooks itself to your panties before pulling them off smooth legs.The pads of his fingers run up along your wet slit, collecting the juices to cover your clit with it as he massages tight circles against it.

You were moaning, but you were still unconscious. He wasted no time in spreading your legs and lips before moving his mouth to your bundle of nerves. His tongue was pressed harshly on your clit before they prodded your entrance and sank it into your tight cunt.

The sound of wetness bounced off the walls, the fact that he made you so wet, especially in your sleep, made his head feel dizzy again. He brings his tongue back up to your clit, swirling around it before sucking on the sensitive spot. He inserts a finger followed by another, in order to stretch you out for his cock. Although he would love to just immediately delve into your cunt, he wanted to be gentler with you since you had been such a good girl for him all week.

No matter how many times he fucked you, you were still as innocent and shy as you were in highschool. And he loved that about you. A hand slithers itself back up to your tit, pinching and rubbing the sensitive nipple around his fingers. When he feels your hole tighten around his fingers, he thrusts his fingers faster into your cunt, massaging the spongy spot over and over again, sucking harshly on your nub until you finally come, your juices gushing out of you. He really made you squirt in your sleep.

You moaned, blinking your eyes to adjust to the light as you raise your head, to see Suna covered in wetness between your thighs. He was licking up every drop, making your face heat up at the sight, He made you cum in your sleep.

“R-rintarou…” you say sleepily.

He laughs, “I know baby.”

He moves to hover above you, kissing your forehead before caressing your body. Your eyes were still hazed with fatigue. You looked so adorable, confused and tired. He shushes you, urging you to fall back asleep and let him take care of your body. You oblige, softly apologizing that you were too tired to please him.

He strokes his cock a few times before pushing his tip up and down your slit, the feeling of your arousal coating his dick making him even harder. He plays with your cunny, slapping your clit a few times with his head before finally sinking into your pussy. He didn’t waste time and immediately bottoms out, grunting at the feeling of your warm walls clamping down on him. You were still in and out of sleep, but you felt like your entire body was on fire.

He starts off slow, relishing the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls. He picks up the pace as he grows impatient to catch his release. His mouth encases your nipple in warmth, sucking and licking it, feeling the nub harden again.The sounds of skin slapping fills his ears as his mouth squelches from your wet nipple.

You were both moaning, not caring if your neighbours heard you. He was sure they’d enjoy your sweet moans, they probably jacked off to the idea of his precious little ___ being fucked nice and good. After all, Suna knew your neighbours because they were in his volleyball team.

Your wetness begins to soak the sheets under you. Normally Suna would try to minimize the amount of mess when the two of you fuck, but after you squirting all over his face and torso, he couldn’t hold back, he needed you to do it again. He circles your clit once again with harsh figure eight’s as his mouth continues to lap at your tits, adding vibration as he moans around them.

He feels your walls begin to spasm, increasing his speed to help you reach your high. Your walls hug his cock tightly, as you release warm juices around his length, spraying his lower torso, balls and thighs. You moaned loudly when he continues to fuck your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you.

You were fully awake by now, it was impossible to fall asleep when Suna was fucking you this good. His eyes were glued onto your bouncing tits, he was fucking you so hard and fast that the headboard slammed against the walls.

“Rintarou...p-please cum i-in me!” you choke out, you could feel another release coming and it was coming hard.

“Fuck- i’m gonna fuck my cum into you until you have a little cumtum, would you like that?” He kisses you before licking your neck and leaving a few bites.

“Y-yes please! I-i wanna be full o-of your cum Rintarou!” You whine.

His trusts grow sloppy before he pushes his head against your cervix, releasing his cum into your womb as your cunt spasms again and squirts all over his lower half. He keeps his cock in you, not wasting a drop of sperm.

He sighs and proceeds to take out his cock out of your spent walls. He looks down at your pussy, laughing when a thought pops into his head, thinking you look like a custard donut. His eyes stared at the mess you made, the sheets were drenched and so was he.

“Fuck ___… look at what your little cunny did, aren’t you embarrassed?” he teases.

Your cheeks blush when you see how much you squirt, curling into yourself to hide your body as you feel slight shame. Suna smirks down at you, before leaving your face with kisses that made you squirm. He gets up to turn off the lights and returns to you, not bothering to clean the bed. He spreads your arms and legs again before nuzzling into you and laying on your fatigued body.

As thoughts pass by in his head, he remembers the first moment he interacted with you. He never found out about what that guy wanted from you and what you did.

[thepremedthatwrites]

Stable Boy

request: Hey may I request a smut with Edmund in an au sort of thing? Either reader is a princess with a thing for Edmund and they’re enemies to lovers or he’s a servant in her kingdom and he is her secret admirer and he eventually tempts her and smut ensues lmao thank you

warning: smut below the cut

I burst into the room, the sound of the large mahogany doors banging against the walls echoing throughout the room.  My parents both turned to me.  My father held an amused smile on his face whilst my mother furrowed her eyebrows, a frown very much evident.  “(Y/n), where were you?” my mother questioned as I made my way to my seat.

“My guess is riding horses,” my father answered with, leaning forward to pick out a blade of hay from my (h/c) locks.  

“I promise to be on time for dinner tomorrow,” I said.

“That’s what you’ve been saying for as long as you could speak,” my mother replied with, letting out a sigh.

“What do you expect of her Maria, she’s a teenage girl,” my father chuckled as he took a bite of the chicken.  My father caught my eye, giving me a quick wink.  I smiled back, looking between my two parents.  My father was laid back in his seat as he ate, a golden crown atop his head.  My mother sat straight up, as if balancing the piece of metal that dressed her head.  I brought my hand up to my head in order to feel my own crown only to find nothing there.  Dread filled me as the realization sunk in.  I tried to play it off, forcing a smile on my face as I ate, hoping my parents just assumed I had left my tiara in my bedchambers.

A knock on the door caused all three of us to turn.  Standing in the door frame was a boy who seemed to be around my age, if not a year or so older.  His dark brown locks fell onto his forehead, his cheeks a light shade of pink.  In his hands was my tiara.  The boy gave a quick bow before speaking.  “I apologize for disrupting your dinner but I found the princess’s tiara in the stables.”  My mom glanced at me, her eyes filled with annoyance.

The boy walked towards me, his eyes looking into mine.  His action surprised me.  Most people wouldn’t dare look a royal in the eyes.  His brown eyes seemed to hold a sparkle in them as I grabbed my tiara from his hands.  Our fingers brushed and I felt my cheeks warm at the contact.  The boy bowed one last time before turning and exiting.  I couldn’t help but watch as he left, not turning to my parents until he was completely out of sight.

“(Y/n).  Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” my mother questioned as I focused my attention back to the conversation. 

“Of course, mother,” I replied with, taking a sip from my goblet.  “I’ll be sure to be more careful with my tiara next time.” 

A week had gone by since the tiara incident and my mind had forgotten about the stable boy.  I was reading in the library when a servant came into the room.  I looked to see an envelope in their hand.  “A letter for you, Your Highness.”  I put down my book, as the servant handed me the envelope. 

“Thank you,” I said, already tearing it open.  The servant nodded before leaving.  I unfolded the paper within to see a note scrawled in small and neat handwriting. 

I look up at the moon and tell her of your beauty.

The stars listen to my stories of my love for you.

Written in the night sky are my dreams of you.

-E

I felt my face warm as I read the letter, a smile subconsciously forming on my face.  I looked around the library to see no one else present.  Never had I received a love letter before.  The thought of someone’s admiration for me being strong enough to cause them to write something so beautiful made me blush.  My mind wandered as I thought of who would write me something like this.  Perhaps the Prince of Archenland.  But he had never shown an interest in writing.  Maybe a lord from Calormen.  Though any particular person failed to come to mind.  Whoever it was had written E at the end.  Perhaps it was the beginning of their name?

I slipped the note back into the envelope before gently putting it into my book.  I then closed my book and made my way to my room as my mind continued to think of who it could be.  I couldn’t think of anyone I knew who had a name starting with E.  I went to bed that night preoccupied with the thoughts of who my secret admirer may be.

The next day, both my parents had left on business meetings leaving me alone in the castle, spare the staff that never left the grounds.  I made my way to the stables, excited to be able to ignore my responsibilities for the day and just ride.  I walked into the building, the white horse closest to my left letting out a whine.  “Alright Queenie, I hear you,” I chuckled as I made my way over to her.  

“She only ever lets you get close to her,” a voice said causing me to jump.  I turned to see the same stable boy that had returned my tiara.  “She won’t even let me near her for too long.  A pain to groom that’s for sure.”  I was slightly taken aback by how nonchalantly the boy was talking to me, as if I wasn’t the princess.  I would be lying if I didn’t say it was a nice change.  “My name’s Edmund.” 

“(Y/n),” I said before immediately regretting it.  Of course he knew my name.  At this, he let out a chuckle.

“I would hope so.”  He helped me prepare Queenie for a ride as we continued to converse.  “I don’t wish to come off as pushy but would you mind if I joined you for a ride?”

“I don’t recall stable boys taking horses out for rides.”

“It’s not really something I should be doing,” Edmund said, shrugging, “But I do enjoy your company and would like to extend this meeting.  That is, if you enjoy my company as well.”  I let out a laugh.

“Fair enough.”  He gave a grin, rushing to the horse in the stable next to Queenie’s.  We both made our way out of the stables, away from the castle and towards the lush forest that sat behind it.  “Thank you for returning my tiara,” I said, the sound of bird chirping and the swaying of leaves the only other thing able to be heard.

“It was nothing.  Just doing my duties as a stable boy.”

“I’m starting to question if you understand what a stable boy does,” I chuckled.  “Returning royal property is not one of them.”

“Ah you caught me.  I was only using the tiara as an excuse to see the beautiful Princess again.”  

“Oh, now you’re just being sarcastic.”

“Not at all,” Edmund chuckled.  “You’re one of, if not the most, beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

“You must not have met many women then,” I chuckled.  Edmund’s smile disappeared at my words.

“I’m serious (y/n).  You are.”  My heart stopped for a moment. 

“Why do you treat me the way you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t treat me like a princess.  You treat me like anyone else.”

“I guess cause you’re so easy to talk to,” he replied with, shrugging his shoulders.  “If it bothers you, I can still call you Princess (y/n).”  I scrunch my face.

“Please don’t.”  He let out a chuckle.  “I know we’ve only really met and I really shouldn’t trust you but may I confide in you?”  We had now stopped moving as we had reached the edge of a cliff that looked out to the beach below, the sound of the ocean waves crashing onto the shore faint.

“Of course, anything.”

“Yesterday, I received a letter,” I said, fighting to hold back my smile.  Edmund seemed to straighten his back at this. 

“What was in said letter?”  

“It was a love letter!” I exclaimed, my smile now on full display.

“Do you have any idea who it may be from?”

“I’m not sure.  But they signed it off with an E.  This has only made it harder.  I can’t think of any royals with a name that starts with an E.  Even when I rack my brain of nobles, I struggle to think of someone.”  Edmund’s lips had formed a straight line as he turned around, heading back the way we came.  I urged Queenie to follow.

“What if it wasn’t from a royal or noble?” Edmund questioned.

“Edmund, what are you talking about?”  I stopped myself before I could say another word.  It was like a curtain was drawn from in front of my eyes and I could see clearly again.  “It was you, wasn’t it?”  He only nodded.  I chewed on the inside of my cheek, thinking of something to say.  Edmund was only a stable boy.  I had been raised to marry someone of higher status.  But that didn’t negate the fact that Edmund was one of the few people I’ve been able to talk to so easily.  Or the fact that he was incredibly attractive.  No.  “We could never…” I started, my thought trailing off before it had even really started.

“Why not?  Because of my social status?”  His words hovered in the air as we stayed in silence for a moment.  “Even if we could never have something serious…” Edmund started, turning to look at me.  “We could always have some fun.”  My heart raced at what he was insinuating.

“Edmund, that is completely inappropriate.”

“Or hot,” he counteracted, a smirk on his face as we neared the stables.  I watched as Edmund slid off his horse before coming towards me.  He placed his hands on my waist and I felt my face already start to warm at the contact.  Edmund helped me down.  As my feet touched the ground, I noticed just how close we were.  We were so close I was afraid he might be able to hear my heart beating rapidly.

“If we were to have a secret relationship,” I said, causing Edmund to hold his breath in anticipation.  “Nobody could know.” 

“Yeah, that’s usually how secret relationships work.”  I rolled my eyes at this, causing Edmund to chuckle.  His hands started to trace my curves causing me to inhale sharply.  “So, are you in, princess?”  I let out a small whimper at the nickname causing Edmund to raise an eyebrow.  “I didn’t know I was already getting you so hot and bothered.”

“Oh cut that crap Edmund.  You know exactly what you’re doing.”  Edmund’s smirk seemed to only prove my point.  He grabbed my hand, looking both ways and making sure nobody was around before leading me to the back of the stables.  

“We’ll have to be quick,” he whispered, his hot breath tickling my skin as he bent forward to untie the strings of my dress.  I wasted no time taking off his shirt, my hands wandering his body and tracing his abs.  Edmund’s fingers tickled my back as he undid the strings, allowing the fabric to fall off of my body with a final tug.  He was quick to remove my undergarments, leaving me completely exposed to him.  His hands wandered my body, his eyes covering everything his hands couldn’t get to.  I worked quickly to take off his pants, revealing his extremely erect cock.  I let out a small moan at the sight.  He pushed me backwards causing me to lay on the stable floor.  While it would usually be an uncomfortable arrangement, I was too worried with getting Edmund to fuck me to care.  He hovered over me, his lips meeting mine for the first time.

I let my hands go to his brown locks as our mouths moved in sync.  The kiss was hungry as we both explored each other's mouths.  Edmund pulled away far too quickly causing me to whine in protest.  “I’m sorry princess but we have to make this quick so that nobody finds us.”  

I nodded in agreement before spreading my legs open for Edmund.  He let out a low moan at the sight, stroking himself a few times as his eyes took me in.  I watched as he lined himself with me, concentration etched onto his face.  I threw my head back in pleasure as Edmund pushed into me.  I felt myself work to accommodate him.  He put down his hands on either side of my face as he started a steady pace.  

“Fuck Edmund,” I gasped, my hand gripping onto his forearm.  His arm muscles strained to support his weight as he started to pick up the pace.  I wrapped my legs around him, offering him easier access.  The new position caused a new surge of pleasure.  I arched my back, letting out a moan.  Edmund lowered himself onto his forearms, his mouth right next to my ear, his warm breath tickling me as he panted.  I wrapped my arms around him, my nails digging into his skin as the pleasure started to become too much.  “I’m so close.”

“That’s it princess,” Edmund said while picking up his pace.  My nails raked down his back as I felt my entire body shake from pleasure.  My eyes were forced shut, a blinding white light behind my eyelids.  Edmund’s name fell from my mouth as I slowly came down from my high.  I felt Edmund pull out of me.  I opened my eyes to see him stroking himself, his face contorted with pleasure.  

I propped myself upright as I moved his hand, replacing it with my mouth.  “Fuck,” he gasped as I started to move my head.  I pushed myself to take as much of him as I could, feeling his tip hit the back of my throat.  His fingers were entangled with my (h/c) locks as his hand pushed me to take more of him.  Edmund let out a moan as I felt his hips buck before the feeling of something warm shooting down my throat.  I pulled away, swallowing the slightly bitter liquid.  “Holy shit,” Edmund said, his eyes lidded as he looked at me.

“Yeah,” I agreed.  We sat there in silence for a moment, recuperating from the intense orgasms we both had just experienced.  Edmund’s hand brushed a lock of hair from my face as he smiled at me.  His hand then traveled down to my cheek, caressing my face as I leaned into the touch.  The sound of someone’s voice caused us to start scrambling for our clothes.  

“Edmund, is Princess (y/n) here?” a male voice questioned.  Edmund had already put on his shirt as he peaked over the bale of hay that hid his naked bottom and my naked self from whoever was speaking.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head.

“Alright.  The King and Queen have arrived so if you see her, please let her know.”

“Will do.”  We both held our breath as the man’s footsteps slowly got quieter.  

“Guess I should go,” I said, already starting to get dressed.

“Yeah,” Edmund said, a frown on his face.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be meeting again very soon,” I said, causing him to smile again.  “Just next time can we find a place other than the stables?”

“I’ll work on that,” Edmund chuckled, pulling me in for one last kiss.  “Now go, your parents are waiting for you princess.”  I nodded before getting up.  I took one last glance at Edmund who was still laying on the floor, his shirt untucked from his pants and his brown hair a mess, before heading off back to the castle.

[exquisitley-obsessed]

Fiancés, Firebirds, Foxes and Fawns: 12

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed

Summary: A few weeks after Briallyn’s attempt at uniting with Koschei, Lucien opens the door of Lockhart Manor to find Elain, cold from the rain and holding a note from the High Lady of the Night Court demanding her to assist Lucien in building alliances with the human councils. Forced to work together by their exhausted High Lord and Lady, Elain is able to convince anyone to do anything, while Lucien has the acquaintances to go anywhere he likes. Together, they attempt to unite the fae and mortal lands and unravel the deal made between Koschei and Vassa, while Lucien remains haunted by his own promise to Elain’s father. ELUCIEN, POST-ACOSF

Pairings: Elain x Lucien, Elucien

Warnings:  slight-NSFW

MY MASTERLIST

THIS FIC’S MASTERLIST

AO3

Chapter Twelve: Day Dreams, Night Terrors

The kiss was short – sweet – merely a brush of their lips before Elain pulled back an inch to meet his eye. Lucien was not even sure it had happened. He had felt a pressure on his mouth but the notion that Elain Archeron had just kissed him seemed to go through one ear and out the other.

Surely not. Surely not.

But she was holding onto his shoulders, looking up at him with such an excited concern that he couldn’t help but feel himself give way. Elain had kissed him, and thus finally, some formality broke down between them. Lucien bowed his head and caught her lips before the moment could be ruined by their own stupidity.

He felt the slight intake of breath his mate took before he brushed his lips against her own, pressing into her with a bit more firmness than she had. The arm resting by his side came up to brush against her delicate jaw, his other hand bracing himself on the tree behind her.

After the first brush, he proceeded with a second, then a third. Then, he was pushing his lips against hers in their first, full-bodied kiss. As he did so, he pressed his fingers against her jaw, tilting her head up and back so that he may have fuller access.

Kissing her was thoughtless. It seemed the most natural thing in the world, and as their lips began to move against one another, Lucien had the feeling that he had done this a thousand times before.

Nothing she did was lost on him. The way her hands shyly dragged from his shoulders to his chest, nor how he could feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. The way she still had to stand some-what on her tiptoes to reach him. Each delicate noise that left her mouth, the fragile gasps to the high hums – he noticed it all.

He could’ve done it forever. He could’ve stayed within this moment till the stars went out one by one and the world was nothing but dust and ash. The warmth spreading through his chest was golden and warm, and felt like the light of a thousand suns and Lucien swore he could feel pure love racing through his veins.

Except in some way, it was stronger than love. It was the feeling of the glory of fate – the feeling of finding a home.

Lucien was just about to take his tongue and taste her when he felt the kiss come to a natural end. Even though he’d never admit it, even after that chaste embrace, he felt as though he needed a break. There was so much emotion raging within him as he reached a peak of happiness he had not experienced in a long time, perhaps ever.

Slowly, torturously, he pulled his lips back as he rested his forehead against hers. In the kiss, their bodies had moved closer together, and he felt her leg slotted between his own, their chests touching as well as their souls.

For a few laboured moments, all that could be heard between them were their heavy, shared breaths. At least until Lucien couldn’t take it any longer and pulling back, he looked at her, as it was his favourite thing to do. His mate kept her eyes closed as she seemed to focus on her breath, her hands having come to gently hold the wrist of the one hand holding her jaw.

She was everything to him. From the first time, he’d laid eyes on her to this moment, to every one in between. She was everything to him, she was his purpose.

His breath. His sword. His home. His heart.

Though this exhilarated him to some degree he was not necessarily scared, for he knew as long as he ventured down this path with her hand in his, it would all make perfect sense.

Finally, Elain opened her eyes and looked at him with curiosity and hope. The timid doe coming to trust the crafty fox.

“Will you still gift me the moon?” Lucien laughed, loud and bright, before quickly lowering his head to catch her lips with his.

“I will bring you every star in the sky,” Lucien murmured against her lips. “And if they do not shine bright enough for you, then I shall kill the Gods themselves for having displeased you.”

He heard Elain’s delicate gasp of breath and continued to kiss her for several more moments, unable to stop himself as he slowly got drunk on the feeling of her touch and the sound of her sighs. Slowly and with remorse, Lucien pulled back a second time, both his hands now against her jaw, holding her to himself.

Elain took several breaths, simply looking at him before she sighed, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Shut up,” Lucien said plainly, lowering his head.

“But-” Elain protested.

“Just shut up.”

This time Lucien bent and pressed his lips against the soft, golden plain of her neck. A small sound escaped his mate, something akin to a whimper and he groaned in response as his body reacted to the sound.

Slowly, so that his mate would feel every touch of his lips, Lucien left a trail of burning kisses downwards to the sweetest, most intimate crook of her neck, where he burrowed his nose and lips. He kissed her there for several moments, feeling her squirm and listening to her whimper before he sucked the skin taut. There was some feral, beastly part of himself that wanted nothing more than to mark her perfect skin, not in a way that hurt, but just enough that he may lay claim to her – that he may mark her as his.

“Lucien-” Elain gasped, her hands burrowing themselves in his hair. Lucien continued, kissing along her shoulder to the strap of her dress.

His instinct was to slowly drop the strap off her shoulder so that it would leave a trail of goosebumps, but he hesitated when he reached the fabric. If Lucien began to undress Elain, in the state they were both in, there would be no stopping them.

“We should stop.” Lucien finally concluded, placing one final kiss on her collarbone before standing straight and yet, not moving away.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Elain flushed, her eyes skirting away from his. A jolt of anger coursed through him. Because she shouldn’t be apologising, and he knew exactly who was to blame for her feeling like she must.

“Don’t apologise, ‘Lainy,” Lucien husked, reaching and taking her hand and bringing her knuckles to his mouth. She turned back and watched him with wide eyes. “I’m only stopping because-” Lucien took her hand and wrapped it around the side of his neck. “-when I have you I want you lain out on silken sheets in a heavily warded room, in which no one can hear the things I’ll do to you, nor the filthy things I say.”

Elain seemed to only stare at him, her beautiful brown eyes wide and alarmed and yet, he could read the excitement there.

“Oh…right…okay…” Elain eventually stuttered, and a beautiful blush began across her cheeks and nose.

Lucien had another urge to kiss her.

“Do you, um, do you want to talk about…” Lucien said, slightly bashfully. Again, he thought of Tamlin poking fun at him at the sight of Lucien tripping on his tongue around a female. It was unheard of, he was the silver-tongued fox, infamous for making others blush and yet there never being a crack in his mask – literally.

“No,” Elain surprised Lucien by shaking her head, “We’ve both said a lot today I think…I think this is just nice for now.” Lucien nodded.

“I’m sorry, by the way. Some of the things I said…”

“Me too…”

They shared another look and Lucien, again, really wanted to kiss her. Though really, that wasn’t a new feeling.

They stood like that for a while, merely just absorbing the moment – the sound of the water gushing in the river, the melodies of the numerous birds, hidden in the trees. The feeling of one another, of the fingers and thumbs brushing strands of hair away from foreheads and skirting along the columns of throats.

It was like existing within a melody, or a beautiful painting. Together, in this moment, they were art – who could blame them for wanting to stay a little while.

Eventually, Lucien stepped back, but not without extending his hand which Elain took immediately. Together, they walked to the lip of the water, their intertwined fingers swinging shyly between them. They were both so elated over the small staple of intimacy and yet, it was unusual and foreign, at least for now.

“We got a little, ahem, distracted but that was some seriously good winnowing.” Lucien smiled down at her, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand.

“Really?” The excitement in her eyes made his heart ache.

“Yes! Of course, it normally takes fae years to accomplish winnowing a few feet but, I assumed you’d be more skilled than most.”

“Really…I…I wouldn’t think anyone thought that of me,” Elain said shyly, looking down at the water where little orange fish were swimming in circles deep below the furious gushing.

“I’ve always thought that of you,” Lucien said in a stern enough voice that no one could mistake his words for anything but the truth. And it was, true, he’d always known of her talent.

He’d always seen her, even when he could not speak to her.

Just then, Elain’s stomach growled loudly, and an adorably mortified expression came onto her features as her free hand slapped over her stomach.

“Oh, my Mother!” She gasped, her cheeks flushing even redder.

