#<- do i dare even speak of this occuring. am i cursing them both. ?

[muirneach]

i need someone to avenge carlos so obviously i want grigor to lose but i cant fucking cheer for zverev 🤢🤢 so despite it all i remain cheering for grigor in the semi finals. astounding

[tadpoleatemybrain]

How In the Hells?

Astarion x gender-neutral Generi-Tav (I don't make good Tavs T_T)

Words: 1k-1.5k

Tw: pregnancy, mentions of abortion

"What?" The question left Astarion’s lips before he could even attempt to stop himself. Confusion and disbelief were transparent in his expression. Voice soft and questioning. Not the reaction anyone would have anticipated from someone who had just been told he was about to become a father. The doctor even seemed a bit surprised. Reactions to this particular revelation varied wildly, but they usually leaned more towards happiness or unhappiness, not disbelief.

"You're sure?" Tav questioned, seeming equally doubtful. 

"Yes, the tests were all positive. You’re pregnant." The doctor confirmed, growing a bit weary. Why was a couple with this configuration confused that pregnancy had occurred? Of course, said couple hadn’t been…entirely truthful. As they couldn’t know everyone’s general opinion on vampires it had been in their best interest to conceal that little detail. Mostly just covering the neck holes. Hoping the red eyes and paleness could be explained away.

"Yay, darling, we're so excited, aren't we?" Astarion said with feigned excitement, an attempt to gloss over his first reaction. A smile painted on as he took Tav's hand. Yet, both looked into each other's eyes bewildered. 

This wasn't a possibility they had ever considered and therefore taken no steps to prevent...obviously. They had assumed one partner being undead had removed that potential. Naturally throwing caution to the wind during what most would have considered their honeymoon. 

What a honeymoon it had been too. Traveling the coast, hunting monsters, resting in each other's arms every night. Just the two of them. Truly everything the couple could have hoped for and then some. It had only been cut short by Tav's sudden fatigue and consistent nausea. Quickly pivoting to getting to the closest settlement and seeking out whatever healer they had available. Fortunately, the first village they found had a doctor.

The pair listened to the doctor inform them of what to expect, what steps to take, and when they should come back for checkups. Yet, the words weren't quite sticking. How could they when the doctor was speaking on a normal pregnancy and nothing about this was normal. They didn’t dare to bring this up to the doctor either, doubting that he would have any experience on this topic.

When the two were finally alone again, the act dropped. Able to fully expose their confusion and panic. 

The two lines were spoken simultaneously. 

"How in the hells am I pregnant?!" 

"How in the hells are you pregnant?!" 

It was almost a relief for the two to share the sentiment. Able to trust each other enough not to minimize their reactions. However, their opinions on the matter couldn’t be any more different. One was filled with a sense of hope and joy and the other could only feel dread.

“This is…this is…wow. Unexpected definitely. Gods, what are we going to do?” Tav asked.

"Well, obviously, we need to get rid of it. The sooner, the better." Astarion stated. Firmly believing that nothing good could come of this. That this had to be some sort of fluke or worse some sort of curse. What would cause him to think any other way?

So many questions filled his mind. Who did one even call for that? How did that procedure even work in this scenario? Could it? Where would they have to go? If anyone knew this information it certainly couldn't be common. Hells Astarion didn’t even know a word for this whatever this thing inside of Tav was. Could it even be called a baby?

"What?" Tav asked as if the wind had been knocked out of them. This miraculous gift had been given to them, and he didn't want it? Shouldn't he be overjoyed? An opportunity to have a family together. Something they had thought they had to abandon. Yet here it was.

"You've already had one parasite inside you, you want another?" 

"A parasite?! It's a child! Our child!" Tav shouted. Clearly pissed at the comparison. A baby wasn’t a mind-flayer tadpole. 

“We have to assume it's at least partially a vampire and what do vampires need? Blood. Where is the blood Tav? Inside you. Where is the baby? Also inside you! Do you not see the problem?!”

"I've sustained you, haven't I?! I think I can handle another!" They retorted.

"That’s different. I have consciousness. I have control. I want to protect you. That-" He pointed to their stomach. 

"doesn't. All it wants to do is live and it will, even at your expense. Gods, why is this even an argument?!" The vampire replied exasperated. Running his hand through his hair. Why was he so much more concerned about the ramifications of this than Tav was? It was their life that was in jeopardy. They sunk into a chair. It would be a lie to say that they weren’t concerned at all. His points were valid, but there was a counterpoint to be made.

“What if it’s not even a vampire at all? What if that can’t be passed down? It could be a half-elf.” What if the elf part was all that could be passed on? If that was the case then the largest part of his concerns went out the window. A half-elf pregnancy wasn’t uncommon. Surely something any doctor could handle.

“That feels incredibly optimistic. Do forgive me for not sharing in it, but we have to think in the worst case.” Given how most things in his life had gone it wasn’t odd for him to believe that things would continue to go wrong. Optimism was still quite new to the vampire.

"Astarion, we can figure this out. One way or the other. After everything we've been through I think we can handle a baby. What if…what if we never have another chance?" Tav looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"We've been fine without it and we already planned a life without it. Why is that suddenly ch-" Tav cut him off.

"Because we didn't think we could, but now we can. That has changed everything." They stood up and took his hand.

"You're set on this aren't you?" He sighed as his thumb rubbed over the back of their hand.

"Please, can we at least try? If-if it gets bad we’ll get help.” There were a few people they could turn to. How helpful they would be in this particular instance…well that would remain to be seen. Of course, they were going to look into this as much as possible before they decided to get anyone else involved. There were dozens of libraries on the coast including Candlekeep, surely at least one of them would have something regarding this. However, getting into Candlekeep was easier said than done.

“Alright, but if this goes terribly I won’t hesitate. I just got you Tav, and I won’t be losing you so soon. I can’t…” Tav heard the break in his voice and pulled him into a hug. 

“I think you’re worrying too much. We just need to change some plans, do a little research and everything will be fine.” They said reassuringly.

“This does change all of our plans doesn’t it?” They couldn’t continue to travel and slay monsters with a little one in tow. Now they would have to consider settling down, getting steady jobs, and putting down roots. All things they had intended to do at some point, but now so much sooner than before and with one other to account for.

“Mhmm, but we’ve always been pretty good at adjusting plans.” Tav looked up at him with a soft smile.

“A rogue is nothing if not adaptable.” Astarion agreed.

[eng-eeveelution]

Speech vs Song Comparative Commentary

The first verse of the song and the second paragraph of the speech carry similarities, as both voices mention how their childhoods were driven by the existence and work of scientists. However, Scott mentions that she ‘comes from scientists, and atheists and white men who kill God’ whereas the speech states ‘I am driven by scientists, technologists, and scientists who dare to debunk the existence of God.’ The difference that these two have are that the song speaks in a more vulgar tone [kill God], and usually, singers treat the songs they sing as rants or a way to communicate their true, raw thoughts. This way, the things they sing aren’t filtered and can sound blunt and sometimes disrespectful. On the other hand, the speech doesn’t use vulgar language such as ‘kill God’ in order to refer to scientists who attempt to prove the existence God wrong by using scientific evidence. This is because the speech is targeted to people from people of all ages and most specifically, children [ the young geniuses and the young prodigies and the young talents ]. Due to the fact that Penelope Scott is American, the typical American household consists of Christians which includes Christian children. In the speech, her voice does not want to drive away the Christian households by saying that scientists ‘kill God’ [which cannot happen, and is plainly disrespectful to their religion], so I intentionally wrote it so that the original lyric was toned down and does not possess harshness and so families listen to the speech and not be offended by the mention of killing God [figuratively].

The structures of the song and the speech can be distinguished easily because the song is made into verses and aren’t typically filled with complex or long sentences in general (also affected by the fact this song is a Pop song and not a song with long verses, e.g rap). The speech is made out of paragraphs and can consist of long, complex/compound sentences which are most obviously, complete. The song is made out of verses of short lines in order to make the song rhythmic and aligned with the beat (fast paced, because it’s Pop). Moreover, singers would also need to take breaths in between sentences/after sentences and would have a harder time singing verses with long sentences — which is why songs are built out of short and sometimes, incomplete sentences per verse. Speeches do not have to be rhythmic (other than for rhymes and other rhetorical devices), but the vocal tone would not change, escalate or de-escalate as much as a song would; and speeches do not have a rhythm that must be followed, which would allow the speaker to take breaths and pause in any time throughout the speech.

The writer of the song skilfully uses the rhetorical device of repetition “I loved you, I loved you, I loved you, it’s true,” while the speech also says “I loved them” and “Blindly, I loved them.” The chorus of the song occurs twice and have different tones. The first chorus is softer and toned down, while it escalated to become intense and becomes angrier in the final chorus, even starting with the profanity “You dumb b_tch” to express anger and hatred towards the rich. In the speech, her voice calmly recounts and recalls when she blindly loved the technologist billionaires Jeff Bezos and Elon Musk. The reason I didn’t include a profanity was also so that children don’t get negatively influenced and turned away by the usage of curse words, and I also make the voice express her late love calmly, as if she has moved on from the fact that she used to be deeply infatuated with technologists, whereas the song repeatedly says “I loved you” as if she’s in the state of manic and denial.

[gojology]

— Gojo and Nanami | Their Insecurities

pairing : insecure gojo x gender neutral reader, insecure nanami x gender neutral reader warnings : unedited, probably some misspellings, maybe some cursing, i probably dont make sense at all wordcount : 1703 a/n : this is so bad dear god please forgive me for deeming this as content

GOJO SATORU ‧₊˚✩彡.

☆ Gojo’s insecure about his lack of bodyhair. His lack of facial hair and arm hair worries him. Being babyfaced wasn’t something positive in his eyes- no, he wishes he was physically more masculine.

   Your eyes meet his, the sun rays bathing both of you in an orange filtered light. His mouth is slightly opened, skin flush to the touch. After a night of intimacy, your ready for another round, pushing your palm towards his forehead. “Good morning, Satoru.” you say, voice slightly wavering even in the most private presence, without the formalities and what not, he’s surprisingly normal, and it’s taken you a bit to adjust to that. He’s warm, but it’s the good kind of warm, and it shows on his silly, dopey smile.

    You guess it wasn’t the time for more sex, so you resist your urges, directing the energy to something else.

    Gradually, your palms find themselves on his cheeks, and you pinch them slightly, giving him a look you hope is loving- because you really do mean it. Your rest assured, as the curve to his swollen lips grew even wider. The sounds of bird chirped as your fingers danced across his jawline, finally at your final stop, his chin. 

    You tip his chin up, and sure enough, hickeys are adorning his neck. A feeling of joy and honor fills you for a brief second, you were the one that was allowed to see him vulnerable, given the pass into his locked up heart. He finally breaks the silence between the two of you, pushing away your slack hand delicately. 

    It’s peculiar, there’s a tremble to his lips, like he’s scared, or about to burst into a fit of tears. You think it should be the other way around, but here you were, arms held close to your chest, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, bated breath preventing you from questioning the sudden change in tone. 

    “Hey, um, Y/N, weird ass question, but, am I hairy? Like, wooly mammoth hairy?” 

    You can’t tell if it’s sarcasm or not.

    Trying not to make a face, you shrug your shoulders. “Well, I mean, not really. You’re actually pretty nonhairy, in terms of uh... The average-” you pause, realizing how drastically his face fell. “-But I do like non-hairy guys! Who would wanna date a wooly mammoth anyways? Hey, baby..” you coo, giving him a tiny peck on the cheek, fluttering your eyelashes.     “What’s this about? Hey, you know, you can just be straightforward with me, I don’t mind.” 

    He doesn’t take a moment of hesitation, exasperatedly blurting out, “Does my lack of.. Hair, bother you?” but it seems he regrets it, your cheeks puffing up, stifling a giggle. Yet, he maintains the bone-chilling eye contact, his eyes are as vivid as ever, so blue it looked like the entrance to heaven. Your immediately lulled, whatever he was going to say was definitely urgent.

    “W-What? Are you being serious?” covering your mouth, your voice is muffled, but his face looks absolutely terrified, and you relish in how funny he looked. It wasn’t everyday that he was genuinely frightened, well, maybe he didn’t show it often.    “Of course not! Why would I be even remotely worried about bodyhair when I have something way more eye-catching in front of me?”

    The shock turns into a sheepish smile, returning for a second time, your heart melting instantly. He takes a long, deep breath, exhaling the tension away, tugging at the covers to go over his chest. You hadn’t realized that he had stolen more than half of the blanket for himself, but you don’t make a fuss about it. 

    For all the weight he carried on his sagging shoulders, you’re sure the warmth is appreciated. 

NANAMI KENTO ‧₊˚✩彡.

☆ Nanami thinks he’s a boring person, through and through. Outside of work, he doesn’t see why anyone would want him. Some days, he wonders if he should pick up on Gojo’s personality, telling jokes and being sarcastic and what not.

   The fine, white porcelain Nanami had gifted you was beautiful, to say the least. Nanami frequently shone it until it glimmered in the light, wiping any smudge or speck of dirt that dared to get on his beloved tea set that he gifted to you a few months prior. Gold trim, alongside depictions of birds fluttering about, and your favorite flowers. It’s perfect for you, and that’s why he had gotten it. His eyes had instantly brightened, picturing your beaming face as you served the two of you some tea.

   But he wonders, would you be happier if he perhaps gifted you something more up to date in comparison to the porcelain? He had enough money to buy you the world, bags, jewelry, he’d often used to hear stories of his co-workers giving their wives expensive, well, anything, and they’d be over the moon. A sudden realization grew inside of him at the thought of this:    

   Was he too out-of-date?    

   The thought went rampant in his usually collected mind, twisting and turning at night, only the sound of you, deep in sleep, could calm the troubled man down. As a consequence to his overthinking, he got little to no rest, and if he got little to no rest, his eyebags would turn their ugly, sneering faces in his direction.

     And so, as he’s baking tea cakes to go along with the afternoon tea the two of you would routinely drink, he’s going deep into depth of himself. He’s a good worker, good at...

     What was he good at? Aside from work, he can’t see why he’d be of use. Nanami acknowledges he’s stoic, which may be good in some cases, but often, everyone runs away from him because he appears as scary with those cold, calculating eyes. As opposed to Gojo, everyone enjoyed how lenient of a teacher he was. Well, Nanami isn’t sure on that, maybe aside from Megumi, Nobara, and Yuuji, everyone hated that. Regardless, him and Gojo don’t share something in common.

     Gojo has humor, and he doesn’t. 

     So why did you like him? 

     Nanami’s subconsciously drumming his long, bony fingers against the counter, eyes studying the ceiling like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Steadily, an acrid smell completely overwhelmed your senses- now, you’re hacking into your arm, and finally, Nanami comes back to Earth. 

     He blinks a few times, like he’s drinking in his surroundings, before he realizes the tea cakes are completely burning into a crisp.

Now, he’s on heightened alert, yanking open the handle to the oven and fanning out the flames with a random oven mitt he had hastily grabbed for. Beads of sweat are developing on his skin, before finally, you rush in, still hacking up a storm with a large pot of freezing water in your shaking hands.

     Nanami curses himself for ever appearing as informal, but then he remembers he’s infront of his significant other, he didn’t have to put on an act. His face relaxes, and he opens his mouth to speak, to apologize, but he’s paused- by you. You raise your palm up at him, the other hand opening up a window looking over the garden.

      “Nana.” he freezes completely, the affectionate nickname was specially reserved for confrontations like this. You spoke softly, which, for some reason, was significantly worse than you screaming into his ear. Your eyes follow suit, staring at his collar, loosening his tie. He winces, but Nanami’s not sure why he does. You had touched him millions of times, so why was it now that he didn’t accept it?

     “Yes, my love?” he finally breathes out, wrapping a strong, gentle arm around your waist just loosely. You place your thumb just below his lower lip, your index finger rubbing his plush lips all at the same time. The exchange is purely affectionate, yet, he’s still tense. 

    “What has gotten into you?” you murmur. 

    “I- Nothing, darling, I’ll bake another-” 

    “No.” is all you say before you grab him by the chin, unwavering. Usually, those piercing eyes of his are emotionless, something shocking. The eyes are the gateway to the soul, so why is it that it’s blocked off? But you guess it wasn’t the case here, he stared back with the same level of intensity, fear and peculiarity. You stay in that position for a little, savoring just how much you must mean to him, it wasn’t everyday he was vulnerable and let you inside.      Your breathing is heavy, eyelids heavy as well due to his routinely ruckus every night, but you’re determined to erase any trace there was left of that.       You kiss him. It’s sloppy, yet chaste. A fight for dominance usually occurs between the two of you, and almost routinely, Nanami wins, but this time, he lets you do the work. 

   Your lips never once trail away from his own. Heavy breathing through nostrils, hands roaming where it shouldn’t at such an early time, but who gave a fuck about the rules? It wasn’t a workplace, and you’d never let it be one. He clings onto your figure, you savor his muscular physique. Not once do his hands not roam, your flesh was his, and his was yours. 

    Finally, you pull away, heat rising to your cheeks, tears are beginning to dawn on your glassy eyes. “I’ve listened to you roll around in bed every night, mumbling shit about how you don’t see why I’d want you. You better donate your eyes and brain to charity right now.” 

   This wasn’t the reaction, or beatdown he was expecting. He flinches at the vivid image he got of you gouging out his eyeballs. “...Why must I do that? 

   “Because, you don’t use them, obviously. If you took a fucking second of your life to look deeper into your personality below the surface level, you’d see how fucking amazing you are and I love you for that.” 

   Shaking your head furiously, you shush him up yet again when he finally decides to speak up, tears are beginning to spill down your cheeks. “Shut up, Nana. Shut. Up.” pulling him in for another kiss, your hands grabbing at his shoulder like he was going to let go. 

   But he never did. 

[ikeromantic]

Following Orders

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction, approx. 2200 words. This scene occurs between Ch. 12 and 13 of the romantic route - featuring Kyubei! And Motonari! Spoilers Ahead!

P.S. I took some liberties with this chapter ^_^

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Siege

Kyubei rubbed a hand over the skin of his head. It felt cold in the pre-dawn breeze, unused to being exposed. Shaving a receding hair line was a necessary sacrifice to ensure he wasn’t recognized. Between that and the scraggly beginnings of a beard, his own mother would have trouble picking him out from the other guards.

For his patrol, he’d picked a spot near enough to the shogun’s chamber to overhear most of what went on within, but out of Ashikaga’s line of sight. Perfect to keep a low profile and gather intelligence. Mitsuhide already had the bulk of what Kyubei knew - all written in cipher and left in the cache in the orchard. Things were going as planned. Or . . . they had been.

This morning he could tell something was amiss. Instead of the usual morning routine of servants going in to prepare the shogun’s clothes and food, to bathe and dress Ashikaga, the hall was eerily still and silent. Yoshiaki sat alone in the audience hall, his eyes red from lack of sleep, his face set in hard, angry lines.

Kyubei expected more activity, especially after the discovery yesterday that the estate was surrounded by enemies, isolated from help. This stillness was troubling. It meant he’d missed something. He didn’t have long to wonder what.

A man hurried into the hall from one of the secret doors nearby. This one let out near the guardhouse, but the man wasn’t a guard. He was Yoshiaki’s messenger - a man Kyubei felt certain was ninja. His presence here had not been a pleasant discovery, and it seemed Kyubei’s fears were now realized.

The messenger carried a woman slung over his shoulder. Though her face was badly bruised, and hair hid her features, Kyubei recognized her. The chatelaine, and his lord’s fiancee.

It was difficult to resist his first urge to disembowel Yoshiaki’s man, take the girl, and run. His orders were to infiltrate and inform - if he acted now, he’d be no use to his lord. He had to be smart about this. Kyubei followed the messenger into the shogun’s chamber.

The chatelaine was tossed to the floor like a sack of rice. Her hands were tied tight at the wrist, anchored by rope to her feet. Kyubei could see where she’d begun to bleed. He wanted to tell her he was here, that she would be alright. But instead he knelt beside her, quickly checking her for weapons just as a guard would do.

Ashikaga’s eyes went wide as he took in his prize. He didn’t even seem to see the messenger or Kyubei. “Well done.” He stood and walked from the dais. He stopped at her feet, an unpleasant smile curling his lips. “Leave me.”

“Yes, excellency.” The messenger bowed low, and backed away.

Kyubei knew he would be expected to go to, but he couldn’t simply leave her here. Not like this. Not with the shogun ready to visit every humiliation on her, flesh and spirit. He backed away to the door, but stayed beside it, as if he would protect the shogun from intrusion.

The chatelaine glared up at him from one eye. The other was swelled shut, bruised the color of overripe plums. She struggled up to sit on her knees, never taking her eye from the shogun. Had she not been gagged, she would have spoken. Or spit at him.

Yoshiaki regarded her with disdain. “Keep your head down! How dare you raise your eyes to me without my permission.” His voice was a strained hiss.

“Mmf-ing mmll,” she growled back at him. She didn’t look down either. Somehow, Kyubei didn’t think that was an apology. He couldn’t help a small burst of pride at how she held her own, even now.

“What insolence!” Yoshiaki slapped her with his fan. Her cheek reddened from the blow, as much from humiliation as the slap. “Even animals have better manners.” He stared down at her and shook his head. “To think this pitiful creature is the result of lax rule under Nobunaga.”

The chatelaine tried to reach for Ashikaga - to do what, Kyubei could only imagine - but she couldn’t even come close.

Yoshiaki pushed her with one slippered foot and she fell back, smacking her head on the floor. “Peasants exist to serve their betters with good behavior. You are proof I am needed to lead this land back onto the right path.”

Kyubei held himself rigidly still. He dared not act unless absolutely necessary, but this was harder than he expected. All he could do was watch Ashikaga for now. But if he looked like he might kill the chatelaine, then he would die.

“As the traitor’s fiancee, I am certain you are aware he has this castle surrounded?” Yoshiaki paced slowly around the fallen girl, circling her.

“Ahh mmoe mme mlls uuh,” she said around the gag.

The shogun laughed, his pitch high and false. “You should hope that he cares for you enough not to get you killed, if you hope for anything.” He squatted down, staring intently at her face. “For each day he keeps me under siege, I will send him a piece of you. Should we start here?” He brushed a hand over her lips.

“Ah, excellency? Fingers or - or ears are traditional,” Kyubei stuttered. Not that he wanted her to lose those either. But he felt he had to intervene.

Ashikaga glanced up, his expression one of annoyance. “You must belong to the daimyo here. My men know when to keep silent.”

Kyubei bowed low and stepped back to his position. Every muscle in his body was taut and ready to spring into action at the first sign of violence from the shogun. He didn’t think his chances were good if he was forced to act now, but there was no way he was going to stand and watch Yoshiaki cut a piece from the chatelaine.

Whatever the shogun planned to do next, the chatelaine changed his mind. She brought her bound hands up to slam into his chest, rocking him back a step.

Yoshiaki straightened, his face crimson with rage. “You touched me! You . . .” He snarled incoherently, unable to speak an insult great enough for this affront.

Kyubei saw his opening. It was a risk, but worth it. He lunged forward and grabbed the chatelaine by the shoulders, slipping her onto her belly. He set a knee on her back, though he kept his weight off her. “Shall I kill her, excellency?”

“No.” Yoshiaki was literally shaking with rage. “I need her alive until that kitsune arrives.”

“Then let me humble her for you.” Kyubei leered down at the captive girl and licked his lips suggestively.

After a moment, Yoshiaki nodded. Though his face was still red, a slight smile returned to his lips. “Yes. Take her and let the men use her. You may do whatever you want, so long as she lives.”

Kyubei bowed. “It will be my pleasure.” Then he picked her up and put her over his shoulder.

The chatelaine kicked at him, cursing from under her gag. Beneath her show of anger, she trembled too. With fear.

It was a long way to the storage sheds, but Kyubei hurried there as fast as he could. It wasn’t that fast, not with a squirming chatelaine on his shoulder. He passed a few of the castle servants and one sleepy guard, but no one seemed to take note or care that he had a bound woman with him. When he got to one of the empty buildings, he pulled open the door and stepped inside.

The chatelaine had quieted down by now, but she was glaring at him like an angry snake. Kyubei set her gently against the back wall. He tore her kimono, baring one of her shoulders. The skin there was bruised too, he thought darkly. And he removed her gag.

“Mitsuhide will kill you too,” she said hoarsely. Her lips and tongue were swollen.

“I’m sure he will.” Kyubei gave her a drink of water, which she accepted reluctantly. Then he reached for her bound hands.

“Don’t touch me,” she yelped and tried to push him away.

Kyubei stepped back and frowned. He didn’t want to reveal himself to her - not when there was still danger for both of them. But he needed to get those bonds off her too. “Look - I’m just going to untie you. Nothing else. For now.” He gave an evil smile. “I’m on duty until noon. After that . . .”

The chatelaine spat at him. “I would die first.”

“And you might.” Kyubei grabbed her arms and held her still while he cut the binds from them and from her feet.

She rubbed her wrists, hurt and angry and clearly exhausted. Despite that, he was fairly sure she was planning to try to escape. Already figuring out how to get past him, and whether she thought she could run.

“You will stay here. Quietly,” Kyubei told her.

“Or what?”

“Or I . . . I follow my orders.” He narrowed his eyes and slowly looked her over. “I follow them right now. And when I finish with you, I have a lot of friends.” Kyubei felt disgusted with himself and how well he was playing this role. But he had to keep her quiet, even if it meant terrifying her.

The chatelaine pulled her knees up to her chest. Fear and anger played across her mouth as she tried to decide how to respond. “I’m not . . . not afraid of you. Or your friends. Mitsuhide will come and he will stop you and your disgusting lord.”

Kyubei smirked. “We’ll see.” Then he set down his water gourd and went out the door. He closed it and tied it shut. Then he carried some heavy crates to set in front of the door too. Just enough to dissuade anyone from trying to go in. “Girl, you should stay very quiet now. I am leaving. If someone else finds you before I come back, it will be worse for you.”

