#and even find them amusing/charming even though for some those same actions would make them want to keep their distance

[elisedonut]

Percy's great to write for because he's an attention whore and desperate for affection because he doesn't get enough of it at home so he's very likely to ignore certain red flags if someone seems honestly and genuinely into him.

[affluent-havoc]

Naegami Fluff and/or Shenanigans 8

Sometimes, the two just have those classic movie nights. Not anything super fancy or romantic. Just the two of them chilling while watching a flick. It started off as Makoto's one-off idea before it blossomed. The two aren't even that big into movies but it's something they do together. However, one day, after finding a shit movie neither of them have heard of, the movie night spiraled into something bigger. Basically, the gist of their new and improved movie nights is:

This definitely became something the two never would have guessed to become so chaotic. Cus, every few moments in movies, Byakuya just HAS to pause it and go on a rant on everything wrong with the scene or dialogue while Makoto desperately tries not to laugh too hard. He fails though. Every. Single. Time. I mean, how can he NOT laugh when his boyfriend is absolutely ROASTING and MURDERING the poor movie with expert precision! Like, Byakuya's just stabbing the ever loving shit outta every plot hole imaginable and there is nothing that Makoto can do about it. Not that he'd WANT to... Makoto genuinely loves hearing his boyfriend rant about stuff in general, so this is no exception. Hell. The fact that Byakuya isn't even that big of a movie fan makes it better. Also, the ways that Byakuya explains the movie plots to him also doesn't help due to Byakuya's general sass the whole time. Gets Makoto every damn time.

The initially just watched bad live-action movies like The Room, Sharknado, all Neil Breen movies like Fateful Findings and Twisted Pair. However, after digging around for more bad shit for them to find, they decided to bite the bad and strange animated movies which Byakuya has his own new type of rants for. AKA "Stupid Children's Movie Humor that Moronic American Executives Force to Add into the Movies is Dumb and Stupid" rant. Also, there's also the obvious rant about the animation or animation errors. And that is where they made their best/worst decision ever. Yeah. Makoto nearly died when they watched The Bee Movie because of the unhinged rants Byakuya went on. Tldr; Byakuya absolutely DESPISES Jerry Seinfeld and made that VERY clear. Meanwhile, Makoto barely knows who the fuck Seinfeld is, though that doesn't matter because the boy is literally curled up on his side, on the couch, clutching it for dear life while freaking snort-laughing to death as Byakuya just won't let up. Makoto also leans on Byakuya a bit for SOME semblance of support but it barely helps and the heir's movements just make him laugh and giggle even harder. The whole time, Byakuya's just smirking at him while being amused at Makoto's response. And, gosh. The day after was almost as bad when Byakuya pulled at the cork board to explain even MORE about his hatred of Seinfeld. Makoto shed many tears those days from how hard he was just dying from the whole thing. Also didn't help when Makoto tried to engage himself with the discourse by asking questions. The key word is TRIED. He could only get a few legible words out at that point which Byakuya absolutely teased him for. Like: "Ah, Makoto. This is no laughing matter! I am talking about the heinous deeds of an unfunny comedian! This man is DESPICABLE!" he says, also struggling a bit not to laugh himself. Cus, Makoto has the gift of having a bit of a contagious laugh. Specifically in the sense that hearing it is cute and, if one ever laughed along with him, zero shits would be given about one sounded cus they're too busy trying and failing to keep it together. Also, it's just easy to kinda have fun laughing with the little guy like that. 'Tis hard attempting to not be charmed by he eggy ways though some are obviously immune. Byakuya is not. AHEM

Yeah. Byakuya was SOOO having a fucking blast tearing apart both the movie and Seinfeld both cus he likes ranting but also because, at this point, he knows he just genuinely likes seeing Makoto happy. Makoto's the same way which is why, even during the times he was absolutely crying at that point from how hard he was laughing his ass off, he only sometimes told Byakuya to quit it, which was mostly in a playful and kinda whinny way cus Makoto was still losing it BAAAAD. That is not an understatement. Can also see Byakuya being a bit of a dick here by ruffling Makoto's hair or something which just makes the guy both flustered and even more giggly than before. Having said all of this though, I have a feeling Makoto finds a way the break the bastard back though. I mean, Makoto's been doing a lot of laughing! Might as well get some payback! Also payback for Byakuya freaking poking him, rubbing it in that Makoto sounds like a total loser. Nothing too lethal though. Not that Makoto could BE lethal. Just the boy trying and failing to maybe crack a joke or something but he's bad at it, regardless if he's laughing hysterically or not. The attempt is short lived though as Makoto kinda just tries to get everything back on track regarding the actual PLOT of The Bee Movie. Cus, Byakuya's actual a bit out of breath from all that Seinfeld ranting. It backfires though. They both end up in a weird conversation on how the fuck Vanessa is plowing that bee. AKA, the strangest talk they've had about anything ever up until this point... Like, it starts off as a genuine question before it just devolves into Makoto trying to end it all while covering his face, laughing hysterically while Byakuya's no better. He just keeps trying and failing to actually psycho-analyze the logistics here. Meanwhile, Makoto is lowkey squealing for him to finally quit the bit while Byakuya just keeps going. He may be out of breath from the Seinfeld rant but he is just on a roll today and nothing is stopping him. And, when everything FINALLY starts to calm down a bit, the two reflect a bit on what the fuck just happened. Oddly enough though, they're content about it. Like, the two had fun. Makoto nearly died. All is good in the world. And maybe they just cuddle after. Idk! T-T

[keiarchived]

Hey, congrats on 500! Can I get Yandere!God!Hawks kidnapping priestess!reader from his temple to keep as his wife, including forcing immortality on her because she was his most faithful. -🧶 Anon

Thank you bub! ♥️ ALSO YES TO YOUR CONCEPT 🥴💦 thats fucking hot 🥵

yandere!god!Hawks x priestess!reader

warnings: yandere, dubcon/noncon, kidnapping, power abuse, manipulation, blood play, size difference kinda, cum inflation, master kink, no editing, sleepyish writing

words: 1.1k

For as long as you could remember, your people have always worshiped this red winged higher being; Hawks. A God of freedom and compassion. He is said to have gorgeous honey blonde hair that matches those sharp eyes, large scarlet wings that let him soar through the sky like a Phoenix. It is unclear how accurate these descriptions passed down generations of your family are, it could’ve easily been made up just to give everyone a clearer vision on the God they are worshipping. But only for you to find out your ancestors weren’t wrong, “So you’re the new priestess?”

The first time Hawks reached out to you, personally, shivers crawls down your spine as goosebumps scattered. His voice is smoother than you’d imagine, tone lay back almost to the extend of lazy and well he is as charming as people made him to be, there are no doubts about that. “I-I am and you are-“

“Hawks.”

It became some kind of tradition for this higher being to throw new priestess off guard whenever he could, they are new to this almost in a naive way. ‘I’m prepared for this.’ As most would tell their elder, but nothing could prepare them for the first time Hawks would reach out to them like he had done so many times before. After all, they will be working with him for as long as they could so why not have a little fun whilst he’s at it? Surely it can’t hurt anyone.

“You’re a cute one, quivering and looking like you’re about to cry.” Hawks taunts, lips curling into this playful smirk as he closed the distance between the two of you. Stalking over ever so slowly until your back have meet the cold wall, he had been observing you from a distance ever since you walked this earth. But you don’t know that nor do you know the very same God you’re worshipping have taken a personal liking in you, “I’m j-just surprised, no one told me you’d just show up like this. At least give me a heads up sign or something.” As expected, you are different from all those stuffy suffocating and he is amused. No one have spoken to him like this for a while, not a human like you at least.

This is going to be fun.

Hawks only ever make occasional appearances whenever a pristesss calls for him either for his help or just to make a offering, but lately he’s been dropping by more often than usual with the excuses of ‘there’s some business nearby I need to take care of’ whilst in reality Hawks came to see you.

“Who’s that guy?” Your guardian angel asks, eyeing the man up and down, wanting to do nothing more than just wipe that awful pink off his face. How dare he even attempt to flirt with you? When he knows you are his and his alone. “Just a childhood friend.” With a little bit of a crush but Hawks doesn’t need to know that, it’s not like you’re hiding it from him on purpose. “You wouldn’t lie to me would you little one?” Clearly, he is unimpressed by your answer. Having to study and observe you enough from a distance, Hawks knows when you’re lying and this is one of those times.

“Of course not.” Perhaps you should’ve just been honest, rather than to face the jealousy of a God.

Hawks is known to be a trickster among the Gods, so it was no surprise when he decide to appear out of thin air just as you and that so called childhood friend was getting way too comfortable with each other, scooping you right up as though you weight nothing more than a feather. “You’re coming with me and I am not taking no as an answer, little one.” Still baffled by what happened, the next you know you are gone. Nowhere near surface of the Earth but soaring through the sky, “Hawks!”

Not that he could hear you though.

There has only ever been a few people Hawks seems worthy to be his wife and to become immortal, spending forever with him, isn’t that wonderful? Countless of people had tried to impressive him whether that be Gods or mortals alike but no one is as perfect as you, body arching and quivering in ways he had never seen before. “Beautiful...” Hawks whispered, tracing your delicate looking spine whilst the other curls around those soft locks reminding him to be careful or otherwise you just may break whilst he continue to plungs himself into your welcoming cunt.

The only sounds lolling from your mouth are of nothing but pleasure and lust, of course you tried to reason with Hawks. Saying how absurd it is with what he have done, but Hawks have his way with words. He always do. Making you believe this is the best possible outcome, how he have his eyes on you for the longest time and want you as his wife because you are the most faithful as well as beautiful among them all.

“Cry for me baby, that’s it. Fucking scream my name.” A low taunting chuckle rumbled at Hawks’ chest, mercy is now a privilege. Expecting to be treated like a princess is nothing but a naive thought after the lie you fed him, “You want to be with me right my little priestess? Or would you rather have that pathetic of a man as your husband?” The blonde mocks, chuckles soon turns into a echoing laugh instead. Bouncing all those pillars like these sweet delicious moans , “Y-You! I want to be with you!” Shameless, where did your pride and fight go? Devoured by the same God who’s currently fucking you stupid, stretching you beyond anyone have ever before.

“Good girl.” Despite the roughness of his action, Hawks praises you. “Good girl deserves rewards don’t you think?” Who doesn’t like a little reward once in a while?

As if Hawks couldn’t get any more brutal and cruel, his rhythm soon became bruising against your hips. “Ma-master!” You cried, every nudge at that ring of muscle edges those tears to stain your cheeks further with every sobs passing thought those swollen lips. “Take it all my love, take it!” God, if only there is a way to describe this fullness as your belly well with his cum. Pumping you full and to the brim as those eyes rolls back, lips gaping with a silent moan. “Fuck... fuck fuck...” If that’s how Hawks falls from his grace, so be it. 

Fingers lodge between your plum lips, forcing them open as a devilish smirk stretch across his lips. “That’s it, drink up baby. Every last drop of it.” Baffled by what Hawks meant but it didn’t take long until you could taste the iron from his fingers, keeping your tongue pressed harshly against your jaw. Forcing ever last drop of his blood down your throat, drowning from this enteral crimson.

“Rest up for now, my love. We have a long day ahead of us.”  

[wy-van-sunshine]

“Minor inconvenience: I fell in love with you” A Wesper fanfiction :)

“Say whaaaat now?!”

Wylan’s cheeks flushed with red as Jesper’s gaze studied him with something between shock and amusement.

They were in a bar together and Wylan had spotted a nice guy, but he hadn’t found the gut to go and talk to him because he had absolutely zero experience. Jesper had tried to encourage him and he’d refused, and after some teasing he’d finally admitted he’d never even given his first kiss. Jesper was absolutely incredulous: that smart, cute red-haired guy had never had a romantic past with anyone? Not even a flirt?!

“What do you want me to say?” asked Wylan, sinking in his own shame: “There’s just never been... the right occasion”

“I get that, but have you never wanted to try it? Even with a stranger, just to know how it feels!”

“I’m not that kind of person, I don’t kiss strangers for selfish reasons”

Jesper rolled his eyes: “Okay prince charming, and what about the guys you’ve liked in the past? None of them?”

Wylan scrolled his head: “I’m an introverted, Jes, you know that. If I like someone I��ll die before even talking to them”

“So what, you just look at them in silence and hope that they will miraculously fall in love with you?”

Wylan shifted uncomfortably on his seat, refusing to answer: yes, that was basically what he did. He was pathetic and he knew it, but what could he do about that?

Jesper stood up, grinning: “Well, Wylan Van Eck, your life as a virgin will be over soon”

Wylan’s eyes wandered fastly in the room, then went back to Jesper: “Don’t talk like that when there’s other people around us”

“My candor is my greatest power” answered the Zemeni with a wink: “I’ll teach you everything I know about flirting, and you’ll never be afraid to talk to a nice guy again”

“What- are you crazy?”

“No”

“Drunk?”

“No”

“High?”

“Stop it! I’m serious!” Jesper smiled: “You are a great guy and I’m sure you just need to learn how to hit on other boys. Once I reveal you all the secrets of love, you’ll be the king. Well, the prince, after me, of course”

Wylan snorted: “Secrets of love? May I remind you we’re the same age?”

“Yes, but I’m fantastic. Learn from the best and you won’t regret it”

“All I’m going to learn from the sorcerer of love is how to be terribly sleazy”

Jesper clutched a hand to his chest: “That offends me! You’ll learn to be spectacularly amazing, just as I am”

Wylan facepalmed, but at the same time he thought: what the hell, what do I have to lose?

“Fine then, if you insist” he conceded with a sigh.

* * * * *

“And that concludes the small talk part”

“Ghezen, that’s so sad”

“Or amazing?”

“Sad”

“Or... amazing?”

Wylan sighed: “Asking someone whether their parents were thieves because their eyes look like stolen stars is so sad. And old. And sleazy”

Jesper smiled, winking with his gleamy eyes: “I assure you it works. It might be obvious, but people just don’t know how to answer and stupidly smile at you”

“I thought they would throw their drink on your face”

“No, they don’t”

“I would”

“But not them”

Wylan sighed again, but this time a slight smile was touching his lips: he was secretly grateful to Jesper because he was teaching him things that were so basic, but which he didn’t know how to handle. Approaching someone, starting a conversation, sending signals of interest without being weird or disrespectful: if he had to be honest, if Jesper had flirted with him with all those techniques it probably would’ve worked. Sure, he would’ve thrown him his drink first, but he would’ve fallen for him, eventually. 

“Now the interesting part: kissing”

Wylan suddenly went pale: “What?”

“All that flirting and no action? That’s not what I want for my students to learn”

“But I- I’ve never-”

“I know, that’s why we’re going to find someone to practice with”

Wylan snorted: “I’m not going to kiss a stranger! Are you out of your mind?”

Jesper rolled his eyes: “Jeez, Wylan, you’re so prudish! Live a little!”

“I’m not kissing a stranger. End of argument”

Jesper huffed: he was loving to share his knowledge on the subject and he was also proud of Wylan for getting over his shyness at least with him. The merchling was a handsome guy and Jesper was sure that with a little more confidence the entire world would fall to his feet. But, jeez, how hard it was.

“I can’t teach you how to kiss if you have no one to do it with”

“I’ll kiss you then”

Silence fell between the two: Wylan had spoken before he could even realize what his words meant, and now he was terrified of what he’d said and trying to avoid Jesper’s eye contact; Jesper, on the other hand, wasn’t embarassed at all, just surprised at his friend’s suggestion. 

Wylan talked first: “I didn’t mean-”

“No, it’s fine by me” Jesper stopped him before he could get any more red: “It’ll be easier to understand whether you’re doing it right”

Wylan gazed at him, unsure of what to say: “Are you... sure?”

Jesper winked: “Anything for you, my friend”

They got ready to practice: Jesper explained some basic “rules” about kissing and some moves he thought were gracefully good and that would make the kiss unique and mostly unforgettable. He saw Wylan’s eyes gleaming at the thought of doing that and his heart softened: he was so pure, definitely too cute for this world. Jesper made a mental note to threaten every guy the redhead would find because they should treat him like a prince or else- 

The Zemeni smiled at Wylan, sure that what he was going to say would make his friend’s brain crash for some seconds. 

“Now we have to put all this in action. Time to kiss, loveboy”

Wylan shifted uncomfortably on his feet and his cheeks went pinker.

Predictable. Cute, but predictable.

“All right. What should I... should we...”

Jesper placed a hand on Wylan’s shoulder and he stepped forward to face him. He smiled, but not his usual, smart, all-knowing grin: the merchling had seen that emotion few times before on Jesper’s features. He was simply honest.

“Please, promise not to freak out. It’s just you and me and we’re practising. C’mon now”

Wylan nodded and took a deep breath, then leaned forward with his head and, after hesitating for the barest second, he gently touched Jesper’s lips for a brief moment. He closed his eyes and left a kiss there, then pulled away, his heart racing in his chest for no apparent reason.

Jesper felt something in his stomach as well: he felt like that sweet, innocent, small touch was the best kiss he’d ever had. And he’d had a lot. What was happening? He cleared his throat and laughed: “That’s all you have? I’ve taught you better, I hope!”

Wylan mentally asked his heart to please stop playing the rock ‘n roll like a drummer, then timidly smiled: “It’s not easy, give me time”

But Jesper didn’t want to wait: he knew what to expect, he knew how the kisses he gave were, and he really wanted that from Wylan’s lips. Just blind desire, he told himself. You just want a good old fashioned kiss, that’s all.

Wylan breathed again, then, with less hesitation than before, he met Jesper’s lips with his and started kissing him. He felt the Zemeni kissing him back, though not in the passionate way he’d expected: he was just answering to his movements, he wasn’t forcing anything. Such a good teacher.

When he felt ready enough, Wylan tipped with his tongue on Jesper’s lower lip and the sharpshooter opened his mouth and let their tongues touch timidly at first, the merchling experiencing all of that for the first time and taking his time to get more confident. He let out a shaky breath, insecurity already taking place in his body, but Jesper felt that and cupped Wylan’s face in his hands, gently brushing his cheeks with his thumbs and feeling his muscles relax.

Wylan summoned some courage then and deepened their connection, dancing in Jesper’s mouth, pushing forward for more contact, letting his instinct take control over his overthinking mind. He put his hands on Jesper’s chest and he pushed him with his back against the wall, something new blossoming in his chest, some unknown desire running down his spine. 

Wylan felt good. It wasn’t just the kiss - he had no experience, sure, but he was pretty sure he was making a pretty good job. The whole situation felt right: the fact that the lips he was kissing were Jesper’s, the fact that the body he was trapping between him and the wall was Jesper’s, just Jesper himself. It was all right because Jesper was the one there with him. And Wylan was starting to think it wasn’t because they were good friends. Almost definitely not.

On the other hand, Jesper was in a total black out, error 404, not found: he was lost in Wylan’s lips and he wasn’t going to look for a way back, he was just focusing on their moment, there and now, on Wylan’s sudden bravery, on the warmth of his body, on the sweet flavour of his mouth. He didn’t know what was happening - or better: he did, but he was too busy to focus on what his actual feelings towards his friend were. 