Lucien just tilted his head back laughing. The fact Elain still cared about appearing as a Lady even after their rather improper embrace against a tree trunk delighted him to no end.

“Hungry?” Lucien grinned down at her, to which she slapped at his chest playfully.

“Breakfast was a long time ago,” she huffed, though she was still smiling. Suddenly, Lucien remembered something. Turning away from the lip of the water, Lucien looked back to the tree in which they had just been braced against.

“What?” Elain hummed.

“I just want to check something,” Lucien tugged her along. Now that he had her hand in hers, he wasn’t going to dare let go.

After a moment of quiet assessment, Lucien realised he was right. The tree – their tree – bore fruit. They were little round purple baubles, about the size of Elain’s fist. The tree was centuries old, and the lowest fruit was far too far for Elain, but Lucien could reach it no problem.

Reaching up, Lucien plucked two before looking at the fruit in his hand.

“I’m not sure if they’re safe to eat,” he murmured, “I’ll have one first and then, y’know, if I’m still alive it should be okay.” Elain just tipped her head back and laughed.

“Lucien…they’re figs!” Lucien merely glared down at the suspicious fruit. Elain just laughed loudly. “They’re fine, I promise.”

Elain smiled; she took one of the figs out of his hand. She then removed the hand that was holding Lucien’s, he went to complain until she turned and began to slide her hand into his pocket. It was Lucien’s turn for his breath to catch in his throat as her small hand rubbed against his upper thigh. His mouth went dry, and he had absolutely no idea what was happening until she pulled his small knife out of his pocket, the one he’d been using on the apple.

She proceeded to carve into the Fig, cutting it into several pieces. Pocketing the knife, she held out a slice to Lucien. For a moment, Lucien was stunned that she would offer him a piece before feeding herself, and then he was shocked at the fact she was offering him food. Despite his heart galloping into an elevated pace, Lucien knew that Elain’s mind must’ve skipped the whole ‘food means an accepted bond’ fae custom. It was only when Lucien did not immediately take the fruit that Elain’s eyes widened as she realised what she was doing.

“I’d rather not,” Lucien said quickly, with a surprising amount of ease, “Human food is barely tolerable as it is, I can’t imagine their fruit is much better.”

Elain nodded at him, her eyes still on the piece of fruit. And just like that they were once more confronted by the endless complications of their relationship, the weight that had been placed on them before they’d even had a chance to properly introduce themselves.

Lucien shoved it all to the side. He didn’t care. Elain had kissed him today – that was enough to give him enough hope for a lifetime.

“Eat,” he nodded at the fruit. There was something about his mate being hungry that was making his skin itch, it was like an overwhelming urge to go out hunting or something despite there being a warm meal waiting for them the minute they got back.

It was a need to provide and care for, and Lucien didn’t mind it one bit.

He watched as she wrapped her lips around the inner part of the fruit which was pink with yellow seeds. Slowly, she both bit and sucked on the fruit, the flesh coming away easily into her mouth. Lucien swallowed thickly, his body responding eagerly to the sight of her fruit-stained lips.

Elain met his eye instinctively, as though she could hear his thoughts, and he watched as her eyes lapped into a darker shade of brown.

“We should head back,” Lucien husked, in a pained voice.

“Good idea,” she said, dryly.

***

Lucien had winnowed the two of them back to the front door, holding her hand the entire time. It was only when they entered the foyer did Lucien agree to part with her as Elain wished to change her dress before they ate.

After she’d disappeared upstairs he’d stood waiting by the window with a glass of whiskey, trying to not picture Elain pulling off her white dress, nor her getting into the bath and lathering herself in soap and running a damp rag across her skin.

She’d looked better today, he’d decided. Out there in the sun, throwing her hair into a bun as she focused and worked. The sweat making her skin glisten, the heat making her cheeks flush. He’d practically watched as she browned slightly over the course of their lesson, freckles popping up in clusters along her arms.

Gods, she was beautiful.

It seemed to be the most recurring thought in his mind these days. But she truly was the most beautiful creature he’d ever beheld, and she only seemed to grow in splendour. There were times where he wished he were a painter, just so he may be able to capture her essence. When something exists as magnificent as that, sometimes all you want to do is reflect it in your own creations.

Lucien was impatient as he stood, but merely because everything around him now reminded him of her.

Looking out the window he could see the gardens with her Honeysuckle mountains near the stone walls. The breeze made him think of how her hair danced in the wind. The distant birdsong reminded him of her laugh. The warmth of the sun on his skin made him think of her hands, splayed across his chest.

Then there was the kiss.

Gods, that kiss.

He hadn’t been expecting it, to say the least. Whilst he knew that there remained an ocean between them in terms of complications, the waters didn’t look so murky anymore. They were bright and clear, and through the glassy aquamarine, Lucien could see all kinds of thriving life.

The bond was satiated and strangely, silent between his ribs. Where there used to be an agonising, dull tautness was now a feeling of relaxation and comfort. He could still feel the string, leading upwards to where Elain – his mate – was changing, but it seemed to float in the air rather than bind.

Footsteps pushed Lucien to down his whiskey, setting the glass on the windowsill as he turned back to watch his mate enter the room.

Gods, something had changed between them, because she had never looked so impossibly lovely.

The dress was an amethyst cream chiffon that floated around her, making her look as though she had truly descended from the heavens. Her hair was unleashed, slightly wild with the head.

He was right, she was tanner, and there were a few freckles now clustered across her nose. Gods she was…

She was…

“Perfect,” he hadn’t meant to say it, and it truly only came out as a whisper, but Elain’s cheeks flushed a dusty pink as her fingers began to twist together in front of her dress.

Lucien cleared his throat before walking over to their usual dining table, Elain followed close behind and Lucien promptly pulled back a chair for her to sit. Elain gave him a shy, pleased look as she sank into the chair, to which Lucien winked with a smirk as he circled and sat opposite her.

Within seconds food was placed in front of them with a bustle of maids and cooks. Lucien felt Elain watching him as he avidly chatted with several of the maids and even the chef. He’d taken a liking to the residents, and he couldn’t help but feel rather in his element as he smiled and made friendly chat.

Though, he truly wished to only talk to one person and eventually, his patience ran out as he softly sent the maids away and turned to his mate.

“Sorry, I often get carried away with talking,” he said, rather shyly as he dug in.

“No, I…I like it,” her voice was butter and honey, and it was making him melt.

“Well, the skill of having a loose jaw is not always a blessing, at least not in the fae world.” He grinned before tapping his ruined cheek with the handle of his fork. Elain’s brows furrowed slightly, as her eyes drifted across his scar and eye.

Not for the first time, Lucien felt a wave of self-consciousness run over him. It was strange to think that he himself was not yet used to having the scar, given that shortly after he received it, Aramantha had bound that horrid mask to his face.

He guessed he was over it now but, being fae is difficult for this exact reason. As Lucien had only been scared for a small portion of his life and before that he’d had centuries of being known as the most handsome son of Autumn. What he had lacked in martial prospects he had made up for in aesthetic. With his consistently tan skin and healthy, long hair, he’d caught the eye of many fae. Where all his brothers were pale with soft features, Lucien was tall and dark with a large, sharp nose and strong, angled brows.

Before Aramantha or Tamlin, or even Jes, Lucien had often been the talk of the Court. For he had rarely taken lovers, and many wondered what it would take for him to wish to bed you.

Though, after the tragedy of Jes, in his early days as Spring Emissary, he had been going through fae at a pace that some said put Helion to shame. His days of being compared to the High Lord of Day continued into his scarred days and even when he had the mask – but by then, sex was not merely an extension of being the most handsome son of Autumn, but rather Lucien trying to prove to himself that he had not changed.

That he was still…him.

“Do you like it?” Lucien said after a few moments of silence. He was expecting Elain’s eyes to shyly flick away from where they’d been tracing his scar, but instead, she merely tilted her head.

“Liking scars seems a difficult concept,” she merely responded.

“Oh? How so?”

“I do not wish for such an awful thing to have happened to you,” Elain pushed a few things around on her plate, “But, and maybe it’s terrible of me, I can’t deny that I think your scar makes you look indefinitely more handsome.”

That…he was not expecting,

“Oh?” He husked after a second. Elain paused her eating to meet him dead in the eye.

“You look magical,” was all she said, and Lucien felt his heart shudder. “Like everything I shouldn’t want…but everything that I ultimately do….”

A heavy silence fell between them, both of them pausing in their eating as they made eye contact. It was almost as though now that they had kissed, the pre-existing tension was now insufferable.

As Lucien looked at her, the world fell away, and he was utterly consumed by the sight of her. Again, all he could think about were the things he wanted to do with her. Images flooded his mind, of taking her up against the wall, of spreading her on this table. He was aching just to feel her skin against his, to feel her warmth and to hear her sighs. He wanted nothing more than to hike up her endless skirts and find purchase in her folds. The idea of slipping a finger into her had his pants uncomfortably tight.

“Spring?” Elain said, breaking Lucien’s chain of thought and causing his mind to temporarily stutter.

“Spring – oh – spring, yes,” Lucien took a long drink, “I’m leaving to head to Spring, and I’d like for you to join me.”

“I’d love to,” she said without hesitation. Lucien merely grinned at her as he nodded, turning back to his food.

“You’ll like spring, I just know it.”

***

It was a vision, or a dream.

The experience was familiar by this point – the feeling of the world being tangible and yet distant, as though everything were real but you, as the viewer, were merely a ghost. Elain could feel her presence there in the world, taking up a certain kind of space, and yet she felt forgotten by the atoms themselves.

It was a dark room, cold with the overwhelming air of loneliness. Elain could see walls made of wood and stone with windows up high near the ceiling which allowed columns of moonlight to pass through. These bands of silver shadows gave way to very little. There were some general shapes of furniture, wooden chairs and bookshelves, but the large stone columns that ran the length of the room and made everything seem smaller and more complicated.

She was sitting in a rather uncomfortable chair, and before her was a stone pillar that had been cut in half so that it came to her waist. It seemed to be an altar, and two beams of moonlight met from opposite sides of the room to light it up, the stone almost glowing. Upon the rocky surface was a single copper pin which, upon further inspection, Elain recognised as a hairpin.

Footsteps made her jerk with shock, the first sign of life in the seemingly dead building. The steps came from behind and echoed through the empty room, ringing back into her ears. Elain went to turn around but found that her body would not obey her, whether this was due to it being a vision or the fact she had been bound, she could not tell.

The footsteps neared in a slow, torturous pace that was full of cockiness – a person who knew they had power. Elain could only sit and listen as they approached, eyes roving over the room, trying to take in all that she could see.

Eventually, the being came to a stop directly behind her and Elain felt the thrumming magic that came from their presence. The magic’s strength washed over her like a fog, and it felt strangely familiar.

“As I was saying,” the being spoke. The voice was low, deeper than any Elain had heard before, even the Illyrians did not compare.

“The mind, particularly one like yours, is a weapon. It simply begs to be sharped…wielded…” The voice spoke with the casual certainty of an aged teacher. Elain, for some reason, was still focused on the hairpin. It was old, older than her and older than any building she’d ever stepped foot in – she suspected it was even older than Prythian.

“You have no idea what you can do, and it’s so frustrating to see the way peasants of this world have treated you.”

Elain’s mind was running a mile a minute. This could not be a dream then; it must be a vision – an insight of what was to come. But where was she? Who was this person? How did she get here and how would she get out?

“They’ve taught you so many terribly inaccurate things, much of our time together will be spent undoing the poisoned seeds they sowed.” Elain didn’t know who this ‘they’ was that the voice spoke of, but his voice had somehow turned even more deadly and frightening at their mention.

Elain then heard the dragging of wood on stone before there was the clatter of a chair being settled behind her to which she heard the being flop into with a gust of wind – or rather, dust.

It was then that hands came around her and ran from her upper arms down to her hands.

Looking down, Elain saw skin of truest grey with white scars that were reminiscent of lightning covering every inch of exposed skin. The being’s arms were powerful, around three times the size of Elain’s now seemingly dainty, pale hands. The being then wrapped his own hands around hers, his chest pressing into her back. He then tucked his head into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply.

“Your mind is not broken, Elain,” the being whispered in her ear. His voice now dark, seductive, full of a thousand promises she knew he’d do good on. “I often wonder how you must feel, to go from feeling so worthless to discovering you’re the most valuable being to exist, perhaps ever.” Another deep inhale paused the creature in his speech. “When the world discovers just who you are, there will be people carving themselves up in the streets for a single hair from your head. They will make relics of your clothes. Holidays out of your achievements.”

The hands began to intertwine with hers, grey meeting ivory, twisting like a wreath.

“A part of you has always known.” He was amused, and she felt his lips brush against the shell of her ear. “You knew you there was something so much bigger than any of them running through your blood, that’s why you let them play without you, why you stayed in the gardens where no one could worry. But you’re more powerful than that silly little High Lord of stars and his mutant wife – your sister, of course. The only one who ever came close was that other sister of yours, Lady Death, though she foolishly bargained her gift, she will come to reject that choice, though, you already knew that.”

Elain did. Nesta would never admit to herself, but Elain had seen Nesta glaring at the mirror, wondering how much of a mutant she was to wish she’d kept the flames of ice. Because getting rid of her powers hadn’t gotten rid of the shadow of death that had marred her since birth. In the end, Nesta had run from the darkest part of herself rather than harnessing it.

“I won’t let you make the same mistake.” His voice was abruptly inside her head, a painful invasion, a reminder of what he could do and what he could take. His hands unentwined from her own and those long fingers wrapped themselves around her wrists. Elain only watched as his large, grey hands formed perfect cuffs around her now dainty wrists, and he squeezed with a threatening promise. She was manacled.

Elain went to beg him to stop but then the rush of power hit and she felt her head loll against his shoulder, her mouth parting as a wanton moan tore from her lips. The magic was ecstasy, a pure rush of power and possibility. Elain could feel it courses through her blood, pounding around her body turning her skin alive and electric – just like he had.

The thought of him caused Elain to struggle against the magic but the figure only tightened his grip. Elain could taste his annoyance in the air.

“What is it you want?” It was the first thing she’d said, and to Elain’s surprise, her voice was steady, calm, entirely satiated. The magic continued to course through her, lighting her up from within. It was beautiful, and it was so, so cursed.

The being’s lips returned to her ear, and she felt his tongue once more trace the shape, as though he were trying to memorise her. He stiffened behind her, his entire figure turning rigid as his grip on her wrists turned excruciating.

“I want him dead.” The voice was deadly, cruel, otherworldly – familiar.

Pain exploded within her in the form of black fire.

***

Elain lurched awake, her hands slamming into her chest as she tried to extinguish the fire within. It took several moments of her thrashing in her vacant sheets before she realised that it had not been real – or, at least not tangible.

The black fire she had felt was phantom, a ghost of pain that had brushed through her body via her mind. That…had not felt like a vision. Or, perhaps, she merely not understand the capacity of her powers.

It had felt so real. She had been there, in that dark room looking at that hairpin as that being had taunted her. It had not felt so much of a vision as an invasion. It had felt as though someone had poured something foreign into her brain and she’d temporarily been infected.

Elain shuddered and was up and out of bed before she could think of somewhere to go or something to do. There was a whispering in her mind, a murmuring of a name that she dare not think, and she strongly wished for silence.

But, as it so often did, her mind betrayed her as she went back to the ‘vision’. She hadn’t been afraid of him – the being with grey, mottled skin – as much as she was afraid of the things he had said. The simple statements of her power to which he believed her to have plenty.

More power than Rhysand, more than Feyre. Then there were the visions of Nesta, regretting her choice, regretting saving Feyre, Rhysand and Nyx and giving up her powers. None of it made sense, none of it worked in the world that she thought she knew.

Shivering, Elain blinked to realise that she’d walked over to her closet and pulled out Lucien’s jacket. It was not the one he had given her last night when he had cocooned her in his riding jacket before carrying her to bed. Instead, his one was a deep green with brown lining. There were seven pockets in total, all of them empty bar the one that had contained several flower heads that had long since dried and turned to dust – they had been yellow carnations. The lining was of silk, not just any silk Elain realised, but Didache, the fabric from Autumn. It was fraying at the seams which told her it had been worn lots, loved much, and yet the owner had not cared enough about the jacket or themself to fix it. There was a distressing along the cuffs in which Elain could imagine worried fingers constantly curling and plucking at the seams.

It was the jacket Elain had been wrapped in after the Cauldron, and it was perhaps her only tether to the world those first few days after. Nothing could get through to her, not the angry screams of her sister or the comforting talks from her brother-in-law. Just this rag of fabric that smelt like a home Elain had never been to.

He’d been with her even then, Elain supposed.

It’s funny, she thought, even when I was completely lost, I always had him.

Tugging the jacket on, Elain was able to return to her sheets and curl up into a ball. Around her hung both the scent of him and her. His jacket having been worn by her on many sleepless nights.

The scent wasn’t just his or hers, it was theirs.

Rolling onto her side Elain took what she had seen and pushed it to the back of her mind, imaging herself locking the thought away in a box and burying it under sand. With every spade, the memory receded until her brain was quiet enough for her to slip soundlessly into sleep.

In this distance, under the moon, a firebird screamed in agony.

[hxlyhead-harpies]

Tendency to Lead Some People On (S.B.)

Requested: Yes

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Allusions to sex and abuse

Title from: Dive by Ed Sheeran

The thing about falling in love was that it was never quite like how people described it. The act was nothing like the plays or the books said, and it was certainly nothing like the songs. It didn’t feel like flying or a freefall, it felt like jumping off the highest spire of the castle. There was nothing freeing about it either; your heart was suddenly caged in your ribs, longing to beat for someone who could never know. There was nothing beautiful or sweet about the act of falling in love with the one person you couldn’t have. 

Sirius black walked around the castle with a feigned arrogance only a few could see through. Every step of his was reckless and unplanned, a storm raging through the stone corridors. His childhood had left him hurt and broken, but also wild and untempered. In an effort to disguise the fact that he always felt too much or too little, he became cavalier and at times, pompous. 

Those who had the privilege of knowing Sirius Black through more than shouts in the hallways and pranks in the Great Hall knew that there was more to him.

He was incredibly insecure, needing constant reassurance that he was enough. He lived each moment of his life, waiting for someone to leave him. He flinched when voices were raised and when someone moved too suddenly and he woke up from nightmares drenched in sweat. He was incredibly loyal, almost to a fault, and had tender eyes that could read his friends perfectly.

You had the pleasure of knowing the complexities of Sirius Black, having met your first year on the train. You were privy to his deepest thoughts and feelings and stroked your hands through his long locks when he got letters from home. With his head in your lap and his hand clutching your thigh as if you might disappear if he let go, he would whisper to you. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His whispers always sent a warm feeling through your chest. The act of feeling needed always made you feel light and fuzzy and made your cheeks flush. But your body would become cold again soon.

“You’re my best friend,” he’d murmur soon after. He didn’t need you the way you needed him and he didn’t love you the way that you loved him. But you’d still sit with him until he fell asleep.

Sirius walked through the halls every day with a new bird or beau on his arm. He loved the attention, something he lacked severely growing up, and letting go of his inhibitions. For Sirius, hookups were fun, feelingless, and a way to forget who he was for a while. It may have been an unhealthy coping mechanism, but that didn’t stop him from coming back to his dorm in the middle of the night after crawling out of another stranger’s room.

Every hand wrapped around his bicep felt like a punch to your gut and every flirty smile he sent to others made your head hurt. His romantic advances were never aimed at you. For you, he reserved brotherly shoulder pats and mussing up your hair. 

You were sitting by the black lake, Sirius once again in your arms. He was crying, his tears darkening your jumper. He clutched the fabric between his fingers as his body wracked with sobs. You silently rubbed his back and waited for the crying to subside so that you could talk. He always needed a good cry before he could divulge his reasons for such despair. 

Eventually, his body stilled and he let out a sniffle. His hold on your sweater loosened and he moved into a sitting position. He faced you but still looked down, fiddling with the grass at his knees. You grabbed his hand. 

“Sirius,” you whispered, “are you ready to talk?” He sighed. 

“I’m off the tapestry,” he said quietly. You blinked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“They burned me off of the family tapestry. I’m no longer a Black,” he explained, his voice wavering. 

“Oh, Sirius,” you breathed. 

“It’s fine. I didn’t want to be part of that bigoted lot anyways,” he muttered darkly, pulling his hand from yours. 

“Hey,” you said, making another grab for his hand. “You’re allowed to be sad. As terrible as they are, they still raised you. It can’t be easy letting go of that. Personally, I’m glad you’re not a Black anymore; it’ll be harder for them to hurt you now. But I understand if you feel at least a little bit sad.” He allowed you to hold his hand as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

“They said that I’m a disgrace. That I’m nobody,” he said, his voice breaking. You sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed his fingers. 

“That couldn’t be farther from the truth,” you said. He looked up at you with his doleful puppy eyes, tears brimming at the edges. Your heart practically shattered at the sight. 

“You’re brave and you’re kind. You’re fighting on the right side of the war and you’re a better person than your parents could ever be. They think you’re a disgrace because you didn’t conform to their narrow-minded plan for you. That’s why you’re in Gryffindor, Sirius. So you can be better than who they wanted you to be. So you can be who you want to be,” you said firmly, trying to make him believe you. 

Sirius gave you an indecipherable look. “I’m not as good as you think I am,” he muttered. 

“Yes you are!” you pleaded, “I wish you could see how amazing you are.” You tentatively reached up to touch his face and wiped his tears. Surprisingly, he leaned into your touch. It was more intimate than any other touch between the two of you had ever been before. 

“You’re perfect,” you whispered under your breath, hoping that somehow you’d get through to him. He reached up to his face and placed his hand over yours. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he said quietly. You smiled but internally braced yourself for the words that always broke your heart. But instead, Sirius mumbled a quiet “I love you”.

You jerked your hand away, your eyes widening in shock. You stared at him, searching his face for any sign that it was a cruel joke. With your heart pounding against your rib you scooted away, your hand coming to cover your mouth. Sirius raked a hand through his hair and groaned. 

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that! We can pretend this never happened, I swear,” he said. He moved his arm as is to reach for your hand but stopped himself. You remained silent and unmoving. 

“Yell, scream, cry, please, just say something, anything,” he begged. You moved your mouth to speak but no words came out. You thought back to every person you caught him kissing in empty classrooms. If he loved you as he said, why had he chased so many others? Just this morning he had snogged a girl behind a pillar. How was what he said possibly true? 

“Why are you lying to me?” you whispered finally. He closed his eyes tightly. 

“I’m not lying to you, I promise,” he sighed. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

“How do I know I’m not just another one of your conquests?” you asked harshly. He shook his head wildly. 

“You’re not! You’re so much more than that for me. You always have been,” he replied. You shook your head and looked away. 

“I have watched you chase after every person in Hogwarts except for me. I have watched you kiss girls you barely know and flirt with any boy who indicates that he might be into you. For years I have sat by and watched you flirt your way through the entire school. How the hell am I supposed to know that I’m any different?” Sirius’s face crumpled at your words. 

“I didn’t know how to tell you! I always thought that you’d hate me and leave! I never imagined that you’d feel the same. Everyone else was just distractions! Distractions from you!” he was practically yelling now, begging you to believe him. You looked down at your hands. 

“You really hurt me, Sirius,” you said, “But you want to know the worst part? Even after all of that, I’m still in love with you.” Sirius let out a breath, a smile slowly filling his face. 

“You love me?” he asked, as always, needing reassurance. You met his grey eyes. 

“How could I not?” you replied. Sirius tackled you in a hug, pressing you close against him. One of his hands was against your lower back, the other cradling the back of your head. 

You could feel his heart beating against his ribcage in the same fashion as yours, your hearts finally only beating for each other.

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

Taglist: 

@durmstrange​ @theweasleysredhair​ @spn-marvel-nerd​ @gloryekaterina​ @bellaacunaa​ @mytreec​ @levylovegood​ @inglourious-imagines​ @whatwoulddracodo​ @pattinsons-films​ @birdie-writes​ @gcdric​

[byunbaekby]

title — the following pairing — demon!haechan x female reader, slight jaemin x reader featuring — jaemin as reader’s roommate and crush word count — 6.9k  genres — horror, angst warnings — language, religious concepts in accordance to demons and angels, mentions of murder, psychological and physical torture, elements of haunting, choking, degradation in a nonsexual context (donghyuck often refers to y/n as feeble or unintelligent), minor character death  inspiration — monster by red velvet

“under a single light, why are there two shadows?” “i’m a little monster, be scared of me / i’ll bother you by making you only dream of me.” “see i’m just playing, no bad intentions / try to come out of the dream but monster lives forever.”

author’s message — for the #neohalloween event hosted by @nct-writers​. this is my first time ever writing something of this genre, so i’m very excited and nervous to put this forward. thank you to @give-seconds​ for proof reading this and making it 100x better! much love ♡

also, this entire scenario is loosely generated from a superstition in hmong culture that you shouldn’t pick up anything you find laying around in public, for you might bring home something else with you. 