The chatelaine was silent.

***

Motonari sprawled against a tree trunk, listening with half an ear to the day’s reports from his scouts.

“I thought I heard a woman just before sunrise. Might o’ been a rabbit . . .” He was saying.

“Ya can’t tell the difference between a rabbit and a girl?”

The scout gave a half-hearted shrug. “Well . . . it sounded like a woman. But there ain’t women out here so it couldn’t be.”

With a look of disgust, Motonari motioned the scout away. It seemed someone managed to get through their barricade. Though he had no proof to speak of, the pirate knew without a doubt the little Oda princess was involved. But he needed more to go on than his gut. The abbot and the kitsune wouldn’t act on that alone.

He was about to go looking when Kennyo walked into camp. The abbot’s frown was deep, his jaw set in hard lines.

“Mitsuhide!” Kennyo called in his low, grumbling voice.

The kitsune stirred from his tent after a moment. Despite his wrinkled clothes and mussed hair, he managed to look elegant. “What has happened?”

The abbot tossed him a sandal.

Mitsuhide caught it, his expression turning from annoyance to unhappy surprise.

Motonari tilted his head, curiosity peaked. “What is that?”

“A woman’s sandal, with a broken strap.” Kennyo replied. “It was discovered near the castle late this morning. It was not there earlier.”

This was about the location Motonari’s man had heard the ‘rabbit.’ He tried hard not to grin. If anything would get this battle started, this was it. Finally.

“There’s no doubt,” Mitsuhide said softly, turning the small shoe over in his hands. “This is . . . it belongs to my little mouse.”

“Huh. So Ashikaga’s got somebody with enough skill to get past us, carrying a hostage even.” He couldn’t keep the admiration out of his voice. “Be real fun to kill that one.”

Kennyo ignored Motonari. “Will he negotiate for peace in exchange for her life?”

“Negotiate? The shogun?” Mouri laughed. The idea of that man asking for anything was hilarious. Ashikaga didn’t ask - he simply took. “More like he’ll use her as a human shield.”

“What is your plan, Mitsuhide?” The abbot waited to see what the kitsune warlord would say.

Motonari waited as well, if less patiently.

“I believe our enemy has just given us a reason to stop playing nice with him.” Mitsuhide’s golden eyes glowed with the heat of his anger. They fixed on Mouri. “It appears your boredom is at an end.”

“Finally!” Motonari didn’t wait for him to change his mind. He turned on his heel, giving his men the signal to arm up and get moving.

Kennyo looked surprised. “You would abandon strategy and attack now?”

“We cannot delay. Not even for dawn. I won’t keep my darling little one waiting for me.” His mouth turned up at the edges in a sharp smile.

“You don’t sound as desperate as I thought you would,” Kennyo replied. It was impossible to know what he thought about that.

Mitsuhide nodded once. “I have never been calmer. Now come. We must use whatever means necessary to rescue her - and to make the shogun regret his actions.”

The abbot turned to rally his men. There was nothing more that needed to be said.

Motonari didn’t worry too much about Mitsuhide’s state of mind, or the abbot’s judgement. He rushed into the orchard and toward the fortress, eager for the bloodshed to begin. This was going to be fun.

Next: Base Villains

[twisted-tales-of-all]

Jumping Universes

Chapter Five

The fifth installment of the story uses 2.7k words to recount the events that occur to the other two characters (Sage and Wooyoung) after they learned that their friends jumped. Deciding to follow them, they jump into a world where the roles of Sage’s world feel reversed. Sage has to work around suddenly being a famous idol, but they find another member among the chaos - who claims he’s a fan of Sage’s! Be aware of both a forced death (suicide via monoxide poisoning) and unplanned death (via plane crash) in this installment, as well as language warnings, and discussion of deeper topics (homophobia, bullying, family issues, etc.).

“ You’re my fan? But I’m yours! ”

Masterlist

"Now what? We have to follow them, right?" Wooyoung asks as they stand in front of their comatose friends.

"Yeah, we do. At least we know it isn't always death for our bodies in the worlds we jump from. That's helpful info." Sage responds, her eyes stuck on Chantel's body, trying desperately to force her mind to accept that the person she knows is no longer contained within.

"Got a plan? We should do it as soon as possible. Who knows how time translates across worlds."

Snapping back to reality thanks to his words, Sage nods and begins walking to the exit. Wooyoung follows just a step behind, humming to himself due to his nerves. Once they make it outside of the hospital, Sage explains the plan, carefully choosing her words so strangers don't catch wind of a suicide plan. The duo splits to buy different items to help prevent questioning, meeting up with their supplies at Wooyoung's small apartment. As Sage inspects the rooms, she deems the bathroom their best bet.

Sage closes the window tight and seals the door shut with duct tape. During that time, Wooyoung sets up the portable stove, filling it with charcoal. Once everything is in place, they light the stove and wait.

For the first hour, they sit in silence. However, tired of waiting, Sage starts asking Wooyoung questions about his original world.

"It wasn't anything special." He claims, scoffing as he adds, "I was quite happy after finding myself in another world, actually."

Debating with herself over asking her burning question, Sage stays silent longer than planned. Wooyoung sees the internal struggle painted in bold font on her face and answers her unasked question.

"I killed myself. I was sick of the bullying - wanted an escape. Fate gave it to me. I woke up in a much better place."

"Bullying? Can I ask why?"

"A year prior, someone outed me to the school. Heterosexuality is the norm in my world. Homophobia came quickly, and even some people who were close friends turned against me. After a few months, they realized I could plug in my earbuds and tune them out, so the meanest of the bullies turned physical." He speaks nonchalantly as if describing a movie plot rather than his own life. "It was still pretty tolerable up until my parents found out. Good parents would've been concerned for their kid's injuries, but mine cared more about my 'disgusting habits' and added to the bullying. My mother was crying every day, praying to something - anything, really - that her son would come to his senses. My step-father hurled insults relentlessly, cursing me and my dead father. He never stopped blaming my dad's bloodline for my sexuality. I couldn't take it anymore."

Sage doesn't dare ask for the method. She has learned enough to make her stomach turn, and the carbon monoxide in the air only makes her feel worse. She softly apologizes for his terrifying past, offering a hug that he declines.

"It feels fake at this point - like a bad dream. When I woke up as a butler with a baker as a boyfriend, I immediately accepted my new truth. When you and Chantel came, I knew that truth would shatter again. And here I am again, fading out of another reality." His voice softens at the end, joined by his eyes closing.

Sage follows his lead and closes her eyes, too. She feels the brain haze deepen as she does so. The two remain silent from that point, too sick to speak or move. Slowly, they both fade away, feeling as if they're falling asleep after a long, tiring day.

Wooyoung awakens and smiles to himself. Telling someone about his past life feels freeing, so he sits up with a feeling of being lighter. Quickly, he messages Sage with a screen capture of his current location. She responds a few minutes later with a similar picture, pointing out that they live in the same community. She sends another message explaining that her text to Chantel won't deliver.

"Fuck, they're somewhere else," Wooyoung concludes, voicing his thoughts aloud to the empty room.

He replies to the messages with a false claim that he's already on his way to her home. This forces him to get up, get dressed, and leave. However, he only makes it to her street before seeing a group of people sitting on the sidewalks and in the street. With a little inspection, he realizes that some of them hold signs with Sage's name or face on them, so he calls her.

"What's up? You here?"

"Kinda. Have you looked outside? There's a bit of a roadblock in between me and your house."

Wooyoung hears the movement from Sage's end, catching an uproar of screams from the group at the same time as she opens her curtains to look out from the second-floor bedroom.

"What on earth?!" She yells into the speaker, paired with rustling in the background to return the curtain to its original state.

Wooyoung flinches away from the phone due to the volume but laughs as he explains, "Looks like you're an idol now. And here you thought I was."

"I'm gonna try jumping through the backyard. Go to the next street over. I'll meet you there." Sage abruptly hangs up, not even acknowledging the ironic joke Wooyoung made.

Realizing that she'll have to hide if she's famous enough to have a mob outside of her home, she decks herself out in a baggy black outfit, paired with a matching hat, mask, and sunglasses. She curses under her breath as she sees the fence she has to jump to escape through her neighbor's yard but finds a pile of junk in the corner to assist her. Walking outside, she hears a dog past the fence, making matters worse. Due to her fear of the creature, she jumps into the yard diagonally behind hers, running quickly to avoid being caught in a stranger's backyard. As she reaches the sidewalk, she stops to catch her breath.

Wooyoung casually strolls up to her, joking, "The fantastic life of being famous. You must love it."

"Shut up." She barks back, standing upright again to glare at his smiling face.

"Where are we hiding? I'm sure you have fans everywhere."

"Normally, I'd suggest your house, but I'm hungry. Let's find somewhere to eat, yeah?"

Wooyoung searches the internet for food, using his location to narrow the search to nearby restaurants. Finding one that sounds good, he tilts the screen to Sage, who agrees. They follow the GPS to their selection, finding it during one of their slow hours. Only waiting ten minutes to be seated, their luck feels short-lived when Sage hears the servers whispering about her. She had removed her sunglasses once inside but didn't expect to be recognized so easily.

She lowers her head as their server approaches, asking for drink orders. They both order a glass of iced green tea, and they have their food order ready as he returns. Wooyoung orders for both of them, per Sage's request. She explains herself once the server walks away again, but he commends the server on his professionalism if he is her fan. Despite his comment, Sage continues the rest of their time in the restaurant with her head down.

When Sage checks the bill, she finds the server's number scribbled across the top. She scoffs at his confidence but stares at the number for longer than usual. For some reason, she recognizes it, but she can't figure out why. She keeps the receipt out of curiosity, and the duo leaves. They make their way to Wooyoung's house, but the number keeps pricking at Sage's mind. After settling down in the living room, she informs Wooyoung.

"Did you check the list? Maybe it's a number on there." He offers casually, thinking nothing of it.

As she opens her contact list, she finds the number shining at her on the top of the page, "What was our server's name again? I gotta add him to the list."

"Wait, really? I was half-joking. It was Yunho; his name is Yunho."

Sage faceplants into the phone, "Of course it is."

At this point, Sage thinks the universe - or universes, or whatever - is playing with her. First, Wooyoung. Now, Mingi and Yunho too? It's as if she's in some twisted game for TV, a collect-the-members skit to trick the ATEEZ fans. Although she knows that it can't be true, she looks for hidden cameras in the room, just in case. When Wooyoung questions her, she jokes that it feels like she's collecting the members, but he reminds her that nobody had heard of the band outside of her universe.

They wait until the next morning to send Yunho a message, asking whether he'd like to meet up as thanks for him being respectful and letting them eat in peace despite being Sage's fan. Sage sends him an address to a private airport strip, where the idol has a private jet. He graciously accepts and meets the duo at the entrance. Wooyoung can't help but laugh, seeing Yunho dressed up - clearly as an attempt to whoo his idol. Sage doesn't notice the attempt, however, assuming that it's his usual attire.

"Sorry for avoiding talking to you last night. I had overheard you telling a coworker that you're a fan, so I was worried you'd freak out. There are quite a few people who go overboard in the fandom."

Yunho scratches an invisible itch on the back of his head as he nervously answers, "Yeah, I have friends who stake out your house. I can't believe them for it; if you like someone, why would you inconvenience them like that? Plus, I think that celebrities are still normal people, so I don't get the obsession with them. People put these complete strangers on a pedestal for no reason."

"I like the way you think, bud. Heck, Sage isn't even really an idol." Wooyoung chimes in, hinting at their reality to see how he reacts.

Confused and slightly peeved, Yunho asks what he means. Sage insists that they'll explain on the plane. She begins rushing them in as she spots a small group approaching with cameras. As she falls into one of the seats, she sighs deeply, adding that she's glad she wasn't born into this life, which further confuses Yunho. He sits there, mouth open, but the words get jumbled and lost in his mind before he can ask anything.

"We've been jumping dimensions." Wooyoung declares after noticing the lost boy, "It may be hard to believe or comprehend, but this world isn't ours. Sage isn't an idol. In fact, in her world, you and I are, apparently."

Yunho, proving to be the most accepting person either of them has met, unloads a stream of questioning, "How does it happen? How many dimensions have you been through? Is there anyone else who can do it? Is there something to know whether someone else has the ability?"

Sage laughs at his curiosity, enjoying it more than the flat-out denial, like with Mingi, so she answers, "So, we'll save that first question for later, but I'll answer the rest to the best of my abilities. Counting my original world, this is my fifth jump."

"It's my fourth!" Wooyoung jumps in, interrupting her.

After a slight eye roll, she continues, "As far as people, we suspect that there will be ten in total, but we only know of five right now: me, Wooyoung, my best friend Chantel, this guy named Mingi, and you. We figure out when we gather everyone's numbers. You see, our phones automatically change to only nine saved numbers, and there aren't any names. So, we only barely found out that you have the ability as well." Yunho just waits as Sage continues, "Which brings us to your original question. While it all may seem super fun, the way to use the power makes it all questionable. It'd be nice to be able to choose when we switch worlds, but the reality is that we have to face death in order to do so. We can use self-inflicted methods - as Wooyoung and I have used on multiple occasions - or accidental instances, and it seems that those who die together travel to the same world. Mingi and Chantel were hit by a car in the last life, but we didn't find them here when we followed on our own."

Strangely enough, Yunho's excitement doesn't dim after finding that out. In fact, the news may have made him more interested.

"So, we're immortal, too? That sounds so cool! I'm like a superhero! Or- I'm like a low-level god! Not very powerful, but I can't really die."

"Woah, woah. We don't know how long the power lasts. We have no clue if we have a set amount of jumps or if it stops when all the contacts have names or what. Don't just go around dying without thinking about it." Wooyoung warns, calming the boy slightly.

"Yeah, makes sense. Sorry, it's just exciting."

"You have a strange mind." Sage points out, baffled by his overwhelmingly positive reaction.

Yunho just laughs, hearing similar comments throughout his life and growing accustomed to confusing people for simply existing a certain way. Deep down, he knows that people don't mean anything by the comments, but they always sting for a few seconds. Frankly, people confuse him as much as he confuses them, but telling them won't feel the same when they're usually considered normal.

After a few minutes of mindless chatter, the plane starts shaking. A flight attendant announces the turbulence over the intercom and instructs everyone to stay seated with their seatbelts securely fastened. The turbulence lessens after a bit, only to come back even stronger moments later. Sage curses, claiming that she hasn't experienced turbulence this badly before.

Suddenly, the intercom turns on again, with the pilot speaking, "Please, remain calm. We are experiencing issues due to passing through the storm. Brace yourselves for anything that can occur. We're desperately trying to save the aircraft from crash landing, but you're in for a very bumpy ride at best."

Sage worries about the workers, hoping that their jump doesn't also mean the deaths of those around them. Wooyoung works on calming her down, but Yunho's continuous positivity throws him for a loop as well.

"How are you not even nervous?!" He screams at the taller boy in frustration.

"Oh, I am, but I'm not angry. If this is meant to happen, there's no use in freaking out, right? It's the same thing as me serving my idol. Clearly, it was meant to happen, as you needed to find me somehow. Now, we have to face death and switch worlds eventually, right? If it's now, so be it."

Yunho's unusual response calms Sage drastically. Her tensed shoulders droop again, and the fear disappears from her eyes.

"Y'know, you're right. It's not our fault if it happens; we didn't rig the plane or bring forth a storm. If this happens, that means it was already meant to happen anyway. That's such a good way to look at things, Yunho." She smiles at him as she thanks him, both of them looking past a very confused Wooyoung next to them.

After muttering something about the situation under his breath, Wooyoung tries to relax. As he closes his eyes, Yunho points out the ground quickly rising in the window's view. After a few more minutes of rough, lurching air time, a loud screech rumbles under them as the plane's underside scrapes against the concrete, sending a trail of sparks in their wake. The intercom sounds again, but the pilot can't get a word out before the plane catches fire, bits of metal exploding from all around the group. Wooyoung and Yunho both have their eyes closed at this point, with a line of blood streaming down Yunho's face from where something cut him in the chaos. Sage keeps her eyes open until they're forced closed by the smoke, but she's pelted in the stomach by a cold, solid object shortly after, and the noise quiets suddenly once again.

[rosyk]

Deja vu

pairing: bang chan x reader, (a bit of han jisung x reader)

genre: heavy angst, passion, romance, one-sided love, bestfriends, long distance relationship

warnings: light curses, death, depression, mentions of alcohol and drugs, family problems, mentions of forced sexual activity, insecurities, anxiety, etc. (Its quite detailed in the first part and could trigger some people in these type and if you are one of them, I advice you not to read. It can really be uncomfortable on the first part)

word count: 11.5k

inspiration: Before We Knew It ch. 36-38 (webtoon), White Flowers- Olivia Rodrigo (unreleased song)

a/n: This is the least fic I loved but I had to continue it to start a new one and i won’t ever write things as long as this (it’s hard) lol. I don’t know who’ll ever read this long and cringey story but I hope it’s worth your time (?)

1

  If I were to describe a man I’d love to marry someday, it would be someone tall, doesn’t openly show their true feelings towards me, and leads me in life. However, you were the exact opposite of it.

I didn’t even know when and why I fell in love with you. Was it at first sight? No. Was it because someone told me about my indistinguishable feelings for you? No. It was like how love was portrayed in novels and books. I just knew it. Instead of leading my life, you made me, myself, want to lead and search for my future. After you happily talked about your passion for music, you made me feel as if you were the right one. It made me think, “Maybe I do want to be with him until the end of life”. I believe something great would occur and I want to be there when that happens. When the music he produces, raps he created, genres he invented, and when his voice reaches the world, I want to be on his side and be proud I was able to witness all of that. You were everything in times I was the “nothing”.

I truly wished to be a singer right from the start. My dream was unaccepted by my family because the job isn’t as stable as it seems. I had to study medicine since then. Therefore seeing you was like seeing how I could’ve been. I stopped my passion but you made me pursue the unpursued, break off the imaginary limits I had created in my mind. I developed a fear of having to try again. I never sang after years and tried to let go of my past. But you? You lifted me away from the cage of darkness I trapped myself in. My anxiety was too deep to the point I was afraid of people, nightmares, thoughts, happiness, living, being alone, home, and simply just everything.

Even I was scared of myself.

  Then I knew this is the worst a person could be. It isn’t when someone takes drugs, drinks alcohol, or flees away from home. It is when he or she no longer wants to take a step forward. I was frightened by the idea of love but also the idea of being alone. I was terrified to open up when the people closest to me never understood but was scared when I keep everything to myself too much up until I’m tired. I feared death the most, how much more if I was living? I remember cutting myself in bed when I overheard my parents fighting because of my presence. I was shaking, desperately trying to suppress my weeping. Was I sad because I didn’t have good childhood memories I could reminisce? Or was I happy for myself because that was the bravest thing I did? I was too young to understand what I truly felt but I didn’t regret a single thing.

I know the difference between wrong and right but why can’t I tell when it comes to situations that involve me? Is it wrong to think it would’ve been best if I was sleeping forever, in a depth of endless time even though I know I should live for a purpose I couldn’t find or for people who don’t care? But is it also right to live and hope miserably someone out there would find and help me even though it means staying and coping with the pain? Whenever I make a decision, I could hear trapped voices rambling in my head, time ticking as fast as my heartbeat, my soul pressuring me, and my mind that creates negative scenarios which cause me to step back before even having the chance to run. In general, I’ve had to overthink my overthinking.

I also have the habit of blaming myself. As deeper as it goes, it became my lifestyle then. I blamed myself for playing the victim as if I was the only one hurting amidst the world. I blamed myself for crying when I had no right because I gave people terrible occurrences.  I blamed myself for the inability to be brave and commit what I feared the most. I also blamed myself for silently not crying loud enough to the point that my facade turned out stronger.

Looking back, I was a total mess in which I couldn’t even call myself human. My only best friends were the mirror and my own shadow. I was 10 so I appreciated how the mirror felt the same feelings as mine. It doesn’t laugh when I cry even though the creatures surrounding me do. But for the same reason, I hated it. It reflects my despair, how horrible I looked causing me to despise it the most. My shadow on the other hand makes me feel I’m not alone at the end of the day. But I also despised it the moment my mom locked me up in my room, isolating me in darkness to forget all the traumas I had given her. Because even the shadow disappears in my darkest hours. And just like friends, it all just ended. I no longer want to feel love if love was meant to hurt.

  Years of living in hell passed by, until you came.

“You okay?”

  I was crying at the staircase in the nearest tunnel found at school. I was a 16-year-old who tried to break away from my dad’s drunken behavior. Running away was another brave thing I did but it was because the thought of him doing me was scary enough.

It was embarrassing to let you see me like this but surprise was the first reaction I had. No one ever dared to approach me because of my low status and the suspicious silence that I give. Questions filled my head as to why you bothered talking to me. Were the rumors unbelievable enough?

“I am new here but I haven’t seen you a lot in school. Are you the same as I am?”

So he’s a transferee. Honestly speaking, I was discouraged. It’s clear that he would slowly stop approaching me as soon as he knew the rumors. You introduced yourself and asked for my name. I gave you a silent treatment causing you to face my direction. We stared at each other for minutes. You finally gave up and sat beside me as I turned my gaze back at the people playing in the park, sighing heavily.

“Would you like to hear my life?” You look at me, expecting something. I turned back at you, both eyebrows raised. You showed your smile, with those little cute dimples on each side to get away from the awkward atmosphere. Trust me when I tell you that was the brightest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life. Maybe you did show me the colors I didn’t know I needed in my life.

“Oh… I guess you don’t then? I mean why would you be interested right?” You laughed yourself off but as usual, expected some remarks from me. My eyes panicked as I shook my head quickly from side to side. My eyebrows creased as I bit my lip, hoping you understood what I meant.

“So you do want to hear it?” I shook my head up and down as an approval of your question. Unnoticeably, it was the first time I felt eager especially when it comes to humans.

“Isn’t it annoying though?” I got the hint you wanted to tease me considering your giggles but I was too caught up in assumptions that you wouldn’t continue your storytelling. Thus, I did the same thing, turning my head from side to side, trying to convince you that I desperately want to know what happens in the lives of some.

“Cute” you mumbled to yourself but I was able to hear the word that came out from you. You patted my head casually as you started to talk about your life. I grew slightly embarrassed, curling myself, holding my knees, and acted as if I didn’t hear anything.

You were transparently open in talking to the point that I finally knew what “precious” actually meant. Although it was for a moment I knew it would stop soon, you definitely saved me from all I felt.

There I knew how our lives were exact opposites. If I felt everything, the happiness, and sadness, contrasting feelings I couldn’t comprehend, you on the other hand felt nothing. As soon as your dearest brother got into an accident, you didn’t know what to do. If I had abusive and malicious parents, you had no one to be with. I couldn’t even imagine what would happen If I lived your life.

I knew I was bad for thinking of such a way but I took advantage of your life. It made me feel relieved that there were people who faced the worst monsters than I have inside me. It made me look at the positive side of mines.

Much especially when I didn’t expect it would be you. My first impression of you was this carefree pure guy who had no problems in living his life. Little did I know, you were waking up feeling nothing, smiling with no joy, cries without letting out the pain, and laughs despite the numbness and burden that weighs in your heart. I guess we can’t judge people by the way they appear. We never know how much tears they’ve shed every night.

You summarized and wrapped things up. You asked for my name one last time before leaving. But there I was, hung my head low and sniffles could be heard. You looked in confusion as I tried to cover my face. A surprise was evident in your reaction and it was obvious due to your stuttering. You tried to ask what happened but instead hugged me unconsciously.

That was the first time I’ve ever felt warmth. I was born a mistake so even my parents couldn’t give me this kind of comfort. I cried worse as I had thought of it. The idea of a stranger giving me a better meaning of how home felt like than a family does, who wouldn’t tear up after that?

I don’t want to be ahead of time. But hope filled my mind. Maybe I could find more people like him. Maybe someone out there could notice my emotions. Maybe someone could act as my light. Maybe someone does care about my wellbeing. Out of a huge percentage of people living on Earth, there should be one who could at least meet and save me right? I know I settled in all “maybes” but it was much better than having none.

2

  Recalling the series of events, I was a total problem. Yet you were always there for me no matter how heavy of a burden I am. You were the one who believed in me when I couldn’t, picked me up when I was drowning in a wave of traumas and worries, and lightened my deep void. You were my first and swore you’ll be my last, who broke my past and created my unknown beginning. I hated risks but whenever you are involved, I for sure know it is worth it no matter how many needles it may pain me. It had been years before noticing how much you mean to me I may be late, but would never get tired of this. I will listen and enjoy our memories until the end. You will, for eternal love, be my last song in my only playlist.

Although it’s true we never believed in love since the beginning. But all we do know is that we’d like to spend our whole lives together. It’s as if we were bound by the heavens to meet and help one another. With all that’s happening, I would like to assume that this is love people were talking about. Who knew it could be this powerful to change someone?

  [CHAN’S POV]

  And what happened to the “messy innocent girl who was stained by reality?” She became an unrecognizable teen, as pure as ever. In the past, I wasn’t able to feel the emotions most do but look at me now, smiling every time I see you do. Even though I’ve never felt heavy feelings, these light ones are taking a toll on me whenever you call my name.

We had arguments but never had any misunderstandings. This is all because no matter what I say, you are always by my side. I could tell you day by day how much you mean the world to me, my downfalls, and everything unnecessary but you’d still listen to it with no regrets.

Right now, we’re meeting up for a “little date” as you mentioned. I was going to decline because there had been many requirements in class but you seemed too interested that I didn’t want to break it to you.

I was wearing my usual hoodie sweater with baggy pants and ordered for both of us. After all, you would always choose chocolate whipped shakes over anything. You seemed to take too long so I decided to work on some demands given. I turned on my laptop and opened the application as I placed the headphones on my ear, silencing the noise in my surroundings.

