#◜ﾟ✧.— v. darkness will hide us then smile brightly (main).

[urabitea]

       OCHAKO BEGS TO differ. “I don`t know, Bakugou-kun. Your breath definitely has an interesting scent to it,” in a display of concern, she rubbed her hand beneath her chin, deep in thought, “Some might say it`s so strong, it can make people cry.” It was almost arrogant how she ignored his threat in favor of pondering over her friend ( or, at least, someone she deemed as a friend ) &. his poor hygiene practices.

@ofiignition //  continued from ✧.

[diaco1968]

The wandering prince of the outcasts

Fantasy au

Exiled prince Shoto todoroki x reader

Also, smut

Warning! A little smut/ v sex, passive tiny bit of angst, porn with too much plot? XD I just get carried away with fantasy au.

Sprinting out of the village gates with a sharp turn off the main path to shake off your pursuers you had reached a steep slope, immediately realising why there was no path leading this way. In front of you was a giant deep pit and now you couldn't stop running. "Oh crap!" You screamed as you braced yourself to fall down the deep pit of death in front of you. But you didn't, your legs wobbled as you slipped on something and fell on your butt, sliding over the pit and down the slope the rest of the way. You came to a halt on the even ground, heart still beating rapidly in your chest and panting heavily. Your hands only now felt the coldness under you making you look down in awe at the ground underneath you and the path you just slid down on. 'Ice?...' your jaw hung open but the sound of someone clearing their throat right from over you snapped you back to yourself and you whipped back around to look at the source "Ehem. Are you alright?" You saw a hand in your face urging you to accept the help to get up. Your eyes moved up and landed on his face. Oddly satisfying symmetrical two colored hair. And mesmerising eyes. Fair skin, except for a burnt patch around his one sharp blue eye. Definitely not from around here or a regular wanderer. "I'm great." You slowly reached up, smiling sheepishly as you took his hand and stood up "I, um... was that somehow, you?" You pointed back at the ice behind you. "What?" He said unfazed as he glanced behind you before locking eyes with yours again. "The ice that just saved... me...?" You turned around and trailed off. It as all gone. The thick ice had disappeared with just a trail of glistening wet grass. "What?!" You looked at him seriously "I know what I saw! I slipped on a layer of ice that appeared out of nowhere! Now if that is something you need to hide, it's none of my business. I'll keep your secret." You huffed crossing your arms over your chest as you narrowed your eyes at him. "I don't know what you're talking about. But Please do be more careful next time." He replied looking at you amused. "I will. Thanks for saving my life." You grumbled, kind of disappointed as you turned around and walked away from him. You were definitely sure you didn't just imagine that. You had thought you were in for a treat by meeting a mysterious wizard or something, but well, denying he just used magic was logically how it should've turned out. People weren't kind to wizards and the fact that he had it in his heart to save you from inevitable death even though it wasn't any of his concern, had you feeling grateful anyway.

"You're welcome." He said quietly as you walked away out of earshot a half amused smile still on his face. The fact that you just accepted his power and then accepted him denying it without pushing him, had caught his interest. He started walking again and pulled the reigns lightly once before letting go so the white stallion followed him as well.

You were reunited with your bunch at a nearby inn, Kaminari apologizing profusely for getting you in such a mess back in the village. You had brushed him off with a light pat on the shoulder and now you were sitting at one of the tables with him, Krishima and Sero drinking and eating the day's loot away while you waited for Bakugou to join you. A curious bunch. You had met them through Kirishima, when you've been wandering around alone one night and offered the only piece of food you had to a lonely looking dragon that didn't roast you on sight. Much to your surprise he transformed into a bubbly red headed boy right in front of your eyes and despite your protests led you away to his pals. Dragged you by the hand more like. And well a simple 'can we keep her!?' And a bunch of yelling Bakugou later, you found yourself travelling with these guys. Occasionally splitting up to do your own things when you got to a town or a village and then meeting back up somewhere and moving on. A curious bunch indeed.

The familiar booming sound of the ash blonde malre reached you over the sound of the chatter, way before he even entered the inn himself. "Oh there he is!... and... who's that?" Kirishima perked up happily but immediately his expression changed to concerned. You turned your head towards the entrance and sure enough Bakugou was dragging someone in yelling something about being spied on. Low and behold the person he dragged in was no other than the ice boy who just saved you earlier. 'Definitely not a chance of keeping this one.' You thought to yourself as you glanced at Kirishima's defensive expression. He was close with Bakugou and they were for objective reasons... wanted dead or alive. It didn't help that the wandering ice boy, despite obvious efforts at disguise, a brand new traveller's cloak, looked like royalty... or at least some sort of authority. You labled him off as some sort of noble son in his rebel stage of life. "Unhand me this instance! You were threatening a dog for barking at you and I was just watching." The boy objected and you snorted totally seeing Bakugou doing that. You decided to pay him back for saving your life earlier so you stood up and walked towards them "oh my! Is that really you?! What would your father say?" You reached them walking past Bakugou who was now silent looking at you quizzically and gave the boy a light half hug, ripping Bakugou's hand off of his shoulder in the process "don't get me wrong I do miss you! But you are so far away from home." You pulled back and He looked equally as confused as Bakugou, only way less violent and way more calm. You huffed glaring at Bakugou "is that a way to treat my cousin?" He narrowed his eyes at you "your cousin?! He looks like he just came straight out of the royal castle!" Shoto looked surprided at that looking down at his attire and murmuring to himself more so than anything "I do?..." you laughed grabbing the boy's shoulder and started leading him out "he just doesn't know what to wear and where to wear it to. I don't look like royalty to you, do I? My cousin definitely isn't either." Bakugou wasn't too convinced but let you two walk away with a grumpy growl.

Once outside you turned the corner slipping behind the inn with him and a safe distance away from any ears in hearing range, you let him go "of all the people you could randomly piss off, it had to be Bakugou?" You chuckled as he fixed his clothes where Bakugou had crumbled in his fist. "He told a dog, and I qoute, 'you think you are better than me?!' Then he demanded that the dog fight him if it dared when he got barked at..." he deadpanned looking at you. "Yeah that sounds about right." You chuckled looking at him kindly, making a little smile cross his lips. "Alright I'm (y/n) and as my 'cousin', I think I should know your name too." His smile wore off immediately and he looked a bit uneasy making you soften up a bit "look, you don't look like you belong out here on your own. I just want to help. Consider it pay back for saving my life?" He looked up at you wondering why you took 'magic' so lightly. "Shoto, you can call me Shoto." You smiled at him brightly "Alright Shoto, we're go-" you were interrupted at the loud sounds of commotion coming from the direction of the inn. You gestured for him to be quiet as you peeked around the corner to see what was going on. As usual it was Bakugou yelling but this time there were a bunch of people clad in dark cloaks backing him out of the inn along with Kirishima. The moment one of them shot a big blue ball of fire at the two, Kirishima transformed into a dragon, blocking it and flew the both of them away, getting chased by a couple of the cloaked forms who transformed into winged creatures and persued. From the other side you could see Sero and Kaminari hopping on their horses and each rode off in a different direction trying to lose their own pursuers who were hot on their trails.

You stepped out of your cover and you were immediately stopped by one of the cloaked ones smirking down at you with a crooked smirk over chapped lips, topped off with a scar on one side. He raised his hand towards you to grab your face. You gasped in fear but the hand in front you burst into flames and as the guy started howling in pain Shoto grabbed you from behind, whistling his horse over, hopping on and pulled you on as well spurring the giant beast, who reared loudly before galloping inside the forest.

He hadn't paid much attention when pulling you on the horse and now you were draped over his lap on your stomach trying not to throw up from all the movements of the horse. "Okay okay! We lost them! I need to get off!" Shoto glanced down at you blushing as you clutched his thigh to steady yourself. He pulled the reigns and the horse came to a halt with a little skid. You immediately pushing yourself out of his lap and off his horse before he could help you, turning towards the ground to dry heave. He hopped off next to you "I'm so sorry, it was just too dangerous..." you raised your hand to stop him as you caught your breath. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he waited for you.

"Ice and fire..." you whispered. He could feel the cold sweat starting to form on his back. "The power of ice and fire!" You jumped to your feet and looked at him with wide eyes. He raised his hands slowly to calm you down "no, no, listen-"

"You are the cursed prince!"

He winced at the name turning his head to the side "well shit... I mean you no harm- mh!?" With the sharp pain on his chest he looked at you only to find you in his face, poking your finger in his chest accusingly "why didn't you say so!"

"...excuse me?" He inquired tilting his head to the side confused once again. "This is the part you run away, usually screaming, scared for your life." You looked at him mouth gaping "what are you talking about?! We've been looking for you everywhere!"

The flames danced tauntingly as you two stared each other down, each from one side of the bonefire. A bonefire you had pestered him to make using his own fire cause it was freezing cold. "Why would you be looking for me?" He urged on. You took in his form. Sitting up, back straight as a stick and legs folded underneath him neatly. "What do you mean? You are the lost prince!" You insisted making him glare at you. "I am exiled. I am cursed. What do you want from me?" You sighed hugging your knees tightly to your chest resting your chin on them wondering if he really didn't know. "You haven't been back home in a long time, have you?" You asked quietly and he softened up only a little. You continued without a reply "the 'king'," you scoffed "steals, tortures and kills. No one is allowed to stand in his way... he rules with an iron fist. And no one is safe. You are the rightful ki-"

"Stop. I'm a curse. I hurt people around me. Hell I even hurt myself." He vaguely gestured at his burnt face. "I am no one's king." He said firmly looking away from the fire. You watched him shocked at the hateful tone in his voice as he spoke of himself. "I'm a monster. If I were you, I'd leave me be as soon as I could." He got to his feet and stepped away from the fire and you to lie down on the flat floor with his back to you a little ways away. You watched his back for a while before staring into the undying flames, drowning yourself in your own thoughts. Anxious about what might've happend to your friends.

He woke up to the sound of struggle. It was silent, just the sound of something dragging and hitting on the ground of the forest behind him. He sat up and turned around. His eyes locked on a dark cloaked figure standing over what he suddenly realised was your struggling figure, kicking your feet and gasping dryly with a raspy voice. He shot to his feet, fire coming to life in the palm of his hand as he closed the distance between himself and the man and slammed his other hand, covered in a hard layer of ice in the intruders side. He jumped shouting in pain and staggering away only to be stopped by the flaming hand inches away from his face "let her go!"

"You are supposed to be dead!" The guy yelled back angry, and Shoto burned his shoulder as he grabbed onto it. "I said, let her go!" The man yelled in pain and tried to move away. "You get people around you killed. You kill them. Look at her! She is like this cause she was with you!" You clawed at the vine that had sprouted right underneath your head and was wrapped snugly around your neck, tightening ever so slowly. "Don't listen to him!" You managed only a quiet wheeze. "Shut up wench! Come with me and she'll live." Shoto looked clearly torn between listening to him or to you. He didn't know what to do. His head was racing as he lowered his hand from the guys face, the flames dying out slowly. "NO!" you wriggled gasping for air, and it received you a light kick to the legs "quiet! That's it boy. Don't struggle." The man reached out to grab him.

Shoto knew who these guys were. The secret puppets of the king who did his dirty work for him in the dark. Flashbacks of the day he had fled death by what could only be considered a miracle, flooded his mind and before he could stop himself his right hand slashed at the man, freezing him to the ground in an instant. He stared at the frozen man for a second but the sound of your quiet wheezes as your legs seized their kicking and your eyes rolled back in your head brought him to his senses. Hyperventilating as he dropped to his knees next to your head he tried ripping the vines off of you to no avail. "Oh fuck! What do I do?! (Y/n)! Please! I can't!..." he raised his shaky left hand grabbing the vine at where it's root had sprouted out of the ground. He had no choice. He couldn't watch you die... but what if he was the reason you would die? What if he burned you?... he grit his teeth and very carefully set his hand on fire. The vine started to burn off and released you of it's hold as you gasped for air, coughing and turning on your side. He sat back from you, watching you worried. It took you a while to catch your breath, staring at the ground as your vision unblurred. You took in a big gulp of air letting it out and sighing as your hand raised to rub at your sore neck. That's when Shoto couldn't keep quiet anymore "did I burn you?! I'm so sorry! I just couldn't do anything else! You are right to hate me, it's all my fault! I will leav-" you crawled over to him and despite him jerking away from you, your hand reached out and cupped his still warm cheek carefully "shhhh! I'm alright Shoto! You saved me! Again!" You laughed, your eyes betraying your expression, tears pricking the corners, and pulled him close, hugging his head to your chest. He resisted at first muscles tense as dry wood. "None of this is your fault! He was here for me, you just happened to be an extra treat. He would've killed me anyway if not for you!" Your fingers ran through his hair, smoothing it out, feeling him calm down and after a minute or so slowly slump down onto you when he stopped struggling against your hold.

It's been so long since he had last felt the safety and warmth of another's embrace, he just couldn't help nuzzling into you, not caring about the awkward way you two were positioned.

Your eyes moved from Shoto's head to the frozen statue standing just over the two of you, glaring at it hatefully as if he could ever see anything again.

Neither of you could sleep again after that so you decided to lead him to the place you and your little gang of misfits usually met up when seperated, a little hidden cave somewhere deep in the forest. In the way you decided to tell him why you guys were wanted, and hunted; how you were a group considered as dangerous to the throne and how you have decided to look for the lost runaway heir to help him get back in power. He still wasn't too on board with this part of your plan but your sweet talking had managed to get the rough edge off his nerves when he talked about his power. You convinced him, or it seemed so that you did, that for the most part he was in control of his 'powers', you refused to use the word curse. You told him If he sometimes lost control of it was because he had been suppressing it for too long. He needed to accept it as part of himself. He agreed but you couldn't tell if just to make you stop talking about him or genuinely agreed. You told him how there were people, like you, like Bakugou, like Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero and so many others who were born different, like Shoto. How you were all shunned and abused for it and how Shoto would be your saviour. He had asked about you, and you showed him your neck. Healed with no sign of any injury ever received wether bruise or burn. He looked at you in awe for a long time and you caught him stealing curious glances at you.

It was a long ride, full of talk, about him, about you, and by the time you reached the cave half a day later, you found yourself to have grown very close with Shoto.

When you got to the cave, much to your concern, there was no one there. But you decided to give it a little bit of time before getting too worried. You cleaned up around the inside of the cave to make it inhabitable for a while and Shoto tied his horse somewhere close by, making sure it had enough room to rest and eat, removing his saddle and brushing the dust off of it. He brought his saddle inside the cave setting it somewhere in a corner, eyes still watching you curiously. "We need wood for the fire." You said suddenly as you recreated the place for the bone fire, setting little stones back in the place of the old ones. "I'm going to go get some. You stay here and rest." You suggested, wiping your hands on your long skirt, heading out, not liking the idea of having to sit around in the darkness of the cave. "I'll come." he followed you and you turned to shoot him a smile.

The two of you wandered the woods nearby the cave and gathered wood and a bunch of edible fruits and berries. He was silent for most of the walk but he finally decided to voice his thoughts. The one that was bugging him since earlier. "Can you take away any kind of scar?" He blurted out and you paused to look up at him from where you were kneeling to pick berries. You watched him for a little while in silence, him fidgeting uncharacteristically under your gaze as he stared intently at the ground beneath his feet. You stood up and walked up to him his eyes unmoving. You cupped his left cheek softly, stroking your thumb over the burned skin. His eyes slowly moved up from the ground to yours, you smiled kindly at him looking apologetic "no, I can't do anything about old injuries." He sighed and looked to the side "pity." You turned his face back towards you "maybe, but I like it. It makes you, you." You leaned in and watched his eyes grow ever bigger before shutting tight as you traced your lips on the old scar right under his eye, kissing it gently and smiling at him when you pulled away. His face was almost matching his hair color now and his heart hammered against his chest rapidly. You giggled and he couldn't help himself. He leaned in pressing his lips onto yours firmly.

You froze in shock blushing furiously. And he pulled away after a few seconds a stuttering mess. "I'm so s-sorry! I don't know w-what came over me... please excuse my behaviour..." you blinked grabbing his collar with both hands making him go silent as he watched you anxiously "uh...(y/n)? Mph!" You pulled him back to you by his collar crashing your lips against his, kissing him fiercely. He got over his initial surprise rather quickly, hands moving up to your hips and the small of your back, pulling you closer while his lips moved against yours in sync.

You let go of his collar and slid your arms up around his shoulders, pressing your chest onto his as you pulled his head down towards yourself more, deepening the kiss and humming in content. He took a couple of steps forward and you found yourself backed into a tree. He leaned down low, slipping his hands over your curves and grabbing your thighs, pulling you up swiftly and wrapping your legs around his waist, not once breaking the kiss. You were the one who had to pull away to catch your breath, him trailing his lips down the side of your jaw and onto your neck, sucking the delicate skin between his teeth to nip on it lightly before licking and kissing over the abused, redening skin, drawing breathy little moans out of you. "I want you." He whispered by your ear as he sucked on the skin right behind it, making goosebumps rise on your skin. You whimpered, legs tightening around his waist pulling him closer to you. His hard on pressing into you as if his lustful confession needed confirmation. "Take me then." You moaned as you tugged on his hair so you could crash and mould your lips against his again. He groaned in response to your words, kissing you hungrily, his tongue swiping over your lips requesting entrance. Your lips parted letting his tongue slip past and into your mouth, whining as he took his time, slipping your skirt up over your legs and bunching it up around your waist, his now freed cock brushing against your inner thigh. He moved agonizingly slow as he pulled your underwear to the side, rubbed himself over your dripping core, slicking his length up on your wetness. It proved to be deliciously rewarding though, when he slowly started sinking his cock in through your warm hole. You gasped and he stopped moving, pulling away from the kiss and resting his forehead on yours, trying to catch his breath, shuddering from having to hold himself back from just pounding you senseless, your tightness wrapped around his head making him feel dizzy with lust. "Are you alright?" His voice was caring but sounded strained. You moaned, nodding your head, which only made him move deeper into you. You bit your lower lip, gripping his hair and tightly clawing into his clothes.

It took him a few more minutes to sink fully inside your heat, careful not to hurt you. His forehead was now resting on the tree behind you, giving you full access to his neck as you nipped and sucked on him to your heart's content, while you were getting adjusted to his size sheathed fully inside you. In retrospect, it wasn't a good idea, cause your lips and teeth on him like that almost made him lose it a few times. You started growing restless, legs tightening their hold around his waist as you clenched around his cock, making him growl in your ear, you shuddering and whimpering in response "move! Shotooo." you whined and he didn't waste a second, pulling away and thrusting back into you right away. You gasped sharply, mouth falling open in a silent cry, digging your nails into his shoulders. His lips were back on yours when you found your voice and started moaning and mewling loudly, eating up all your sounds eagerly, his thrusts never seizing in depth or speed, pressing your back further into the rough barks of the tree each time. You reached your limit first, fluttering and throbbing around him as you came over his cock, leaning your head back on the tree, arching into him, him kissing your neck and helping you ride it out. You were considerably louder as he chased his own release pounding into your oversensitive core over and over with erratic thrusts. Mewling and whimpering, it was almost too much for you; you gripped his hair tight and harshly tugged his head back to bite his jaw and neck. Surprised he hissed at the sharp pain and finally let out a deep moan as he released his load inside you, the warmth exploding deep in your core making you quiver with your second orgasm washing over you, as you clung to him tightly. He kept you up, resting his forehead on yours, watching you with tired loving eyes as you two caught your breaths still connected.