“Y/N? Is something wrong? Why are you calling me?” 

Your roommate’s voice rings clear on the opposite side of the line. Though you’re shivering as a result of the cold, barren winter air, you try to get a response past your shaking lips. “I-I’m walking home, Jaem. Can you… can you stay on the phone with me?” 

“Oh.” He immediately gets it; it’s never safe for a young woman to walk home alone, especially not in your neighborhood. “Of course… Where are you?”

You turn into the shortcut, your feet meeting the soft, pliable ground. The cemetery; it’s probably the worst shortcut you could ever take, but it cuts your walk home in half. “The cemetery…”

“Again? I told you that you should stop cutting through there, it’s not safe.”

You register his words in your ear as you eye a black bird resting atop a gravestone, peering at you with bright eyes. Casting your sight away from it, your teeth bite down on your bottom lip, roseate tier captured beneath the sharp incisor. “Walking down the street at this time isn’t safe either. At least here there’s nobody else around.” 

Jaemin sighs on the other side. “Even worse, anyone hanging out in a cemetery at…” He pauses, likely to glance at his watch. “10:28 PM, is probably going to be weirder than someone you find out on the street on a Friday night.”

“Hey!” You tell him, clutching your bag close to you. “I’m a person hanging out in a cemetery at 10:28 PM.” 

“My point exactly.” 

You roll your eyes, a laugh leaving you, but you’re glad for Jaemin’s teasing. It helps get your mind off the fact that the hill you walk past casts a dark shadow over the path. As you walk past, engulfed in what seems to be the darkest area of the entire graveyard, you attempt to make easy conversation with your roommate to get it off your mind. 

“Did you eat dinner already?” You ask him, voice low as if someone were listening. Who knows, someone might be. 

Jaemin easily sees through what you’re attempting to do, but he follows along anyway because he’s nice. “I did. I tried to wait for you, but you took too long.”

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “Time passed by me in the library.”

“I know. Like damn, you should really lay off the studying sometimes and have fun.” 

“I know, I know. You tell me, Renjun tells me, Professor Kim even—woah!”

You drop to the floor, the air flying out of your chest and dissipating into nothingness as you fall forward onto your chest. All the contents of your bag spill out, along with your phone, which lies a few feet away on the dirt. 

Groan escaping your lips, you look down at your white jeans. Completely stained and covered in dirt. Damn.

“Y/N? Hello? Y/N, you there?”

You can hear Jaemin’s muffled worried tone from where you are, but you focus on gathering your things from your bag first before you grab the phone. In the darkness of the night, you can’t even see everything, you just hope you manage to grab everything. It would definitely be your worst nightmare if you lost your Calculus homework due on Monday to the graveyard because you hadn’t grabbed it. 

When you finally return everything to your bag, you press the phone to your ear. “Hey, sorry, I tripped.” 

“You had me worried there! I was about to run out there myself,” nags Jaemin, and you can see in your mind the way his dark eyebrows must be furrowed in distaste. 

“Sorry Jaem,” you apologize to him as you scurry down the path, ready to be free of the cemetery’s unsettling aura as soon as possible. “Please tell me you saved me some food, I’m starving...”

-

He feels it when you walk in. He senses the irrefutable change in the air, smells your delectable scent with his sharpness. His grave sits at the very top of the largest hill, giving him the perfect place to watch you from. The cemetery becomes alive with your entrance. 

Ironic, isn’t it?

Sitting rather stylishly with his thin, gauntly body atop his gravestone, Donghyuck watches you with sharp, focused eyes. You’re so pretty. He smirks, observing the way you flutter through the graveyard, feet barely touching the ground in your feeble attempt to escape the ominous lot as soon as possible. 

“Walking down the street at this time isn’t safe either. At least here there’s nobody else around.” 

That’s where you’re wrong.

The dark demon can hardly keep the devilish grin off his tiers, watching you. Beautiful, you are.

He’s seen you a few times, in the handful of times you’ve dared to cut through the cemetery on your way home. With an amused, almost teasing shake of his head, he tsks. “Bad decision, little lamb.”

“Did you eat dinner already?” You ask whoever you’re speaking to on the phone. Donghyuck can barely remember what human food tastes like. As a demon, he doesn’t eat humans, let alone get hungry, but if he had a choice, you’d definitely be his first choice.

Your soul is good. He wants it.

If he can’t have you, at least he can play with you a little. 

It doesn’t take much. The moment you glide through the path and under the darkness of his hill, all it takes is the slightest snap of his fingers to send you flying forward. He’d love to make you stay down there, perhaps drag you down below with him, but that would be no fun. 

Rather, he plucks off one of his rings, one of the many decorating his hands for absolutely no one to see, and tosses it seamlessly into the pile of your things spilled across the path. As he watches the way you carelessly shove everything back into your bag, his Cheshire grin grows even wider. Now, he has a reason to leave. 

As you scurry away, Donghyuck jumps off his grave which he had occupied for decades, and lands on his feet. With a wipe of his hands on his jeans, he watches you go. 

“Stupid little lamb. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to take things that aren’t yours?”

The rest of the walk home, you can swear there are steps behind you matching yours.

-

When you get home, you quickly slide into your bedroom amid Jaemin’s nagging sounds and slip off your white (well, brown now) jeans from your legs. After getting on some more comfortable clothes, you grab your dirtied jeans and make your way to the bathroom. 

The restroom, however small, still has room for a washer and dryer, which you’re thankful for, seeing as you and Jaemin don’t have to pay a laundromat for your weekly laundry. You toss your jeans in the washer; normally you wouldn’t wash just one garment, but the dirt would likely stain your perfectly white jeans. After pressing start you make your way to the kitchen, where your roommate is reheating dinner for you. 

The image of Jaemin’s broad back standing at the stove makes you smile to yourself for just a millisecond, so quick that it’s fleeting. Before you can take another moment to admire your roommate however, he turns to you with his trademark smile. “Hey, pick a movie. Let’s watch something.” 

About fifteen minutes later, you’re eating your leftovers on the couch, Jaemin’s arm spread over your shoulders while the beginning scenes of The Conjuring play. You don’t have much, the apartment barely enough for the two of you to inhabit, and Jaemin is only your roommate, but you’ve gotten used to these kinds of nights. Simple, easy, sweet.

The light remainder of Jaemin’s daily cologne mixed in with his gentle cotton scent pervades into your senses, and you lean your head onto his shoulder with a smile. You’ve always wanted to be more with Jaemin, but you could settle for these comfortable nights of movies and platonic cuddling. 

It’s something about having a full belly, Jaemin’s warmth, and the everlasting light traces of his scent that has you falling asleep, eyes drooping closed slowly into a peaceful suspension of consciousness. 

-

I.

You wake the first morning. 

You don’t even remember falling asleep, but it doesn’t surprise you when you wake up in bed. Recently you’ve developed a habit of falling asleep on movie nights, and Jaemin is always kind enough to place you gently back in your room. 

Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you let out an unearthly sound as you sit up and stretch your arms above your head. When you unsheath the blanket from your legs, your unprepared toes meet the cold wooden floor, causing you to flutter across the room quickly and into the living area. 

It’s Saturday, but Jaemin volunteers at the hospital on Saturdays, so you only prepare a bowl of cereal for yourself. If your roommate were here, he’d probably scold you for the lack of nutrition, so you toss a couple of berries into your frosted flakes. 

After you finish up, washing your bowl at the sink, your eyes widen in realization; you left your jeans in the washer! Falling asleep mid-movie had caused you to completely forget about them, not drying them before you slept like you had told yourself. God, they probably stink by now, sitting wet for hours. 

But when you slide open the door to the bathroom, you see your jeans resting atop the drying machine, folded neatly like they had been waiting for you. Perhaps they were. 

Ah, you realize, mouth parting just the slightest. Jaemin must have dried them and folded them before he left for the hospital this morning. Another grateful smile spreads across your visage; you really do have the best roommate. 

You spend the rest of the day studying, and prepare a nice dinner (which also means going grocery shopping) for Jaemin, as a little thank you for always being so thoughtful. He appreciates it when he comes home to a fully cooked meal, and there’s something about the way he smiles that has you feeling as though you’ve finally done something good to amount to all the times he’s saved your ass as a roommate. When the night ends, you both retire to your rooms. 

In your lovesick daze, you fail to recognize that under the single lighting of your room, there are two shadows. 

-

VII.

On the seventh day, Donghyuck’s displeasure is enough to choke him—that is, if he needed to breathe.

He had wanted to tease you, follow you home and play with you a little before revealing himself. But God, you are so dumb; he should have expected as much from a feeble, stupid little sheep anyways. 

That first night, testing the waters, he had done your damn laundry for you. It was just a little fun, to get the ball rolling. Any superstitious person would have known. And what did you do? You had thought it to be your roommate. As the days went by, his teasing grew in quantity and intensity; hiding your keys, ripping apart your essays, perhaps all the menial and annoying things that some stupid schoolboy would do to grab the attention of a girl he liked. But your attention is lost, and he is not a stupid schoolboy. No, he is far from it. 

Even as his antics have built up throughout the following days, you always found some excuse to play it off; you must be more clever than he thought. No, you weren’t; you were either extremely clumsy and forgetful, or you were simply denying his existence. It’s time to make himself known. 

-

VIII.

It’s the eighth night when he appears in your dreams. No, not he. It.

You can sense it, the moment your suspension of consciousness becomes overtaken by him and you find yourself in a simple black room. It seems to extend in every which direction, as though you could run off in any given direction and never hit a wall. But you feel it watching you.

He’s behind your shoulder, and the moment his low, amused chuckle is heard in your ears you swipe around to face him, eyes wide. He’s beautiful; dark brown hair, smooth skin, a captivating honey color, and dark eyes. 

Those eyes.

They pierce into your soul, as though they can see right through you. They probably can. He is not a person, you know. He is… more. 

Dark eyes once overtaken with curiosity are now characterized by bleak amusement. Your breath hitches, and his voice comes out low. “Welcome.” 

“What is this? Where am I?” Your voice comes out rapidly, shaking. You know nothing of this… thing before you but you can’t help but feel unsafe under its gaze. 

“Now, that’s not very nice. I am very much a person, not an it,” he smirks beneath the shadow which casts itself upon his visage. You freeze; he can hear your thoughts.

This realization only further widens the Cheshire grin across his lips, and instinctively you take a step back further into the black nothingness. “G-Get out of my head,” you threaten to no avail.

The same mocking laugh leaves his lips. “Sweetheart, this is your head. This entire place is of your making. If you hate it so much,” he says, and suddenly he’s in front of you. His hand leaves the pockets of his black bottoms, lithe digits suddenly cupping your chin and tilting it upward so you are staring right into his dark empty orbs which come to life with the image of you. His fingers, dressed in various shades of gold rings, grip you. You should feel his warmth on your skin, you should feel the radiating human heat that you so often feel with Jaemin. 

“Erase me from it.” 

But you don’t feel anything behind his callused skin, and that’s what scares you the most. 

Your throat runs dry and when he parts his lips, even his breath is cold. “But you’re scared.” When you fail to respond, he licks his lips, and his next words are characterized by sarcastic rancor. “What’s wrong? There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Unless…” At this point, under his burning gaze that contrasts the ice-cold emptiness against your skin, your knees begin to buckle. The smile which accompanies his next words, revealing his pearly whites and perhaps his intentions, is sinister: “You’re not afraid of demons… are you?”

-

IX.

You wake in a cold sweat, and you’re more aware of Jaemin’s soothing voice telling you to breathe than the fact that you’re not breathing. Chest heaving and eyes wide, you search for something in Jaemin’s eyes to tether you back to earth, back to reality.

He’s not real, he’s not real. He can’t hurt you. 

It was just a dream.

“Hey, hey,” Jaemin calls out to you, hands on your shoulders to steady you from your previous thrashing. You had awoken him with your screaming. “You okay? Breathe, Y/N, just,” he takes a pause to take a deep breath, silently instructing you to follow with him. “Breathe.” In a few moments, when your breathing pattern has begun to return to normal, steady breaths, he asks again, voice dripping with nothing but pure concern for you, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod. It’s the first word you’ve spoken, so your voice comes out scratched and you’re reminded just how much air you need to actually speak coherently. “It was just… a bad dream.”

“Sounded a lot worse than a bad dream…” He responds, taking his respectful hands off of you and tucking them into the loose pockets of his fleece pajama bottoms. An image flashes before your eyes: that… person, hands tucked leisurely into their pockets, ominous smile enough to make you wonder what they were hiding in there. 

You blink, closing your eyes tightly and shaking your head, as though it could shake the image from your mind. When you open them once more, Jaemin is still standing next to your bed. “I’m okay, I promise,” you tell him, though it feels more as though you’re speaking to yourself. “Thanks.”

“Any time,” responds your roommate, who offers you a reassuring smile and another worried look before slipping out of your bedroom. When you’re finally alone, you bring a hand up to your forehead, where sweat has made your skin clammy and sticky. 

You’re warm. He is not.

-

XII.

“You’re a demon.”

You say this on the twelfth night, finding yourself once again stranded in the same dark and endless room with the sharp-eyed devil. This time, there are two chairs and the two of you sit facing each other. He sits as though he has all the time in the world, and perhaps he does. Legs crossed leisurely and arms over his chest with his head tilted at you, he stares. 

With your tense posture in your own chair, you wonder fleetingly how enough light exists in this black room that you can never seem to avoid staring at his mocking facial expression. You gulp, gripping onto nothing as you tighten your fists to prevent them from trembling. He’s not real, you have to remind yourself. 

“When did you figure that out, little lamb? When I told you, probably?” His tone is insulting, as though you were stupid. You narrow your eyes, biting the flesh inside your cheek. 

“Aw,” he coos, grinning at you with dark beguilement. “You’re frustrated.”

“Duh, I’m frustrated,” you huff, blowing some air from your mouth to push away a strand of hair that has fallen into your face. “You keep bringing me here with no jurisdiction or knowledge of who you are.”

“Fine,” he acquiesces. “Three questions. Don’t make them stupid, though I know that’s hard for an incompetent human like yourself.” 

“What do you want from me?” 

“I haven’t quite figured that out yet. Next question. I’ll even be nice enough to abstain that as a question,” he responds, as though he’s doing you a favor. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“Being a demon is rather boring, you see. Not here, not there.” He waves his hand around, as though pointing to heaven and its counterpart. “I found you, and you intrigued me.”

He leans forward, resting his chin in his palm. “Or rather, you found me. You invited me in.” 

“I never did that,” you reply, indignant. 

“But you did.” A dark eyebrow raises at you, and you bite down on your lip to prevent your anger from rising. “You never checked your bag, did you? Never found a gold ring, maybe?” He lifts his chin off of his palm, stretching out his fingers as though they were cramped. “Maybe one with DH engraved in it.” 

You had. You had found the ring in your bag on Saturday and had figured it to be one of your own negligible accessories, tossing it into your jewelry box. Had there been letters engraved on it? 

At the look on your face, a smile spreads across his features. “So you do remember.” 

Despite the umbrage bubbling in your stomach, perhaps more feisty than you should be in the presence of a self-proclaimed demon, you have another question. Leaning forward just the slightest you ask, “Why haven’t you hurt me? Isn’t that what demons do?”

There’s a glint in his eye, and the easy-going expression on his face is quickly replaced by a darkened simper. “Do you want me to hurt you?” 

Your fists tighten again. “N-No…”

“Don’t tempt me.” His voice is dark now, his earlier lilted tone now descending into a deep pit. It’s almost demanding, as though he’s daring you to push his buttons and send him plummeting into a torturous rage. At the look of fear that swipes across your face, he chuckles once more. “Relax, little lamb. I’m just playing, no bad intentions here.” 

You don’t believe him, not even for a second. If he’s really what he says he is… why does he torture you in this way, making you only dream of him? You push the thoughts from your mind, knowing that he has full access to your brain. “What’s your name?” 

“Now you’re asking the good questions. You may call me…”

The corner of his lips tug upward into a smirk.

“Donghyuck.” 

-

XIII.

The titles should shock you more than they do.

University Student Pleads Guilty to Murder of Three Female Students

College Killer: More Murders Revealed In Trial of Lee Donghyuck

Lee Donghyuck, Murderer of At Least Thirteen Victims, Sentenced To Death Penalty

He’s real. 

It’s Friday night again, and you find yourself back at the library. Except this time, it’s not calculus nor world history that you are pondering. It’s not your psychology textbook that you are poured over. 

No, the archives are open, and all it took was a little keyword into the filter to find just what you’re searching for. The only word you needed: Donghyuck.

He hadn’t been lying. Not about his identity or his demonic status. 

When you read over the headlines and their accompanying stories, you don’t realize the way your pupils begin to shake, or the way that your heartbeat begins to accelerate as the truth dawns upon you. 

He is real, he is dangerous, and he is haunting you. 

-

XIV. 

“So you know who I am.” It’s less of a question, more of a statement. Tonight, there is only one chair and you are sitting in it as Donghyuck walks circles around you. There are no chains, no straps to hold you down to the chair but you cannot move. Despite what he had told you the first night, that this is all your dream and that you have the ability to change anything, the opposite seems true. 

He disappears behind you, and suddenly his voice is in your ear. Your breath hitches at the sudden gust of cold air on your sensitive skin as he speaks. “Are you afraid?” 

“No.” 

“You forget I’m in your head, sweetheart. I know everything, so don’t lie to me.” 

He’s caught you.

You say nothing, and so he stands straight and makes himself present in your vision again. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s in your feeble nature.” His finger starts at your hand, bringing a chill down your spine. As he drags it slowly up the scope of your exposed arm, you hardly resist the instinct to shiver. “I just want to know, what are you afraid of?”

“Is it…” he speaks softly, teasingly throwing each word in your ear, like tossing small bites to a starved dog. “That I know each of your thoughts the moment you think it, and you only know my name? That I’m a dark spirit and can bring you enough pain to make you forget your name with just a snap of my fingers?”

His trailing hand, once tracing over the curve of your clavicle, suddenly grips your neck. Though only a light pressure is applied, you feel the wind knocked out of you by his sudden, unforeseen movement. “Or is it that because of me, sixteen women died and you might end up the same?”

With the little air you have left, you manage to squeeze out, “They said thirteen.”

Amusement shows on his visage before he finally lets your throat go, and you heave as you attempt to refill your lungs with air. “No,” he corrects, moving back to his original space, circling you like a shark locking its prey in uncharted waters. “They said at least thirteen. They never found the other three.” 

The thought is enough to make you sick, but before you can manage to swallow down the bile attempting to rise up your throat, he speaks. “Don’t worry about them too much, my little lamb. You’ll join them soon.” 

“You’re lying,” you spit out. “You keep threatening me, but you’re all talk and no proof. You can’t do anything to me, that’s why you only bother me in my dreams.” 

Your sudden and unexpected quip seems to, rather than upset him, entertain him. “You think I can’t do anything to you outside of this box? Funny,” he scoffs, though he still maintains that grin on his lips. “Humans are so cocky, I learned that after they killed me.” 

He stops pacing, and instead kneels before you, his face placed before yours. “I’ve done things, sweetheart. Remember the pants? The essay you spent five hours on torn up the morning after you printed it out? How about the dress you bought that I cut up until there was nothing left but shreds? You got really mad at your friend for quote-unquote, ‘pranking’ you.”

But Donghyuck is nothing if not honest. You’ve learned this. 

“But on some level, you’re right.” His hand reaches up once more, but instead of resting it on your shoulder again, he gently caresses your cheek. It would be soft, romantic in any other case. But no, his touch makes your skin crawl. “I can’t hurt you, and I don’t know why. Don’t worry, I want to, but outside this dream…” His hand stops, and grips your chin instead. “I physically can’t. Tell me why?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“You have a cross on you somewhere, little lamb? Or, a guardian angel?”

“I said I don’t know,” you repeat, voice louder as you turn your head sharply, ripping your chin from his grasp. In your ear, he tsks. 

Now you’ve done it. 

“Getting too comfortable, aren’t we? You’re forgetting who’s in charge here,” he says, voice dipping into dangerous territory as he reaches forward, gripping your throat once more. But this time, he digs his nails into the softness of your skin, and your choked scream is caught in your throat by his hands before it can ever leave. 

-

“Y/N! Y/N, wake up!” 

Jaemin’s voice is the only thing carrying you back to sanity, and when you finally force your eyes open he’s before you, gripping your arms once again to prevent you from thrashing about. “It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream,” he coos out in worry as you finally come to. 

Your hand immediately flies to your neck which is, to your relief, not at all sore. The moment your eyes fall on him and you realize that the hand around your neck is no more, you fall into a bout of tears. Instinctively, your roommate holds you to his chest in a protective hug whilst you sob into his chest.

It’s not real, it’s not real. You keep telling yourself this like a mantra in your head as Jaemin rubs your head soothingly. But why does it feel so real?

“It’s okay,” Jaemin continues telling you, voice soft as his sweet familiar scent pervades your senses once again and your tense muscles begin to relax. 

Minutes pass before you’ve calmed down, outright sobs now quiet whimpers. Jaemin begins to set you down back into bed, but you grab at his wrist before he can set you down. “What, what is it?” He asks, eyes immediately scanning your body for any sign of distress.

“Can you… can you stay with me?” It’s a large request, perhaps much too intrusive for someone who is supposed to just be your roommate. But lately, Jaemin feels… much more. Every night as you’ve been plagued by Donghyuck’s presence in your haunting nightmares, he has come to save you when you’re falling apart in screams.

He feels like a friend, and a… a protector. 

Not at all fazed by your sudden request, Jaemin wears an abiding smile and nods. “Of course,” he says, sliding into your bed whilst you move over to make room for him. You feel much safer with him around, and now with him in your bed, your personal dreamcatcher, you naturally find yourself in his arms once more while you drift away into sleep, Donghyuck’s presence no longer occupying your dreams. 

Neither of you take the time or attention to look, for if you had you would have seen, in the corner of the room furthest from the window, where the darkened corner seems to extend into an infinite world of black, Donghyuck looking less than pleased. 

Your roommate needs to be handled.

-

XXI.

Something seemed to have changed that night when Jaemin first slipped into your bed. You have since not dreamed of Donghyuck even once, and you definitely do not miss him. Perhaps he is gone for good. 

How stupid of you to think so, even knowing what Donghyuck is capable of. Perhaps you never truly knew, not before now, just how powerful he is, or just what kind of chaos he can incite. 

It’s 3 PM on the twenty-first day when you finally find out just how evil he is.

Jaemin is in the hospital. 

You had gotten the call on the bus ride home from campus; your roommate, jokes and boyish smiles for all the time you’ve known him, had been hit by a car just outside your apartment building. Now, he is in the hospital with broken ribs and a herniated disk, barely holding on for his life in a coma. 

You’re not allowed in his room, but you do catch a glimpse of your roommate when his physician enters, and just the sliver of him that you see is enough to make you turn your head away. 

You know who is responsible for this. 

-

The door to your bedroom is thrown open, and before you can recognize the emptiness of the apartment without Jaemin’s presence around, you’re screaming into the void. 

“I know you’re listening, you dick! Show yourself, fucking coward!” 

The obscenities that leave your mouth seem to do the trick because before you can register it, you’re on the floor. As though the carpet is pulled out from under you, you go flying forward and the wind is knocked out of you as you meet the ground chest first. 

You don’t have any time to breathe or recover, as immediately there is a force pulling you up by the shirt, and suddenly you’re no longer standing on the ground. 

You see him.

You’ve seen him before, of course. He’s appeared in your dreams enough to have his sinister expression sewed in your thoughts at all hours of the day. But now… now he looks stronger. Less pale and more colorful. Even the aura which exudes from him… is more dangerous than ever. 

Yet, he still wears that shit-eating smile on his lips as he watches you float in the air, collar squeezing at your throat and looking completely powerless. “Now, little lamb, those are not very nice words,” Donghyuck chastises as he approaches you. When he’s finally before you once more, he twitches his eyebrow upward just the slightest. “Missed me?”

“Not at all,” you manage, gathering the spit in your mouth to chuck it out at him. 

Not even fazed, he simply wipes at the spit on his face, flicking it off in a negligible direction. “I’m not feeling welcomed,” he comments. 

“Because you’re not,” you retort, thrashing about to no avail. “What did you do to Jaemin?”