When Wylan pulled away, desperately looking for some oxygen to send to his lungs, Jesper leaned his forehead on Wylan’s, eyes closed, and he laughed: “Well, damn well done, I’d say. Looks like the student bested the teacher”

Wylan laughed, his cheeks already pink for the kiss, then leaned one hand on Jesper’s cheek, meeting his gaze: “That felt good. I think I’ve learned something, after all”

Jesper cleared his throat, then said in a whisper: “Gotta be honest, I’ve never had such a great kiss”

“Must be because I used your technique and you think you’re the best” answered Wylan, smiling.

“Well, I do love myself, but...” Jesper didn’t break the eye contact and smiled back “I don’t know what happened, but that wasn’t me. You were passionate, for sure, but there was something... I don’t know, soft? It was your kiss, your way to do it. Turns out you’re a natural”

Wylan laughed: “For what it’s worth, I think I was able to be myself just thanks to you”

“Well, then you should...” Jesper hesitated “Try it with someone else?”

The merchling studied the Zemeni carefully: he looked reluctant at the thought, he... didn’t want him to kiss someone else? He smiled, thinking about how his own heart raced, how his own body longed for that contact with Jeper again and again. Wylan also thought about how Jesper had reacted to his kiss, about what he’d just told him. 

What if the hearts going crazy in that room were two?

Wylan grinned then, an eyebrow raised: he took a step forward and he reached Jesper’s face, stopping a few inches from his lips: “What if I wanted to kiss you again? And not just to practice?”

Jesper softly laughed: “Saints, you’re savage, Van Eck, I’ve unleashed a beast”

“You-”

Wylan couldn’t finish because this time Jesper kissed him first. He smiled in their kiss, and they both felt as good as they never had before. 

He’d learned well, after all.

[spiderling-space]

I said this just as a passing thought but then I wanted to explore it more so I divided into 4 parts.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

MC is poor and Crowley doesn’t give them enough money to compensate what they need and desire. There ain’t a good place with good working conditions for them as well. But New Year is coming and the need for new year’s calendar is rising. So MC borrows money from Kalim as the capital for creating homemade calendars. But regular calendars won’t bring much money so MC is going to take suggestive and sexy photos for each month just like those sexy firemen or bikini model calendars and sell them. All students minus Ortho who isn’t included are assumed to be +18.

👑🏹Pomefiore🍎🗡

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

Vil Schönheit

Vil is highly aware of current trends and what is going on in the NRC. So when he hears there is a new calendar done by (Y/N) that is popular at NRC. He wants to know why and how it became the most trending topic.

He hears it has to do with interesting pictures of (Y/N) on the calendar so he can’t go and check it out personally so he sends Rook to get him one.

Rook brings him the calendar, Vil asks to be left alone. When alone, Vil starts going through every page, paying attention to all the details from the angle of the photo to the makeup of (Y/N). The whole photoshoot could have been better but he supposes it is enough for a baby potato.

Vil is impressed by (Y/N)’s boldness and how they use their body to earn money. He tells Rook that he disposed of the calendar meanwhile he actually keeps it in his bedside drawer. He will check it out when he wants to destress though no one but he will know about it. He has an image to keep. He also wants to make comments on how to dress better, better makeup and photo angles to (Y/N) but then they would know he keeps the calendar.

🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹

Rook Hunt

Rook was ecstatic about what Vil asked him to buy (Y/N)’s calendar. He was observing people and their reaction to it and he has seen some of the pictures when other students were flipping through the pages.

He buys one for himself when he goes to buy one for Vil. Rook says that he will scrutinize each picture to (Y/N) while making eye contact, which causes (Y/N) to laugh nervously.

After Rook delivers Vil’s calendar to him, he goes back to his room. He starts with January and his eyes roam on every detail. He memorizes their figure, then he moves on the other months, spending minutes on each one, learning every part of (Y/N)’s body. He also thinks December one is extra charming, maybe they had done it for him.

Rook find all pictures beautiful and writes a poem for each one of them about how he sees them and how they make him feel. He will sign those poems to (Y/N) when he sees them next time whether or not they are alone. He thinks they can be of use to spend his alone time other than hunting.

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

Epel Felmier

There weren’t many people around Epel’s age in his village and his parents didn’t tell him about this type of stuff. He hears people talking about (Y/N)’s calendar and thinks it is just a calendar, not knowing what type of calendar it is.

He buys one for himself as a way to support (Y/N). He doesn’t even check what is in it and walks back to his room.

He was planning to throw it to a corner of his room and never look at it since calendars are useless nowadays but at the same time, he didn’t want (Y/N) to hear he threw away their work to trash so it would have stayed in his room forever. Then he hears his classmates and dormmates teasing him about it, how he is into that stuff yet not looking like someone who would be into that.

Epel checks the content right then and there which causes his cheeks to flare. He rushes to his room and tries to calm down. After cooling off, he again looks at their pictures. He thinks he shouldn’t look at them and have certain thoughts but he can’t help himself. He will not mention this to anyone but he is certain Rook knows what he does on Epel’s free time with that calendar.

💀Ignihyde🔥

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Idia Shroud

Idia doesn’t really care what happens in NRC as long as he or Ortho isn’t concerned. He learns about the existence of (Y/N)’s calendar during the online gaming session with his dormmates. He certainly knows what type of calendar they are talking about since he has the same thing for anime characters.

He isn’t one to follow trends but it is about (Y/N) so he wants to buy one for himself but he can’t send Ortho to buy for him and (Y/N) doesn’t sell online. Henceforth, Idia walks out of his room at night, thinking that there would be fewer people but he was wrong. He waits around Ramshackle until the crowd is dispersed then he knocks on the door and extends the money while asking for the calendar. The less interaction is better for him.

Idia dashes back to his room the second be buys the calendar. Since Ortho is in the room, he hides it in his coat. He doesn’t take off his coat until Ortho goes to sleep mode. He then goes under his blankets and turns on the small light he made to read manga at night.

Idia knows he is getting off by just taking a peek at the pictures but he can’t help it. Once he is done with the whole calendar, he hides it where his hentai and playboy calendars are. Since there is a chance that Ortho waking up because of his erratic breathing and fast heartbeat, he can’t take any action so he just goes to take a cold shower to get rid of the tent in his pants.

He will make sure Ortho will never see or hears about the calendar so he will pull a Black Mirror on Ortho.

🐲Diasomnia🐉

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

Malleus Draconia

Malleus never knows what is going on in NRC since he keeps to himself most of the time and at other times, he is not invited to things. He usually finds out things from Lilia.

He goes to Ramshackle in the middle of the night, as usual, hoping to see (Y/N). (Y/N) sees him and comes to his side with something on their hand. They greet each other and then (Y/N) offers him what they are holding asking if they want to buy their homemade calendar. Malleus doesn’t use calendars made by humans since fae’s and human’s concepts are different but he agrees to buy. They say it is nothing personal as they just try to make living.

Malleus wonders how human calendars look so when he transports to his room, he starts looking at it. His eyes widen as he has never seen this much explicit content before which would be considered inappropriate in The Valley of Thorns. He knows he shouldn’t look at those pictures but he can’t help himself as he checks out each page countless times. He puts the calendar on his desk in his room.

Malleus asks Lilia if what he feels is what he was taught about mates and mating and he patiently listens to Lilia’s answer. He also orders Lilia to buy every single copy of this calendar since he thinks (Y/N) is only doing this to “make living”.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia knows what’s going on the second sales blow up and he knows the nature of the calendar. He is amused by what humans can create and impressed by (Y/N)’s bravery.

He is one of the first ones to buy. He teleports in front of all the customers and hangs upside down as he asks for one copy for himself and for Silver and Sebek. He hopes Malleus will find out this by himself.

Lilia gets back to the dorm and gives the gifts to Silver and Sebek and just teleports to his room. He has seen them all and has done them all. He wonders if (Y/N)’s picture will have an effect on him.

Lilia is amused that the pictures managed to stir something in him and is going to use them for his personal destressing time. Lilia will ask (Y/N) to make the following year’s calendar too in case they won’t be in Twisted Wonderland for it.

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Silver

Silver isn’t aware of what’s going on in the NRC as he was spending his time sleeping or guarding Malleus.

When Silver was eating a snack, Lilia comes and gives him a calendar. He asks why he would buy him such a gift since they don’t need one but Lilia disappears without answering.

Silver takes it to his room when it is night time and he is going to sleep properly in his bed. He prepares for bed, taking the calendar with him to check out his gift. He freezes when he sees such lewd pictures of (Y/N). He wonders what he father wants him to do with this. He received The Talk from him but he is unsure of what to do.

Silver falls asleep while looking at the pictures. His dreams are filled with those pictures where Silver and (Y/N) do certain things. Silver wants to talk about this with his father but he forgets the plot of the dream.

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Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek doesn’t care what that magicless human of Ramshackle does. He just focuses on guarding Malleus. He doesn’t care to know what the calendar fuzz is about.

He cannot refuse a gift from Lilia even if the gift is the homemade calendar. Lilia tells him to use that as a way of destressing and that he is likely to become less uptight after using it.

Sebek takes this advice to the heart. As soon as he is done with his knightly duties and has eaten dinner. He promises Lilia that he will use it throughout without knowing what that actually means.

Sebek opens the calendar and drops it when he sees the first image. He recalls The Talk he received from his father and knows what Lilia meant when he told him to use it. He considers it as an order and starts to work on it. He doesn’t want to admit that it actually helped him to relax. Yet, when Lilia sees him the next morning, he knows what Sebek did.

[madamewriterofwrongs]

my sweet darling - how about an armed forces 911 AU? Maybe Eddie meets Navy Seal Buckley overseas? Maybe they meet back stateside at the VA?

You, my darling, always send me such fun and interesting prompts. I promise I didn’t forget. 

Ooh, okay. Let’s see...

Prompt Me with AUs

Delta X-Ray (I am Sinking) 

Read on Ao3

Eddie first sees him as he’s getting off the plane in Washington. He’s going to receive a medal. Apparently his work in Bagram made him a hero and not a broken, shell of a man. Who knew. And really, it’s just a glance because he has other things to worry about besides a Navy man getting dressed down by his captain. He doesn’t need to hear what’s being said to know that’s exactly what’s happening. He’s seen that look too many times, felt the hot breath of his superior as they spat harsh words meant to ‘toughen him up’.

As he passes the sailor, he hears something to the effect of “if it happens again, you will be dismissed.” And Eddie wonders how many times this particular man has received this exact lecture. It doesn’t really matter, anyways. He just wants to get his medal, shake a few hands of politicians who think they had anything to do with his ‘accomplishment’ and go home to his wife and child – ex-wife, he reminds himself. Shannon had the papers shipped to Afghanistan. Couldn’t get away fast enough, his mind bitterly supplied. All he would have at the end of the day was his son, and a medal to replace the wedding band he’d worn since he was 19.

Before he knows it, he’s standing on a small stage, a million lights flashing in his eyes as cameras and stage lights practically blind him. His shoulder aches – out of the sling for the afternoon so he can at least look more put together than he feels – and he’s dizzy from the attention. That’s his excuse for why he doesn’t recognize the man standing beside him.

“Seaman Petty Officer First Class Evan Buckley.” A blond man steps forward and Eddie catches himself staring at the dress whites and stone expression for longer than is strictly necessary. He seems a far cry from the officer being scolded less than an hour ago, but it is definitely him. And he was standing on stage beside Eddie, about to receive a medal of his own.

“For distinguishing oneself by heroism not involving actual conflict with an enemy of the United States, Petty Officer Buckley is awarded the Navy and Marine Corps Medal.”

As he watches the stripes being pined on the officer’s lapel, he lets himself wonder what crime the man could have committed to be dressed down and rewarded in the same afternoon.

He’s so curious, in fact, that he nearly misses his own name amongst the titles thrown around.

“Staff Sergeant Edmundo Diaz.” He steps forward, holding his breath until the entire ordeal is finally finished. “For gallantry in action against an enemy of the United States, Staff Sergeant Diaz is awarded the Silver Star.” The medal is heavier than he anticipated, but he supposes that makes sense. It is quite a burden he’ll be carrying around, and now he has a gold star to go with it – he wants to chuckle at the irony of his ‘Silver Star’ actually presenting as a golden one.

It seems everything about his life is a life.

There were a lot of reasons Eddie hated attending events like this: The politics, the bravado, the crowds of people ‘thanking him for his service’. Mostly, though: he never knows anyone. Sure, he can charm a senator or two for a few minutes, swap stories with other officers from other divisions about where they were and what they saw. But those are fleeting relationships, meant to get him through the day. He’ll go back to his hotel room at the end of the night with no more friends than when he’d stepped off the plane in this awful, awful town. Eddie is tired of ‘schmoozing’. With any luck, today will be the last time he has to tell the governor’s wife how lovely she looks in her dress.

That’s when he spots the man sitting at the edge of the bar like he’s trying to hide from the world, and he decides to make his way over.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He asks, even as he sits down.

The other man’s eyes light with recognition – and damn, are they as blue as the sea. “Not at all. Diaz, right?”

“Eddie.” He supplies, raising a finger to the bartender to snag his attention. If he is going to make it to the end of the evening, he’s going to need one, good drink. “And you’re Buckley.”

“Actually, it’s Evan but you can call me ‘Buck’.” His amusement must be evident because his new drinking buddy supplies the answer. “There are a surprising amount of ‘Evan’s in the Navy.”

It had never occurred to him to check how many ‘Eddie’s were in his squadron. Maybe he should ask his CO if that’s why he always called him by his full first name.

“Congratulations, by the way.” Buck looks somewhat nervous even as the words leave his mouth. “On your medal. Good job.”

“Oh.” Is all Eddie can bring himself to say as he stares into the bottom of his glass. “Thanks.”

“You don’t look too happy about it.”

He really isn’t doing a good job of hiding his emotions if this relative stranger ca read him so easily. “No, I-” he takes a deep breath to recalibrate his thoughts and paste his best fake smile. “It is a great honour.”

“Bullshit.” Buck laughs in his face but for some reason, Eddie doesn’t bristle nearly as hard as he expected. It almost feels playful. The rest of Buck’s response is cut off by his buzzing phone on the counter. The man quickly grabs it long enough to check his notifications, returning it to its place at the bar with a disappointed look.

“Are we keeping you from something?”

“Uh, no.” It’s Buck’s turn to look caught out and in need of recalibration. His expression changes much slower. “I’m just waiting for a call from my sister. I sent her an invitation to this thing but she never responded.”

Eddie has experience with family not coming to big social events like this one. Of course, in his case, he never invited them in the first place.

“Family ain’t easy.” He shrugs as he takes a long sip of whatever burning liquid he’d ordered – it really doesn’t matter so long as he can stay sitting here and not mingling with the crowds of vultures.

“It’s more than that.” Buck looks worried, and the way he bites his lip is… Eddie shouldn’t be focusing on that. “It’s just…” The man shakes his head, dismissing whatever feelings were eating at his gut. “I don’t want to bore you.”

“Please.” Eddie leans into his space with a playful smile. “It can’t be any more boring than this event. Please try to bore me to tears, if you dare.”

When Buck smiles, Eddie’s heart flutters out of his chest and sits beside him as they listen to Buck begin to speak. He tells Eddie about his sister, how she cared for him growing up, how she went away with her asshole of a boyfriend – now her deceased asshole of a husband – leaving him to fend for himself. He talks about travelling the country, trying every odd job he could get his hands on, until a buddy of his suggested he join the Navy. And he loves the work, he really does, but he hasn’t seen his sister in over a year. Their last conversation ended in a fight about some family secret that Buck is reluctant to talk about. Even Eddie can tell that the man just misses his sister. No matter what the argument was about.

Eddie finds himself talking – in less detail – about Shannon and the divorce and his son at home. At Buck’s prompting, he shows off his favourite photos of Christopher (avoiding the one burning a whole in his shirt pocket, torn and bloody, which never leaves him). The man’s face positively lights up when he sees the kid, offering an appropriate amount of sympathy for his divorce without pushing him for more emotions.

It’s easy talking to Buck, he realizes after a few hours. Because suddenly, the venue rental is nearly up and he’s still sitting at the corner of the bar, talking to Buck. Sure, a few people have passed by and shaken their hands, thanking them for their service – Eddie cringes every time and Buck has to hide his laughter once he realizes – but for the most part, it’s just the two of them, sitting and talking.

“The flag signalling we use now was established in 1855.” Buck explains as he leans further into Eddie’s space. “And while Robert Morse invented Morse Code in the 1830s, the International Morse Code that we use didn’t come out until the 1850s.”

“How do you know all of that?” Eddie was fairly certain he hadn’t had to study the history of communication when he was in training. But he’d also been very focused on his medical textbook.

Buck was incredibly cute when he blushed, Eddie decides – though he opts to keep that opinion to himself for now. “I get bored and I read.” The man shrugs nonchalantly, as though he hasn’t been entertaining Eddie with stories of Naval history and his own dumb-ass mistakes all evening. Honestly, Eddie wants to sit here all night and listen to Buck tell him stories of the world. It seems like he’s lived a lifetime already. And what has Eddie done? Gotten a girl pregnant, joined the army, gotten shot, and now he doesn’t even have a wife to go home to.

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie realizes too late that Buck looks nervous. He thinks he probably wouldn’t have said yes if he’d noticed. “How did you get your medal?”

Now he knows he doesn’t have to answer – and his initial instinct is to close out his tab and see if he can run to El Paso on his still-injured leg. But he also realizes that he hasn’t told anyone since it happened. Not the full story. Even now, he might not have the words. But he tries.

“Our helicopter got shot down while transporting wounded. I could still move so I got everyone out. Or I tried to get them out.” The echo of gunfire is not as distant as the others told him it would be. He can still smell it. “Support finally arrived and they decided to give me a medal for holding down the fort.”

Buck places a gentle hand over his and Eddie gasps, reminded that it has been a very long time since anyone has touched him. God, how he misses it.

“You saved wounded soldiers in the middle of the desert while being fired on. And you think you were just doing your job?”

“I’m an army medic.” He reasons with the bottom of his glass. “It’s my job to save people.”

“Maybe. But I don’t think that’s why you do it.” Without elaborating, Buck smiles at him and Eddie forgets the question.

“What about you?” He asks instead. “What’s yours for?”

Unlike the enthusiastic, bubbly personality he’s been talking to for the last few hours, Buck melts into the face he saw up on that stage. The stoic, professional.

“We were on our way back from an escort mission when we encountered some rough seas. I happened to be on deck with the chief mate when he had a stroke. I tried to tend to him but the storm was getting worse and no one could find the captain, so I just took over navigation. It was rough, I had no idea what I was doing, but we all made it out safely and the chief mate was okay.” As Buck shrugs, memories of an overheard conversation come flooding back to Eddie’s mind.

“Wait, were you on the USS Angelo?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Eddie can’t believe it. He has to laugh. “You were the cadet who sailed out of Hurricane Ida?”

“I am a petty officer first class, I’ll have you know.”

“Buck, you navigated a 2,000 ton ship out of a hurricane and all they gave you was a lousy medal?”

“I should get that printed on a t-shirt, or something.”

“That was incredibly reckless but also incredibly brave. Buck, you’re a hero.”

“I was just doing my job.” The smirk tells Eddie he knows exactly what he’s doing but it still hits him that he’s throwing Eddie’s words back in his face. Cute and cheeky.