Once he couldn't stand on his feet any longer, he held you close to himself and away from the tree's harsh surface as he lightly dropped to his knees, pulling out of you and setting you down before hugging you tightly to his chest, face buried in the crook of your neck, fingers running through your hair in a soft caress. You nuzzled your face into his chest, rubbing your hands up and down his back soothingly. Both of you enjoying the comfortable calming silence engulfing the both of you in your afterglow.

"Make it go away."

"Hmm. Nah."

"(Y/n)."

"No, 'my' dear Shoto."

"The dog boy will not get off my back for the rest of my life..."

You laughed as you whirled around to look at his blushing face. As you two were cleaning up by the pond he had seen your not too small piece of work on his neck, turning a rather dark purple as it peaked from under his collar.

"He won't notice. Even if he does he is not unfamiliar with being marked. Kiri likes marking what's his. He will not bring it up." You pulled his head down and kissed his forehead.

When you got back to the cave the guys were all already back, Sero and Kaminari, a little beat but alive and well, relieving you of your concern. Not a scratch on Bakugou and Kirishima, as expected. You smiled as you sat with them deciding to introduce Shoto properly after they've all been settled and well rested.

"Oh shit, Todoroki! What happened to your neck?!" Kaminari's voice filled up the small space of the cave, drowning all your chatter into silence, eyes moving all on to Shoto. He sighed locking eyes with you.

"A wild cat attacked me."

Bakugou snorted into his drink as Kirishima grinned sheepishly, much to Sero's and Kaminari's confusion.

[rainandhotchocolate]

Winter Ball

A/N HELLO it’s DAY 10 (even though it’s 11 oops), here is the first fic for the day! I thought I’d mix it up a bit and do a gxg one so here is a Narcissa x reader fic cause why the hell not, and also @malfoy​ has gotten me onto the Narcissa fic track and im a mess.

It is very smutty just an FYI (also sorry I have v little experience in the gxg area so feel free to give me some feedback!)

Enjoy xx

Y/N stared at herself in the mirror, fiddling with her hair. The dorm room was quiet around her, and she knew she should really be getting going before everything started, but she couldn’t help watching to see if there’s anything out of place.

She was wearing a long dark green gown, strapless with small sparkling stars on the sweetheart bust and the remaining silk falling down to her ankles in a soft silhouette. She’d picked it out months ago with her mum in Diagon Alley but now she was wearing it, hair and makeup done, she felt nervous.

Y/N took in a deep breath, steeling herself before turning away from the mirror and walking determinedly down towards the common room. It was nearly empty, Christmas decorations hanging across the fireplace and snowflakes hanging in the air around the green Slytherin common room, fake snow blanketing the windowsills. Y/N slipped out of the room quickly, not wanting anyone to comment on her slinky dress and twinkling black heels and make her even more nervous.

This wasn’t exactly Y/N’s element. She could normally be found in much more… casual clothes. She barely could be seen in anything but black or blue jeans when she wasn’t in her uniform, and baggy jumpers were a staple.

Her heels clicked loudly down the hallway as she moved quickly towards the staircase that led to the Great Hall which had been transformed into a dance floor for the evening. There had been an announcement a month previous regarding the introduction of a winter ball, where you could choose to bring someone and stay over Christmas to enjoy winter festivities and a live band. Only fourth years and above were permitted entry unless you were invited by an older student, and students had been talking about nothing else for weeks.

Y/N reached the top of the stairs and peered out into the hallway. There were still some other students milling around the corridors surrounding the Great Hall, the doors wide open. Y/N sighed in relief, thanking Merlin that she wasn’t going to make some grand entrance into the ball and pushing herself to move forward and towards the doorway.

Y/N felt herself let out a small gasp at the sight of the Great Hall, stepping into the side to avoid the main walkway into the dance floor. The four tables that normally took up the majority of the room had disappeared, replaced with hundreds of small round tables covered in gleaming white tablecloths and floral centrepieces that seemed to be covered in snow. In fact, the entire room looked like it had been coated with a layer of fresh snow, the dance floor looking like ice, gleaming brightly underneath large ornate chandeliers covering the ceiling. There were ice sculptures of each house mascot in different areas of the room, which seemed to move when a student walked passed.

“It’s amazing isn’t it,” someone had sidled up to Y/N as she stood in awe of the decorations. Y/N turned to see Narcissa Black, dressed in a silvery-white gown that matched her hair which was curled loosely down her back. She looked angelic, though Y/N knew she was usually quite the opposite.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that about anything,” Y/N smirked, turning to face her. Narcissa rolled her eyes.

“I’m allowed to be positive on occasion.”

“Apparently so.”

“So, who did you come with?” Narcissa gazed pointedly at the empty space beside Y/N and back to her.

“You know I said I was going stag.”

“You just couldn’t get the courage to ask anyone out,” Narcissa raised an eyebrow turning back towards the dancefloor. Y/N followed her gaze, spotting a small group of Slytherin’s dancing to the side of the room.

“You came with Lucius then?”

“Of course, we are the perfect couple, aren’t we?” Narcissa grinned at Y/N, “He’s actually here with some Ravenclaw girl and I’ve been stalking Oliver all night.”

“Well make sure you get some photos with Lucius this time, so you don’t get killed by your parents.”

“Duly noted.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, gazing across the crowd. Whilst the ball was to integrate the houses in a fun and safe environment, the standard cliques were definitely showing across the crowd. Y/N could see the more awkward Ravenclaws standing around the drinks table chatting animatedly, the Hufflepuff Quidditch team dancing the most intensely in the centre of the dancefloor, standing dangerously close to the Gryffindor ice sculpture. There was the self-proclaimed marauders watching a group of girls from a table right next to the dancefloor, smirking stupidly at each other every few minutes.

“Care for a dance?” Narcissa turned back to Y/N, expression calm, but one hand was sidling up to Y/N’s waist. Y/N couldn’t help but let a small smile curl onto her face.

“Only if it’s going to completely destroy hetero conceptions of the world.”

“But of course.” Narcissa took Y/N’s hand and led her through the tables and onto the dancefloor. Y/N had the momentary feeling that she would slip when she stepped onto the floor but it was solid and smooth and felt natural under the tip of her heel.

Narcissa pulled her close, a hand on her waist and another on her shoulder, the way one would dance at a proper pureblood evening with a male suitor, grinning as they fell into a waltz across the room.  

“I’ve not seen you in a dress before,” Narcissa spoke softly as they moved across the ice, gaining more than a few turned heads.

“I like to confuse expectations.”

“I can tell.” She spun Y/N around suddenly, pulling her in close and whispering in her ear, “You look incredible.”

Y/N felt her stomach twist in a delightfully nervous way as Narcissa pulled back, keeping her expression plain but not hiding the twinkle in her eyes that she always got when she flirted with Y/N. They continued to dance slowly with the music, people beginning to ignore them as two friends dancing together. The hum of the speakers changed as the song ended and people began moving towards the stage.

“So there will be live music huh?” Y/N watched the crowd build around them, swarming towards the stage where a curtain was currently pulled over.

“Any bets it’s someone very terrible.”

Before Y/N could answer the curtain pulled back, revealing four boys in the same black velvet robes, looking very hyped.

“Are you ready to ROCK HOGWARTS!” The lead singer screaming into the microphone, resulting in a loud response from the crowd.

“And you are right,” Y/N laughed as the crowd pushed up against the stage and the band began to play aggressively.

“I think it might be time to casually slip out,” Narcissa had hold of Y/N’s wrist and slid her out of the crowd and towards the exit of the Great Hall.

Y/N looked quickly behind her to see if anyone had seen them leave before following Narcissa’s long strides across the corridor and down some stairs that lead to the Dungeons. Y/N couldn’t help but watch as Narcissa’s dress swished from side to side with her perfect feminine walk, the one Y/N was sure she had practised in the mirror for every event her parents held.

They passed the Slytherin common room quickly, moving towards the potions classroom and where Y/N knew there was a roomy broom cupboard hopefully sitting unused and out of the way…

Narcissa spun on her heels, the silver-white dress clinging to her hips as she turned to face Y/N as Y/N came to meet her.

“Care to join me?” Narcissa nodded towards the cupboard, looking innocent enough, the gaze Y/N had seen her use countless times to get boys to do what she wanted.

“If you insist,” Y/N stepped forward, standing directly in front of Narcissa now, slightly shorter than her even in heels, leaning forwards so that their bodies were touching as Y/N opened the door behind her.  

Narcissa grabbed Y/N roughly, pushing her inside and closing the door with her foot. It was dark, a soft light coming through the gaps in the door which outlined Narcissa’s curves as she stalked towards Y/N. Y/N pulled out her wand and gave a flick, a ball of light coming from the end of it and hovering above the two of them so Y/N could see Narcissa’s grinning face.

And then suddenly she was pushing her up against the back wall, kissing Y/N roughly, hands pressed against her own, lifting them up above Y/N’s head and pinning them to the wall behind her. Y/N kissed her back with equal passion, parting her lips so that Narcissa could flick a tongue against Y/N’s, both smiling into the kiss. Narcissa pulled away, swishing her long hair across her right shoulder and leaning against Y/N’s left, biting her way down Y/N’s neck and clavicle as she groaned softly, arching her back into Narcissa’s chest.

“You like that?” She cooed into Y/N’s ear, chewing on it softly.

“Yes,” Y/N gasped, closing her eyes, wanting to feel Narcissa’s hands still pushing against the wooden back wall, the soft tulle of her dress swishing against Y/N’s legs. Narcissa placed a heeled foot between Y/N’s legs, using the gap to lean further forwards.

“What else would you like?” She whispered, her voice getting rougher, less controlled. Y/N loved it when she lost control.

“Make me scream so loud you need to cover my mouth,” Y/N whispered back, grinning when she heard Narcissa’s soft moan at her words.

“How much do you like this dress?”

“Not enough to keep it on.”

Narcissa smirked, letting go of Y/N’s wrists above her head and trailing them down towards the zipper of Y/N’s dress, her long fingers trailing against her spine. Narcissa kept her eyes on Y/N, biting her lip softly as her hands reached around the back of her dress and ripped it open in one smooth moment. Y/N gasped lightly as she felt the top of the dress slip, revealing her very naked breasts heaving in front of Narcissa.

“Fuck,” Narcissa groaned, looking at her almost primitively, moving her hands around to the front of Y/N’s chest and massaging each breast softly, almost painfully slowly edging her way to each nipple before pressing a thumb on each and pressing lightly inwards, continuing to massage as Y/N felt her eyes roll back into her head. Narcissa grinned, leaning forward and sucking on one of her nipples, hard, biting down slightly when Y/N bucked her hips into Narcissa’s.

“You know, it’s really not fair that you still have this on,” Y/N breathed, looking down and Narcissa’s gown that was still very much in tact.

“I think you’re right,” She gave her an innocent look, standing upright and holding Y/N’s gaze as she unzipped her dress slowly, letting it slip the whole way down her body and onto the ground, only wearing a pale white thong.

“Not fair,” Y/N growled, giving her body a once over, feeling everything inside her tingling slightly at the sight of her porcelain, perfect skin and stunning body. Y/N let out a soft breath, but before she could take in another Narcissa had pulled the up the skirt of Y/N’s dress and picked her up with surprising ease, Y/N’s heels kicking back onto Narcissa’s hips. She pulled the skirt up higher and higher, kissing her way up Y/N’s leg slowly as Y/N reached down and gripped a large number of her shining curls in her fist, pulling back in the way she knew Narcissa liked. She responded by moving closer to Y/N and kissing the top of her vulva, making Y/N squirm.

Narcissa smiled against her leg, leaning in again and flicking a tongue across the edge of Y/N’s clitoris. Y/N moaned loudly, grabbing a hook that was sitting behind her and pushing her head against the wall as Narcissa began to flick her tongue back and forth softly but consistently over Y/N’s vulva. Every few flicks she would suck softly, making Y/N squeeze her thighs tightly around Narcissa’s head and neck and moan even louder.

“Fuck, Cissy, fuck,” Y/N gasped, squirming uncontrollably now as she felt her stomach begin to shake at Narcissa’s touch. Y/N could feel Narcissa grin but made no sign of slowing as she moved down suddenly and pushed her tongue into Y/N’s vagina.

“Merlin, I’m so close,” Y/N gasped, tightening her grip around Narcissa’s shoulders and pulling a hand through her soft, white hair. Narcissa looked up momentarily, wanting to see Y/N’s body wrapped around her own, breathing hitched, eyes wild.

She winked at Y/N before pushing Y/N closer to the wall, using her hands to push Y/N’s ass higher on her face and flicked her tongue faster against Y/N’s clitoris. Suddenly, her right hand moved away from Y/N’s body and moved up Y/N’s thigh as Narcissa licked faster and Y/N’s body shook. Narcissa pushed her index finger into Y/N’s vagina and Y/N had to stop herself from screaming Narcissa’s name loudly across the room.

“Fuck, Narcissa,” She managed, hissing into the air as her stomach shook harder, the orgasm building in her. “I want you so bad.”

Narcissa moaned into Y/N at her words and the vibration made Y/N slam her head against the wall and moan loudly, her orgasm washing over her in waves as Narcissa pulled her head away, continuing to move her finger in circles inside Y/N.

Narcissa clamped one hand against Y/N’s mouth, smirking mischievously, but the hand against her mouth just made her wetter, biting down against Narcissa’s fingers as she rode out her orgasm.

Narcissa pulled out her index finger after a moment, placing both hands around Y/N’s waist to hoist her down from the wall and around her shoulders.

They stood in silence for a moment, both breathing heavily and smiling. Y/N bit her lip as she saw Narcissa’s glistening skin, her breasts pressed against her own.

“We should probably get back before anyone wonders where we got to,” Narcissa breathed, trailing one finger along Y/N’s arm, making her shiver.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to finish you off?” Y/N placed her hand against Narcissa’s upper thigh, her lip curling as she watched Narcissa’s pristine manners disappear with a dark flash across her face.

“Later,” Narcissa grinned, pulling Y/N’s hand away and leaning in to kiss her softly. “I’ll see you after I kiss Lucius publicly goodnight.”

“Such a tease.”

“I do my best.” Narcissa pulled her dress back up, zipping it quickly before helping Y/N pull her own up and glued it back together with a flick of her wand.

“Give me five minutes,” Narcissa nodded towards the door, pulling it slightly open to check the coast was clear before slipping out silently. Y/N leaned against the door, still breathless, giving Narcissa the 5-minute gap she’d requested. Later, she’d see her again later.

Y/N smiled to herself and followed Narcissa’s steps out of the cupboard and out of sight.

 Taglist: @maraudersandco​ @gollyderek​

@northscorpio @seesaw-it   @passionfruitt @depressedcoffeebean @supercuteasalily @palaisdecouture @blackpinkdolan @fashionlive15 @creepysweet @sour-patch-kid

[perfectgentlemano]

Elsa’s Three Great Moments

Elsa’s Three Great Moments from the musical, together with comparisons to the movie.

This is a long post that makes direct reference to songs in the Broadway musical.  Here they are online:

1. Dangerous to Dream: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=c1zlG69CMuQ 2. Let It Go: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=VQVpwNV1Gms 3. Monster: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=b0T6N6sevm4 4. Colder by the Minute: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=5dwHqzuxJfQ

We might be forgiven for thinking Elsa's position in the world is out of step with who she actually is.  Elsa is a princess, and then a queen; she is the centre of power in her kingdom; she is a woman destined to command her people and to shape the world.  Yet the most beautiful deuteragonist of Frozen spends most of her time being unable to control her own powers and is in turn controlled by others.  Her powers assert themselves accidentally, first striking young Anna, then exposing Elsa during her coronation ball, and then striking Anna again. Even when Elsa retreats to her ice castle, she is mostly passive: she simply waits for her enemies to arrive and drag her back to Arendelle in chains.  And in the end, Hans accrues so much power that he is able to sentence Elsa to death.  Even the resolution happens without Elsa acting: without Anna's sacrifice as an act of true love, both sisters would be dead.  So in Elsa we see a woman who is both oppressed by fate and manipulated by her enemies.

But while this is a dimension to the story in Frozen, it is not the whole story. As I write these words in the Main Branch of the New York Public Library, I have just seen the musical version of Frozen.  And it occurs to me that what makes the musical both more powerful and darker than the movie is that the musical develops and expands Elsa's character.  The Elsa of the movie and the musical are the same person, but the latter draws her out in more detail.  And while Anna is undeniably courageous, it is Elsa's struggle and her flaws that allow her nobility to burn so brightly.  To adapt a fragment of poetic wisdom from Leonard Cohen, the flaws in Elsa's character are "how the light gets in."

Elsa's nobility embodies a key insight: that all things being equal, it is more noble to act than to be acted upon.  In both the movie and the musical, we follow Elsa's transformation from a woman who is acted upon by circumstance and fate, to a woman who becomes free to shape the world as she sees fit.  The three points where this happens correspond, not coincidentally, to the three solos for Elsa in the musical: Dangerous to Dream (where Elsa is crowned), Let It Go (which needs no introduction), and Monster (where Elsa is attacked by her enemies in her ice palace).  In each of these cases, Elsa is fundamentally alone, though there are other people present in Dangerous to Dream and Monster.

The Nobility of Hope: Dangerous to Dream

When we first meet Elsa as an adult, she is preparing for her coronation in For the First Time in Forever.  The initial tension is simple: will she be able to be crowned without being exposed?  In the musical, Elsa sings Dangerous to Dream in the chapel, and reveals an additional tension.  On the one hand, she is intent on concealing the truth; on the other, she has a profound sorrow and longing to let Anna at least know why things are the way they are.  The most poignant moment is when Elsa kneels beside Anna (she addresses Anna in an aside; the audience hears Elsa, but Anna is blissfully ignorant): "I wish I could tell the truth,/ Show you who's behind the door;/ I wish you knew what all this pantomime/ And pageantry was for."  We feel her isolation.  And Caissie Levy-- who plays Elsa in the musical, and who is so charismatic and compelling that it is difficult to imagine anyone else in the role---expresses this isolation with her body language: she inclines her head down and lets her gloved hands drop heavily into her lap.  She knows the burden will never be lifted.

