#Fic: Feline Fancies

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧 ♡

【Synopsis】 : The boys were going to teach you a simple game of pool. Nothing more, nothing less... right?

『Word count』 : 3.9k

-> Genre: Smut. Dark Romance. Supernatural.

Pairing: Vampire!WooSanSang x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : Flirting. Dirty talk. Slight innocent reader. Foursome. Lowkey free use. Dub-con ish, but the reader is into it. Everything is just new for her. Mxm. Manhandling. Blood drinking, biting. Wounds. Whimper kink? Swearing. Clit play. Yeosang fucks her without really asking but the reader is into it. Unprotected sex. Multiple orgasms. Pet names including [Doll, Baby, Pet, Sir, Darling. Pretty thing] Use of the word slut. I shit on religion for a second, so I’m sorry if anyone is religious.

Note: Fun fact I found out that pool tables were invented back in 1470, so I felt like I had to add it aha.

Also hi I'm uploaded two fic in one night. I know crazy right?! Well, I've been really wanting to just post all my work. i got in the drafts, but im pacing myself, hehe. So this is just a little ... gift? Idk ahah i just could help, but post two tonight. Enjoy ♡♡

"Oh, my body, I don't wanna stop until the break of dawn"

Masterlist | Nav | Chapter Three | Series List | Buy Me A Ko-fi

When you finally woke, you noticed Seonghwa had left the bed. There was a small note on the bedside table with a little heart next to your name written in black ink. You smiled sleepily, stretching slowly in the spacious bed. You’ve never had a better sleep in years, if not ever. Your small single bed that was tattered and moulding was all you’d ever known, and now you had a bed fit for a king. It was almost strange, bittersweet in a way. You felt like you were always supposed to end up here. With them. Like fate was etched in stone way before you were even of age. You had wondered if they felt the same way, as you made your way through the halls once again. It became quite easy to move around the manor now that you’ve explored a bit. You had slipped on a tunic and pants of various shades of purple and black that were sitting on the end of your bed.

“I see you’ve made yourself quite at home, pet.” You shivered at the sound of Yeosang's velvet voice. Glancing above, you see him leaning on the railing of the mezzanine, a sly smirk on his delicate features.

“She’s like a curious kitty isn’t she.” Another voice caught your attention looking towards the doorway of the billiard room you see a feline feature man. San... His dark hair and sharp yellow glowing eyes make your heart thump in anticipation. Strange? you thought. They were all vampires as far as you knew, so why were his eyes such a deep sunset yellow?

“We got to get that staring problem under control, Darling.” You jumped hearing the high-pitched man, Wooyoung right behind you, whispering in your ear. 

“I w-was not staring.” You shake your head, turning around to see all three men now standing around the pool table. San had picked up a pool stick, putting some blue chalk to dab on the end of the said stick. You watched as all three of them took a pool cue and chalked them up, curious at what they might be up to. You had never seen a pool table up close, let alone see anyone play before. You’ve only ever read about it in fancy books or heard it from the richer folk in the village. “A-are you going to play a game?”

Your words sounded flinching like you were some peasant girl asking the higher for a slice of knowledge. But in truth weren’t you just that? “We are most definitely going to be playing a game Darlin’ and you are going to be the price.”

Wooyoung’s words made you gulp, standing there awkwardly playing with the hem of your tunic. San walked over to you while Yeosang set up the balls in the triangle. San’s fingers grazed your chin before lifting your face to look at him. His smile was softer this time, unlike how it was border-lining lust prior. “Don’t worry, Pretty thing. We won’t go too hard on you. Well, Yeosang might, if you’re not too careful.”

You visibly gulp feeling a tingle in your tummy. What could he possibly be insinuating? Your mind was racing, thinking of all the possibilities, slightly thanking Jongho was not here to read your lusting thoughts. You were about to say something, but then Wooyoung came up behind San, pushing him aside so he could give you a pool cue. “I don’t know how to p-play.”

“It’s okay, darling. We will teach you.” Wooyoung’s chippy voice eased your heart slightly. And as you watched Wooyoung start to bicker with Yeosang, who would start the game. You couldn’t help but giggle. For Monsters, they sure act like teenagers. Immature and… youthful. 