He doesn’t know why he asks – well, he does, but it’s incredibly stupid and impulsive, and he definitely can’t blame it on the alcohol but he sure would like to.

“How long are you in town?”

Buck looks pleasantly surprised by his question but answers with regret in his eyes. “I head out with the Fifth Fleet in the morning.”

Wow. “You just got a medal, and you’re headed out to earn another one?”

“Something like that.” Buck laughs and Eddie wishes he was braver than he felt. “But I won’t be gone forever. And I’m really good at telegraphy if you wanted to send anyone a message.”

He’s so grateful that Buck has the good sense to be everything he needs right now. Because asking the next question is easier with someone standing next to him. “I suppose I’ll need a way to get in touch with you, then.”

Buck winks and Eddie has never been gladder that the concept of ‘standing’ was only metaphorical. The man should not be so irresistible after only a few hours, but Eddie can’t help but watch him push off his barstool and walk around the side of the bar.

“Hey, Diaz!” The spell is broken long enough for him to look across the room at where his name is being called. He waves at old friends – well, Senior Airman Han and Space Force First Sergeant Wilson are the closest things he has to old friends but in actuality, he’s not sure he knows their first names. “We’re going to the afterparty, want to join?”

On a normal night, Eddie would decline on the basis that he doesn’t want to go, and would rather lay in bed and watch reruns of ‘Murder She Wrote’. Tonight, Eddie wants to decline on the basis that he doesn’t want to go, and would rather stay up all night talking to someone who makes me feel curious about the future.

“Not tonight.” He shouts back across the room. “I’ll catch you at the next ceremony.”

They wave him off because they know it’s the same excuse he makes every single time but the only thing that matters is getting back to Buck.

“So.” He turns to the bar only to find it empty. The seat beside him is also unoccupied, as is any of the space surrounding him.

Had he dreamed up Buck? Had he been imagining this person who made him feel like divorce wasn’t his last chance at happiness? Was he truly so desperate and lonely?

“Hey.” Eddie looks up with too much hope in his eyes to only come face-to-face with the bartender. “He left this for you.” The man – who is not Buck, no matter how much Eddie hopes to see those eyes again – slides a napkin across the counter and walks away before Eddie can ask anymore questions.

He picks up the napkin and reads the blue ink-stained note written in messy scrawl.

Kilo

--... .---- --... ..... ..... ..... -.... --... ----. .----

The dots and dashes he recognizes as a series of numbers – a phone number, he hopes – but the word above? He tries to recall his academy days.

Kilo. Short for Kilogram. Used in the International Code of Symbols to represent the letter ‘K’. In Maritime Signal Flags, it indicates: I wish to communicate with you.

He’s pretty sure the bartender hates him for how late he stayed and how loudly he laughed at Buck’s note, but he can’t bring himself to care. Instead, he spends his energy memorizing the napkin’s contents long after he’s input the number. It’s more than just a piece of paper: it’s hope.

[baby-blossoms]

Potent

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 3,795

Summary/Request: “I don't know if you write for Harry Potter, but can you do a fic about Draco Malfoy if you do? It doesn't have to be anything specific, I just love your writing!” - Reader smells Draco in the Amortentia potion without realizing it’s him. 

Warnings: Light cursing

     You were exhausted from staying up all night writing an essay for charms class over simple things your father had taught you ages before you had started your sixth year at Hogwarts. You couldn’t say that you were extremely talented in every subject you took at the great school of witchcraft and wizardry, but charms came naturally to you. Your mother was an outstanding Auror, and your father also worked for the Ministry of Magic. You were never fully informed on what exactly he did. His job was clearly out of the ordinary, as he never spoke about it. He was always out at odd hours for work, but you never questioned it. You were just happy that they both came home safe every night. 

    You couldn’t say that your family was thrilled when they found out you were a Slytherin. The family came from a long line of Ravenclaws on your father’s side and Gryffindors on your mother’s side. They were baffled as to how you found yourself placed among Slytherins. Nevertheless, they were proud of you and how hard you were working toward being one of the top students of your class,

    “Another reason I believe you should have been placed in Ravenclaw! Perhaps you could consult with the headmaster about the matter, Y/N?” 

Your mother had said once. You rolled your eyes at her all those years ago and simply replied,

“The sorting hat never makes mistakes, mama. You know that. Being a Slytherin may not have been what you wanted or expected, but it is my destiny.”

    You withdrew yourself from the memory as you tuned back into your friends chattering away about the latest gossip among the school. Some people you had never heard of were getting back together for the third time this year. It was impressive how often a couple could split and get back together in the span of a few months. 

    “Y/n, do you fancy anyone?”

Your friend Danny asked, knocking his shoulder together with yours and raising an eyebrow in curiosity. You rolled your eyes and slapped him on the arm lightly with a book you were carrying.

    “You know I don’t have time for a relationship, Danny.”

Danny gave a long drawn out sigh and motioned to a girl in blue and bronze robes passing by.

    “Honestly, you should’ve been holed up with those stuffy Ravenclaws.” 

You shot him an annoyed glance and replied.

    “Ravenclaws are not stuffy, Daniel. They value intelligence, I can’t imagine why you weren’t placed there.”

Danny snorted out a laugh,

    “There it is! Every time I annoy you, I’m reminded why you were put in Slytherin. It’s the wicked sarcasm alone, I think.” 

Another one of your friends chimed in,

    “Have you seen her magic in action, Danny? It's the power, not the sarcasm. Salazar Slytherin valued powerful, cunning students with pure blood, and the only family with more pure blood than hers is the Malfoys.”

    You didn’t comment, a part of you flattered by your friend's compliment toward your powerful magic. However, the prejudice toward purebloods among the Slytherin house still put you off a bit. Your mind wandered to the Malfoy family after a moment. They truly were a powerful and well-known family, but you knew from your mother’s mixture of anger and disgust when talking about Lucious Malfoy, they were not well known for good reasons. A chill ran up your spine when you thought back to the first and only time you had seen Lucious Malfoy in person.

     He towered over you, his eyes practically piercing into your soul when you accidentally bumped into him on Diagon Alley while buying supplies for your first year. Your mother had pulled you away from him as if he was infected with a highly contagious disease, and practically shoved you behind her. She had spoken to him for a moment, her voice friendly to anyone else’s ears, but you knew your mother. You heard how uncomfortable she truly was. 

    That was the extent of your interactions with the Malfoy family. Your mother had drilled it into your head that you were not to step foot near Draco Malfoy, let alone speak to him. She was terrified of what might come if you befriended, or worse, annoyed the young Malfoy. You had agreed, as if Draco would ever speak to you in the first place. He was far too concerned with himself and harassing Harry Potter for that. 

    The only thing that made avoiding Draco difficult at this point was not only that you were in Slytherin with him, but you also had almost the same schedule. Speaking of which, you realized you had passed your potions class, and quickly shouted a farewell to your friends as you doubled back and made your way into the room. 

    You gathered with the rest of the Slytherins. The class stood in front of a table that had four cauldrons upon it. One of the two you could smell from where you stood, and you found it almost intoxicating. Your eyes glazed over as you stared intently at the cauldron, and you were only brought out of your hazy thoughts of how exquisite it smelled when two boys entered the room. Harry Potter and his best friend, Ron Weasly. You scoffed quietly, annoyed that he could just waltz into class late and he seldom got any sort of repercussion for it. The one time you were late to Transfiguration Professor McGonagall made you write an essay on why punctuation is important for a witch or wizard to practice. 

   You glared at the two fighting over the last clean looking copy of the textbook and glanced to your right, feeling someone’s eyes on you. Your glare dropped immediately and was replaced by surprise and confusion at finding Draco Malfoy eyeing you with a small smirk. You felt a small blush spread across your cheeks. You had never fully looked at Draco before. His eyes were stone grey with flecks of blue toward his pupil, and his features were delicate yet sharp at the same time. But damn you had to admit he looked good in green. You found that you had been staring at him far too long, and abruptly looked away, turning back to Hermoine Granger. She stood in front of the cauldron you had been staring at earlier. 

    “It’s rumored to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them. For example, I smell freshly mowed grass and parchment, and spearmint toothpaste.” 

    She said before you were distracted once more. You felt as though he was watching you still. You couldn’t help but give in to your curiosity and steal another glance at Draco. His gaze had not shifted from you, and you felt another wave of heat across your cheeks. You weren’t used to catching the interest of any boy around Hogwarts, let alone the one boy you weren’t supposed to interact with whatsoever. 

    “Miss Y/l/n?” 

    You looked back to Professor Slughorn, he looked to you expectantly with an amused smile. Clearly you hadn’t been paying attention, and you felt your cheeks burn even hotter and you replied without hesitation.

    “I’m sorry Professor, I was distracted. Could you repeat the question for me?”

Slughorn chuckled and stated,

    “I was asking if you would like a turn in smelling the Amortentia potion? I saw that you were particularly transfixed with it earlier.” 

   You knew that if your cheeks could blush harder, they would. Making your way toward the potion, you tried your best to focus on speaking clearly as the scent practically grabbed a hold of you and begged you to taste the potion. 

   “I smell-” you paused for a moment, trying to figure out what had intoxicated your senses, “pomade, mint, apples, and...” 

You trailed off, there was one more scent, but you couldn't pinpoint what it was.

    “Yes, pomade, mint, and apples.”

You finished awkwardly. Slughorn smiled knowingly toward you, and gestured for you to return to where you had been standing earlier. You stalked back to your spot, refusing to let your embarrassment show in front of the class.

    Professor Slughorn continued on about Amortentia for a moment, then introduced how the student with the best brewed potion that day would receive a vial of liquid luck. You rolled your eyes, knowing for a fact that you would not be receiving the vial. Potions weren't necessarily difficult for you, but they were by far not your strongest point. 

    You ended up being right, of course. Though, to your surprise and slight annoyance, it was Harry Potter who received the Liquid Luck. You couldn’t deny that you were jealous, yet couldn't help a heavy eye-roll when he tried to take it from Slughorn’s grasp before he was done speaking. You reluctantly clapped along with the rest of the students after Harry was instructed to use his potion well, but your facial expression showed exactly how you felt. You appreciated all that Harry had done, and what he had been through, but what would he of all people need liquid luck for? He always seemed to manage fairly well without it. 

    You gathered your books and made your way out of the potions classroom, toward charms class. Breath caught in your throat as you were abruptly tugged into an empty corridor. Turning, and drawing your wand in defense, you were more than surprised to lock eyes with Draco Malfoy once more. You weren’t sure what to say in such an instance, as you never dreamed you’d be alone with him, let alone by Draco’s choice. 

    “Well, hello then.”

    You said. Draco eyed you carefully, his expression neutral as he introduced himself. 

    “I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy.”

You nodded in response, surprised once more by the fact he assumed anyone in the school didn’t know his name by now.

    “Yes, and I’m-”

Draco cut you off,

    “Y/n Y/l/n. I know.”

You nodded once more, not entirely sure where to go from there. He was the one pulling you into empty corridors after all.

    “Did you need something, Draco?”

Draco didn’t respond for a moment. He just stood silently, staring at you. His skin was practically flawless. It reminded you of a porcelain doll.

    “I realized we’ve never spoken before. We’ve been in the same house for six years, and we’ve yet to have a conversation.”

    You couldn’t help but feel confused once more.

    “Well, not to be rude, but it doesn’t seem that you talk to many people in general, aside from your… usual group.”

Draco quickly replied.

    “You don’t either.”

You smiled,

    “What, have you been watching me, Draco?”

Draco raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

    “It's a good habit to observe those around you, Y/n.”

You laughed lightly.

    “Well, then I’ll keep that excuse in mind next time I feel like staring at someone in class for a prolonged period of time.” you paused, noting how Draco’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “Speaking of which, I have a class to get you.” 

    You said, taking your leave from the corridor. Glancing back as you rounded the corner, you found that Draco was indeed still ‘observing’ you. Your thoughts raced as you jogged to charms class. You just couldn’t wrap your head around why Draco chose such an odd way to start conversation with you for the first time. Then your thoughts wandered to your mother, and guilt stabbed at your gut. To be fair, Draco had talked to you first, and realistically he had pulled you into a corridor without your prior knowledge. So, you hadn’t necessarily gone against her wishes. You had to admit you didn’t mind the short conversation with him, though. Draco seemed interesting. 

----- 

    The next few days were seemingly normal, aside from noticing Draco observing you more and more often. He was bold as well, and didn’t bother to look away most of the times you caught him. He was starting to become a true distraction to you. Of course, you couldn’t deny how attractive you found him. 

    You were making your way to the great hall for dinner, listening to Danny chatter away about the latest quidditch games and news regarding the Ministry. Almost all of your friends were seated by the time you found your way to the Slytherin table. Confusion and annoyance practically slapped you in the face when you found the spot you always sat in was occupied by a first year.

    “Not to be rude, but I’ve sat in this spot since my first year. So, if you wouldn’t mind moving, I would really appreciate it.”

    The first year turned to you slowly, and you wholeheartedly expected a sarcastic remark, but instead he said meekly,

    “I have to sit here.” 

You raised an eyebrow, 

    “Have to?”

You questioned. The boy nodded fervently, his eyes darting behind you. From the look in his eyes, you didn’t have to turn around to know who stood there. 

    “Why don’t you sit with me, Y/n? It seems every other spot is taken.”

Your suspicions were confirmed at the sound of Draco Malfoy’s voice. Turning, you stared at him in disbelief. 

    “Did you harass this poor kid into sitting in my spot, Malfoy?”

Draco glanced to the boy, then back to you, a smirk creeping across his lips. 

    “What makes you think I would do such a thing?” 

He said, eyeing you in amusement. You smirked back to him playfully.

    “I suppose I’m not that hungry either way. I think I’ll just make my way back to the common room to study.” 

Draco’s grin vanished, his eyes narrowing as you winked at him and stalked away. 

    Minutes later, you found yourself sitting in the Slytherin common room, staring out the window into the lake. You watched calmly as creatures of all kinds swam past, finding their fluid movements in the water soothing. The Slytherin common room was freezing as per usual, but you neglected to grab a sweater, instead opting to continue to watch the wildlife through the window. Your attention was drawn away from the lake when you heard another person entering the common room.

    “You’re not studying at all.” 

You turned to Draco as he made his way next to you, then went back to watching the lake. You shrugged, smiling lightly.

    “Are you cold?”

He asked, in almost a whisper. You looked back at him slowly, nodding your head in affirmation. 

    “It’s always cold in here.”

You sighed, once again turning to the lake. Draco didn’t respond, but moments later, a sweater was set down in your lap.

    “That should help.”

He said. You looked at him in shock. You would’ve never expected Draco to be the type to lend out his sweater. 

    As you put the sweater on warmth engulfed you, but that wasn’t your main concern. What threw you for a loop was how the sweater smelled. It smelled of mint, pomade, apples and cologne. Your mind started racing. There was no way you had been smelling Draco’s cologne in the Amortentia potion.

    “Sorry, I suppose I’m just not feeling well.” 

You whispered. Promptly standing, you walked quickly to your dormitory and sat on your bed. You spent hours convincing yourself that somehow you were wrong about what you had smelled in the Amortentia potion. However, the sweater that engulfed you in warmth and that same scent was telling you otherwise. 

---

    Just to your luck, in potions the next day, you had the opportunity to test your theory. Slughorn had brought the Amortentia potion back out for whatever reason. You were too anxious to pay attention to his explanation. He gave each student the opportunity to smell the potion if they’d like to test what scents attracted them. When it came to you, the scent had changed, however, not in a way you expected. The smell of Draco’s cologne was overpowering.

    You couldn’t tell whether you were delighted or terrified. Just imagining your mother's face if she found out Draco Malfoy was the first boy you ever had a crush on was enough to make you feel overwhelming guilt. However, when you saw Draco making his way toward the potion to smell it, you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping he would smell you too. 

    Shaking your head in annoyance at yourself, you looked down to the recipe for the potion you were supposed to be making that day. It seemed easy enough, but knowing yourself, you expected it to blow up in your face at any minute throughout the process. You tensed when you saw Draco walk past in your peripheral vision. Hope was still rearing its little head at the thought of what he might’ve smelled in the Amortentia potion, but you couldn’t let yourself be so distracted by him all the time. You would never get anything done. 

    Much to your surprise and elation, your potion came out perfectly. Slughorn praised you, as it truly was a rarity your potions came out decent, let alone perfectly. You glanced behind yourself, finding Draco staring at you with a look you had never seen him show before. Quickly turning around, your thoughts raced as to what he might’ve been thinking. You weren’t surprised to hear Slughorn praising a perfect potion from Draco moments later. 

    The minute class was let out, you practically sprinted out of potions. You had to find Danny and tell him everything. You raced to the Slytherin common room, searching for Danny anywhere within it. He clearly wasn’t in his usual spot, so you went to check his dormitory. When he didn’t answer the door, you sighed in annoyance and defeat. You couldn’t bother running around the entirety of Hogwarts looking for him, so you opted to wait for Dinner. 

    Making your way back to your own dormitory, you sighed once more, wondering how you should even address such a situation. You knew your mother would insist that you just stay a million miles away from the boy and let the feelings fade, but you knew deep down that you couldn’t force yourself to do so. Nevertheless, Draco was in all of your classes, and he was persistent. If he wanted to talk to you, or see you, there was no avoiding him. 

---- 

    You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, knowing it wouldn’t affect your scores too badly, and sat in your dormitory waiting for dinner to roll around. Draco’s sweater sat next to you on your bed, and you stared at it for what must’ve been hours. You never in a million years would have imagined that your thoughts and days would be so taken up by Draco Malfoy of all people. The single person your parents adamantly told you to stay away from. The pure irony of the situation would’ve made you laugh if you didn’t feel so guilty and confused.

    When dinner finally came, you went to leave your dormitory, only to almost immediately slam the door again. Draco was leaning against the wall outside of your room, clearly waiting for you. Fuck. You were right, after all. If he wanted to see you or talk to you, he made sure there was absolutely no way to avoid him. 

    After a moment of you dumbly standing there, holding the handle, there was a firm knock at the door. You leaned your forehead against the hardwood, not knowing what would come from you opening the door. Your mind was practically tearing itself to shreds, battling whether you should ignore him and act like none of this happened, or tempt fate and open the door for the platinum haired boy.

    “Y/n, you can’t just pretend you’re not in there!”

Draco called through the door. You cringed, still battling yourself on whether you should open the door or not.

    “You’re not even supposed to be in the girls dormitories, Draco!” 

You called back.

You heard a muffled laugh through the door. 

    “All the more reason for you to open the door before I get caught.”

You whispered a silent apology to your mother, and opened the door. 

    Draco’s grey eyes bore into yours, and he didn’t hesitate to walk into your room, closing the door swiftly behind him. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as he turned to you. With every step he took toward you, you took a step backward. Finally the back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and gave out from under you. You sat, staring at Draco as he made his way closer. His signature smirk made your blush burn even brighter.

    Your heart was racing faster than it ever had as he leaned over you, forcing you to lay back slightly. 

    “Tell me, Y/n. What was it that you smelled in the Amortentia potion?” 

You knew you couldn't hide how flustered you were as Draco asked you the one question you had hoped to avoid. You looked anywhere but him, still conflicted with yourself. 

   You had to hold in a shaky breath when Draco grabbed your chin, purring,

    “Look at me.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. 