As with the coronation in the movie, the most dramatic moment in Dangerous to Dream happens when Elsa forgets herself momentarily: to take the sceptre and orb, she has to remove her gloves.  This allows the initial tension to reassert itself: will she be exposed?  She berates herself as she hands her gloves to Anna: "Why right now make this mistake?/ How could I let my concentration break?"  She holds her breath, and then we exhale with her as she gloves herself once again. The princess has become a queen.

Elsa's joy at having the initial tension resolved is palpable.  She smiles broadly, and can barely contain her happiness: "I can't stop smiling; how strange./ Does this mean that things are different?/ Could they really change?"  Levy beams, and we hear her voice quiver with excitement and happiness.  This is Elsa's true nobility shining through: she knows who she is and what she wants.  She feels an alignment between her position in the world and who she actually is.

It does not last.  Elsa knows she cannot reveal herself; that even thinking about it is dangerous.  She quickly retreats: "And could I open up the door,/ Finally see you face to face?/ I guess the queen can change the rules but not/ The reasons they're in place."  It is a powerful moment.  She turns away from what she desires most because she wants something even more: to protect her sister and her kingdom.  She struggles. She wants to be free. But her nobility constrains her deepest hopes.

The Nobility of Freedom: Let It Go

Who can forget Let It Go?  In the musical, the first act ends with Let It Go. The last note Levy sings is fortississimo (fff), powerfully sustained, and an octave higher than we would expect from the movie.  The energy is tremendous.  As the note ends, the lights abruptly wink out and the stage goes dark.  The audience is left breathless as the curtain falls and the lights come up.  In the end, Levy takes the best song from the movie and cranks it up to 11.  We cannot help wonder at Elsa, and at Levy's portrayal of her.

There are so many great moments in Let It Go that it is hard to account for them all.  As soon as Elsa uses her powers openly, she becomes who she is meant to be.  The change from her coronation gown to her ice gown is more than just physical.  An awe-inspiring and beautiful sorceress is who Elsa has always been; it was just mostly hidden before.

On stage, the centrepiece of the song, and in some sense the highlight of the whole musical, occurs when Elsa dramatically transforms into her ice gown.  It starts slow: her remaining glove and cape are carried away on the wind.  Then come the icy fireworks. As momentum builds, the stage begins to throb with Elsa's magic, the her ice flares and climbs up the sides of the stage.  Finally we have the transformation.  The costume change in the musical occurs slightly before it does in the movie: at the moment where Elsa reveals her signature braid in the movie, it is at that point in the musical that the change occurs.  Her coronation gown falls away (concealed by mist rolling across the stage) and Levy steps forward majestically in a shimmering gown of blue and white and crystals, with a fine gauze train rippling behind.  The change is stunning.

But what makes the change even more forceful is that this is where Elsa transforms from a woman who is treated rudely by the world to one who shapes the world directly.  The change is prefigured by her hopes in Dangerous to Dream, and here it is. "It's time to see what I can do/ To test the limits and break through," are not the words of a passive victim of circumstances, but of a powerful woman who bursts upon the world.  When she proclaims "Here I stand in the light of day./ Let the storm rage on!" it is clear that she has arrived.  Her nobility manifests itself in freedom.

As an aside, one of the things Levy does not pick up from the movie is Elsa's stomp (when she sings "stand" in "Here I stand!" and builds the ground floor of her castle).  I am not sure why this is, but I speculate that there is too much going on either vocally or in terms of the multiple dresses she is wearing to make this practical.  It might also be that I invest more emotion into Elsa's stomps than does Levy, and so I am more aware of its absence.

The Nobility of Sacrifice: Monster

We have said the musical is darker than the movie, and it is during Monster that the musical is at its darkest.  Neither the song nor the climax of Monster have direct points of contact with the movie.  Monster is the eleven o'clock number in the musical: as the forces close in on our heroine, how will she persevere?  In the movie, Elsa ably fights off her enemies who are trying to kill her; that is, until Hans reminds Elsa that people think of her as a monster.  Elsa pauses, and this gives Hans time to redirect the crossbow shot to bring the chandelier crashing down on her and knock her out.

This is decidedly not what happens in the musical.  Elsa is under attack, but there are many more men assailing her than in the movie.  She seems very aware that the end is near as she sees them coming up the mountain ("It's finally come,/ Come to knock down my door; I can't hide this time,/ Like I hid before.").  But Elsa traps her enemies with ease in a (rotating) prison of icicles.  She is still the woman who sang Let It Go: she does not revert to being subjugated to the desires of others.  But she knows (from Anna, during the reprieve of For the First Time in Forever) that Arendelle is trapped in a deadly winter.  This, more than anything else, means she cannot turn away and hide.  Throughout the song, Elsa struggles with the question of what the right thing to do is.  This is even reflected by the music, which flips back and forth between 4/4 and an unstable 7/8 time (the latter being quite unusual musically, and certainly unusual for a musical).

In a marked divergence from events in the movie, Elsa willingly allows herself to be captured.  In the last stanza, she sings "I cannot be a monster!/ I will not be a monster!/ Not tonight!"  The song ends abruptly, and she announces, "I surrender!"  What precedes this, though, is the darkest and most adult part of the musical.  It is during Monster that Elsa explicitly contemplates suicide: "Father, you know what's best for me,/ If I die, would they be free?"  Elsa then reverses this sentiment in the next verse as she addresses her mother: "Mother, what if after I'm gone,/ The cold gets colder and the storm rages on?/ No!" and follows with an affirmation of life: "I have to stay alive and fix what I've done,/ Save the world from myself,/ And bring back the sun!"  (Incidentally, this is the second time she addresses her dead father; the first is during Dangerous to Dream, where she joyfully exclaims, "Father, I did it!" after being crowned.)

But there is more to unpack here.  First, even though in surrendering Elsa gives herself into the hands of others, it is clear that she does so willing: they are powerless to capture her.  But in surrendering, Elsa is attempting to take control of something more important than what her enemies will do to her: she is attempting to control her own magic and save Arendelle.  Second, although Elsa's address to her mother is seemingly a rejection of suicide, this is not actually the case.  After she addresses her mother, but before she surrenders, she sings that if she is indeed a monster, there is only one thing left to do: "Before I fade to white,/ I'll do all that I can/ To make things right."  "Fade to white" is clearly a veiled reference to suicide if all else fails; if she cannot control her powers, perhaps in the end her death will save her sister and her people and her kingdom.  This is nicely underlined by very short but ingenious musical bridge passage: a seven note musical element in Monster that quotes the Dies Irae.  The Dies Irae (Day of Wrath) is closely associated with the Requiem for the dead.  Death is clearly close on Elsa's heels.

What comes to the fore in Monster is Elsa's primary drive: her willingness to regain control at all costs, including her own life.  She loves her sister, and loves her kingdom.  But Elsa's nobility is such that she is willing to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to save everyone else.

The Climax: Colder by the Minute

Elsa's three great moment have been established at this point, but Colder by the Minute is the climax of the musical and so deserves some comment.  It follows substantially the same pattern as the fjord scene in the movie.  But it is more chaotic (with characters repeatedly running onto stage to sing a few lines, and then running off), more musically unsettled (with an urgency and drive that frequently quotes other pieces, including a minor key version of Let It Go), and scary (as the child covering her eyes next to me in the St James theater would attest).

The action in Colder by the Minute starts with Hans charging Elsa with treason and sentencing her to death.  This Elsa cannot accept.  She is standing between two guards wearing two oversized metal gauntlets, but at Hans's judgement she cries, "What? No!" and throws the gauntlets to the ground.  This might seem strange, since she surrendered in Monster; but it is consistent.  Elsa is not certain that her death will end the winter she is responsible for, and so she is not about to let Hans execute her.

As snow swirls around her, Elsa becomes more desperate: "Can't run, can't stop, can't breath,/ Can't live and I can't die!"  At one point, we have four characters singing one note each of a diminished seventh chord: Anna: "Kristoff!"; Kristoff: "Anna!"; Elsa: "Monster!"; Hans: "Elsa!"  Levy's voice soars above the others.  But what it makes clear is that Elsa's true battle is not with Hans, or with anyone other than herself.  We can almost hear an echo of Anna's accusing words to Hans: "You're no match for Elsa!".  There was never any doubt that Hans was no match for Elsa.

But at this moment, we wonder whether Elsa is a match for Elsa.  At the end of Colder by the Minute, Anna saves Elsa, and Elsa saves the world.  Elsa becomes the woman we always hoped she was.  Elsa marvels at Anna being willing to sacrifice herself; but what is clear from the musical is that Elsa is willing to sacrifice herself to save everyone.  In being so willing, Elsa draws out the various aspects of her nobility: that of hope, that of freedom, and that of sacrifice.  In the musical, Elsa is without match.  And Caissie Levy's portrayal of Elsa makes this matchless queen unforgettable.

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

What Might Have Been - 8

My ongoing fic for @goodomenscelebration. Crowley has arrived in the post-Apocalypse wasteland, searching for Aziraphale. Angst and destruction ahead.

Parts 1-6 here.

Part 7 here (despite what the lying title might say)

Family

Crowley couldn’t sense Aziraphale.

Or rather, he could sense Aziraphale, knew he was somewhere in the world, but that was as far as he knew. Not the direction, nor the distance, nor anything else.

He circled over the V-cut valley of Devil’s Dyke, looking for anything familiar. Looking for anything alive.

Those cliffs to the left looked like the ones they had chosen for their home, but there was no cottage, no garden, no little copse of trees sheltering it from view. The landscape had been scraped clean to the bright-white stone underneath.

He circled again, over a lake of fire, another frozen but sublimating, like dry ice. A river of sludge that seemed to run uphill. White bones of animals that never lived in this part of the world, looking far too large to be allowed.

Another circle, further out. Over there – the village of Ditchling. Aziraphale dragged him down there for tea at that little café twice a week. He liked to walk down the main street and wave to the humans as if he’d lived among them for decades.

No one lived there now.

With a flutter of black wings, Crowley came to rest at the traffic circle in the center of the village. To one side, that bakery where Aziraphale liked to browse cakes and bottles of wine, windows smashed, shelves bare; to the other, the old Post Office building, which looked as if it had been torn apart from the inside out. What little remained of the brick walls were black with soot.

One whole side of the village was just gone, foundations still smoldering: the little shop where they bought vegetables whenever Aziraphale got it in his mind to try cooking dinner, the jewelers where they would look at rings, had been looking for months, still hadn’t made a decision because Aziraphale needed Crowley’s to be perfect.

Just past the bakery was a little plant shop, which had fared no better. Little pots and planters – once brightly colored, now chipped and faded – held the brown, withered remains of plants. He touched one, and it fell to dust between his fingers. Nothing could survive here.

Except, in the back, he thought he saw a bit of green. Stepping carefully through the shattered window, Crowley moved through the shop to a corner that got little light, but also shielded its plants from whatever happened on the street. And there it was: a tall succulent, most of its green waxy leaves already turned yellow and fallen off, but a few still clinging to life. He tugged at one, and it was still springy, still a little soft.

“Well. I don’t know how you survived this long, but a little water and you might make it.” He picked up the pot. “Doubt we’ll find any. But let’s see what we can do.”

He was easing back through the window and happened to glance back towards the traffic circle –

Something – someone – darted across the street.

Crowley hunched, pulling his wings out again, clutching his plant close, ready to flee. Aziraphale? Probably not; if the angel were that close, no chance his sense would be so confused. Someone else.

He could run, of course, fly away. He was here to find Aziraphale, and nothing else. He would find his angel, take him home, rescue their lovely home from the Archangels, and never think of this place again.

Except…

Except he was here now, and he didn’t know what was going on.

Crowley hated not knowing what was going on.

And the best way to find out was to ask someone.

With one last brimstone-scented breath, Crowley started towards the figure.

By the time he’d rounded to corner, it was empty again – just a long stretch of road, past the little café with the garden in the back, the inn, the church. It was too silent. Wind whistled over broken glass, but that was all. No rustle of paper, no skitter of feet, no birds, no insects. With the sky dark and scabbed over, he couldn’t even tell what time of day or night it was. The world seemed paused, frozen, holding its breath.

A foot scuffed.

Crowley pressed himself to the side of the inn, wings hidden. Something was just around the corner, perhaps in the parking lot. He set the plant down in the window box, among the decaying remains of its kin, and pressed himself to the wall, trying to look without being seen. It didn’t work, though, not only because his glasses got in the way.

“Right,” he whispered to himself. Could be a demon. Or an angel. Or…anything. Be ready to look and run. He had enough energy for one more form shift today, and a rat could very easily get lost in the ruins.

Snapping around the corner, Crowley found the other being was also pressed tight to the wall, trying to peer without being seen. Almost as tall as Crowley, dressed all in black, with short blond hair, just a hint of curl. The boy looked at him with wide – and very familiar – eyes.

“Adam?” Crowley took a step forward.

Mistake. Crowley was, immediately and without passing through any intermediate space, on the roof of the church across the street. He skittered for a second, trying to keep his balance on the impossibly steep pitch, but the building was in ruins, the consecration weakened to the point that he could barely feel it at all.

“Go away! Leave me alone!” The boy shouted, already backing up the street. “I won’t do it any longer, you hear me? I mean it this time! I want – I want to be left alone!”

“Adam, wait!” He shook out his wings again, jumping after the boy. There was no mistaking him, of course – the powers were a giveaway, but he looked almost exactly like the young boy he and Aziraphale had visited in Tadfield only a month ago. Except that Adam had been full of smirks and slouches and bad jokes, trying to convince Crowley to let him drive the Bentley just once around town, no one’ll know but me and Dog. Explaining his idea for a new ice cream flavor even the Americans hadn’t thought of yet. Laughing when Aziraphale asked him if it was possible to get a rotary smartphone.

This Adam stood ramrod straight, body shifting back to attention every time he stopped moving. Older, he seemed, stronger for certain, with a calculating look that took in everything. His eyes darted now, as he frowned, hiding a fear Crowley had never seen in him, not even at the Airbase three years ago.

But it was still him. Still his godson.

“Adam,” he tried again, softening his voice, holding his hands to the sides. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yeah,” he bunched his fists. “A demon. Think I don’t know? You might not be dressed for battle, but it’s obvious. Well, back off, or I’ll put you inside the church next time. I can, you know.” His lip trembled. “And I’m – I’m not going to fight again. I don’t – don’t care what you lot do to me, I’m not –”

“No.” Crowley took another step forward. “I’m not going to hurt you, Adam. You should be able to see that. In my mind.”

“Not looking in a demon’s mind,” Adam snapped. “Not after last time. You keep your nasty – everything to yourself.” He glanced over his shoulder, as if planning to run. But it was a long way to the next town, with bugger-all in between. “Why d’you keep calling me that, anyway?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Crowley adjusted his glasses, almost pulling them off. Would it make the kid more comfortable, or less? “Isn’t that your name?”

The sullen shrug was almost something the real Adam would have done, except without the little smile that always followed it. “I guess. No one’s called me that since…” he waved a hand, taking in everything.

“What happened, Adam?” A Tudor house had stood nearby, white plaster and ornate stickwork, with a brick section said to date back a thousand years. All gone now, except a set of brick steps, rising ten feet to open out onto empty air. Crowley sprawled against the side of it. “To England? To you?”

“Armageddon,” he snapped. Well. That was fairly obvious.

“You didn’t stop it?”

“Stop it? I started it!” He clenched his jaw, face twisting in pain. Both hands pressed to his forehead. “I didn’t mean to. The voices…they get so loud. Until I can’t think. Until I don’t want to think.” He looked up again, tears in his eyes. “I know – we both know they’ll make me go back. Just. Let me have until then. Just a few days.” Genuine pleading, the kind that only comes from real fear.

“Go back where? Tell me what’s going on.”

“Go back to your – your stupid war! I don’t want to fight, I don’t want to destroy angels, I don’t want to kill two billion humans, and I don’t want to declare myself God! I just…I want…” He bit his lip, stepping back, as if expecting to be hit.

“What?” Crowley slid down the wall to crouch just above the ground. That all sounded familiar, something from the books of prophecy Aziraphale had never stopped reading. But all that could wait. “What is it you want, Adam?”

The boy leaned against the brick stairs, and arm length away, and slid slowly down until he was in a crouch of his own. “I want…I want to go home. I miss my mum and dad. Your lot made me send them away, at the first battle.” He shrugged. “Not that they cared about me.”

“Ugh,” Crowley cracked his head against the wall. He did not come out here planning to deal with teenaged self-esteem issues. “Adam. Look. We both know the only reason your parents went away is because you compelled them. For Someone’s sake, I’ve met them. There’s no way they don’t care about you.”

Adam frowned in confusion. “How do you know my parents?”

“Ehhhhh…long story.” Crowley smirked. “You could save us both a lot of time, just read it from my head? No?” He shrugged. “Then you’re just going to have to trust me. I’ve met your parents. And I can tell you, it’s absolutely disgusting how attached to you they are.”

Adam snorted. “I think you’ve got the wrong parents, mate. Mine didn’t need to be brainwashed to take off back to America without me.”

Crowley stared ahead.

Then he turned to Adam, ripping his glasses off. “Did you say America? Did you – back to America?”

“Yeah.” Adam shrugged. “Thought you said you knew.”

Crowley wrestled with a sudden feeling of unease. Somehow, in an Apocalypse-torn wasteland version of the home he’d built, he’d found something that could make it worse. “What’s…tell me your full name. Full human name. What your parents called you.”

“Well, my mum called me Adam,” he said slowly, “but my full name was Warlock Adam Thaddeus Dowling.”

--

(Note for clarity: This is Adam. In this universe, the switch didn’t go wrong, he was raised by the Dowlings, and I compromised a bit on the name to what I hoped would be least confusing. I also tried to make his personality partway between Adam and Warlock, thanks to those Dowling influences. He’s 14 here.)

[lanamemories2]

rides onto the dash nude n on horseback like this pic of sam way. oh fancy seeing u here.......... im impeccably tensed our entire exchange. buns like steel cld crack a nut open between them. i’m nai n it’s so nice to meet u all!!!! i’m one of the admins here (josefine frida pettersen on the main) n i’m so Excited 2 get things going........... some facts abt me r i sometimes hv a witch’s cackle, i once drunkenly swung frm a tree branch pretending to b tarzan n fell n grass stained my fav jeans at 4 in the morning n i lov spicy food despite the fact it mkes me sweat like a hog in the sun. more abt lana under the cut!!! also like this or hmu if u wna plot n her pinterest is here n playlist is here 👺🌚

「kristine froseth & cis-female」⇾ jameson , lana, the junior radcliffe student’s records show that she is a gemini and 22 years old. she is studying dance, living in off campus and can be vivacious, passionate, childish & impulsive. when i see her i am reminded of stepping out in the cold wearing just a red slip, lipstick on a stranger’s throat, a bumper sticker on the back of a convertible cadillac that says ‘SCRAPPY DOO IS A FILTHY SLUT’. ⇽「nai & 23 & gmt & she/her.」

AESTHETICS:

scalding your fingers in shower water until they glow like rudolph’s nose, cherry red gym socks tugged high and nothing else, stepping out in the cold wearing just a red slip, an origami swan made from an old receipt, tickling a stranger’s chin with the end of a feather boa, crowning each finger with a miniature raspberry, hugging a knee close to lick a stripe of fruit juice off a bruise there, doodling penises in the condensation of a car window, a water pistol topped with rum and covered in glittery pin-up stickers, believable smiles that feel more like baring teeth, a bumper sticker on the back of a convertible cadillac that says ‘SCRAPPY DOO IS A FILTHY SLUT’, prancing around in your underwear to a vinyl record with the curtains open.