“Okay okay, Woo, get over here. Let Sangie Break.” The feline yelled over all the bickering. The nicknames he gave the other males made your heart flutter. In the next few minutes, the three vampires took their turn, trying to get a ball in the hole. Until finally, San got a stripe in making Wooyoung whine. 

“How do you always manage to score first.” Wooyoung was disappointed about his lover winning, shifting his weight around as he stomped over to the bar that was sitting across a billiard table. He grabbed out four short glasses and began pouring an amber-coloured liquor in each one. You could hear mumbles around you, most likely San and Yeosang badgering about something again, but you couldn’t focus on them. Only looking straight at the shorter male, curiously watching him take a shot of the liquid before taking the other full glass and shotting it.

“Pet did you hear anything we said?” Yeosang's presence behind you caught your attention, noting the way his shoulder bumped into you lightly. You shook your head with a little sorry before taking a breath, suddenly blurting out.

“I didn’t think vampires could eat or drink human food.”

The situation reminded you about how you shared a meal with all of them a night ago. You were so out of it, and floating in your mind, you didn’t really take notice that they were, in fact, consuming food. Cooked cow, vegetables, rich sauces, and wines. It was always written in history books and the words of your church that no hellspawn beasts like night crawlers were able to consume and dine on earthy foods. Only craving and needing the taste of blood to sustain themselves. 

San had to try very hard not to laugh at your innocence. Wooyoung had a cheeky smirk on his face, placing the glass on the brim of the pool table, speaking up on your question. “Oh, we do not have to eat or drink to stay alive if that’s what you’re asking. And drinking does nothing for us unless we drink an entire Alehouse. But it does take the edge off for us a little bit.” He downed his drink like he did before, some of the alcohol dripping down his chin. San, within seconds, moved from one end of the table to where Wooyoung stood. His speed created a little wind pocket that blew against your face, making you shiver. San’s hand cupped Wooyoung’s chin, drawing his face upwards. San then opened his mouth, letting his freakishly long tongue slide out onto the younger's neck, licking up the liquor he had spilt.

You gulp, looking away to see Yeosang staring at you intensely with a smirk. He bit his lip before chuckling “God I wished I could read minds. I bet you’re thinking about the filthiest things right now.” He moved to stand in front of you, making you take a step back until you were trapped against the pool table and his broad body. “Such a cute little pet, with such a dirty little mind.”

“W-Wha...I…” You didn’t know what to say cause in truth you couldn’t help but think vulgarly around them. They were all so attractive, and it was like some kind of drug being near them. You looked back to San and Wooyoung, seeing San now had his tongue down the other man's throat, and you couldn’t help but whine. What you didn’t realize was that from looking away from Yeosang, you bared your neck to him, making him growl. “You should never show off your neck to vampires unless you want them to bite you, baby.”

Your eyes widened at his words. But you couldn’t react fast enough. It was like your body became a ragdoll as he moved you with the speed of light. Your back hit the table with a thud, legs spread with Yeosang’s body in between them and his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers squeezed his shoulders as you felt his sharp fangs run along your hot skin. “S-Sangie…”

“Hmm using my nickname is only gonna make me want to fuck you, pet.” his nose brushed down your main vein, letting him breathe in your scent sharply. You were the sweetest thing he had ever smelt. 

“Sangie.” You repeated suddenly, reaching tighter for Yeosang’s large shoulders, lacing the fabric of his dress shirt in your fingers. The vampire just chuckled, kissing along your hot skin. You wiggled against him, feeling his crotch twitch beneath the layers of cloth that separated you both. “Please.”

“Ooo, She begs. My favourite.” Yeosang’s fangs grazed your neck, making your heart thump harder. You felt like your whole body was on fire, and every nerve was being consumed with nothing but Yeosang. His scent, his dark deep chuckles. The way his fingers glide along your body. 

Him. 

While his hands played with the fabric on your clothing. You turned your head to look back at where Wooyoung and San were, but the in a blink of an eye, they vanished. 