    “Now tell me, what did you smell in the potion, Y/n?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you responded.

    “You.” 

    Draco smiled fully for the first time as far as you had ever seen. Soon his lips were pressed firmly against yours. He tasted partially of how smelled, like peppermint and green apples. As he pulled away slightly, you let out a shaky sigh, and felt his breath fan across your face. 

    “Is it too bold of me to assume what you might’ve smelled in the potion, then?”

You asked in a whisper. Draco chuckled, shifting slightly to grab something behind you. His icy eyes analyzed you for a few more moments before he pulled you into a softer, shorter kiss. You leaned forward, bringing one hand to his hair, running your fingers through it. You had wanted to do that for days now. Draco’s lips quirked up, smiling against yours. 

    When he pulled away, the sight of him nearly made you choke. His hair was ruffled in a way you found so deliciously attractive, and his lips slightly swollen from the kisses you had shared.

   “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, Y/n. I just wanted my sweater back.”

He lied easily. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled softly, then continued.

   “Your perfume is quite potent, though.” 

He winked at you, making your heart flutter, then took his exit. 

    You didn’t care what your parents would think. There was no way you could stay away from Draco Malfoy.

[captainrexisboo]

Shameless Flirt

Hey hoes! I’m (partially) back!!!

I had a sudden burst of writing inspo. I am very excited to finally give y’all my long awaited Hevy X Reader fic!! I loved writing this, Hevy was so fun to get into the head of. I was going to post this yesterday but then (of course, right as I wanted to start posting again lmao) Life Happened aHA-

Anyways! The Reader Is A Lady (although, it’s not really specified aside from she/her pronouns. still tagging it as female reader though)! No warnings apply, just a lot of flirty banter and a bit of smoochin! Reblogs, replies, and comments are highly encouraged. I love hearing from y’all! Enjoy!!!

~

Technically, it was your day off. However, being the workaholic you were, and bored just sitting in your quarters, you decided the best course of action was to pick up some things you had left at one of your workstations in the ARC training sector...like the stopping point of your last project. You waved and smiled past the guards and troopers patrolling the halls, the vode knew you so it’s not like they were surprised when you strolled through the stark fluorescent halls in your lounging civvies you brought from Corrie. It’s not like you didn’t do this every other off day. It’s not like they haven’t tried to stop you- but not even ARC Commander Blitz could give you orders to go relax as you hunch over another blaster, detonator, or even some type of launcher, without you grinning like a cheeky loth-cat, “I am relaxing, Commander.”

After the first few months of working alongside Blitz, he came to understand that nothing was going to come between you and your work. At least nothing short of the consequence of you kicking and screaming all the way back to your quarters. So he let you be. “Don’t mind her, boys, that’s just our weapons tech. She’s always at the armory, or here in the target range. Think of her as a part of the training- don’t you dare get distracted.” Every new batch of ARC-trainees got told the same thing, and everytime you’d smirk into your work with a casual but polite wave over your shoulder, not even bothering to look back-

“And what about after training, Commander, will she still be ‘distracting’ up here?”

-until today. His shameless intention laced his words, and you could feel his eyes run up and down the curve of your spine, following the shape of your legs. You stood straight from your bent position over the standing turret, turning around with an unimpressed brow as you cocked out a hip, “I sure will, but you’ve got curfew to make, trooper.”

It was easy to single out the flirt, even if they were all wearing helmets. There were five trainees this time, four of them had their shoulders shaking as they choked back giggles with varying snorts and fake coughs at their brother’s expense. The one second from the end to your right seemed taken aback by your retort, spine stiff, and visor still looking at you dead on. You slid your eyes over to where Blitz was sighing and shaking his head, taking as step forward as he ordered, “Fives, thump your brother’s helmet for me.”

“Aye, sir,” Fives managed to breathe out the two syllables without breaking, but needing to clear his throat before swatting the upside of the flirt’s head, effectively taking his gaze off of you and immediately to the floor. Blitz made his way across the room to stand in front of the trooper, and even though they were the same height, Blitz carried himself in a way that made him seem to loom over the younger soldier.

“CT-782, you said your name was Hevy, right?” 

“Yes sir,” Hevy confirmed, voice coming out low, in a natural huskiness some clones seemed to have, as he stood even straighter, trying to mimic the Commander’s practiced stance. Blitz nodded a couple times, humming sagely- you recognized this though. He wasn’t thinking at all, he was just adding tension, the dramatic bastard. You couldn’t help but scoff silently at his demeanor as he took an inhale before continuing.

“I’ve read up about you and your brothers, soldier. The outpost at Rishi, getting recruited into the 501st, your entire batch surviving every fray, hells I just saw all five of you in action during the Separatist invasion just a couple days ago,” Blitz took a moment to exhale, something that could have been mistaken for a sound of intrigue, “You no doubt deserve to be here. An entire batch making it to ARC training? This hasn’t been done since the last batch made specifically to be ARCs themselves. But son-” in the pause, now you could never be sure, but you were positive in that moment you heard the grating clicking of Hevy grinding his teeth at the term, “-I don’t recommend playing with fire. Lucky as you all have been, even in ARC armor, you’ll get burned.”

Hevy stole a glance back at you, to which you gave him a mock salute with your screwdriver and a delightfully crooked smirk before turning back to your work.

Instead of taking his Commander’s words to heart as a warning, he took them as a challenge. From that day on, whenever he found himself in the same room as you (provided Blitz wasn’t there to reprimand him) he would try his hand to win you over. Admittedly, it was very fun to trade bouts of wit with him. He was a cocky brute, but held a sharp tongue. His hot-headedness made it especially entertaining to get him all riled up, teasing him back, only to give him a flick on the nose or a poke on his chest plate. Hell, there was one time you went as far as squeezing his bicep. Specializing in weaponry, especially the heavy duty kind, his arms were definitely impressive. How could you not take that chance? 

On the slower days, when he was too tired to even run his eyes over you, he’d still find you hunched over your workspace in the armory to watch you perform your task of the day. An arms specialist finding interest in a weapons technician’s work? Shocker. Still, being surrounded by the blasters and countless ammo and bombs in the armory, listening to the gentle clicks of your tinkering and watching your fingers go through repeating nimble motions over metal plates and little rivets did seem to put him at ease after a rough day. It was something you could much too easily relate to. Over the course of Domino squad’s ARC training, those days where he gave you quiet, warm company were your favorite.

Today was not one of those days.

You had been given a new assignment, transferring from the training base...to travel with the Domino squad once they graduated in the next few days. And it seems like they just got the message too. You rolled your eyes as you heard his low whistle from across the room, but from the safety of being turned around you couldn’t help a sly grin take over your face. 

“And what, praytell,” Hevy’s gruff voice fills the armory as his boots echoed off the walls with their weighted falls, like you could hear the sway in his step to the beat of his walk, getting closer to you as you continued to lean over your work table, “Did the Domino ARCs do to get a pretty little thing like you to be our weapons technician?”

“Oi, leave her alone, Hevy,” ever the gentleman, Echo tried to ‘defend your honor’ from the shameless flirt as he walked in not a moment later, “Unless you want her to issue herself for a transfer to a different band of ARCs? Keep talking to her like she’s some meat pie, see where it gets you.”

“Awh, thank you, Echo,” you cooed over your shoulder before pushing up your goggles to give Hevy a sugar-coated pout, “Eat shit, Hevy.”

Hevy knew this game, taking his helmet off he shot you a charming wink, before turning to his brother, “What other ‘band of ARCs’? We’re the only notable ones, all the other ARCs are in CO positions, or are riding it solo and getting contracted to separate battalions for separate missions every day! We’re the only full squad of-“

“Half a squad,” Echo interrupted, taking off his helmet to shoot his brother a criticizing arch of his brow, “You realize a full squad is nine soldiers, right? This stuff has been drilled into us since decanting-”

“Then why do they call us the Domino squad?”

“Rolls off the tongue better than Domino batch,” you grumbled into your work, slipping your goggles back on and trying to focus amidst their conversation, “Look, are y’all actually here for something, or-?”

You trailed off, continuing your practiced movements as you waited for an answer. Hevy leaned next to you on the table, careful not to jostle it, or you, with his weight. He had learned that lesson the hard way...some nights his shin still throbbed with the memory.

“We’re gonna celebrate, not just the graduation, but now with you getting to tag along!” Hevy’s unusual cheeriness made you pause in your work. You turned to him, about to say something when he continued, “And we want you to join in the celebration too, mesh’la.”

You blinked at him, surprised by his offer. Sure, you were friendly to the troopers, and Hevy seems to have gotten especially comfortable around you, but you didn’t think they’d want to invite you to something as special as that. You pulled the goggles completely off your head, setting down your tools as you turned around to lean against your table, “I’ll bite. What’s the catch?”

Echo and Hevy looked between themselves, before glancing at you with mirroring expressions of confusion. 

“Why do you want me to join?” you elaborated, bringing up a hand to count on your fingers, “You wouldn’t want me there unless you had a reason for me to join, what is it? Contraband liquor? Snacks? Do you want me to secure the armory for the get together so you don’t have to have it in the barracks, or my quarters, or what?”

“The catch,” Hevy took a careful step into your space, mimicking your new pose, giving you an amused if not surprised smile, “is for you to have fun, not surrounded by guns and ammo.”

“And that’s coming from Hevy,” Echo scoffed, but agreeing with a wide shrug of his shoulders as he crossed his arms. You looked between the two of them as the moment stretched out for what felt like a lifetime… for Hevy at least. All the times he spent with you, all the terrible flirting and unashamed eyeing- he really wanted you to join. He could feel sweat begin to creep down his neck, the longer he waited for a response, swallowing down a gulp of dry air as his gaze flicked nervously over to Echo. Echo simply rolled his eyes- all of Domino Squad knew about Hevy’s true feelings for you. It was hard not to take notice when Hevy was just, well, like that. But they never seemed to learn about Hevy’s quiet times in here with you, how you two would partake in silent togetherness, finding peace in each other’s company. Not that Hevy was embarrassed, far from it, but he liked having that little piece to himself. Of course, he wanted more of you to himself, but for now those comforting silences while you built and rebuilt blasters were enough for him, because they were enough for you.

You kept your gaze neutral as you weighed the option of joining in your mind. It was far from a bad option, you liked this batch. They had been through a lot together, loved and protected each other like brothers should, and along with Hevy they accepted you as one of their own. What was one night?

“Yeah, alright,” you looked between the two ARCs, a grin forming as you stole a glance at Hevy, “I’ll join in. When is it?”

Hevy could jump for joy at your agreement, but he was still leaning on your workspace. Instead he smiled wide, tattooed cheeks crinkling parallel to the corners of his eyes, letting out a relieving breath, “Tomorrow night, the eve of our first deployment as ARCs. Be at our bunks at 1930…and if you do have any liquor-”

“Hevy-”

“Of course I have liquor,” you interrupt Echo’s chiding with a wink to the heavy gunner, bringing your forefinger up to trace Hevy’s jawline, gliding along the sharp edge, the pad of your fingertip calloused from years of work, and swelling with pride at how his dark eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into your teasing touch. Coming off with a playful tap to the tip of his chin, his eyes snapped open at your sultry chuckle, “See you tomorrow, soldier.”

You turned back to your work, slipping your goggles on a final time, but not before a quick and casual wave over your shoulder, “Later, Echo.”

Echo couldn’t figure out your mood toward Hevy worth a damn. He looked between your aloof manners and Hevy’s moony grin, deciding it just wasn’t worth trying to pick your brain at, partially because he was smart enough not to get involved, but also he wasn’t certain he’d be able to stomach the answer. Catching his brother's eyes, he made a discreet gagging motion to him before fitting his helmet back on and walking out the door, “See you, techie.”

Hevy stayed back a bit longer, continuing to watch you work. He was completely quiet, but his silence was deafening. You breathed out a huff of laughter, the tops of your ears beginning to heat up at his attention, wetting your lips, “Well?”

“Hm? Well what?” he shook himself out of his stupor, blinking back into time at your voice.

“Are you gonna leave now n’ let me work?” You cursed inwardly at your harsh words. You liked Hevy, deep down he was a real sweetheart, but you always found yourself being so coarse to him. Thankfully, he was as much of a hardhead as he was a hothead, and he met your indifferent glare with a devilish grin that made your heart jump doubletime.

“No, I think I’m gonna sit right here and watch your lovely hands make something amazing.”

“Amazing?” you scoff, shaking your head at his compliment, “I’m just fixing up another DC-15A that some cadet broke. You need to head to the med station if you think that’s amazing. We both know the Z-6 rotary is far superior-”

“When you’re done with it, it’ll be the best DC-15A in the GAR,” Hevy interrupted, eyes shifting between your face and your hands, “Everything you do is amazing.”

You stopped what you were doing at the genuinity that filled his praise. He always spoke to you with a hint of truth, a bit of heartfelt sincerity to make his easy way of speaking more personal to you, more interesting. But there was something in his expression, maybe the dreamlike haze filling the depths of his eyes, or the way that his accent rolled off his tongue that had you placing your palms flat on the table before speaking low to him, “Hevy, what are you doing?”

“I thought I was pretty clear,” he shrugged with a sideways grin, still careful of the lean on your table, “I’m watching you. You’ve let me before-”

“I mean with the…” you gestured to his full self, keeping your eyes on your now resting project, “The whole...flirting thing.”

You caught him off-guard. The two of you have been at it for months now, but neither of you had ever said or acknowledged anything about it. It was like a silent pact between the two of you, continue the performance, but don’t mention the game. To suddenly come out of the unsaid arrangement, Hevy felt himself draw back, slowly lifting his weight off the table, “Do you...not like it? I mean I figured that you...you know, you’ve always responded…”

You couldn’t believe it. After always having something to say, being able to trade quips, building a friendship over the shared banter and ripostes, the fearless ARC trooper you’ve seen grow so much these past few months was babbling out broken sentences at a single question.

“I can stop, if you’d like.”

It was that whispered phrase that brought you back into the moment, turning to him with burning cheeks, “I didn’t say that.”

“Well then what do you want?” He took a step into your space, brow set and a jaw flexing as he frustratingly tried to understand your sudden shift, “We’ve been...flirting-” the word left him like he was saying it for the first time, each syllable carefully leaving his lips- “since the day I met you. Mesh’la, if you don’t like it, say something! We’re about to go to work together, travelling the galaxy for a long time-”

“Exactly,” you countered, poking at his chest as you stood defiantly to him, tearing off your goggles and mussing your hair off to the side, “Whatever this is, are we gonna continue it? Continue dancing around each other like some kind of goddamned soap opera where everyone but us gets off on our own self-denial?”

“Self-denial?” Hevy repeats, an incredulous sound leaving his chest as you saw a fire spark behind his stare, “Sweetheart, I’m not denying anything, especially things I haven’t been asked!”

“Alright then, fine!” Somewhere down the conversation, your voices had raised to shouting in the small space, even as you two stood almost nose to nose, and your breath hot on his lips you asked, “Do you like me, trooper?”

“Like you? It was love at first sight when you first told me off,” Hevy couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed at his confession, just focusing on fueling the flames between you, “And what about you, techie? How do you feel about me?”

“I think you’re a smartmouthed asshole with a heart of gold and a pretty face- yeah, I like you a whole fucking lot!” 

This was ridiculous. You knew it was ridiculous. You could see it in his face too, the two of you breathing heavy, barely a hair’s width away from each other. You’re unsure who started it, later on you two would always claim the other giggled first, but eventually you found yourselves holding onto each other for support as you laughed out the rest of your pointless venom. His arms fit around you perfectly as your hands held strong to his wide shoulders, your laughter filling the room together, the sounds swirling in their melody as everything started to click perfectly into place. Once everything quieted down, your head resting against his chest as his hands ran up and down your back, you exhaled low and steady against him, slowly rocking in his hold, “Plastoid isn’t that comfortable to rest on, huh?”

“You should try wearing it,” Hevy snorted at your comment, leaning over to rest his cheek on the top of your head, “So...what now?”

You hummed, feigning thought before angling your face to brush your lips over the column of his throat, murmuring into his skin, “I wouldn’t be against a kiss.”

Something rich left his throat, the sound deep and thrumming through his chest before one of his hands found its way into your tresses on the back of your head, tugging gently at your hair to guide you to his lips. You couldn’t stop the brief hitch in your breath at the daring move, but you wouldn’t have expected anything less from the brash soldier. At your word he took the lead, slanting over your mouth in a soft motion, breathing you in as easy as air. You followed in confidence, welcoming the boldness with which he kissed you as the same boldness that had him playing the game you both set up. A small noise of satisfaction left you, not just from the perfect pressure from his lips moving so softly against yours, but also from the way his hand gripped so firmly at your waist through your canvas jumpsuit, his other hand still carding so thoughtfully through your hair; it was a sweet little gasp that Hevy swore he’d be replaying in his head for a week. Or at least until he was able to make another sound tumble out of you.

Your hands came up to cup his cheeks, thumbs tracing the edges of his tattoos, pulling him impossibly closer. The payoff of this single kiss was absolutely worth all those months of gentle torture, the teasing touches and glances, discreetly watching his lips when he’d talk and thinking about how he’d feel against your own. Or even how he’d taste. In a stroke of your own audacity, you ran a slow, languid lick of your tongue against his lips, and the growl that came from him made the most delightful of shivers shoot right down your spine.

He had a robust, spicy taste, earthy and rich with a bit of heat that came tickling at your tongue. It wasn’t too surprising- he smelled the same way, smoky and hearty with the biting musk all clones seemed to carry with them. What did surprise you was the honeyed velvet of his own tongue eagerly coming to meet yours as you repeated your action. You could feel his infuriating grin at the helpless whimper that dripped from you at the feeling, and you nipped brazenly at his bottom lip in retaliation.

Before he could respond to your playful attack, the two of you froze as a throat loudy cleared from the entryway of the armory. Hevy almost didn’t pull away from you, a near silent broken whine coming from him (for your ears only) as he came off of your lips with a wet smacking sound. After a quick flex of his fingers, he removed his hands from you just as slowly, your own hands sliding down from his face to clasping behind your back. You both turned to face the bucket of Commander Blitz, arms crossed and stance wide in the doorway. He nodded toward the hall, “You left the door open.”

You cleared your throat, pursing your lips to keep from saying something ridiculous. Hevy clenched his jaw, trying to accomplish the same thing. Blitz’s visor smoothly slid to gaze over you, and you straightened in the mimic of his cadets. “You finally relaxing, techie?”

A short chuckle escaped you, lips twitching up in a coy grin, “I am, Commander.”

He nodded, that same dramatic humming leaving him as he turned then to Hevy, who tensed at full attention to the ARC Commander. “What about you, son. How’s that burn feel?”

“To be perfectly candid, sir,” Hevy, always pushing the limits, turned to shoot you a look with a quick lick of his lips before responding, “Absolutely thrilling.”

Blitz nodded again, taking slow steps into the room, like how Hevy had earlier that day, letting each step echo off the walls until he was about two feet away, “I’m happy for you both, but please. Don’t be stupid. You’re lucky it was me walking by and not one of the longnecks, or the nat-born chief trainers. Close the doors. And do me a favor, wait till you’re both off Kamino for any of the heavier stuff, okay?”