HISTORY:

lana grew up in a big house in albany, NY. albums framed on the walls. mayb some rolling stone covers too frm way bk when of the bands her dad’s label signed. kind of like… a rock star palace w no evidence of children at all. i think i summarised it best in one of lana’s self paras once when i said the garden ws “as big as it was unloved”, not that u wld know from all of the gardener’s pruning

lana’s mum victoria (vic) ws a music journalist w a pretty fruitful career ahead of her when she met lana’s dad richard (rich). his record label ws jst starting out, founded on the coattails of his rich best friend’s (jensen peters) investment w his other best friend (who he jst calls knoxville). it rocketed to success when they signed poppy injects, a rock band w an electric stage presence, n victoria ws drawn to the glitz n glamour of a man tht ws at the helm of his aspiring industry. their love ws very impulsive, all or nothing right frm the start, n it ws almost like she ws mre in love w his accomplishments n what he represented than him

anyway so jameson records repped a few big rock bands bk in the eighties, altho poppy injects r who they’re mostly known fr, namely bc of hw brightly they crashed n burned. (drugs/addiction tw) they were a big chart success bt the lead singer hd quite an intense struggle w heroin (wsnt rly subtle abt it either while he ws in the public eye as u cn probably imagine frm such an on-the-nose band name) n he ws always in n out of the papers. it eventually brought down his career n it ws a big publicity nightmare

lana pretty much… grew up around figures like this throughout childhood. rly troubled characters who wld kind of… b extremely volatile n destructive abt their troubles. the jameson house was kind of an open one as welcoming clients went n a lot of parties took place there. a lot of the time musicians wld b snorting lines in the kitchen when she wnted to grab a bowl of cereal fr breakfast. very strange environment fr a child to grow up in

her parents always kind of jst… didn’t like her much. her older brother caleb ws unplanned bt they sort of welcomed the surprise more bt… quickly realised they weren’t cut out fr parenthood n then when lana came as another surprise 3 yrs later they didn’t even try to hide their resentment abt the situation. her mum ws actually booked in to have an abortion bt cldnt go through with it at the last minute. once when lana asked her why shes so cold towards her she jst turned her head frm her dresser, looked at her, told her abt this n said “idk why i didn’t go”. lana didn’t kno wht to say to tht so she jst left her room n closed the door

(dissociation/delusion tw) bc of this growing up lana adopted this weird like…. she didn’t rly kno what it ws bt it ws a delusion of sorts where she thought she ws a ghost. she’d jst sort of… drift around the halls w noone acknowledging her n sometimes she ws jst convinced she wsnt actually there or they cldnt see her n she ws jst haunting the house frm a previous family

the one saving grace tho tht sort of?? gt her thru this n made her feel Seen ws caleb. lana quite genuinely hs always thought the sun shines out of her older brothers ass like she jst thinks. hes the best person in the entire world. wld b rly bewildered if anyone questioned tht. he wld always look out for her in the zoo they called a home n cut the crusts off her PBJs so they lkd like teddy bears (he’d cook fr them most of the time bc their parents were too busy/didn’t care to) n sometimes wld even sleep at the bottom of her bed curled up like a guard dog. it ws always lana n caleb n his best friend tommy against the world in tht house (tommy lived next door n was always over bc he had very strict parents / a military father tht he found suffocating)

SO when caleb n tommy announced tht they’d signed up to the army lana ws understandably…….. blindsided. she ws rly upset tht they were leaving like pretty besides herself bt she tried not to b mad at them n made them promise theyd b safe n back as soon as possible. she even asked if they cld somehow take her w them n they were jst like :/ it doesn’t work that way luv x

(death tw, ptsd tw, grief tw, trauma tw, hospitalisation tw, drugs tw) anyway caleb ended up getting discharged under grounds of severe ptsd when he witnessed tommy die in an explosion tht took place in a shock raid. caleb returned home sans tommy bt he was never the same after tht. he’s been in n out of hospital n he turned to using as a way to cope so it’s been a rly bumpy road since. lana kind of felt like two of her brothers died out there in a way n jst like tht it wasn’t them vs the world any mre, it was jst her

ANYWAY whew tht rly…. took a dark turn there….. chuckles nervously at hw sad lana’s life is bt it’s fine it’s all fINE!!!!!!! ok. so on a mre lighthearted note the jameson family r pretty well off n bc of her relation to such a big music industry figure she’s hung out w a fair few relatively high rep ppl thru her teens. mostly kids of celebrities n stuff like tht. she amassed kind of an instagram following mainly fr her style (penny lane-esque in some aspects aka lots of fur cuff trimmed jackets bt then also jst…. a wild combination of everything honestly. pastel faux fur coats, seventies style platforms, flame red cowboy boots, pink fishnet tights n glitter used like highlight Everywhere) n bc she’s undeniably Pretty Gorl

(trauma tw) after caleb got back he was rly withdrawn n depressed. he shut lana out n was kind of harsh to her a lot of the time, always telling her to leave him alone or pushing her away. it didnt help either tht lana had a rly traumatic experience w some of her dad’s colleagues at the label when she ws 16 n he was away n she cldnt even tell him abt it once he was bk bc of his own traumas. she kind of jst shut it all in n kept it to herself

(hypersexuality tw) this obviously?? made her spiral a lot. she was already a girl tht loved sex but since her trauma it got…. completely out of hand. it got to a point where she couldnt rly go 2 days without it, probably not even 1. her lowest point has probably been scrolling thru craiglist for anonymous encounters n meeting up w strangers on there fr hookups even tho it’s insanely dangerous n she cld wind up getting herself killed. the risk is honestly part of the appeal to her sometimes she’s :////// quite self destructive n jst likes a thrill to mke her feel Alive. it’s v clear at this point tht she has a sex addiction whether she’s ever admitted it or not. it kind of… almost mingled w tht same feeling she used to get when she ws younger of being a ghost?? like she jst. only rly feels Real when she’s being touched

(violence tw) she’s had.................... SCH a bad history dating wise. she almost always dates fking.... actual beasts like i jst wna gently shake her by the shoulders sometimes bt :////////////// one of her recent exes is in prison aftr he beat up someone she’d slept w in front of her like she jst. has had a very Not Sexy time w romance...... she hd to b a witness in the trial abt it n he ws found guilty n sent down so it ws like Intense n a gd example of the kinds of disastrous relationships she gets herself into. perks of being a wallflower voice: We Accept The Love We Think We Deserve.

this past summer she gt a job at a burlesque club in downtown lovell!!! it honestly is her dream job like. dancing? being sexy? fav hobbies................. most delicious pastimes... 10/10 ideal fr her............... she almost started working at a coyote ugly bar bt this one won her over. she usually jets off to some foreign country n has a rly exotic n action packed summer bt i think she wldv just been working local there fr this one to b close to her brother (the rehab he’s at is close like a 40 min drive so!). she’s also moved into a big lofty apartment w 3 roommates tht’s above a chinese take out w lots of lanterns hung outside. the street? scott street......................... tribute to mizz phoebe bridgers hunger games salutes to the sky so it travels 2 her............. she gt a red heart shaped bath tub installed which hs always been her dream so honestly the summer hs been pretty gd to her....... five stars on yelp she deserves Some happiness once in a while

PERSONALITY:

always smells vaguely of wild cherries or strawberry starburst or jst the candy aisle in general. if she ws a vinyl record she’d b this one n she’d only play good vibrations by the beach boys, dancing on my own by robyn, play that funky music by wild cherry, femme fatale by the velvet underground n (i can’t get no) satisfaction by the rolling stones

growing up lana was always a HUGE social butterfly. knew everyone n everyone knew her. she ws one of those girls tht ws kind of impossible to ignore or forget (cld b a gd or bad thing depends on ur Stance...... she can be a lot tho frankly). very animated, always made u feel like u were the centre of the universe whenever she spoke to u, always made it feel like u were best friends even if ud only spoken to her once.

deliberately puts on tht kind of Magnetic Alluring act tht femme fatales wear in movies sometimes. kind of…. is always playing A Role of the person tht she wants to b seen as or the person she feels ppl want her to be. chameleons to situations. feels like she’s performed as the vivacious n fun loving Lana Jameson fr so long tht she doesn’t rly kno who she is beneath tht bt she isn’t too keen to find out

always the last one awake at the party. jst doesn’t seem to hv.... an off switch. every1 else cld b passed out at 6am n she’d still b swaying around to sunday morning by the velvet underground in her underwear drinking frm a bottle of merlot

she’s always been rly spontaneous n adventurous. always doing something weird n wild every weekend. she has ten thousand ridiculously absurd n chaotic stories

uncontrollably flirty. she’s tht tumblr post tht’s like flirting will b ur hubris n the reply is like kind of sexy of u to say so................ SO confident cld talk to anyone. makes a joke out of anything. tends to laugh when she feels like crying. even if she DOES cry she’ll smile thru it like it isn’t happening she jst.... doesn’t like to b negative ever if she cn help it

she’s amassed a weird collection of like... Things various ppl she’s known hv made abt her. this guy she ws friends w wrote a song abt her n performed it at a gig she went to without telling her in advance. it ws rly dramatic he sang it n looked at her the whole time n she ws jst a bit like.... omg.... lmfao............... she’s also hd various paintings done of her. i honestly dnt even rly kno hw it happens she jst has a personality where she..... leaves an impression like a lipstick print on a white shirt w some ppl.................. she’s like tht tumblr post where someone arrives at a poetry reading n is like hi yes........ where do the muses sit? except she isn’t rly.... obnoxious abt it she jst shrugs n is like.......... oh that........... KJHSFKHGSFKGHSFKGSFHGK. it’s a charmed life fr some

always dapples her fingers thru the breeze when she’s driving in a car w the window down. she almost always has some sort of sweet on her, whether it’s sour haribo cherries or strawberry lollipops.

PLOTS:

exes tht lana’s fucked over hideously. she’d probably cheat a lot and it’d be a whole…mess. whips her in the town square like gale

mayb someone tht flipped the switch and cheated on her??? chaos. anguish. strife. 

someone tht works at the burlesque club in downtown lovell w her!!!!! as like a bartender or another dancer or security or................... whtvr honestly. hvn’t worked out a name fr the club yet bt i think it cld b a fun setting to write stuff in n there cld b lots to build off there!!

a cousin plot cld b fun too

her n freya nilsen run smthn called Dick Sisters Inc......... they hv a twitter fr it n everything.... n a hq based in one of the abandoned dorms in the leach building.... lots of inflatable furniture disco balls.............. lana even gt replica airplane seats so they cn sit n b served drinks by this guy tht runs errands fr them who they call bucket....... they bsically like. set ppl up n help ppl get laid it’s a matchmaking service of sorts.......... started as a joke bt nw it’s genuinely become quite a profitable business w word spreading all over campus........ ugh entrepreneurial icons... anyway mayb ur chara cld come to lana fr Dick Sisters assistance......... mayb they’v come to them in the past......... 

a friend tht lana fel out w bc she slept w their significant other.

someone tht’s getting lana into drugs?? she’s kind of impressionable/down for anything so tht’s a likely scenario she’d get into tbh

briefly did camgirl stuff on an independent bt up n coming porn site....... titters.......... mayb ur muse used a pseudonym n recognises lana frm it bt is too embarrassed to admit they were subscribed............ mayb they happened upon her on there once n nw r jst like. what do i do w this knowledge. idk cld b fun to work around perhaps

an unrequited crush!! (either way is cool)

someone tht is just hanging out w her/using her bc she has a lot of instagram followers or they want to b signed to her dad’s label

someone in a band!! she’d probably make like penny lane n b their groupie/sleep w them all i won’t lie to u. relentless.....

umm a good influence too mayb?

honestly?? anything is fine i cld ramble for days. mayb even one of the high profile kids she grew up hangin w idk. world’s our oyster fellas!

[screamingintosilence]

A/N: I started this at 8am this morning all because I saw the Dior Homme ad with Robert Pattinson and Camille Rowe in the elevator and felt compelled to write this as a Bughead drabble. I have no regrets. Sorry I didn’t finish sooner, I actually had to do work so I don’t get fired, oops.

She had been unsuccessfully trying to ignore the hormones coursing through her body for weeks now. 

He was her boss, after all. Not only that, he was founder and CEO of the entirety of Triple S Enterprises, while she was merely his personal assistant.

It didn't help that he was deliciously gorgeous - mid-thirties, all dark, brooding looks, silky tresses that she wanted to sink her fingers into as she held his head between her thighs, a toned, lean body that she dreamed of licking whipped cream off of. 

Down girl, she chidded herself. It was far too early in the morning to be getting so worked up, especially when she had yet to even face her boss.

Betty made her way through the crowd of bustling workers in the main lobby that were vying to get into the main bank of elevators leading to the upper floors of the skyscraper. 

She thanked her lucky stars that if she had to do office work instead of her dream job of investigative journalism (thank you very much post-grad New York job market), at least she was able to land working directly for a bigwig that had the finances to lease a private elevator for his upper level staff and their assistants.

“Ms. Cooper,” a deep gravelly voice greeted her as she passed the guard station by said elevator. Gerald “Tall Boy” Petite tipped his uniform hat to her as he did every weekday morning.

“Hi Jerry!” She beamed back as he blushed. Betty was the only person besides his wife allowed to call him that because no one was immune to her Betty Cooper charm. Well, except him, she thought bitterly as her mind once again turned to the image of her boss’s devilishly handsome face.

“Boss man hasn't been in yet, ma'am,” Tall Boy - as he was referred to by nearly everyone else - informed her as she continued on toward the elevator.

“That's fine, thanks Jerry.”

She hummed to herself as the elevator doors opened, running through her mental list of things she needed to get done today and what was on the agenda for her boss as well.

While she would rather spend her days researching into leads on breaking cases, freelance writing to get her foot in door didn't pay the bills on her 1 bedroom apartment. She knew that she could downgrade to a studio, but after 4 years of college in said living arrangement, she had refused. Hence needing a full-time gig that paid well enough to cover her expenses.

Her mind drifted to her best friend Veronica's offer to let her move-in, but Betty was intent on making it on her own as a way to prove her parents wrong. Always so stubborn, it'll get you in trouble if you're not careful, her nose scrunched at the voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like her mother.

However, she did take up Veronica's offer of helping her find a job in which they would accept her Journalism degree instead of the usually preferred Business Admin one. V’s father, Hiram Lodge, was a bigwig himself and had several business associates in high places, and it was thanks to him and his connections that she found herself in her current predicament of constant arousal over Forsythe Pendelton Jones the Third.

Who knew such a pretentious sounding name could very well fit a brooding bad boy type, who thankfully was in no way an asshole to his subordinates. It was only to his business rivals that he was truly ruthless. And if Betty was being honest with herself, his domineering tone he used during those business dealings had her panties soaked. His emanating power was her ultimate weakness and she wished she could just bang her head on her desk in utter embarrassment over how her insides turned to jelly.

“Hold the door!” An all too familiar commanding voice had her hand shooting out to block the doors closing right after she heard hold.

“G’morning, Mr. Jones!” was heard. 

A rushed “Tall Boy” the only response, before the tall frame of the man who haunted her dreams and played a starring role in her dirtiest fantasies crowded the doorway of the elevator, pulling up short at the sight of his PA.

“Ms. Cooper,” his voice like velvet caressed her as she felt her nipples go hard and her breasts grow heavier from it alone. “Perfect, you’re here.” His smile nearly had her falling to her knees at his feet.

Get it the fuck together, Cooper, she berated how easily he undid her without even knowing. Or caring, the voice in her head added snappishly.

She had been late getting up this morning, which hasn’t left her enough time for her normal daily AM self-care session with her favorite vibe that she had found extremely necessary since starting at Triple S. In the month of being his PA, she hadn't missed a day, but her she was, stuck on an elevator ride with the one man she wanted to get utterly lost in.

He leaned past her, hitting the button for their floor where his office was. It was all she could do to keep breathing normally, something she regretted at once when the intoxicating scent of his cologne washed over her senses and she felt a gush of wetness at the apex of her thighs. The doors slid shut and the box started to rise.

Fuck, not now, Cooper. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a terrible idea on her part as the lace of her underwear only made the friction more intense. She could feel her arousal painting the inside of her thighs.

You're such a horny mess, she squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment. As attuned as she was to her own body, she could practically smell herself and her face flushed at the realization. She only prayed that the scent of his cologne would mask the smell from the object of her arousal.

She tugged at the hem of her shorter than normal pencil skirt, her brain once again cursing itself for sleeping through her alarm. She realized too late how terrible of an idea it was. His eyes snapped to get at the movement, taking in her form and where her garter belt peaked out from under the skirt.

She watched in horror as his nostrils flared and he took a deep breath to compose himself. It was the wrong, or right, decision on his part as he caught the unmistakable whiff of her excitement. His eyes fell shut for the briefest moment before opening once more. 

To her shock, his normally green eyes were nearly overtaken with the black of his irises blown wide. “Ms. Cooper,” his voice was so deep she could feel the vibration of it to her core.

He stepped towards her, all but backing her into the corner. Her breath caught in her throat as her chest heaved, drawing his eyes down to her cleavage that was nearly spilling out of the low cut shirt that she had thrown on in her haste to not be late. She watched as his tongue darted across his lips, a soft mewling sound dropping from her own unwittingly.

There was a soft growling sound in response as a soft “Sir” fell from her mouth. 

She could see the tether snap in his eyes as they flashed at her unbidden address, his right hand grasping the nape of her neck as his left wrapped around her waist, hauling her lithe form to his.

Their lips were millimeters apart, her eyes having fallen shut at the sensation racing through her veins. She could feel his lips hovering over hers, but moving no further. She pried her eyes open, confused by his hesitation, and then she saw it. 

The unspoken question his eyes of if this was ok, if she wanted this, if she wanted him. Her heart stuttered and her whispered “Yes” was all that was heard before his soft lips came crashing down in the most passionate kiss she’d ever experienced.

He knew how to kiss, soft pecks littered between passionate dances of his tongue tangling with hers. He tasted of the spearmint gum he chewed and tobacco of the cigarettes she had been trying to get him to quit. It was an intoxicating flavor combination and she couldn’t get enough.