The mention of your now critical roommate only makes his grin grow wider. “You see, sweetheart, I thought you’d be pretty proud of me. I found out what was keeping me from being able to inflict any real damage on you,” he says whilst his cold hand comes out to squeeze at your cheeks. “Your guardian angel has been taken care of.” 

Wait, what? Then it dawns on you.

Jaemin is… your guardian angel.

“You look surprised. That’s okay, I didn’t know either.” Donghyuck releases your face, instead choosing to pace left and right before you, though he never lets his eyes leave you. “But then he started sleeping with you, and I couldn’t get into your mind. I put two and two together. With him around, I’d never be able to touch you.” 

The glint in his eyes turns feral. “And you have an embarrassing school girl crush on him, so I was able to kill two birds with one stone. With every second that passes, his life is draining away, and I’m only getting stronger.” 

“Why are you doing this?” You cry out once again, though your voice is more desperate than it had been the first time around. “What do you want?”

“You see, I figured that out too.” His mocking tone begins to seep away and is instead replaced by that familiar dark timbre of his as he approaches you once more, gripping your chin again in his fingers. Tilting your head up harshly, he stares endlessly into you and whispers, “I thought I was done with those petty murders, that the sight of women begging at my knees like dirt for mercy wouldn’t excite me as much anymore. But no… I want you to suffer. I want to destroy you, take away your happiness, and break you piece by piece, until you’re just begging for me to take you out of your misery.” The semblance of a smirk quirks at his lips. “Just like those other girls. Except this time, there’s no limit to what I can do. And when you do die, I’ll be right here to welcome you back.” 

Tears sting your eyes at the horrible things he whispers to you, but you refuse to capitulate to him. “I’d rather die than do anything you say.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be dead just as soon. The fun hasn’t even started yet,” he teases. Suddenly, it’s as if the paranormal restraints on your limbs are cut free, as your body immediately falls to the floor, collecting in a pile. You hardly have the energy to lift your head, but you register the sound of Donghyuck’s voice as he walks away from you. “Rest up tonight, little lamb. You’ve got a long eternity ahead of you.”

Then he’s gone. You swear you will make use of the last twelve hours of your life. 

-

First, you visit Jaemin again. You know you’re not allowed in, but you know his room number and there’s no one coming in to check up on him, you hope. 

You don’t know if he really is your guardian angel, but above that, he is your friend. 

“Hey,” you say softly, making your presence known as you sit down in the chair beside his hospital bed. It’s arbitrary… you know Jaemin doesn’t have parents around, and perhaps that only lends to the possibility that he really is someone sent here to protect you. 

“How are you?” You scoff at yourself. “That’s stupid of me to ask, you’re in a coma. I don’t know if you can hear me, or if you really are an angel, but thank you, Jaemin. For always… always being there for me, protecting me. Walking me through the cemetery, making dinner for me, chasing my nightmares away.”

Sitting there, staring at your friend’s lifeless body laying on the bed looking gray as a sheet, tears begin to sting your eyes. “I’m sorry for bringing you into this, I should have listened to you when you told me to be careful. And if I have to lose someone as amazing and… pure-hearted as you, I don’t think I can live with myself. So please, even if you don’t make it out of here, please… stay by my side.”

As your first tear breaks the barrier and begins to coast down your cheek, you reach out and grab his hand. It’s cold. 

-

XXII.

It’s a little past midnight and though your fingers shake from the cold, you throw everything of yours that he’s touched into the bucket.

Even the things you weren’t completely sure of, you toss away anything that could have been influenced by his dark magic; the leftover shreds of your essay that you had recovered from the recycle, the pieces of fabric that he had obliterated your dress to, the white jeans you had worn that first night, and more. Finally, you throw in that godforsaken ring that had started it all.

You swore that you would never return to the cemetery again, but here you are. This time, you really can see everything at the top of the hill. You turn your head back to glower at the tombstone before you.

Lee Donghyuck.

What a piece of shit. 

Though your fingers shake, you light the match without trouble. When you toss it into the basket of forsaken belongings, it is only a matter of seconds before Donghyuck appears, tethered to his tombstone once more.

Gripping at his body, he snarls out at you, “What the hell are you doing?”

That, you hardly even know. Following only the speculations found on the internet, you had unknowingly lured your monstrous demon back to his home. 

It seems to work, as the greater the fire grows, the more pained Donghyuck’s expression seems to become. 

Your voice finds its strength as you announce your intentions. “Erasing you.” 

“You can’t do that to me, you don’t get to win!” Donghyuck yells in growing anger, reaching out to you but failing. With this inability of his to touch you, you tilt your chin higher, the orange tint of the flames reflecting off your strengthened pride. 

“I believed you all this time, I let you scare me into thinking that you could overpower me. That you could hurt me,” you muse, staring without remorse at his pained form. “But I was wrong. You only exist as long as I let you. You can only hurt me as long as I believe you can.”

“I’ll be back,” declares Donghyuck as the fire roars, only sending him further into a realm of pain. Whilst he grips his limbs in pure fury, you shake your head. 

“No, you won’t. Because you were right, this is my world. I’m the one with the power here: I have blood flowing through me, I have oxygen in my lungs, and I have a soul. You have none of those.” With your anger bursting at the seams, you kick over the metal bucket burning from the inside, instead tossing the trash over the dirt of Donghyuck’s grave. “And because of that, I’m not scared of you.”

As the fire burns out at the final thread, and the spirit which had infested your mind for twenty-two days begins to fade away in a fit of rage, you offer him the same powerful, mocking smile he had tattooed into your mind. 

“Goodbye, Donghyuck. Rest in hell.”

-

CCCLXV.

“Hey, did you do the notes from the last lecture?”

Flipping through your binder, you nod and pull out the said notes, handing them over to the student sitting next to you. At this point, you’ve learned enough about her to know that on Mondays, she always asks for the notes. You’ve started printing extra copies for her. 

It’s been a year. 

You had taken a year off of university to return home. After everything that had happened and Jaemin’s death, you simply couldn’t bear to even step into your old apartment anymore. Over time, you’ve found that you’ve healed and you are no longer afraid.

Not afraid to return to school, at least.

“Here you go,” you tell her as you hand over the notes. “You can keep that copy.”

The look she wears is grateful. “Thanks!” 

“Hey,” calls a voice on your right. “Do you have a pen?”

“Sure, I—” You start, reaching into your pencil bag, but stop when your gaze falls upon the owner of the voice. 

No, it can’t be. It just can’t.

Before you is Donghyuck. Except it’s not. He’s… different. 

His hair is no longer brown, but rather a light shade of blonde that accentuates his honey olive skin tone. Rather than all black, he is dressed in a cream-colored sweater and a pair of light washed ripped jeans. Most strikingly of all, his signature sharp eyes are no longer clouded by dark evil, but are light with the sweet smile that he wears on his lips.

No… it’s not Donghyuck. After your return home, you had begun to see his face everywhere, and have since learned to distinguish between reality and trauma. When the stranger catches you staring, he tilts his head, smile growing further. “I’m Haechan.”

Shaking your head slightly to clear the thoughts, you go back to searching for a pen in your bag. “Uh, hi Haechan. Here you go,” you say as you hand the pen over to him.

When your fingers brush just the slightest, he’s cold. 

You pull your hand back quickly, as though you had been burned. No, you tell yourself. It’s cold in here, the air conditioning is always on in the lecture hall. Turning back to face forward in your seat, you try to calm your breathing, pulling your cardigan closer to cover you. The stranger next to you pulls out a notebook from his bag, and in full view, begins to write in the corner. 

Your professor is speaking, clicking on his projector, when Haechan slides his notebook over to you. There, written in perfect handwriting…

I told you I’d be back.

[bakugoukatsukiswife]

Buy Your Love

A/N: So this is me ATTEMPTING to write about having sex with Hawks on a fancy ass yacht.. like everyone is thirsting over right now because of that move ‘365 Days’. Personally, I didn’t like the movie at all but the boat scene had me feeling some way cause I was picturing Hawks the whole time. I really wanted to some good smut with Hawks on a boat and HOPEFULLY I did it justice. Idk I kind of feel like I need a cold shower after this so maybe I did good? ALSO I dropped in some Yagami Yato nicknames she does with Hawks, I couldn’t resist. Anyways, enjoy babes!!

Warnings: Hair pulling, spanking, spitting, name calling, dirty talk. Pure smut. 18+. 

Words: 2K

To say that you were dating the number two hero Keigo Tamaki, otherwise known as Hawks, was complicated to determine. He would wine and dine you, take you out for scenic flights at night in Japan, make you feel as if you were the only girl in the world. He was smooth with his words, they flowed off his tongue like honey, sweet and enticing to you while his looks were an added bonus. He knew that he was a charmer, he tried his hardest to make you fall for him in the few months you had known him; but you knew you were nothing special to him, you were just another prize to be won in his eyes. 

Of course you were, or else you wouldn’t have been given a magazine article by a concerned coworker talking about Hawks and his new ‘girlfriend’ who had gone on a getaway trip recently. It shouldn’t matter, right? You and Hawks weren’t a thing, it’s not like anything would ever happen between you two anyway. 

Work had tired you out, you had just gotten out of the shower and you were about to head to bed when you heard a tapping on your balcony window. You sighed as you opened the curtain, meeting eyes with Hawks as he waved at you before you opened the sliding door, allowing him to step in. 

“Hey there, baby bird. How was your day?” Hawks asked as he came toward you, mouth twitching downward slightly when you stepped away a bit. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your other lady friend?” You questioned him, daring to look up at his face despite the loud pounding of your heart flooding your ears. Hawks quirked a brow at you, his head tilting slightly as he caught sight of the magazine on your dresser before he let out a slight chuckle. 

“You’re really going to believe those trashy articles? The hero agency tasked me with keeping an eye on her cause she was a witness in an important case. That’s all that was,” Hawks said, rubbing at his face and you felt guilt encase your heart since you could tell he was being honest. Your heart started to pick up the pace when Hawks’ wings brushed against your back and you realized just how close Hawks really was when he leaned down, his golden-brown eyes serious. 

“Besides, there’s no one else I want. You should know this by now, songbird.” Hawks said, the nickname he gave you sending shivers through you. He gently ran his knuckles across your cheek, chuckling. “It’s cute when you’re jealous though,” Hawks said and you bristled at his accusation. 

“I’m not jealous! Why would I be jealous?” You asked, crossing your arms as you looked away from Keigo. All he responded with was a chuckle before pulling you closer to him with his wings, making color rise to your face. 

“Want to come with me somewhere fun?” Hawks asked, a playful tone to his voice and you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Where?” You asked and Hawks tsked. 

“Yes or no?” He asked, his eyes hopeful and you sighed. 

“Yes,” You answered, and Hawks pulled you close to him before taking off into the night. You clutched tightly to him as he headed towards the ocean and you could see a very big, luxurious yacht on the water. You looked up to look at Hawks and noticed that he had a smirk on his face but before you could say anything to him, he landed perfectly on the deck of the boat. 

“Keigo… what is this? This isn’t your yacht is it?” You asked Hawks as he set you down and he feigned a look of hurt as he touched his chest. 

“Hey I know I joke, but I make bank too, you know. I am the number two hero.” Hawks said as he watched you walk around the deck, taking in the massive boat. You turned to look back at him and he smiled. “Look, I know you’ve been stressed with work and stuff lately so I thought we could have a small vacation getaway on the ocean. I bought you some clothes and swimsuits so you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing,” Hawks admitted as a blush rose to his cheeks at the way you looked at him with the biggest smile on your face. 

“Oh? So this is the fun you were talking about?” You questioned as you came closer to him, eyebrow raised in question. 

“Of course, I wanted you to have a stress free week.” Hawks answered simply and you let out an exhale of breath. 

“Alright, give me the grand tour then.” You said, and Hawks happily accepted. He showed you the massive den, that had fully leather sofas and chairs with a flat screen TV, the jacuzzi on the front deck as well the bar that occupied the deck too. There were too many rooms to count by the end of it, and Hawks led you to the master bedroom that was fit for a king. Which you guess in Hawks’ case, he kind of was one. 

“So this is where you’ll be sleeping,” Hawks said, and you felt your heart clench at the notice he gave you of you both not sleeping in the same room. Yes, you and Hawks had a complex relationship, but you hadn’t slept with him or anything like that yet. It’s not like you were inexperienced or anything, you just didn’t understand why he wanted you of all people. What was so special about you? You felt your legs hit the bed and you fell back, snapping out of your gaze when you realized that Keigo was now hovering above you, his hands on either side of your head as he looked down at you with a small smirk. 

“Now, now baby bird… I thought this was supposed to be a stress free week, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Hawks asked and you felt your breath catch at how close he was, his breath hitting your face, his fingers threading through your hair that was on the bed. “Do you want to sleep with me that bad?” 

“N-no. It’s nothing,” you managed to stutter out and Hawks rolled his eyes slightly. Being in this position with Hawks was starting to become too much for you, you were excited to be here, to be with him. To forget about everything for a while, to just soak in his presence that made you feel like you were the only person in the world, that you were actually important to him. But were you? Was he just trying to buy you, buy your feelings? The longer you thought about it, you started to feel anger course through your veins and Hawks noticed that you had a different look in your eyes. 

“Keigo…” You started and he stopped his teasing, knowing that you were serious whenever you said his actual name. “Are you… are you trying to buy me? My feelings, I mean.” You managed to say and Hawks leaned back to fully look at you. 

“(Y/N)... of course I’m not.” Hawks said and your heart fluttered at the way your name left his lips. That was the first time he had called you by your name, he normally always called you ‘baby bird’, ‘songbird’, or ‘baby girl’. “You make me the happiest I’ve been in a very long time. I… like you a lot, and when I like something, I can go a little overboard with my affections. Being a pro hero has its perks, and I just like to spoil you. You’re the only one I’ve ever cared for this much, so it’s pretty new to me. I-.” Hawks was cut off when your lips met his, his hand automatically tangling in your hair. Your tongue came out to brush against his bottom lip and you heard him moan, his hand tightening in your hair while his other hand gripped at the sheets before he found the willpower to pull away. 

“Wait, (Y/N). Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked sincerely and your heart warmed at the way he looked down at you, his golden eyes dark with lust but you could tell he was holding back, for your sake. 

“Of course, Keigo,” you said and he smiled before leaning back in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. 

“Buckle up, baby bird. I’m going to have so much fun with you,” Hawks mumbled against your lips and you felt a shiver run through you at his words. Hawks hooked his fingers in your jeans before shimming them down, placing you further on the bed before removing your underwear as well and you watched as his eyes lit up at the sight before him. “You look good enough to eat. In fact, I may just take a bite,” Hawks said before diving straight into your cunt, his tongue licking a stripe up to your clit before he nibbled at it with his teeth. A moan escaped your mouth as your hands found his hair, your legs going to rest on his shoulders as Hawks sucked at your essence. 

“God, you taste so fucking good,” Hawks groaned, golden eyes looking up at you as your back arched at his tongue develing deep into your folds. He chuckled slightly, the vibrations sending chills through you as Hawks pulled you closer to him, his hands gripping at your thighs. You felt him pause and you looked down to see that he was making sure you were watching him before he pursed his lips, his saliva dripping down onto your clit as he inserted a finger inside you, causing you to tug at his hair as a whine left your lips. You moved your hips slightly, hearing Hawks let out a chuckle as you continued to try and fuck yourself on his finger. 

“You want my cock that badly, baby girl? You want me to fuck you with my cock, make you scream my fucking name as you cum for me?” He teased and you could only nod, too embarrassed to say it outloud, but Hawks tsked. 

“Yes or no?” 

“Yes! Please Keigo! I want you to fuck me, I need you to fuck me so badly. I need your cock inside me,” you begged and you felt as Hawks removed his finger, hearing as his belt unbuckled before the soft thud of his jeans hit the floor. Hawks gave himself a few pumps as he licked your juices off his other hand before he slowly inserted himself into you, a slow string of curses leaving his mouth as he let you adjust to his length. Let’s just say that Hawks had big dick energy, and rightly so. 

“Shit, you feel so fucking good. So fucking tight for me,” Hawks said, his voice low as he started to move, his cock brushing against your walls perfectly as you let out a moan. 

“Keigo…” you moan out, pleasure coursing through your veins at the way that Hawks was grunting in your ear, his hand tangled in your hair as his thrusts picked up the pace. 

“Yeah, say my name (Y/N). I love the way you say my name, shit.” Hawks said, his teeth biting at the supple skin of your neck. His tongue came out to soothe the red marks now on you as he continued to thrust into you, heavy breathing filling the room as Hawks’ thumb ran across your bottom lip, his golden eyes staring down at you. “Open your mouth,” he commanded and you did so without hesitation. He pursed his lips again like earlier and spit into your mouth, his thrusts never slowing down as he took hold of your jaw with his thumb, index and pointer finger. 

“You like that? Dirty girl,” Hawks said and you felt heat rush through you at his words, his dirty talking and the way that he was hitting against your g-spot causing you to come dangerously close to releasing. “Are you about to cum? Cum for me, cum all over this cock.” 

Like he willed it, you came all over him with a loud moan, your pussy fluttering against his cock and you could hear Hawk grit his teeth as his hips stuttered against yours. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming.” Hawks said before his seed filled you up, dripping a bit onto the sheets. He slowly settled down on top of you, still inside of you as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Keigo?” You started, hearing as he let out a ‘hmmm?’. You slowly flipped over until you were on top of him, taking in the way that his chest moved up and down as he regained his breath, the way that his skin was glistening from the sweat he had worked up, taking in his body that seemed to have been molded by the gods themselves. You took in the way that his golden eyes drank you in, his hands on your hips as he licked at his lips. You leaned in close to him, inhaling sharply when his hips moved upwards slightly. 

“I didn’t want us to be done,” you admitted against his lips before moving your hips against his, his moans sounding like music to your ears. You moved your hips faster, relishing in the way that Hawks slapped your ass as he brought your lips to his. You moaned at the way that he bit down at your lip, sucking at it slightly as he brought another slap to your ass. 

“You look great riding my cock. This may be my new favorite position, kid.” Hawks said teasingly and you felt another shudder run through you at the way his voice dropped as his eyes took you in. His hands gripped at your hips, fingers digging into the skin as you rocked back and forth as a moan left your mouth at the way that his cock dragged against your walls deliciously. You felt as he moved his hips against yours, his pubic bone giving you friction against your clit. The equal friction caused your head to fall to the side as your tongue lolled out, the pleasure overwhelming you as you came for a second time, crying out Hawks’ name as he held you steady while you rode out your orgasm. Hawks thrust into you with a growl, spilling his seed into you for a second time before you laid down on him, head against his chest as you listened to his heartbeat. 

“Get some sleep, baby bird. We have plenty of time on this boat,” Hawks said as he placed a kiss on your temple as his hands ran through your hair. 

Needless to say, you guys broke in the jacuzzi and made sure to ‘sunbathe’ on the deck the next day.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic prompt: lxc pretends to be lwj. For a day? To fool... somebody? For fun?

…just run away.

Lan Xichen was not often given to bad moods. On the contrary, he had always been praised for having a sunny outlook and a pleasant demeanor, and it had become something he prided himself on. He preferred to greet people with a smile; even when he was insulted, he preferred to let it roll off his back, knowing it would never harm him. It was very hard for mere words to affect him – to get under his skin.

Unfortunately, irritating words appeared to be the one area in which Nie Huaisang excelled.

Nie Huaisang had come to Gusu for help with a problem at the most inconvenient moment, sobbing his heart as he always did, and Lan Xichen had had to send a letter to Jin Guangyao explaining that he would likely be unable to make their appointment as a result. It had been especially annoying because he’d hoped to use the opportunity to give Jin Guangyao a book for his birthday, which Lan Xichen would be forced to miss the date this year due to certain responsibilities at his sect; he’d mentioned in his letter that he would ask Lan Wangji, now more than a year out of his ‘seclusion’, to bring the book instead.

He hadn’t expected Lan Wangji to refuse outright to even consider going to Lanling.

Still, none of that was enough to seriously bring him down, and his mood cheered up even more when he realized that Nie Huaisang’s problem, which had been held out as the sort of sobbing, gasping, threatening to die type of problem, was in fact easily solved. That in turn meant that, if he hurried, he would likely be able to make to his appointment with Jin Guangyao – a few shichen late, yes, but it was better than not going at all.

He’d just been finishing up tea with Nie Huaisang, thinking happily about what a surprise his unexpected appearance would be for his sworn brother, when Nie Huaisang had said –

That.

Lan Xichen didn’t even remember how the conversation had gotten to that point, only that Nie Huaisang had been laughing, face bright and happy, when he’d said it.

“I wish I was more like er-ge, not concerned of what other people think; I take you as my role model! It would be so much nicer to think that whenever I encountered any serious problems, I would just run away!”

Just run away.

The words were like a thorn under his skin.

“What makes you say that?” he’d asked, fighting and failing to maintain his smile, not that Nie Huaisang noticed.

“Well, isn’t that what you always do?” Nie Huaisang asked, his eyes wide and innocent; he was still a child, even after years of sitting in the sect master’s seat. “You ran away after the Cloud Recesses to save the books, you ran from one place to another during the war, you ran away when da-ge died –”

Nie Huaisang had been sitting in Nie Mingjue’s favorite place, wearing clothing that looked just like Nie Mingjue’s, drinking from the tea cup that Nie Mingjue had liked, and he’d said that.

Lan Xichen had gone to get help, to find medicine, to do something. He hadn’t run away.

It wasn’t – it wasn’t running, during the war. He’d been a courier, taking news from one place to another; the Lan sect had been rallied to war very effectively by Lan Wangji, and he hadn’t wanted to step on his brother’s glory. It had been useful, necessary…

He had run away when the Cloud Recesses burned, though. He hadn’t wanted to, but his uncle had begged him to prioritize the saving of their sect’s most fundamental treasures.

Maybe that’s why it bothered him so much.

Nie Huaisang had moved on shortly thereafter, nattering about his birds; he hadn’t even noticed how effectively his words had stabbed Lan Xichen – but that was Nie Huaisang in a nutshell, wasn’t it?

Lan Xichen had taken his leave shortly thereafter and headed to Lanling, but it was still bothering him.

He kept going back to it, turning it over and over again in his mind, indignation warring with guilt; as a result, he wasn’t smiling the way he typically did when he landed at the entrance to Koi Tower.

It was also why he didn’t notice at first that people had started calling out “Lan-er-gongzi” to him instead of addressing him as Sect Leader Lan or Zewu-jun, just absent-mindedly nodding at them as he swept past the gateway and headed inside on paths he knew well.

He was already halfway to his destination when he realized – they thought he was Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji, who’d already developed a reputation for having, and this was a direct quote Lan Xichen had overheard, “a bitter facial expression that made him look as though his wife had passed away.”

(Lan Xichen hadn’t liked hearing that. It was all the worse because it was true.)

It wasn’t actually funny – Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji looked alike, yes, but not that much – but at this point Lan Xichen was so desperate to think of something other than Nie Huaisang’s irritating words (just run away) that he seized on it at once, deliberately arranging his face in something a little like Lan Wangji’s cold-faced glare.

It was childish of him, of course. But wouldn’t it be even more of a surprise for Jin Guangyao, to come in with a resigned polite expression (he’d never understood why Lan Wangji so disliked him) and then to find the person he’d actually hoped to see? It would make him smile, and Lan Xichen could give him the book in person and apologize yet again for missing his birthday…

Yes, it would be perfect. Jin Guangyao’s joy would be the ideal balm for Lan Xichen’s unexpectedly hurt feelings.

Lan Xichen felt positively mischievous, even a little wicked. He hadn’t played a prank on anyone in years, certainly before the war started –

(Just run away.)

He wasn’t going to think about that.

Lan Xichen made it to the Fragrant Palace – it had been years now that it belonged to Jin Guangyao, since he had taken the place of sect leader, and yet it still seemed as though it were his ‘new’ quarters – and nodded to one of the door guards, announcing, “I will wait for Lianfeng-zun inside,” in a way he would never have done if he weren’t pretending to be Lan Wangji.

Of course, once inside, he found himself with a dilemma: the Fragrant Palace was a classic building, full of servants and Jin sect cultivators, any one of which could catch Lan Xichen in an unguarded moment and ruin the whole surprise. If only there was a better place to hide…

The bronze mirror in the corner caught Lan Xichen’s eye and he pressed his lips together to hide his amusement. He couldn’t do that.

Hiding in another sect leader’s treasure room would be offensive, after all, a trespass – though Jin Guangyao was always saying that Lan Xichen was welcome anywhere he was. And he could do it; after all, it had been he himself who had taught Jin Guangyao the trick of how to enter…no, he shouldn’t.