Now all I can hear is my heartbeat pounding and swallowing as my throat started to dry. The loading symbol appeared on my screen and I hoped it would stay like that forever. I hoped it would crash and tried to find more excuses for me not to use it.

I was consistently looking at the time shown on the panel below the main screen. The blue circular sign still turns and turns as I see it from my peripheral vision. 3:31, 3:32, 3:33, the minutes kept moving and hands that are now shaking because I assumed this would be the worst nightmare that could happen. But no, cause “worst nightmare” is an understatement when we are referring to this. It would’ve been better as a nightmare because I could wake up from this traumatic moment. I was focused on my screen that I hadn’t noticed the calling in my front.

“Channie?... Chris?.... Christopher?... Mr.Bang Chan?.. Chan!”

  [Y/N’S POV]

  He finally noticed me as soon as I tapped on his shoulders. He flinched and looked at me in horror. It creeped me out but it took seconds before he could pull his eyes away from mine. He bit his lips and I noticed him covering his hands. The staff called out a number which I believe was from our table considering the way he closed his laptop.

“I’m getting that” You forced a little smile as you made way to the counter

I smiled at the thought of our “date” but seeing you sweating and nervously fidgeting your fingers to avoid them from shaking bothers me. Did something happen before you came? Why was he that nervous? Thoughts bombarded my mind, but you coming back with my favorite drink and snacks, looking all-smiley, tells me as if you noticed my discomfort so you tried cheering me up. You sat down in front of me and got rid of your problems. As usual, this guy notices even the littlest gestures I make.

“Did you wait too long?” I asked you with enthusiasm because our little date has now started. The idea non-stop makes my whole day

“No, I just arrived before you did.” You respond with a genuine smile despite the clear lie you just gave. You stroked my hair as you looked at me lovingly

“Oh, I just passed by that bakery we talked about a year ago…..” I started chatting about our fond memories that remain vivid in my head.

It took several hours of talking and enjoying our time together. We also watched that Philippine movie starring two exes who broke up and lived in one house, but being an emotional wreck, it took 30 mins of you trying to comfort me as I cry ugly. Of course, you didn’t miss an opportunity to laugh at me and even took a video. Teasing me and showing my picture as your wallpaper, made me playfully angry.

We also enjoyed visiting the same tunnel where we met. The nostalgia is present. The moon is shining and I can’t help but smile looking at you.

  [CHANS POV]

  You look beautiful under the moon if I must say. I wanted to show the magnificent view because it reminds me of you whenever I see it up above. You were my only light when my days in the past were too dark.

We continued strolling around, counting the streetlights that passed by and talked about a lot of things. Until you decided to speak up-

“About…. the thing that happened earlier?” You looked up to me, but your eyes soon started moving away from mines. You were held on with the anxiety of trying to speak up whenever it had come to my personal life. I don’t know whether it was the trauma you’ve stumbled upon when you asked about my father or it’s just due to your manners. Nonetheless, if it was indeed your trauma, I’ve felt guilty about it and wanted to reassure you I won’t hurt you ever again. “But if you don’t want to talk about it-“ I cut your sentence off.

“My father was a musician..” your eyes shined with glee in my response

“That’s cool!” You exclaimed but it soon faded into a frown after hearing me sigh. Tilting your head, you tried to calculate everything that’s wrong with it. I nervously fidgeted with my hands and knuckles, contemplating a decision that could change and even affect both of us.

“Everything’s wrong... He was into it, music took his mindset and life” I faced my head sideways and gulped without looking at your eye. The trauma, I’m finally telling my pent-up feelings after a lifetime keeping it to myself.

“He was so into composing music and started to forget about the reason he had started to do it. And by that-“ you cut off my sentence and started to nod a few times, pressing your lips together. You pointed your shaky finger at me and spoke softly.

“I think I know where this is going.” You looked at me in disbelief but all I could do is look at you with concern and guilt, asking for forgiveness. “Is this why you didn’t want to love again even after all these years?” Your eyes that shined stars a moment ago, turned into sun at night. It wasn’t raging darkness, but plain agony.

“Can you blame me? I know I love music, I’ve told you that on repeat for years. Is love what I need when that was the cause of everything?”

You didn’t take one glance at me and started walking faster. You were trying to leave me behind but I was quick to grab your hand.

“Please, let’s not act like this. It’s starting to get..” I was trying to think of a less harsh word because things get complicated day by day. And here I thought this date would be an exception. “Childish. Okay? I don’t get why you’re so out of place and it’s like-“

“So now I’m the one getting childish here?” You turned around and faced me, finally. Though it wasn’t any relieving as I expected. You were having tears stuck in your eyes, ready to fall at anytime yet you don’t want to cry in front of me. Are we going to keep this up? I was about to talk but no words came out of me. Until you decided to continue your sentence.

“You knew about this all the time, right? You knew how I was starting to fall for you and yet you continued our relationship without feeling love?” You bit your lips as your eyebrows creased. Trying to push me away, but all I could do was hold you tighter. “I know how trauma feels like. I’ve been there, we’ve been there. But you could’ve told me sooner at least so I’m not the only one looking like a whole fucking fool here, Christopher.” You tried to get away from my hold and yes, you did. Though as I tried to grab your hand once again, you took a step backward and placed your hands up in the air as a sign of surrender. “Call me sensitive but for God’s sake! How could you get me all wrapped up in your finger for the past years and call it something that isn’t attachment nor love? What was I to you then?” It took seconds for me to get the gist of what you’re trying to say and I did understand but I couldn’t answer that simple question.

Because now that I think of it, was I awful to hesitate who you were in my life? Was those years nothing for me then? I want to protect you until the end and I wanted to see you happy but I’m pretty sure I felt this for some of my friends as well. Did I just get into a relationship whilst thinking of my significant other as a friend? Is it called using someone? Taking advantage to make my life better? I know what’s right and what’s wrong. But I don’t know which is which. Getting into a relationship is a risky choice and I don’t want to hurt anybody in between. Because I know that’s what’s wrong. Using others for my need of affection and love is wrong as well. But is this exactly what I’m doing? I don’t know...As things grow, it just gets complicated to the point that I couldn’t even comprehend situations.

“I thought so” you continued, and those words crushed my heart. I didn’t notice the time we’ve been arguing, though technically it’s just you who was able to speak, that we’ve already reached your house. You opened the tiny gate in front of your house and I know what’s going to happen sooner later.

“Maybe, you need time to think about it alright? I don’t think I can keep up with a relationship like this if it’s too one-sided. But don’t worry I’ll wait. Even though what I want may not come,” you chuckled but the sigh was still evident. “I’ll wait for you.” You smiled, but it isn’t the one you’ve always shown me. I was the reason for your happiness but also the reason for your pain. How tragic must have been that sound.

You went your way to the door and closed it. I knew you were crying as I heard little sniffles but never looked my way. Closing the door, that was the last time I had ever seen you. With no goodbye kisses and hugs, you left feeling the ache you didn’t deserve.

3

[YOUR POV]

  It was supposed to be “taking a break”, but considering this, I should’ve accepted it as a break-up. You never took time texting me after the whole 4 months. I guess I was no one in your life. But even though I was still hurt, I regretted spatting out things as if it was your fault. You always get guilty over things and I know it was all just because you had a hard time reciprocating your feelings because of the lack of love you’ve felt. I should’ve understood that part but being the sensitive me, I was unmindful. I’ve also never seen you walk past the corridors nowadays, so it’s basically been also the same 4 months of actually not seeing you as well. You really bothered trying to get out of my life.

I groaned as I sat up in the bed. It was around 8:30 and I’m like 1 hour and 30 mins late? Not that I’m bothered by it since I’ve gotten used to it. It’s not like our teacher is there by the time I arrive.

  -SCHOOL-

  “Outside, now” was the first and last thing I’ve heard as I entered my classroom. And here I thought the teacher wasn’t present. Not only did I embarrass myself in front of my classmates, but I’d also have to stand holding a chair, outside the classroom for lower and higher-ups students to see. Awful, and my reputation is broken. Well, not that I had any significant reputation in the first place but come on, you know how hard it was to see students bickering while looking at you.

I heard the door click open and I hoped it was the teacher who finally would let me in. It turned out to be another classmate of mines which I thought was unnecessary. But as I looked back up and noticed his eyes, a sense of familiarity came unto me.

“Han?” My eyes widened at the sight in front of me. I’m not expecting people to be perfect but our class president was the last person I expected to be scolded by our teacher. “Weren’t you inside the classroom way before me?”

“I cursed.” The guy spoke shortly and lifted the chair just like the same punishment I’ve been doing. I blinked my eyes twice but understood nothing.

“Pardon?” I replied in a high tone as if I was questioning what he was trying to say. Cursed? Is he out of his mind, trying to curse in front of the teacher? Besides, he had always been this quiet kid, but girls still tend to simp over. The latter though is out of my knowledge.

“What did you say?” I leaned in as you jolted quite a bit. Reacting to the sudden flinch, I assumed it was bold of me to do so and it scared you. But looking straight at you, pink tints were found on the side of the cheeks. It was light and definitely cute.

“F-fuck” he faced me with eyebrows creased and hesitated in replying. It was so short and awkward whenever he’d say it or maybe it’s also due to his stuttering. The thought was so out of the place and even I, who is quite free doesn’t curse in front of the teacher for no reason so why would someone who tries to stay low, would curse? But the way you told me the “forbidden” word made me laugh out loud.

“You’re funny, Mr. class president” I replied after a silent 2 minutes and laughed while hitting him lightly. Little amounts of liquids were falling down my deep brown eyes as I tried to regain my breathing. He’s awkward and that’s what makes it funny. I like him.

I wiped off my tears and stared at you. My laughs slowly died down after seeing your confusing expression. I don’t know whether your eyes held a safe haven or a place I was indulged in and forgot about the point that everything was complicated in between. Whether staring at you was comfortable or confusing. All I know is that I was distracted by the genuine smile you gave. It was little but I knew it was a smile after seeing cute dimples on the side of your lips. Now that I think of it, I haven’t ever seen the president smile.

You noticed my pause and coughed, trying to clear out the tension. The usual demeanor was back. Was everything just an illusion then?

“Anyways, I don’t know about you but I’m gonna have to go. Don’t want stay here standing when time’s already up” you lazily said as you pressed your lips together, leaving me speechless all alone. Raising your hand, you waved back at me while walking away and didn’t even take time to look back.

That was weird. Or was I the only one weird? True, I’ve never seen him around that much but I’ve painted the guy as someone responsible considering the works he finished even after given such a small time. He was indeed open-minded but wasn’t out-spoken or friendly. Work is work and he has to make sure he aces his tests for his reputation to not tarnish even one bit, that’s all that matters to him. He was never used to smiling so he doesn’t do it as much, at least that’s what I’ve heard. I’m guessing it must be my imagination.

  /LUNCHTIME/

  Guess what? It’s already lunchtime and I haven’t learned a single bit of information from my teacher’s discussion. Shrugging all my homework, projects, quizzes, oral recitations, and performances that are all due this afternoon, I walked out of the classroom.

But before I did so, I found a familiar guy in my peripheral vision. Trying to confirm whether it was him, I turned and called his name out.

“Mr. president?”

The same awkward and serious guy turned around, raising his right brow. You were confused at first about who would call you with no respect, but hummed in surprise as a response.

“It’s Han for you... and for everyone” trying to continue the work you’ve been doing for our school camp which is totally several months later. What’s the rush?

“Drop the formalities! Besides, I like Mr. president way better.” I smiled and tilted my head then flipped my hair. I was a whole smug for thinking my naming sense was the best thing about me.

“Like, like?”

The same vibe always comes up whenever I’m talking to you and I don’t know why. How is it so hard to interact with smart ones? I feel like their language is different and I couldn’t even comprehend what this guy is trying to say.

“like?”

“You like mr. president. That’s what you said”

And that’s how it struck me. Looking back on everything, it seems pretty weird. (I like Mr. President way better) rings all throughout my head. I know he’s been surrounded by girls who have a crush on him but surely he doesn’t think of this as a low-key confession, right?

Please, I didn’t deserve any of this awkward tension. I did walk up to him first but blame my curiosity for wondering what he’s doing in his free time, does he always go to the library whenever, or what do the lifestyle elites like him actually have? Maybe, I did just want a friend but who knew it would be this complicated. Wrong choice.

“The names you provide for people are so dull” you faked a yawn to show how uninterested you are.

I laughed out and tried to hide the embarrassment I’ve felt inside. He meant the name of course! What was I thinking? He quickly got up and proceeded to leave the classroom as if he understood what I wanted to do. He catches up with things fast if I must say. But the feeling didn’t subside in me and I tried to cover up my face with my hands as soon as he left. Heaving a deep sigh, I reassured myself and followed him.

  -CAFETERIA-

  “This is all they’ve got?”

It’s been a second we’ve entered the school cafeteria and yet this elite beside me was already complaining. We sat down on the white benches and I was also relieved the cafeteria doesn’t have many students since our class ended earlier than the desired time.

“You’ll get used to it. Besides, what do you commonly eat for lunch? This is good.” I replied and waited for a response that never came back. I’m thinking it was a wall I’m talking to. You ate the soup and showed a face of disgust. Of course, I don’t give up.

“Do you have different cafeterias?” “Or do you eat in your respective rooms?” “Do you actually eat? cause you looked really busy with the requirements.” “Being a class president is that hard huh? I don’t think I’ve seen anyone as hard-working as you even if they have high titles.” “You know if I was the class-“

“Why do you ask so many questions? Geez” you swept your hair and sighed. You felt tired talking to someone as chatty as me but all I could do is playfully pout and raise both my eyebrows up. Shrugging, I respond.

“Why not?”

You glared at me but I wasn’t taken aback by it so you decided to reply, finally. “The real question is, why?” you tried to peacefully eat and finished it quickly so you could go to the library, I suppose. It was going smoothly until my small brain with low grammar or structure skills decided to pop up the least moment I wanted it to.

  “Because I’m interested in you.”

  Choking was all I could hear after I simply stated. Panicking, I gave you my water unknowingly and you drank it. I patted your back and stroked it gently.

“You okay?” I tried to calm you down but your face seemed to ask me whether you were okay even after everything was obvious.

“You mean you’d like to know about my lifestyle?” You analyzed my reaction as I tilted my head. I mean isn’t that clear? Your eyes seemed like you got the hang of me again and scoffed, rolling your eyes. Wow! Now, what’s up with this attitude?

“It’s common. Just some random New York steak.” My eyes widened and my ears couldn’t believe what they’re hearing. That’s common? Gosh, even my monthly allowance couldn’t afford to buy a whole steak, what more if it was specifically in New York? And the way he didn’t bother to flex about his lunchtime food and acts as if it’s unimportant.

“Enough about me, how about you?” I believe you were trying to ask for the sake of the conversation but it excites me anyway. I mean, an elite asking me about my life? It boosts my pride, internally laughing as I thought of the idea.

“What do you want to know about me?” Grinning, I eagerly waited for the question. How blessed I am to have an upper-class student to not just interact, but ask about me as well.

“What happened between you and Bang Chan?”

I’m taking it all back. I don’t want to hear any questions. I was wrong. By Bang Chan, I knew straight away he was referring to Chris. The mentioned ex became an elite, or so I heard. I don’t know how, why, or when but that’s the only reason possible for him to know there was a thing between us. But unlike me, Mr. President wants to make sure of everything and not just the rumors he had heard.

“No.” I simply stated and continued to eat.

“Why not?”

“I should be the one asking you why”

“Because I’m interested in you”

I paused and was slightly surprised by the sudden declaration. Okay, my way of telling him made me look crazy. I looked up to him and saw a pair of teasing eyes. This is who mr. president is? Now it was my time to roll my eyes and I knew at that moment I had no escape.

“Exes. We’re exes.” I expected a startled expression from you but your lips curled downwards as if you expected it. How was it hard to read this guy’s mind though he immediately catches up on everything I’m feeling?

Days passed by and as usual, I was the one annoying you. At that very time, we became close because I knew you were a comfortable place for me to be in. You don’t judge unlike what others do each time I open up my problems especially when it comes to my relationship with an elite and Christopher, out of all. For sure, you were the right choice of friend I never knew I needed to rely on.

4

[YOUR JOURNAL]

  Just a few days passed by and I hear lots of students whispering. What’s the occasion? I don’t even know myself yet I’ve brought a ring that matches mine. I’m naive but I always trust my instincts no matter what. As I try to recall the date and puts everything together in one piece from all the clues I’ve gotten.

A familiar man appeared in my sight. But he wasn’t mr. president. He was looking at me and I continued to look at those deep brown eyes I’ve longed to see after a long time. Was I prepared? No. Did I want to see him? I’m not sure so myself. But did I actually like that view? Indeed. My very first heartbreak or hiatus came back after months and to see he felt the same way I did. Did the moment I waited for all of my life would finally happen?

Each step you take, the more my anxiety rushes through me. I felt the shivers either because I was scared or it was the tears I’ve forced to stop from rolling down my cheeks. Or simply both, ignoring the fact that I was hurt yet I did want to see you after all. I wanted to walk away, but if I did then I’m making the same mistake twice. Therefore I stood still silent and only my heartbeat is the loudest out of all.

Closing my eyes, I expected strong grips around my wrist which marks it deep red because anger was the only thing present in the space between us. I didn’t take consideration of the things you’ve gone through but instead became selfish just because I’ve moved on from the past. I did tell you I would wait for you forever but all I gave you was the pressure of making you choose decisions at times you were having a hard time. Just because you made me learn the definition of love, doesn’t mean I could anticipate that you felt the same thing.

Quite on the contrary, I’ve felt warmth and comfort. The grip was truly strong, strong enough to hurt me emotionally and not physically unlike what I expected. The grip I’ve felt was hanging around me, a hug was given to me even when I didn’t deserve this.

“I’m sorry” that was what I’ve heard in the muffled and low volume of voice the man had spoken because he was on the verge of tears. I was supposed to be the one asking for an apology, yet this guy took it to heart once again. Typical Christopher.

“I missed you. I’ve realized I can’t do things without you. It’s been hard..” Your sentence cut the uncertainty I’ve felt. It came, he came. I cried my heart out after not breathing for a second. It would finally work out, after months of trying to ask for support from other people, you entered my life once again. And better? You loved me.

It was your graduation, and I’m glad to be there just like what we dreamed it to be. You may have left, but our romance never stopped.

Cliché right? Of course, that never happens in reality. What happens, is the point that we argue every day because of the long-distance relationship that serves as an obstacle in us. We don’t even know whose mistake it is but considering you, you’ve always been the one who let your pride down and ask for forgiveness. There are times it’s also been me because I realized that this guy doesn’t deserve more burdens in his life. Support is everything I could give.

“Everything working out?” I was astounded by the call Hanji decided to initiate first. He’s always been there for me when I had it rough. He cares for me though he doesn’t show it as much.

“I don’t know. I’ve rarely been receiving texts but he made sure to call me anytime soon. We’ve both been fighting against this. Thanks by the way” You sighed after I finished my sentence. I hoped my exhaustion wasn’t able to reach you but you knew straight away.

“What do you see in him? He is talented and ideal but do you think you both match up?“

It was good he called but hitting it directly at me and doubts our relationship? That’s what triggered and ticked me off. “I told you not to talk about this.” I firmly uttered.

“He doesn’t get the way you act, talk or even feel”

“I’m sorry? What do you mean by that?” It’s rare to see us quarrel because you didn’t want to reach that point and yet it’s you trying to get all complicated once again. Here I thought I got the hang of how you think. “He understands me more than anyone.”

“If he does then why didn’t he call by then?”

“He was busy. I repeated that to you more than thrice throughout the whole call. But if he wasn’t busy then he’d take a grasp of everything.”

“Was he? Because the last time I knew you had a rough day, crying all alone, he didn’t. The time I knew I had to cheer you up, he didn’t. The time I knew I needed to reassure you that no one’s ever going to leave you but stay by your side, even though you didn’t realize about it, he didn’t.”

3 seconds passed by before my voice was heard in the line.

“What does that have to do with all these?”

“I understand you but the guy you wanted to be with, doesn’t”

That was it, the final blow. Both were concerning, the whole sentence is. Starting from the conclusion you understood me up until the thought of me wanting a guy who doesn’t pick me up the way I assume couples needed. We had a relationship with Chris, but was it called a relationship with lots of things in between?

“I’m sorry. Slipped out. I was just irritated.” It was a first for you to apologize but my mind wandered to the part where you compared yourself to Christopher.

“What do you mean by you understanding me when he doesn’t?”

“I mean... If I did understand you, then I’m pretty sure a lot more boys out there would be a better match and would recognize your desire. They would be able to take care of you. You know I’m just.. worried.”

If it was the usual vibe, I would’ve laughed at that lame excuse. But thinking back, it’s hard for me to perceive the way you feel about me. I’ve heard rumors but ended up being nonchalant about it because mr. president having feelings? I chose to believe it wasn’t real especially when I’m already facing a hard time.

“good night.” You continued after the short silence. It was now you who was starting to get exhausted. You cut off the line quickly before I could even reply. Was the relationship between me and Chris wasn’t able to follow up fate? How innocent of me to think that true love comes so easily.

5

  Days turned to months and I lost count of the weeks Chris has been gone by my side. He had never failed to text compared in the past, but I still yearned for his affection.

He seemed excited on the phone today and unknowingly called me 5 times and now a 6-

“Christopher, aren’t you busy?” I giggled as I heard him laugh. It made my day and filled up the void in me that was created because of the thought he isn’t able to be with me on my graduation day.

“I have duties... as your boyfriend” I playfully rolled my eyes without expecting a turn of events.

It was my final day in school and to think that I have to spend it alone because I had no friends, awful. Chris made my day though, so I wanted to enjoy it to the fullest. But the feeling of not seeing Hanji anymore still lingered in my mind. It was harsh but I had to accept it. We didn’t talk that much but undoubtedly, he was a good friend in times I need him.

Whilst looking around the stalls in the halls, I found him. He was talking to a guy seemingly the same age as ours and he looked so happy. But as his eyes met mines, was it just me, or did it die down? Maybe he doesn’t want to see me after all? His eyes traveled back to the sushi he ordered but sighed as I ran up to him.

“Mr. president?” The happy and annoying tone of calling him wasn’t present anymore. It was gloomy, hesitating if I should bother his hours or time. “Did I do something?”  What happened to our closure? it flees away.

I saw you in the process of trying to smile a little and just hummed to let me know nothing’s wrong. But everything is. You ignored me and walked up to the classroom. I followed you, as I always do. I decided to speak up but you cut me off.

“I’m sorry if I did-“

  “Are you still interested in me?”

  You turned around and confronted my small figure. It hurts the way you try to smile in front of me but failed to do so. Usually, you always made me believe what you wanted me to. You’d say you’re fine, you’re happy, you’re not exhausted, but right now? I’m not buying it. I may not be able to read you that much, but you seemed too tired to the point that your magic of convincing me didn’t work.

“Interested..?”

“You said you were interested in how elite ones live. Now that you got the answer and your boyfriend is one, what am I there for?”

“You were there for me-“

  “when he couldn’t be there”

  You were being on and off, getting more complicated as time passes by. You don’t go straight to the point but instead, run circles until I have a hard time contemplating whether I’m the wrong one.

“What are you trying to imply?” I questioned

“I don’t need a quote that says don’t expect something in return”

“Return? After everything, we’ve been through? Our friendship? Was it all just nothing? How doesn’t that benefit you?”

“Because the more I give you your need, why do I have to receive pain instead?” Your voice was shaky and I can see you biting your lip, trying to suppress yourself from falling and breaking. “You wanted to know me because you were curious about my life. Now that you know of it, what do you want from me?”

“What do you mean what do I want? I want nothing from you. The bond that we’re tied in is enough for “

“Then who am I to you?”

“I told you, a friend.”

“My purpose in your life?”

“Lifting me up whenever I feel....down”

“So did you recognize how that sound like to you?”

Among both of us, I broke down first. Why am I being the one treated like the villain in this story taking advantage of people around me? Why am I the perceived the evil being in our friendship? Why does he want to make me feel guilty? I didn’t even know what the problem is yet, but I was already the bad one here. Call me clueless, but I couldn’t be blamed for something I don’t even know about. Quiet sobs filled in the silence and I could feel your sympathy filling the empty room.

“If ever..” in a low volume, you decided to speak “Why do you want to spend more time with me?” I looked up to you and wiped away all my tears if that’s possible.

A reason, that’s all I need to prove but no suggestions came up to my mind. Recollecting tragedies, was I the one who didn’t bother calling you when you didn’t do the same to me? Why didn’t I? You didn’t even pass my mind one single time in the past days. So why didn’t that happen? I appreciated him but when did things gradually just..stop?

Tears fell down yours as well but you didn’t want me to look at you in the eye. “You were supposed to say for more memories, you know? Like because I actually made you happy so you wanted me to appreciate our moments. Believe it or not, that’s what they say” you laughed to lift the air but I was still left dumbfounded after everything. How terrible of me, that thought echoes repeatedly.

Hours passed by and I wasn’t feeling it. The sun turned gloomy, the loud cheer of students turned to noise, the sky turned monochrome and the atmosphere turned dull. All I could do was ask Chris regarding it. All he could say is that he appreciated how Hanji backed off and didn’t want to complicate things more by telling me. Understanding none of it, what does he mean by didn’t want to complicate things more when our quarrel was? Wow, I really am this hopeless. Slow and unaware.

I was lost in thought that I late realized how I could hear vehicles in Chris as he was on call. Was he lying then? He mentioned he was staying in but why are there noises and people chattering? I was baffled hearing one of the familiar voices behind. One seemed to be the same as my classmate.

“Where are you? I thought you said you were in your home?”

  “I am home.”