Her hands had tangled in his silky hair, she noted in the back of her mind how it felt so much better than she had ever imagined, as her knee rose and hitched itself over his hip. His hand that had been around her waist dropped to her ass, pulling her somehow even closer into his embrace. His hips rocked, grinding his stiff erection into her core, the sensation causing her brain to short circuit and her lips broke away from his as her head fell back against the cool metal of the elevator box.

Uncaring that his lips were no longer on hers, they attached themselves to her neck, kissing, biting, sucking until they reached the top swells of her breast. She was moaning at each kiss, feeling like she was about to become completely boneless in his arms as her hands, still gripping his hair, pulled him tight to her bosom, never wanting this feeling to end.

She was so lost in everything he was doing, she didn't even notice the elevator starting to slow. Thankfully he was aware enough of where they were that he pulled back slightly as he felt the box of metal reaching its destination. He pecked her lips twice more, tucked her hair that had fallen out of her bun back behind her ear, and lowered her still hooked leg back to the ground.

They both straightened their clothes and hair as he folded his suit jacket which he had yet to put on over his arm to hide the evidence of how much she excited him. He gave her a quick wink before guarding his features as the elevator pinged to signal their floor and the doors slid open to reveal a matronly Ms. Grundy at the executive receptionist’s desk.

He placed a hand at the small of her lower back which caused her to shiver with delight.

“Morning Geraldine,” he greeted the older lady warmly. “Looking beautiful as ever.”

“Good morning, Gigi!” Betty added brightly.

“Morning Mr. Jones, Betty,” the lady blushed at the young CEO’s greeting.

“Please hold all my calls and reschedule any visitors for me this morning, Ms. Cooper and I have a very important last minute meeting that is expected to last for a while. I'll let you know when it's done.” Betty’s eyes flashed to him in surprise. What meeting? Did he mean? Oh God. His face gave absolutely nothing away.

“Of course, Sir. Have a wonderful day!” Her face showed absolutely no sign of suspicion and the tightness in Betty’s chest receded by a fraction. 

His hand, still pressed to her lower back, pushed her forward, ushering her down the hall. They passed her desk and he guided her into his office. His sound proof office, she reminded herself. Closing the door and flipping the lock, as an extra precaution, he guided her until her back was pressed against the mahogany and his arms were caging her in.

A cage you very much don’t mind being in, her mind was racing at all the possibilities of this unexpected turn her morning took.

“Now, Ms. Cooper, where were we?” His hooded gaze weighed down on her and she bit her lip at how his voice washed over her.

Her hands grasped his tie to pull him closer and she looked up at him through her lashes. “Mr. Jones.”

[johnna-oneal-trash-writer]

yea so i think i have a potential first chapter here

He wandered, he wandered through the trees and branching paths as he tried to come to grips with what happened before finding himself back on the main pathway. He walked, walked for what felt like miles. And then, sitting at the first bench he found, silently let tears run down his face.

 “Why?” he asked, looking up but not seeing.

For the first time in many years the robed man did something unexpected, he was entirely unsure why he did what he did. He responded. Naturally this wouldn’t be considered unusual in any way, other than the fact that this man had spent nearly everyday invisible. But something about the distraught boy sitting at the other end of the park bench compelled him. “‘Why’, what?”

The boy frowned as he turned his head revealing his puffy eyes to the stranger who he was sure had not been there recently.“Why would he do this? My best friend, he hurt them… and now I feel lost.” slumping over his knees resting his face into his hands.

“What is your name boy?” The stranger asked, unintentionally sounding more rude than polite.

“Milo,” he said.

“Well, Milo, just because someone has done something horrible, does not mean you just up and stop caring for that person.” The stranger felt as though he could have been projecting onto milo, but felt that he parted sound wisdom all the same.

“I know, but I feel as though part of me has died” the tears coming back, hid his face again.

“And that feeling will never fade.” The man shifted uncomfortably,”Milo what matters now is what you do with that feeling, use it to grow.”

The man struck a nerve, Milo wanted to scream, the feeling of suffocation and bile rising and this stomach tying and untying itself looked to the stranger with all of his strength to remain collected, found him nowhere to be seen. The robed stranger vanished, but not without a trace. A single calling card lay next to him and it read “Magical Consultation and Collaborations: William V. Hawkshaw Master Magician”.

The robed stranger had low expectations for Milo, he had fallen apart, losing something crucial and difficult to get back. As low as his expectations were, Milo had done something else unexpected, he stood up and holding the card in his fingers with calm curiosity walked away. Once again he was alone, invisible and grinning like a fool. He would watch Milo and keep an eye on him, the first person to attract his attention in over a decade was going to be his apprentice sooner or later.

Milo wandered after a time through the dusk fallen upstate town as though in a dream. He wandered downtown observing things he assumed most of the college students bar hopping would not. The small building that served as the town's museum had changed the window display this month, it was about trees or something only a few people would actually pay for admission. His eyes drifting from museums front to across the street where the most popular bar in town stood two stories tall with painted blood red brickwork trimmed with a dark green. But the only thing he paid mind to was five pentagrams at the base of the wall each roughly four feet apart. 

All the years downtown and around this bar  it was his first time noticing, intrigued he decided to have a drink here as if the establishment earned it, rather than use the front entrance he followed the wall right, through the back patio and to the rear bar inside. Where the barista was occupied with the clearly freshman college girls ordering various brightly coloured drinks that looked like something you see on television or online. She flashed a smile at the last girl ordering, finishing her drink with a practiced speed serving her glass with a discreetly added phone number.

“Hey man, what can i get’cha?” she asked, diverting her attention to Milo.

“Black Russian” he answered, sliding his cards toward her. Drink in hand Milo found a sequestered booth in the back of the room. After settling in, finally pulling out the calling card he received, addressed the matter at hand. 

“What the fuck was that?” He asked himself, maybe a bit louder than intended. No matter, it was usually quiet on Thursday, and it was more or less empty here. But he didn’t care, his very worldview was being called into question and he needed solid ground stand on. He went over the event from the park over and over again. That man was not there to begin with, he wasn’t, he was sure. But to explain his sudden appearance and disappearance was more difficult and the fact he calls himself a magician was doing little to help.

“Excuse me?” Milo ripped back to reality, looked up to see a tall blonde woman who was at least 10 years his senior and dressed in slacks and a button down. “May I sit with you?” Her voice sounded airy and correct as if correct could be an accent itself.

“Yea, by all means,” he said before taking the first sip of his drink, he noticed the ice had already begun to melt, he must have been lost in his thoughts longer than he thought. “Umm.. if I may, who are you?”

“My name is Niesha Banks, but if you would, Miss Banks.” she replied sliding into the booth opposite Milo. After a pause Miss Banks spoke,”you looked troubled.”

“So obvious?” Milo said sarcastically before sipping his slightly watered down drink.”I feel my sanity wandering today. That's why I’m here, reaffirming reality.”

“Looks to me you are hiding in a drink, maybe trying to escape something that could potentially drive anyone looney,” she smiled with a slight tilt of her head,”we all cope differently.”

“Well you're right,” he could feel his face getting red, he slid down in his seat a bit,”everyone copes differently.” Taking another drink he looked at the woman, hoping she might vanish too.

“Well are you not going to ask why I am here?” Miss Banks asked with polite expectancy.

Milo paused, drained his glass and asked,”Miss Banks, what brings you here this evening?”

“To speak with you on behalf of my employer of course,” she said matter of factly, as if he should have guessed already. Milo of course, laughed.

“Your employer?” asked Milo incredulously, he was having a bad day, Miss Banks was not helping. A thought ran across his mind, what if he is utterly delusional and he just hasn’t taken his medication  today? “Who IS your employer if may?”

“Mr. Hawkshaw of course.” learning forward and displaying a similar calling card.”would you like a job Micheal?”

At the sight of the card on the table, the hairs on the back of his head stood on end, perhaps his delusions were in another league entirely. He read about how people with diagnosed schizophrenia could have complicated hallucinations of varying intensity. This revelation nearly pushed him over the edge, like a glass on the verge of falling off the counter.

“Milo , I am no delusion, you are not insane. This is very real and I can prove it,” she said almost like she read his mind,”I am a magic user”

“There’s no such thing,” Milo mustered, almost angry. He stood up and walked out onto the patio and leaned against the railing. And Miss Banks had followed him, leaned against the rail beside him.

“Would you like a smoke?” Miss Banks asked pulling out a silver case from some concealed pocket, and removed a single black cigarette putting it to her lips and handing another to Milo. He could smell the fragrant clove in it, holding it, he acknowledged it was real. Miss Banks snapped her fingers and a small blue fire manifested on the tip of her index. Lighting her smoke, dragging deeply as she did. She then moved her finger to Milo’s cigarette, he could feel the heat, using the flame he dragged on his own smoke igniting it. He could taste the clove on his tongue and on his lips, and accepted what happened and was happening was real. 

“Ok, you have my attention,” he said before dragging deeply on his cigarette, before taking a deep breath. “what do you want with me?”

“I only know that he wants you to work for him,” she said with a sigh, “Mr. Hawkshaw is a recluse, and a successful one at that. Which is why he keeps me in his employ, he does not like to speak to anyone directly. I did not even hear from him about you.”

Confused, Milo asked, “I thought you were here on his behalf? If he didn’t say anything to you who did?”

“That is my magic Divination,” she said, “ a few times per day I may use it to discern specific things, sometimes it is precise, and others vague. I have enforced certain restrictions on it however, allowing me to divine Mr. Hawkshaw’s orders without needing to speak directly to him, even at great distances. Which is why I serve as his secretary.”

“Is that something I may learn?” asked Milo, the concept of magic was not a foreign one, however today was the first day he had seen it. He pressed further, ”or is it something you have to be born with?”

“Nearly everyone who uses magic develops a talent unique to themselves. The rules of magic are strange and enigmatic, some people can change reality with a thought others like myself can tell you a random person's dark secrets. Even the oldest, wisest individuals can come close to comprehending the true nature of magic. And then there are individuals, like yourself, introduced to only the most fundamental aspects.”

“So I may learn to use magic, but not exactly like you?” asked Milo, and stated, “My own talents could lead to something else entirely.”

“If you take the job Mr. Hawkshaw is offering, you can learn.” Miss Banks looked pleased with herself as she discarded her cigarette.

“Ok, I accept”, Milo wanted this, he would not deny it. “When do I start?”

“9 am tomorrow at the used book store on Maine, you will find an office in the back, knock and enter and you might talk with Mr. Hawkshaw himself,” she said stepping away from the rail, “ it was a pleasure meeting you” and she left.

[pantton-sandacers]

A Fantastic Journey

A/N: This is my piece for the Sanders Sides fic exchange! I wrote this for @3-has-charm I only had to use one of the prompts, but because I’m Extra I decided to combine all three. My prompts were: Prompt 1(sfw): Fantasy AU Prompt 2(sfw): They play laser tag, and take it very seriously Prompt 3(sfw): Having them be anonymous penpals, and then maybe an identity reveal I hope you enjoy! :) Read it on AO3 Summary: Virgil and Roman are anonymous pen-pals that use their familiars, Logan and Patton, to exchange letters. They play laser tag and discover some of their hidden feelings for the other. Tag List: @artisticlnsomniac @fandom-trash-5ever @mythicalquill @scaredysanders @screamingoutinrage Warnings: Vampire main character, mention of witchcraft, use of magic spells, SUPPER FLUFFY, 0 ANGST, that’s all I can think of. Word Count: 5,396 Ships: Prinxiety and Logicality. Familial Moxiety and platonic Logince.

Chapter 1: A Fantastic Beginning

Virgil floated back to his dorm room, exhausted from his long day of classes, knocking on the door, and waiting.  A few moments later Patton appeared in the door, “Heya, Virge! Come on in,” he gestured inside.

“Thanks,” Virgil mumbled, walking past Patton, throwing his book bag on the floor, and flopping down on his bed. He hated that stupid law of nature, making creatures like him unable to enter somewhere without being invited in. Even though it was his own dorm room.

“UUUUUUUGGGGHHHHHHhhhhh,” Virgil sighed into his pillow.

Patton sat on the edge of his bed after closing the door. He pat his back gently, looking at him with sympathy and related, “Same.”

“I got a new dumb assignment in lit, we’re supposed to do this anonymous pen-pal thing with another student by leaving them letters in their campus inbox.” Virgil propped himself up on his elbow, turning to look at Patton.

“Well, that sounds fun!” Patton encouraged.

“I guess, but you know I’m not a ‘people person,’ and the whole point of the assignment is to talk to a complete stranger,” Anxiety groaned.

“Well, I’m sure it won’t be that bad, how about you start on your letter? I’ll deliver it to their inbox for you if you want!”

Virgil sighed, “I guess.” He pulled out a messy sheet of notebook paper and a pen from his book bag, scribbling the message, “Hey. -V” onto the paper, folding it once and handing it to Patton, “here.”

Patton eyed the paper curiously, “Is that really all you’re gonna write? I thought the point of the assignment was to learn how to appreciate longer forms of writing in communication.”

“Ugh, look. It’s a start, okay? I’m trying my best to communicate with my social anxiety.”

Patton nodded considering this, “Alright, I’ll go take this to the inbox for you!”

Virgil chuckled, Patton was always unusually cheery, especially considering how dark and drab Virgil usually was. Though he supposed they balanced each other out in that way. He grabbed his book bag as Patton left, beginning on his other assignments.

Roman burst into this dorm room positively fluttering with excitement, “Logan!” he called out.

“Yes?” Logan answered, not looking up from his book.

“I was given a wonderful assignment in literature class today! We’re going to be appreciating forms of longer communication in writing by having anonymous pen-pals! We’ll write letters and put them in their inboxes!”

Logan looked up from his book at the mention of literature, “That sounds nice.”

“Yes! Oh, this reminds me of the older times when letter writing was the only form of long-distance communication. Letters of greeting, sadness, love, everything!” he sighed dreamily, “I cannot wait to get started!”

Roman pulled out a blank scroll, ink, and a quill pen, and began writing, in his flamboyant cursive, a letter of greeting for his pen-pal.

Logan was attempting to fit the scroll Roman wrote into the slot of the letter box on the assigned inbox when he heard a voice call out, “Hey!” followed by footsteps in his direction. He turned to face the man approaching him.

“We have the same glasses!” the other chuckled, pointing at their matching glasses.

“Yes, it would appear so,” Logan answered, unsure why this man approached him.

“I’m Patton!” a hand was extended towards Logan.

“Logan,” he responded, shaking his hand, still a bit confused.

“I noticed you were putting a scroll in my roommate’s inbox, are you by any chance my roommate’s pen pal?” he asked excitedly.

“Oh, no, but my roommate is. I’m his familiar and I’m delivering his letter to his pen-pal’s inbox for him.”

“Huh! Well, that seems familiar! ‘Cause I’m my roommate’s familiar and I’m delivering his letter to his pen-pal’s inbox for him!” Patton chuckled at his own pun.

Logan cursed the blush that crept onto his face. He didn’t understand why, but he found the other man’s laughter adorable. He turned his head so the other would not see, and luckily, Patton didn’t seem to notice. He chuckled politely in response to the joke.

“Hey, why don’t you and I just meet up in person to exchange messages? That way there won’t be as much of a time gap between our roommates’ letters to each other!” Patton suggested.

“Um, yes I suppose that would be more convenient, but how would we know when one of us had a letter to deliver?” Logan questioned.

Without hesitation, Patton answered, “I’ll give you my number!” he reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper and scribbling his number onto it.

Logan’s heart jumped a little, Did he really just offer me his number? he thought. But he quickly dismissed the idea that any romantic implications might be hiding behind it.

“Here ya’ go!” Patton smiled brightly, handing the paper with his phone number over to Logan.

“Um, th-thank you,” he stuttered nervously, putting the piece of paper into his pocket. “I will send you a message from my phone. Uh, here’s my roommate’s letter.” He handed the letter over.

“Oh! Thanks! Here’s my roommate’s letter, but, it only says, ‘Hey’...” he trailed off, looking at the folded note, “I’ll get him to write another letter in response to your roommate’s letter!” he added brightly.

“O-okay,” Logan replied, trying not to blush at Patton’s bright, sweet face.

Patton grinned, “See ya’ later!” he walked off back to his dorm room, leaving Logan pink faced, and very confused.

Chapter 2: Logan’s crush

Logan entered his dorm room again, still bewildered by all of these feelings he was experiencing. He sat down slowly at his desk, his hands in his hair, palms pressed against his head.

Logan was so consumed by his thoughts that he only barely noticed Roman asking, “Are you alright, Logan?”

“Oh, um, yeah, I’m,” he turned around to look at his roommate, he sighed wearily, “I honestly don’t know.”

Roman scooted his chair closer to Logan, “What’s wrong?” concern heavy in his face.

Logan propped his chin up with his elbow on his desk. “It’s... I met the familiar of your pen-pal, his name was Patton. He saw me putting your letter in an inbox, recognized the inbox as his roommate’s, walked up, and he started a conversation with me.

“Patton made a joke about how our situations were familiar because he was also a familiar delivering his roommate’s note to his pen-pal’s inbox. He chuckled at his joke and... my face... got warm? And my heart started beating fast? I... don’t know what happened...” his voice trailed off.

“Well, it sounds to me, like you were blushing,” Roman offered.

Logan rolled his eyes, “Well I know that, but what I don’t understand is... why I was blushing...”

“Well, you said you blushed when he laughed, so you probably thought his laughter was cute.”

“But... why?”

Roman sighed, he placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Love is a mystery, my friend. No one can truly tell why or how it happens. The best we can do is just accept it.”

Logan jumped from his seat at this, “Y-you, you think I’m in love?!?!!!”

“Well, maybe not ‘in love,’ but you likely have a crush, and there’s nothing wrong with that!”

Logan slowly began to pace the floor, “W-what do I do? I’ve never had a crush on anyone before.”

“Well, firstly, you might ask him for his phone number,” Roman replied simply.

Logan froze, eyes lighting up as he stared ahead, “He gave me his phone number,” he whispered to himself softly, remembering.

“That’s wonderful! He likes you back!” Roman cheered.

“N-no no no, not like that. We simply agreed it would be easier for us to meet up in person to exchange letters from our roommates rather than checking the inboxes occasionally for new messages.” Logan grabbed his phone from its place on the counter as he pulled out the paper with Patton’s number. “He proposed that, so we knew when there was a new message for us to collect, that we exchange phone numbers and text each other.”

“And he was the one that proposed the idea of the two of you meeting in person again?”

“Y-yes,” Logan stammered, typing the number into his phone, adding the contact “Patton.”

“Well, that means he wants to see you again!”

“I-I hardly doubt that...” Logan dismissed before considering, “Do you really think so?”

“Of course! Why don’t you send him a text?”

Logan nodded, sitting down again. He sent the message.

L: “Is this Patton?”