A high-pitched voice travelled through the hallway, and Lan Xichen abruptly remember that Jin Guangyao wasn’t the only person with free access to the Fragrant Palace – his wife, Qin Su, was equally the mistress here, and worst of all it seemed like she was heading straight towards the room he was in.

(It wasn’t that Lan Xichen didn’t like Qin Su – it was that she didn’t like him, her smile fading a little every time she saw him. He couldn’t hold it against her: it had been to Lan Xichen that Jin Guangyao had turned for comfort after the death of their child, not his wife, and Lan Xichen had indulged his sworn brother in his grief when he should have reminded him not to leave his wife to grieve alone. Lan Xichen was a painful reminder of that painful time, now, and he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to see him.)

Jin Guangyao would understand and forgive a small trespass, Lan Xichen decided. It would be easier to explain a little thing like that than to have deal with the fallout of making Qin Su cry again.

The mirror worked the way it always did, and he stepped through –

There was a blank period in Lan Xichen’s memories after that.

It was as if his brain had simply stopped working, refusing to accept the evidence his eyes were presenting him with. The sight filling his eyes, the smell filling his nose even through the scented incense that filled the treasure room, the feeling in his fingers as he lifted them to touch the cheek he remembered so well –

By the time the haze that had fallen upon him had lifted, Lan Xichen was far away from Lanling.

He wasn’t sure where he was – he vaguely recalled, as if remembering the actions of another person, that he had staggered out of the treasure room and gone to the window, leaping onto Shuoyue and flying straight out of Lanling in violation of all prohibitions on using a sword within city limits.

He hadn’t had a direction to his chaotic flight, he’d only been desperate to –

To run away.

I’ll do what er-ge does, and just run away – isn’t that what you always do?

He was still clutching Nie Mingjue’s head in his arms.

His da-ge, his friend – he should have been buried safely in Qinghe. Under Nie Huaisang’s lax supervision, yes, but still, he should be there. Not – not in pieces.

Not in Lanling, like some sort of sick trophy.

Trophy.

A-Yao, his A-Yao, he’d – was it just grave-robbing? Some sort of perverse triumph over Nie Mingjue, who had only ever wanted the best for him even if he were not very good at showing it? After all, Nie Mingjue had died of a qi deviation, in public, there could be no question…

He’d died in Lanling.

He’d been speaking to Jin Guangyao before he died, and his final rage had been aimed at him, and –

And Jin Guangyao liked to keep trophies.

Lan Xichen had always known this, of course, but it had been little things: wanting to pin up a flag from a battle he’d helped win, keeping letters of old correspondences, things like that. Not – not like this.

Lan Xichen’s mind was rebelling against him.

His A-Yao – Nie Mingjue was his sworn brother. He couldn’t have –

He could.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know all the things Jin Guangyao had done, after all. It was only that he’d always believed that there was a reason behind them, some justification that made sense.

Just run away. Isn’t that what you always do?

Nie Huaisang’s innocent words had been right. Lan Xichen ran away: from the facts, from the truth. He blinded himself because he didn’t want to believe it.

He couldn’t run away this time.

Nie Mingjue’s head is in his arms, but Lan XIchen can feel the pulse of resentful energy already – his sworn brother had died a violent death, betrayed by someone he should have been able to trust; there was no soul-calming ritual in the world that would keep him from becoming a fierce ghost. The head was already straining in his arms, as if seeking to fly off, seeking –

The other pieces.

Nie Mingjue’s soul was still there, divided into pieces and bound; Lan Xichen recognized the horrific array that had been painted on him. It was vile, ghastly, an abomination.

It called for an answer.

No, there would be no running away this time.

At least Jin Guangyao would have no choice but to confront Lan Xichen this time, now that he knew that Lan Xichen knew –

Lan Xichen’s entire body gave a sudden start, and a chill filled his heart.

He didn’t know.

Jin Guangyao – Lan Xichen had been pretending to be Lan Wangji, hadn’t he? He’d hidden Shuoyue’s hilt, he’d mimicked his brother’s expression, he’d wanted to give Jin Guangyao a surprise…

Jin Guangyao, who Lan Wangji had never liked and who had never especially liked Lan Wangji in turn, would have no reason to think Lan Xichen knew.

He would think Lan Wangji knew.

And after all, they had comforted each other over the death of one brother – why not another?

Lan Xichen had put Lan Wangji into terrible danger.

He had to find his brother.

He had to find him right now.

[basicallywhiterice]

on top of the world (dong sicheng/winwin)

pairing: sicheng/winwin x reader

genre: angst, fluff, flangst. friends to lovers, highschool!au, dancer!sicheng, spring break trip

summary: The fall to the ground doesn’t seem so daunting when you’re living on top of the world.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: cussing

a/n: if enough people get mad at me i’ll write a part 2

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

this can be read as a standalone, but it is part 1 in the on top of the world series. crossposted on ao3 here!

Chinatown, Washington, D.C., 7:01 p.m.

“Honest Abe? More like, honest babe,” Lucas hollers to Kun and no one in particular, drawing a few disgruntled looks from the pedestrians waiting for the walk signal to flash again. He winks at a man in a navy suit, who rolls his eyes and looks away. Yangyang reaches over for a high-five.

“Dude was 6′ 4″, of course he’s a babe,” Sicheng whistles, leaning behind Yangyang and craning his neck to steal glances at Kun’s phone.

To your right, Ningning flits around, snapping pictures of the street displays and assorted neon lights on the storefronts. You watch her alongside Giselle, who pops her bubblegum, periodically glancing at the traffic light at the bustling intersection. Standing shoulder to shoulder with you to your left, Kun rattles off a hodge-podge of facts about Abraham Lincoln and Ford’s Theatre, which you just passed by, from his phone screen to a faux-enthused Yangyang, who shakes Sicheng by the shoulders every time Kun reads a new fact. He occasionally gets pushed into Lucas’s side, rolling his eyes while doing little to hide the growing grin on his face.

“... and apparently they planned his assassination in the building the Wok n’ Roll restaurant we passed used to be,” Kun remarks.

“OH MY GOD SICHENG ISN’T THAT SO CRAZY?” Yangyang all but screams. “IT WAS IN THE WOK N’ ROLL!”

As you glance over fondly, your eyes linger on the orange hues and kaleidoscopic shadows the nearby “do not walk” signal spills over Sicheng’s face. After a moment, he looks away from Yangyang’s exaggerated bouncing. His gaze flits upwards, meeting your stolen glance with his own.

The world grinds to a halt beneath your feet when a strong gust of wind blows through your hair, propelling you into free fall into the depths of his eyes until Giselle tugs on your arm, pulling you back into the present.

She gestures toward the “walk” signal on the traffic light, and you fall in line with her quick footsteps as you stride across the crosswalk.

“We should go there later,” she suggests. “Try summoning Lincoln’s ghost or something.”

“The Wok n’ Roll?”

“Yeah. Do you think his ghost would have his top hat?”

“I thought ghosts were just spirits and didn’t take material possessions with them?”

“Yeah, but then every ghost would be naked, which would be hella inappropriate.”

Ningning overhears, skipping up to you and looping her arm through yours. “You have to prove the existence of ghosts and take them out to dinner before you get them naked, you pig.”

“I made yo momma sound like a ghost last night,” Lucas quips. “I skipped the ‘getting dinner’ part, though.”

“Goddamn,” Giselle exclaims as you burst into laughter, throwing jokes and jabs at each other for the rest of the trek to the ramen restaurant where you eat dinner.

Hilton Garden Inn, Washington, D.C., 9:13 p.m.

After helping Giselle and Ningning unpack, you knock on the communicating door between your hotel room and the boys’ in order to bother Kun.

Sicheng answers, moving aside so you can step across. Their room is surprisingly clean, although you chalk it up to the limited amount of time they had to unpack earlier today. Lucas sits at the desk in the corner near the window, hunched over his laptop while Yangyang peeks over his shoulder. You glimpse a few pictures of the Washington Monument on his screen before he scrolls down to other marble structures.

“Are you looking up other places to visit?” you ask him.

He glances up, cracking his neck before responding. “Yeah. I can’t find anything special that we don’t know about, though.”

“It’s boutta be lit,” Yanyang chimes in.

“Ayeee,” Lucas responds. They start aggressively patting each other on the back and arms, and you take that as your cue to leave before they wrestle you into whatever weird ritual they’re performing.

Turning, you see Sicheng flop down onto the bed closest to the windows where Kun lays, sprawled out. “Hey,” Kun greets, lifting his head from his pillows.

“Hey,” you reply, remembering the reason why you came to the room in the first place. “Oh yeah! I found a stop sign a few blocks from here on a decently busy street. It’ll take ten minutes to go there and back, tops.”

He groans. “I would love to go, but I just got a stomachache. Tell you what. Sicheng,” he says, propping himself up at a snail’s pace and clasping Sicheng’s shoulder, “you can accompany her there, right?”

“To a stop sign?” Sicheng asks, looking up from his phone.

“A hand-picked, top tier, magnificent stop sign,” you proclaim. “Whenever me and Kun travel, we always get a random passerby to take our picture in front of a stop sign like it’s a tourist attraction. Are you down for potential social awkwardness?”

The corner of Sicheng’s lips tugs up into a grin. “You know it. I’m not ruining your tradition with Kun, am I?” he asks, glancing sideways at Kun for confirmation.

Kun flops back down on the bed. “Nah. If I went right now, I’d probably ruin the tradition by shitting my pants there or something.”

Sicheng chuckles. “Promise? We could print out those pictures and mail them back to your parents like a postcard.”

“I like the way you think,” you say with a scheming smile, nodding at Sicheng before turning back to Kun. “Anyways, drink some warm water to help with your stomachache, maybe? What do you think caused it?”

He shrugs. “Not sure. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten that trashcan pizza slice in the subway.” Sicheng reaches over and flicks his forehead. “Ow! I’m kidding! Why would you torment a sick man like this? Go away and take your pictures already.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you ask as Sicheng asks, “You sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. Worst comes to worst, I’ll take a Pepto-Bismol in fifteen minutes. Go and have fun.” He waves you off, grabbing a spare pillow and lightly smacking Sicheng with it.

“Fine, mom.” Sicheng stands, pocketing his phone. “You ready? I just need to put on my shoes.”

“Yeah.” As he walks over to the closet, you sneak a peek at your reflection through your phone screen. Fighting back a sudden bundle of nerves, you discreetly smooth your t-shirt down, running a hand through your hair. Kun wiggles his eyebrows when he notices, and you flip him off, silently warning him to stay quiet.

He doesn’t. “Have fun on your date with loverboy,” he whispers.

“Shut up.”

“After you leave, should I check out the pool?” he murmurs. “Lucas and Yangyang said they don’t feel like swimming tonight.”

“What, isn’t your stomach—”

“Oh my, would you look at the time? Off you go!” He shoos you away, almost standing up to push you away and laying back down before Sicheng can turn around. You’re almost impressed by how well he set you up.

Still, though. If Kun weren’t your best friend, you’d shove him into the hotel’s fountain.

H Street Northwest, Washington D.C., 9:40 p.m.

Half an hour later, you give up on the facade of collecting anti-tourist pictures after the third stop sign, stopping by the Chinatown Express to grab a bowl of noodles with roast duck to go. You walk for a few blocks before finding a bench to sit and split it at, slurping them up in an appreciative silence.

“Oh my god,” Sicheng intones around a mouthful of noodles. When you look over, his cheeks are puffed, an empty spoon descending to rest inside the soup container.

“You look like one of those baby birds eating scraps,” you giggle.

“I’m certainly skilled with chicks,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, then scoot closer to pick up a piece of roast duck. Your knees touch, but neither of you move away. “Do you think there’s a more advanced form of life than humans, like aliens, and they view us how we view animals?” you ask, resuming the conversation you had about the meaning of life before you sat down. “Like we don’t think birds could become self-aware, no matter how intelligent they are, so then we can’t achieve the alien version of self-awareness no matter how philosophical we get.”

“Good question. Uh, alien self-awareness would probably relate to the meaning of life or something, right? Or the secrets of the universe and breaking the laws of physics. And because they’re so big brained, they could control things with their minds and be enlightened with telekinesis. So hypothetically, if I were a wise, sagely alien,” he says, gently picking up your hand and laying it flat against his palm, “I could make my hand pass through yours if I had enough brainpower.”

His hand is warm, and you hope furiously that your palms aren’t sweating. “Was this another excuse to hold my hand?”

“Well, did it work?”

You raise your eyebrows and fail at biting back your smile. “You already know, you just want to hear me say it.”

He grins. “Then say it!”

“Yes, Sicheng, it worked.”

“Awesome.” He moves his right hand to pick up his spoon, briefly tugging your hand with him until he realizes. “Fuck. Sorry, I have to let go of your hand while I eat. Unless you wanna see me struggle with my left hand.”

“As much as I’d love to watch you do that, I feel like that’d be an insult to the rest of the noodles.”

When you finally remember to stand up and throw away the long-forgotten remnants of your food, he holds your hand carefully but firmly as you walk past the White House, and you imagine his hold on your heart must feel the same.

Lafayette Square, Washington, D.C., 11:16 p.m.

“Dance with me,” Sicheng pleads, pulling you under a streetlight. You nod, but your feet stay cemented on the brick-paved sidewalk.

“I don’t know how to.”

“That’s fine.” You place your hand in his outstretched one, and he lifts your other hand to rest on his shoulder. “No one’s around to judge, so just do whatever.”

“Wise words,” you deadpan, but you let his hand on your waist guide your swaying.

He’s right, though. After the initial awkwardness fades, you find that waltzing around isn’t so bad after all—especially when he twirls you around the pocket of light underneath the lamppost so gently it feels like you’re dancing on air.

And when he dips you as you throw your head back, laughing, you think you finally understand why his eyes light up every time he finishes a dance performance.

“Is this what you love about dancing?” you ask once you’ve come back up.

He nods, eyes closing briefly. “Partly. The grand choreographies are the showstoppers, but the simpler moments keep me sane.” His eyes flutter open. “I haven’t let anyone see me dance with such bad technique in a while. I’m usually not this bad, I promise.”

“I know,” you grin. “I saw you at the winter showcase. You were amazing.” Then you take a deep breath, and brace for the worst. “The lyrical piece you closed with was the one you used for your audition, right?”

“Yeah, I—yeah.”

Abruptly, he releases your hands and steps back. You allow yourself to feel a twinge of guilt for mentioning the elephant in the room before you steel yourself for the impending conversation.

“We should probably talk about that,” he says.

“We should. Do you want to walk around the National Mall? You said you liked it earlier today.”

“Sure.”

The walk is quiet enough for you to overthink. Sicheng got accepted by a dance studio in Korea, after months of submitting auditions and traveling back and forth between countries. He’s leaving soon, even if he says he’s still waiting to hear back from Juilliard and keeping his options open. You see it in the goodbyes he keeps subconsciously saying and the memories he drinks in like it’s his last chance to, and you’re terrified of what your life will look like without him.

You glance over at him periodically, and he seems to be lost in thought too, staring straight ahead down the well-lit path. His eyebrows furrow as you pass under a streetlight, and you wonder if you brought it up the wrong way.

You’re disappointed in the crude way you shoved the future into a perfectly happy moment, then mad that you’re disappointed. It was inevitable that you’d have to talk about what would come after graduation, and it was inevitable that he’d have to remove himself from your side to chase after his dreams. It’s a wonder he hasn’t pulled away already.

Stupid, you chide yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid, loving so hard that your chest implodes from all the weight it carries, already drifting through the pangs of hurt and the wisps of melancholy bringing about a premature nostalgia.

“I’m really going to miss you next year,” Sicheng confesses out of the blue.

You glance up. His hands are shoved into his pants pockets, his eyes roaming over your face like he’s trying to remember all the secrets it hides.

You think you might always run back to him. You’re not sure how to feel about that.

National Mall, Washington, D.C., 11:33 p.m.

“So.”

“So,” you echo. “Have you looked at decisions yet?” It’s a pointless question. You know he’s not going to Juilliard.

“Yeah, I looked at them this afternoon in the theater.” He clears his throat. “I got waitlisted.”

“Ah.”

“I’m not going to accept a spot on the waitlist.”

“Why not?”

He shrugs. “I had made my decision anyway.” Then he sighs, his nonchalant facade dropping for good. “You can probably guess.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m accepting the studio’s offer,” he whispers, as if the air is glass and the moment could shatter at any moment. The words float there, above your head, and you imagine grabbing them and hugging them close to your chest before they slip away.

You don’t. “I figured.”

“Yeah. You knew.”

You stare ahead and will the tears not to fall.

“I’m leaving as soon as school ends,” he says, with the sideways glance that marks the start of his rambling distraction process, “and flying there on—”

“I’m gonna miss you,” you blurt. He pauses mid-sentence. “I’m gonna miss you like crazy. Can we talk about this, for real? You can tell me all the details later, I just—please,” and your voice cracks, “don’t dismiss this.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

A blink, and the first teardrop traces its way down your face.

You waste away the hours of your stolen youth with a boy who wipes your tears away and comforts you over the future that you’ll no longer be a part of.

National Mall, Washington, D.C., 11:57 p.m.

“Before I leave,” Sicheng says, scuffing the heels of his shoes on the gravel pathway, “I know I’d regret it if I didn’t say something. I mean, I’m going to leave anyways, so why not, you know? I have to say something before I’m gone. Um, so, you know this by now, but I… I—” and you already know what’s coming.

“Stop. I know what you’re going to say. Give me a minute to think.”

You make the mistake of glancing up at him, his eyes wide and shining. “Yeah. Alright. Take all the time you need, please.”

In half a year, Sicheng will be gone and you will be left to pick up the pieces of your life that don’t involve him, piecing them together the best you can and carrying on like there isn’t a hole in your heart.

“I’m in love with you.” One thud of your heartbeat. Then another. “Sicheng.”

In half a year, this chance will be long gone, and if you let it slip through your fingers without grabbing on, you’ll never forgive yourself for letting Sicheng become your biggest what-if.

“I’m in love with you too.” He raises his hand to cradle your face in his palm. “Y/n.”

“I’ve wanted to say that for a while now.”

“Me too. It’s not just because I’m leaving, you know.” You nod, his palm momentarily pressing against your cheek. “You knew.”

“Yeah.”

You stare up at him, the boy who wears his heart on his sleeve and holds entire galaxies in his eyes.

“What are we?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“How do you feel about dating?”

You freeze like a deer in headlights. “Dating?”

“Yeah, would you? Like to date me?”

And then Sicheng turns into a what-if again. “I don’t know,” you confess. “I don’t know if I could handle the split.”

“We don’t have to break up when I leave. We could do long distance,” he suggests, but it sounds flimsy even to your ears.

“I don’t know, Sicheng. I don’t want to end up losing you.”

“I know. We don’t have to, especially if you don’t want to.”

You nod once in acknowledgment, and then you’re stepping into his arms again. He holds you securely, stroking your hair and waiting for you to collect your thoughts.

“I wish we had more time,” you whisper into his shoulder an eternity later. “Could we have been doing this earlier?”

“It would’ve been too fast,” he reasons, and you’re inclined to agree. “We didn’t really… not until this year…”

“Yeah.” You’ve known Sicheng for years and have been close with him for months, but you only fell in love with each other when it was too late. “I wish we started hanging out sooner.”

“Maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way.”

“Maybe.”

You pull back enough to glance up at him, gaze dropping to his lips at the close proximity before immediately bringing it back up. His eyes follow the movement, a smile creeping up his face.

“One kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?” he asks, and he says it so earnestly that it’s hard to believe he’d be wrong.

“It wouldn’t,” you agree. His nose bumps with yours and you blink up at him once, twice, and then you’re leaning in until the faraway sounds of the city fade away. He’s purposeful and patient and when all you can think of is the brush of his lips against yours, it’s just you and him against the world.

One kiss might not hurt, but one turns to two and two turns to too many and when you finally pull away and stare into his eyes, dazed, your lips tingle from the ghost of his mouth on yours.

At that moment, the way his mouth slowly stretches into a grin does something to your heart, and you think you’d let it break a million times just to be the cause of his smile.

“Yes, Sicheng. Let’s date.”

He kisses you again, beaming so wide that his teeth knock against your lips and pulling you closer, almost picking you up in the process.

You wonder if you made the wrong decision.

[acciofanfics]

Rule Breaker (Percy Weasley x Reader) SMUT

Request: Hi, I was wondering if you guys could write smut with Percy where both are Gryffindor perfect ( they are on last year in Hogwarts ) and Percy breaks the rules for the first time and they have a first time in prefect bathroom.

Pairing: Percy Weasley x FemReader

Warnings: SMUT, perhaps a bit of language? Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!) and I think that’s it??

Word Count: 1,730

A/N: I hope this isn’t too OOC! I don’t know too much about Percy, but I do hope I did him justice and you like it! Also requests are still open and I am having so much fun writing lately! Also I had a hard time finding a gif...- S

____________________________________________________________

Molly and Arthur rarely left Fred, George, Ron or Ginny alone in the burrow. The first three couldn’t be trusted to not get into some sort of trouble and they were always a little more protective over Ginny (she was the only girl). However, Percy they knew they could trust. He was definitely the responsible one, already a prefect and surely on his way to being Head Boy. No there was no reason they would ever second guess their decision to let him and (Y/N) stay at the burrow while they took Harry and his siblings to do some last minute shopping at Diagon Alley.

(Y/N) and Percy sat comfortably on the older couch. It was nice to have a little alone time, they’d been ‘dating’ since 3rd year and it was a rare occurrence. Between being young and being at Hogwarts there was little time for romance. “It’s so quiet.” Percy commented on the lack of annoyance coming from his siblings.

“It’s a little weird,” (Y/N) giggled, “We could talk or we could....”

Percy leaned across the couch and planted a kiss on her lips. It was innocent at first, as it always was. Something was a bit different this time though; perhaps it was the knowledge of no interruptions or maybe it was the fact that they’re a good deal older than when their crushes first formed. Either way what was once an innocent kiss turned heated, even more so than the kisses they’d shared occasionally in the common room when everyone else was already in bed. Hands wanders and groped and before Percy even thought about what he was doing, he helped (Y/N) lift her jumper off.

“Percy, mum wants to know if- Oh god!” Fred yelped, and tried to hide a laugh when (Y/N) pushed Percy off of her and scrambled to reapply her sweater. He turned around, “Nevermind! I’ll just tell her you’re busy trying to make her a grandchild!”

(Y/N) and Percy were sure Fred didn’t actually give them up, because Molly and Arthur didn’t seem phased at all. Of course, the two love birds were on edge until they arrived at Hogwarts; it was only then that they were sure Mr. and Mrs. Weasley weren’t plotting some elaborate punishment. Unfortunately, even then things didn’t go back to normal... it was only the first week of school and Percy had barely seen (Y/N) despite both being Gryffindor prefects.

Percy had been making an effort to keep their interactions minimal. That day, back on the couch, something had snapped. She was all he could think about, and the thoughts weren’t rarely innocent. Sure, he thought about it before; it was only natural. They’d been together for a long time and they were both practically adults. Hell, they’d even snogged before, but maybe it was the fact that they’d never been THAT close before, because those thoughts had always been somewhat fleeting or at the very least easily pushed back. Not anymore.

(Y/N) wasn’t stupid. She knew very well he was ignoring her and she had enough of it. She’d stalked right up to him while he was patrolling the corridors, “Percy, we need to talk. Meet me at the prefects bathroom tonight, 6 pm?” It came out more as a question but before Percy even had a chance to tell her that would be highly inappropriate, she had spun around and walked away from him.

Needed to talk? Once Fred and George found out they’d told him clearly he wasn’t good enough in the sack and now she was going to get rid of him. Percy didn’t feel it necessary to correct them, it would probably only result in more teasing, but alas he was worried. Maybe she would want to get rid of him.... he hadn’t exactly been a doting boyfriend as of late. His mind reeled the rest of the evening and by the time he reached the prefects’ bathroom he didn’t even think about it before he whispered the password (pine-fresh) and walked right in. “(Y/N)! I didn’t mean to...”

She was seated comfortably in the elaborate bathtub already, he hair twisted into a neat bun and everything but her bare shoulders covered by the bubbles. She chose to ignore him and get straight to the point, “Percy, I’ve been thinking. Lately you’ve been ignoring me, there’s no need to deny it we both know it’s true. Anyways, it always boils down to that afternoon at your house, when Fred interrupted. Do you regret the direction we were headed?”