You and Hevy both confirmed the Commander’s request with quick nods and mumbled “Yes sirs,” making him let go a long breath. Uncrossing his arms, he pointed to Hevy, “Trooper, hit the showers. Move it.”

Hevy shot you one last look, if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was bashful, before saluting Blitz, grabbing his helmet and marching out of the armory. You stood straight, still under Blitz’s cold stare from his visor, until he sighed, slapping a companionable hand on your shoulder, “If he steps out of line, I better be the first vod you call. I will kick his ass so hard, he’ll be knocked back to failing the Citadel the first time-”

“At ease, Commander,” you rolled your eyes, you hand coming up to hold onto his, brushing your thumb over his knuckles with a soft breath of laughter, “He didn’t lay a hand on me until I asked him to.”

Blitz squeezed your hand, taking off his own helmet to look at you. He looked a little older than Domino did, cheeks slightly hollowed and eyes a bit deeper set, a bittersweet shine coming over his amber stare, mouth twitching up into a lopsided smile, “I’m gonna miss you, after you go off with those fools.”

“You’ll make great friends with the next techie who comes along. Who knows, maybe they’ll actually listen to you,” you smile back at him, the two of you masking the tears threatening to fall from your lashes. He pulls you in, touching your foreheads together, before giving two more pats to your shoulder.

“And remember,” he pulls off of you, placing his helmet back on and causing his voice to come out in a soft static, “Please, for the love of Jango, don’t-”

“Don’t be stupid,” you salute to him, winking for extra effect, “Aye-aye, ori’vod.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Love is a Bundle of Contradictions.

This artwork was a piece I commissioned from @shimmeryspark​!

... There is no explanation for this other than my friends encouraged me to write Valentine’s Day Raven and Jade fluff, since the main saga is a bit lot of angst right now. (Special thanks to @twstpasta since they let me borrow their twstsona for plot reasons :9)

Imagine this...

“You WHAT?!”

“Ehehe~ Sorry...!! I guess I went and made a bad decision, heehoo~” Mac stuck out their tongue and lightly bonked their own head with a fist. “Silly me~”

“Making a deal with Azul is the very definition of a bad decision,” Raven groaned, slapping a hand to her face. “I... I cannot believe you. Dare I ask what the conditions were?”

“I gave him my taste buds! He said he’ll give them back if you help out with stocking up on supplies for the Mostro Lounge.”

“That’s... suspiciously simple. And you really just handed over your taste buds just like that? You can’t taste your beloved cheese anymore.”

“I know!” Mac pouted. “It’s so sad, so you’ll help this rataroni out, right?”

“I find it odd that Azul is demanding my assistance, seeing as how I am not the one that made the deal with him to begin with. However... I cannot turn my back on a friend in need. I will lend you a helping wing—er, hand.”

“Sweet, sweet!!” Mac clasped Raven’s hands happily. “Just remember to show up this Sunday afternoon. Meet up’s in the town square. Oh, and be sure to wear something cute!”

“Something cute? Why would...”

“It’s part of the deal—so you just gotta, okay? That’s what Azul said!” Mac paused, before adding, “Oh, oh! And bring some homemade choco in a heart-shaped box!! That’s another contract condition!”

“Oh... O-Okay...?”

Raven leaned back against a lamp post, anxiously winding a finger around the string of small pearls at her collarbone. In her other hand was a bag, and in that bag, a heart-shaped box of homemade chocolates—just as Mac had told her.

A silver heart-shaped charm dangled from the necklace, lying still against her real hammering heart. Rarely did she venture out into the local town—and, standing there by her lonesome, the raven felt out of place and awkward.

An addendum to a story that had already been penned.

She watched as her silver charm caught a wink of sun and guided the light down its curve. Reflected back in the charm’s surface was the raven herself.

Today, her inky hair was cast up in a high pigtail and secured with a cobalt ribbon. She had traded her usual outfit for a pale blouse with billowy puff sleeves, white stockings, and a high waist skirt in a plaid pattern—cobalt, like her ribbons.

I hope this satisfies the conditions of the deal.

Raven checked the time on her phone; any minute now, Azul would be showing up, and they’d get this over with. Then she could return to her attic to roost, and Mac could return to feasting on cheese and inhaling poison—

“Oya. Do my eyes deceive me, or is that you, Miss Raven?” a silken cadence called out to her, rising above the hustle and bustle of the town.

“... You,” she responded flatly, narrowing her eyes at a certain eel as he parted from a crowd.

Ah.

Jade, too, had abandoned his typical uniform in favor of casual comfort. He wore a pair of dress pants and a grey turtleneck—and over it was a brown trench coat, unbuttoned to show off how snugly that sweater fit against his lean, muscular body.

Raven squinted. His earring was slightly different today as well. Rather than three diamond shaped sturgeon scales dangling from his ear, there were heart shaped ones. Blue and glassy, like the calm sea after a storm.

His hands were polite folded behind his back... hiding something. Whatever that something was, petals of pink, red, and yellow-orange were poking out.

If she didn’t know any better, she would have said he looked handsome—and innocent—enough. But she did know better.

“What are you doing here?” Raven demanded, no longer playing with her necklace. Her hands went to her sides, curling into balls.

“Fufufu. The town is a public space. I am free to come and go as I please, the very same as you.” Jade tilted his head to one side. “Although today, I am here on an errand. The Mostro Lounge is short on centerpiece supplies, you see. I have been sent to restock.”

“What a coincidence. I’m also here to help the Mostro Lounge restock,” Raven said, a bit of bitterness slipping into her voice, “as per a contract.”

Jade attempted to appear sympathetic—but he allowed a cruel chuckle to escape him. “I see now. I was not aware that you were the one indebted to Octavinelle, Miss Raven. Had I known sooner, I would not have hesitated to summon you to fill in for Kon-san’s morning shift.”

“I’m not a waitress for you to order around.” Raven jutted out her chin defiantly. “I’m here strictly on business, so if you would kindly leave me be...!!”

“I believe you said you had to assist the Mostro Lounge. Would it not be prudent, then, to go about tending to that duty rather than standing about and looking like a lost lamb?”

“Sh-Shut up! It’s not my fault that Azul is running late...!!”

“You were waiting for Azul?” Jade said, his brows pinching together briefly. “You are terribly mistaken. It is not Azul who is assisting you with the restock, but myself.”

“... Beg pardon?”

Wear something cute, bring homemade chocolates, Mac had said. And it has to be you, Raven, not me! But why? Slowly, slowly... The pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

A thought dawned on Raven:

I’ve definitely been tricked.

“Well!! That’s all fine and dandy, but I think I shall be on my way home now. I really must be having a chat with a friend of mine,” she babbled, turning on her heel. They’re going to be buried in tomato sauce when I get to them.

“How cruel of you to abandon those in need, Miss Raven. And to think that Mac-san shall be without their taste buds... and I, burdened with the task of restocking by my lonesome. What a tragic way to spend Valentine’s Day,” Jade exhaled deeply and wiped at an imaginary tear. “Shikushikushiku...”

Raven’s left eye twitched. “Don’t you paint me as the bad guy here...!!”

“Aren’t you?” Jade challenged, a smile still plastered on his face despite his mocking tone.

“Grrr...!!” She whipped around, thrusting an index finger at him. “Listen here... Leech!! The only reason I am even here was to help someone out of a contract your shady boss roped them into!”

“If you are as selfless and loving as you claim to be, then you should have no issues with shopping with me,” Jade countered smoothly. “After all, they say that actions speak louder than words.”

The little bird vibrated with irritation, her cheeks puffed out in a pout. Her stomach coiled tight, uneasiness brewing. As much as she hated to admit to it, he was right.

Raven clenched her teeth and sent a glare his way. “Fine...!! But I will be keeping an eye on you to ensure that there is no funny business!”

“Then by all means, ‘keep an eye on me’, and do not let your gaze stray for even a single moment,” Jade chuckled, somehow sneering through his smile. “I welcome it.”

The eel held out a hand to Raven. “We’d best not be separated while on our errand.”

She stared hesitantly. Her eyes flickered between his eyes and the hand he offered. Subtle changes in her expression occurred in rapid succession—the raising of her lids, the tremble to her lower lip, the tinge to her cheeks.

“... Yeah. We’d best not,” Raven finally agreed, her grip on her bag—the bag containing her chocolates—tightened. “Which is precisely why I will follow you at a safe distance.”

“Ah, but that would ruin the surprise.”

“What, the bouquet? You’re not exactly doing a masterful job of hiding it.”

“Nor are you doing well to hide your little surprise, Miss Raven.”

“I was deceived. This chocolate is not meant for you.”

“I didn’t say that it was, now did I?”

“... I’m going to eat them myself, then. That’ll show you!”

“Do with it what you wish, for selfish purposes or not,” Jade laughed, revealing his bouquet—all the colors of the setting sun. “These flowers, on the other hand, are meant to be gifted...”

He pushed the bouquet toward Raven. Up close, the flowers seemed even more vibrant and beautiful. Their warm hues enveloping the raven, enchanting her senses. Mesmerized, she reached out to accept the flowers—when Jade suddenly clicked his tongue and pulled them away.

“But alas—not to you,” he teased, pressing a finger to his lips. “Do try to keep up with me now, Miss Raven.”

Jade turned and dove into a sea of townspeople, leaving a trail of sunset-colored petals in his wake. And, like the fool that she was, a fuming raven stormed after him—chocolates still in hand. Heart quivering.

Terrariums—the flowers were meant for terrariums all along.

Jade had taken his sweet time leading her down a winding path and to an art supply store tucked away in a corner, and even longer to observe the shape and feel of each terrarium container. Spherical, cuboidal, prismatic... Holding up the bouquet every so often to compare how the flowers would look in each.

In the end, he had gone wild with his purchases, electing to buy a selection of shapes, along with other supplies—just to keep himself amused. Jade had paid with a platinum card embossed with Octavinelle’s logo. Mostro Lounge Master Cash Card, it read. Azul’s property; do not steal! Sign the loaning form if you must borrow.

It was all for the terrariums, for business as usual.

I should have realized sooner. Stupid, stupid, Raven scolded herself.

She grunted, struggling to carry the bagful of terrarium supplies that Jade had saddled her with, while he carried one of his own without any trouble. The eel cast her a mocking glance over his shoulder.

“Are you in need of a break, Miss Raven?”

Bite me, she wanted to snap back—but a bark of pain shot up her arms, silencing her defiance. “... M-Maybe.”

He sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “Very well. I see a café up ahead. We can rest there for a few moments, though it may require the purchase of a food item if we wish for a table.”

“Sounds peachy.”

Together, they swept through the café doors. The duo was immediately greeted by the smell of sugar and the hum of the other patrons, many of them couples.

Raven stiffened at the sight, turning a deep shade of red. Suddenly, she was very, very aware of how she—and Jade—looked.

“I think I changed my mi—“ Raven was cut off when he grasped her hand and held fast. She jolted back, her skin turning clammy. “Eeep! Wh-What are you...”

“Table for two,” Jade requested of an employee. “We do not intend to stay for a large meal, so just an ice-cream parfait will do.”

“Certainly, sir. Right this way.” The server quickly seated them, and with a bow, departed to retrieve their order.

“... You can let go of my hand now,” Raven hissed, attempting to free herself. To no avail, initially. She tugged again, and finally broke free, aggressively rubbing at her hand to ward off the residual eel cooties.

Jade chuckled, tucking his strand of black hair behind his ear. His earring glimmered in the afternoon sunlight pouring in through wide windows. “Play along. You are aware that today is Valentine’s Day, yes?”

“Yes, but I do not understand what that has to do with... physical contact, especially seeing as how we are not engaged in that kind of a relationship.”

“It is simple.” He laced his fingers together, resting his chin on them. With the most serene of smiles, Jade purred, “We should take advantage of the couple discounts being offered at eateries such as this. An excellent way to save on spending, especially after that particularly large purchase made on the Mostro Lounge’s coin.”

“You’re a shrewd one.”

“Why, thank you.”

Raven’s hands curled in her lap. Her lips pursed, she found her gaze trained on the white lace of the tablecloth, rather than on her dining companion.

Time and time again, she has been tricked today, told white lies. Teased and deceived. It was simply how he was—and though it did irk her in some ways, it also never made a moment dull.

Hot and cold. Push and pull. Bitter and sweet. That was Jade Leech.

“Your parfait is here!!” The server from before popped up in her periphery, startling the raven from her thoughts. They set it down and stepped back. “Here you are—enjoy your date!”

“Thank you. We certainly will,” Jade reacted before Raven could and dismissed the server with a wave. “... Well, let’s dig in.”

“You didn’t correct them.”

“We won’t get the discount if they don’t believe this farce,” he replied calmly, nudging the parfait and a spoon toward her. “Now then, less talking and more eating. You need your strength if you plan on helping me haul all the supplies back to campus.”

She let out a huff, but dug her spoon into a frozen mound. The parfait was massive, composed of several scoops of pink, blue, and green ice-cream, flanked by chocolate wafer bars. With a smattering of sprinkles, a crown of whipped cream, and a maraschino cherry on top, the dessert looked absolutely picture perfect.

Raven steadily brought a spoonful of pink goop into her mouth, allowing a sweet bubblegum flavor to spread across her tongue. Her eyes cut to Jade, who had not bothered to sample any for himself. He smiled back, gaze half-lidded as if recalling a fond memory.

“Have some, too. I feel weird eating it alone—and you must be hungry too. I know how big your appetite is.” Raven pushed the parfait glass toward him.

“If you insist.”

The head of his spoon sunk into a green scoop with shards of chocolate chip weaved throughout. It pulled away cleanly with a large mound, which was soon consumed. Then another bite, and a third, a fourth... Before Raven knew it, a good third of the parfait was missing.

Jade patted his mouth with a napkin, eyeing her expectantly.

“Are you still hungry?” Raven asked, eyebrows raising. She retrieved a scoop of blue this time—vaguely flavored like a medley of fruits.

“Perhaps... though I do not plan on taking more of the parfait for myself. Were I to, there would be none left for you.”

The fruit seemed to sour in her mouth. It was true that she was hungry, yes—but at the same time, she did not wish for Jade to be left dissatisfied.

She frowned, setting her spoon down and reaching into her bag. Seconds later, she produced a heart-shaped package and shoved it at him.

“Here, chocolates. They’re yours now, since I have no other use for them,” Raven mumbled insistently. “You can eat them now, or save them for later. Just hurry up and take them before I change my mind.”

“Oya, it is rather bold to profess your undying love to me in such a public space.” Jade teased, chuckling lightly into his hand.

“B-Be quiet...!! We... We can’t get that couple’s discount if one of us passes out from hunger.”

“Fufufu. I doubt that either of us would.” His mismatched eyes twinkled with mirth. “... Thank you for the sweets, Miss Raven. I will be certain to savor every last bite.”

The town became even busier in the late afternoon, filing with the sound of street performers and spectators. A monkey in a vest and a small hat barreled by Raven’s feet as she and Jade exited the café, nearly causing her to double over. A chorus of children’s laughter chased after the monkey—and she, the raven, stumbled on her recovery.

“Perhaps now would be a good time to reconsider my offer,” Jade suggested, a hand on the small of her back to support her. That same hand trailed around and tickled the back of hers. “It would be a shame if we lost one another in this crowd.”

Raven regarded him with a pointed look, but slipped her hand into his without further resistance. “... Only because I have to.”

“Of course, of course.”

Together, they braved the bustling streets.

A new world unfolded before Raven’s very eyes. Costumed performers of all kinds paraded about, garnering attention from passerbys. Some tossed confetti and candies, others brandished instruments. Brass, strings, percussion—all their notes floated up into the festive atmosphere.

There went a dancer, leaping like a lithe deer, limbs outstretched and the flowy fabric of their uniform like a curtain of smoke. And here was an artist perched on a stool, sketching the outline of a woman posed on a wooden crate. A young man jingled a tambourine, trying to catch coins in his cap.

A number of food carts patrolled the roads, calling out their wares. Crepes, sandwiches, sodas... Families, friends, and couples lining benches, exchanging bites.

Love was truly in the air and oozing out of every pore of the community.

Raven couldn’t keep her head still. She turned this way and that, trying to soak up every last sight and sound. Her golden eyes sparkled with wonder.

Jade, of course, took note. “Excited, are you?”

“It’s very different than Night Raven College,” she replied shyly. “Almost like a magic kingdom.”

“Magic kingdom? You can be rather melodramatic at times.”

“Yeah? So can you and Azul and Floyd, with all your fake tears...” Her wandering eyes caught something bright red as she spoke. “Oh...!! Look.”

Raven tugged on Jade’s hand, urging him to a halt. Her gaze was transfixed on a lamp post with a multitude of red strings. At the other ends of those ribbons were heart-shaped balloons, as red as blood.

His eyebrows pinched together in mocking sympathy. “You truly are fascinated by the simplest things. Is it true what they say? That ravens are attracted to shiny objects?”

Her mouth flew open to protest, but she was interrupted by a woman by the balloon-bearing lamp post “You there!! Sir with the earring and ma’am with the blue ribbon! Care for some balloons?”

“Er... What are they for?” Raven asked.

“For love, of course,” the woman laughed. “Today’s all about appreciating one another, right? This is my way of spreading love.”

She separated three balloons from her bundle and offered them with a flourish. Raven eagerly accepted them, staring up in wonder at their floating bodies.

“Oh, and one more thing!!” The woman produced a red ribbon from her jacket pocket and nodded at the duo. “Your pinkie fingers, please!”

Raven held out her hand as directed, letting the woman secure the ribbon in a neat little knot. The balloon bearer extended the length of the ribbon, glancing to Jade. Raven, too, looked at him expectantly. Jade expelled a quiet sigh and allowed the red ribbon to be tied to his pinkie.

“There you go!” the woman declared triumphantly. “You’re all set now! Enjoy the rest of your Valentine’s Day, folks!”

“Thank you!” Raven shouted over her shoulder—even as Jade started to lead her away. The woman waved and waved until she was out of sight.

“... It has been a while since I have seen you this enthusiastic,” Jade remarked with a glance to the balloons. “I do suppose it is a departure from the monotony of daily life, but to think that such little things bring this amount of joy...”

“It reminds me of a story a little birdie once told me,” Raven chirped with a small giggle. “The story of the Red Thread of Fate.”

“Oh?” Jade raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“The Red Thread of Fate is said to connect ‘destined people’. It can tangle, twist, or stretch, but it can never break. From the moment you are born, you have an unseen thread flowing from your pinkie finger, tying your fate to that of the person on the other end,” Raven recited, her tone turning solemn—her storytelling voice.

“Someday,” she said, “you will cross paths with the one that shares your thread, and your lives will be forever changed by the encounter. It could be a meaningful battle between rivals, the loss of a loved one, the promise of marriage... but the course of their stories will never again be the same.”

“How sentimental. And what, pray tell, does this red thread of ours mean, Miss Raven?” Jade questioned, lifting his end of the ribbon—the crimson shining in the sunlight.

“How would I know? I’m not a god,” she huffed. “It’s just fun to imagine the possibilities.”

“It is, indeed. Even so, surely there must be one favored conclusion to the story of the Red Thread of Fate in that pretty little head of yours.” He brought a hand to his mouth, yanking Raven toward him.