  Clichè as it seemed, It all felt like a slow-motion in a fast-paced sequence of events. Firstly you were just talking to me but at the next second, you were personally doing it.

Holding your phone, I finally found the guy I’ve seen and lost on the same day in the past. But now? He’s here. Promising me that he won’t leave ever again. I knew I could trust these words no matter how repetitive they're going to be. Once you tell me it, I just know you’d be by my side no matter what until the end of the world.

You were looking the same as I remembered in the past and it’s played out like deja vu. You walking up to me and giving me a whole hug of comfort, as I cried in your arms.

“How about your-“

“I don’t want you to worry about it. I’ve chosen myself, with no additional pressure, to live with you.” You stroked my hair and patted my back.

“Live with me?”

“Don’t you want to?” I was delighted and surprised by the sudden decision. I wasn’t given enough time to think about it, not that I needed time anyway. I would always choose you over anything else.

It was the event and yes, I graduated with my boyfriend cheering me on and allowed me to soar high and fly, to start a new beginning.

6

[HAN POV]

  It was good seeing you happy. Even if it was Bang Chan, I’m sure he is the only man that can make you smile like that.

But indeed, I was hurt. I was a book you wanted to read but as soon as you got ahold of the main idea, everything starts to get boring. Usually, you would never fail to not make me annoyed each day because as you always say, I cross your mind every time. When you were indulged in your relationship, I was forgotten.

It was all my mistake and you don’t have to feel guilty about it. I may not have any expectations of you loving me, but I had hopes and that’s what made me receive pain. If I hadn’t hoped you would be with me, hoping you forgot about him, hoped you could see I am just here waiting, hoped you could realize I can treat you better, then both of us wouldn’t get hurt. It’s my fault and I’m held accountable to live in regrets.

But even for a split second, I am happy that I am capable of distracting your worries and making your day better. I wasn’t thinking well in the argument a while ago but I did get the benefit. Seeing you happy, makes me happy. So letting you go is the best choice for both of us to receive joy. Scratch that, I don’t have the right to tell you I would let you go.

  Because I never stood a chance did I?

7

[YOUR JOURNAL]

  After graduating, I moved in with Christopher. He let me listen to some of the tracks he had created to stop me from bothering him all day.

The music he had composed was nothing personal and was based on people from different perspectives. I had never felt the same experience as well but something about the way he writes and produces brought me to tears. The pain and emptiness inside were well shown in the midst of harmonies. He was also a genius writer with well-structured sentences and livens up feelings in the words to make the listener feel as if he or she was the one narrating it. His father is a musician, but to think he would be able to express that much in songs just shows how deeply connected he is with music. He wasn’t motivated because he tries to stop himself from being like his father but it was a pity for him to stop something he is incredibly good at.

“You’re really something Christopher! Do you know that?” I hugged him from behind and heard his little laughs. “I think I’ve fallen for you all over again. But honestly, I knew you’d write and produce this good” I wore on a smug look as he asked while giggling because of the face I’m giving.

“How?”

“How about calling it an intuition from an expert music lover?” You playfully rolled your eyes in my response because you expected something more detailed. You urged me to explain it to you so you’d knew my opinion about the music and so I did.

“Your words are beautiful that it makes me believe anything you’ll say, Christopher” I smiled and kissed your cheek. I rested my head near your neck as we were sat on the bed, facing each other.

It was true. You made me feel different feelings and opened up a new perspective to move on from my past. You influenced me a variety of changing thoughts. I don’t like the idea of losing myself to someone because it forgets the real me. I don’t like the concept of being crazy in love with people because it doesn’t feel sweet somehow whenever the risk of it being one-sided and unable to move on is present. Not realizing that whenever the talk comes about you, it feels heavenly. I don’t know who I would be if I wasn’t yours but it all feels enchanting. Although you made me insecure, at the same time you made me laugh throughout the day. You were a gold rush. Perfect and gentle, to think that someone like me got you is like winning once in my entire life. Luck is rare but fate was there. By fate, it turned out you were destined to meet me and get me out of the hell hole, no one tried to do. By fate, it means I will love you and will forever do. By fate, we’ll stand strong and fight the cracks alongside our journey.

8

[CHRIS POV]

  You wouldn’t take a no for an answer when I was asked to create more songs. A single shed of tear from listening to my music encouraged you to push more song requests unto me. Make-me-a-song was all I could remember hearing from you.

I remember you publishing one of my songs and I was accepted by it. You were jumping up and down as I was worried about its outcome. I was starting to get known, that was also the beginning of how the unforgivable musician started to forget about the important ones in his life. It was as if the result would be dragging my only light into my darkness. I don’t want to be a musician and yet, here I am composing more songs even if I knew what was coming soon.

I’ve started with light romance that I think you’ll enjoy but seeing you look so happy with just a simple work of mine, gave me that motivation I least wanted to have. And like a recorded cd, everything was played the exact same way in different men. I hated it but it was truly like father, like son.

I continued to write songs with deeper ones but as I got the recognition all the more, I produced as if I was possessed. I was indulged in the way words can be conveyed differently and ideas, stories, and theories were constantly overflowing my mind. I was wrapped up in music and I hated myself for it. Even though I despised the process, I couldn’t help but continuously write. All of my pent-up feelings in the past years were expressed in my songs, making me create heavy tracks and don’t run out of stories to tell. The man I’ve been hiding and was traumatized from came back and it’s as if he mocks me that we are on the same page after all. I felt myself sinking and sinking despite you telling me that I am not like my father because I made you feel the definition of love. I was trapped in a room with no escape that relates whenever I had started making music, I couldn’t get out of it. I wasn’t forced but this drive is what makes me continue because I feel like I’m creating a new genre that makes people deeply appreciate and maybe understand what I’ve been going through.

4 years came by but it felt like days in my studio.

“Chris, are you sure you’re fine? Get enough rest okay?” the young girl called me but I was busy finalizing the song.

“Yes, thank you,” I replied shortly after your question. I wasn’t paying much attention so I didn’t know the accurate response for it.

“Anyways, what’s that ab-“

“I’m working on music that’s going to be showcased and submitted to the famous JYP company later. It is really important so I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me by asking so many questions. Come by later, we’ll talk about it then.” I looked at my watch on my right arm and noticed how I still got a few hours left before attending the ceremony. The albums will be released soon after but I have to submit another title track.

I was busy with all the scheduled dates and songs that I hadn’t realized

  she wasn’t smiling anymore.

  “Mr. Bang Chan?” hours came by and truly the CEO came. We have a friendly bond and he gives me advice so it’s casual for him to call on me. I hurried up to the door and went to the car.

“Why didn’t you invite her to the big event?” The CEO of the company asked me to start up a conversation. He crossed his hands and tapped his fingers as if he thought of something so deep and significant because he was getting impatient.

“It’s a big hassle. She isn’t good and comfortable in interacting with people she doesn’t know” I simply stated and smiled for respect.

“I don’t interfere or meddle in the personal affairs or lives of others but I hope you aren’t neglecting her because of this, are you?”

“She will understand” I looked up to the car window and stared at the illuminating lights from buildings. I know you took a lot of time waiting for me, but please don’t give up and let me finish this song about you. By then, our Disney-like dreams would finally come true and I swear I’ll make you even happier.

  I held a box of ring in my pocket. I’ll make you happy, just hang a bit in there okay?

9

[YOUR POV]

  The CEO told me about the new album he’s been working on. It was about his first love. It would be no other than me, right?

I went up to his room and read the paper scattered alongside his desk. There were lots but I decided to read the one that I assumed was already done. It was near the porch and I understood how he wanted to compose in front of the moon.

  The moon shone brightly that night

 but I realized that wasn’t my source of light

You look lovely

as the smiles you beamed lasted an eternity

I was persuaded and lost in thought

unknowingly, my heart was caught

Because even under the moon, you’ve shone the brightest

and cleared my problems at most

Even under where light lies,

 I was indulged deep in your eyes

Even when it illuminates through the void,

a different view is what I’ve enjoyed

Because even if their minds were fixated on the scene,

looking at you felt more serene

  I stopped reading the paper and placed it back on the desk.

  “That can’t be me..” I thought.

  Starting from the mentioned smiles, how could that be me? You stated you enjoyed looking at me, but I felt like I was invisible whenever you compose songs. Did you make songs while thinking of me? I don’t think so. You should’ve known that you were dragging me along with your darkest nights. I wasn’t even your light anymore, it died down. I was overshadowed by your passion or the one you’re talking about in this script. Can I still make you happy? No. Am I still happy? No. The whole lyrics proves how you didn’t even take a single glance at me right now. Because if you did care, you would've known I changed because you did. I changed because the person I was relying upon, didn’t find motivation in me. We started together but it lost while it progresses just like how you started music because of me but lost my figure in your sight along the way. It was reality, I was being forgotten. When I was alone crying, where were you? I know you don’t understand me quite well but I was the whole climate. I changed for seasons unlike in the past where it was mild swings. Because you know what hurts the most? Not the fact that I waited and kept waiting as I am already used to that and no matter how many years it may take, I’ll always wait for you. But it’s all because everything went back. You picked me up from the trauma and showed how love is but it’s as if my past resurfaced from the waters and told me how tragedies would always stay the same. That I would always end up this way no matter who I’m faced to. I felt guilty for slightly regretting that I praised your songs. Indeed you were meant to be connected with music and it’s your passion. I’m happy that I was able to show it to you but wouldn’t these happen if I didn’t start it all? I was wrong. I thought it made you happy but no. None of these made us happy. Your pieces of music weren’t to blame, I shouldn’t be blamed and neither were you. Where did everything go wrong? I don’t know, it just started to fall off. These lyrics were deeply engraved in my mind. You seemed so in love when I wasn’t able to show you what love is. If it was a person, she must’ve been so kind and understanding. She must’ve been someone who understood your secrets and feelings. And me? I couldn’t still get to you. I’m confused about what’s best for you or what you wanted all along. I don’t recognize the woman you’re writing about. Either it was the past me or someone new. Chris,

  who is it that you’re in love with?

  Cold air rushed through my skin as I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of calm air. It wasn’t possible but it was enough to make me feel calm. I still appreciated our moments but I feel like I can’t wait anymore, Chris. It’s not because I’m tired but because I feel like you’ll be better without me. I hate the idea of me regretting I showed you your passion. I’ll be nothing but a whole burden. You’ll meet someone better who recognizes your life and by then she’ll be a brave one who can communicate with you. You’ll find someone new, or you already did. If anything, happiness is all I need in the end, at least at the ends of the world. It did happen. I was happy because the next thing I’ll do will be the bravest thing I had ever done after all my cowardly decisions in life, and it’s all because of you.

I stood up at the top of the porch and imagined a vivid scenery. It was you kneeling down to someone new. She did accept it and you were celebrating. Tears ran down my cheeks but was I smiling? Yes, it was indeed happiness seeing you take a break from the pressure and realize you needed to receive joy. I wasn’t able to give it to you but to think someone else would, contrasted the happiness and pain. “It’s time to let go” I opened my eyes slowly as I thought and saw the moonlight. I snapped out of my thoughts and cleared out my head. Because no matter what happened in between us, you crossed my mind in a second. And that’s when I knew, I still loved you despite the bittersweet rain.

10

[CHRIS POV]

  I heard sirens in front of the place that doesn’t feel like home anymore. Why? I heard how young and innocent the girl was and it was a pity to see her leave. It was a shock for me to the point that I hadn’t shed a single tear. Empty, hollow. It was all I could feel at the moment. Was she gone? Did she conclude to leave her out of my life?

Paper. That’s all I’ve seen on the desk. It’s prohibited to enter but I couldn’t believe what I’m seeing. The paper was crumpled and I believed you took the time to read this. Was my perspective wrong about you? Wasn’t this about you? I read the paper without further thinking and realized how I painted her as an angel. She is human, she was a human. Yet I’ve acted as if she was happy all the time, trying to save me from being a mess. Did I take a look back at her? No, instead I assumed too quickly. But what could that change? I was late and you’ve already given up. I was this close to preventing this but because I was so into writing a song made for you, I had forgotten the purpose to the point that it doesn’t seem like you anymore. Can I turn back time? If only I could. I needed to feel your warmth, I needed to see you one last time. I need you.

“Excuse me, do you know the victim?” A man from the authorities asked.

“Yes.”

Mixed emotions were vivid. I felt guilty but hoped you were happy in your last breath. The context of mines was complicated and I didn’t even notice it before. I abandoned to treat, as what I comprehend. Miscommunication rode the tides but it was undoubtedly true when I started to ignore people that surround me. I want to focus on you without realizing I left you. Is that even possible? It is now that I’ve seen it. Just like CDs, everything was played out in deja vu. People were different but things were just the same. It was how I became just like the person I despised all my life. But I did it for a reason, it’s not like I forgot about you. I just didn’t think how your feelings are right now but pursuing this song, is how I still remembered every bit of you. Would the ring I held on be given if I arrived earlier? No, I should’ve realized. I should’ve loved and made you feel how important you were to me in the days back then. In times you felt a hole in your chest, I should’ve been there to feel it up with love. I should’ve been there when you felt insecure. I should’ve been there when you felt all alone. But no matter how much I hurt myself, tear myself apart, it all ends with “I should’ve.” I’m sorry I couldn’t show you what I wanted to. I’m sorry I couldn’t love you until the very end.

I continued explaining to the man, 

  “She was my fiancée”

would you love me if I let go?

[eastertag]

Pretty in pink

@fallenfurther gift for @willow-salix

—

Her mobile, which had fallen into the crack in the sofa, buzzed violently. Wriggling to the side, Selene retrieved it and tapped open the new message.

Gordon: Please say you know who did it?

Gordon: I don’t want to get the blame.

Selene: Did what?

Gordon: Thunderbird One is pink.

Selene couldn’t believe the words before her, but her instincts told her Gordon wasn’t lying. Pushing John’s arms up abruptly, she went from lying on him to standing in seconds. Her man gave her a bemused look but didn’t move.

“Where’s the fire?”

“Thunderbird One is pink.”

“What? That’s a joke. Gordon’s pranking you.”

Selene thrust the phone under John’s nose and watched his eyebrow raise. He stood slowly, understanding all the possible implications of such a statement, and together they headed to the lift. Taking it down to Thunderbird One’s hanger, they joined Gordon in gapping up at the rocket plane. There before them was indeed a pink Thunderbird One. At least the details were pink. From the usually blue engine compartment with its white one and the blue detailing on the bottom fins were now the colour of FAB 1. Even the nosecone was a darker shade of pink. A grin crossed Gordon’s face as he started to chuckle.

“I look forward to your funeral,” John spoke entirely deadpan.

“I didn’t do it.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because whoever did is a freaking genius!” Gordon exclaimed. “This is the prank of the year and whoever did it deserves a medal of bravery.”

“More like a medal of stupidity,” countered John, “if we get a rescue and Scott has to fly with One like this, all hell will break loose.”

“Should we tell him?” Selene asked, wondering if she should message her best friend or not.

“Be my guest,” Gordon responded cheerfully, phone in hand and snapping evidence of the crime. John wandered up to the Thunderbird, a frown of thought on his face. Selene followed, watching her man’s every move as he scrutinised the pink stripes. He opened his mouth to speak.

“What on earth? Who did that? What the hell is going on?”

Scott’s voice went from surprise to anger as he stormed up behind them. His fists were clenched and shaking. They all cared deeply for their individual craft and this was a complete violation of his. Had someone painted Thunderbird Four a new colour, Gordon would be just as furious.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Not as bad as it looks!?” Scott spat at John. “Thunderbird One is PINK! How would you like it if I painted Thunderbird Five pink?”

“I would like to see you try that, and it’s not like anyone sees Thunderbird Five that often.”

A growl came from the eldest Tracy, though John didn’t flinch. He knew even, as Scott was going red with fury, his brother was not a threat, so he continued to be the voice of reason.

“It appears to be a simple wrap, probably designed to be temporary.”

“I jolly well hope so.”

Selene just observed as Scott stormed off to the side of the hanger towards the adjustable platform. He jumped up into the driving seat and moved it up to his Thunderbird. Climbing on, he raised it so he could examine the damage. His hand reached out and stroked the darker pink hexagons that surrounded her white one, the hurt in his eyes clear to all. John shook his head, while Gordon sniggered to her left. No doubt the man was snapping more photos. Scott rose higher and let himself into the belly of his ship.

“On no! They are SO dead.”

The anguished voice from inside the Thunderbird had Gordon running past to call the platform down. Selene and John were right on his heels, climbing up and being raised above the ground. She was thankful the closest one had been the lift with the guard rail, as she held on tight. Carefully stepping into Thunderbird One the reason for the cursing became clear. Everything that had been blue was now pink. Even Scott’s seat, which he had climbed up to like a monkey, had been sprayed pale pink with deep pink cushions. Selene bit her lip to fight the grin, though Gordon just collapsed in peels of laughter.

“Incredible,” John gawked from her side. “I’m impressed by the effort they’ve gone to, though this definitely screams Brains’ handiwork. I suggest finding him to ascertain the best way to remove it all.”

Selene herself was struggling to take in the dramatic colour change. It was like being in a completely different vehicle. It was almost like Penelope had come in and redecorated to her tastes and claimed it as her own. The blue figure of Scott above them looked very much out of place in his own Thunderbird. The man jumped down before her, a frown creasing his forehead. He slipped a hand under Gordon’s elbow, lifting the crying man to his feet.

“Good idea, John. The sooner this is sorted the better.”

They watched the commander drag Gordon out, who was trying to dry his eyes and snap a few more photos at the same time.

“If you could keep those photos off social media, I’d be very grateful.”

“Hey!” Gordon yelped as he was dropped onto the platform bed. “The world has a every right to see these. They are golden!”

“I promise they won’t be released today, however Gordon has got a point. If released at the correct time, they could be invaluable.”

Selene looped her arm through John’s as they followed after the grumbling Scott, carefully stepping onto the platform. She did snap a quick photo for herself, just in case, knowing that John would have Gordon’s photos saved somewhere safe soon enough, which she could just ask to see. The platform lowered smoothly, and they clambered down the ladder. Scott decided the ladder was too slow and threw himself athletically over the rail to the floor. He started running only to grind to a halt when Sally rounded the corner with a pink baldric in hand.

“There you are Scott,” the wise woman smiled, “I’ve been looking for you all over. I need you ready to launch in the next half hour otherwise we’ll be late.”

Selene joined the men around her in shock. Not one of them had considered Sally would be culprit. The woman was a plotter and mischievous, but this took the biscuit.

“You did THAT?” Gordon gawked; arm thrown high in the direction of the Thunderbird.

“With Brains’ help, yes.”

“I’m not launching Thunderbird One until it’s all removed.”

Scott’s eyebrows knitted together as he crossed his arms. Sally didn’t falter, passing a data pad to Scott as she passed.

“Yes, you will. I just have to pack this, then we can launch.”

Gordon stared after his Grandma his wide brown eyes full of a newfound respect for the matriarch. John peered over Scott’s shoulder, reading whatever was meant to convince Scott the Thunderbird One needed to be pink. The man’s tense body slumped with a sigh.

“Don’t you dare call me out for a rescue or I’ll disable the bagel machine on Five AND ensure none make it safely to the island for the next month.”

John raised an eyebrow, and his emerald eyes glinted as a sly smile crossed his face.

“You know I can’t promise that.”

“I’m taking the second seat. I cannot miss this for the world.”

Gordon gleefully ran towards the stairs up to the changing rooms and docking area. The colour slowly drained from Scott’s face as he realised that having Gordon there would be worse than being called out on a rescue. Selene could almost here the jokes and puns Gordon would rain over Scott.

“No way. You are not coming.”

Scott shouted after the aquanaut, who had just lept up the first few steps. Gordon threw himself onto the handrail, cupped his hand to his mouth and bellowed.

“Grandma! Can I come?”

“It’s up to Scott who can come along, but I believe you are on standby for rescues.”

“John’s here. He can take my place.” Gordon latched the eldest Tracy and brought out the puppy eyes, “Please, Scott. Let me come along.”

“No.” The commander was back, standing straight and certain, “The only person who I will allow to come is Selene.”

“Sure, I’m in.”

Selene gave Scott an appreciative smile. She intended to make the most of this opportunity, as Thunderbird One would be reverted back to her original colours the moment she returned. A dimpled grin of gratitude was sent back.

“I need to go suit up. I’ll see you inside.”

The man jogged off towards the elevator, while John held the tablet out before her. Taking it, she scrolled through an email exchange that had occurred over the past few days. It was the first email that tugged her heartstrings and explained Scott’s quick change of tune.

Dear Make-a-wish,

My name in Leanne Darcy Brown. I am ten years old, and I have incurable medulloblastoma. I am having chemotherapy to help prolong my life so I can do as many things as I can, but I don’t have much time left. I have always loved planes and wanted to be a pilot. I have been to many air shows and love sitting in the cockpits of the planes they have on display.

My wish is to fly in Thunderbird One. It is my favourite of the Thunderbirds as it is the fastest, and it would be awesome to go at top speed in it. Although, if I was the pilot of Thunderbird One it would be pink and not blue, as pink is a much better colour. I know this might not be possible as Thunderbird One needs to be ready to help people, so my other wish is to go up in a stunt plane and do loop-the-loop, and other cool tricks.

Thank you,

Leanne

Selene blinked as John pulled her into his chest, resting his chin on her head. She rested her cheek against his shoulder and grounded herself, letting the world settle to the sound of John’s heartbeat.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

John’s voice was soft as his brushed against her ear. Twisting, Selene gazed up into his dazzling eyes and smiled. They both knew she would be going; she always went when she was need, and Scott would need her. The boys did charity events whenever they could, doing their best to spread hope and raise money to help those less fortunate. They experienced losses on rescues, each having people that held on longer than others, but at least they had tried to save them. Sometimes meeting the people they could do nothing for, despite all their resources, could be tough. Sally climbed down from the lift and set it moving to its original position, before heading towards them.

“Shall we get going?”

John pressed his lips to her forehead, and she stole a quick kiss, before breaking apart. Selene looped arms with the matriarch, and they headed towards the changing rooms. The spare seats for One were already in position for them, so they climbed in and allowed the mechanism to load them into the ship. Moments after they clicked into place, Scott’s chair extended out to collect him.

“Everyone ready?”

Scott glanced over his shoulder as Thunderbird One ascended to her launch station in silence.

“We’re A-okay back here. You just worry about getting to those coordinates on time.”

Sally chimed from beside her, clearly happy to be flying. There was a speed demon in her. The woman was buzzing, arms shaking slightly.

“It’s turned out perfectly, hasn’t it?”

“It definitely meets her pink dream.”

“Brains’ has done a fantastic job on such short notice. I was behind on the inbox, which I always regret as it means I miss emails such as these. When I saw it, I knew just had to do something. Brains was with me at the time. It was his suggestion that we make Thunderbird One pink for the day. He told me to just arrange it all timing wise and leave Thunderbird One to him. That man is a genus.

“You could have given me a warning, Grandma.”

Sally just waved away her grandson’s comments like an annoying fly, making Selene laugh.

“So why is today so important?”

“Oh, the foundation managed to secure Leanne on a stunt plane flight, so they’ll be at an airfield making all the clearances needed simple. The airfield was happy to accommodate us despite the short notice. Leanne is also taking a turn for the worst, her mobility is becoming poor to the point that she’s struggling to walk, and she’s on a fair amount of medication to keep her comfortable. It’s starting to become a now or never situation. The poor dear. Hopefully this will give her a day to remember.”

Selene reached out and held Sally’s hand as she wiped a tear from her eye. The doctor part of her must understand what’s going on with the child. Rubbing circles on the woman’s skin, there was a lot to marvel. The woman’s determination and care, efficiency and resolve. She had brought a girl’s dream into reality, and it was fantastic. Even if Selene didn’t appreciate pink as much as Lady Penelope, she could appreciate how Brains had used two shades to keep all the small details of the ship, including the logos and warnings located about them. The Thunderbird slowed and Scott landed effortlessly. They all disembarked onto the tarmac, where two suited ladies awaited with their wide eyes on the ship. Their name badges read Kaia and Dakota.

“Welcome and thank you for your response and generosity. May I be the first to say Thunderbird One looks incredible.”

“I’m sorry it was such a late response. This is Scott and Selene.”

There were handshakes all round before they were led into the nearby hanger and escorted into one of the offices. Selene quickly spotted Leanne, dressed in an International Rescue blue flight suit, chatting away to a woman in a similar, but white, flight suit. There was a spread of food and drink beside them, and there were three other adults standing to the side of the room. The couple with teary eyes and smiling warmly at the child were Leanne’s parents, and the other was a male nurse. Selene nabbed a sandwich from the platter and munched away as she stood beside Scott. Everyone stayed silent, letting the room be filled with the excited ramblings of Leanne, who still hadn’t noticed the newcomers. Stealing a ham sandwich earned a raised eyebrow from Sally, and a jealous side glance from Scott. Apparently, there was an etiquette she had forgotten. Finally, the nurse cleared his throat and Kaia introduced them.

“Leanne, this is Sally Tracy of International Rescue and her grandchildren, Scott and Selene.”

Selene held in a chuckle as the child’s jaw dropped and her eyes zeroed in on Scott. His uniform and tall certain demeanour clearly stating who he was. Her chestnut eyes sparkled with excitement as her hands flew to her cheeks.

“Hello Leanne.” Scott introduced himself, stepping forward and kneeling before her so he was at her level. His presence was calming, and he was giving her his best dimpled smile. “I hope you’ve had a fantastic time in the stunt plane. I used to enjoy performing similar manoeuvres when I flew in the Air Force.”

All Leanne could do was nod, completely star struck.

“Well, I can’t promise you any stunts, but I can show you around Thunderbird One before taking you and one of your parents up for a quick circle of the planet.”

“Y-Yes please!” She squeaked.

“Before we head out, I have this for you.” Sally stepped up behind Scott and held out the bright pink baldric, “so you can be one of us.”