“No!” Percy was thankful that (Y/N) was a pretty straight forward person (at least with him). She never made him guess what she was feeling, but that didn’t help him right now. He still had to explain what he felt. “Well, that’s not entirely true. Since that interaction... I’ve had a hard time concentrating around you and I worry that maybe we aren’t on the same page? And now we’re at school so it’s not even possible if by some miracle you did feel the same.”

(Y/N) chuckled at him, “You can be a bit thick at times. Percy... there’s no one around now.”

“But...” No there was not.... but that was probably breaking at least 20 rules all at once. Of course being in here with her then was probably grounds for expulsion now. Maybe he could be a little harsher with some younger students and indirectly deduct some house points from himself.... Percy was struggling to come up with a reason to walk away, “You have a point...”

(Y/N) could see Percy’s mind unraveling, and she felt a little guilty, but they had to deal with this. “I’m not trying to push you into anything, Perce.”

“Could you just... turn around for a moment?” It wasn’t that Percy hadn’t wanted to. He just shouldn’t, and his biggest conundrum was that usually he didn’t want to if it meant he shouldn’t. He supposed he wasn’t too conflicted because when she turned around he quickly shed his clothing, putting them in a neat pile, and slipped into the hot bath water. He settled himself close enough that she could see he was in, but not close enough he was touching her.

(Y/N) smiled softly at him. Cautiously she moved closer to him. Percy’s face was only a few shades lighter than his own hair, “You sure you’re okay, Perce?”

Merlin he hated feeling this way. He was normally quite confident in his skills and abilities. He just hadn’t had the opportunity to perfect this aspect of his life, “Yes. I just haven’t-“

She couldn’t help but laugh. Of course she quickly stopped when she saw he wasn’t amused, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean like that, really! But we’ve been together since we were kids Percy, I would surely hope not since I haven’t either.”

That was a good point. He didn’t know why that hadn’t crossed his mind. By no means was he no longer nervous, but he was definitely put more at ease, he even chuckled along with her, “You’re right! I don’t know why I didn’t-“

She cut him off by kissing him, hopefully if she caught him while he was acting normal he wouldn’t have a chance to revert to acting so odd. It worked, and Percy melted into the familiarity of her lips. Their lips and tongues moved together and for a moment he’d forgotten about their predicament, until he reached out to grab her and instead of the fabric of her school robe his palms caught her wet bare skin. They paused again for a moment, but that was only for a moment. The desire that they had suppressed since the summer was back full-fold.

(Y/N) pressed herself against Percy and he had to bite back a groan as she rubbed against him. Both of their hands roamed freely without any hinderances of clothes and it was greatly appreciated by both parties. (Y/N) slid her right hand down his chest, delving lower until she captured his hardened shaft in her hand. Any concern she may have had about being too forward disappeared when he moaned into her mouth. She began stroking him, varying the speed of palm based on the reactions it elicited from him.

Percy didn’t know if he could pinpoint exactly what it was that was had him feeling like he’d snuck firewhiskey from the cupboard. It was probably a mixture of hormones, the naked girl in front of him and perhaps Fred and George were right about breaking the rules being fun. Whatever it was had him acting instinctively, and he mimicked his girlfriend to some degree. He reached between her legs and began to tease her as well, when she began bucking her hips against his palm he gave in and dipped his finger inside of her... and then another one.

They became a mess of sloppy kisses and moans, both experimenting with different movements and methods that brought another grunt of approval from their mouths. Until Percy grabbed her hand and brought her to an abrupt stop, “I can’t handle much more of this.”

Wordless (Y/N) guided him to the shallower end of the bath, where the could both sit with the water only reaching right below their chests. Percy tried to focus on the newly exposed flesh while she slid onto him. He laid kisses across her breasts and neck as he waiting for her to adjust to the new feeling that he had to imagine would be much more uncomfortable to her.

(Y/N) gave herself a moment, the experience wasn’t nearly as bad as she has prepared for. Perhaps it was that she had more control in their positions or that she had been properly worked up before hand, but she found it more uncomfortable than anything. With Percy’s mouth and hands distracting her, she began to move her hips, and slowly the uncomfortable feeling phased into a pleasurable one.

It was probably only a few minutes before the slow pace quickened. His hips snapped up to meet hers and it wasn’t long at all before they both gave into the new and intense pleasure, coming undone in each other’s arms.

A goofy grin was on both of their lips and Percy placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, “Wow. Might have to break the rules more often if you’re involved.”

[delimeful]

you will see a better day

donation drive commission for @starrykid with the prompt: Remus dealing with intrusive thoughts and the others helping him through it.

warnings: canon setting, intrusive thoughts (a fair amount), gore mentions, implications of thoughts of self harm, Remus Going Thru It

-

Before, whenever he had a Bad Day, it was just more fuel on the trash fire that was his brain. 

It was routine: Remus would wake up with a litany of grotesque images on the back of his eyelids, present every time he blinked or squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. These thoughts weren’t the fun kind of gross, the type that was fascinating or funny. They weren’t fun because he didn’t choose them, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of them if he didn’t like them. 

Guess that was how everyone else felt about you. Remus mashed a pillow over his own face as though it would muffle his own mind. What a stupid thought. He was a luxury few could afford, thank-you-very-much!

Back then, as soon as possible, he would find someone else in the Mindscape to bother, because if he had to deal with the awful thoughts carving and chipping away at the inside of his skull, it was only fair to share. 

That was before, when things had been black and white and he could be a monster all he pleased because it wasn’t like anyone else thought differently. It wasn’t like Thomas thought differently. 

Until he did.

And now they were all in one muddled up Mindscape and the others were trying, making an effort to clot their own bad habits and setting a place for him at the table. It was slow-going, like shoving a square peg into a circular hole, but it was also the most he’d ever had. Until something splintered, he was going to soak in every minute of it. 

Or at least, that was his plan, up until he hit another Bad Day like a semi truck hit thrice-dead roadkill. 

Same thoughts, same pounding (heh) headache. The difference was, now he couldn’t go word-vomit all over the nearest Side until he felt a little less like he was drowning. He was working to keep the delicate peace in his own way, and that meant not bothering the others with his… himself-ness on days like these. 

He couldn’t stay in his room all day, though. For one it was boring, and for two, ever since they’d all agreed to try and cohabitate, Patton and Janus in particular were insistent on checking in if anyone acted strange. Cooping up in his room and not being his usual fantastically sickening and outrageous self would definitely pop up on their radar. If that happened, there was no way he could fool Janus outright. He preferred his own brand of frank honesty anyways, so clearly the only solution was to behave normally enough that nobody looked twice. 

His version of normal, anyhow. 

He groaned loudly and then dragged in a breath, manifesting a pair of slippers that looked uncannily like dead fish onto his feet. He would just have to put his excellent acting skills to use. 

—- 

Remus’s willpower was put to the test as soon as he reached the kitchen. A new record of his ability to destroy plans, this must be why Janus never told him anything. 

Patton was spinning himself in circles on one of the round stools by the bar counter, humming a cartoon theme brightly to himself. At the stovetop, Virgil was sedately flipping pancakes, an easy set to his shoulders that meant he had probably recently taken a long-overdue nap in Logan’s room.

Normally, Remus would already be halfway into teasing the hell out of him, but now his brain felt scrambled with panic. Virgil was particularly susceptible to getting dragged into the cycle of intrusive thoughts on days like these, which meant the anxious Side was the last one he wanted to run into at the moment. 

Two birds with one brick, his stupid hell brain suggested slyly. Send Virgil into a spiral and then it’ll be him who gets nagged, his fault for ruining the friendly atmosphere. 

Stop it. Remus’s face twitched into a self-directed snarl for a moment, and he forced the thought away as Patton finally slowed his rotation to smile dizzily at him. 

“Remus! Good morning!” 

Virgil glanced over his shoulder, sending Remus’s heart rate briefly into the triple digits. Be normal be normal be normal. “Hey, Re. Morning.”

He didn’t even notice. So much for being your friend. If you’re subtle enough, you could sidle up behind him and smash his face into the hot burner—

“WHAT’S UP, FUCKERS!” Remus shouted, teeth spread in a too-wide grin. He bounced into the kitchen, depositing an assorted handful of teeth (his preferred currency) into the swear jar before Patton could say anything, and planted himself on the middle bar stool. 

Patton scooted one stool closer to be next to him, because of course he did. Remus resisted the urge to start prying out handfuls of hair, his own or— no. Toned down, he was keeping it toned down. Buttcheek on a stick, this was difficult.

“Want to spin with me?” Patton asked, shifting antsily from side to side with barely contained energy. 

“Whoever pukes first wins?” Remus replied automatically, and felt a bright burst of giddy joy when Patton giggle-snorted instead of recoiling. 

“I think upchuck is actually supposed to mean you lose your lunch and the spinning contest, kiddo.” 

Of course it did. You were designed to be the loser, even if you try to change the rules. 

Remus knew that this time Patton had spotted the way his lips twitched down into a grimace, but before the fatherly side could say anything, there was the clink of ceramic plates on the counter in front of them. 

“No spinning and/or vomiting if you want to eat my pancakes,” Virgil demanded, wielding a spatula threateningly at them as he clicked the stovetop off. “We’ll never hear the end of it from Princey if he has to reconjure all the furniture.” 

Irrational, heated anger burned through him. Like Virgil could do anything to stop you. Social interaction was enough to give the guy a panic attack, he couldn’t tell Remus to do or not do anything— 

“You good, Re?” Virgil asked, and he jerked, avoiding the other Side’s gaze as though eye contact would expose his thoughts. After a beat too long, his mind finally caught up with the plate in front of him. 

His pancake was covered in a truly disgusting amount of cheese and ketchup, the way he always requested it back when they’d all been Dark Sides. Despite the fact that he always made a face back then, Virgil had made a point to remember, had done it without asking. 

Like ravenous wolves, his thoughts instantly turned against him. 

Pathetic. How could you think things like that about people who trust you? You shouldn’t even be here, pretending to be a person. You deserve everything coming to you. 

His hand made it halfway to the fork sitting innocently next to his plate before he remembered himself. Virgil was still looking at him, clearly having caught the motion, and Remus lowered his hand, white-knuckled. 

“Me, good? That’s a funny one, V-mo!” he tried to joke, but the odd edge to his voice made it fall flat. Virgil was outright frowning now, and out of the corner of his vision Patton’s eyebrows were drawing together.

“What’s wrong?” Virgil asked, his frame tight with tension and his gaze drilling into Remus. “Are you hurt?” 

“I could be!” Remus blurted, trying to keep his tone saucy but ending up with something closer to desperate. “You ever think maybe bashing my skull in would be better than having to deal with its contents?”

The two of them winced, and he knew he’d given himself away completely. Shit.

Virgil reached out, and then stopped himself before he could make contact. Can you blame him? Jumping into an electrified tank of leeches would be more comfortable than willingly exposing himself to you. 

Something of his internal diatribe must have shown on Remus’s face, because Virgil’s hesitant expression flickered into regret.

“Shit,” he swore, and this time Patton didn’t chide him. “I can’t-- I don’t want to send you into a spiral, Re. If I touch you, we’re just going to be stuck in a feedback loop of bad thoughts.” 

“Like how you’re perpetually stuck in 2009?” Remus offered, instead of listing all the ways he could feasibly remove Virgil’s eyes from their sockets. It would almost be fun, if it wasn’t his friend’s eyes he was contemplating prying out with a spoon handle. 

Virgil’s lips pulled up slightly. “Yeah, just like that. I’m gonna go get the others. They’ll be able to help you for real.” 

He sunk out, and Remus’s head started to ache more severely as terrible and often gory predictions for the future began to crowd his mind. He shoved his hands into the roots of his hair and tugged ferociously. 

“Hey, buddy, you shouldn’t pull on your hair like that,” a concerned voice chimed in. Remus had almost forgotten Patton was still there, sitting only a seat away. 

He pulled harder on his hair, both out of spite and to distract himself from the urge to summon a weapon and see if Patton would still look at you with so much pity if you shanked his ass and tied his intestines into little bows. 

“Hey, what do you call a seasick croc?” Patton asked, abruptly enough that Remus managed to shake his train of thought. He glanced up to look at the Heart, who offered him a tremulous mischievous smile. “A crocobile.” 

Remus snorted, and Patton’s smile seemed to firm up. 

“How about, why do ducks have tail feathers?” the moral Side asked in that same leading tone. 

Remus thought for a minute. “‘Cause otherwise they’d lose their balance in flight and go splat against the nearest window?” 

“I mean, maybe, but also!” Patton held up a finger for emphasis. “They have tail feathers to cover their… butt-quacks.”

There was a beat of anticipation where they both stared at each other, and then Remus threw his head back and outright cackled. Patton fist pumped in delight. 

“I thought you might like that one, kiddo,” he said, beaming. Before Remus could reply, possibly with an atrocious pun of his own, Roman strode into the room. 

There was a brief, awkward pause as the two of them made eye contact. Patton looked rapidly between them with concern, and Remus couldn’t blame him. Even now, their one-on-one interactions tended to end with vicious spats. They were too good, too practiced at pressing each other's buttons to settle into the newfound peace easily. 

“... Bad one?” he finally asked, as though he could spot the wrong-evil-awful all over Remus from a mile away. Remus felt his expression drop into an irritable glower worthy of Anxiety, but before he could retort, Roman was seating himself primly on the communal couch.   

He ran his hand through the hair at the nape of his neck in a nervous habit Remus constantly teased him about, and then straightened his shoulders and patted the cushion next to him. “I’ll… like when we were kids. If you want.” 

Despite Patton’s confused head tilt, Remus got it immediately, and ignored the screaming violence in his head in favor of bodily throwing himself over the couch, jostling the hell out of his brother and eliciting a Grade-A Bitchface from him in the process. Remus grinned maliciously in return.

“Do the one that looks like a snake,” he demanded, running a hand through his hair and lengthening it. Of course, in addition, thick clumps of hair ended up falling out entirely, leaving weird-feeling bald patches that might have been interesting if he’d actually intended to create them. 

“On purpose or don’t want it?” Roman asked, echoing a familiar question from their childhood. It had been a royal decree, before they grew so divided, that one had to ask before ‘fixing’ anything the other did, just in case it was on purpose. 

“How are you supposed to braid what isn’t there?” Remus grumbled, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he unwillingly imagined restapling his hair to his skull. “Don’t want it.” 

Roman dragged his fingers through Remus’s hair, lengthening it until it was long enough to do all sorts of stupid-complicated braids. He also made the new hair unforgivably glossy and apple-scented, but Remus could get him back for that later, when he was sure it wouldn’t be (nails through nasal cavities, a cloud of suffocating darkness, decaying hands pulling you down into freshly turned soil and burying you alive) disproportionate retribution. 

Two braids later, Logan appeared, rising up in the mindscape with his tie perfectly aligned but lab goggle imprints around his eyes. He only took a moment to absorb the scene, as though it was normal that everyone was crowding around Remus attentively. “Virgil informed me that you could use some assistance?” 

Remus snorted. “Maybe you can perform some impromptu brain surgery to stop me thinking? Hey, if you don’t use anesthetic, I promise not to squirm too much, doc.”

“I don’t believe that man’s ever been to medical school,” Roman quoted absently, still caught up in combining three braids together into one. 

Logan rolled his eyes. “Regardless of my unfortunately lacking PhD status, I believe brain surgery to ‘stop one thinking’ is also colloquially referred to as an induced coma.” 

“Perfect!” Remus cheered, and then yelped when Roman tugged on his hair harshly in retribution. Patton was making that half-pitiful, half-furious face that he always made whenever the emo talked bad about himself, strangely enough.

“There are plenty of adjectives I could use to describe such a solution, but none of them would be ‘perfect’, Remus,” Logan continued. “A more effective and patient-friendly answer would be addressing your irritating or harmful thoughts through the use of various mental health tactics.” 

Easy for him to say. “That might work for Tommy-boy, but I am the harmful or irritating thoughts, remember?” 

“Falsehood.” Logan declared, proving that no matter what aspect of Thomas they were, the Sides were all dramatic theater kid bastards at heart. “It has become increasingly clear that while we all formed to handle certain tasks or aspects, we are all increasingly complex at heart. None of us can be diminished to simply one trait. In the same way that Virgil is much more than the experience of anxiety, there is no logical reason to reduce yourself to the thoughts that you struggle with.” 

Remus shook his head, though he wasn’t sure what part of the assertion he was resisting. Logan folded himself into a sitting position and reached over for Remus’s hand, his touch grounding. 

“You’ve gotten through days like this before. You’ll continue to do so after,” Logan told him. 

“I got through Bad Days by making everyone’s day bad,” Remus retorted. “I’m not you, but I’m not stupid. Nobody wants me making it into a communal event.” 

“That’s what family’s for though,” Patton said, shifting closer from his own spot on the rug. “Listening. Helping. Having each other’s backs when things get tough!” 

Logan’s grip didn’t falter. Roman’s presence was solid at his back. Remus was beginning to wonder if he’d snorted something hallucinogenic recently.

“The sentiment is admirable, if a bit hypocritical,” a familiar voice chimed in, and Remus looked up to see Janus leaning elegantly against the kitchen archway. Virgil elbowed his way past, ruining the dramatic pose and flopping down on the couch next to Remus. He bumped his shoe against Remus’s leg in quiet camaraderie.

“Hypocritical?” Logan echoed, raising an eyebrow. 

“Unless you’d like to tell me that everyone here has no problems whatsoever asking for help or expressing vulnerability on their bad days,” Janus proposed, smugly. 

Logan inclined his head slightly. “Point.” 

“Regardless, that doesn’t make Logic or Morality incorrect.” Janus looked at Remus intently. “None of us are allowed to simply suffer in silence, anymore.”

“I didn’t exactly suffer in silence before,” he pointed out, sounding uncannily sensible. Probably from the nerd’s proximity. 

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem now, hmm?” Janus replied. 

Logan sighed at them all, collectively, in general. “Look at it from this angle, Remus. Your previous coping mechanism was generally detrimental due to your lack of options and isolation. Now, you have neither of those holding you back. With knowledge and assistance, you can only improve from here on out.” 

Now, that was doubtful. “And what if I don’t, huh? What if I just get worse?” 

“Then we’ll still be here.” Logan squeezed his hand, and Janus confirmed his words with a nod, and even though his mind was cluttered and overwhelming, they were all still there at his side without complaint. 

Maybe it wasn’t too much to ask, after all.

“Well, what are we trying first?”

[defilerwyrm]

For the ask meme: burning bright, anything about the parts at the table with the Nein. You write their banter so well!

FIC SPOILERS BELOW!

Burning Bright on AO3

The entire dinner scene hit me like a bolt of lightning while I was working on this fic. It started with Beau’s outburst, and then Veth’s willful denial and subsequent fit, and I built the two scenes around that.

Diving into particulars….

“Uhm,” he said, intelligently, but quickly recovered and flashed his friends a smile. “It is most impressive. Certainly a step up from a tiny hut.”

A direct reference to the name of the spell. Originally it was Leomund’s tiny hut. I have no clue why in 5e Wizards decided to 86 the attribution names on so many spells like Otiluke’s resilient sphere and Tasha’s hideous laughter. Things like that always made me curious about the (what I assume were) PCs the spells were named after. I had thought maybe it was because the characters who diegetically invented them were specific to one setting, but in that case I don’t know why Bigby’s hand is still Bigby’s but Evard’s black tentacles are no longer Evard’s. I don’t like it. As an aside, Widowgast’s Nascent Nein-Sided Tower is, mechanically speaking, Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion. Anyway. Moving on!

It was delectable that Caleb wanted to impress him.

This boy hungry and not just for soup

Flustered, Essek tried to fend them off, but it was Caleb that did him in. It was always Caleb. The human took a large roll from his own plate, broke it in half, and offered one of these parts to Essek, who tried his best not to choke.

“You need to keep your strength up, ja?” Caleb implored him quietly.

The steady hand that accepted was a point of pride because it very much wanted to quake. The Kryn weren’t bread people, but...did he have any idea what this gesture would mean in Rosohna? Any inkling at all?

This is another one of those places where I delight in playing to cultural differences. What I’d had in mind for what that gesture—breaking food into two pieces and offering half to someone—WOULD mean in Rosohna was a bit nebulous, as I like to keep the reader guessing a bit and let their imagination fill in the blanks; but my rough idea was that it’s a courting gesture that signifies “I can and will provide for you, even if it means less for me.” An expression of selfless caregiving and an offer of partnership. Not wholly unlike a bird bringing food to a prospective mate.

And actually it’s a little bit funny coming from Caleb, who has fuck-all to his name but his name, when Essek is a rich bitch who answers directly to the Bright Queen.

Not that he was about to say it out loud, but he was a quick convert to this whole bread thing. To say that it won him over would be an understatement. That seemed to be a recurring theme here.

I imagine if I’d grown up never really eating bread and was introduced to it in adulthood I’d be like “Where have you BEEN all my life?!” But also: the bread is friendship, the bread is the Mighty Nein, the bread is communion in the spirit of sharing rather than politics and appearances and power plays—things he thought he was fine without until they were foisted upon him.

Somewhere in the course of the multiple conversations going on at one time, Jester got an Idea, as she was prone to doing. He became increasingly aware of her talking about kissing, of all things, and this culminated in her shouting above the din, cheeks flushed purple though he hadn’t seen her touch any wine: “I have an idea you guys! Why don’t we all go around and say how many people we’ve kissed?”

Jester is the most wonderfully convenient deus ex machina if you ever need to insert an awkward or embarrassing conversation among the Mighty Nein, because this is exactly the sort of shit she would do.

Jester leaped up and slammed her hands onto the table. “Caduceus you’ve never been kissed?! That’s so sad!”

The firbolg was unfazed. He merely shrugged and said, “It hasn’t come up and I haven’t gone looking. Not something I’ve ever thought about, really.”

Jester’s tail lashed back and forth behind her like an overstimulated cat. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Fjord went a bit wild-eyed at this. Caduceus smiled gently and said, “No thank you.”

Three things about this part:

1) Jester’s tail doesn’t get NEARLY enough mention in fic! If I’m playing (or writing) a character with a tail you can be damn sure you’re gonna know what it’s doing! Makes me wanna play a tabaxi tbqh.

2) Cad’s “No thank you” is the sum total of his sexuality, lol. Jester was raised in a pretty highly sexualized setting, didn’t really get out much before she fled Nicodranas, and can be pretty naïve, so she doesn’t really get the whole aroace thing; but it never crosses Cad’s mind that this would be “abnormal“ or ”sad” in any way—it causes him no distress, as it shouldn’t. This is yet another “Same planet, different worlds” moment.

3) Fjord is physically restraining himself from yelling “JESTER WHAT THE FUCK” lmao

Veth kept picking at it. “So you’re um. You know. Into the fellas?”

Beau snorted. “I could’a told you that months ago.”

“Yeah you could’a!” Veth pouted with a self-conscious curl to her shoulders.

I saw a comment on Tiktok that said Veth was being borderline homophobic, but that wasn’t my intent! It’s just that she inherited a certain blind spot for male queerness from her player, and as hard as she’d been trying to encourage Caleb to hook back up with his female ex, it never occurred to her that he had a male ex, too—and given that they’ve been so close for so long, she’s feeling pretty self-conscious about the fact that she never figured out that Caleb is bisexual in all that time, as well as kind of upset that no one—Caleb especially—told her. She’s having a moment of “Why didn’t I know this? Did you think it was going to change things between us? Did I make you feel unsafe?” And also a little bit of “Okay well, now I have to get him to hook up with TWO people AT ONCE because my boy deserves threesomes 😤”

Jester went goggle-eyed at him. “You’ve only been with one person?” she exclaimed. “But you’re like a hundred years old! And very handsome. I would have thought you’d get like, all the ladies.”

Ladies. Right.

Veth might not be the only one with a certain blind spot.

Beau gave her a funny look, snorting. “I dunno, he seems like the kinda guy who turns down those offers left and right.”

..…But Beau’s got his number, for more than one reason. She’s got super gaydar, for one, and has him pegged as the type who’s very choosy about his partners (also mind you, this was before demi!Essek was canonized by WoG, so I was still rolling with my hc that Essek got around when he felt like it).

The uproar was instantaneous. Everyone—almost everyone—started talking or shouting at once. Beau’s voice rang out among the din with, “HOLY SHIT ESSEK FUCKS.” Strangely pleased with himself, he downed the rest of his wine in one gulp and spent the next few minutes fending off increasingly prying, personal questions until the Nein grew bored with his lack of answers and someone changed the subject.

There it is, the line that spawned two entire scenes!

He was not a war mage, but he was experienced and wily, and he was damned good at what he did, and as long as there was breath left in his body, the Mighty Nein would not fall here.