“Really?” Roman questioned, “That’s what you’re going to send? A bit dull don’t you think?”

“It’s important to confirm that I texted the correct number before I send anything personal.”

Roman sighed, then his eyes darted to the phone, “Look! He’s responding!”

Logan’s eyes were glued to his phone, anxiously waiting for his reply.

It sent.

P: “Yes! Is this Logan?”

L: “Yes, this is Logan.”

P: “Heeeey!!! :D”

The last message made Logan blush, why was this strangely cheery man making him so... flustered?

Roman glanced at the clock, “Well, I have a night class I need to get to,” he stood up, “I wish you the best of luck in winning this man’s heart,” he smiled, grabbed his book bag, and left before Logan could protest.

Logan hoped he could get through this without embarrassing himself.

Roman was always one to be very in-touch with his emotions, especially his romantic feelings. He was a very emotional person by nature. Logan, however, was not one for emotions, they complicated things too much for him. Logan thought of emotions as mere distractions, confusing and consuming his every thought.  But in the end, they balanced each other out.

Chapter 3: Patton’s crush

Patton did his best to contain his excitement until he was back in his dorm, and when he closed the door, he leaned up against it, a wide grin on his flushed face.

“Hey, Pat.” Virgil greeted, not looking up from his homework.

Patton started giggling, causing Virgil to look up curiously, “Pat?”

Patton started jumping up and down and flapping his arms in excitement. He turned into his avian form and began to fly around the room.

Virgil scrambled to hold down the papers attempting to fly away from his bed, stirred up by Patton’s flight, “Patton, what’s gotten into you?”

Patton landed, turning into a human again, arms still flapping, “I met a really cute boy,” he singsonged, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh. Nice,” Virgil replied, looking back at his work, “what’s his name?”

“Logan...” Patton sighed dreamily as he stared at the ceiling, face still flushed as he lied on his bed, “I saw him trying to put...” Patton pulled the scroll out of his pocket and tossed it over to Virgil’s bed, “-this in your inbox, so I went over and asked if he was your pen-pal.

“He said his roommate was your pen-pal, and he was his roommate’s familiar. He was dropping his roommate’s letter off for him, so I made a pun about how that seemed familiar because that’s what I was doing! And when I told my pun HE BLUSHED!!! HE TRIED TO COVER IT UP BUT I SAW OUT OF THE CORNER OF MY EYES! HE LIKES MY PUNS, HE THINKS I’M CUTE AAAAAAA!!!!” Patton screamed into his pillow.

Virgil chuckled, placing his textbooks aside as he prepared to read the letter, “Did you get his number?” he joked.

“No, but I gave him mine! And he said he’d text me!!” Patton gasped as he remembered this, pulling out his phone and staring at it.

“Don’t expect him to reply immediately, he’s probably still on his way back to his dorm room,” Virgil commented.

Patton pouted, setting his phone down. “I guess... I said it’d be easier for us to meet up in person to exchange letters, and I gave him my number so we could text each other when we had letters to exchange. I hope he knew I was trying to get a chance to see him more often...”

Virgil shrugged, “Rather than staring at your screen why don’t you come over here and read this letter with me,” he scooted over on his bed to make room for Patton.

“Okay,” Patton joined him, phone still in his hand.

Virgil untied the red ribbon wrapped around the scroll before unrolling it to read its message.

“Greetings, pen-pal! I wish to tell you my name, but this assignment is meant to remain anonymous, so you may refer to me as “Prince.” I am a Fairy Knight Majoring in Folk magic, I’m 20 years old, he/him pronouns, bisexual, and single, (so you could say I’m... on stand-bi or I’m... bi myself at the moment!) I look forward to our many future exchanges, new friend! ~Sincerely, Prince ;) <3”

Virgil rolled his eyes, whoever his pen-pal was, he sure was dramatic.

“I like this guy already, those are some nice puns!” Patton chuckled.

Virgil set the note aside, resuming his school work.

“Um, aren’t you gonna write a reply?” Patton asked.

“Yeah, later though,” Virgil answered simply, not bothering to look up from his schoolwork.

“Oh, okay...” Patton’s let twitched, causing the bed they were sitting on to bounce.

“What?” Virgil asked, irritated.

“It’s just... I reeeeally wanna have an excuse to see Logan again!” Patton pouted.

“He hasn’t even texted you yet! How can yo-“

Ding.

Patton stared down at his phone, reading the text

L: Is this Patton?

Patton replied to the text almost immediately,

P: Yes! Is this Logan?

L: Yes, this is Logan.

“He just texted me!!!” Patton beamed at Virgil before sending.

P: Heeeey!!! :D

Virgil sighed, “Okay, I’ll write a reply so you can see your crush.”

Patton hugged Virgil from the side, “Thank you!!!” He raced back to his bed, jumping onto it excitedly, and waiting for a reply.

L: Hello.

P: How are you? :)

L: I’m doing fine, how are you?

P: I’m doing well. :)

-Logan’s heart stopped, Patton’s smile could brighten up any room, and he knew the difference between ‘good’ and ‘well!’ Logan was absolutely falling for this man.

L: That’s nice.

“Okay, Patton, here’s my letter, go meet your boyfriend,” Virgil held out the letter towards Patton.

Patton jumped up, taking the letter in his hand, “Thanks! Also, he’s not my boyfriend... yet” he added with a giggle. He texted Logan excitedly,

P: I got a letter for your roommate! Do you wanna meet up by the fountain?

L: Alright.

P: Great! I’m on my way!

Patton put his phone in his pocket and walked as fast as he could to meet Logan again.

Chapter 4: First “date”?

Logan was determined to keep the pink off his face, but as soon as he saw Patton eagerly awaiting his arrival, his blush crept back onto his cheeks.

“Hey, Logan!” Patton waved.

“Hello, Patton.”

“Here’s the letter from my roomie,” he handed him the note.

“Thank you,” Logan put the note in his bag, “My roommate is attending a night class at the moment, so I likely won’t have another note for you until tomorrow.”

“Oh! Well, if you don’t have to get back to your dorm to get the note to him right now, and if you don’t have anything else to do, why don’t we hang out together?” Patton suggested, smiling.

“I, um, I don’t see why not,” Logan tried to remark casually, but Patton could tell how happy he was to spend more time with him.

“Great!” he grinned, “There’s a really cool combined coffee shop and library place downtown we could go to if you want!”

“That sounds nice,” Logan smiled, nodding.

“Awesome! Let’s go!” Patton turned into his avian form and took off in the direction of the coffee shop. Logan flew nearby him, hoping the wind on his face would cool it down and make his blush disappear, but it didn’t.

Roman looked up from his schoolwork as Logan entered the room, “Greetings, I was wondering where you flew off to!”

“I-I think I went on a date...” Logan stammered, staring blankly ahead of him as he leaned against their closed door.

“Ooh! Romance, do tell!” Roman leaned forward, his interest piqued.

“W-well, I saw Patton, he gave me a note from your pen-pal, and I mentioned you were at a night class. He said that we should hang out since I couldn’t get the note back to you immediately, and we went to a coffee shop and library place and we just... talked, for a while. It was nice spending time with him, but I don’t know if it was a ‘date’ or not.”

“Did he kiss you?”

“No.”

“Did you hold hands?”

“No.”

“Did he hug you?”

“No.”

“Did he mention anything about it being a date?”

“No... I guess I just wanted it to be a date. We were probably just hanging out...”

“Aw, well don’t feel so down! I’m sure he wanted to get to know you better before asking you out on an official ‘date,’”

Logan nodded his head, “Yeah, maybe...”

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe I heard you had a note for me...?” Roman asked with an eyebrow raised, grinning eagerly.

“Oh, yes,” he pulled the note from his bag, handing it to him, “here.”

Roman jumped up excitedly, taking the note from Logan’s hand, and reading it over.

“Hey, Princey. You can call me V. I’m a Vampire majoring in Witchcraft, I’m also 20, he/him. That’s pretty much all there is to me, so, write to ya’ later. –V”

“Oh, he seems so charming! I can’t wait to reply to him!” he eagerly grabbed an empty scroll, some ink, and his quill pen, and began to write a response for his pen-pal.

Chapter 5: Just a Harmless Prank

Virgil came back to his dorm the next afternoon to see Patton sitting, pink-faced and smiling on his bed as he tried to focus on his schoolwork. Virgil raised his eyebrow, “Do you have another note for me?”

Patton nodded, handing him the note as he grinned, still thinking about how Logan’s hand brushed his as he handed the note to him.

Virgil untied the ribbon on the scroll, reading it over.

“Greetings, V! I am glad to be writing with you! You seem like a V nice person! (Get it? Because V is an abbreviation for “very!”) I have a question for you, and you do not have to reply to it if it is too personal, but, are you single? I wish to know in the case that I flirt with you and make your partner jealous. I am a bit of a flirt by nature, and I simply cannot help it. ~Sincerely, Princey ;) <3”

“Hey, Princey. No, I don’t have a partner, but if I did, he wouldn’t be the one you needed to worry about if you flirted with me. If you tried to flirt with me I’d probably cast a spell on you so you couldn’t take 2 steps without tripping for the next few hours or so. :) –V”

Roman read over his letter from his pen pal, “I don’t have a partner, but if I did, he...” “he...”

“How wonderful! A fellow queer!” Roman thought to himself, before dragging out his extravagant supplies to compose a response.

It was rather funny how different the two were in simply their forms of writing.

Roman would think over each word until its sequence was so flawless he’d managed to memorize it, copying it onto a scroll with a quill and ink, tying it in a ribbon once the ink dried.

Virgil, however, didn’t care if his response had the occasional crossed out word or scribble of pen on paper to test the ink, hastily replying on scrap sheets of notebook paper he had lying around so that Patton could deliver his response and see Logan sooner.

They were both quite different, but, in a way, they balanced each other out...

“Dear, V, Well you are quite the gloomy goober, aren’t you? I find your response to my last message to be V cute! You seem like such a nice person, I doubt you’d actually cast a clumsiness spell upon me for flirting with you. I look forward to messaging you more, ~Sincerely, Princey ;) <3”

Virgil smirked and chuckled lightly at Princey’s response, “Well now, if he’s going to challenge me like that, then I have no choice,” he smirk grew into an evil grin as he began to search for a certain potion he had in mind...

The next note Roman received was in an envelope, which was quite strange considering all of Virgil’s previous notes had been mere scribbles on notebook paper. Even stranger was when Roman opened the envelope and it emitted a small puff of smoke. The only written message on the note was an ‘upside-down smiling face’ with the signature “–V” accompanying it.

Roman was moving to his desk with letter-writing supplies to compose a response when he unnaturally tripped on absolutely nothing and fell face flat on the floor. He scoffed in great offense, with a hint of mild amusement, at the actions of his pen pal. Whether he realized it or not, he actually smirked a little, he thought it was cute how mischievous his pen pal was.

“Dear, V, I hope you find enjoyment in knowing my white pants are absolutely ruined from falling on the floor so much, and my hair is completely out of place from the sudden ‘wooshes’ of landing on the ground. However, I find your antics to be charming, in their own, devious way, Hot Topic. ~Sincerely, Princey ^‘3 <3”

“Dear, Princey, how terrible! However shall you go on with your hair out of place and a bit of dust on your clothes!/s Get over it, Pretty Boy, you can stand a little dirt on your outfit and wind in your hair. In other words, check your ego, amigo. Also, ‘Hot Topic’? Aw, you think I’m hot, that’s cute./s –Hot Topic”

“Dear, Hot Topic, ‘Pretty Boy’? Does this mean you think I’m pretty? <3 And yes, I do find you hot... somehow, ;) I rather like the nickname, ‘Pretty Boy,’ I think I will be using this from now on... ~Sincerely, Pretty Boy “3 <3”

Virgil rolled his eyes as he forced the blush in his face to go down. “Geez, I knew he was a flirt but I didn’t know he was that much of a flirt.”

“Sounds to me like someone has a crush!” Patton teased.

Virgil scoffed, “He probably says that to everyone he meets.”

“I meant, it seems like you have a crush on him!” Patton explained.

“Wh-! No! I barely know the guy.”

“Well, ya’ did call him ‘pretty boy’ in your last note, so...”

“It’s not like that, Patton, I was just mocking how self-absorbed he is.”

“And there’s another thing, for someone who’s so self-absorbed, wouldn’t it really mean something for him to call someone else, more specifically, you ‘hot’?”

“He doesn’t even know what I look like, why would it mean anything if he called me ‘hot’? Never mind that, why would he call me hot if he did know what I look like,” his face heated up, maybe it was from the black hoodie he was wearing or maybe it was from thinking about his new nickname and the words of his pen-pal.

“Maybe he thinks your insides are hot,” Patton suggested.

“My insides?”

“Yeah! Maybe he finds your spicy personality hot!” he made jazz hands.

Virgil slowly shook his head, “don’t ever call me ‘spicy’ again.”

“Aw, okay.”

“But like... I don’t even know him that well, you can’t just get a crush on someone you barely know!”

Patton blushed, looking off and thinking about Logan, “Well...” he chuckled, grinning like an idiot.

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Okay, so you can, but I’m not like that! I have to get to know the person first!”

“Alright, but whether or not you have a crush on him, he totally has a crush on you!” Patton gasped, “You should invite him to the laser tag meet up next week!”

“Patton, the pen-pal thing is supposed to be anonymous.”

“Yeah! But the assignment will be over by then! And you can meet each other in person!”

“That’s... true. Alright, I’ll invite him,” Virgil scribbled the invite onto his reply before handing the letter to Patton, “If I’m inviting Princey you should invite Logan.”

“Oh, do you I should ask him out on a date?”

Virgil shrugged, “I mean, that’s up to you, whatever feels right.”

Patton was silent for a moment, “Alright, I’ll go take this to Logan!” he smiled, then closed the door behind him.

Chapter 6: Asking

Patton hummed to himself as he walked, scanning the hall for Logan, until he spotted him, “Hey, Logan!” he grinned.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan smiled. Seeing a small blush splash across Logan’s face only made Patton more confident.

“Here’s the letter!” he handed the reply over.

“Thank you,” Logan placed the reply in his bag.

“Um, there’s some people planning a laser tag meet up next week, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?” he asked nervously.

Logan thought for a moment, then nodded his head, “Yes, I think it would be an interesting experience.”

Patton beamed, “Great! It’s a date then!”

Logan’s face went red, “Wh-what do you mean, ‘a date’... what kind of ‘date’?”

“Oh, um, well..” Patton looked away from Logan, face flushed with embarrassment, he’d been so sure that Logan liked him back, but now he had doubts, “If you wanted to... I was kinda hoping that, it could be... a, romantic, date, for you and me?” He looked at Logan with a glimmer of hope but overwhelming fear of rejection in his eyes.

“Y-yes. I would like that very much,” Logan answered almost subconsciously with complete honesty.

Patton sighed in relief, looking back at Logan and grinning brightly, “Great! I’m glad to hear that! I’ll um, I’ll text you later!” he placed a gentle kiss on Logan’s cheek before near-skipping back to his dorm room.

Logan’s grin was wide when he opened the door to his dorm room, he began to giggle, pulling Roman’s attention from doing makeup, “Logan? What happened?”

The smile on Logan’s face only grew as he answered, “Patton asked me out.”

“He did! That’s wonderful! Oh, I am so happy for you!... You did say yes, correct?”

Logan nodded his head, “He asked me out, kissed my cheek, and went back to his dorm room,” he giggled, lying on his bed, completely flustered, but glad about it for once.

“That’s amazing, and I’m assuming you have a letter for me?” Roman added, eagerly.

Logan pulled out the letter, handing it to Roman, who grabbed it, excitedly reading it over.

“Dear, Pretty Boy, I’ve never seen your face, I have no idea how ‘pretty’ or ugly you are. There’s a laser tag meet up next week when this ‘pen-pal’ assignment is over. If you want to, we could meet up there, and then I could tell you where you stand on a scale from 1-10. –Hot Topic”

Roman grinned at this invitation, excitedly writing a reply.

“Dear, Hot Topic, I will gladly attend this ‘laser tag meet up’ and I look forward to meeting you in person! ~Sincerely, Pretty boy ;) <3”

Chapter 7: Laser Tag

In their last letters to each other, they exchanged phone numbers, both agreeing not to send any selfies, wanting their face reveals to be done in person.

V: Where are you, pretty boy? The game’s about to begin.

P: I’ll be there soon! Go on in without me!

V: Okay, whatever.

Virgil put his phone in his pocket, grabbing the blue laser tag pack and inputting the nickname “Hot Topic” to his shooter.

“Ready to go, Patton?... Patton?” he turned around to see his roommate gazing and blushing at his new boyfriend, sitting across the table from him as they held hands. Virgil rolled his eyes, smirking a little. “Hey, Pat, I’m gonna go on inside, okay?”

Patton only nodded in response, never taking his eyes off his partner who sat, grinning sheepishly across from him. Virgil chuckled and proceeded inside.

After a few minutes of waiting, the crowd had grown so much he knew he would never be able to find princey among all the people before the game started, he’d have to meet him afterward.

Roman ran up to the laser tag place just in time, grabbing the last red pack available and inputting the nickname “Pretty Boy” to his shooter. The doors opened and everyone flooded in, he supposed he would have to find Virgil after the game.

“Patton, we’re on two different teams, we can’t be holding hands throughout the game!” Logan stated.

“But I wanna hold hands with you! It’s our first date!” Patton protested, pouting.

“I understand that, I want to hold hands with you too, but strategically speaking, it’s-“

Patton shot Logan with his laser, “Got you!” he shouted before running off.

“Wh-! Hey!” Logan chased after him, laughing.

Patton was rather childish at times, which was very different in comparison to Logan’s normal, serious nature. Though, Patton was helping Logan to loosen up, little by little, and enjoy life more overall. In the end, they balanced each other out quite well.

Meanwhile, Virgil was taking this game very seriously, he used his inability to be seen in mirrors to his advantage, sneaking up behind others, hitting them when they least expected it. Every now and then he would turn into his bat form, his laser tag pack transforming with him as he shrank. He would observe the game from upside down, scoring himself many points.

Roman was enjoying himself quite well, he considered this game a walk in the park compared to challenges he’d faced before. Being so skilled in stealth he was easily able to hide in secluded areas, hitting people when they least expected it, though there was some sort of sniper that he could never see that kept hitting him. It was almost as if this person wasn’t even on the ground at all...

The game ended and everyone went to check the scoreboard. Virgil walked over, pulling out his phone.

V: Game ended, where are you?

He heard a ding from the pocket of the person next to him, they typed a reply out of the corner of his eyes as he looked at the scoreboard, ignoring the coincidence. Virgil located his nickname at the top of the scoreboard, tied with someone else, he was about to see who, when the person next to him hit send, making his own phone ding.

P: Looking at the scoreboard, where are you?