“Don’t get this party started without us.” San’s voice frightened you as he was suddenly at the other end of the table, leaning over to give your forehead a light little kiss. Wooyoung, however, was now standing next to Yeosang, pushing your right leg opened wider so both men could stand in between them. “I can smell her from over there.”

“I know, our little slut is getting nice and wet from us teasing her.” Yeosang spat out such a foul name at you but it only made you whimper more. No way in your wildest dreams would you have ever suspected your life would end up with being sprawled out on a pool table with three Vampire, kiss and lick parts of your body that weren’t covered by your clothing.

Sinful. Hellborn. A daughter of Lilith. Words from your mother came flooding in your mind like little flashes of a candle flame blowing in the wind. Maybe she was right. Maybe she saw your future before you even knew it.

“F-fuck I need a taste,” Wooyoung whined, tugging at your pants, but what you didn’t expect was him to lift up the loose pant leg, exposing your right thigh. Yeosang pulled up your tunic, drawing his tongue out onto your hot skin. And finally, San, the last one, lifted your wrist to his nose, inhaling sharply before opening his mouth to suck on the soft flesh.

“I’d take a deep breath If I was you, pet,” Yeosang grunted with a sly smirk, making you let out a large gasp. You felt all three of them sink their teeth into you in a sudden snap, almost synchronised. The crunch of broken skin echoed in the room before ringing in your ears. You could feel their addictive vampiric venom pouring into your veins while they emptied you of blood. The euphoric feeling of being drained was indescribable. Like floating on a cloud, feeling the soft cotton tickle your body, leaving your toes and fingertips to tingle. 

“F-ffuck. Argh.” Was all you could mutter out before rolling your eyes back again. You could feel Yeosang’s deep chuckle against your tummy, feeling like the sound almost came from inside you. And without letting his fangs slip, he drew his hand to your covered core. Pressing sharply on your sensitive button through the loose fabric. This made you let out another gasp, calling for Yeosang. “S-Sangie pleasee.”

San retracted his fangs from your wrist before whining, “Hey, I want to hear you cry my name out. Can you do that for me, pretty?” The vampire kissed along your arm until he got to your neck. You nodded while he tilted your head to the side, exposing your jugular. “such a good little doll. Now I want you to scream.”

And with that, he sunk his teeth into the crease of your shoulder and neck, making you let out a loud, painfully lustful cry. “FUCK SAN!!!”

Wooyoung and Yeosang finally pulled away after a few more moments, licking their lips of your blood. Yeosang had a deep growl rumble in his chest as he ran his thumb over the puncture wound, smearing the crimson liquid on your red irritated flesh. Wooyoung did the same but drew a heart with it instead making himself giggle in approval. “Fuck if we didn’t want to keep you alive pet. We would have drunk you dry.”

Yeosang’s empty threat would have scared anyone, but for some reason, it only enticed you more. Pulling your shaky legs up, you placed your bare feet on the edge of the pool table before spreading your legs wide. The grumpy vampire seemed to get the hint, taking his long nail he ripped the fabric right in between your thighs, making a slit-like opening for him and Wooyoung to get a perfect view of your soaking cunt. “Now, why don’t you look at that.”

Yeosang growls, sliding a finger along your wet lips. Your whole body shivers, feeling yourself becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. This shock wave made San sit up suddenly, pulling away from your shoulder, gasping for air as he let out the deepest, most feral-like groan you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, She tastes so good when you do that. I need one of you to fuck her right now so I can taste that again” His blood-stained lips kissed along your shoulder smearing all the red crimson liquid over your soft skin. His kisses your feverish as if he had become drunk off you alone. The few buttons that were holding your shirt closed were now being opened by the feline male, slowly revealing your hidden flesh. 

“I volunteer as tribute.” 

Wooyoung protested, shaking his belt in a manner of desperation, but Yeosang quickly scoffed, snaking his belt out of the hoops of his pants in one swift motion before dropping it. “I’d like to see you fucking try. This pussy is mine.” Yeosang’s deep venomous growl made the younger vampire cower slightly, giving him a slight pout. 