The delight almost burst out of Leanne to the point she that she was shaking. Sally helped slip the loop over her head and secure the baldric in place. The child ran her fingers over the iR logo. With the blue of the flight suit, she really didn’t look amiss next to Scott. Her father stepped up and helped Leanne to stand, before looping his arm through her elbow. It was the moment the reality of the situation first hit Selene. With her father supporting her, she could walk but it was clear she was struggling to balance. Scott moved to be the other side of her and engaged them in conversation, though Selene knew he was primed to help if needed. They all followed out to the tarmac. There were many exclamations of wonder at the sight of Thunderbird One. A few tears were shed, and many photos taken. It was a pleasure to see Leanne’s face lit up and full of life as she posed next to Scott. Everyone was allowed inside for a view before Leanne and her father were strapped in for their flight. Selene put her arm around the mother as the air around them was whipped up by Thunderbird One’s thrusters.

“Thank you,” she sobbed, “You can’t imagine how much this means to us, and to Leanne. She fought so hard. Then to find out it had come back. All her dreams shattered, but this. This was just perfect.”

Rubbing gentle circles into the woman’s back, Selene guided her back inside to wait for their return. Selene gave her ear to the woman, letting her spill and release her feelings, knowing that the simple act of talking can help lift some of the weight. Her own heart ached for the family and their situation. Medical treatments had come so far, but there were still times when that progress had yet to come far enough for everyone. People were still being lost. Slowly the mood lightened, and the conversation moved on to lighter topics. The food was offered to them and they happily snacked as the spoke. They put aside a plate and bottle of pop for Scott. Sally’s wrist pinged to indicate the imminent return of the Thunderbird. Again, they all left to go to the tarmac, although this time the nurse had a hoverchair in tow. The grins on both Leanne and her father were priceless as they headed over laughing. Leanne was helped into the chair after a hug with each of them. Scott slipped his arm around Selene’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze, which she returned. They waved goodbye before climbing back into Thunderbird One. They launched immediately, allowing Leanne to watch the machine from below.

“Do you mind dropping me off in Kanas? I’ve planned a weekend away with some friends, and this saves me flying back out tomorrow.”

“Sure thing, Grandma. You got any requests Selene?”

“Just home for me.”

Thunderbird One landed beside the house and they waved goodbye to Sally. Scott sat in the vacated seat as he scoffed the sandwiches they’d saved gratefully. Selene could see the emotional weight that sat on the man’s shoulders. She leant over and rested against him. He would talk when ready. As the man glugged down the cola, the comm bleeped and John floated before them.

“Scott. There is a couple of climbers stuck on a mountain and Thunderbird Two is currently deployed.”

Scott sighed. The world knew when to pick its moments.

“You okay with a quick detour, Selene?”

“I’ll be here if you need me.”

Scott gave her a smile before climbing up into his seat.

“Send us the coordinates. Let’s just hope they don’t mind pink.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Ad Libitum I

Warnings: nonconsensual sex (series, to be warned later on)

This is dark!Loki and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are face with the opportunity of a lifetime, however you might have told a rather big lie to get there.

Note: I promise my other series are still going. I have half chapters I’m chipping away at every day! For now I’ll post the intro to my first Victorian AU.

Thank you. Love you guys!

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‘For the consideration of one, Mister Everet Ede.

After a close and contented reading of your recent piece ‘The Oyster’s Wealth’ in Cornhill Magazine, I write you to present an offer upon your skills.

Your work does show potential and I believe, as an editor and an author myself, it would benefit both parties should I aid you in refining such talent. While your writing does prove adequate and at times, provoking, there is much a young writer might learn from one as esteemed and experienced as myself.

Under the marquee of my own publication, The Asp’s Tongue, and my name, I would extend to you an offer of residence and should it prove productive, a place upon my list of regular authors. 

It was only two years ago that my journal opted to discontinue our bursary for writers but it is in my own purview, aside from those of my investors, that young minds require honing and it is upon my own coffers that I do make this offer of sponsorship for your development as an author. 

Should you choose to accept, I would expect your arrival upon the first Sunday of June at my estate of Emerald Hills. You will come with all that is required for your education; nibs, ink, paper, et cetera, as well as any personal possessions required for daily existence. Your board will be allotted by manor throughout your residency. Aside from that, you would require only your wit and basic literary competency.

I expect confirmation of your acceptance by the last day of April so that I may have the manor prepared for your arrival. Tardiness in all matters will not be tolerated.

I anticipate a valuable and vibrant professional accord,

Lord Loki Laufeyson, Duke of Wynselm

Founder and Operator of Laufey’s Publishing’

You read the letter once more. The folds of the paper were deep and fragile, the corners curling from your repeated reviews. In the months since its delivery, you had memorised ever curlicue of its script. It was better than any letter of acceptance you’d ever received. The only flaw was the pseudonym across the top. One day, you hoped, it would be your true name that greeted you.

The coach rocked and you caught yourself against the side, jostled atop the hard wooden seat. You shifted in your stiff skirts and peeked out the window. There was still doubt. Still anxiety. You’d accepted the offer without a thought and without much explanation. 

What would the great lord publisher think of you? A woman masquerading as a writer? Well, you hoped that he might overcome the shock and uphold his integrity. It was your work he had read. It was your words which had driven him to write. So why should your sex change the merit of your skill?

There was a sinking feeling in your stomach. It was a slim hope you had, truly. You expected him to laugh you back to your measly London apartment like all the other editors you had ever dared face beyond the stain of your inkwell. Had this all been for not? Another prospect dissolved by that feminine curse?

Besides, even if you were a man, the Duke was infamously misanthropic. It was reported in the papers that he hadn’t left Emerald Hills in several years. That he had grown cynical of society, not so much as submitting a sentence to his very own periodicals. So it was with great surprise that you’d received his letter and with greater hesitation. His reputation was not one of a fond patron but rather a unyielding despot. 

Yet it was an opportunity you did not expect to ever occur again, so you leapt, without thinking, and now your fear bubbled in your chest. To have come all this way and to be told what you’d always been told. To be denied again. In the flesh, you could not be Everet Ede, you could not hide behind your pen. Perhaps his own penchant for artifice might soften his rigid spine.

The manor stood on the highest hill in Wynselm. The gates were locked and a solemn doorman appeared from a small shed to open them. You pulled the curtain shut, afraid you would be found out before even breaking the threshold. The coach rumbled up the winding and steep path and stopped just before the broad stone steps.

You peeked out as the driver stepped down from his perch. You waited a moment, watching the front doors of the manor. It seemed as if the entire place was dead. Abandoned, even. The driver opened your door and offered his hand to help you down. Though his service was the cheapest you could acquire, his manners suggested otherwise.

He unloaded your trunk as you clutched your valise. You thanked him as he set the heavy luggage beside your dark skirts and you offered him a coin from your purse. He accepted with a toothy smile.

“Should I wait and help you carry it in?” He asked.

You considered the offer. It might be best if he tarried in case you were swiftly dismissed. What would you do if you were stranded here? And yet, you were determined not to be turned away. Your best option might be to force your presence upon this man.

“No,” You answered staunchly and pushed your shoulders back. “You’ve been a great help, sir. You should hurry back to the city.”

“Miss,” He removed his hat. “Good day to you.”

“And you,” You nodded and watched him climb back up onto his seat.

He snapped the horse into action and their hooves clopped around and down the path until you could no longer see them. You gripped your valise even tighter and turned to the manor. The doors suddenly shifted and a man in a plain grey suit appeared. He pushed both open and stood aside as he waited silently. 

You heard footsteps from within, the tap of leather sols upon the wood. A lithe figure emerged from the shadows and the sunlight lit his pale skin. His dark hair was pushed back so that his curls gathered behind his head and his high, starched collar made his features seem even sharper. 

He stopped sharply at the top of the stairs and blinked at you. He peered around and squinted, slowly stepping forward to descend the steps. He stood straight across from you, a brow arched as he stared you down.

“Are you lost? I fear you sent away your valet much too soon, madam.” He said.

“My lord, Mr. Laufeyson?” You ventured. 

He frowned. “Everet is a rather odd name for… a woman.”

“My apologies for my deception but you must understand as an editor yourself, a woman’s name doesn’t sell stories, does it?” You let out a shaky breath. “Not that I think it should matter when my physical attributes have little bearing on my writing.”

“Even so, I do value honesty in my writers. Foremost. A lack of such in life might reflect deceit on paper.” He challenged. “And I am not equipped to house… a woman.”

“Women hardly require more than a man. Often less.” You countered. “You made an offer on the grounds of my work, I accepted on the same. I see no reason why it should be an issue. I am determined, would have to be to have a story published, devoted to say the least, and by your own words, a competent writer.”

“I did not… I was not aware…” He sighed. “You can’t expect-- After being so underhanded… How could… I cannot…”

He cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder at the man in the grey suit.

“I’ve taken two coaches and train. I’ve packed up my livelihood in this trunk, I’ve been nothing but honest other than… my true name. You cannot claim my work as ingenuine nor my intentions. I’ve come here to write.” You declared. “I see not how my sex should preclude me from these matters. Would you argue inadequacy based upon my physical stature after proclaiming me capable previously? Sir, I would argue that should suggest a lack of honesty on your part. Not mine.”

He tilted his head and his chin jutted out in irritation. His slender fingers ran the length of his jacket and fiddled with the button.

“Well, you certainly speak like a writer.” He said. “Very well. We shall see what we can mold out of you.” He gestured to the man in the grey suit. “Horace.” He nodded to the trunk. “But do not think my standards shall bend upon your favour, madam.” He warned as the man came down to lift your trunk, barely able to drag it up the steps. “Oh, and your real name, to begin with.”

You recited your name and he spun without acknowledgement. He preceded the man he called Horace through the doors and you hurried forward to grab the other end of your trunk, your valise clutched in your other hand.

Inside, the large foyer was barely lit by the candelabras in the corners. The chandelier above was dark and dusty. You struggled to keep hold of the trunk as you followed Horace. He set down his end and bid you to do the same.

“Madam, please, I will get proper help,” He waved to the lord of manor, already halfway up the staircase. “You might leave your valise and both will be deposited in your rooms.”

“Thank you, sir,” You said before you turned to hurry up behind Lord Laufeyson.

“Your rooms are in the north wing, mine in the south. You needn’t venture very far from your own. I have a maid in the kitchen who will set out meals and Horace oversees our maintenance and the cleaning servants when they are present.” He began. “You will only be required in the bureau where you will take your lessons.”

“Yes, my lord,” You felt completely out of place. You weren’t used to such an immense house, let alone such a prestigious host. 

“Sir will do just fine,” He corrected. “Do you type, madam?”

“No.” You admitted. “I hand write my stories and they are often transcribed by the journals.”

“Mmm, well, then we should add that to the schedule.” He remarked. “I have written out your daily itinerary as you will find in your rooms. “You will wake at six, take your breakfast by the next hour as you will be expected at seven for your first lesson. Lunch will be at noon, you will be permitted recreation at three, tea the following hour, and we shall add typing practice to your evening exercises.”

“Sir,” You said as you followed him.

“This is the bureau where your lessons will be,” He opened a single door. “That…” He looked to the pair of doors at the end of the hall. “Is the library. It will be unlocked during your recreational hour though you might visit the gardens if you choose.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you attend college, madam? I understand they offer schooling for women now.”

“No,” You answered plainly. “I finished public schooling and the rest I did upon my own.”

His eyes strayed in his thoughts and he hummed.

“Well, that sort of discipline is promising, I suppose,” He said. “And you are… unmarried?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, to be expected. A husband shouldn’t allow a wife to live unaccompanied with another man. And yet, an unmarried woman should not allow herself the same discrepancy,” He remanded. “There are proprieties which must be attained. You understand?”

“Sir, I am not wholly unaware of our social bounds. I’ve travelled to write. I haven’t any interest in men to this point and I highly doubt this circumstance should change that.”

He gave a half-chuckle before he caught himself.

“I always found you urban poor had trite mouths,” He sneered. “The factories do allow for unfortunately low association. You lot do sell your morals for a penny.”

“I see no immorality in work,” You argued. “In fact, the poor can rarely afford immorality.”

He looked at you, sternly.

“Let me show you your rooms and you might accommodate yourself to the arrangements,” He gestured you back down the corridor. 

Again, you trailed behind him. The walls were lined with portraits, their frames powdered with dust and canvas washed out with age. He must’ve lived a rather small existence in this immense place. 

He stopped before another door, his fingers wrapped around the handle then he recoiled. He reached into his jacket and slipped out a key with a black ribbon threaded through its loop. He held it out to you.

“These are your rooms. Keep the time. It is late. At four I expect you to take tea in the dining room. The cook should have it upon the table by then.” He watched as you reached to take the key. “When you are finished, our first lesson shall commence in the bureau. Come prepared with a manuscript in hand. I trust you did not come without forethought, especially considering… well, I shall excuse you to acquaint yourself with your quarters.”

He bowed his head, his spine rigid and straight. He sidestepped you and you listened to his hard soles on the wooden floors. You turned as his silhouette disappeared around the sparsely lit corner, the glow of candles flickering along the columns of the rails that overlooked the foyer.

You unlocked the door, your hands unsteady as your nerves remained riled. You’d overcome the first obstacle but this man seemed greater than any challenge you’d known before. Stiff-lipped editors, boastful male writers, dismissive reviewers; you’d faced every kind of foe. 

You shut the door softly behind you, the click made you jump. You were pleasantly surprised to find it the room with the least dust. The windows were open and the curtains were freshly pressed and hung. The bed matched in its tidiness and the roll top desk against the wall was faced with a leather-cushioned chair.

The afternoon sun streamed in enough to light much of the room. Tall candelabras stood on four feet in the corners opposite of the bed. An oil lamp sat on the desk and a smaller candle holder sat on the table beside the bed. A small stool with an embroidered cushion was nestled in the corner and a chair in the French style peered out the far window.

You turned and faced the vast portrait of a man and woman. The former was silver-haired and staunch in his bearing, the woman was seated and gold waves were confined atop her head as a few ringlets framed her face in a style favoured by the previous generations. You tilted your head as you admired the artistry. It was almost as if the elegant couple was truly there before you.

A knock came at the door and you went to it. Horace was there with the man who had opened the gates. They dragged in your trunk and placed your valise at top with overly cordial ‘my lady’s’ in your direction. You wanted to snicker at the undeserved address. You thanked them and they refused a coin from your purse. You were thankful for that as you hadn’t many left.

You took your valise to the bed then returned to the trunk. You unbuckled the straps that held your trunk closed and tossed the lid open. The monstrosity was older than you. You’d bought it used. The lining was torn and most of it gone. You took out the stacks of paper sheathed in leather and rolled up the lid of the desk. You left them there and unpacked your pens and inkwell.

You sat and allowed yourself a breath. You tried to calm yourself. You slowly unwound the strap of the first folder and shuffled through the leaves. There was the story you’d written about the widow left homeless by her dead husband’s gambling debts. The other about the officer who finds himself by a foreign people. 

Then there was that one which you had yet to show any. The one which told the story of a woman; a fraud; a liar. She pretends to be a true lady but is found out. She is tried before the county though she never stole nor harmed anyone. Tried upon her birth and nothing more. You tucked that one away and set aside the one about the widow. Nothing so novel but good enough, you supposed.

You reached to your belt and checked the watch that dangled from it. Like the trunk, it was previously owned by another. It made you want to write a story, a fantasy of its former owner. Of how the initials etched into its back had come to be near indiscernible beneath a series of frantic scratches.

3:37. You recalled Lord Laufeyson had said tea was at four. Not much longer. Barely enough time to ready yourself for his frigidity. Oh yes, he was the very modicum of Victorian temperance. How very dull.

[generallynerdy]

At Home (Elrond X F!Reader)

Summary: And when he kissed her-- fiercely, recklessly-- she’d never felt more at home.

Requested by @lovinghufflepuffgirl: Hello, I believe this my first time requesting and I am so excited! My request is (if possible): Elrond courting the reader (she's a high born elf and a princess) and they fall in love. A grand wedding soon follows. Thank you so much!

Key: (Y/N) - your name, Imladris - the Sindarin (the more common Elf-tongue) name for Rivendell, fëar - souls/spirits in Quenya (the older, rarer Elf-tongue of High Elves) Warnings: cursing in the author’s note as usual, my sister and I made Tolkien-selves once and Elrond was my dad so this was really weird at first but I got over it, the Evenstar is from the movies and it has a sort of book equivalent but I didn’t want to leave out movie-only fans so pre-warning for book fans Word Count: 3,495 WOW. W O W. I have NO self control.

Note: technically speaking you could swap (Y/N) with Celebrian and this would be canon LMAO. Anyway, I made the reader Galadriel and Celeborn’s daughter since to my understanding Elves don’t have princesses? (I haven’t finished reading all Tolkien’s Arda things so I may be wrong, pls let me know if I am.) ALSO UH. This is the longest request I’ve written in,,,so long holy shit. This spiralled. I am so sorry.

     Imladris was beautiful, (Y/N) decided. After a mere few days there, she was certain she could live there for the rest of her exceedingly long life.

    As the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, (Y/N) was of High Elven blood, which many assumed meant that she was accustomed to a certain...luxurious lifestyle. In reality, she had spent much of her life in Lothlórien longing to be elsewhere. The forests of her home were beautiful, she had no doubt of that, but something in her wanted to be elsewhere.

    And, frankly, Imladris felt like that elsewhere.

    It was here she felt safe, here that she spent hours wandering the gardens, something she had hardly ever bothered to do before.

    It was also here that a certain Elf Lord lived.

    Lord Elrond was about (Y/N)’s age, relatively young-- for an Elf-- and a good leader, in (Y/N)’s humble opinion. He was respectful, well-spoken, and, well, handsome.

    The very moment (Y/N) met him, she received a knowing, teasing glance from both of her parents. It took every ounce of will the Elf maiden had to keep herself from either turning bright red or outright flirt with Elrond.

    Despite her excellent first impression of him, she wasn’t quite certain he thought the same of her. He’d hardly spoken a word to her beyond pleasantries.

    She would be offended, but he was a busy man and for that she could not blame him.

    (Y/N) was lucky enough to have a clear schedule. She used most of her time exploring Imladris and found what she believed was going to be her favourite place: a balcony carved into the mountains that overlooked the entire city, a waterfall tumbling nearby. There, she sat on the railing, letting her legs hang over the side despite the danger.

    “Might I join you, my lady?”

    She startled at the voice, but was smart enough not to jolt before she glanced back. “At your leisure, Lord Elrond. This is your home, after all.”

    The man that had yet to leave her thoughts since her arrival was standing there, remarkably relaxed for someone who'd been hosting the Elves of Lorien. The distant setting sun landed on his raven hair, bringing (Y/N)'s attention to it before her gaze slipped to his eyes. Often, the few humans she met spoke of the knowledge the Elves held and how it manifested in their eyes; how they had something beyond in them, how the years they'd lived always seemed plain in their irises. She'd never really understood it until she saw him, saw the wisdom his hundreds of years gave him. It was a funny thing, she thought, that their age would show in their eyes of all things. His were lovely.

Elrond moved to join her at the edge, allowing himself to sit on the railing almost sideways. His feet did not hang over the edge as (Y/N)'s did, but the idea that he'd already followed her so far made her smile.

"I had no desire to interrupt your thoughts," he added quietly as he made himself comfortable.

She knew he was fishing, curious as to what had brought her here. It amused her like nothing else. "Oh, I'm hardly preoccupied. I'm simply...admiring. Your realm is beautiful."

He raised his eyebrows. "High praise from a Lady of Lorien."

"Believe me, the forests of my home are a sight like none other, but this place..." She let out a deep, awed breath. "I have not the words for it. I find myself lost in its sights. I've done nothing these last days but explore, yet I feel there is still so much more to find."

His chuckle surprised her. "I thought the same when I found it. It's why I settled here, after all. I couldn't tear my eyes away. You find it to your liking, then?"

"I adore it," she declared. "Especially the waterfalls. They're almost...other-worldly, as odd as that may sound."

"Hardly," he said, waving a hand. "Have you passed through the one in the lower gardens? There's a cavern behind it with the most beautiful crystal formations in the walls."

Her eyes widened. "No, I hadn't realised. Which garden did you say?"

"I'll have to show you, I think, it's difficult to find." A smile crossed his face. "If you don't object."

"On the contrary, my lord, I'll hold you to your word," she teased, laughing. Then, she sighed. "I do think I could stay here for the rest of my days, if I had the choice."

A pause.

"You could stay, if you wanted," Elrond said suddenly.

(Y/N) turned to look at him so quickly that it almost hurt. "Pardon?"

The smile on his face was...shy, now, and hesitant. It took everything in her not to gawk at the Lord of Imladris being sheepish.

"You could stay, if you wish. There's too much to see for one visit, I think, but you could always return," he said, glancing out onto the horizon.

"And...you wouldn't mind if I stayed? I wouldn't want to become a nuisance," she murmured, reaching up reflexively to fix a strand of hair.

He looked over and shook his head immediately. "Not at all, my lady." Then, he smiled. "In fact, I would enjoy your company."

She was struck with overwhelming joy. Clearly, he hadn’t thought bad of her at all, a thought that had been nagging her. Maybe-- maybe he even thought of her what she did of him. Perhaps he was interested in her in the same way?

(Y/N) couldn't help a wide smile. "Very well, then, I'll stay. We can't have the mighty Lord Elrond dying of a broken heart, after all."

He laughed, his voice a song to her ears. Sitting there, overlooking the city with him, it occurred to her that, yes, she was right before. She could stay here for the rest of her life and be perfectly happy.

*

Many months later, (Y/N) had taken residence in Imladris permanently. (Of course, the lives of Elves were long and she knew not to take her welcome for granted, so many of her belongings still remained in Lothlórien.)

She'd explored much of the city by now, though there were always little things to discover. Many of her days were spent with Elrond, so many in fact that she was practically taking part of Lindir's job. The poor man didn't mind at all-- he was glad to have someone helping, actually.

Especially when it came to Elrond and his habits. (Y/N) found out quickly that he tended to bury himself in his work, regardless of what the work was. She decided, much to Lindir’s amusement, that it was her job to keep him from getting buried alive.

"My lord," she said in a sing-song tone, clearly teasing. "My lord?"

Elrond shot her a dry look from over the edge of his book. He was at his desk in his study, which was covered wall to wall in bookshelves. Lindir hovered by the door, holding back snickers as he watched (Y/N) walk about the desk, almost like she was teasing out a predator; far enough to be safe, but getting dangerously close. The glare they both received only added to the concept.

"This is important business," Elrond drawled. "I'll be with you in a moment."

"You said that many, many moments ago,” she sighed.

"You need to take a break."

"I need to be left alone," he shot back.

She gasped, offended. "Did you hear that, Lindir? How rude."

"How unbecoming of a Lord," her compatriot added, grinning mischievously.

Elrond looked up at both of them with a tired expression. "Don't you have someone else to bother?"

"Not until you die, my dear Elrond," (Y/N) declared decidedly. "Now, let's see...how could I possibly drag you away--"

She cut herself off, snatching the book he held from his hands with the speed of Shadowfax. He made an offended noise, but the deed was done and she waved it about almost gleefully.

"Oh, look! No work now," she said lightly.

"Give it back--"

She smiled brightly. "Or I could--"

"Don't you dare," he very nearly growled, already pushing his chair back and getting to his feet.

"I dare!" she laughed, already darting toward the door. "How rude of you! You are chasing a lady of Lorien!"

"I am chasing a nuisance!" he huffed, chasing after her. "And a threat to my crown!"

The laugh she barked out was almost uncivilized, but she masked it by slipping behind Lindir, using him almost as a human shield. Meanwhile, Lord Elrond stood opposite her, frowning and no doubt trying to use Lindir to his advantage.

"Did you hear that, Lindir?” she asked once more. “I'm a threat to his crown!"

"I can hardly believe it, my lady," he replied dryly.

Elrond made a grab for the book, but she ducked away at the last moment, making a run for the door.

"You'll have to catch me, my lord!" she cackled, very glad that she'd chosen comfortable shoes that morning.

He was right on her heels. "You'll regret this!"

Left behind, Lindir sighed and rolled his eyes, now that he was no longer in respectable company. "One of these days they'll realise this isn't normal."

Outside, in the streets of the city, it was thankfully too dark and too late for anyone to witness Lord Elrond chase Lady (Y/N) building to building, garden to garden. She led him right to the lowermost garden, where he'd shown her the cavern beyond the waterfall weeks and weeks ago. Once there, she quickened her pace and ducked behind a tree to hide.

(Y/N) tried to keep her heaving breaths quiet, peeking around the trunk every few moments.

She frowned when he didn't seem to follow. He'd just...disappeared, really. Looking in the direction from whence she came, she took a step back and shrieked when she hit someone's chest.

Strong arms wrapped around her, but not in a way that was restrictive; she could fight her way out if she wanted. Elrond's rumbling laughter came from deep within his chest. (Y/N) felt it more than heard it as he grabbed his book from her hand. She burst into near-childish giggles.

"I believe this is mine," Elrond hummed.

When she could breathe again, she turned in his hold and hit his chest good-naturedly. "That was terrifying!"

"I thought it would make us even," he said, the smile on his face worth every second of fear.

(Y/N) realised abruptly how close they were, mere inches apart, really. It didn't help that she was still breathing heavily from their chase, something he mimicked as well. His smile fell and his expression became...not solemn, but thoughtful.

"Is my distraction working?" (Y/N) asked, tilting her head slightly.

He chuckled. "Thoroughly." His gaze moved from her eyes to her lips, then back up again.

(Y/N) felt her heart in her chest. For months they'd danced around each other, always thinking but never acting. She was so unbelievably fond of this man, this place, this feeling. It never seemed to leave her alone and yet she'd never done anything about it. Her mother had urged her repeatedly to ask to court him, but it always felt...early.