She glanced up with a glare. “I’d have to have a bird brain to tell you that.”

“Is that not the duty of a storyteller? To stand on stage and tell the tale until the curtain closes. Your adoring audience awaits.”

“You’re being booted from the metaphorical theater before you get to hear or see the ending.”

“I would like to see you try.”

Jade slowed to a stop, Raven following suit. They were back in the town square, by the lamp post where they had met up. Ending where it had all begun.

He pulled out his phone and consulted the time. Jade unlocked his device, quickly wrote up a message, and tucked it away again. “I can take it from here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Besides,” Jade cast a pitiful look at Raven’s trembling arms, “I doubt you would be able to haul those supplies the remainder of the way, and certainly not in an efficient manner.”

“... Then what was the point of stating in the contract that you needed a helping hand?”

“I am afraid that even I am not entirely privy as to Azul’s intentions,” he chuckled, gently prying a bag from her hands. “I will be certain to let Azul know that Mac-san’s end of the contract has been fulfilled.”

“Eh...? But—“

“You have our thanks for lending the Mostro Lounge your time. You are free to go now, Miss Raven. I’ve already summoned Floyd in your stead to assist me.”

“Th-The ribbon, you fool! I can’t leave if I’m still bound to you!”

“Oh? You don’t say.” His singsong held no concern whatsoever, only amusement.

“S-Stop playing dumb! You know very well what you are doing!!”

“You said it yourself, Miss Raven. Our lives have been forever changed since our encounter. There is no going back now.”

“Stop manipulating the narrative to suit your needs.”

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you mean. Jade smiled, feigning innocence. “You’ve resigned yourself to spending the rest of the day with me—at least until Floyd arrives to relieve you of your burden. Ah, but given his moodiness, who knows when that will be.”

“Just because your surname is Leech doesn’t mean you need to suck the life out of me like one,” Raven snapped. She reached for the red ribbon, intending to undo it—

—only to be met with a bouquet a second time. Flowers the color of the sunset, smelling like the drip of sunshine and a cut of meadow.

“For you—no strings attached this time.”

“Those are for the terrarium centerpieces.”

“I can easily replace them,” Jade insisted, “and I must repay you for your kind chocolate gift. Consider this... ‘favors for favors’, so that neither one of us is left indebted to the other.”

“... Alright. I’ll take them, but only because they might be useful for brewing some new inks.”

“I’m glad to see that you are being agreeable.” Jade slipped the flowers to her. “Take good care of them.”

Raven leaned against a lamp post, cradling the large bouquet in one arm. Her heart fluttered, and her limbs felt as light as air. Warm and floaty, like the balloons in her hand. 

Favors for favors—but it still counted as a gift from Jade, and that very thought sent her mind spiraling. She took a shaky breath, and focused on the confetti and laughter in the distance, the song and dance of the street performers.

Waiting and waiting for Floyd.

“Miss Raven.”

“What now? Haven’t you bullied me enough for today? Are you still not satisfied, you sadist?”

She dared to lift her eyes to meet Jade’s—and her heart stood still, for he looked back. His sharp eyes soft and shrouded by long lashes, his lips pulled into a tender smile.

“Contract or no, I always enjoy my time with you—I enjoyed today,” Jade murmured. “I hope that we are able to do this again sometime.”

“... Shut up. J-Just shut up already, i-it’s embarrassing listening to you speak...!!” She buried her head in the flowers, concealing her pink face. Still feeling floaty, like a balloon, high on happiness.

“Fufufu. Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss Raven.”

[serenityseventeen]

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The First Letter

-------------------

To: Choi Seungcheol

From: Y/N

Hi, Seungcheol.

I know that in your life, I've probably been a side character. A classmate in your autobiography or life movie. I don't expect to become anything more than that because now, I don't think I have a chance.

We've known each other since we were young. We've known each other for all of our life basically, right?

I can still remember what a cute kid you were back in kindergarten. You were such a nice little boy and whenever the other kids picked on me, you would stand up to them and say, “Hey! I'll tell the teacher and I'll also tell Y/N's parents about everything!”

I don't know if you remember that, but I do.

When we went to middle school, I think that's when I first began liking you. Even though we live just a block apart from each other, we didn't talk a lot outside of school. Since we were both classmates and knew each other's house location, it was a bit awkward for me, but thank you for talking to me when we waited for the bus at the bus stop together. Sometimes you would just briefly mention my hair or the small details like new shoes or socks.

Thinking about it still gives me hope that you like me.

Throughout middle school, you always fed me hope. Maybe because in general, you were just a charming, manly, attractive, and caring guy. Maybe I'm still misunderstanding too many of your actions.

I can remember so many times that my heart fluttered and my stomach filled with butterflies because of you, Seungcheol. Since this is a letter to you that I won't send, I guess I'll just write them all down here to keep as a memory, just in case I ever miss you or feel nostalgic. You're my first love, after all, Seungcheol.

There was this time when we were in 6th grade. In 6th grade, both of us didn't talk much, and surprisingly, we didn't get a lot of long-term projects together. I don't think we got any at all actually.

Anyway, it was the middle of spring and both of us were just hanging out with our group of friends. You were throwing around a paper ball, playing a game of catch with your friends during the break. I was just being the usual me, listening to my friends talk while drawing dancing cartoons in the empty spaces in my notebook. Sometimes I would glance up and catch a glimpse of you catching the ball.

Despite being in middle school, you had really large, muscular arms. I was watching you and your friend play catch for a bit. Your friend was right next to me, catching the ball, and you were on the opposite side. I turned back to my notebook then all of a sudden, the ball flew right in my face from your hands.

I let out a small “ouch” even though it didn't hurt. Your friend asked me if I was okay, to which I replied that I was fine. Just then, I don't know when you came, but you came in front of me and took my face in your hands. It only hit my forehead but you examined my cheeks, chin, nose, turning my face in all sorts of directions while asking “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” and saying “I'm so sorry” repeatedly. As I'm writing this, the lingering feeling of your warm palms holding my head and the side of my neck still makes my heart race. I didn't think my heart could beat so fast but it did. I think that's when I was sure I liked you more than a one-sided crush. It became a one-sided love for another two years.

There were way too many times my heart fluttered because of you but because this letter is already so long, I will only express my side of three of those times.

I hope this is an event that you remember. It was the day when you, me, and two other friends went to an amusement park. I think of this day as a double date. I can still remember my friend joking about how you and I looked so good together. I don't know if you noticed but I was so shy. She was also joking about how ‘this was a double date’ and because I was being paired up with you like that, I was just feeling over the moon. You didn't even say anything to deny it, you just laughed as I did.

I remember how your friend was convincing you to ride some rollercoasters but you were so afraid and whining. I remember just thinking you were so cute even though the memory is a bit blurry.

After that, because I wanted us to get closer, I said, “I'll ride it with you, it'll be okay.”

You were still skeptical but to me, it looked like you were giving in. I always wonder if it was because of me or if you were annoyed by your friend's continuous convincing. If it was because of me, then, I might regret not telling you my feelings.

Anyway, I rode the rollercoaster with you and I was, evidently, really scared. I was so scared to ride that thing that I was unintentionally screaming with you with my eyes shut. My hand was holding tightly onto the bar that secured us and I couldn't open my eyes at all. Just then, I felt your hand on mine and I could feel the courage to open my eyes. When I finally stopped yelling and opened my eyes, I saw that you still had your eyes squeezed, gripping my hand tightly.

You looked so cute, Seungcheol. If you opened your eyes, you would have seen how brightly I was smiling. Later that night, I remember, I rolled around in my bed and wiggled thinking back on it.

However, whenever I tried to get close with you, I always backed out because even though there are small moments like those I mentioned, there are more times where it seems like you don't like me the way that I like you. I don't know your heart and I know better than anyone that being friends with you would only make my love for you grow deeper.

It's the first time I'm feeling this way for anyone and I don't know what to do. I want to get closer and explicitly tell you that I like you and want you to date me, but at the same time, I don't know which decision is right. We're both still young is the only excuse I can think of, but still, I can't bring myself to tell you how I feel. All I know is that I might be in love with you and you make my heart race.

This is the last thing I'll share in this letter, even though you won't receive it. I just want to tell you my honest feelings that I can't tell you about physically. Yes, I'm being a coward and writing a letter like this.

You know, Seungcheol, you always had this strong aura to you. You can be so cute but you're so masculine too. I like how caring you are, always taking care of your classmates. I admire you for having such a great sense of responsibility. You always remind me when I'm on cleanup duty. Not to mention how charismatic you look when you rap alone at the bus stop. Your deep voice is beautiful when you sing too. I don't think you know how much I know about you. I don't want to seem creepy because these types of things are just things I can't help noticing. I don't even know why I'm writing this down, it just crossed my mind just now. I might as well pour out the rest of my heart to carve you out, right?

There was this one time last year, at the bus stop, when I arrived before you did. Usually, you always came to the bus stop first, and honestly, without you there made me feel uneasy. It made me realize a lot that your presence gave me feelings of reassurance and comfort. Without you there, I was so paranoid that I took out my headphones just in case my headphones would block out the sound of someone coming. I just remember feeling so scared, clenching my cold fists in my lap. The morning was gloomy and it was even raining.

I remember my mind racing, waiting for you to come. However, I was getting even more scared at the fact that I probably wouldn't be able to hear anything so I just wore my headphones again and listened to some music. I was looking down the sidewalk in the direction of my house, wondering if I should ask my father to drive me to school instead, when all of a sudden, you yanked out my headphones.

You were panting, covered in rain. I stood up because I was shocked and nearly wanted to hug you for coming but because we weren't close, I knew it'd be awkward if I thanked you or something. However, what you said to me, has always lingered in my head.

“Hey!” You shouted in a scolding tone, placing your hands on your hips. “What are you doing out here all alone? Why didn't you go back home and get an umbrella, it's raining so much! Plus, you could have waited until I came first until you decided to sit here alone with music blocking your ears! What are you, stupid!?”

At that time, I just stood, frozen. I was wondering why you didn't have an umbrella meanwhile my heart was fluttering. I was wondering why you were scolding me. Were you worried for me? Do you like me? Those questions still float around.

After scolding me, you sighed and apologized.

“No, it's okay,” I said quietly. I couldn't tell you that I was scared because I just didn't know how to say it without making it awkward. If I did say that I was scared since you weren't with me, would things change?

In the end, you were still soaking wet so you called your dad to get you an umbrella. Why was that? Why didn't you just come out with an umbrella?

I have so many questions about so many seemingly minor things you do to me. Are you worried just for me or are you worried for everyone, including all our classmates? Do you find me a source of comfort or were you just too scared to think on the rollercoaster?

Since the questions will never get answered like how this letter will never get mailed, I will conclude negatively, that you don't feel the same way. The main reason I'm writing this letter anyway is that I'm deciding to get over you. I know we're probably going to be stuck in the same high school but I'm going to stop loving you foolishly like this.

Thank you for being my first love. You being yourself made me feel so many different kinds of feelings, so many different emotions. I fell in love for the first time and I'm glad it was with someone like you, even if the ending is bittersweet. After summer break passes, I'll make sure to get over you.

I won't forget you though. I won't forget the way you cared for me. I won't forget the way you are.

You're an unforgettable first love, Seungcheol.

Sincerely,

Y/N

-----------------

© serenityseventeen

6/18/21 - 3:39 pm

a/n: I'm in love with the entire Your Choice album!!! Ready to Love is such a beautiful song, gosh, I'm in love with it!!! Seventeen always has superior B-Sides and ANYONE is my new bias wrecker + The members posted on Instagram today for the first time in forever (except for Seungkwan)!!!

[vagrantblvrd]

Luke “I’m here to rescue you!” :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD Skywalker rescuing Din and others with rad Jedi powers and Din “I’m so tired, please let me rest” Djarin and his “Are you a Jedi” is like. The best.

Luke used to being recognized pretty much everywhere he goes and this Mandalorian who has no clue is so great, he loves it?

And then the however long after taking Grogu as his student Luke ends up chasing Din. At some point there’s another rescue that’s marginally less dramatic than the one on Gideon’s cruiser.

Din just stares at Luke before he offers a quiet thanks and trudges off because ow and tired and so, so tired and his job’s not finished yet, and did he mention the tired part? Because so very tired.

Luke is like ??? but gamely follows along because Grogu is miserable, inconsolable  -

“What did you say?”

Luke blinks at the way the Mandalorian whips around, hand dropping to the blaster at his hip as he strides toward him and has to run the last thing he said back in his mind and oh, of course.

Cocks his head, because this Mandalorian, exhausted, hurting, and covered in...well, Luke’s not sure but there’s a very large creature behind them that was mostly dead before Luke had to step in at the last minute to save said Mandalorian, and anyway.

After all that and having gotten a glimpse of what Luke’s capable of on Gideon’s cruiser, he looks like he’s figuring out the best way to kill Luke and it’s kind of great?

(Leia would have conniptions if she could hear that part and would also kill him, which is why Luke is never, ever going to tell her. Ever.)

“He misses you,” Luke says, keeps eye contact with Din because the Force and all even with the helmet - even with the way Din’s fingers over his blaster twitch, the way it looks like oh, hey, the Mandalorian might kill him anyway, but -

He just sighs, shoulders dropping as his hand falls away from his blaster, head turning away.

Not much to look at here, rock and dust and burned out mining settlements.

“I have a job to do,” the Mandalorian grits out.

Luke studies him, considers his words and smiles. Small thing at the corner of his mouth.

“Want help with that?”

Which is how Luke gets dragged into a plan only an idiot could love, which of course is why he’s all for it and all kinds of fighty action.

(Including the one where he and Din end up back-to-back against a mob of baddies and quips an one-liners and dry retorts are exchanged and Luke is far more charmed by the whole thing than he should be, and the same for Din and it’s just a slippery slope from there, you know?)

Also, just when they think the fighting’s over the last baddie on a roof somewhere takes a shot at them and it’s hard to say which of them is more impressed at what happens after that. Din who shot the baddie dead, body tumbling from the roof as in westerns of olde, or Luke who deflected the shot with his lightsaber.

Still.

Din tilts his head at Luke as he holsters his blaster, says - mocking? teasing?

“You missed.”

Because he has seen, okay, he has seen Luke deflect blaster bolts right back at the idiot who fired them, knows he can do that.

Luke shrugs, that little smile on his face he had when this whole mess started back, and he says,”You had it covered.”

And then goes off to check on the innocents they were protecting, who hired Din to save them, while Din stares after him thinking uncomplimentary things about Jedi because seriously, okay, seriously.

But also that thing about Grogu and Luke not having to work all that hard to convince Din to come see his kid.

(Has this moment, though, when Din mentions what Ahsoka told him about the Jedi order and attachment and makes a mental note to have a chat with some Jedi masters he knows later, but for now, yes.)

Din who’s all...restless, antsy, worried about setting Grogu on a path to the Dark side, so he doesn’t stay.

Goes off on Adventures and such, meanwhile Luke’s sending him updates on Grogu’s progress. Sometimes just happens to be in the same place as Din - What a surprise Din’s ass, what with the smirk on Luke’s face and oh, look, Grogu’s here too.

There’s just.

A lot of that going on, and Din is kind of losing his mind about it because it’s hard to be noble and self-sacrificing when the person he’s doing it for isn’t letting him???

Just absolutely refuses to, and has the galaxy’s worst enabler in an annoying smug Jedi who should really know better, because Jedi???

Luke just shrugs, that same dam smile on his face s Grogu chatters at Din - lecturing him, really, with that scowl on his face and angry little growl to his voice.

“He misses you,” is all Luke ever says, and it’s just.

A lot.

And then there’s a situation in which Din evades the bad guys in his new ship but also ends up crashing it. Just staring at the damn thing, hull integrity compromised and listing sadly to the side because broken landing struts and also a pile of boulders and look, not his best landing ever.

He’s not in his best shape ever either, bruised and battered and just so, so tired, and then a damn X-wing shows up not too long afterward.

Skywalker, because of course it’s him, and Grogu too.

Din’s sitting on a boulder staring at his ship and just.

Tired.

Luke doesn’t say anything, but he sets Grogu down and Din’s tiny green gremlin kid scampers over to him and tugs on his pants. Lifts his little arms and Din obeys the unspoken command to pick his kid up, and stares.

Because his tiny green gremlin kid has a helmet.

Pilot’s helmet, though, and Luke just shrugs when Din looks at him because what? Things get turbulent sometimes when one is flying about in an all too recognizable X-wing and it’s not like Luke has a wingman to watch his six wherever he goes and also there are so many people out there who’d love to take a shot at him, so.

Safety measures and all.

Really.

Although maybe having a Mando-Dad is influencing his son’s sartorial choices, who can say.

(But please consider Grogu in a full set of Grogu-sized Mandalorian armor as I sure the hell am right now.)

Din huffs, and when he looks back a Grogu his heart does this Thing inside his chest because there’s a mudhorn insignia on the helmet.

Luke just happens to be looking at something in the distance when Din looks at him again, but there’s this hint of a smile and an air of amusement about him and just.

Yes.

Anyway.

Luke wanders off to examine Din’s poor, poor ship, see if it can still fly and leaves Din and Grogu to their reunion. And since it’s mostly the two of them staring at one another and Din being emotional Luke sets about taking care of what repairs he can do with what’s on hand while he’s there.

Artoo trundles over from the X-wing and pitches in and between the two of them have the Din’s ship looking a little less pathetic by the time Din and Grogu come over to see what they’re up to.

“Huh,” Din says, because they did a good job, but it’s not like he can just say that, now can he?

Luke rolls his eyes, says, ��It’d go faster with more hands,” which he isn’t wrong about.

So Din gets back to work, and so does Grogu.

Din stealing glances as Luke sneaks in Jedi lessons such as holding panels in place as they weld them to the ship’s frame and such. Tiny green gremlin son practically beaming as Luke praises him for a job well done and Din’s heart does that Thing again.

Anyway, they get his ship patched up far sooner than he would have on his own and then it’s this tiny bit awkward.

What he wants - no, what he thinks he wants - is to leave in search of another bounty, Karga always has some for him - keep busy, make himself useful, but -

“You look like you could use a few days to rest,” Luke says, kind about it.

Din knows very well he’s not in the best state at the moment. Armor dirty and tired down to his bones, and the Jedi’s not wrong, exactly, just.

Reasons.

Ones that don’t stand up to Grogu’s little face and sad eyes and Din’s tired, enough so to give in to weakness this one time and go with them to wherever Luke’s set up shop.

And then he just.

Stays

Mostly.

Still gets restless, antsy, and goes off to hunt bounties, but when his job is done he finds himself going back to Grogu and Luke more often than not.

Enough that he has a set of rooms shared with Grogu and he’s become a familiar figure to the town not far from Luke’s school and -

“You really don’t have anything better than to hang around here?”

Cara and the others giving him looks when he goes to Nevarro to pick up more than a handful of bounties at a time, or wanders the town to soak in the changes they’re bringing to it with the Empire gone and funds coming in - New Republic fighters and such stopping by for fuel and minor repairs.

Which.

Cara gives him a look, a smirk, as though Din’s got anything to do with that, and yes.

Anyway, anyway, no matter how long he’s away Luke’s always there when he gets back, Luke and Grogu, and it means something, doesn’t it?

After a while - the trips away don’t stop, can’t help that - but he stops staying away for so long, looking for excuses to stay away.