“Why do you get to go first.” From your angle, you could have sworn you saw Wooyoung stomp his feet, making you giggle lightly, catching the attention of all three of the men around you. Yeosang kisses your tummy lightly, pulling your focus to him alone, his hands gripping your hips and body snuggling tightly against your hot core.

“What’s so funny, pet? Finding enjoyment over us fighting over you?” Yeosang’s lips travelled up your navel as he kissed along your newly exposed skin since San had now successfully unbuttoned your top, revealing your perky, tight nipples on your plump and soft breasts.

“Yes sir…” you whispered, closing your eyes as you revelled in the feeling of his tongue sliding along your body.

“Fuck, she’s so good isn't she.” San covered his mouth with his hand, sighing at how obedient you had become. Reaching for your breast he squeezed your plump flesh together, pinching your nipples between his pointer and thumb. You choked out a whine as he rolled the pad of his finger over your sensitive bud, almost completely distracting you from the vampire between your legs. 

“Come on, Sangie, hurry up. I want to be inside her so badly.” Wooyoung has hopped up onto the end of the pool table leaning on his hand behind his soft frame. His hand palming his covered crotch, panting slightly as he watched San and Yeosang ravish you. Your hazy eyes looked back to see San standing straight and tall behind you. Giving you a sweet smile that was hiding a sinister lust underneath.

Before you could say anything about what Wooyoung had said, you felt Yeosang’s thick cock head breached your tight pussy. “Oh FUck!” You bucked your hips, helping him slide into you deeply inch by inch until he bottomed you out. He was definitely girthier than Seonghwa, making you feel like the wind was being knocked right out of you. 

“Shhit. This is the tightest pussy I’ve ever felt. Are you sure Seonghwa fucked you pet?” Yeosang began to ramble, pulling you down more so your ass was almost off the table. Sangie put his one hand under your thigh and hip, holding you still so he could slowly start thrusting into you, sharply and greatly. “So tight, so warm. Such a good little pet. You like being fucked baby? Bet you’d take all of us in one go if we’d asked.”

“Oh my god! Yes!!! please, Sangie.” You yelped at the top of your lungs just from the pure idea of having all eight of them. Pleasing them all. Dotting on them. You needed them just as much as they needed you. Yeosang gripped your shirt that hung open on the top and pulled you up until your face was inches from his and his lips, almost touching your own. 

“It’s master, my sweet little slut.” He yanked you off the pool table, pulling out for a moment so he could help you walk to the couch and even though his movements were rough, his grip was gentle, holding you closely in a way. Lovingly. “Come on baby, bend over the couch for me.”

He gave your ass a squeeze before letting you fall on your knees on the plush cushions. The couch was facing away from the pool table, so when you leaned over the top of it, you could get a perfect view of the other two vampires. “Okay, new game.” Yeosang knelt behind you, holding your hips, rubbing his palm against your skin. “Whoever gets a ball in first gets to take over and fuck our precious baby here. Deal?”

You had to laugh as San and Wooyoung scrambled around to grab their own pool stick. Your smile was bright as you were about to say some cheeky remark but you slowly felt Yeosang enter your soaked pussy from behind making you only let out a shaky whimper. His hands gripped tightly on your hips as your eyebrows knitted together and your mouth fell into an ‘O’ shape. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Yeosang chuckled as he thrusted into your cunt in shallow motions. His hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you up so your body was at an odd angle, but you couldn’t care less. “Last time I checked I’m not god’s pathetic son.”

Your fingers lased into the couch cushions, gripping onto it for dear life as you felt him slowly hammer into you faster. Your pussy would clench with each thrust making the most beautiful groans and whimpers fall from his lips. The hand that held the back of your neck, snaked around the front to clench tightly, blocking your airway just lightly, sending your brain into a fuzzy mess. 

“M-Master….” You cried, collapsing onto the edge of the couch. Your legs are shaking, and your arms are no longer able to hold yourself up anymore. San and Wooyoung were bickering, yelling at one another as they kept trying to get a ball in the hole. That was until San bent down and shot one of his stripes by hitting Wooyoung’s ball before getting it into the end left basket. 