Elrond let out a sharp breath. "May I--?"

"Yes," she answered breathlessly, already knowing what his question was.

He leaned forward and slanted his mouth against hers, taking away what little air she had left in her lungs. His touch was unbearably gentle and curious, always curious. (Y/N) had never experienced anything quite like it, she thought. It was remarkably like her first day in Imladris.

When they finally pulled apart, she let out a soft laugh, which he echoed. He pulled her closer, closer still, and held her, resting his forehead against hers. And they stayed there, in the garden, comfortably silent.

*

Months went by and slipped into years. The time that passed was mere moments in the life of an Elf, yet (Y/N)'s days in Imladris had never felt longer. Each one was a new adventure, a new experience, and to get to live it by Elrond's side was a blessing.

They began officially courting some time after the garden incident, which Lindir was grateful for. (According to him, their 'pining' was becoming insufferable. (Y/N) had no idea what he was talking about.) Elrond wore the Evenstar, a family heirloom gifted to him by his new partner, while (Y/N) had a circlet of silver to match his own, which he'd had specifically made for her.

It was a slow, comfortable sort of thing, a pace both of them were comfortable with.

Some days, though, (Y/N) felt as though the courtship was pointless. They were practically married as it was, living together and ruling together, in most ways. Elrond had insisted on her becoming comfortable as a lady of Imladris, simply to see if she would enjoy it at all, and she'd fit into the role quite well. The two were, essentially, already settled into a life together.

(Y/N)'s parents thought the same from what she could gather from their letters. Her father, at least, was insisting on a wedding soon, but her mother was far more patient. Celeborn had always been fond of ceremonies, but (Y/N) begged him to wait. She didn't want to push Elrond, not with how busy he always was.

Every week, another letter would come in the mornings by messenger and, every week, she would write a letter back.

One week, however, she didn't receive a letter.

"You're certain?" she asked the messenger.

"Yes, my lady," he replied nervously. "I have no letter for you, only two for my Lord Elrond. I'm sorry."

She frowned. "Odd. Here, I'll take them. He's out with a hunting party."

He handed over the letters, which she took graciously. Biting her lip, (Y/N) was almost tempted to read them when she recognised her mother's handwriting on the outside of both letters. She stopped herself, though, reminding herself that it could be official White Council business. (That was one of the few things she had yet to get involved with.)

Still, it made her smile, seeing her partner's name written in her mother's script. He was fitting in with her family as well as she was fitting in with his home.

A storm of horse's hooves against stone echoed across the city. (Y/N) smiled to herself. Speak of the devil...

Turning on her heel, she watched Elrond ride up to her on his faithful steed, covered head to toe in shining, beautifully crafted armour. He smiled fondly at the sight of her, coming to stop just beside her.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, dearest?" he asked, preparing to dismount. "You never greet me upon arrival."

She rolled her eyes. "I hate to embrace you with the armour and you know it. A messenger from Lorien arrived this morning with two letters for you. From my mother."

His eyes widened. "Oh. I hadn't realised-- one moment--"

He dismounted from his horse, his hesitation making (Y/N) frowned. As soon as he was on the ground, he removed his gauntlets and took the letters, opening the first envelope curiously. When he looked up to see (Y/N) watching him, he smiled.

“I would ask you not to worry, but I know it’s pointless,” he teased.

She huffed, crossing her arms. “Since I’ve come here, my mother has never neglected to write to me, but the one time she does, she writes two letters to you. Care to explain, dearest?”

Elrond chuckled. “Momentarily.”

Pulling out the first letter, he skimmed over its content. Something in the letter caught his eye and suddenly he was beaming, his smile brighter than the sun.

“What?” (Y/N) asked, voice tinged with concern. “What is it?”

Abruptly, he handed her the second letter. She went to rip it open, but he stopped her. “Ah, wait.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? I’ll break your fingers.”

He grinned and held out his hand to her. “Humour me?”

“Fine,” she sighed.

Much to (Y/N)’s surprise, he led her away from the main road of the city and down a familiar path. She laughed when she realised they were headed for the lowermost garden, the place he’d kissed her for the first time, the place he’d spoken of the very first time they’d met. Elrond muttered something about wanting to get rid of his armour, but when she asked, he waved her off.

Finally, he seemed pleased when they found a small stone bridge over a deep creek, a place shaded by trees with a waterfall nearby.

Elrond turned to her and took both of her hands in his, caressing her knuckles with his thumbs. (Y/N) eyed him curiously. She appreciated the gesture, but her curiosity was eating at her. What could her mother have possibly said that prompted this?

“(Y/N),” he called gently, gaining her attention.

“Hm?”

She smiled when he reached out, taking a gentle hold of her chin.

“You have become as much a home to me as this city is,” he murmured, his thumb running up and down the length of her jawline. “Anything you’d ask of me, I would do it.”

She shook her head. “Elrond--”

“I know you would never ask for anything unreasonable and I love you all the more for it,” he added quickly. “And I do love you, more than anything. I don’t think I can imagine living as long as I will without you here.”

“Neither can I,” she admitted with a little laugh.

“(Y/N) of Lorien,” he breathed out, taking both of her hands again, “I humbly ask for your hand: your life, your love. I ask that you make Imladris your home, that you stay at my side for as long as the both of us are on this land and beyond.”

    (Y/N) exhaled shakily. “Oh...oh, my Elrond,” she said, moving to cup his head in her hands. “I’m already home. You never had to ask.”

    She initiated the kiss, capturing his lips with hers and pulling him close. The way he responded, clutching the material of his dress, was almost a thing of relief. He was weightless, so weightless, standing there with her. And (Y/N) felt the same, felt at home here, in ways she never had in the forests of her birth.

    Elrond was the first to pull away. “I had to ask your parents,” he said, laughing.

    “I’m going to kill them,” she hissed, though she didn’t mean it for a second.

    When he pulled her back into his arms, she let herself breathe in and breathe out, her lungs filling with the sweet smell of safety and of love.

*

    Weddings weren’t as ceremonial to Elves as they were to Men. Yes, the ceremony was still a beautiful thing and the respective families attended as best they could manage, but it didn’t take nearly as long to plan.

    As soon as (Y/N)’s parents arrived, they were ready to go.

    (Y/N) donned her best fabrics, just as Elrond did, and met her father, who would escort her to her soon-to-be husband.

    Because Elrond was lord of his people, there were many, many Elves in attendance, which made (Y/N) nervous. However, from the moment she spotted her beloved Elrond, the crowd melted away and a smile came across her face.

    He was speaking quietly with her mother, who held the strips of fabric that would symbolically bind them to each other. But he looked up and saw her, his entire demeanor seeming to shift. He was lighter, all of a sudden, and his eyes shined. Her heart ached to stand with him, to hold his hands and tell him she loved him.

    Soon enough, she was standing with him, her father standing dutifully beside his wife.

    Her mother smiled softly at both of them, but (Y/N) couldn’t draw her eyes away from her partner. Elrond was the same, the twinkle in his eyes saying what he couldn’t.

    “Elrond Peredhel, (Y/N) of Lorien, today the Valar will witness a binding of your fëar,” her mother said. 

She lifted the white fabric and motioned for them to hold out their hands. When they did so, (Y/N) grasping Elrond’s with a breath of relief, she wrapped it around both of them, binding them together.

“And with this, the two of you are bound, forever promised, on these shores and beyond. May you live and love without fear, without darkness.”

As one, (Y/N) and Elrond spoke; “On these shores and beyond.”

And when he kissed her-- fiercely, recklessly-- she’d never felt more at home.

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

[elizabeatrice]

Episode 12 - The Little Mermaid

Let’s Talk About JSHK Anime #3

Warning: Manga spoilers for The Little Mermaid arc, The Clock Keeper arc, and chapter 64!!! (just a bit, skip point no. 5, 6, and 10 if you don’t want to get spoiled) Also … this ended up way longer than I intended.

Well that was one heck of a feels trip. It’s probably my new favorite episode, just because everyone is here being wholesome lmao.

This is mostly hananene meta I ain’t even gonna lie.

Before we begin, shout out to Black Canyon, our newest anime cutie pie. Just look at him, folks. Just chilling with his sunflower seed.

He has no idea the kind of life his owner leads.

I said before that the best part of episode 12 is how it made Daydream worse, so now I’m gonna ramble about it.

“Maybe different species can’t understand each other after all.”

“Maybe it would be better if I were an apparition too.”

This is my favorite part of the episode. And no, not in the sense that I want Nene to die just so that she and Hanako can be together. But because of how Lerche actually explored deeper what was said only once in the manga.

Well, both in the manga and anime Nene ended up accepting the mermaid’s blood because of her desire to be popular, but the anime decided to revisit what she said earlier in the episode.

Not only did that make her decision kinda less selfish, it’s also just … sad. Thinking that your friend, someone you really cared about, doesn’t trust you enough to tell you things about themselves, to the point where you’re willing to go to such lengths as turning into an apparition just to understand them.

And if you think about it, isn’t this part of her true wish? To have her feelings be reciprocated? Man I just realized that as I wrote this and I am mindblown.

She thought she finally got her wish with Hanako. I mean, he said it himself in the first ep (”You wanted someone, anyone, to return your feelings, right? And as far as you’re concerned, sharing a bond with someone is the same thing, right?”). So it must’ve hit her really hard when she thought he didn’t trust her. Especially with all the wrong ideas the fishes were feeding her mind.

Then we got this little flashback. At first I was like, “Girl, you really be thinking that he doesn’t care about you while recalling the moment he apologized to you and hugged you? Are you insane?”

But after some thinking of my own, it occurred to me. Maybe she was too used to having her feelings not reciprocated, she couldn’t believe it when someone finally did. Not to mention Hanako did kinda trick her with his fake confession a while back (heh, he’s not the only one with trust issues, eh?). And that just made the entire thing even sadder.

So when Nene said, “But I thought, if I were an apparition like you, I could get closer to you. Then, maybe I’d be able to understand you, Hanako-kun. Although I know I probably don’t mean anything to you.”

That was a harsh wake up call for Hanako.

(Btw even more full circle, Hanako brought up Nene’s wish to become human again in the first episode. Nice.)

So. We got one daikon girl who’s afraid of not having her feelings reciprocated, and one ghost boy who’s afraid that daikon girl wouldn’t be his friend anymore if she knew about his past.

While in actuality, said daikon girl already decided she wanted to and would be his friend no matter what, and ghost boy had grown to care about her more than he thought he would.

He heard what she said to Tsuchigomori. He knew all about regret, too.  I mean, honestly, I think if she had said no, he’d let her walk away right then and there, no questions asked. But she didn’t.

Nene’s wish finally came true here. And the best part? It wasn’t the work of magic or curses. Just Hanako finally shoving his fear aside, offering himself as he was, and letting her decide.

And she still chose to be with him.

Heh. Lemme just. Sob for a bit.

Is my hananene trash brain reading too much into this? Idk. Maybe.

So props to the production team for managing to add even more weight to this arc. Which, they had to, since it’s the season finale and all. But I love what they did!

Onto my commentaries!

1. The KouNene

Good shit. She was worried about him but he didn’t want her to worry so he just smiled it off? These two are precious. Thought they were gonna interact. Sadly not. Buuuut! (see point 12)

2. Hanako’s classroom visit

He. Is. So. Adorable. Someone please take his babey license away he’s too dangerous.

Hanako’s classroom visit is like my absolute favorite clingy Hanako moment, so I’m really happy I get to see it this season. Ugh. My kokoro. Hugging her from behind, that semi confession vibe … Smooth mf.

The Mokke brushing Nene’s hair!!! The radish hairdo tho lmao.

On a sidenote, as a history nerd I appreciate that they’re actually putting lessons in the background. And the teacher talked about Apollo 11 again??? While my boy was in the room? That ish both hurt and pleased me.

3. The Clock Keeper rumor drop

Heeeeeehhhhh? What’s thiiiiiissss?

4. This freaking thing

*flips table* Darn production team been knew I’m hananene trash how dare they do this to me.

And lookie here there’s Kodama chilling.

5. Fishies! (!!!manga spoiler for The Little Mermaid arc!!!)

Pufferfish didn’t die. Well, good for him. Also I can’t believe they just call the other fish ‘yeah yeah’ lmao what the freak. Has it always been like that in the manga?

6. AOI AND AKANE (!!!spoilers for chapter 64!!!)

I swear I did not intend this numbering coincidence.

*claps* Boi. Nene asking Aoi about cutting ties with someone she’s interested in? And then Akane just swooped in and say he’d rather cut his head off than cut ties with Aoi? What about getting impaled, huh, boy? Would that do?

The not-so-subtle call out to these two pairs’ parallel? BOI.

7. Nene and Yako

These two just chilling together having girl talk, and Yako let Nene pet her? That’s some adorable shit right there. Admit it Yako you like her.

Yako also be really hitting home with what she said. It was extra heavy coming from her, considering what happened to her and Misaki. Boiiiiii.

8. Tsuchigomori

Oh my God, his laughter. Just … oh my God.

Tsuchigomori in dad mode is always one of the highlights of the episode/chapter.

By the way, in this scene according to the sub, Nene asked Tsuchigomori who Tsukasa is. But she knew who he is already. Is it possible that the sub misinterpreted it? ‘Cause I think what she actually meant was, “What happened to him and Tsukasa-kun in the past?”

If someone who speaks Japanese could share their wisdom, please do!

9. The 5 pm bell and twilight

Look how pretty they are!!!

Lo and behold, another important hananene interaction while the 5 pm bell plays in the background. Also, twilight? Y’all giving me Kimi no Na wa flashbacks.

“Twilight, when it’s neither day or night. When the world blurs and one might encounter something not human.”

Huh … kinda fits the ‘boundary’ concept but it still hurt.

Anyway they still had Hanako tell her what she already knew. And I did say in my ‘Walking Blind’ post that it’d be redundant. But since the episode kinda emphasized Nene’s desire to understand Hanako, having him actually tell her himself, even though she already knew it, was a big deal. It’s not about what she knows, it’s about him opening up to her. So I’m super cool with it.

10. The Broadcasting Club (!!!spoilers for The Clock Keeper arc!!!)

I love how Natsuhiko and Sakura are actually decent people. When he told Mitsuba that he was free to choose to stay with them or not? That’s solid, man. Though, of course, Tsukasa might not be as kind.

Speaking of, I know it couldn’t be anything else, but I’m still not sure if Tsukasa’s drawing was confirmation for season 2. Don’t wanna get my hopes up. Imma just enjoy what I currently have.

Kinda curious, though. Because Clock Keeper wasn’t Tsukasa’s doing. Maybe he was the one who released Mirai? But tbh I’d prefer if it wasn’t so. Because having more cases of supernaturals going loco without it being one of Tsukasa’s games is interesting, and kinda underlines the need of The Seven Wonders to keep supernaturals in check.

11. Kodama just chilling

12. The Adventures of Minamoto and the Summer Vegetables

You go, Kou! I’m rooting for you oh my God you’re so precious.

And look at that ikemen smile! Him supporting Kou is just top notch sweet y’all I can’t-

Ngl this was the biggest surprise of the episode. Teru finding out that summer vegetables = Nene? Broooooo. Interesting. I don’t think this little addition warrants any changes to their future interaction, so it should be safe. Clever replacement, too, those veggies.

It’s so sweet that Nene delivered those veggies to Kou! Just imagine the Minamoto family having veggies for dinner. Awww.

(Also, Nene wrote her name in hiragana instead of kanji. Is that a reference to how bad Kou is with kanji? Lol, so sweet)

13. The Coda!!!

Look at him. Just look at him. Look how lovesick he is y’all I can’t-

THEY’RE SO ADORABLE.

All in all, I love this episode. Sorry for how long this post is. I’m just dealing with so many feels right now. Gaaahhhhh.

[emerald-amidst-gold]

The Debauchery Continues..

The next installment in the mini short story of Fane and Solas’s general angst and their devotion to one another! Now with more smutty purpose! *waggles eyebrows* These will be going up on Ao3, eventually! I’m comprising a collection of all my drabbles under Dragon Drabbles!

Beware: There is NSFW content within this section! The next installment with have full blown smut, but this is a prelude to it! Oh, and yes, Solas is a bottom in this fic, but him and Fane switch throughout their relationship.

****

It had taken Fane a total of ten minutes to get him and Solas to his quarters. Why? Well, the elven mage had made it incredibly difficult for Fane to think with the way he had been laying barely perceivable kisses along his jaw and neck, so much so that he had been able to slip from Fane’s embrace with a cheeky smirk of satisfaction before slowly guiding the two of them up the various flights of stairs that dared to exist. Fane enjoyed the height, usually, but in this situation, he cursed the layout of Skyhold. 

“Never have I wished for wings more than during that tortuous ascent.”, Fane grumbled as he and Solas arrived at his quarters, the two just outside the door that led to the - blessedly - last set of stairs. 

Solas gave him a fond smile, coming over to stand next to where Fane currently rummaging through a pouch at his hip. “Indeed. Though, it would have quite possibly been less ‘tortuous’ if you had kept your mind focused on climbing rather than stopping to enjoy the view.” The elven man’s tone was infuriating to Fane because of how knowing it was. 

Fane let out a scoff as he continued to search within the depths of his pouch. “I can’t help that you decided to take the lead. It was only natural that I’d get distracted. You have a very specific gait that makes my mind slam into a wall.”

“Is that so? Tell me; what is so distracting about how I walk?” Solas’s fond smile morphing into a playful smirk. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He grumbled half heartedly before letting out a growl of annoyance. “Oh for fuck’s sake, where the hell is it?”

Solas raised an eyebrow at his words. “What are you searching for, vhenan?” The elven god came closer to him to inspect what he was doing with curious eyes. 

“My damn key.” Fane growled again as he still continued to dig. Of all times for him to not be able to locate something, it had to be now! Typical! 

Solas blinked in minor surprise. “You lock the door?” 

Fane paused in his search to look up at Solas, raising a snowy eyebrow. Was Solas seriously questioning something as mundane as a locked door? Judging by the genuine curiosity donning the mage’s face, that would be a yes. Of course it was a yes.

“I..do.”, he said slowly, confused. “Why is that so shocking?”

“I wouldn’t say it was ‘shocking’, just intriguing.” Solas said, his face slowly morphing back to the mage’s normal expression of quiet observation. “There are not many people who come up here, correct? So, I merely wish to understand the reasoning behind the act.”

Fane couldn’t help but let out a faint chuckle at Solas’s common habit of questioning everything. His sky was full of both trivial and in depth knowledge about magic, the Fade, spirits, the connection between the two, the overall correlation they each have with the waking world, but such things as another’s habits was seemingly foreign to the man. It was intoxicatingly endearing to Fane’s own questioning nature. However, he supposed Solas’s curiosity wasn’t so trivial when it came to this, since the reason behind it was..complex. Then again, everything about him was ‘complex’.

Fane let out a quiet sigh before turning his gaze downwards to resume his search for his key, far more subdued this time. “..I want privacy. That’s the simplistic answer.” He paused once more in his gestures to glance up at Solas, the elf patiently watching him. “..I just..don’t like the thought of someone coming and going as they please, rummaging through my possessions like it’s an auction. I like to have control over what’s mine. I..haven’t really been afforded that in the past..” 

Fane noticed Solas’s demeanor shift at his words as the mage came even closer to place a hand over the one hovering by his pouch. The touch had Fane relaxing his body, not even realizing it had become stiff with subconscious defense. 

“I..apologize. I should not have prodded you like that, especially since I am aware of..what occurred. That was thoughtless on my part..” Solas apologized with a sad smile, stormy eyes a deep blue as they connected with his own. 

Fane shook his head with a small smile of his own. “It’s in the past, even if it still haunts me into the present, but I’m enduring. I’ll always endure, so it’s fine.. ” He assured Solas with a soft voice before leaning in to give the mage a tender kiss to his temple, murmuring against it with a seductive smirk. “..You can prod me in a different way, though.” Attempting to ease the heavy tension born of bitter memories.

As the words tumbled from his lips, Fane felt a firm hand come up to cup his jaw, meeting Solas’s fiery, desire filled glare. Fane merely smirked at the action, letting out a satisfied purr at Solas’s fierce grip. That sparked the fire of lust again - violently so. 

“You will have to unlock the door first, ma’isenatha.” Solas purred out before releasing his jaw slowly, taking a step back to motion towards the door with a tiny smirk. “Or is that too difficult a task for you?” 

Anyone else, Fane would have taken that jab as an insult, but from the look in Solas’s eye, he could tell it was anything but that. A wolfish smirk graced Fane’s lips as he calmly, slowly closed the flap of his pouch to turn his back to the door. He watched as Solas’s gaze became calculating, predatory, the apostate putting his arms behind his back with a raised eyebrow, waiting. 

“Perhaps you should unlock the door, then.” Fane offered, leaning back against the door with his arms crossed. “Since you’re so impatient.”

“I would not wish to invade your privacy, vhenan, nor would I deign to take control from you.” A smirk slowly starting to form on Solas’s blank face. 

“Take control? Ohh, no, no, no.” Fane laughed out the statement deeply, darkly, his voice a delicious timbre before he saw gold tint the edges of his vision - signaling the rush of emotions within him having changed his eye color. “..You would be giving me control. Again, the room above is mine, so anything within it is mine.” He insinuated enticingly, tapping a finger idly against a crossed, muscled arm - the tap, tap, tap of delicate leather stimulating his senses even further.     

Keen gold eyes watched as a light shudder coursed through Solas’s body from his insinuation before the elven man carefully, calmly, closed the distance between them once more, stormy eyes blown wide with poorly restrained lust. Fane tilted his head slightly, still smirking as he gazed down at Solas. This was endlessly fun, and Fane was generally unaccustomed to ‘fun’.

“I would have you know, I do not submit easily. It may be a near fruitless battle if you do not act soon..” Solas whispered out, his own voice deep and challenging before it uttered a single word with silky seduction. “..Aterian.” 

The pale gold tint dispersed as Fane’s eyes morphed and solidified into solid amber before he brought a single elbow down to smash in the door’s handle - the wood cracking with a satisfying crunch before it slowly opened. His chest was heaving with overwhelming emotions and anticipation as he saw Solas barely even flinch at his display of raw strength, deep blue eyes seeming to narrow with pure want from it instead. Ohhh, the sky was vast, and how Fane wished to fly in it.

“Come now, my dragon..” Solas practically growled as he took another tentative step forward, almost bringing them chest to chest. “..you can surely show me more than that. I wish to see the force behind centuries of yearning, of desire, of love. Be not ashamed of what you feel. Show me, as only you can.” An irresistible challenge hanging between them as all encompassing gold drowned in fathomless blue. 

Fane felt himself clench and unclench his hands, digging into the material of his leather wraps as his tightly bound control began to fray at the seams. Everything that he was hearing, seeing, and feeling was making it incredibly difficult to think, to focus, but for some reason, it only made him desire more. He desired to rip and tear into pathetic cloth, shedding both him and Solas of a suffocating barrier that dared separate them further. He desired to pin and bind the god, who was looking at him with both love and lust, and make him scream in ecstasy. He desired to lose himself in what would be an undeniable frenzy of sensations and emotions, allowing himself to bask in heat and wanton bliss. He desired the touch of skin as it became soaked in sweat, as it quivered with the yearning to come undone. He desired.. He desired everything. 

Fane let his eyes slip shut as his chest heaved from both Solas’s words and his own frenzied thoughts before opening trembling lips to speak.

“I..I..cannot..” He tried to deny, his draconic nature combating his mortal wants. 

“You can, emma’lath.” Solas whispered to him encouragingly, carefully placing his hands on Fane’s now deeply flushed face to hold it tenderly like a precious keepsake. “Let us both relinquish our mantles for a night, if only to make their weight come morning a touch easier to bear.” Solas’s thumbs reverently caressing his face as an uncommon smile of pure joy graced the mage’s lips. 

Fane couldn’t help but let out a tiny, albeit shaky, chuckle as he leaned into Solas’s touch. He was losing his mind, wasn’t he?

“It’s unlike you to be so..optimistic.” He stated with a tiny smile, shuddering lightly as another wave of emotions coursed through a muscled frame. “Or will you leave me in the morning when doubt rears it ugly head again? Are pretty words just to soften the inevitable blow?” A surge of fear and worry shuffling into the mix of wayward emotions. 

Fane watched as Solas let out a saddened chuckle of his own before pulling his face down to lay a tender, chaste kiss to his lips before pulling back to gaze at him seriously. “If you were anyone else, I would say ‘yes’, albeit with great anguish. However..” The mage trailing off as he closed in again to murmuring against Fane’s lips. “..you are not ‘anyone else’, nor will you ever be. You are my dragon. You have seen me at my lowest and greatest, and never once turned your back on me. You trusted me when you could have just as easily killed me, solely on the fact of what I was, who I was. You know everything about me, as I know everything about you.” Solas pressed their lips together just a bit more. “..There is nothing to hide, so I have no need to run from you. I only hope you do not fall because of my own mistakes again. My heart would not be able to endure another crushing blow like that, so please, ma’isenatha, I want you to at least promise that you will turn your back on me if I fall too far for even your wings to follow.. Please..” 

That single, but heavy statement had the rope that was Fane’s restraint snapping like a flail as he surged forward to seal their lips together desperately, barely registering the quiet sound of shock from Solas as the force nearly sent the two of them into the frame of the partially destroyed door. He felt Solas grip his face more desperately as the two began to naturally fight for dominance, Fane lifting an arm to slam a hand into the door frame as he felt Solas’s tongue swipe beckoningly along his bottom lip. He kept his lips firmly sealed in an act of defiance, Solas merely redoubling his efforts by harshly nipping at the supple flesh before soothing it with another sweet caress. He let out a deep hum as the routine continued exactly the same - steadfast in his refusal to allow entry - before Fane tilted his head slightly to throw the mage off, the two beginning anew with more sensual, and languid movements as their lips moved in perfect unison with each other. A brush of a thigh against his own had Fane letting out a deep growl, the force behind it making his chest rumble dangerously.  