Starts to feel less like...like an interloper at Luke’s school eve though he was the only one to think like that, especially once Luke gains more students.

Because fighting and such, and sparring demonstrations and Din won’t mind, and really, it’s as fun for Din as it clearly is for Luke.

But also Din teaching Luke’s students in combat forms aside from lightsabers and such.

(Luke sneaking in at the back when his own classes are done, leaning against the wall and watching Din with an appreciative eye until Din has had enough of the smug and the smirking and hauls him in front of the class for practical demonstrations.)

Perhaps there are long walks together, Luke and Din with little Grogu toddling along or hitching a rid in their arms or on their shoulder, and quiet conversation and peace and quiet and this contentment Din hasn’t found anywhere else.

And, perhaps, on one of those long walks together there’s a moment where Din leans down, forehead against Luke’s while Grogu chases after a frog, Luke smiling up at him -

A splash and indignant little squawk, splashing from Grogu who chased the frog into the water, of course he did. Luke’s laughter as he pulls away to rescue their tiny green gremlin child while Din closes his eyes, helpless smile on his face as he listens to Luke gently chiding Grogu and Grogu’s protests, stubborn as Din and Luke combined and breathes.

(Also, though. Grogu pouting all the way home because he almost had that forg okay, if his dads had just given him another chance he would have had it.)

[jesswritesthat]

you are such a good writer so i just know you’ll do justice to this. if you’d be willing, a small drabble about reader who tends to be quite standoffish w guys and just isn’t as close to them as compared to girls bc i remember being so stupid around my childhood crush and i’m pretty sure he hated me 😃 and then the guy i was friends w wouldn’t let me get too close to him bc he didn’t want people to think we’re “dating” n e ways let me shove my insecurities back down,,, but reader still loves watching romance anything bc someone unabashedly wanting to be around you like that?? can’t relate xx anyways it can be w any haikyuu guy, let the vibes come to you 🥰 thank you Jess love u 🥺

A/N: Hold up - THIS IS ME OMG! I feel you, I have terrible luck with romance but I find it so cute at the same time! I love you too, gorgeous anon, I hope I’ve done you justice 🥺

So allow me to kill some of those insecurities - or Oikawa will rather >:)

Warnings: cursing, fem reader

>>>>——————————>

Anyone could admit Oikawa Tōru was enamouring, yet you only offered a shaky sigh as your friend tugged you along to meet her team. That’s what you get for befriending the future manager of Seijoh back in Middle School.

"Aren't you from Iwa-chans’ class?" An internal shriek caused your eyes to widen, snapping your head to the local celebrity tilting his toward you rather than his fangirls. 

"I'm surprised you remember." Snarky. Nice, you'd possibly regret it if not for his all-too-gentlemanly attitude. He’d only barged in searching for Iwaizumi a couple of times, you didn’t think he’d taken notes.

"Wouldn't forget a pretty face like yours." The smile was beautiful, even so you crossed your arms with a raised brow.

"Next time, try harder~"

"So mean (L/n)-chan."

You winced, your head screaming 'I know! God I know?! Why would I say that?!' but it was natural instinct at this point, a defence mechanism if you will, especially against someone as cunning as Oikawa Tōru.

In honesty, you believed that to be the start and end of it - except your friend encouragingly dragged you to her practices and Oikawa strategically managed to catch you alone every single time. Makki or Mattsun (you think) subtlety coined your friends focus for approximately 10 minutes, leaving you laxly waiting for her to rejoin you. In fact with the consistency at which it occurred, you’d become friends with the Captain.

———

Only you’d let your guard down once, the team required managerial help meanwhile you got settled playing a romantic film on your phone. Immediately you were distracted, softness leaking to your features whilst muffled hopeless sighs of endearment were hummed in acknowledgment.

“That’s an unusual sound from you~”

“He just gave her a rose and they kissed in the rain, how could I not - shit!” It was a subconscious answer due to enthralment, the haunting voice only resonating mid-way through your justification causing you to shockingly snap around to Tōru watching from over your shoulder with a smug grin. You’d almost dropped your phone!

“Don’t stop now (Y/n)-chan, tell me how to get you to make that sound again. It’s cute.”

“No- no way! Get back to practice Oikawa - go do a jump serve or something!”

“Oh? So you do listen when I talk about Volleyball!”

———

It wasn’t until after their next practice match did you suffer his infuriating (yet admittedly appreciated) presence again. This time the brunette proudly standing by your side as he shared his views of the match with you - the burning gazes of his fans deadlocked on the two of you as if deciphering the DaVinci code.

"Maybe you should um - y'know, not be so close?"

A careful roll of your shoulder accompanied your hesitant claim, the close proximity allowing for the small movement to graze his left side. Oikawa shot you a perplexed look, leaning closer to your face out of spite - even if his inquiry was subtlety sincere.

"Why? You don't like it?"

"No - I mean yes - I just..." A sigh of defeat escapes as you run a hand through your hair before meeting his warm hues again. "People might think you care and I wouldn't want you to have to deal with rumours."

Tōru was unnervingly quiet, he would’ve took a step back if you’d asked, however this reasoning was ridiculous by his standard. Darkened irises scanned over your casual frame with fingers pressed against his chin in thought.

"What if I want people to think that? I mean it's true, isn't it~"

"Is it?"

A melodic chuckle echoes your sarcastic suspicion, the heartthrob of Seijoh nudging your arm with a charming smile that’d leave fans fainting at his feet.

"Am I not obvious enough for you (Y/n)-chan?"

"You're obvious to everyone - in fact you're probably nicer to your fans than you are to me. Hence why I'm hesitant to believe you."

It was beyond comprehension to think one of the most popular men in Miyagi be romantically interested in you, which is why taking the flirtatious antics of Oikawa was done with a pinch of salt.

“Hmm... in that case I’ll show you...” You hadn’t a moment to determine his intentions, not when he’d firmly hooked your wrist and dragged you out to the refreshing Spring showers currently hydrating Miyagis’ cherry blossoms that day.

“By getting me wet?!”

“Eventually maybe - ah, that’s not it though.” Only smirking at the death glare pointed at him due the insinuation, Tōru washed it away with the gentle caress of his palms either side of your jaw. You knew his hands were magic but this was surreal - a thumb brushed your cheekbone before his lips met with your forehead, his nose then skimmed to meet yours with a genuinely content smile ghosting his features.

“T-tōru?” Breathless surprise, that’s all you could muster with the rain trickling down your skin onto his delicate fingers. He’d never seen you so defenceless, and he’d wanted more of it.

“I actually like that sound better than your longing sighs, say it again for me, won’t you?” You’d pulled from him with that, your fingers lacing his wrists - to which the Setter fluently twisted and captured your hands in his own causing you to furrow your brows once again.

“Shut up, you’re not funny.”

A defeated sigh left him, eyes briefly closed in surrender prior to fluttering open with renewed admiration for you, mildly unwilling to admit the sentimentality underlying his actions. Sentimentality tailored to you and for only you.

“I know it’s not a passionate kiss in the rain like in the movies, the ones you like so much. But I’ll willingly, happily try - we can get to that if you want to go on a date with me?“

“Are you serious? Don’t you h-“

“I don’t want them, I want you. The person who lets her friends drag her to games she didn’t want to attend, who helps in practice despite not needing to, the girl who got to know the real me, and the one who looks really cute watching romantic movies~”

“I don’t know her but, I suppose there’s no harm in going out with you once Oikawa.” The witty response caused him to laugh along with you, expecting nothing less.

“Perfect - but my hair is gonna be ruined, can we go back inside now (Y/n)-chan?”

Rolling your eyes at his petty whining, you couldn’t hide the overflowing amusement in your laugh as you pushed him back into the gymnasium where his team (and your friend) sported expectant grins.

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[stargazer-balladeer]

Someone Flirting w/ their S/o [3rd Gym]

Characters Included: Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo Tetsuro, Kenma Kozume, Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Kotaro

Note: No one requested this :) This is happening before the game or match :) It’s not in school, but in the stadium or whatever you call those :) hope ya’ll enjoy this!

Reader’s Gender: Neutral

Warning: none

Tsukishima Kei

-Tsukishima would stare at them as a random person walk up to you and started (shamelessly) flirting with you, saying some horrible pick-up lines, which you retort back (being with Tsukishima has its perks :D). His eyes would narrow when he noticed that the person was getting close to you, too close for liking.

-He wouldn’t do anything really, he knows you can handle it. He trusts you enough to stop that person. If he’s right, he would have that shit-eating grin on his face, which scares Hinata (who was beside him), as he watches you turning away from the person. But if that person persists, then that’s the time he would intervene with the same sadistic grin on his face. He would taunt them endlessly until the person runs away while fuming mad.

-But if you’re too nice and can’t turn the person down, he’ll frown and sigh at the same time. He loves that you’re nice, yes, but its this moments that he wishes you weren’t your nice self. He would watch the scene play out first before intervening. But if the person is getting touchy too quickly, then he’ll be by your immediately with a glare and smirk on his face. 

-After that fiasco ends, he’ll ask if you’re alright and ruffles your head in whatever response you give him. He’ll make sure that you are beside Yachi all throughout the game, so he can see you. He’ll never admit to you that he was worried though, he still has his pride and reputation to keep up.

-(He might or might not give you his Karasuno jacket so people can get the idea that you’re taken :).)

Kuroo Tetsuro

-You thought this guy left you alone? No. Not a chance. Even if you’re the manager of Nekoma Volleyball Team or just a normal person to watch the match, he makes sure you’re either with him or in his sight. If he sees someone flirting with you, you better expect a rooster-headed boi by your side. 

-This guy has a shit-eating grin while also glaring at the person. He’ll strike up a friendly conversation with that person while still glaring at them. Kuroo’s hand is on your waist and he pulls you closer as he talks with the person. That person would go away either from embarrassment, frustration or awkwardness. This guy has a talent for those kind of things.

-But it doesn’t mean that Kuroo doesn’t trust you, no. He trusts you that you can handle yourself, but people who watches or plays with them? No, he’ll be by your side immediately. He knows how these people can be when they see a lonely person all by themselves, it’s better to stay safe than sorry after all :)

-Kuroo makes sure you’re in his line of vision, or if you’re their Manager, then near Coach Nekoma. This guy makes sure you’ll wear a spare Jersey of him the next match so that people can get the idea that you’re his :)

Kenma Kozume

-When he sees you getting hit by someone, he might froze and panic at what to do. I mean, have you seen this precious bby?! He’s very awkward when it comes to speaking to other people, he actually has no idea how he manage to be friends with someone like Hinata -_- So yeah, he’ll try to come up with a plan to get you out of there.

-But he might also leave you alone, you can handle yourself, right? He trusts you that you can shoo that person away so he’ll (probably) let it go for the mean time. But if he sees that the person is persistent, he’ll glare at them and pout from the distance. He didn’t want to make a fool out of himself, especially not in front of you!

-If you’re nice and couldn’t shoo that guy away, Kenma would sigh as he contemplate why on earth that Kamisama (God) gave him such a nice person. One way or another, Kuroo would get involve and get you out of the situation. 

-Kuroo probably saw the scene unfold in front of him and notice Kenma’s reaction of it, which greatly amuses him. He wants to help out right away when he notice you getting hit by someone other than him or the Team (yes, they flirt with you to get on Kenma’s nerves :3), but decided to see it play out. But after a while, he decides enough was enough and drags you away from the person and back to your (still) pouting boyfriend.

-Please hug him though, he’s still his insecure self and is terrified at the idea of you leaving him and finding someone else. Even if its embarrassing, hug him and kiss him. He needs it ;-;

-Kenma tells you to sit somewhere that is on his line of vision so that he could see you and smile at the sight of you (or if you’re their manager, he’ll turn his head just to look at you for a second to get his energy back [a freaking charger]). 

-Kuroo probably is the one who gives you a spare jersey of Kenma’s so that you can wear it to their next match. Kenma would be so surprise and embarrassed that his face is red. He knows who did this so he glares at the smirking bed-headed guy. 

-(He’s secretly thanking him though. He manage to have a memory of you wearing his jersey :3)

Akaashi Keiji

-Akaashi would be compose and calm (just like his usual self) when he notices you getting hit on by someone, Bokuto is probably the one making the whole thing a big deal. Akaashi would sigh and push Bokuto away while staring at you and the person. He trusts you that you’re able to shoo that person away though, if that happens, he wouldn’t intervene and just go along with his way.

-But if the person persists, he would probably use Bokuto to scare the person away (XD). While Bokuto scaring the guy away, he’ll tend to you and ask if you’re okay. He’ll let out a smile to you to whatever answer you give him and kiss you on the forehead before dragging a screaming Bokuto away, probably leaving you dumbfounded on what’s happening.

-But if you’re too nice to say anything to that person, he’ll intervene. He’ll calmly say something to that person (probably something that goes along the lines of, “Please excuse us.”) before dragging you away from the person. But if that person persists (”Hey! I was talking to them!” in this instance”), Akaashi would lose his cool momentarily, glaring at the person before speaking in the coldest voice you’ll ever hear him say in, “We’re leaving, (ma’am/sir).”

-That person would be frozen from his glare as Akaashi continues to drag you away. He’ll lead you to where you watch the match and give you his water if you want. He’ll ask if you’re okay or if you’re hurt anywhere (Mommy Akaashi mode :D). He’ll ruffle your head and give you his Fukurodani jacket to wear and leave you alone to win a match.

-He gives you his jacket so that everyone can see that you belong to someone from Fukurodani, mainly him. And they’ll probably get scared because Bokuto is there and can be scary if he wants to. It has a double meaning in it :)

Bokuto Koutaro 

-HE’S SCREAMING. He’ll immediately by your side and screaming at the person who’s flirting with you. Nobody flirts with his s/o >:( Bokuto will hold you tightly in his (buff) arms while he’s still angrily screaming at the person.

-If you scold him for his actions, he’ll go to his Emo mode (which made Akaashi stare at you like “what have you done?”). You better do something to lift his spirits once more! Like kiss anywhere on his face (or everywhere if you like) and say you’re proud of him. He’ll be back to your usual Bokuto that we all know and love.

-Akaashi might also scold him a bit when he sees Bokuto running to you and the person. Bokuto trusts you, yes. But that person is wayy too close for comfort! Akaashi can only sigh as he watch as Bokuto scream at the person with a dumbfounded you on his arms.

-This is better if you’re too nice to turn the person down though, but even if you can turn them down, Bokuto would be there either way. Just enjoy being in his muscular arms in the time-being :D

-He’ll give you his jacket to wear so that you won’t feel lonely while watching the match. Then he’ll give you a hug and a kiss on the lips (saying it’s a good luck charm!) before going to the court. People better not flirt with you or else they’ll have a screaming Bokuto :)

[x] Main Page || [x] Karasuno Page || [x] Nekoma Page || [x] Fukurōdani Page

[robininthelabyrinth]

I'd like more Baxia/NMJ bodyswap please and thank you!

Close - extra 3

-

It wasn’t actually, strictly speaking, necessary for Nie Mingjue to spend two weeks as a saber after he got a nasty concussion on a deliberately sabotaged night-hunt, but he was tired of being in charge – he’d refused the Chief Cultivator title on principle, but he seemed to somehow have gotten stuck doing all the work, possibly for lack of other options – and, well, he could. So why not?

Obviously Baxia wasn’t capable of leading his sect, much less the cultivation world, but he did have one sworn brother left of the two, however distracted the remaining one was by Meng Yao’s plight, and anyway his brother needed to figure out the details of running things sometime before Nie Mingjue actually did die of qi deviation.

“You’re not going to die, stop being so dramatic,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. “The sect healers said that your meridians are clearer than they’ve ever seen in our family and that you may well have solved the problem in our clan’s cultivation method to the point that they don’t see any reason you can’t cultivate straight into immortality.”

Nie Mingjue did not respond. He was, after all, a saber.

“I can feel you being smug in there!”

It was a natural state for sabers. That was his story, and he was sticking with it.

Baxia laughed inside his mind and reached out with a human hand to pat Nie Huaisang on the head, her action still a little overly rough by the look of his face. She’d seen a parent do it to their child and been charmed by the action; she seemed to think it was the human equivalent of being polished.

“Ugh, da-jie, stop that, I’m a grown-up – more to the point, I’m a grown-up that’s going to be running the sect for the next few days until da-ge’s concussion is better!”

Baxia held up two fingers.

“…two days?”

She shook her head.

“Two weeks?”

A nod.

“I – but – da-ge, you can’t do this to me!”

Yes, he could, Nie Mingjue thought with a smile that had some bite in it. And he would, too.

“But there’s a discussion conference about to happen!”

It was all planned out already – Nie Huaisang only needed to attend in his place. What was the problem?

“Da-ge! You get out of that saber this instant and talk to me!”

No.

“Da-ge!”

-

It wasn’t so much that Nie Mingjue had overlooked the question of the discussion conference, but rather he didn’t think it was especially relevant to him as a saber, and of course Baxia would just sit there and scowl at everyone, her aura so intimidating that no one would dare come near.

He overlooked only a single problem: that a discussion conference meant guests, and guests meant swords.

Talkative swords.

In a manner of speaking, anyway.

Nie Mingjue had grown accustomed to the strange way of seeing things that sabers had, more qi detection than actual vision; he had learned to adjust to the strange way that he could almost taste evil, the way his blade was a single jagged tooth eager to drink down blood; he had become familiar with having a body made of sharp steel, immune to pain but vulnerable to dents.

Despite that, hearing the other swords converse was – utterly bizarre.

It was one thing when all around him were the sabers of his Nie sect, since obviously Wei Wuxian didn’t carry one and the Wen sect didn’t either, and Lan Xichen was far too polite to carry his sword openly in the halls of the Unclean Realm. Those sabers surrounded him like a raindrop fallen into a well, familiar and comforting and just the same as him – the same implacable hatred of evil, the nuances of their personalities in greater or lesser degrees, often echoing their masters. They rarely conversed, merely affirmed each other upon meeting, a low subvocal purr of contentment to be around the like-minded.

(Aituan sounded like a rusty door, squeaking and yawning, but however weirdly good-naturedly he was, he was still a saber, with his share of bloodlust and hatred and rage buried deep inside his metal.)

The swords, however…

Shuoyue was a rippling brook, gentle and clear and perhaps a little shallow, a little too flexible, while Bichen in contrast was steady as the earth – more saber-like, despite the double edge. They emitted a feeling like the curved vowels of Gusu and the straightness of their sect rules, the serene mountains and the generous plains, pristine and perfect right up until they met some of their neighbors (the newly formed Su clain, for example) at which point it was all screech-screech-screech.

The rule against gossip in the Cloud Recesses apparently didn’t apply to their swords.

Nie Mingjue would have expected the Jin sect swords to be flashy and bright, as gilded on the inside as they were on the outside, but they were actually a fairly quiet lot. He wasn’t sure if it was their masters’ poor cultivation – though it could be, they were weaker as a general rule than the other sects – or something else lurking behind, some secret of cultivation that he oughtn’t know.

Suihua was fairly pleasant, though: bright and almost maternal in the way she fussed about her wielder, secretly adjusting herself to compensate for any weaknesses in his form. She got along surprisingly well with Aituan, which Nie Mingjue wouldn’t have guessed, and Baxia hummed a reluctant note of approval as well.