Your glassy eyes could see San’s triumph, along with Woo’s high-pitched whine of defeat. The knot in your stomach was tightened with every thrust of Yeosang’s hips but before you could reach your climax he slipped out of your soaked cunt making you hiccup in a loud whine. “F-Ffuckk.”

“It’s okay, pet. Breathe…” You tried to take in a shaky breath as you felt your whole body being manhandled until you were sitting perfectly on someone’s lap. San’s naked lap, to be exact. His hazy smile got you blushing as he leaned forward to kiss your cheek so delicately.

“Don’t worry, sweet thing. I’ll take good care of you.” San’s cooe made you relax nicely against him as he lined his cock with your abused cunt. You were already so sensitive but somehow you were still craving more. The loud sound of pool balls whacking together got you startled but San stroked your cheek with his thumb slightly as he pulled your face towards his with his fingers. “Focus on me, baby. I want to see you come apart on my cock okay. No closing those pretty eyes."

You nodded with a short whimper followed by a simple yes that was so quiet you’re surprised San heard it. But then you remember that you weren’t fucking a normal man, but a beast in human form. A blood-sucking night-crawling beast that could kill you with his bare hands at any time. Your pussy clenched around his lengthy, and girthy cock making him groan. He slowly lifted your plump thighs up helping you gather a rhythm with your hips so you could ride him slowly. “S-sannie. Oh g-god please.”

“Such a good girl. Come on. Fuck you’re so tight...” You focused on his knitted brows and slightly parted mouth, seeing he was enjoying this just as much as you were. Your hips got faster as San started to buck upwards to match your movements. Your whole body was feeling like it was on fire, sensing you were close. He pushed your body up so he could help thrust deeper inside you. This left your tits to be right in his face, making him groan as he latched onto your plump flesh and sucked. Your breasts would be completely covered in hickeys by the time San was down them. And as his mouth traveled to the top of your breast you clenched around him, sucking him deeper into your tight cunt. He lost himself in your scent, the way you squeezed him and the sound of your pretty moans. He needed more, just another taste. He needed to taste the flavour of you when you came.

“S-San I’m gonna cum.” You gasped, tangling your fingers threw his hair.

“Come for me, baby. Be a good little human for me and cream on my cock.” He licked your skin before biting down, sinking his fangs into the top of your breast, jackhammering you at an inhuman pace. You screamed so loud that the whole manor would have heard, coming so much around Sans hard cock. You were it grew bigger inside you as your clenched harder, feeling him drink his fill of your red hot liquid. 

“San.” A male voice called out but your head was too dizzy, feeling San continue his assault on your cunt and teeth in your flesh. “SAN!!” The voice got loud but your eyes began to droop feeling a wave of sleep erode through your body. You heard San lewdly growl animalisticly against you, still drinking your blood as his cock stilled tightly in you, letting him come deep inside you.

The voice before screamed again, but your eyes closed, and darkness took over before you could see or hear anything else.

—

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[fungifanart]

Budget for love

Characters: Male reader, Yuu!reader, Ruggie Bucchi, Grim

CW: Skipping meals, existential dread, money problems

Word count: 2,032

Notes: I heard a voice one night, urging me to write a Ruggie fic...that voice was mine. I just like Ruggie.

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Ruggie Bucchi's financial status is, by no means, a secret.

Ever since he enrolled at Night Raven College, he's garnered a reputation for being a money-grubbing cheapskate who can reduce any merchant to their knees through his skill at haggling alone, all due to his lack of financial security.

Growing up in the slums will do that to a guy, he supposes.

Along with that, growing up poor has also instilled in him a certain pettiness and resentment in regards to the more privileged classes, which just so happen to make up a very large portion of NRC's student body.

Joy.

Well, if nothing else, this makes it easy to simply view most of the other students as potential pickpocket targets.

However, this also makes it easy to forget that not all of them are more well-off than he is, meaning it's especially jarring when he comes across a certain Prefect and direbeast having an argument in Sam's on-campus store.

"C'mon, Henchman! You're telling me we can't afford ONE little extra can of tuna?" Grim argues while clutching said can of tuna to his chest tightly.