Joke’s on me, motherfucker literally has the War Caster feat -_-

But like in my defense, that’s just what it’s called in the book. The feat just means that you have either the training or experience to cast well during a fight, which I see as not necessarily the same thing as a war mage, which was my way of saying an arcane caster who is a soldier.

Veth stared at her blankly as if willing herself not to understand. “Caleb? With who?”

She breathed steadily. “...Essek. Caleb and Essek.”

Beside her, Jester squealed and brought her fists to her face.

Veth was less enthused. “WHAT.”

Beau’s mental commentary here is dead on. Veth still doesn’t really trust Essek at this point and has been pretty vocal about that…despite being the one to declare him part of the Mighty Nein? Eh, she’s allowed to have complicated feelings on the guy, all things considered. But I find it kind of comical and very Veth (and very Sam) for her to be all full of zest for trying to get Caleb back together with the frigging Volstrucker who is actively working for his abuser and worst enemy but balk at him hooking up with Essek.

Jester “explained” in a delighted yell: “Caleb and Essek are gonna fuuuuuuck!”

I don’t know, is this too unsubtle to call foreshadowing? The line flowed naturally in the dialogue, but it’s also letting the reader know exactly what they’re in for next, lol.

“...He’s going to break that little elf twink, you know,” Veth said, sounding distant. Seemed she was having some difficulty processing. Not too surprising, considering how adamant she was about wanting their wizard to hook back up with his old flame, the fucking Volstrucker. “We’ve all seen his dick.”

This was 100% taken from Sam’s little throwaway line “It’s above-average” but it turned out to serve two purposes other than reminding the reader that all of these people have seen Caleb naked:

1) It’s yet another thing Veth thinks she understands about him but doesn’t. Caleb’s a top like Dalmatians are purple and if you disagree then I respect your right to be incorrect ;)

2) That said, it is, in fact, foreshadowing for the sequel, in which Essek experiences a great deal of frustration. (I haven’t touched the damn thing in weeks, feels like; I’ve been too busy with work, being exhausted from work, and being in a tizzy about my upcoming surgery.)

Fjord blurted out, “I’ll join you.”

Poor Fjord has had such an uncomfortable night!

Hoo boy that was a lot. Thanks for the ask, this was really fun!! And sorry it took so long; I work Saturday nights and things got really busy for a bit there.

[rubykgrant]

(Caboose)

The first video plays for them all, automatically.

He’d set it to some kind of timer, they aren’t sure how he figured out how long to make it last… had he actually calculated the exact right amount of time it would take for them to win the fight? Even with all the unknowns and variables? It doesn’t seem possible, but it also seems to be what happened.

There was just enough of a pause when the battle was over for them to barely catch their breath, and start to feel cautiously optimistic. They did it, they won. In fact, that is exactly what he tells them.

It doesn’t feel like a victory.

The first message plays for them all automatically. They don’t have a choice but to listen to it. Carolina and Wash hear it together, Doc hears it alone, and the rest of them hear it as a group. When he’s done talking, and what just happened starts to sink in, they each notice they have another message waiting for them… from him. Individual messages, sent to them all. These need to be opened and played voluntarily.

None of them play these videos. None of them talk about it, either. Because of this, they don’t even realize he sent a message to ALL of them. They wonder, why did I get another message? If they listened, they would have their answers… but none of them do, and none of them talk about it. Perhaps if they did, things would have happened differently. They would have seen that he had, in fact, said good-bye to everybody. They would have understood how they each felt about this situation a little better. They would have made different choices later. Instead, they don’t talk about it, and they don’t listen to the messages…

Caboose doesn’t listen because nobody tells him to, and he keeps thinking of the last time he touched something Church left behind; even though it had turned out alright, everybody had been upset with him. He wasn’t supposed to hide the Epsilon unit, and he wasn’t supposed to move it around, or talk to it, or wake it back up… Caboose didn’t understand WHY he wasn’t supposed to do that, because obviously somebody NEEDED to do it, and that somebody was Caboose. It made perfect sense to him, and it had gotten him Church, so it was a good thing… except they hadn’t been happy about it, so maybe it was a bad thing? Sometimes things were good and bad at the same time, but you didn’t know until later.

He remembers how they had all gotten upset, and he understands that there must have been a reason for it. The others don’t always seem to realize things that are very obvious to Caboose, so clearly this was just something he didn’t realize even though it was obvious to them. Caboose also remembers when they broke the Epsilon unit open, like an egg shell cracking when a baby bird hatches, so Church could come back out. Church had been upset then, too. Caboose didn’t get it, but that was OK. Church knew why he felt the way he did about things, so if Church wanted to be gone, it was probably a good idea. If Church didn’t want to come back yet, that was probably a good idea too…

Caboose doesn’t like it, though. He wants to find Church and bring him back, or at least just visit him for a little bit. There is probably a reason why he can’t… maybe Church is really busy, or doing something dangerous. Caboose thinks that seems silly, because they all do dangerous stuff all the time. It is always better to have a buddy with you, and Church didn’t even take Carolina or Washtub with him this time… it must be REALLY dangerous and important, then. Something only Church could do. He must be sad, being all alone, but he’s brave too.

Church was the one who saved them all, when it seemed like they were trapped and the bad guys were going to kill them… even though Church yells and complains a lot, Caboose could always tell he actually loved them, and that proved it. Church also made sure to say good-bye this time, so they wouldn’t wonder why he wasn’t there. That was nice… it was sad, but also nice. Things can be both. Just like how Church was mean but still loved them. Or how good ideas might also be bad. He knows this is how things are, he just doesn’t always get WHY.

Caboose misses his friend so much, but he’s not going to be sad this time. He’s not going to make everybody worry about him. He’ll be OK. He knows that eventually, Church will come back, and they can all be together again, because things are best when its like that. He’ll show Church that he was very careful this time; he didn’t touch anything he wasn’t given permission to touch. Church will be SO proud of him. Caboose can be brave and do things that are difficult, just like his best friend.

Caboose only lets himself get sad when he’s alone. Most of the time, he does a lot of things with the rest of his friends, which is fun and all, but none of them are as cool as Church. Sometimes, though… Caboose will go be by himself for a little while, and he lets all the sad feelings happen. This is when he misses Church the most, and when he feels a little mad too. Why isn’t anybody else worried about Church? Why aren’t they trying to find him, or anything? There must be a reason, even if Caboose doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t ask them, because he wants to prove that he can be OK on his own; they don’t HAVE to explain everything to him, all the time. He can figure stuff out. He figured out that Church is gone because he needs to be somewhere else right now, and he figured out that they aren’t going to get him because Church just isn’t done doing other stuff yet.

Caboose also figured out that he shouldn’t touch things other people leave behind unless they say so. Even when somebody is gone, their stuff is still their stuff. You should always ask if you can touch something that isn’t yours, and if you can’t ask, then you just leave it alone. Even if you really REALLY want to know what it is. Even if you REALLY REALLY REALLY miss your friend. Sometimes Caboose forgets to remember not to touch stuff, and he breaks something, or loses something, and then when his friends get upset it reminds him; Church isn’t here right now, and he can’t ask about the message. If he plays it, and he wasn’t supposed to, it might accidentally be bad somehow… then Church would be upset, and Caboose wants Church to be happy when he comes back.

Caboose doesn’t ask anybody what is going to happen, or where Church is. He just doesn’t talk about that stuff. This way, they won’t worry about him. He trusts that they’ll know what to do when they need to do something. He also doesn’t play the second message, because Church will let him know when he can. He’ll wait until he is supposed to play it. Then, they can watch it together.

[awhilde]

stupid

pairings: kaeya (genshin impact) x reader

genre(s): just pure fluff! 

warnings: swearing and minor (tiny) mentions of death. also, it would be advised to play the game ‘genshin impact’ up past adventure rank 10 because there are a few spoilers (?) and mentions of specific scenes. 

word count: 2.6k words

synopsis: in which you can’t stand the stupid ice man that seems to trail after your every move, infuriating with every word that falls from his lips, every curve of his mouth and every tilt of his head. the pure annoyance he gifts you makes your chest ache in exhaustion. i mean, that is the sole reason why your heart is pumping overdrive, right?  

author’s note: this is just a really quick, cheesy and plotless oneshot that i decided to write in under an hour, i think? if i’m being honest, i just wanted to see what my page would look like with something published, but please enjoy regardless! god i’m simping for kaeya even though genshin is literally not an otome game what ?? gave them the right to make him look so good??

a harmless tune twinkles in the city’s atmosphere, sorrowful tales hidden behind the cheer of a folk song and the strum of a harp

you listen, leaning against an open window, letting the gentle breeze tousle your hair behind your ears, drinking in the refreshing sensation of the wind kissing your closed eyes and exposed face. the suffocating atmosphere of the library leaves you as you daydream with the hum of the melody and lose yourself in its rhythm

  the scent of the storm last night taunts your mind of a nostalgic memory, easing the growing beast of worry in your heart

  the thought reminds you of the cause of such worry and you sigh reluctantly, knowing the pile of research notes by your desk wouldn’t sign themselves as you wasted time by this pocket of air, but your limbs are frozen, leisurely leaning against the frame of the window. you allow for time to flow unrestricted past your consciousness for there might not be another opportunity in the near future when you could relax as you did now

  life couldn’t possibly be contained within stress and work. you’d combust if this was the prevailing knowledge, collapsing from overworking your body or perhaps even dying from high blood pressure in your late 20’s which crept closer as time went by

where had your teenage years gone? the thrill of adventure and death?

“something on your mind, name?”

your eyes snap open, body whisking around to face the man that had managed to sneak up to your side without your notice. you recognise the presence beside you long before your eyes had laid upon their figure for they had been your partner in crime for far too long for you not to adapt to his chilly atmosphere

at least he was nice to be around in summer

kaeya, that infuriating ice man that had insisted on growing closer towards you despite the only connection you two shared being the fact that jean enjoyed tormenting you and placing the two of you together in missions

he had made his way to your right, contrasting your position as he leaned his back against the wall whilst you leaned your front torso out the window. suddenly the wind was nothing compared to him. with his arms crossed at his front, he gives you a side-long glance and smirks at your expression

huffing you turn away. “what do you want now, kaeya?” you ask

“what is with this hostility?” he shoots back. “don’t tell me i actually surprised you by being here.”

 your silence was enough of an answer for him to brighten. “wait, for real?”

you groan, cheek in your palm as you continue to close your eyes. “go away, kaeya, if you’re just here to make fun of me. go bother someone else, hasn’t there been a traveller of sorts that’s appeared recently?”

kaeya hums. “yeah, what about them?”

“go send them on a wild goose chase or something. didn’t you do that to the other one that passed by?” this time, you steal a peak at him through one eye. despite this being a small movement, kaeya’s immediately chases your eye.

ah, there’s that stupid sneer of his that you couldn’t stand. the sight was as familiar as the sun’s touch having seen it everywhere; after freezing jean’s feet to the ground when she got “too boring”, when he’d freeze the walls of your office in order to chase you out of the room and when he’d won that stupid game in that one stupid festival when they’d finished a mission early, turning with that exact sneer, his eyes steady and wild on yours as he handed you the first prize gift, not failing to bow as he presented the toy to you. that stupid pink bunny still sat somewhere in your room, not treasured but simply looked after. it wasn’t a significant item to be cherished after all

“i already did.” he had been saying when you zoned out. “i told them there was a mysterious treasure and sent them off. that little thing they had with them was especially keen on getting her small hands on whatever it was. shame there was nothing there to begin with, just another plan to draw out the futoi rats but i would have liked to see what that little thing could do with immense power. eat exotic foods, maybe?”

his eyes dart back to yours when he didn’t receive the response he expected; silence, and turns to face you. your eyes had gone glassy whilst in the process of reminiscing and he knew you were no longer in the present time. he sighs and stands

you catch the movement and snap back to reality, blinking before narrowing your eyes at his stupid face. “you have a look in your eyes.” you observe hesitantly

“and you weren’t paying attention to anything i said.” he retorts. he leans forward with his arms still crossed as if attempting to examine you further. the proximity startles you and you take a step back on instinct

the action makes him raise an eyebrow. “you’re also surprisingly quiet and grumpy today.”

wow you both are so good at stating the very obvious

it was true, despite hating his guts you couldn’t deny the spark of chemistry between the both of him whether it be dancing on the battlefield or even the snarky banter that he oddly seemed to enjoy. in an attempt to cover up where you had lacked, you face the window again. for some reason, it was easier to talk to him when you weren’t confronted with his stupid face. “oh? aren’t you glad i haven’t remarked on that stupid eyepatch you wear yet? unless, of course, you agree completely with what i say about it which, y’know, is the objective truth. it couldn’t possibly have been inherited. and its ugly.”

“nope! just as the title of being a pirate has been passed down in my family generation, so has the need to wear an eyepatch.” he cheerfully responds. “nice try, name, but i can still tell that you’re feeling down. you gonna tell me what it is or are we gonna continue this act until you grow bore of it?”

you sigh, caught in your façade that you had sub-consciously put up as a defense mechanism. not that he had no know what it was. something stupid in your stomach explodes with warmth at his prying, but you can’t hate it. that same stupid thing brings you to face him again and you regret it as soon as your eyes meet

he had stepped closer, close enough for you to feel his chill through the fabric of your clothes, close enough to see the fur on his attire rustle from the breeze by the window, his hair tousling also, close enough for your eyes to become captivated from his

well, his one eye

singular

eye

you chuckle slightly, the sound bubbling from the back of your throat until its pouring out without limit. you bend over, still giggling and the force makes you stumble. but its hilarious, does he wink or blink? omg imagine if he seductively winks but it just looks like he’s well, blinking

kaeya is taken back by your giggles but his incredulous stare doesn’t manage to stop the endless wave of laughter that causes tears to form at your eye, and your cheeks to begin to ache. it would hurt his reputation severely if he’d attempt to cheekily wink only to have the receiver no clue on what he was doing

god, you can’t believe you love this stupid boy

your laughter halts almost immediately

 …

love?

you don’t love him

why would you even consider that you liked him? he was a major pain in the ass, always bothering you when you worked, always messing around, always teasing you

right, you had just been so caught up in your laughter that it convinced your mind that the endorphins that had been released was due to kaeya, but it wasn’t. you don’t feel that way about him, you had just found his appearance hilarious

right

kaeya raises another eyebrow at you. “right, are you feeling okay? maybe we should ask jean for you to take a break.” he mumbles the last part as if it was an after thought but you hear it anyways

you turn away from him and begin walking back to your office. you knew he would follow after you and he does, his footsteps echoing your own until he is walking beside you, synced in your movements. “i’m not even that busy, stop exaggerating.” you step is bouncier, your fit of laughter at fault for your raised mood

“maybe not but you’re certainly boring.”

“your idea of fun is literally drinking with dilluc and making jean mad. maybe you shouldn’t be the one telling me if i’m boring?”

“so you’re not gonna deny it?’

“i like to think i take every one of my flaws into my stride. it would be even more embarrassing if someone didn’t know how much they sucked. like say, didn’t know how stupid they looked with an eyepatch?” you stick out your tongue at him and pulled down your eye. “pirate headass.”

he laughs as if you said something funny, but along the way you laugh with him

the sound of your laughs merging together, fuelling each other on, sound like music to your ears, a clearer tune than the only floating around the city, prettier than the twinkle of bells and bird song. it sounded familiar, like home, like watching rain dance on a windowpane, like heating your hands on a warm drink

“good to know your only insult of me is my eyepatch.” he says after your chuckles die

“and how is that a good thing?”

he sneaks a glance at you before looking start forward

“it means i must look practically perfect in your eyes, save for my apparently odd fashion sense. careful, name, or you’ll somehow manage to confess to me without your own knowledge.”

you splutter as he finishes, for some reason feeling defensive. “what the fuck do you mean by that?”

“well, you’re complimenting me, no? every other aspect of me are too good to insult?” the pair of you approach the doors to your office and his face lights up, mind clearly departing his last thought. “ah! we’re here. wait, why are we here again?” despite his words, he steps forward to enter your room, neither stopping to check if he had your permission nor to see if you were going insideyou narrowly miss the door as you unfreeze and dash in after him

he had already made his way to the back corner of the room, observing the shelf you had placed beside your desk. the shelves contained items that you held dear to you, the pair of earrings your aunt had gifted you before her demise, a book that you particularly enjoyed when you were younger, a stick figure of an old cartoon mascot back when you were only a child and so much more. it aided in providing you a relief of stress in your times of need. they were delicate and of upmost importance, items you placed dangerously close to your heart. but for some reason, you didn’t mind that kaeya were looking at them now  

you knew he wouldn’t break them, he wouldn’t be in such a high position of the knights if he was clumsy

instead, your mind travels back in time to what he had said so carelessly before he had entered the room

complimenting him? how absolutely ridiculous. saying his eyepatch made him look uglier was by no means a compliment, not even a twisted one. sure, it may infer that without it he would look much better, but this didn’t mean you would find him attractive without it, what a delusion. and in truth, kaeya treated it as if you were being serious which you weren’t, really. it wasn’t as ugly as you made it sound, you actually thought he suited it quite well.

wait a minute, what were you saying? perhaps kaeya had simply wanted to use reverse psychology on you and twist your very thoughts

well, he almost succeeded, you’ll give him that

“oh? what is this?”

his voice brings you back to reality and you realise with a start that you recognised the thing he was holding in his hand, the source of his question and the reason why the room appeared so much hotter than it had been before

in his hand, he held that stupid pink bunny

his eyes search yours in question, that stupid, stupid sneer on his face once more. it was clear he expected an answer, but you gave him none, instead staring him down with your eyes, feeling hot on your cheeks

“i think i remember this plushy, wasn’t it-“

your limbs move before your mind registers them, arm reaching out and activating your element, anemo, and calling upon the power to have your treasure returned to you

the green appears circling green whisps around the pink fur, growing clearer in appearance every passing millisecond before the entire toy is succumbed with the air

a small explosion follows after the orb, zapping kaeya’s hand, causing him to lose his gentle hold

the bunny falls to the ground, millimetres away from the carpet when you pull it towards you with your anemo  

when it finally enters your grasp, you wrap both arms around the bunny and draw it towards your heart, angling your body defensively, hiding it from his stare. “don’t say a single thing.” you warn him, but you know he wouldn’t ever leave you alone now

his eyes stare down at the palm that had been holding the toy before looking back up at you. “you just… used your anemo on me.”

“i did.”

his shell-shocked expression withdraws on his face, a small smile on his lips that was neither the shit-eating grin that he usually wore nor the stupid sneer. it looked sincere. and like he came to a sudden realisation. like something was confirmed

you open your mouth to say more, deny more perhaps yet you wouldn’t know what would come out of your mouth at that moment for your door bursts open, you and kaeya reacting immediately with your respective elements in hands, you only using one as you continue to hug the stuffed toy. an oddly familiar figure appears at the door, clad in white and with bright blonde hair. after the unknown individual, a small human floats after them. at the sight of the two, kaeya relaxes which prompts you to do so as well. ah, now you realised where you had seen them before, they were the iconic traveller

“what are you doing here?” kaeya asks for you. something in his tone is guarded

the small creature, paimon as you remember, speaks first. “we’ve come to ask for a hint! you said you’d help us solve riddles, remember? for the super cool, super wicked sword?” her small head turns to you as if acknowledging you for the first time. “oh, were we interrupting something?”

you raise an eyebrow. “nice to meet you too, i’m name. how did you find this place?”

paimon shrugs. “a knight told us that if we couldn’t find kaeya, we should check in this room.”

those words made the warm icky feeling in your chest expand. you clear your throat as you sense both kaeya’s and paimon’s eyes on you, the traveller oddly not saying a word and staring off into the distance. as subtly as you could, you place the toy behind your back and down on another shelf, reminding yourself to relocate it once whatever kaeya was planning at had finished

“well, show us the riddle then.” you say, ignoring the fuzzy feeling in your chest when kaeya joins the circle the five of you made, surrounding the item in the traveller’s hand and, you cursed, far too close to your right

your arm grazes one another as you shift closer for a better look

but you swallow the feeling deep down and look up to meet the traveller’s eyes. “well, i have a clue what this could mean.” you say, contrasting all the pacing thoughts in your head, casting aside the want to kick the two intruders from your room, to confront kaeya with the emotions you’ve been feeling around him, to possibly cry at the overwhelming truth of it all, that you did love him

but they became only thoughts, visible only in your mind

this world wasn’t suit for romance, not when there was a dragon terrorising the city, not when the gods were angry, not when you hadn’t confirmed if kaeya feels the same way

so you bury your newfound feelings, smiling gently at the traveller as you share what you knew with them, ignoring the present sensation of kaeya by your side, hoping that by the time you had collected yourself, you would be able to hide these foreign feelings

from his stupid face

[streets-in-paradise]

Family Matters

Troy (2004) reader insert fanfiction - Part 5

The option to vinculate links on words is not working right now for me, i don’t know why. I will add the links to the previous parts later. For now, all can be found in the Troy (2004) tag of my blog. 

Word Count: 2.858

Characters: Agamemnon, Menelaus, Achilles, Myceneaean Princess Reader. 

Relationships: Family relationships of the House of Atreus, Agamemnon and Achilles’ rivality. 

Warnings: Agamemnon and Menelaus being dickheads, hints of casual sexism. 

Summary: Agamemnon finds out about his daugther’s new friendship and his brother tries to stop him from making a big deal about it. 

Disclaimers: As i explained before, i try to follow Troy’s characterizations of most of the characters as much as i can. The Atrides are going to be douchebags because that’s how the movie portrays them. I just discovered i have lots of fun writing about this two scumbags, this was super fun to write. I felt them like the fun kind of scumbags while doing this. 

Tags: @yerevasunclair​ @hrisity12​ 

Thanks for reading!! 

Once the celebrations concluded and the guests started to return to their homelands the princess of Mycenae begged her father to let her stay in Sparta for a longer while instead of returning with him to their kingdom. Agamemnon didn't find major inconvenients on her request. He seemed pretty pleased with the image of family unity that the friendship of his daughter and his sister in law was reflecting. As long as Menelaus could be able to keep her under his watch and bring her back when she would wish it, he didn't have issues against it. For once, he didn't have anything to criticize. 

They discussed the topic early because she wanted to make sure of having enough time to convince him in the case of getting a straight negatory as first reply. She did it shortly before saying goodbye to Odysseus and Penelope, so she would be able to count with her biggest supporters in case of need. Before leaving, the king of Ithaca reminded her in a teasing tone to keep going with the good behaviour. The queen showed her gratitude for the help she was providing to her cousin. She hugged both of them with a great amount of enthusiasm and love. 

The situation became more complicated a short while after. Achilles was leaving the same day, joining his friend in the first stages of his travel. Without any consideration and staying true to his carefree style, he personally greeted the princess in front of her father. 

It was then when the king found out about their meeting. 

" Odysseus introduced us." she tried to excuse herself after seeing the horrified expression in her father's face. Achilles was trying to act in a cautious way because he didn't want to upset her, but the gesture was enough to make Agamemnon's blood boil and it was visible in his reaction. " It was just a formal introduction, very brief."  she lied. 

" I imagined it was a possibility. I wonder why I wasn't informed about it?"  the king recrimined her, looking at her with a deadly serious stare. 

" We didn't consider it necessary. " Achilles added. " As she said, it was very brief. Although, i felt i needed to approach her for a proper goodbye." 

" Since when do you have good manners? You are a killer beast." 

" I can be nicer when i want to be." 

Anticipating a new fight, she interrupted them in an attempt to calm them down. 

" There is no need for hostilities." 

" I didn't give you permission to speak." her father shut her up.

" You should, your rulership would be more stable if you listened to her from time to time. She is very clever and she loves her country. She told me some very interesting things about it, her eloquence makes you feel curious. She does a better job than you in selling off your unity ideal. I have the feeling that she could rule the country better than you. '' Achilles mocked him. 

She wished she could laugh openly at the comment. 

" Like if you knew anything about rulership. You are nothing more than an insolent soldier!!!"  Agamemnon replied, emphasizing the last sentence.

Before the argument could start to escalate they were interrupted by Menelaus. She felt relieved because all the work would not rely on Odysseus again. 

" What's the problem, brother? He is just teasing you." the spartan king commented in a relaxed tone. " Great joke, very appropriate. Polite but innocent. I'm not entirely sure of which one of you is supposed to insult more."  

" Why would it be insulting to me? " she asked, trying to hide her annoyance. 