Shit, I’m losing it. I want him, I want him, I want him, I want him..! I will not leave him, I will not, I will not..! His mind frantically reiterated before the thigh that had brushed against his own shifted to touch at a far more sensitive area. Fane’s body went stiff at the sensation before he felt his entire body quiver, even as he felt Solas continue to peck at his lips softly. 

Yes--Fane wanted everything Solas had to offer, and he would claim it as only a dragon could. 

The hand that had been beginning to dig into stone and wood flew down to take Solas by the neck firmly, as Fane let an ancient instinct take hold of him, momentarily registering the shocked, but pleased gasp that Solas let out around their lips at the action. Fane could barely hear himself think as he began to lay feverish kisses along Solas’s jaw, the hand around the mage’s neck tightening for a moment before relaxing slightly. 

I desire him, I need him, I wish to claim him.. Let me have him, please, please.. Just for tonight, if nothing else. I will desire no more than this.. No more, so please.. His mind and soul begged to the ghosts of his past, as memories of brilliant eyes turning grey threatened to ruin the moment for him. 

“Aterian..” Solas whispered his name with a loving smile gracing his features, the reverent tone throwing off Fane’s depressive thoughts. “Do not allow your mind to leash you. Break those shackles for me, my dragon. Break them..”

Fane merely narrowed his eyes as the heavy double meaning of Solas’s words sank in - a feeling like someone swinging a hammer down on him causing him to surge forward once more to take advantage of Solas’s momentary weakness, shoving his tongue into the mage’s slightly agape mouth deeply.

“Ngh..!” He heard Solas let out a quiet, but surprised noise before the mage sighed through his nose pleasantly. 

Hands that had been once holding his freckled face came up to fist into his snowy hair as Solas attempted to bring him in closer, even as Fane practically had him pinned against the doorway by his neck alone. Fane brought his other arm up to wrap around Solas’s body tightly, pulling the man’s body flush against his own as their kiss became more frantic, their tongues pushing, pulling, dancing to an invisible rhythm as promises of bliss and sorrow lingered in the electrified air. He slid a leg between both of Solas’s, releasing the choke hold he had on the mage to ghost his hand upwards to tease at a sharp jawline. The gesture had Solas letting out a quiet hum before Fane pulled back slowly, the length and ferocity of the kiss nearly making him collapse from a lack of oxygen, as well as the flushed appearance of the man in front of him who looked equally as overwhelmed.

“Fuck.. Fuck..” He cursed out harshly between gasping breaths, eyes hooded with pure desire as he took in Solas’s equally as gasping appearance. “Fenedhis..” The elven slipping out without him even thinking about it as emotions began to cloud his mind from their potency. This was bad. He was slipping, but why didn’t he care?

He watched as Solas merely nodded quickly, chest heaving harshly as the elven god shut his eyes to reign in his breathing, a weakened hand coming down to rest on a broad chest. Despite the well of emotions surging through him Fane couldn’t help, but lean down a bit more to lay several tender kisses upon Solas’s neck, aiming for the mage’s rapidly fluttering pulse point without much thought. He desired more, even though he could barely breathe..

As if on cue, Solas’s hands gave his hair a firm yank as he practically arched into Fane’s body, only letting out a quiet, choked gasp in approval of the kisses despite the way his chest still heaved uncontrollably. The sound and harsh treatment only made Fane intensify the strength of his kisses as he began to nip and teasingly lick at warm flesh, relishing in the way Solas practically tensed and then melted in his arms with heated sighs.  

“Aterian.. E..Easy, v..vhenan.. I--!” Solas attempted to steady him with a light push before Fane latched onto the butterfly of a pulse, harshly sinking his teeth into the soft patch. “Aghk..!” Solas bit out around another choked sound, his body practically trembling with ruinous abandon. 

Fane firmly worried the tender flesh between his teeth before releasing it to slowly run the flat of his tongue along the abused spot, the delicate tang of blood sending a throb downwards as he slowly pulled back to inspect the damage. The sight of a forming love mark had Fane snarling in satisfaction before he gazed down tenderly at the quivering mess of his lover, one of Solas’s hands braced back against the door while the other was now tightly fisted into Fane’s tunic.

Gold eyes roamed over Solas’s form, taking in the way the mage’s body heaved and lightly shuddered before a hung head slowly rose to level Fane with a truly dangerous, but lust addled glare. Fane could only smirk wickedly at the hue of crimson adorning the elven god’s face in conjunction to the slightly bleeding mark on his neck. 

This was delightful in its wickedness. Why had he and Solas held off on this for so long again?

“Hmm..” Fane hummed, ghosting the hand that was upon Solas’s jaw downwards to stroke his thumb across the mark he had made, swiping the small pool of blood to then bring it to his lips with an even more devilish smirk. “A dragon’s stirring, my sky. Do you wish for it merely to observe you? Or..” The ideology of his kin twisting deliciously as he dragged his tongue along his thumb, narrowing his eyes as he watched Solas’s stormy eyes blow wide with want. “..do you wish for it to ruin you?” 

As the unexpected words tumbled from behind his thumb, Fane watched as Solas steadily stood himself up straight, a rough chuckle rumbling from a now lightly heaving chest. Fane raised a snowy eyebrow at the sound before his eyes went wide at the glint of indigo in Solas’s eyes, the mage’s face spreading into a wicked smirk before arms came up to wrap around his neck tightly.

Oh no, was the only thing Fane could think of as he took in the deepened hue of Solas’s eyes more closely.

Solas leaned in to him fully, boldly swiping his tongue against Fane’s lips to catch the faint remnants of blood left behind before purring against them deeply. 

“I wish for it to stop stalling with tepid attempts.” The words are a hot stab to Fane’s decaying restraint with how much challenge they held. 

“Hmph. Says the one currently rutting against my thigh like a halla in heat..” Fane growled out, the challenges from Solas making his blood boil with lust.

“It is performing where you..ngh..refuse to.” Solas attempted to bite back, but his voice faltered from the sensation of friction that was born from where he was teasingly dragging himself along Fane’s thigh - intentionally missing where Fane desired him most.

“Ohhhh, you better stop, wolf.. Or we won’t make it upstairs..” Their eyes connecting with nearly tangible fire threatening to set them ablaze before Solas closed the distance between their hips - the pure tingling surging up Fane’s body and back down to his nether regions ripping the air from his lungs harshly with a loud gasp. 

“So many words, so little action..” Solas purred, a few fingers tapping against one of Fane’s shoulders.

Fane let out a dark snarl as the words set a smouldering fire ablaze within his soul, pushing Solas away with a firm shove, and watching raptly as the elven god never once took his eyes off of him - stormy like a true monsoon as they bore piercing holes into him. They gazed into each other’s souls before Solas crossed the threshold with one. single. step. 

The silent recognition of his earlier words were not lost on Fane as he watched Solas shuffle into the opening completely, the man’s smirk softening into a warm smile before he held out a hand to him - eyes laden with sultry promise as they never once left his own.

“From this point on, I am yours, correct?”

Fane’s eyes went wide before he gave Solas a slow nod of his head, a small smile momentarily cooling him, even as his whole body sang with want. Solas..was giving him control where normally the mage would be hesitant to do. It was a sign of trust, of devotion, of vulnerability, of..love. It made Fane’s mind turn hazy as even more wayward emotions slammed into him - his labored breathing beginning anew with soft pants. 

“You..would be. You’re willing to give that to me?” He asked softly, despite his body beginning to tremble with restraint.

“I am.” Solas said without missing a beat, eyes serious despite the softness they held for him.

Fane faltered at the immediate response before hanging his head in defeat, chuckling quietly as he rested a bent arm against the ruined doorway. This elf would be the death of him. To give him everything so easily, as if it were a simple truth of the world, made Fane truly believe, for the moment, that everything he was, was a blessing after all.

With a quiet, shaky breath, Fane lifted his head slowly to level Solas with a predatory gaze, the mage faintly biting into his bottom lip at the sight. The action had Fane’s smirk returning as the roaring inferno within him blazed anew with incandescent purpose. 

“You are mine.” He snarled out deeply, pushing himself off the doorway with his arm to stalk towards the elf.

“I always have been.” Solas merely smiled at him, reaching up to touch his cheek delicately before leaning up to lay a tender kiss to his lips, quietly murmuring against them. “So, take me as you wish. Take me, my dragon..”, the Elvhen dripping off of Solas’s tongue like wicked honey. 

That was all the incentive Fane needed as he surged forward to grab Solas by an arm, the mage merely smiling as he followed Fane up the stairs without fuss, even as the door of privacy laid in splinters at the bottom.

There was no shame, no sin in what they had. That was all Fane could reiterate in his mind as they ascended the last stairway to blessed bliss.

****

That’s right! You funny bunnies have to wait even longer for the full smutty effect! *laughs manically* This is my first time writing smut, so forgive me my inexperience!

Note: Just a little insight in to why I tend to write Solas the way that I do. A lot of it is gentle conforming to slot his personality in response to Fane’s. I know that Solas is generally reserved, quiet, observing, calculated, and overall aloof and sorrowful - weighed down by duty and guilt, but if you were to place a character that knew him and bonded with him, then he would take on a softer persona. At least, that’s how I feel. I like exploring Solas’s softer sides, whereas the game explores those only minimally. I also just like to reaffirm (to myself) that Solas does have emotions, they’re simply hidden because he has to keep a lot of things hidden in Inquisition. However, with Fane and my AU, he doesn’t have to hide from him. So, when they’re alone, Solas is far more pliable and responsive to opening up, as is Fane. It’s simply a different perspective of the character, and by no means am I trying to bash Solas’s original demeanor; I’m just exploring things that I would have liked to experience with him while attempting to keep him in character. I don’t know if I’m succeeding sometimes, but it’s a learning process!

[jaxsteamblog]

Oma and Shu

Click here to read the full fic on AO3

Katara remembered what Rohan had told her about King Bumi. Avatar Aang had friends in every nation, but Bumi was always his closest companion and became another father figure in his children’s lives. In one familial anecdote, King Bumi had placed Baby Bumi on his throne and let him rule for the day, daring anyone to definitively prove that he wasn’t the actual king. 

It was this intimate friendship that kept Omashu safe during the war until Aang passed. King Bumi was killed during the fall of Omashu, outliving his promise to Aang that he would see the end of the war. 

His heir, Queen Liu, was not a relative. She had been his head accountant and, as stated in Bumi’s will, had been actually running the kingdom for the past decade. A head for numbers but little skill with people, Liu relied on her inherited friendship with Aang’s family to keep her seat in the turbulent political waters. 

When Zuko had reached out, hoping for a visit, Liu cleared out a villa near the palace for them. Their interactions with the Queen when they first arrived was brief, and the dinner was slightly awkward, but the villa was airy and Katara could watch the ancient mail service fly by the windows. 

Now, after the failed kidnapping, they were being brought in for a royal audience.

“I am so sorry.” Liu gushed as soon as they stepped into the throne room. Her green suit was rumpled and her crown was tangled in her short hair, giving her a frantic look that matched her energy. 

“I had my security team sweep through the area just this morning.” She continued, taking quick strides to meet them. 

The guard attending them stumbled to a stop, unsure of how to proceed. 

“Your majesty, if my suspicions are correct, there was a lot of money that made sure you wouldn’t find out anything until it was over.” Zuko said, holding up his hands. 

“And we’re fairly certain they weren’t planning on killing us.” Katara added, looking at Zuko. “Having us gravely wounded would have gotten the same result.” 

Liu stared at them. Despite her inexperience with political machinations, she was still brilliant with equations. She snapped her attention to the guard, who reacted with the same alacrity as they saluted her.

“Find out who let them in and bring the persons responsible directly to me. I want it quiet.” She said. The guard nodded and left quickly, their heavy armored clothes making a clatter.

“I hope you don’t think Omashu is involved in this.” Liu said, attending to Katara and Zuko.

“Not at all.” Zuko said.

“Well, there might be some bad blood.” Katara interjected, rubbing the back of her neck.

The scorch marks, barely a decade old, were still present on the walls. 

“Which may have been part of the plan.” Zuko agreed.

“So you do suspect someone here?” Liu asked coldly.

“No, your majesty. Only that an interested party in the Earth Kingdom would leverage that fact. Omashu was the only kingdom that was successfully invaded.” Zuko explained.

“Hmm.” Liu sounded irritated but then she let out a breath.

“We cannot come to war again. With the Fire Nation or another city-kingdom.” She said, pressing the tips of her fingers to her temple. 

“We don’t want that either.” Katara said, taking Zuko’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Liu saw the movement and her eyes narrowed. 

“How did you escape your assailants?” Liu asked.

Zuko and Katara looked at each other.

“The badgermoles saved us.” Katara said, facing Liu.

“Of course they did. They’re nothing if not hopeless romantics.” She replied. 

Both being completely confused, they stayed quiet as Liu untangled her crown. The queen sighed as she straightened her hair and replaced the simple piece. She turned around and walked back to the throne, her hands behind her back. 

Katara and Zuko followed after, walking slowly.

“I asked Bumi why he picked me, since I was the furthest thing from royalty in the entire kingdom.” Liu said suddenly, putting her hand on the flat arm of the stone throne. 

“I’m a competent Earthbender and, like him, I know my crystals.” She continued. Lifting her hand, a column of purple crystal sprouted up after her. “But I’m a bastard.”

Lowering her hand, Liu pressed the crystal back into the nondescript stone. 

When they didn’t reply, Liu snorted and sat down on the throne. Tapping lightly on the arms again, crystals erupted all around her. 

“Oma was the first Earthbender and she ripped this entire kingdom up from the ground in her grief. There used to be a forest here, did you know that?” Liu asked. “It was mostly destroyed in the war between her village and Shu’s, but the rest lost its roots when Omashu emerged.

“Bumi told me that every single ruler of Omashu has been a bastard, because of one simple curse.” 

“A curse?” Zuko repeated.

“No one had seen earthbending before. What Oma did was something people thought only the spirits themselves could accomplish. They thought her a witch, and probably would have sent her off with Shu had they not been thoroughly terrified.” Liu said. “And when she raised Omashu, she vowed never to marry and that if any marriage occurred in the royal line, they would be as barren as the desert that surrounds us. But worse, if the blood of fated lovers was ever spilled again in Omashu, the kingdom would fall.”

“So are you…?” Katara started and Liu shook her head.

“Bumi’s preferences would have a slim chance of ever producing natural children. I’m the illegitimate child of a professor and a housekeeper.” She answered. 

“Wait, are you saying that you’re worried the kingdom will fall now?” Zuko asked. 

“Had either of you died, I think we can all agree that plenty of people would look to hold me responsible.” Liu said. “My claim to this throne is tenuous at best, considering my history and Bumi’s chaotic whims.” 

“I think prophecies and curses are made vague enough that a random coincidence could fulfill it.” Katara said. 

“Why did you choose to visit Omashu?” Liu questioned.

“Our, well, the first time we went out together was to see an art exhibit about Oma and Shu.” Katara answered. “It was Zuko’s idea.”

“And why did you choose that?” Liu inquired.

“I.” Zuko cleared his throat and avoided eye contact. “I mean, I thought the similarity was interesting.”

“Two people from opposite sides of the war, but claiming no allegiance, love each other even as their people condemn them for it?” Liu asked. 

Zuko shifted uncomfortably and Katara stared at him, mildly irritated and incredulous.

“In the name of Oma’s bastard children,” Liu said, speaking the typically annoyed phrase with lofty importance. “I acknowledge the bond of this pair and will strive to protect it.”

The solemnity fell on them, and Katara couldn’t even feel awkward. 

“For as long as you two are together, you will have the friendship of all of Omashu behind you.” Liu said, speaking casually now. 

“Thank you, your majesty.” Zuko said and bowed. Katara mirrored him, but felt empty inside. 

She didn’t want prophecy or fate. She didn’t want a legacy to protect. She certainly didn’t want any part of a curse.

She just wanted Zuko.

But, Katara felt the warmth swirl in her chest, that was probably all Oma wanted too. To be with her beloved.

“Thank you.” Katara whispered to earth. 

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[eigwayne]

Fic Time! It’s the first part of the ChengQing fic I keep mentioning.

A Little Spoiled

Rating: Explicit Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) Relationship: Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín/Wēn Qíng Characters: Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Wen Qing (Módào Zǔshī) Language: English; Words: 4045; Chapters:1/4

Additional Tags: Inadvisable Hook-ups, paying for groceries as a form of affection, kinda sugar daddy jiang cheng, Emotional Constipation, First Time, Awkward First Times, vacillating wildly between annoyed and horny, as many of us are when jiang cheng is involved, Secrets, drama canon

Read chapter 1 on AO3 here.

Wen Qing knows this is a bad idea. He's short tempered, fought a war against her clan, and has responsibilities that dont- can't- include her. She returned his comb and is keeping a secret that could destroy him.

But he's paying for much-needed supplies and when he almost smiles she can pretend things are simpler, that he's just the shy young master who could have loved her. And sometimes even the most commanding people want to be a little spoiled.

(A vaguely drama-canon-compliant affair between Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng during the Burial Mound era, where secrets are kept, gifts are bought, and Wen Qing struggles between respect for herself and desire for Jiang Cheng before deciding she wants to attempt to have both. Fic concept notes at the end, if you’re into that.)

Wen Qing inspected the produce, turning over a potato as she checked for faults. Most were unsprouted but one never really knew. And she certainly didn’t want Wei Wuxian to think she was encouraging him. This was a treat, not a crop! Wen Ning stood behind her, patient as always and uncommenting on her vegetable selections, with his now-empty radish basket waiting to be filled.

“We’ll take some,” she said to the seller, “but you’re asking simply too much for…” A flash of purple caught her eye. Her heart jumped at the thought of him, although it wasn’t easy to tell if it was fear or not.

(Fear would be safer. Her family had made enemies of the Great Sects, Jiang Wanyin more than most, and she should be wary of him. But late at night, when she let herself dream… Well, that was a different story and she certainly wasn’t going to mull that over right there in the marketplace.)

Either way, he had as much right to cross Yiling as she did; Wei Wuxian hadn’t started a sect no matter what the rumors said and Yiling was no one’s territory. She pretended to be unaffected, hoped Wen Ning hadn’t noticed him, and turned back to the potato seller. “No, this price is too much. I am willing to spend…”

Later, potatoes successfully haggled to a reasonable price and more Wen Qing-approved vegetables joining them in Wen Ning’s basket, the Wen siblings walked together toward the exit of the market square. Wen Qing could almost pretend things were normal- that Wen Ning was alive and well, and she was simply restocking her dispensary. They would go home and everyone would have enough to eat and-

She cut that thought off before it could go further. It was too tempting, the fantasies and could-have-beens. Her mind supplied enough of those as she lay in the dark, in the moments after she laid her head on her pillow and before sleep claimed her. And her mind supplied more as she paused near a display of haircombs.

‘I should have at least asked him for some seeds and fertilizer when I gave it back,’ she thought as she remembered Jiang Wanyin’s gift. She thought of a million things she could have asked him for, after the comb had already been returned. But a rebuilding sect could spare none of it, really, and the unspoken offers were heavier than the spoken one. And all of it was foolish could-have-beens.

But she had a practical reason for looking at combs. The last good comb had broken tines and A-Yuan needed something gentle on his scalp. He cried every time he had his hair combed and that simply wouldn’t do.

“I have a few small things to get,” she said to Wen Ning. “I’ll be along shortly. Head back and help the others, okay?” He nodded and murmured his assent, and turned back to the main road. Her heart swelled with fondness. Such a good, obedient, caring boy, even now.

Wen Qing stood in front of the display, looking for something inexpensive but well-made, the tips blunt enough for A-Yuan.

At her level of cultivation, she easily felt him approach. He wasn’t even attempting to hide his presence, but she would know the feel of him even if she was drowning in the resentment of the Burial Mounds. There was his natural energy, a tumultuous pulse that she had spent so long rebuilding. There was the electric feel of his inherited spiritual weapon. And although it wasn’t something she could detect consciously, she imagined she could feel it, as the one who put it there- the blazing heat of Wei Wuxian’s golden core.

He was a storm made flesh, and he stood beside her in the marketplace of Yiling. And he said, his voice low and tight in her ear, “If you needed a comb, you should have kept the one I gave you.”

Anger flashed through her- how dare he get so close, use that voice! How dare he say something like that without even looking her in the eye! How dare he speak of it in public at all! But she swallowed it, never let it reach her face. It was a skill she learned serving a harsher master than he.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” she said with a slight curtsy. It was cute and feminine and she should have bowed, to remind him they were both cultivators and she was not without power, but she was standing straight again before it even occurred to her.

He bowed to her then, just the correct angle for politeness’s sake.

“I need a comb for a child,” she said calmly, in response to his words. “That comb should be given to a bride.”

He flinched, visibly, and she turned back to the display. The shopkeeper was surely drawing conclusions but if she wanted Wen Qing’s business, she’d keep her mouth shut.

She selected two combs, simple in design but tines sanded smooth and blunt with care. Jiang Wanyin stood beside her the whole time and she drew it out, letting him stew. He could say something if he wanted her attention that badly. He certainly had no qualms about getting close enough to be heard.

But drawing it out too long would be a waste of her time, too, so she eventually made her decision. As she reached for her too-thin money pouch, Jiang Wanyin stopped her. His hand was warm on her forearm but then, she was always cold. They were all a little cold, on the Burial Mounds.

“You don’t have to,” she hissed.

“I don’t,” he agreed, and handed the shopkeeper the silver.

The combs were wrapped in fabric- not patterned silk, just a soft linen Wen Qing would use for patching or handkerchiefs later- and she led Jiang Wanyin a few steps away.

“I do not intend to owe you anything,” she said, voice low as she dug the silver out of her pouch to repay him. She didn’t bother to hide her annoyance.

“It’s a gift. Keep your money.”

She looked at him, lips tight. There was still tension in his face (perhaps there always would be), but she saw the shadow of the boy he had been. The boy who looked at her with wonder and longing. It was just a tiny, dying ember but the fact that it was there at all, after everything, made her breath catch in her throat.

‘He is so soft when he hopes, like he could be gentle again someday. Is this what drove Wei Wuxian when he begged me to do the surgery?’

She turned away, too aware that she was staring. “I don’t want to discuss this in the middle of the market.”

“Shall we have tea, then? My treat,” he said, and pushed past her to head for the teahouse. She followed him, and cursed herself for a fool.

They got a private room, but tea was served and they savored the first sips before either of them spoke to the other. Wen Qing broke the silence first.

“Why are you in Yiling?”

“I was passing through,” he said.

“Passing through,” she scoffed. “With no disciples? Do you take me for a fool? Sect Leaders don’t travel by themselves.”

The look on his face was hard, angry, but embarrassed. “I sent them on ahead when I saw you,” he admitted.

She still wasn’t sure she believed the ‘passing through’ bit, but let it go. “You could have just left. I wouldn’t have blamed you for not wanting to speak with me.”

“A-jie would want to know how Wei Wuxian is doing. Who better to ask?”

Wen Qing would have been disappointed that he had not stopped for her, but Wei Wuxian had always been what brought them into each other’s orbits. “He’s managing,” she said. “Still bothering me about potatoes. Trying to branch out into even more fickle plants.” Nevermind that she was the one who enabled Wei Wuxian in the first place, buying those lotus seeds.

Jiang Wanyin huffed. “He never could do the practical thing.”

“It seems to be working. The lotuses are growing well, at least.” Wen Qing bit back a smile at how his eyes bulged. Good. Let him be surprised.

Jiang Wanyin looked down at his tea for a moment, digesting the fact that the man he cast out, the man he let exile himself, was growing the family emblem. Wen Qing waited a bit, then asked, “So what made you take out your wallet for my combs? We’re not beholden to you. Or was that also an excuse to ask after Wei Wuxian?” She wasn’t going to lie to herself about the combs any more than she would about his reason for stopping at all. Jiang Wanyin may still hold a tiny spark of his adolescent crush but he was no altruist.

“I felt like it, and Yunmeng Jiang is in a position where I can do things because I feel like doing it,” he said.

So he was showing off. She bit back the urge to slam her teacup back on the table. As it was, she still put it down with more force than strictly necessary.

“You don’t need to look down on us, Sect Leader Jiang,” she said with as much calm as she could muster. “It may be a simple life but we are managing.”

“Are you? Because I remember what you looked like before. Are you getting enough to eat? Is that boy getting enough?”

“You would dare-“

“I would dare! Wei Wuxian meddled in things he shouldn’t have, and now he can’t even take care of you! This is what playing hero does! You’re still suffering!”

“There are different types of suffering. I prefer this to the Jins.”

Her voice was level, the heat simmering below the surface of her cold tone. Jiang Wanyin had the grace to look embarrassed. They sat in silence again, and Wen Qing contemplated on whether she should leave now or later, after their food was brought in. Her pride said now. Her stomach said later.

“I’m not a hero like he is,” Jiang Wanyin said before she decided. He looked down at his teacup rather than meet her eyes. “I can only protect what’s mine. But I still wish to include you in that, sometimes.”

“So you bought my combs?”

He gave a curt nod. “I know I’m nothing compared to him, but-“ There was a soft knock at the door of their private dining room. They fell silent again as a waiter bustled in and their food was set down. The smell set Wen Qing’s stomach growling and she had to hold herself back, too conscious that eating quickly would make her sick, and prove Jiang Wanyin’s point about the insufficient dietary needs in the Burial Mounds (she also wondered how much she could stow away to bring home for A-Yuan without sacrificing too much of her dignity). And frankly, she had better manners than to bolt her food in front of a Sect Leader, no matter how much she wanted to. It kept her occupied, keeping up the pretense of being genteel, and she didn’t have to think about how this was possibly her longest conversation with Jiang Wanyin and how Wei Wuxian would be surprised at open he was with her. She wouldn’t think about how he looked healthy enough, no signs of weakness in his spiritual energy (although she’d have to check him properly to be sure, and oh, how her fingers twitched to grasp his wrist at that!), or how he looked charmingly uncertain when the silence went on. And she definitely wouldn’t think about how pink his lips were around his chopsticks.