Perhaps he should consider cultivating more of a relationship with the young Jin Zixuan, with such an excellent recommendation. Sure, he wasn’t his sword – unlike sabers, which reflected their masters in full, swords seemed to be more of a concave image, similar but distorted to more or lesser degree depending on the distance between master and sword – but the sort of person who would cultivate a sword like that probably needed all the real friends he could get.

Sandu, in contrast, was something of a disaster, something that Nie Mingjue hadn’t expected and, in hindsight, really should have. The sheer amount of power that the sword exuded was impressive, and he was stalwart and true, another saber-like one, but unlike his combative, grumpy, and uptight (but generally well-meaning) master, he was aimless and gamboling, mischievous in a vague unintentional sort of way, liable to make trouble more by accident than on purpose.

Reminded him of Aituan, actually. Children among swords…

It was really a fascinating insight, he thought to himself, amused. He could use this to his advantage in the future, even though he wouldn’t, politically; it seemed an unfair advantage. But perhaps as a means of making friends…

Hmm.

Speaking of friends –

-

“I don’t understand,” Wei Wuxian said, looking from Baxia to Nie Mingjue and back, eyes so notably not darting towards his Suibian that it had to be intentional. “Suibian isn’t a saber.”

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, already regretting having returned to his human form simply because of the skull-wracking migraine the concussion had left behind. Plus, if Nie Huaisang ever found out that he’d been willing to return for this but not to do the paperwork, he’d find a way to stab him no matter how great the difference in their cultivation.  “She isn’t. But she’s willing to compromise.”

“…what?”

Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure how to explain it. “You’ve interacted with Baxia when she’s - uh - upright, yes?”

“Yes, of course. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that it was mostly her during the conference – she nearly made Sect Leader Yao cry, and didn’t say a word the entire time. I want to know her secret method.”

“I’m fairly sure her method is ‘be a saber’,” Nie Mingjue said dryly. “Still, my point is – would you say that you have an understanding of her? Baxia, as opposed to me?”

“I don’t think anyone can really understand –”

Nie Mingjue leveled him with a look.

“Okay, fine, yes. She’s got a lot of personality, your Baxia. What does that have to do with you wanting me to cultivate Suibian with your sect’s technique?”

“A variation on my sect’s technique, since I’m obviously not teaching you the main technique itself. My point is, during the conference I had the opportunity to converse with a number of different swords –”

“Hold up!” Wei Wuxian held up both his hands. “You talked to the - to people’s swords?!”

“It’s not really talking,” Nie Mingjue admitted. “They’re mostly not as sentient as Baxia, especially for the younger generation. But they still have spirits; they wouldn’t be spiritual weapons if they didn’t. Anyway, it occurred to me that you weren’t using Suibian because of –”

“That incident we do not discuss.”

“…yes, that. Without a golden core, it’s impossible for you to cultivate in the traditional Jiang sect sword style -”

“Wow. You just completely missed the hint that I didn’t want to talk about that.”

“It’s not missing a hint if I ignore it deliberately. Anyway, the fact that you’ve cultivated Suibian in that style for all these years means that they are accustomed to that style, but since by coincidence I was able to converse with the other swords, I thought it worthwhile to feel out if they would be willing to consider adopting a style variation on the Nie sect style, with more emphasis on utilizing resentful energy as swordsmanship.”

Wei Wuxian looked stricken. “You – think that’s possible? I – no, I tried, it doesn’t –”

“You trained your sword to resist outside influences, I know. You can’t not teach a sword that; obviously no one wants Suibian being controlled by any ghost, corpse or yao that happens by. But I think with me in the saber and you on the outside, we might be able to work out a method by which Suibian could distinguish between resentful energy generally and resentful energy being wielded by you. That woudl allow them to respond to that energy as if it was your own…”

Wei Wuxian was hugging him. Why was he hugging him?

“I’m going to switch to Baxia if you don’t let go,” he warned, and Wei Wuxian let go at once.

His eyes were teary.

“I would like that,” he said. “I would like that very much.”

[animeyanderelover]

This was requested, but the person wanted to be kept anonymous and anonymous they should be kept.

Request: I can’t choose between 31 and 33 for Chrollo. You can choose.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, manipulation, threatening, blackmailing, mentions of death, mentions of kidnapping

Prompt 33: “The next time someone touches you, I’ll chop their hands off!”

How long had it taken you to convince him? Weeks? Months? You couldn’t clearly remember, but the only thing you knew was that it was worth all the waiting and ‘favors’ you had to do. But you were finally out again! You were able to see other humans again, not only Chrollo and his troupe! Chrollo was sitting currently in the chair opposite from you, his nose stuck in a book. You on the other hand were busily looking around, taking everything you could see greedily in. The humans surrounding you seemed more interesting to you than every movie in this world, every little action they did made you excited. The cake standing in front of you was long forgotten, the only thing you hungered for was watching people do their daily activities. Chrollo noticed your excited look and chuckled slightly. “Are you really that excited to be here?” You hummed in response, not caring to look at him, too busy with staring at the other costumers in the small coffee shop.

Chrollo narrowed his eyes, clearly not enjoying that you didn’t pay any attention to him. He grabbed one of your hands and squeezed it slightly. You noticed quickly what he wanted and teared your gaze away from the other costumers and towards him. Chrollo gave you a pleased smile. “You seem to like it a bit too much to watch other people. Tell me, am I not enough?” Even though he still had his ‘Prince Charming smile’ you could clearly sense the dangerous undertone in his voice. You knew you had to be careful with your answer now if you didn’t want him to destroy this place. “It isn’t like this! You’re more than enough for me! You’re all I need! I just find the small things people do interesting. I like to pay attention to the small things.” You had started to sweat a bit, hoping he would let this answer count.

For a while he just looked at you before he slightly chuckled. “I’ll let your answer pass for now, but if you like to pay attention to the small things I can guarantee you that I’m much more interesting than all those other persons in here.” With these words he continued to read this book, but he still held your hand in his. You didn’t dare to look away from him, knowing that he wouldn’t be as forgiving the next time and from the small smile he had on his face you knew that he clearly enjoyed it to have your undivided attention. You sighed quietly and grabbed your fork, deciding to eat the piece of strawberry cake in front of you. And it tasted amazing! You knew that Chrollo could give you cake from the best bakers in the country if you would ask him to, but just the fact that this cake was served by a friendly lady who had given you a small smile made this cake taste like heaven. “If you like the cakes here, I’ll make sure to get them whenever you like.”, Chrollo told you without looking away from his book. “That-that sounds great.”, you tried to answer enthusiastically, but you knew that the cake would never taste the same if it wouldn’t be served by a friendly young man or woman who would give you a small smile and tell you to enjoy it. It wouldn’t be the same!

For a few moments you just sat there in silence before you mumbled:”Can I go to the toilets?” Chrollo looked up. “Of course, but before that you have to give me something.” You bit your tongue annoyed. Damn it! You should have expected this! Chrollo had already leaned closer to you, his warm breath hitting your face. You really didn’t want to do this, but this was an emergency. It would also give you a few minutes without him. That was all the motivation you needed. You pressed your lips on his and Chrollo was quick to grab your chin in his fingers to make sure you wouldn’t pull away immediately. He moved his lips greedily against yours and after a too long moment he pulled away. “You can go now.” You huffed angrily and stood up, making your way to the toilets. Everyone else would have used this as a chance to escape, but not you. You weren’t dumb enough to make the same mistake twice. Not after seeing how many lifes he had taken just to find you again... You sighed softly, remembering the times when you had been in love with him, the times were you had thought of him as the perfect boyfriend. But these times were sadly long gone. You relished in the feeling of being alone even if it just was for a few minutes. But sadly you knew that you couldn’t enjoy it too long or else Chrollo would come looking for you. And that was the last thing you wanted! So after you were done, you quickly hurried back, not wanting to make him worry. But somehow you managed to slip on the floor and a short yelp escaped your lips.

You closed your eyes and prepared to greet the floor, but nothing came. Instead you felt something wrapping around your waist. In the first moment you thought it was Chrollo, but when you turned around you were met with an unfamiliar young man. ‘‘Are you alright?’‘, he asked you with a worried expression on his face. ‘‘Thanks to you, I am.’‘, you replied with a grateful smile. The man scratched his neck sheepishly and mumbled:’‘I only did what everyone else would have done when he would have seen a pretty girl like you tripping.’‘ A small blush made it’s way on your face. That guy reminded you a bit of Chrollo when he had been pretending to be just a normal guy. That was probably the reason why you couldn’t help, but look dreamingly at this man. But you came quickly back to reality when you felt a strong arm around your waist and you were pulled against a well build body. ‘‘(y/n), who’s that?’‘ Oh no!

You slowly turned around to look at Chrollo, who was holding you possessively. ‘‘I-I-umm’‘ You didn’t know what to say, unable to form words in shock. ‘‘Is she your girlfriend? Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning to try to make a move on her. I just helped her because she was about to fall on the floor.’‘, the young man tried to calm Chrollo down. You looked at the man. He was so naive just like you were once. ‘‘Is that so?’‘, Chrollo asked with a soothing voice that could have fooled everyone. Only you were able to hear the barely audible dark undertone in it. That’s when you noticed the book he was holding in his hands. The book that had helped him to kill already enough people. You started to panick and glanced at the young man who was still standing there and gave Chrollo a curious look. You wanted to scream at him to run, but that would be useless against Chrollo. ‘‘Start thinking!’‘, you scolded yourself mentally. This man barely looked older than 25 which meant he hadn’t even lived his life yet! Flashbacks came back to you, flashbacks which hunted you until this day in your deepest dreams. All the painful cries, the pleading, screaming and blood. Nothing had proved useful against Chrollo and the troupe. They had killed merciless everyone back then who had helped you to escape in some way. And it had been all your fault. And you had sworn to yourself that that would never happen again. No one should ever die again because of you. Suddenly an idea popped up in your head. The idea didn’t please you at all, but it was a chance to save this man! ‘‘Chrollo...’‘, you called him and tugged on his suit. He turned his gaze away from the man and looked questiongly at you. You gulped the lump in your throat back. It was better to just get it over fastly.

So you quickly slammed your lips against his, hoping it would please him enough to let this man live. For a short second shock was visible on Chrollo’s face. He surely hadn’t expected this, but only moments after you felt him smirking against your lips. He quickly pulled you closer to him so that your bodies were pressed against each other. It was a very heated up kiss and from the corner of your eyes you could notice how everyone was looking at the both of you. Some looked embaressed, some looked disgusted, some jealous and some amused. You felt very embaressed yourself, but you endured for the sake of the boy. After at least a whole minute Chrollo pulled away, having a satisfied expression on his face. You on the other hand were a panting mess and your face was flushed. ‘‘Let’s go now (y/n). I already payed.’‘, Chrollo said with a charming smile and took your hand firmly in his. You hadn’t enough air in your lungs to answer so you just nodded. You had reached your goal, judging from the pleased look on his face. Chrollo quickly dragged you out of the small shop. For a few minutes both of you walked hand in hand in silence. ‘‘(y/n)?’‘, Chrollo suddenly asked. By now you had enough oxygen to answer him again. ‘‘Yes?’’, you asked him hesitantly. ‘‘The next time someone touches you, I’ll chop their hands off!’’

[the-fae-folk]

What is a Fairy?

I suppose they probably need some explanation, especially nowadays. Fairies (Faeries, Fay, Fey, Fae, or even Fair Folk) could be considered a type of mythical being. Some have described them as spirits, others as ghosts of the deceased, some deified ancestors, prehistoric precursors to humans, personifications of nature, pagan deities, or even angels and demons in the way of Christian traditions. Often they encompass a metaphysical aspect, being depicted as spirits or beings who transcend the physical universe and world that we know. Or given features of the Supernatural, such as magic or extrasensory perception, which allow them to violate or go beyond the laws of nature. Even sometimes Preternatural, which something abnormal or strange and explainable but still within the boundaries of the natural laws of the universe (for example I could say someone is a preternaturally good cellist, and mean that they are impossibly good beyond expectations or even belief, but I’m not saying that they are actually magical...just that their apparent abilities and how they gained them are unknown and very strange to me.) But what is a fairy? Well you already know what some of them look like. Many people might immediately picture Tinkerbell from the animated Disney feature film, or even from the original Peter Pan novel by J. M. Barrie. And they would be correct, in part. Tinkerbell is a depiction of a Pixie, a specific type of fairy. But there are lots of fairy types, I don’t actually think there’s a complete list. (I should probably try to make one at some point, but no promises.) During some points in history the label of fairy was used to mean magical beings who had a mostly human shape. Gnomes, leprechauns, goblins, pixies, dwarfs, elfs, etc etc etc. And at other points it also included non humanoid magical creatures such as Unicorns, Dragons, Kelpie, Basilisk, and more (Sometimes these were referred to as Fairy Creatures). So where did they come from? Well the funny thing is that Fairies don’t actually come from only one area or set of myths. They are a strange combination of the folklore from all over Europe (and possibly beyond) and include ideas and stories from Celtic, Scandinavian, Nordic, Germanic, French, and English Folklore and Mythology. As these stories were passed around and intermingled and changed they brought about the collective creatures we know today as the Fae or Fairies. The Renaissance, Romantic Era, Victorian Era, Edwardian Era, and even the Celtic Revival Movement of the 19th and 20th centuries all had their influences on the stories and ideas connected with the Fairy folk, some significantly less helpful than others. Even the Fantasy Literature Genre, with Tolkien at its forefront, has added and changed much about people’s view on these creatures. So lets talk about some basic things you’ll want to know when dealing with Fairies. The first thing you might want to remember is that many people view the Tuatha Dé Danann (Supernatural gods, goddesses, heroes, and kings of Irish Mythology) as being the source for Faeries, or at least one of the strongest influences. Celtic Folklore and culture is easily one of the most visible bits of Faerie lore that you can find these days, but there’s a lot more that starts showing up when you begin to dig. Another thing to note is that the Renaissance, Romantic Era, Victorian Era, Edwardian Era, and the Celtic Revival Movement had a massive influence on how people saw fairies. They would mix folklore from different areas of Europe, attempted to prove the existence of fairies through scientific means, created artistic depictions of fairies, and much more. Often they sanitized and shrunk the fairies until they were mostly harmless or relegated to the outskirts of human life as a curiosity. Which brings me to the next point. In a lot of older folklore, from all over Europe, fairy beings are often depicted as being incredibly dangerous. Kidnapping humans or human babies, causing crops to wither, water to dry up, food to rot. They could lure people in with magic into a fairy ring of mushrooms and make them dance forever or make them forget their life. Sometimes they even played with time itself. A person could dance with the fairies only to find that they’ve been gone a hundred years when they try to go home. And many beliefs have depictions of some kind of Otherworld, a world apart from our own, or layered over it like an extra dimension we are unable to perceive or directly interact with. Sometimes its a land of the dead or a hidden underground kingdom, other times is a strange and fantastical country with its own laws and ways of doing things. As these stories meshed together we got what is known as Fairyland. The land which the fairies dwell in. Though some believe they simply live on Earth, hidden in the wild, or among us. Some reoccurring ideas are often connected with fairies, though not all have stayed the same as the original lore they were born from. The idea that Faeries, for whatever reason, are unable to or will not lie. This is a very important idea because the Folk are also simultaneously depicted as deceptive. Like particularly vicious lawyers they will play with words, never quite lying, but purposefully leading you astray or tricking you into a bad deal. They will often obey an oath, promise, or deal exactly to the letter, but ignore the intent behind it in order to twist it to their own benefit or amusement. Whether or not fairies are immortal depends entirely on where you draw your folklore from. Sometimes they are immortal; deathless, not mortal. Unable to die in spite of starvation, terrible wounds, age, or anything else. They are bound to life for all time. But some stories depict the stranger Fae Folk as being Eternal. Beyond time, always having existed and always existing, sometimes cycling, sometimes directionless and boundless and everything. Some tough concepts to get your head around, but nobody really agrees which one fairies are. In some folklore they’re even depicted as mortal, same as you and I, but a lot longer lived and harder to kill. A reoccurring motif in older Folklore is the need of humans to try and ward off fairies with charms and totems. When they were not depicted as outright malicious and dangerous, sometimes being thought to cause illness and death or bring about disastrous misfortune or steal a person’s name and voice, fairies were still mischievous and valiantly unhelpful. So people had all kinds of lucky charms to protect from them: like four leaf clovers, various plants, or actions like wearing your clothes inside out to confuse them. Iron is said in many beliefs to burn them, and certain herbs they view as sacred and will refrain from touching the bearer. A few more things. Christianity plays an important part in this discussion, though many people don’t like that. In many places myths and legends were wiped out by Christianity, either intentionally or simply by the very fact that it was trying to convert people in Europe and old pagan beliefs were seen as nonsensical. But still stories persisted despite this. Many old Myths and Folkloric beliefs were recorded for posterity by Christians, and some stories were altered and we are unable to see exactly how much (Beowulf). A lot of fairy stories remained too, only Christianity painted them as fallen angels or even demons of a kind, who could be kept away from Holy Ground, or were forced to kidnap humans to pay a tithe to Hell (or be taken themselves if they couldn’t pay). So folk beliefs, though generally discouraged by the church as superstition, remained quite strong all over Europe for a very long time. The last three things you need to know. One, there are many people who still believe in Fairies, though their beliefs often vary, sometimes wildly. Witches who claim to work with them. People who believe in them through their religions (usually pagans and other non christian groups). People who claim to have encountered or been abducted by them. And many others. While I personally do not believe in Fairies (though I like to keep an open mind, just in case), I do believe that the beliefs, cultures, and and rights of these people ought to be respected. Which leads me to other mythical beings that are similar to Fairies but hail from cultures and peoples outside of Europe. It might be tempting to label some of the spirits from various Native North American Tribes or from Chinese Folklore (or many others) as fairies. Don’t do that. If Fairies are real, you have to consider that there might be other mythical beings who fall under different categories and groups. And even if they are not real, it is extremely disrespectful to the people of those cultures to take their stories, myths, beliefs, and folklore and try to mesh it in with European Folklore. (this is exactly what the Victorian and Edwardian Era were guilty of.) And finally... Some people might tell you that they know everything there is to know about Fairies. Don’t believe them. Even I, who have spent years and years studying European Faerie Folklore, find new things about them every day. I have sources I’ve found and haven’t yet had the time to look into, areas of study I’ve had to neglect. There is so much about Fairies to explore that it’s quite literally impossible for any one person to know all of it. Personally I’m doubtful that a single person can even know an eighth of it all, you can hardly imagine how much there is. And while there is a great deal of it buried on the internet, there is even more offline. Books which are out of print or have never had their contents uploaded, cultural stories passed down in various European groups which are saved from oblivion only by the oratory tradition, and the remains of all kinds of long dead or vastly changed civilizations who believed in the Fairies and tried to work with or avoid or appease them. All the misinformation and personal gnoses out there also make it a lot harder to find accurate information about traditional folklore. And that’s not even counting the multitude of inventions and ideas spawned by fictional literature surrounding fairies. There is simply too much. But of course... Since when has something being impossible ever stopped a human from trying anyway? If you’re still interested, then who am I to discourage you? Go, jump right in. There’s so much to learn about the Faerie Folk.