" Because it is so irrelevant that it's funny. '' Menelaus started to laugh." If he truly wanted to compliment you he should have said something about your face or your hair, he could have praised anything else instead of your talent with words. You are not a diplomat, you are a young princess. That's not how you talk to a girl, that's how you close a negotiation. If all he has to say about you is that you talk a lot then he doesn't have anything too valuable. If I was your father I would be very calm about it. " 

" To praise a woman's intelligence is like to value a bird for its feet, absolutely pointless." Agamemnon added. " I must assume he is in the mood for strange jokes. " 

" Take it as you prefer, but I wasn't talking to you. "  the warrior replied, as sharply as usual.

The girl felt touched by his implícit defense. 

" It was an honour and a pleasure to meet you. I wish you good luck and a safefull return to your home." 

" You don't need to worry for him, darling. Danger itself is afraid of him. " Menelaus joked , interrupting them again. 

" I'm as used to danger as your uncle is to chaze girls young enough to be your cousins. " 

Instead of taking him seriously, the king of Sparta laughed again.

" You are a madman, but you never fail to amuse me. I think that the real reason why you two don't get along is because my brother doesn't get your sense of humour. He is a very serious man, always has been. " 

His niece was very happy because she guessed Achilles said that sharp commentary as a hint for her. From the many they had over the week, at least he remembered their deepest conversation. He took the bother of acting as her voice, saying to Menelaus at least a bit of everything she wished she could yell at him. It was a beautiful, kind gesture, more than she ever expected of him. 

She would have shown herself in absolute awe if it wasn't for the rampant rage she felt after witnessing her uncle laughing at something that would have enraged him if it would have been said by her. Pretending to keep engaged in the conversation, she defended Agamemnon. She hated to do it, but it was necessary to look less partial. 

" The weight of the crown makes him more wary but he has his moments."  

" It is the first reasonable thing i heard from you so far." he replied, with a bit of sarcasm." Go with your aunt... NOW!!" 

The young lady obeyed because she had no other choice. Without daring to emit a single sound, her gaze followed Achilles's one last time in a silent goodbye. He smiled at her with the same intention.

 She had to stand a long nagging session afterwards. Once the public gaze was no longer a concern Agammenon was free to show all his disgust and disappointment, threatening about how he was going to drag her back to Mycenae and lock her in the palace until she learned how to behave. 

She barely listened to him, her focus was almost entirely centered in her happy thoughts about Achilles. She was thinking of his beautiful blue eyes, his sweet smile, how much she enjoyed his company and how amazing he was for defending her in front of the biggest authorities of the place. He was so subtle that neither Agamemnon or Menelaus noticed anything. It felt like a last secret gift from him, something only them understood. 

Nothing else  mattered anymore. Not in a hopeless way but in a happy one instead. She was there pretending to care while keeping the happiness in her mind. It was the strangest and most amazing sensation. 

Her uncle was trying to defend her, but that didn't matter as well. She knew he was doing it for his own selfish reasons. He needed her there so she could stay to keep Helen calm, helping her to adapt and teaching her to ignore how much she hated him. She was going to use him for her own reasons as well, making him believe she was helping him when in fact her only objective was to protect Helen from him.

" Look at how happy she is. I can't be more pleased, I would love to have her around some more time" Menelaus was claiming. 

" SHE SHAMED ME!!! DO YOU WANT TO PRAISE HER FOR WHAT SHE DID TO ME ??"  his brother complained, yelling annoyingly.  

" Achilles was going to find another way to laugh one way or another. That's how he is, you don't need to punish her for it. " 

" Can you stop protecting her? We always face the same situation. She does something wrong and you want me to ignore it. Why was she talking to Achilles in the first place???" 

" Because we were in a party, a place where it is expected for you to meet people, and we were introduced to each other? "  she answered, trying to reflect some logic. 

" An introduction shouldn't last more than the time and words required to say your name and rank." 

" I wanted to make you look good in front of him. As you always say, I'm representing you. You wouldn't have liked me to act rude, you say it looks terrible in a woman. Some casual talk is needed to keep the appearances. He is important to you, I needed to keep him happy. " she defended herself. 

" Circunstancies force me to need of him, he is not important. You don't have to make him feel important. It is the worst thing you can do. Do you have any idea of how hard it is for me to deal with his ridículous pretensions???? "

" You didn't give me proper instructions on what to do. I had to guess and I did what i would had done in any formal meeting. "

" YOU TREATED HIM LIKE A KING!! He is nothing but a soldier!! You don't owe him any sort of formality, kindness or attention. He is nothing to you, NOTHING!" Agamemnon  emphasized.

Menelaus did his best to soften his speech. 

" What your father tries to say is that he thinks a soldier, despite his fame and recognition, doesn't deserve the same treatment you would give to a royal. A lady of your position shouldn't bother with him, not even regarding positive impressions. That kind of behaviour, even with good intentions on your part, feeds his idea of considering himself higher and greater than his general and king. "  he explained to her in a condescending way, like if she was completely ignorant on the matter. " You can't treat him like you would treat Odysseus. It feeds his ego and that makes things harder for your father.”

" I just tried to be nice. I heard he is a bad tempered hero who gets easily offended. " she fakely apologised. 

Menelaus was smiling at her with his usual enthusiasm. It hurted her a bit to not be able to correspond it but, in her cheerful state, fake it was easier than ever. 

" I know, you did good." he praised her." It's not your fault, you weren't sure of how to react.  Nobody prepared you for it." 

" NOW IT IS MY FAULT??? WHY DID YOU HAD TO INVITE HIM???"  Agamemnon complained, hysterically. 

" Have you seen my wife? She is the prettiest thing i have ever seen. I wanted her to be seen by everyone, you can't blame me. I bet not even Achilles himself had a woman as beautiful as mine. I had to ask him myself." 

" Did you actually ask him? His niece questioned him, laughing a bit and hiding her awkward reaction. Something of that did make her laugh for sure. Both kings were talking of Achilles like if he was a nobody that didn't matter, yet Menelaus had the need of proving himself in front of him. He made him come to his wedding so he could satisfy his masculine needs using Helen as a symbol. He wanted to show off to a godlike handsome man desired by many women that he got a particularly splendid woman he could only be able to dream of having. She was very amused while hearing his response. 

" Sure i did. He had to recognize I was right. There is no woman on this lands as gorgeous as mine. We may have our differences but nobody denies that. It's the only fact every greek agrees with. " 

" A good symbol of unity, the best idea you came up with lately. " she added, keeping the facade of cheerful approbation. 

" You always get me so quickly. That's my girl!!" he replied, hugging her sideways.

" I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR PRETTY WIFE, MENELAUS! THAT'S NOT THE POINT NOW!!" Agamemnon kept shouting. 

" Brother, you know i follow and support all your choices but you don't need to question her now. She had good intentions. " 

" Intentions don't justify terrible results. MY DAUGHTER , OF ALL PRINCESSES, WAS THE ONE TREATING HIM WITH HONOURS!! " 

" I already told you i'm sorry. What do you want me to do? Insult him the next time I see him?" she joked, fed up of his stupidity. 

"Let's hope there will be no next time. " her father assured her. " I try very hard to gradually trust you in the spaces a woman of your age should start attending. I know it is important but you keep bringing me more headaches. You are my daughter, ACT AS SUCH!" 

" Ajax says I'm lovely." she excused herself. 

" I CAN'T GET YOU MARRIED TO A BRUTE FROM AN INSIGNIFICANT KINGDOM!!" 

That was all he seemed to care about, his only obligation as a father. She was so relaxed that she barely cared about the mention of that delicate issue. Her good mood was a good push to keep inventing excuses to delay the talk.

" You have plenty of time to think about it but the world is not going to be conquered by itself. Soon you will rule every corner, being crowned as the greatest emperor of our history. I will be swimming in a sea of suitors, maybe even bigger than Helen's. This little incident will feel funny, we will be so powerful that men would embarrass themselves in front of me to get my approbation regardless of my behaviour. "

" Did you hear that? She is proud of you" Menelaus teased. 

" Of course i am. My dear father is the greatest conqueror this world has ever seen. Free cities tremble to the mention of his name. " she exaggerated to flatter him. As always, she was going to get what she wanted with lies. " I know some people like to spread lies and exaggerations claiming that you would be nothing without Achilles but the truth is that he would be nothing without you. You made him who he is, that ungrateful bastard is becoming a legend because he is fighting for you."  She said exactly what he wanted to hear, knowing she would get a positive response. 

" That's what i always say but nobody listens!! Nestor and Odysseus expect me to stand back and accept his pressures, your uncle thinks everything is a joke. That man doesn't respect me, he never listens to me! He is a threat to my position as commander of the army, I can't allow him to do as he pleases. What kind of example is that to other soldiers? To the kings whose armies are under my command???" 

" A seed of rebellion, you can't hold a weapon you can't control. That's why you do your best to keep him at bay. " she reassured him. " I'm sorry if my intervention ruins your plans. I tried to be a pleasant company to show off and make you proud. "  

Agamemnon was backing off slowly. He never used to make his changes of mind evident. She noticed it because his expression, still severe, didn't show the same rage anymore. 

" I can let it pass... for now,"  he sentenced. 

She gave him her sweetest fake smile, pleased with the outcome of her manipulation. 

" You are the best." 

" Don't make me regret it. " 

" You never asked how the meeting with Achilles felt for me. '' she reminded him, trying to stay on his good side. " He is the most insufferable vain man I have ever met. He thinks he is the best thing that happened to mankind since the flame of Prometheus. I don't know how you stand him. I deceived him because making him feel important was all I could do to keep him calmed. " 

Her lie amused both kings and they laughed in approbation. 

The young lady considered the discussion concluded in her favour. Explicit recognition was impossible, but she read it in their attitudes. Usually, hostilities ceasing and the matter being dismissed was the clearest sign. Disengaging was their way of losing without admitting it. They simply changed the subject and continued as always. She didn't even need to ask again if she could stay in Sparta, the agreement was implicit between both brothers. 

She left the family meeting with airs of triumph, secure of her possibilities. She managed to deceive Agamemnon and Menelaus at the same time. Her ability to fake was intact after all. As she handled both sons of Atreus at once, she started to feel perfectly capable to keep doing it with just one of them for the sake of Helen's wellbeing.

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

A Familiar Soul - Chapter Three

Summary: Hilda decides to be completely honest with her mother, surprised when she seems to be a lot more in on magic than Hilda had expected her to be.

With her daughter’s association with witches, Johanna is forced to face some secrets of her own, bringing her back to feelings and people she’d rather have left behind

Dealing with insecurities and inner demons of her own, Kaisa finds herself face to face with the very issues that brought her to be so displeased with her own abilities

Or: the one where Johanna is Kaisa’s familiar

Notes: I tried my best not to make Johanna’s parents downright abusive again but... that whole “this isn’t the sort of mum I wanted to be” breakdown Johanna had in The Fifty Year Night wasn’t something someone who grew up with good parents would do, I think. Hope you enjoy it!

Read it on ao3: (chpt1) (chpt2) (chpt3)

“Yep, this is certainly magical business just like you suspected, Frida. You can close your mouth now.”

At the librarian’s command, David closed his mouth and swallowed, feeling the bitter taste that arose every time he did so. He had been with his friends in the woods for a leaf identifying Sparrow Scout activity when he ate a berry that had evoked the most bizarre reaction from his body. Purple bubbles the same colour as the berry had sprouted on his tongue and made it feel like a dead slug inside his mouth, and as soon as the girls had taken a look at it they’d decided to go ask Kaisa what her opinion on the matter was.

“Am I going to die?” He whispered fearfully. David knew he could trust magic when it came from Frida, but aside from that his experience with it so far had been less than pleasant. Kaisa blew raspberry and swept a hand on the air, as if to brush his concerns away.

“You’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

The librarian turned her back to them and continued calmly typing on her computer behind the circulation desk, like she’d been doing when they arrived. Judging by the books on the counter, they assumed she was taking note of which tomes had been returned that day.

“Well?” Hilda shared a look with Frida as she asked. “What happened to him?”

The way Kaisa looked back at them and then to the side was uncharacteristic. She seemed to be battling with herself about whether or not she should answer them, which only made David worry that he was, indeed, going to die.

“He ate the berries of a bush protected by the fae people.” She explained at last, looking not at them but at the computer screen. “Terrible idea.”

“And how do we undo it?” Hilda stepped closer to the counter. The librarian placed her hand on top of one of the books, biting her bottom lip as she did so. Though she might not like Johanna, Kaisa wanted to respect her wishes as Hilda’s mother, and giving them what they needed very much went against them. It was the way Hilda was looking at her, with wide and hopeful eyes, that made her throw caution to the wind and give her the book. If the girl’s first reaction to disaster was looking for some random witch and not her mother, that was on Johanna.

“The potion is on page 63. It’s simple to brew, Frida shouldn’t have any trouble. Oh, and just for good measure, go back to the bush and place an offering on the ground for the faeries. They’ll enjoy anything sweet or shiny, as long as it’s not iron.”

“Thanks, Kaisa!” Hilda smiled up at her as she handed Frida the potions book. “You’re the best!”

The trio ran out of the library together, hoping to get started on their tasks as soon as possible. Until the doors closed behind them, Kaisa could hear Hilda talking about how she could handle the offering while her witch brewed the potion. She sighed and allowed herself to fall back against her chair, her head on her hands as she breathed deep.

The girl was too much like her mother.

_#_#_#_

It had been an extremely risky move on her part, but Johanna arrived safely on the ground. The palms of her hands were stinging from gripping her makeshift rope so tightly, and she looked up at the string of clothes she’d tied together in order to allow herself out of her room on the second floor of her house. As soon as her feet touched the earth, her best friend sighed in relief behind her.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Kaisa asked. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Johanna turned to face the young witch with a bright smile. Since the day they’d met each other in the woods two years before, they’d been inseparable. And Johanna wasn’t about to let that change.

“A three pm curfew is ridiculous and you know it. I’m not letting you go on a cool magical adventure without me, Kai. Besides, they won’t even be home! I’ll be fine.”

Kaisa sighed. She had to admit Johanna’s curfew, as well as every other limitation her parents gave her, were very strict, but how fair something was or not didn’t change the fact that Johanna would be punished if she got caught. At least she knew Johanna was quite good at this: she knew exactly what to do to not be seen having fun. It was around this time in the afternoon that Kaisa got invited over to Johanna’s house to play on most days, since the girl knew her sitter would be too busy watching her soap opera to notice her sneaking another child in the house. Besides, it wasn’t like Kaisa could talk her out of helping her; when Johanna got something in her mind, nobody could stop her.

“If you say so.” She shrugged, turning her attention back to the book she was holding. It was wordy and hard to read even for an adult, but Kaisa rather enjoyed deciphering it. In its pages was all the information humans knew about the Draugen treasure. Tildy had assured her that it wasn’t real, nothing more than an old sailors’ tale, but Kaisa knew it had to be real. Out of the few things her mother had left her, this book was one of them, and Kaisa believed that her mother wouldn’t give her a book filled with made up information.

“So, where are we headed?” Johanna fell in step with Kaisa, trusting her friend to lead the way even if she occasionally had to point out a closed walking sign or stop her from hitting a person or a street lamp. Kaisa could get very distracted when she was concentrating on her books.

“To the harbour.” The witch said with confidence. “And then, to the Draugen treasure.”

_#_#_#_

Things hadn’t been as simple as that. Once at the harbour, the two children had to face the fact that they had no means to go underwater. Johanna knew how to swim, and she even offered to go and get the proof that Kaisa wanted to bring home to her mentor, but Kaisa declined, not only wanting to see the treasure herself but also knowing that no matter how good Johanna was at swimming, she wouldn’t manage to find the shipwreck.

Feeling stuck, she’d sat down on a bolster to think. Nothing in her book hinted at how to actually get to the treasure, she knew so because she knew each word in it by heart, and still she searched the pages hoping an answer would magically appear.

“It’s not too bad if we don’t find it.” Johanna cooed from where she was sitting on the sand. The disappointment in Kaisa’s face was something she didn’t like to see, and it made her want to hug her. “Even if you don’t have any proof to take to Miss Pilkfist… you know it’s true. That’s already enough, isn’t it? Plus, if we wait we’re going to see a gorgeous sunset from here.”

Holding her cheeks between her hands, Kaisa grumbled. “I guess.”

Even though she’d given up, Kaisa continued staring at the book. Until, that is, she heard her friend gasp.

“What a pretty seashell, look!”

On Johanna’s palm there was a pearly white conch shell, its shape a little too perfect for it to be natural. Kaisa hopped from the stone, extending her hand so as to ask Johanna to see it, but the girl didn’t notice. Instead, she chuckled as she took a better look at it.

“It kind of looks like a tiny tuba, doesn’t it?” Saying that, Johanna brought the shell to her lips and blew. Both of them shrieked when it made a sound much louder than they had expected, even the birds from nearby trees flying away in fright.

“What the heck?” Johanna looked to her left to check if Kaisa had also been as surprised by the vibration, but the witch was staring wide eyed at something behind her friend. Turning her gaze to the sea, the girl gasped as she saw a tower of water rise up, with eyes staring right at them. If a being entirely made of water could even look annoyed, Johanna was sure this would be it.

“A water spirit.” Kaisa whispered. “Johanna, you’re a genius.”

Johanna had no idea of what was happening, but given that Kaisa seemed to have she didn’t worry. Instead of running away like she imagined would have been the most logical decision, Kaisa walked closer to the spirit and uttered gibberish. At this point, Johanna had lost count of how many magical languages she’d already heard her friend talking in.

Apparently happy at having been talked to, the spirit shape shifted to the form of a bubble. Kaisa turned back to Johanna with a smile, offering her hand to help her get up from the sand.

“Come on, Anna. We’ve got a treasure to find.”

_#_#_#_

The underwater landscape was something they both knew they’d never forget. Miraculously, the water spirit had taken them, safe and dry, through the sea that connected their city to other far away lands. When Kaisa pointed out a picture in her book that showed a representation of the sunken ship, the spirit had set off to a certain direction without needing any further instruction, which left the two girls free to look at the fish that swam by them and the other strange creatures they couldn’t recognize.

Once they reached the boat, or at least what was left of it, they couldn’t help but stare in awe for a couple of seconds. As soon as the shock of actually having found it wore off of Kaisa, she fist pumped the air. She really had been right, and she’d prove it.

Aside from a single draugen who for some reason didn’t stop sweeping a broom around during the whole time they were there, no one seemed to be guarding the treasure. This allowed them to find the chests the book spoke of, filled with golden items and a variety of other items.

“We could be rich!” Johanna had said, touching the golden coins and chains as soon as the water spirit rolled forward so the chests were inside the bubble.

Kaisa shook her head. “I don’t think we should take any of it. Tildy says it’s never a good idea to steal from the dead. We don’t know what’s up with that Draugen there.” She pointed to the cleaner, who had explained his situation upon their arrival. “As far as we are concerned, he might have been cursed for trying to steal some of the treasure.”

The possibility made Johanna hastily drop the coins she’d been holding.

“Oh.”

“Besides, maybe someone else would like to see this in the future, and I wouldn’t want them to find nothing. “

Following that logic, Kaisa decided to take a chip of wood from the weak shell of the boat. Certainly, that was insignificant enough that they wouldn’t face any repercussions, and it still was something they could take home for her to show her mentor that she’d been right.

They were returned to the harbor by the spirit, who as kind as always nodded them goodbye. Kaisa stared at the spot where it had disappeared, thinking that now she’d have even more motivation to learn to speak Water Spirit. That one seemed like a good friend to have.

Just as the sun was beginning to set, the two of them arrived at Tildy’s home. The sorceress was sitting on her couch, crocheting something out of pink wool, and Kaisa knew she’d felt it when they entered the house even though she didn’t look up.

“Aha!” The girl cried triumphantly, walking up to her teacher and raising the chip of wood above her head. “I told you the Draugen treasure was real, Tildy! We’ve found it, and I can prove it!”

As serene as if she was going through a daily occurence, Tildy lifted her gaze up to her young apprentice and to her friend, who was just beside her.

“How lovely that you found a fun way to spend the day! And welcome, Johanna, I made a cake today thinking about you. Why don’t you put some water in the kettle and we can all eat it while having some tea?”

“Sounds delicious!” Johanna set off to the kitchen, having been there enough times to know where everything was. Kaisa was left standing in front of the woman with an eyebrow lifted.

“Thank you for this, dear.” Tildy said as she took the chip from her hand. “Just what I needed.”

She tilted her head to the side. “You’re not surprised? You believe me?”

“Of course I’m not. And you have always been more of an overachiever than a cheater, so yes, I do.”

“Wait…” Kaisa looked down with a crease between her brows, trying to put the pieces together as the mentor got up from the sofa.

“I do know the treasure is true. But you see, I needed something that belonged to a Draugen for a potion I want to make and that’s not really easy to get! So I thought I could count on you to want to prove me wrong if I said I didn’t believe in it.”

“Tildy!” Kaisa groaned. She wanted to be annoyed or angry but truly? She found her mentor’s behaviour quite amusing. Would she ever manage to outsmart the great arch sorceress, Kaisa wondered.

“Let’s go eat, now. You two deserve your cake.”

_#_#_#_

After eating, Kaisa had offered to walk Johanna back to her house. The days were getting ever shorter, and the wind was icy cold as they walked, but they didn’t care. Being with each other always made the rest of the world fade away, and once again Kaisa was grateful that Johanna had been so insistent on befriending her. They were laughing and shooting the breeze while they walked, until Johanna stopped abruptly and gripped Kaisa’s wrist so she would too.

“My parents are home.” She whispered stiffly, looking at the house’s garage, where there were now two cars. “They will probably have noticed I’m gone by now.”

“I’ll go with you.” Kaisa said immediately. “I’ll… I’ll say I pressured you to leave without supervision.”

Johanna gave her a sympathetic smile. There was evident sadness in her eyes, and she squeezed her friend’s hand.

“That’s exactly what I don’t want you to do and you know it. We’ve been here before. If they think you’re guilty of anything, they will want me to stop seeing you. Turn back now and it’ll be better for both of us.”

Kaisa’s shoulders slumped. It wasn’t often that something like this happened, but whenever it did, she was filled by a sense of helplessness before her best friend’s situation. Still, Johanna knew her own parents better than Kaisa did, so she always obeyed.

“Library as soon as you can?” Kaisa asked in a small, hopeful voice, knowing that Johanna’s parents wouldn’t allow her to leave the house at all for a while. It was their arrangement that whenever Johanna got grounded, Kaisa would be in the library at exactly ten in the morning every day until Johanna was allowed to leave, even if followed by her sitter, to tell her she was free to visit Kaisa and be visited by her.

Johanna nodded and let go of her hand, only heading toher house when Kaisa had already begun to walk away, so as to be sure her friend wouldn’t try anything heroic.

Her pace was closer to a run as she went back to Tildy’s. Tears stung at her eyes but she held them back. It wasn’t fair that Johanna would be punished if Kaisa was the one who had asked for company. It wasn’t fair at all. One day, Kaisa thought, she’d be strong enough to save her too.

_#_#_#_

When Johanna asked her how her afternoon had gone, Hilda had had to resist the instinct to say the first lie that popped on her mind. She was being honest now, she reminded herself. In the most calm and casual way she could, she narrated the events she’d gone through while her mother finished preparing their dinner, but it was easy to tell her mother did not approve of most, if not everything, of what she was telling. Her shoulders were visibly tight and her mouth was pursed, and the only reaction Hilda got were grunts. When the story was finished, the woman sighed tiredly.

“Hilda, I… I don’t know what to tell you. Sweetheart, you could have gotten hurt.”

“Mum” Hilda groaned, trying to make herself look taller. Why did her mother think she was so fragile? “I understand you’re scared for me because you just want me to be okay. But I am okay! This wasn’t dangerous, I promise. You had to see Frida, she was awesome! She’s so smart and skilled.”

Johanna took a deep breath as she took the pie away from the oven and over to the table. No, it wasn’t dangerous, at least what Hilda had told her wasn’t. She still didn’t like it, since her own experiences led her to be wary about that situation, but she knew making a storm in a teacup would only make it so Hilda never told her anything.

“You’re right, sweetheart. I just want to tell you to try not to rely on magic for everything. And Frida… she’s your friend, and a good girl, but do not idolize her, okay? She’s just as human as us, and you may not be able to count on her for everything.”

Hilda’s brow furrowed, thoughts about what it was that her mother wasn’t telling her clouding her mind. “She’s my best friend, mum. I know I can count on her.”

Johanna clenched the fist that wasn’t pulling herself a chair.

“I suppose you can. But listen to me on this, I don’t want you seeing the librarian again.”

Now sitting in front of her mother, Hilda blinked in surprise. “What? Why?”

“Anyone who feels this comfortable giving children magic is not to be trusted” Johanna answered simply, making her child sigh.

Getting her mother to trust her judgement would take a while.