She had just taken a bite of course, when he finally spoke again. “It’s been six months since A-jie got married. My third-in-command- well, second-in-command, now- he knows what to do to keep things running. Now that most of the boardwalks are rebuilt, it seems all I do is paperwork and oversee lessons. Buying those combs… I felt….”

He poked at his food with his chopsticks, clearly not comfortable with the thoughts he was forming. No one Wen Qing knew was comfortable with that much truth about themselves.

‘For all we aspire to the inner peace an immortal would have, we are ill-suited for it,’ she thought, about herself and Jiang Wanyin and every cultivator they knew (except perhaps her own little brother).

“You felt needed?” she suggested. “There would be nothing wrong with that, if we were any other people.”

“If we were any other people, I would buy you much more than a couple combs.” As soon as the words were past his lips, he looked up at her with wide, startled eyes. He clearly hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

She should ignore it, might have if they were adolescents still, but the fresh food with proper spices (and no radishes at all, because even she was sick of them by now) made her feel alive and bold.

“If we were other people, I would let you,” she said. As angry as he made her mere moments before, she liked this honesty in him. She was treated to the sight of hope in his expression again- a softening of tension, the creases between his brows smoothing just a bit- before he remembered his responsibilities.

“I can’t spend too much more- time or money. My disciples will worry if I don’t catch up with them soon. But-”

“It’s fine. I also have to get back before anyone starts to worry.”

“Let me walk you back,” Jiang Wanyin said in a rush.

Wen Qing wanted to say ‘yes’. Jiang Wanyin was pleasant to look at, after all, and had warm hands. If he was a bit awkward and kept putting his foot in his mouth, well, Wen Qing wasn’t the smoothest individual either and rather liked having someone she could get snippy with. Plus, Wei Wuxian still cared about him and would want to see him. But he was also the master of a Great Sect and her family, small as it was now, had been his sworn enemy.

“I’m not sure that would be wise,” she said. “We’ve already been seen together. Someone might recognize us.”

“Only because we’re known here. If we were somewhere else, I would do it. I would buy more than a couple combs for you."

Wen Qing stopped picking at her food and looked at him. There was that expression again, the hopeful puppy one she enjoyed but so often turned away from. She hated saying ‘no’ when he made that face.

So she said ‘yes’ for a change.

‘This is terribly selfish,’ she thought as they walked. Despite saying he shouldn’t spend more money earlier, he bought a rather large amount of baozi, and a couple hair ribbons in neutral tones (he must have noticed her frayed edges, damn him for being observant), ginger and dried peppercorns for her family and chili paste that was clearly for Wei Wuxian, and a very nice kitchen knife. He tested it on his thumb for her, like an idiot, and she used just a bit of her spiritual energy to heal the cut for him, ignoring the small gasp he let out when she took his hand.

(The contact wasn’t long enough, for all it seemed to burn them both. But he took her healing easily and she has no cause to worry about the golden core’s function, and no cause to keep holding on to him.)

He pressed all these items into her hands and she didn’t protest at all. She should, a token refusal for politeness’s sake or a real refusal because this was foolish of him and she couldn’t repay this kindness. But she thought of how well her family would eat tonight, between the fresh vegetables she sent with Wen Ning and these baozi. She didn’t dare take a chance that he would accept a refusal and take it all back.

She carried the baozi in a wooden box while Jiang Wanyin walked beside her, eyes straight ahead and hand on his sword like he was ignoring the people on the street and daring them to say something, all at once. Wen Qing had seen Wen Ruohan and his sons manage it but Jiang Wanyin was too self-conscious to pull it off quite yet. But then, their circumstances were different. Jiang Wanyin’s position was still precarious in many ways, and the Wens of her youth were unquestioned masters of Qishan.

Well. Things changed. Perhaps someday, Jiang Wanyin could walk down the street with a young lady and be confident about it. Wen Qing felt a pang that that young lady would not be her.

Lost in thought, she barely noticed when they reached the edge of town and kept going. Jiang Wanyin was still beside her and it seemed, perhaps not natural but certainly pleasant to feel his stormy presence and see the violet of his robes out of the corner of her eye.

“I shouldn’t go much further,” he finally said. They were at the foot of the Burial Mounds, within sight of the dark forest and the walls.

“You let me walk all this way without thanking you?” Wen Qing set the container of baozi down and bowed. “I want to repay you for this kindness, Jiang-zongzhu. I will find a way.”

“I told you I don’t want repayment,” he said, putting his hands under her elbows to stop her bow from sinking deeper. “We are even and this changes nothing.”

“This is money you weren’t planning to spend. Money that should go back to your sect.”

“My sect is fine and that money was my own!” He stepped closer, forcing her to straighten or hold her bow with her arms pressed against his chest. She chose to straighten her back. “You don’t owe me for this. I wanted to- to check on Wei Wuxian. For A-jie’s sake.”

“And yet you won’t come to see him?”

They stood for a moment, Jiang Wanyin’s hands still on her arms, almost as close as that day in the teahouse when they’d both been chasing Wei Wuxian. She glared up at him in challenge and started to pull her arms away, but he held her fast.

“I can’t. But… I’m not ready for you to go,” he said, and he pulled. She stumbled, two jerky steps, into the circle of his arms.

“Jiang-zongzhu,” she started, but her voice trailed off. He was warm and- well, not soft, but his muscles were invitingly firm under his robes. While she contemplated the feel of his chest and the silk of his robes (both very nice and she wanted to spend an hour or two running her hands over them), he wrapped his arms around her.

She was caught. She should have been angry, alarmed. He was the leader of a Great Sect, a danger to her family, and even a normal man could be dangerous to a woman alone. But she was hardly helpless and he had spent his money on them and he didn’t feel dangerous, not now.

‘It’s just a hug,’ she told herself. It was extremely inappropriate, with them being unrelated and unmarried, and even though she was still annoyed (he was infuriating! And infuriatingly inviting), she leaned into it anyway. There was something nice about being held close, secure in the cradle of his arms, hidden from the world by his expensive silks.

“A kiss,” he said, shattering the quiet of forest. She looked up at him. It wasn’t a good angle on him, mostly cheek and sideburn and nostril, but that didn’t calm her wild thoughts at all.

He didn’t look down at her or loosen his hold, and indeed he tightened his grip until she could feel Zidian digging into her shoulder. “What if I said a kiss would make us even?”

Her first response was a resounding ‘Yes!’ Their bodies were pressed together, his arms holding her tight, and she could see his lips, tempting and moist where he licked them in nervousness. A kiss seemed like a natural extension of their embrace.

But she had never traded affection for anything. Not goods, not money, not position, not even safety for her family. ‘I’m not that kind of woman,’ she wanted to say, needed him to know.

She could be, though, if it meant having Jiang Wanyin’s lips on her.

But she took too long thinking about it, and he loosened his hold and started to pull away. “Nevermind,” he snapped. “It was just a whim. I’m not so desperate that I can’t get a woman without bribing her with gifts!”

“I didn’t say anything,” Wen Qing said as she grabbed his sleeve. “And I’m not the sort of woman who can be bribed with gifts. Make no mistake about that! When I kiss you, it will be-.”

She was cut off by the crash of his lips against hers. One of his hands grabbed her arm. As if she would try to escape! She let him deepen the kiss, all her hesitation fleeing in her eagerness to have him. She put one arm about his shoulders, and he slipped his other arm around her waist, still holding tight with his other hand as he kissed her.

He tasted of the tea they’d had with their meal, and he held her too tightly and kissed like he was trying to devour her, all tooth and searching tongue. She should have shook him off, demanded he be more gentlemanly.

Instead, she said, “Don’t bite,” nearly breathless. She let him back her against a tree and press himself to her body, and the one harsh kiss softened and became many.

These kisses were not as frantic, but were still demanding, deep and wet. His breath was burning hot against her skin, his body firm under her hands. He had one thigh between her legs and she could feel everything. These kisses? These, she wanted more of.

Why shouldn’t she have this? What good was maintaining her virtue? Making a good marriage would never happen now, and she no longer needed to keep herself chaste as a bargaining chip for her family.

Ah, but he looked down on her family, didn’t he? Would she have any self-respect left if she let Jiang Wanyin touch her? She hoped so, hoped that his small kindness today meant that he wasn’t so bitter.

But did she have any right to touch him, knowing what she did about his golden core?

She flinched, and he loosened his hold on her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking away from her. “I shouldn’t have done that. I know you’re a respectable lady.”

“I… Even respectable ladies have wants,” she confessed. “I just… I have to get back soon. And this isn’t the sort of thing I want to do under a dead tree.”

Hope blossomed in his face, a smile on his kiss-dark lips, and he touched her cheek with more gentleness than he’d shown since before the war. “Agreed. And… I liked spending the afternoon with you, Wen-guniang. I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.” His tone suggested that had been a possibility, and she found she didn’t want that, either.

She returned to the settlement shortly after, with the box of baozi and an agreement to meet again in ten days. Wen Ning leapt to his feet with a happy “Jie!” when he saw her. Her family gathered around her all talking at once.

“Qing-guniang, what’s all this?”

“I got good deals on some things,” she started to explain, and because the truth was easier than another lie she admitted, “Wei Wuxian’s martial brother sent some, but be quiet about it if you’re in town. He still can’t be known to help us.”

Wei Wuxian’s head peeked over the others’ shoulders as he joined them, drawn out of his cave by the commotion. “Jiang Cheng? Really? What did you say to him to get him to send something over?!”

Wen Qing just smiled at him, and started distributing her acquisitions.

~Notes~

So yeah, at the beginning I mentioned this had a note on the fic concepts, so here it is. Be grateful it's at the end; it was at the beginning at one point.  

This has been kicking around my harddrive for a while in various drafts and levels of completion, and I decided to just wrap it up and start posting it. Right now, I estimate it at 4 chapters. Please do not expect the chapters to be a consistent length; they're looking to be very different.

The concept is to let Wen Qing be the one being taken care of for a change, and to let Jiang Cheng spoil someone he cares about (I believe my initial thought was something like "Jiang Cheng wants to be Wen Qing's sugar daddy but he is not daddy enough at this point").

And I love and firmly believe that Jiang Cheng would go down on a partner and enjoy it, I don't think he could have started out that way. He's in essence a spoiled rich kid with no experience with women, he's going to start off as a stumbling, selfish lover. He has to learn about possibilities, and that's going to involve some fumbling first. And I also love confident and commanding-in-the-bedroom Wen Qing but I don't think she would have much opportunity for that experience in canon. I also very much want Jiang Cheng to support Wei Wuxian in secret ('cause during my first Untamed watching, I thought he was sneaking Wei Wuxian supplies or money during the Burial Mounds exile), for Wen Qing to follow-up on her miraculous and devastating secret surgery (like seriously, she never tried to sense his qi or anything after, not once?! And then some posts floated by my Tumblr dash- iirc, winepresswrath is a ringleader but you can find them kicking around i’m sure- that I was not the only one who thought things like this and I knew I had to do it, at least a little), and for Jiang Cheng to dress Wen Qing up. So I mulled those thoughts for a bit and eventually a couple snippets came to me, and I attempted to make them into a story.

And then I was an idiot and challenged myself to 1) not use any scientific or 'vulgar' terminology in the sex scenes but also not use too much purple prose, no Jiang sect color puns intended at this time, and 2) end it so that the story is, in some way, canon compliant. This is a side moment, something Wei Wuxian knows nothing about and therefore canon theoretically continues uninterrupted. Of course, if you prefer a future where Wen Qing develops the sexual confidence we all know she has in her and rides Jiang Cheng to a different and possibly better fate, please think of that instead (and wish me luck on the idea I had for a canon-divergence sequel).

Next Chapter

[ellieloop]

A Long Way To Go. Pt. 1

This is just me trying out writing for Jujutsu Kaisen. I plan on making this a series, if you are interested. As English is not my first language, there will be a lot of grammatical and just overall mistakes. I would really like for your feedback on this fic and ways on how I can improve myself! :) 

This fic takes place about a year before the start of the anime (or Introduction Arc)

_____________________________________________________________

The Tokyo sky had been sunny just a moment ago. Now it was overcome with dark clouds, the atmosphere ominous. 

You had always had “friends” that most couldn’t see. Your parents would brush it off as the imaginative mind of a child. When you continued to see these creatures well into your young adulthood though, well, your parents didn’t know what to think. And neither did you.

You ran as fast as you could, legs already worn out and burning. The four-legged curse was quickly catching up. You didn’t dare look behind for you were scared of what you might see. Starting to run out of stamina, you needed to come up with some kind of an escape plan. All the options that went thought your mind didn’t seem promising, and you just wanted to give up. When you entered a forested area with a large building complex, you decided to make a leap of faith and ask help from there. 

With both yourself and the curse inside the territory, both of you stopped. The monstrous being seemed intimidated and froze in place. You examined the curse and wondered about its behavior. The curse regained its composure and started to come at you once again. You thought, “is this really it? I haven’t even lived properly.” In one last attempt to defend yourself, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to block the impact with your palms. To your surprise, when you opened your eyes, the creature flew back several meters. The impact had pushed you to the ground where you were now wondering about what just happened

A male voice behind you spoke.

“What’s all this commotion?” 

You turned around on the ground and stared at the man. He was tall and wore a blindfold, so getting an eye contact was out of the question. Even if you wanted to explain the situation, you couldn’t. You had no idea what was going on. The man stepped closer to you and crouched down.

“How did you get in here?” he asked. 

“I ran inside while escaping from this th-,” you stated when a loud crash occurred. You turned around to see that the curse that had been following you was now blown to pieces. You looked back at the man’s direction. His blindfold was now removed from his eyes. 

You drowned in them as soon as you saw them. Beautiful vibrant blue eyes which held in it the sky and the universe. You subconsciously reached your arm out towards the man’s face and rested it on his cheek, gazing into his ethereal eyes. Suddenly foreign memories flooded your brain.

You saw a tall young man with dark hair in a bun and a short-haired woman with the man who was in front of you. They were dressed in similar clothing, sitting in a classroom, laughing and spending time together. This was just a fragment of what you were presented with during this short time. 

The man in front of you froze in place as he stared back at you. He hasn’t felt like that before. The constant flow of cursed energy pouring into him from you was keeping him from moving or saying anything. 

Finally you broke the skin-to-skin contact with him as you felt overwhelmed with the information presented to you. Mind almost as blank as it was full, you sat further back on the ground. The blue-eyed man regained his composure and spoke.

“Let’s get you inside, shall we?” he half proposed, half ordered, “I’m Gojo Satoru, by the way.”

“L/N F/N,” you stated shortly and abruptly.

_____________________________________________________________

You stood in a large empty room near the doorway. The man who presented himself as Gojo Satoru was speaking with another man. He was well built and had glasses. “What is it about these people hiding their eyes,” you thought to yourself. 

Gojo called you over to them. You made your way there and bowed to the unknown man while introducing yourself.

“Do you know where you are?” the man asked. 

You shook your head. 

The man explained. “This place is called Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College. Here we teach Jujutsu Sorcerers everything they need to know about curses and how to exorcise them. The thing that was chasing you was a curse. But this wasn’t the first time you saw one, was it?”

“This was my first time seeing one so big and aggressive. They usually just mind their own business,” you found it in you to answer. In fact this was the first time ever a curse even batted an eye on you. Seeing them around the school and graveyard was nothing new to you, but they always kept to themselves. That’s why you weren’t worried about them. Until now.

“My name is Masamichi Yaga and I am the principal of this school,” the man spoke. “You have two options before you right now. Either join the school to learn Jujutsu and become a great sorcerer or return to your usual day-to-day life. I’ll warn you, though. The curses will keep coming for you as your cursed energy has started to increase. Neither you nor the people close to you will be safe. And then it’s the responsibility of my students to take care of this threat.”

Well, that sounded more like a threat than a proposal of options, you thought. After a while of silence you spoke. “My life as it is right now doesn’t hold any value, not to me or to anyone else. I don’t know how to make myself useful, or what my dreams and desires are. But this seems like a good opportunity to finally focus my life on something that matters.” 

Masamichi Yaga looked at you for a bit, thinking to himself. “Good answer. Know that you will be risking your life and the lives of others every day. It’s okay if your aim changes, but don’t stray from the path you’ve chosen. Satoru, show Y/N to her room and explain everything about the security and other important stuff.”

Gojo nodded and motioned you to move with him. You were still taking in everything that principal Yaga was saying. Quietly thanking him, you went with Gojo. Is this really the change that you deserved, you thought to yourself. Maybe it was the change you needed.

[unloved-cadillac]

Leather Jackets and Glasses

Y/n L/n, the leader of the notorious gang called The Scouts. Placed in Rose high, Y/n is in her senior year but things take a turn when she starts getting interested in a certain boy named, Levi Ackerman. Follow the journey of heartbreak, betrayal and love between two people who were destined to be together.   

CHAPTER ONE:

There’s always someone out there made for everyone. This is something i highly believe in. Every person has their person. A boy could have had this childhood friend, who later in life turned out to be more than that. The girl who kissed her best friend because she had never had her first kiss and wanted to get it over with, only for her best friend to pull her closer and kiss her harder. Everyone had that someone. it was only a matter of time before we all found them. But sometimes, its not always that easy. Things happen that are out of your control. You won’t speak to them for long periods of time, bad fights, leaving. And this almost always happens before you get together. That’s the bad part. But that’s the wake up call to tell you that “hey. I care for this person more than myself. I need them. I can’t loose them”.

I loved the idea of love. But I never spoke on it. It made me seem weak and soft and, that’s something i did not want a GANG to know. But i have had my fair share of boyfriends, no love just a quick fuck here and there but there was one boy who captured my heart without even trying. He did so effortlessly you would think he was the biggest player out there. But no. That was just who Levi Ackerman was. 

It all began in my senior year of high school. The year had just started and i had nothing to be afraid of. My gang, The Scouts, were the notorious gang of Rose. I was their leader, mostly because my father was the main leader of The Scouts. He was The Godfather. I’d like to say that I did fairly well in school, but not A plus material, I just wanted to graduate and get outta there. This year was mostly about forming new relationships, clearing the air to certain people, and just making amends. But some people also wanted to confess to their someone. I dont want to brag or anything, but i had a lot of people wanting to be with me. Boys would try their luck and i only gave a few chances to a few people, and well, it never turned out good, mostly because my dad found something wrong with them, wanted them to join the gang or they were too scared to take things further. 

I loved the gang. They were my family. And plus I could get anything I wanted. I was a princess. In my senior I made a promise to myself that I would not date. Anyone. No matter who much they begged. Because when I hit 17, my life in the gang became a whole lot dangerous. Shootouts would occur at my house, I would get kidnapped and sometimes they would use my friends to threaten me. It was horrible to say the least. And I could ony imagine what they would do if i had a special someone. God. I would not want my someone to have this life. As great as it is material wise, shit gets serious in a split second. My dad had warned me about it. He said that the only way i would get involved with someone is if he had picked them. And naturally i told him, i just wouldnt get a boyfriend, much to his displeasure. 

Of course, my school had heard about the little, mishaps my gang had endured and that resulted in me having this huge reputation in school. I was labelled as: dangerous. I’m not gonna lie to you and say that I didnt get into fights, or break some bitches nose because they offended me. I was still a gangster, fighting is in my blood. I got suspended. A lot. And apparently, that attracted Levi. 

I had seen him around town and school. He would always be in the cafe around the corner of Trost. I knew that because my brother owned that cafe. Marco had nothing to do with the gang. He wasn’t my father’s child so my dad wasn’t so concerned about him. He was from my mothers first marriage, but that never stopped us from being brother and sister. My mother left me after three years and went back to Marco’ father.

Levi was one of the smartest people at school. Always getting awards but he never seemed to go for the functions. He had kept to himself most of the time. He had his close friends. To name them there was Farlan(his brother), Isabel(Farlan’s girlfriend),Hange(the crazy science geek) and Erwin, the jock.

The first time I actually had spoken to Levi was in Physics. I was running late because I was caught up in beating someone up at the back of the school for reasons I shall not say. I ran into the classroom, out of breathe. Everyone looked at me. Some snickered but when I shot them a quick glare, they shut up.

-Ah Ms L/n. How nice of you to join us.

My professor told me, voice laced with sarcasm.

-uh..sorry. I was busy..lost track of time.

I explained. I winced all of a sudden when I looked at my knuckles. Bleeding. Of course. But I kept that hand behind my back.

-hm. Get to a seat.

He said a bit irritated. I walked away to find one and the only one that was available was the last one by the window. I sat down and realized that..I didn’t bring my books. I cursed myself then I turned to my left and saw a boy sitting there taking notes. He seemed really into his work though, but shit, I needed something to write on.

-hey.

I say to capture his attention. He stops writing and slowly looks towards me. He seems really...shy?

-can I borrow a page? And pencil?

I ask him. He widens his eyes and quickly tears a page from his book and digs in his pencil case for a pencil. He finds one and hands me the objects.

-thanks,man.

He simply nods, a faint blush forming on his cheeks but I couldn’t really see it because he put his head down and his long ass bangs hid most of his face. I take a second to observe him. A simple t-shirt, black jeans with converse and cute pair of glasses. His hair was sort of, jet black. I smirk. I knew him. He was one of those top students.

-alright. I’m gonna pass out your tests.

My professor suddenly says. “Fuck”, I mentally curse. I hated physics. I never got the gist of it. I only knew those Newton’s Laws. But I knew that wasn’t enough. He walks around passing papers and comes to me. He looks at my paper, fucking ‘scoffs’, and hands me my paper. A 57. That’s what I got. I didn’t think it was that bad, but this teacher is makingit seem as if the world had just caught on fire and its pissing me off. Looks like someone’s car is getting wrecked today.

-Levi, well done. Keep it up.

I hear him say to the boy. Ah. Levi. That was his name. I reach over and see his mark. 97. Goddamn. He was smart smart.

-a 97? Holy fuck. I could never.

I tell him. He looks at me, kinda stunned. I must admit, if he took off those glasses, it would be one of those scenes in those shitty teen movies where the nerd removes their glasses to reveal they look like a model. But he still looks cute. I looked at him tilting my head to the side.

-what?

I ask him. He shakes his head and looks back down. What a strange one. Suddenly I flinch and look at my bruised knuckles. Fuck they were bleeding. I pat down my pockets on my jeans and check my inside pocket of my leather jacket. How marvelous. I didn’t bring a handkerchief. So I just hold the bruise down to stop the bleeding. Maybe I can make it 45 minutes. All of a sudden I see a handkerchief next to my arm. I look at it, confused, but I take it anyway. I look at Levi. He has a smile, tiny smile. Yeah, he gave me it.

-Thank you.

I tell him. I saw him visibly tense but he looks at me and smiles. I felt...warm. What was this feeling? It’s weird. I have never experienced this before. I don’t know if I want to throw this feeling away or like it. But I promised myself that I wouldn’t get involved with anyone. I may be an asshole, but I would NEVER want anyone to join a gang. Especially my person.

Throughout the day I kept my eye on Levi. I don’t know why I did, but it was just something I found myself doing. The gang and I were chilling on the stands by the football field.

-Ugh! I just want school to finish already! I can’t take it anymore.

Eren says. He was fairly new to the gang, after I found him beating up a kid in an alleyway I recruited him. He’s super hyper and gets worked up easily so he was a good asset to us.

-and I can’t take you complaining anymore.

Jean shoots back. Jean and Eren almost never got along. But I kept them in line.

-both of you shut up.

My right hand woman says. Mikasa. She matched me in strength, but she never dared put me off. We all knew that Jean had a crush on Mikasa, but he never had the balls to say anything. I ignored them and kept my eyes on the boy on the first stand. He was with Hange and Isabel, I take it he was watching Erwin and Farlan train.

-what do you say, Y/n?

Eren asks me. I look at him after a while.

-say what?

I ask.

-you seem to be staring an awful lot lately. Who caught our oh so powerful leader’s eyes?

Eren hops down to where I’m sitting.

-shut up.

I tell him and look back at the field. Eren follows my eyes.

-oh is it Erwin? I’m not gonna lie, he is hot.

-Gay much, Eren?

Jean says as he sits next to me.

-fuck off, horse face.

I don’t care for their conversation and sneak glances at Levi. He seems to be quiet most of the time, since Isabel and Hange talk his ears off. I feel my pocket and I feel the handkerchief. I’m not giving it back. It’s mine now. I seem to be daydreaming again because Jean keeps talking to me.

-what do you want?

I ask him harshly.

-I just want to know if you’re going to homecoming next month.

I scoff and turn my face back to the field.

-of course I am. There’s a lot of things I want to ruin on that night. Oh and by the way guys, home time I want to key my physics teacher’s car. He’s been acting like a bitch and I want to teach him a lesson.

Jean and Eren scream,” HELL YEAH!”, and that caused some people to look at us. That good for that because I caught Levi’s attention. He turns and looks at me. I smile and wink at him. He widens his eyes and turns around. I love fucking around with him.

Hometime rolls in and we go out to the car park and look for my teacher’s car. Luckily, the son of a bitch didn’t park where the cameras were so I pull out my key and so did the others and run it down the bonnet of the car. I run it through the driver’s door moving it to the back. Mikasa took the boot and the boys took the roof and passenger side. After our masterpiece we heard:

-HEY YOU BRATS! STOP THAT.

My physics teacher yells. We look and laugh and made a run for it. We ran to our bikes and took off. Laughing. We drove past the gate and everyone was cheering for us as well. I saw Levi. I once again winked at him and rode away. “Maybe I should mess around with him. What could go wrong?”

Little did I know, a whole lot would go wrong.

Chapter Two