V: I’m at the scoreboard too, guess which place I’m in >:)

The man next to him scanned the scoreboard, gasping lightly when he located the nicknames “Hot Topic” and “Pretty Boy” at the top.

P: We’re tied for first! Good game!

Virgil looked up, confirming that they were, in fact, tied for first.

V: Good game. Can we meet up now? I wanna see you in person.

P: Absolutely! I wish to see you in person too! I’m the one wearing the prince attire with a Red sash!

Virgil rolled his eyes, chuckling.

V: Tad extra don’t you think?

He looked around to spot him when he realized he’d been standing next to him the entire time.

V: Dude... to you right.

Roman turned to his right, all his breath leaving him as he saw Virgil.

Time stopped as Roman soaked in the appearance of the man next to him, his beautiful black hair falling perfectly over his deep hazel eyes as his cheeks blushed, freckles standing out against the pink of his skin.

“Great Odin’s eyepatch... you’re so much more beautiful than I ever could’ve imagined,” he breathed.

Virgil blushed looking away, “You’re not too bad yourself, pretty boy,” he smirked.

Roman grinned, offering his hand for the other to hold, looking over at Patton and Logan, “Do you want to make this a double date?” he asked.

Virgil chuckled, taking Roman’s hand and nodding, “Yeah, sure.”

Roman smiled, “I’m Roman, by the way.”

“Virgil.”                                                          

“Well, Virgil, I look forward to our many future exchanges, boyfriend,” he winked at Virgil before they joined the other couple at their table.

~The End!~

[just-a-re-blog]

Seeking Oenomel Chapter 3

Wowie wow, you all are the greatest readers--70 notes on Chapter 1, and the numbers are still climbing on both Chapters 1 and 2! I’m so grateful for every single one of you, and I can’t tell you how much it means that you’re interested in the work I put out here on Tumblr. Your readership means as much to me as if Min Yoongi himself read my stories. I love you all. Thank you so much.

~HMR

1 2 3

The dining hall V leads you to buzzes with energetic chatter bouncing off the ocean blue walls. Dozens of young men and women sitting at white tables scrape forks along plates and chuckle lightly. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn you were back in one of your old university’s cafeterias.

He holds his arms out, gesturing to the space. “Here it is--the legendary scramble.” He turns back to look at you and smiles. “We can go sit with some of my friends, if you’d like.” You nod, not sure you have a better option.

V sits down at a table with five other boys and pats the seat next to him. You sit down uncomfortably, crossing your legs under the table.

“Ah, she lives!” a boy with platinum hair exclaims. You recognize his high voice as the other man from your apartment, the tenor tone engraved in your memory like the soundtrack from a horror movie. A shiver runs up your spine.

“She sure does. And she just calmed down, so try not to get her freaked out again, okay, Jimin?” V taps the table. “Y/N, this is is Jimin.” He points around the table with each introduction. “These guys are Yoongi, Kyungsoo, Minghao, and Jun.” Most of them wave, but one black-haired boy just scowls at V before looking at you curiously, a hint of skeptical analysis in his eyes. “Guys, this is Y/N.”

The boy V called Minghao laughs. “Everyone knows who she is, V.” He looks at you warmly. “I mean, we’ve kind of been on her security detail for the last three weeks.”

“Excuse me for being polite.” V shrugs in submission before looking at you. “I’m gonna go grab you some food, okay? A wrap and some fruit sound good?” You nod. “Alright. I’ll be back in a minute.” He winks and heads towards the kitchen.

And leaves you alone with five gang members.

“So, now the two of us officially meet--you’re the infamous Y/N,” Jimin says, chewing a piece of toast and leaning back in his chair. “You already talked to the big guys, right? Got everything explained?”

“Y-Yes.”

“You gonna stay?”

You look at your hands in your lap. “I don’t know,” you answer honestly.

“Hey, don’t look so scared. It’s nice here,” Jimin says gently, sitting up to look at you more directly. “I promise we don’t bite.” It seemed these boys liked to make a lot of promises. You just have no idea if you can put any stake in their sincerity. “You’ll like staying with us, I think. It’s really safe, and we can teach you a lot about how to protect yourself. And everybody is pretty cool, honestly.”

“He’s right,” Jun insists. The contrast of his angular features compared to Jimin’s soft ones catches you by surprise. “I mean, as far as gangs go, Sigma is very lively, trust me. You’ll fit right into the family.” He flicks his head to clear his indigo bangs from his face.

Your eyes narrow at the mention of family, but then you suppose a bunch of kids who kill together stay together.

“So, do you have any questions?” Minghao asks, stabbing a piece of egg on his plate. “Anything you want to know about before you make your decision?” You shake your head quickly, and Minghao looks slightly disappointed. “Well, if you think of anything, just let one of us know, okay?”

A stifling silence settles over your table. The boys eat and finally resign to talk amongst themselves and let you wallow in your gloomy self-pity. V returns a few minutes later with two trays of food and sits next to you, effortlessly breathing life into the hushed conversation. You pick at the food before you, and while your stomach is grateful for sustenance, you fear you won’t be able to keep anything down if you eat as ravenously as you want to.

You tune back into the conversation when you hear V say your name. “Sound good, Y/N?”

“What?”

“I said that we would help you bring over anything you wanted from your apartment so you would feel more comfortable. Does that sound good?”

Irritation fights its way into your tone past your lingering sense of confused fear. “Who said I’m staying?”

He looks wounded. “You mean you’re really thinking about leaving?”

“I-I don’t...I really don’t know. But this is just--it’s so much, and I...” You trail off as Yoongi stands, his dark, piercing eyes finding yours again from under his black hair.

“I don’t understand why this is so hard for you.” His voice holds no sympathy. “There’s no reason for you to be so conflicted and indecisive.”

V puts down his silverware. “Yoongi--”

“Don’t use my real name with her. For all we know she’ll be gone tomorrow and at the mercy of the Blackguards by the end of next week.”

“She wouldn’t tell--”

“Tell me you’re not still that naive, V,” he says tiredly, rubbing his face. “Tell me that after what Lay went through, you don’t really believe that revealing our identities is a risk-free move.” V looks away in shame. Yoongi refocuses his attention on you, and you want to hide as his gaze brings color to your cheeks. “Look, we’ve gone out of our way to offer you shelter so you can stay alive and have some semblance of peace of mind. But you’d rather throw that away for whatever stupid reason you’ve convinced yourself is valid. That’s idiotic. The way I see it, you can either choose to develop a case of Stockholm Syndrome or you can hear our warnings in your head right before a Blackguard interrogator puts a bullet through it.” He picks up his plate with a shrug as if that bluntness should clear all the fog obscuring your sense of reason. “Seems like a pretty black-and-white choice to me.”

He turns on his heel and walks out of the dining hall, leaving your pale, shaking figure in the wake of his harsh advice. You breathe hard, scrambling to collect your thoughts.

Jimin leans forward. “Listen, Y/N, I’m really sorry about that.” His eyes flash to V. “I’m gonna go talk to him. I’ll see you tonight at the debrief.”

V nods and stacks your half-full plate on top of his. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s go walk around a bit.”

You move mechanically, eyes still fixed on the exit where Yoongi disappeared.

He’d made it seem so easy, so simple. But could life caught between gangs ever boil down to anything easy? Everything in you screams the answer to that question, and yet you can’t suppress the feeling that maybe here, things would be just the slightest bit less hard.

V becomes more and more animated with every stop he makes along your tour of the complex, reveling in the chance to be able to share the ins and outs of the place he calls home. You, on the other hand, become more and more lethargic, the fact that you’ve been up for almost 24 hours with so many adrenaline spikes weighing heavily on your mind and body. You try your best to smile at V every time he enthusiastically describes a new feature of the floor plan, but the expression hardly reaches your eyes.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for one day, yeah?” He chuckles. “You look like you’re about to pass out any second.”

He leads you through a maze of hallways to a much quieter wing of the building and pulls out his cell phone. “Excuse me for just a second.” He dials a number and you lean against the wall, slipping down to the floor as he carries on his conversation. Head tilting to the side, you notice the camera mounted in the main hall. You smile tentatively at it, but you are sure the expression is closer to a grimace.

A door opens to your right and a girl in a snug blue tank top and pajama pants steps out, arms stretched over her head as she smiles and waves at V. She turns to close her door and catches sight of you. Her eyebrows shoot up, and she ventures a bewildered smile.

“Oh, uh, hi,” she says quietly, glancing over her shoulder at V as she twists her key in her door’s lock. She slips the key in her pocket and looks your disheveled form up and down. “Are you Chevron?”

Your eyebrows furrow at the recurrence of the nickname. “I-I don’t…”

She smiles knowingly. “Taemin’s ex?” Heat rises in your cheeks as you nod and attempt to ignore the clenching of your chest. Her smile broadens, off-white teeth bared. “Well, welcome to Sigma.”

V walks over, his call ended, and puts a hand on the girl’s shoulder, grinning. “Annie, you’re not out of your pajamas yet?”

She rolls her eyes playfully and shrugs. “I don’t patrol until 3. I’ve got time to kill.” You cringe at her word choice, but if Annie sees it, she doesn’t react.

“Lunch shift starts in 20 minutes. You slept through breakfast, sleepyhead.”

She ducks away from V when he tries to ruffle her hair. “Don’t worry about it, Taehyung.” She looks at you apologetically. “I’m sorry he’s like this. You’ll grow to love him eventually.” One hand on her hip, she shoves V with rough jest and he wraps his arms around her waist, spinning her once before setting her on her feet and pushing her back.

She looks back to you as she struggles to suppress the obvious delight she took in V’s antics. “Do you need a place to stay tonight? Because you’re more than welcome to sleep in my room.” Your eyes widen, and you almost say yes before you think about where you are and who Annie might really be and what Annie might really have done, and suddenly you are afraid there may be blood permanently ground into her sheets. You shake your head stiffly.

“No, thank you,” you manage to croak around the dry nausea rising in your throat.

She frowns a little. “Are you sure? You won’t have to worry about making the bed or anything.”

You nod stiffly. “Yeah, I think I’d like some time to myself tonight.”

“That’s fair.” She smiles brightly. “Well, I’m going to go get a little something to eat then.”

V’s brow furrows. “Are you going like that? Jihoon’s not going to be able to keep his eyes off you, you know.”

She rolls her eyes and turns around dramatically, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Tae, darling, I’ll eat lunch dressed in whatever I please.”

She reaches down to shake your hand, and you mirror her action weakly before she saunters down the hall with stunning confidence. V stares after her with a dazed expression, eyes clouded and mouth quirked up in a small smile. You look up at his swaying figure.

Even with fatigue tearing down your conversational filters and all your barriers against humanizing the man before you, you manage to surprise yourself with your forwardness. “Do you like her?”

V blinks rapidly, looking down to you with confusion. “Oh, I-I, um…” He clears his throat, crimson spreading across the bridge of his nose at the same rate his grin grows. “Yes. Yes, I do. She’s...she’s pretty phenomenal.”

“Does she know?”

He chuckles to himself. “She’s too smart not to. But she’s always focused on her next mission. No time for anything beyond ‘conceal, point, shoot.’ It’s simpler this way. Neater. We’ve all seen what happens when we feel beyond our sense of duty, beyond our senses of brother and sisterhood.” The darkness haunting the end of his sentence rattles you, and you recede into your silence.

A few minutes later, a tall boy with big eyes and a thin scar tracing his cheek rounds the corner carrying a stack of clothes, a golden key dangling from his long, ringed fingers. V greets the man cheerily, and you stand to meet him. The stranger lays his light load in your outstretched arms with a gentle smile, and it seems like your body gains a thousand pounds with the addition. He unlocks the door across the hall from Annie’s room.

“Thanks, Chanyeol,” V says, shaking the man’s hand firmly.

He swivels to you and says in a low voice, “Hope you’ll stick around with us. At least until this all calms down.” You press your lips together tightly and nod.

And then Chanyeol is gone, and V is holding the door open for you.

“Do you want any help getting set up?” he offers helpfully, surveying the neat room.

“No, thanks.” You set the clothes on the edge of the white-sheeted bed.

“Alright then.” V sets the dully sparkling key on your bedside table. “If you need anything at all, just knock on one of these doors, okay? There’s only girls in this wing, so hopefully that will make you feel a little more comfortable. If there’s anything you want me for, any of them down here will be able to get in touch with me. Get some rest, Y/N. You’ve had a long 24 hours.”

He waves before shutting the door and leaving you alone. Getting into your temporary pajamas is like slogging through molasses, tired limbs taking a hundred seconds to move an inch, exhausted mind refusing to let you think about all the unknowns surrounding you any longer. The bed is warm and welcoming. The mattress curls around the curves of your body like a kind hand, and you gratefully sink into its depths as sleep overtakes your senses.

You wake up at an odd time when you should still be asleep, all-nighter and adrenaline surges rewiring your body clock. Too awake in a strange place at a strange hour, you turn onto your side and run your hand over the pillows thoughtfully. How many thieves had slept in this bed? How many criminals? How many murderers? You shudder and slide out from between the covers.

You run the faucet of the tiny bathroom tucked into the corner of the space and gratefully splash the warm water onto your face. Did blood money pay these water bills? A groan escapes your lips. You are surrounded by the reality of being in a gang’s headquarters; there’s no way to bury it in your subconscious, no way to look past it. Yoongi’s voice pierces your thoughts. Reason and instinct battle morals and ethics in the arena of your skull.

Tears loosen the last bits of pathos fluttering through your judgement, and you find yourself sobbing with reckless abandon on the bathroom’s tiles.

“I don’t understand why this is so hard for you.”

You pray for time to reverse. You devote everything in you to wishing for a chance to go back and never meet Lee Taemin.

“I promise you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I give you my word that no one in this organization wants any harm to come to you.”

Your heart clenches with a thousand regrets for the innocent times past as you hate Sigma and hate Yoongi and hate Taemin and hate every step of life that led you to this place.

“But we’ve been watching you, keeping an extra eye out for you, and we can protect you here.”

“However, I want to be completely clear. If you leave, there’s nothing more we can do for you.”

“I mean, as far as gangs go, Sigma is very lively, trust me. You’ll fit right into the family.”

You sniff and get to your feet slowly, running your hands roughly across your face.

“Seems like a pretty black-and-white choice to me.”

Flicking off the dim light, you shuffle your socked feet through your new room to the door and down the hall. A part of you cries out in disapproval, fights desperately against the robotic drive that has you pressing forward, but with every step, the overwhelming urge to follow through squashes your doubt.

After a handful of wrong turns and dead ends, you find yourself at the office of the bosses. Light streams through the gaps in the doorframe. Your shaking hand knocks on the wood. You stand there a second before you are ushered in.

Namjoon sits behind the imposing desk looking drained, his clothes seemingly colorless, the dark circles under his eyes prominently illuminated in the lamplight.

“Y/N. What can I do for you? Have you come to a decision?” He folds his hands calmly in front of him with an air of certainty.

You lick your dry lips. “I’m staying.”

He nods once curtly. “Welcome to Sigma, Y/N.”

It takes a while for you to make your way back to your room, and when you end up in the right hallway, you tap Annie’s door quietly. She answers faster than should be possible, and you wonder if she had been sitting in the dark as awake as you.

“Y/N?” she whispers. You say nothing in response. “Do you want to come in?” she finally asks.

You don’t register what your own answer to the question is, but Annie pulls you into her room and helps you into bed, making sure the covers are in place around your unconsciously shivering form before slipping in next to you.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” she coos softly, caressing your arms and rubbing her thumb into your skin soothingly. “You’re safe here. Everything’s going to be okay.”

And eventually, her chant falls away into a lullaby, and you fall into a black, dreamless sleep.

[urabitea]

       “YOU DON’T HAVE to fuss over me this much, Deku-kun. It`s only a tiny scrape-” Her attempts to dismiss the care her friend was doling out on her was interrupted abruptly by her sharp hiss, a quick reaction to the cotton swap soaked with disinfectant touching her skin, bloody &. raw from the pavement. She couldn`t even bite her tongue in time to suppress the whimper that followed right after, unable to maintain her carefree smile for that moment. If Ochako was trying to act like she wasn`t in pain before in order to ease Izuku`s worry, then she certainly failed now.

        Though, it`s not like she was going to stop trying.

       “Seriously, this isn`t even the first time I fell off my longboard. This is a common occurrence!” A beat, before waving her hand over her face as if that would shake off her former remark, realizing the implication was not winning her any favors. “Actually, wait --- no, no, no. Not saying this happens often, or that it happens a lot. I think I`m pretty darn good at longboard dancing, if I do say so myself! But I am just saying...!”

       Trailing off, Ochako gently placed her hand over Izuku`s, firm enough to stop him in his tracks without forcing him to pull away. “You don`t have to take care of me, Deku-kun. I`ll be fine, I promise,” she gave her best beaming smile, convincing enough that he might not even be able to notice how red in the face she was over their close contact. ( It doesn`t help that she definitely made a fool of herself by falling right in front of him earlier, too ).

@heromight caught that  ♥.

[annebrontesrequiem]

Hi There! I just followed you cause I always follow fellow Fanfic authors. Can you make some head cannons for the MC tries to correct the emotional damage of the RFA and the minor trio? Ex: Zen feeling low self esteem because of his albinism and MC kissing his face and telling him he's beautiful, MC comforting Jaehee and telling her that she doesn't need to work herself to death, telling Yoosung that it's alright that he likes her and he isn't betraying Rika, etc.

I’m so happy to meet another author, and I’m sure to check out your works!!! I’m glad to do this of course, and I decided to make different issues than the examples, just because I wouldn’t want to steal an idea form you, I’m sorry for the slight wait, but I hope you enjoy regardless!!

*Note, for Yoosung I used a bit from Seven’s Route, I hope you don’t mind.

Zen

He didn’t like to talk about it, I mean he was an actor

And one of the things about an actor is keeping up your looks

But he kinda felt bad about constantly having to worry about what he looked like

He hated when the other members of the RFA teased him about being obsessed about his looks, or his insane amount of selfies

Sure he normally didn’t mind, but sometimes it was hard to ignore

He didn’t really bring it up you, but eventually you kinda figured it out

“Zen, why are you feeling so unhappy, you look so pale.”

When he realizes you think he’s sick he tells you everything

You’re heart cries a bit when you hear this

 You know he can be a bit over the top about making sure he has enough beauty sleep, but you know that it’s hard, that an actor has to be very careful about his looks

So while he keeps looking down at his plate you get up and hug him

“It’s okay, no one really thinks you’re a crazy narcissist! They just enjoy teasing you, you know, the way Seven is constantly teasing Yoosung.”

Zen feels a bit happier, and smiles at you softly

“Thank you MC, you know how to cheer me up.”

You nod understandingly, and continue to hug him, kissing him on the cheeks, which causes him to flush slightly

You spend the night cuddling, still assuring Zen he’s not obnoxious about it at all

He feels a bit worried, but calms down significantly after you say that

He trusts you completely

Yoosung*

You came back from Mint Eye

He was broken, Rika, the Rika he saw as a sister, that Rika did this

He tries to keep a brave face for you, but cries in secret

When you’re healed enough to live with him again you notice the bags under his eyes significantly

Finally you wake up to hear his sniffling

He feels bad, and tries to tell you it was just a nightmare, but you sit him down, getting him a cup of hot chocolate

He spills his heart out, and how he’s not sure at all what to do about it, that he’s so confused

You take his hand and hold it

The warmth from your hand makes him relax a bit

You tell him that’s okay, that you completely understand, Yoosung and Rika were so close as children

He cries more, but you continue to stroke his hand, and to kiss him on the forehead

He eventually falls asleep on the couch, you falling asleep next to the couch

When he wakes up and remembers at first he feels embarrassed, and still a bit guilty

But is so happy you were willing to listen and tell him that it’s okay to mourn and feel guilty

Rika may have been horrible, but she was still his cousin

And he loves that you get that

Jaehee

Okay, Baehee you’re awesome

But don’t work yourself to death

Jaehee knew that it was important to work

But she still couldn’t get the idea of a coffee shop out of her head

But now that you two were in a relationship, and your main source of income being a part-time jobs, the parties took up a lot of time, and her job paid much better

But she still couldn’t stop thinking about that coffee shop

She tried to push it out of her mind and just keep working

But you saw her become more and more discouraged

Eventually she was going to have a mental breakdown

So you asked her about it

She told you

T_T

Why did she tell you

But you smile and brighten up

“We can definitely do that, I was thinking of applying for a teaching job at a college, and it would give time for me to work on weekends and when I don’t have classes. I was going to tell you when I got it, but I could help run it while you were working with Jumin, and we could make it so your breaks are when I teach!”

Jaehee wants to cry of happiness

You didn’t say that it was stupid, that she should just give up

Instead you came up with a solution

She smiles brightly and kisses you lightly on the cheek

You return the favor and she reddens slightly

Coffee shop here we come!

Jumin

People always thought he was so stuck up

What a spoiled man

And that really got to him

He’d gotten very good at hiding emotions

But after meeting you the mask was beginning to crack

The last straw was when he heard someone talk about it at a RFA party

He walked out, not telling any members, not even you

You get a little nervous when you can’t find him

But when you don’t see his car it becomes evident he went home

So you just hire a taxi

When you walk in and the penthouse is slightly dark you assume he just had a headache

But when you here little sniffling sounds and a cat meowing you kinda freak out

“Jumin! What’s wrong!”

Bursting through the door you find him petting Elizabeth, wiping his nose

You immediately climb into bed and asked him what happened

He doesn’t try to pretend like everything’s okay

When you hear that you look unhappy

Kissing his cheeks and forehead you tell him not to mind them

They’re just jealous and trying to get him down by insulting him

He’s not spoiled

He’s very doting and kind, not someone who expects that everyone bow down to him

He’s sniffling a bit still, but much more relieved

“I’m sorry I bugged you”

You smile and shakes you head, before kissing him once more

There was a lot of cuddling and talking about random happy memories that night

Saeyoung

He felt bad about ignoring you, and all the emotional baggage you had to deal with

Even though you assured him that you understand, that he was just trying to protect you

But he still felt bad

He would become really clingy when you left, and over apologize for small things

When he freaks out about accidentally throw away your leftovers you sit him down

He tells you, why wouldn’t he?

You listen to it silently

And after you hug him and kiss his forehead

You realize he’s crying

“You beat yourself up too much. I know that you might think I carry some sort of grudge, but I know that you’ve been alone for so long, and it’s hard to be aware of how much makes people uncomfortable, but don’t worry, I promise that I will never carry a grudge, and that you don’t need to apologize for those crappy leftovers.”

He lets out a shaky laugh and smiles

“Thanks MC.”

“Of course.”

You spend the rest of the night watching chips, playing games and watching space documentaries

V

He’s a naturally nervous person

Smol bean must be protected at all costs

So he worried that he was a burden on you, bringing you down

He was so torn up about the surgery, and every time you pushed it and he grumbled he secretly felt a stab of guilt

So when you find him staring at the wall in the dark at 12:45 in the morning yo ukinda freak

You know that he has a gentle personality

So you softly ask what’s wrong

“MC, am I a burden to you?”

“No! Not at all! Why would you ever be a burden to me? You’re a wonderful kind person, who always thinks of everyone else before making a decision.”

He still needs a bit of convincing, so you softly stroke his cheek

“You’re a beam of light, even I push you about the surgery, that doesn’t mean that I think you’re a burden. I just want you to be happy, and whatever you decide is fine by me.”

He smiles softly

“MC, can we go to sleep now?”

You happily agree

A night of cuddling

Saeran

He knew that his episodes were bad

He apologized profusely every time, and you assured him it was fine, that it was just the remainder of brainwashing, and that he was such a kind person

But one time he throws something at you

It was a cup

You end up getting ten stitches in you leg

He’s silent at the clinic, when you tell the doctor that it was an accident however he flinches

When you get home you tell him you’re going to get ready for bed, but he lingers

“Saeran?”

“I’ll leave if you want…”

It’s a soft sentence, but you her it nevertheless

You rush over to him and give him a tight hug

“No, why would you ever think that!”

“Look what I did!” He looks you in the eye, blinking back tears, face flushed. “What if it was something else, what if you get seriously injured! I’m dangerous! And you don’t deserve someone like me, I’m just a burden.”

“Saeran! How could you ever think that!”

You hug him tightly

“I would be so sad if you left. Yes, you do have your moments, but that’s not your fault. You’re getting so much better. And it’s just a few stitches, nothing in here could really hurt me. Not like you leaving would.”

He asks if you’re sure, and you insist

You kiss him softly then, go to get ready for bed

Later he asks again, but you’re still adamant about it

He’s so grateful

Leaving you would kill him

Vanderwood

Vanderwood wasn’t sure why they were so uptight

At least that’s what people called them

They hated that, they hated being seen as strict, like those evil teachers in books

It really got them for some reason

They started being really quiet a lot

And it really bugged you

You were really worried about them

What if they have depression?

You’d dealt with it before, and it was absolutely horrible

So after one especially quiet day you ask them

They immediately asks if they’re uptight

“No, not uptight,  you like stuff to be clean, but that’s not a bad thing. I mean I’m hopeless, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They manage a laugh out of them

You hug them and kiss them on the hand

“People are so rude, I don’t know why they’d say that. Don’t worry, you’re not a pain! You’re an awesome person.”

After you make sure that anyone who tries to get them down is confronted

I hope you like, wow is it late!!! Yikes!!! Anyway, tell me if it’s not what you think, I’ll rewrite it gladly. But if you don’t then I’m glad you like, and again nice to meet you!!! Hope you like!!! Bye!!

[shatteredskies042]

NaNo Day 02

“And what does that mean, exactly?” Michael wondered, leaning back in the bucket seat. He stared at the sheet metal door of the storage unit, waiting for a response, but it sounded like he was being offered to come back.

“A fair bit of my coworkers want your head on a pike. However, we’ve encountered a problem. If you can take care of it for us, I can convince my compatriots that you are an asset, and have them leave you alone.”

“This sounds like something we have to discuss in person,” Michael noted.

“It is something we should,” the doctor agreed. “Two days, the Air and Space Museum, next to the Saturn V exhibit,” then the line cut off.

Michael lowered the phone, staring at the screen before the automatic timer shut the screen off. He didn’t have much of a choice, did he? He left the car and pushed the door fully open, then returned to his car. Michael turned the engine over, hearing it spark to life instantly and giving the throaty sound a muscle car ought to have back to the world. He drove just out of the storage unit and stopped, returning only to close the door and lock it again. He left the business, and headed for a gas station. While there, he filled his gas tank and consulted a highway map of the United States. His fastest route would be to get onto I-70 and follow it all the way to the East Coast.

Michael used the cash he had to cover the price of gas, then returned to his car. He navigated his way to I-70, and joined into traffic headed east. He had a long way to go, and not much time to get there. The timetable on this was fast, and he thought that the Archivist was being generous. By his own calculations, he would have to stop two or three times more for gas, and to perform such standard maintenance like restroom breaks, snacks, and drinks. He stopped several times on his first leg for all of those, and the car drew plenty of looks. Outside Kansas City, Michael used his credit card to pull some money from his bank account, feeling an itch to have cash on hand while he drove across the country. He kept his face hidden, and more over tried to keep his car as concealed as possible. Another gas station in Indianapolis yielded fuel, Slim Jims and a Vanilla Coke, before he was back on the road and making his way East.

He drove until the sun’s light disappeared from the sky, and the only light came from blue headlights and the odd orange streetlight. He kept a steady pace, but felt himself slipping, the stakes not high enough like they had been the last time he stayed up a marathon like this. Perhaps his body was still recovering, but he knew he had to stop. With the last of the energy he had, he pulled off at the next town marked as an exit, somewhere in Illinois.

The town could have been any other in hundreds of other small interstate towns. A main street lined on both sides by stores and restaurants, with tall and brightly colored neon signs. These places were interchangeable, and he felt like he had been before, even though his only experience of Illinois was as a flyover state. Off the main street were hotels, but he was far past the hour he could have booked a room. Pulling onto a decently lit street, he stopped on the side of the road and turned the car off.

Michael leaned the seat back, then reached behind his seat. He found a warm hoodie laying at the top of the tote in the back and pulled it forward, intending to use it as a blanket. He also removed his handgun from the small of his back, something he was prone to sleeping on. He stashed his sidearm inside the glove box, a million miles away if he needed it, but he did not think he would.

Once he got the gray hoodie over his torso, it was easy for him to drift to sleep. Odd dreams plagued his early sleep, images of walking around his hometown, hiding behind cars at the car dealership downtown. It was something he hadn’t done in the past, as far as he could remember, at least. He looked into the sky of his dreamscape to find it empty, no stars, no moon, just an infinite darkness. Then he started to run, through the car dealership and past the coffee shop his grandmother used to own. He lived up the hill from here, just had to run past the furniture store and the pharmacy, then follow-

-A tapping on his window jolted him from his sleep. He looked over and saw only light, blinking quickly. He reached for the window handle, to work the handle around to bring the window down. Michael and his dad had not thought of power windows when they were restoring the vehicle, too focused on fixing the body and converting the base vehicle to a Pro Touring vehicle.

He worked the window down, then became aware of the red and blue lights flashing behind him and illuminating the interior of his car.

“Rough night, son?” the cop asked, shining the light around the dark leather interior of the Camaro.

“Been a rough couple of nights, sir,” Michael responded, unable to hide the exhaustion in his voice. He ran a hand across his face, and felt the rough texture of stubble clouding his cheeks and chin.

“You got ID?” the cop inquired.

Michael asked for permission to reach for it, something that would ease the officer’s nerves, before he rolled over to draw his wallet from his back pocket. “My driver’s license is expired, as are the tabs I think,” he stated, “first time I’ve been back in the country and driving this car in quite a while,” Michael told him. “I got my passport if you want that, it’s current.”

“Shouldn’t be necessary, son. You on the run or something?” he asked with a hint of humor in his voice.

“No sir, I’ve been back in the country for less than a week,” Michael said truthfully.

“Alright, I’m gonna take this back to my car, run you real quick just to make sure you’re not on the FBI’s most wanted, then I’ll cut you loose,” the officer promised, before retreating to his car. A tense minute passed for Michael, before the officer returned. “You military?” the officer asked, passing the ID back to Michael.

“Yeah,” the soldier nodded, “Air Force.”

“I’m with the Illinois National Guard, an MP, shocker, I know,” the cop said, his large frame relaxing some. “I deployed to Baghdad during the war with Iran, wasn’t a bad posting. What about you?”

Michael could hardly talk about his service, both as a Phoenix Raven and as a member of BLACK, but he could speak in general terms. “Korea, and Iran. The first I was an MP like you were, Iran I had a more direct role,” he stated simply.

“Korea? Damn,” the officer remarked under his breath. “Tell you what, son,” he said, pocketing his flashlight on his duty belt. “We got a vagrancy law, but I ain’t gonna hassle you about it. And none of our vets should have to sleep out in the cold,” he added, “I’m gonna go back to my car, and if you don’t mind falling in behind me, I’ll drive you to one of the motels here in town and we’ll get you a room,” the officer offered.

“Sounds like a good deal, sir, thank you,” Michael nodded respectfully. The cop disappeared from his window and he started his car, then watched his mirrors for the police car to pull out. He followed the vehicle, winding through town and onto the other side of the main street. They stopped in front of a modest looking generic chain motel. Better than sleeping in the cold, he had to rationalize. He followed the officer inside the motel, and let him do the talking, playing the quiet vet part well. He accepted a room keycard, before shaking the officer’s hand. “Thank you very much, sir.”

“Like I said, son, you risked your life for all this. Even though you got a nice car,” a complimentary smile on his lips, “vet like you shouldn’t have to sleep in it, you know?”

Michael nodded with a smile, “have a safe night, sir. My dad was a cop, it was always my plan when I got out.”

“Best job I ever had,” the cop smirked, before he headed for his car. Michael followed him out a moment later, heading for his hotel room. The room was clean, and would do for the night. He sat on the white and brown sheets, manipulating the alarm clock to guarantee he would avoid sleeping in. As he slipped under the sheets, he smelled bleach from the sheets, then passed out.

He was asleep at one in the morning, and five and a half hours later the alarm began emitting an ear-piercing tone. He blindly reached out for the snooze button, opening his eyes and casting the blankets off his body. His hands itched, probably from the overuse of bleach. The rest was rejuvenating, even as short as it was. Michael headed to his car and retrieved a change of clothes, then returned to his room. He availed himself use of the shower to achieve some semblance of cleanliness, using the motel’s soap and shampoo.

He wished he had a razor to get this itchy black stubble off his cheeks, but that would come later. He redressed and made the bed, a habit from his time in the military. It was an important milestone for him, where even if the rest of the day went poorly, he managed to make a bed and succeed at that. It was something, at least. He returned his key to the office, then made his way back to his car to get on the road.

Back on I-70, as the road and the miles and the exit signs all blurred together. He stopped again, several times for gas along his route. Statistically speaking, taking his Camaro cross country was far from the best idea. But nothing beat this car, the smoothness of the ride and how the engine purred. It was almost a tame sound, traveling at highway speeds. Every now and then he would depress the pedal further, and let the motor roar for a couple of seconds before letting the speed return to interstate speeds.

He hit a bit of a delay just before he reached the Washington Beltway, but nothing he could not get past with a bit of patience. Finally, the capital came into view, and from there he let the signs lead him. He found a parking garage near a metro station, and paid for a four hour slot for his Camaro. Michael recovered his gun, and secured it on his person. He hitched a ride on the metro towards the Mall and the Smithsonian.

Word Count: 3796

[urabitea]

       TRAINING WAS MORE arduous than what Ochako was accustomed to; but, not because she was slacking behind on strength or her signature defensive style. Oh no --- this kind of training was a completely different type of breed. One that requires extreme discipline &. the will to continue despite the strenuous obstacles that practically forced her to crack under pressure &. give up, begging for release from this mental prison. Every limb in her body is aching in pain, throbbing from the seams; especially her legs, reduced to jelly, unable to properly stand. Not even her talented senpai, Nejire-chan, can withstand the challenge, so the odds were already stacked against the less experienced hero-in-training`s favor.

       She was, of course, training in the art of ballet dancing --- a skill that cannot be scoffed at if one of the top 20 heroes made the art into a formidable fighting style. Yui was a beauty to behold, even more-so in battle. What was normally a barbaric display of brute force transformed into a graceful performance, solely dependent on agility and speed; &. Ochako wanted to learn the art so she can be more like the pro-hero, to strengthen the parts she felt were weak. But if Yui was like poetry in motion, Ochako was the scattered &. deranged scrawling of a mad man. She may as well be defying gravity!

       Ochako desperately needed a break for the day. For the week. Perhaps for the rest of her life.

       “I apologize for interrupting your lesson, Kobayashi-san, but...” A ragged inhale of breath, either from exhaustion or nerves, one thing is certain: Ochako felt like a failure for asking, “Can we please end today`s training?” 

@regalswan caught that  ♥.

[urabitea]

       WITH A SMALL dab of her finger, Ochako tasted the frosting Todoroki whipped together when she was placing the cake batter in their respective cake pans. She left him in charge of the most important part of the confection, &. she trusted him to get the job done right. She expected absolute perfection. No flaws in sight. However...

       “Hmm...” A hum in content; though, there was an edge of scrutiny in her tone, “It`s good; but, it could use a little more flavor. Have you used the vanilla extract I told you about before?”

@ncnshou caught that  ♥.

[urabitea]

It's not much but it'll certainly make due. He knows how the girl is the frugal sort for good causes but damn does she need to live a little. That's exactly why some yen is ushered her way. "Here go n' grab some cones. All for you though. Can't keep working your ass off without any energy to back ya up."

       NOT LIKE OCHAKO is one that doesn`t appreciate the occasional gift from her friends when the moment is right, usually for a typical affair or celebration; matter of fact, she absolutely adores it when she crosses someone`s mind — a momentary lapse where one might think, ‘Hey, I`m sure Uraraka would like this.’ It makes her feel special. Loved.

       However, she can`t help but feel a little uncomfortable when she`s handed money, straight cash. Especially when it`s unearned. Otherwise, she`d feel like she has a debt to pay; &. there`s no lousy feeling for her than to know, from the back of her mind, that she owes someone something.

       So, imagine the predicament she was in when it was the no-nonsense Urameshi giving her money for something as inconsequential as ice cream. It`s almost unbelievable that he`d even remember how much she likes the sweet. From the sound of it, he wasn`t going to take ‘no’ for an answer; not like Ochako had the heart to say ‘no’ to him upfront, anyways. Despite his otherwise rough exterior, he was someone she has a great deal of respect for, &. she knew it would be considered a slight against him if she rejected his generous offer.

       ‘It`s not like he was giving me much anyways… right?’ She reasoned with herself. Only 600 yen — just enough to pay for the ice cream, fulfill her sweet tooth. It was a nice reward for saving Urameshi once again from a thug days ago. Or did that happen over a week ago? ‘Only 600 yen…’ She continued to rationalize.

       Despite her best efforts, Ochako couldn`t alleviate her inner struggle. So, with a lot of regret &. hesitation, “I`m sorry, Urameshi-kun. I cannot accept this.” 

       A small smile cracked the corner of her lips to not appear as forlorn as she felt, motioning her hand towards his, lightly pushing it &. the money away with a shaky grasp. Eyes remained downcast with the occasional glance up. “You should hold onto that for yourself, right? Maybe for Keiko-chan instead,” though the sugary sweet aroma that wafted in the air from the ice cream shop was almost enough to make her take back her word, she stood her ground, &. the teasing lilt in her tone should be enough to carry her good mood on the surface.