"Yes I am, Grim. With our budget, we can barely even afford the bare essentials for this week. That 'one little extra can' will push us over the edge for sure!" The Prefect argues back with the look of a tired father trying in vain to reason with his stubborn child, "Listen, I get paid for my work at the Mostro Lounge on Friday, right? I know you've still got some of your secret stash left, so if you can hold out until then, I'll get you a can of the fancy tuna as a reward. How's that sound?"

That last statement causes Grim's face to light up as he immediately drops the can of regular tuna and hugs the Prefect while exclaiming, "Deal!"

Ruggie doesn't do anything. He simply watches, mildly dazed at what should have been a fact he already knew as the Prefect finishes paying for his essentials and leaves the store with Grim as Ruggie continues to stand there before being brought back to his senses by another student telling to him to move out of the way.

Ruggie doesn't see the Prefect again for a few days after that, their schedules never seeming to allow them even a passing glance in the halls, but the memory of what he saw that day still lingers in his mind for a reason he can’t quite identify right now.

The next time Ruggie does see the Prefect is in the cafeteria during lunch.

It's one of the rare occasions where he hasn't been ordered by Leona to get his lunch for him, so he's taking his time, scanning the tables for a place to sit when he notices the Prefect sitting across from his feline companion while said companion munches away at his food.

Seeing no other open seats, Ruggie walks over and says, "Long time, no see, Prefect! Mind if I sit here?" He asks despite not waiting for the other man's answer and plopping himself and his tray down in the spot next to him.

"O-oh! Yeah, that's fine." The Prefect responds before turning his head back to Grim as he eats, but Ruggie can't help but notice the lack of food on his side of the table.

"Dang, Prefect! I wish I got here sooner so I could've seen the carnage!" Ruggie remarks while playfully nudging the other man's shoulder.

"Huh? What do you mean?" The Prefect asks confusedly.

"Oh, come on! YOU finishing your food before GRIM? I can only imagine how much you stuffed your face to make that happen!" Ruggie concludes with a snicker before taking a bite of one of his sandwiches.

The Prefect blinks a couple times before responding, "Oh, I think there's been a misunderstanding. I didn't get lunch." He says, causing the hyena to choke on his food.

"W-whaddaya mean you 'didn't get lunch'???" Ruggie questions after chugging his water.

The Prefect shrugs, "Just what I said. We have some leftovers at Ramshackle that I could’ve brought, but we were in such a rush this morning that we couldn't even eat breakfast, much less prepare any lunch and running back between classes would take too long. Therefore, we had no choice but to buy lunch from here, but I had barely enough cash to get food for one of us and it'd kill me to see Grim go hungry, so I figured I'd be fine if I skipped a meal or two." He concludes nonchalantly.

Ruggie proceeds to sit there, dumbfounded, as the Prefect goes back to watching Grim eat, his face content, but with a hint of melancholy.

Ruggie knows that look. He's seen it countless times in his childhood on the faces of some of the adults in his neighborhood as they forwent their own food just to let their children eat.

He doesn't remember seeing a lot of them around last time he went home.

His mind snaps back to the present as he looks down at his lunch tray piled high with the food he bought using money he'd snuck out of Leona's wallet and then back at the empty space in front of the Prefect, his stomach suddenly not feeling as empty as before.

Wordlessly, Ruggie takes two of his sandwiches and slides them over to the other man, who looks back at him in bewilderment.

"Ruggie? What's this for?" The Prefect asks.

Ruggie clears his throat awkwardly before responding, "W-well, it's just that it turns out I got more food than I'll probably eat, so I thought 'why not', right?" He says while forcing his signature laugh.

Luckily, the Prefect doesn't seem to read into his awkwardness as his suppressed hunger resurfaces on his face and he proceeds to practically inhale the sandwiches after giving a rushed "Thanks!"

In a matter of seconds, the sandwiches have completely disappeared, leaving Ruggie both amazed and...oddly fulfilled upon seeing the Prefect’s own satisfaction from having a full stomach.

Huh...that's new.

Ruggie's been so used to pinching his and other people's pennies at this school that helping out seemingly the only other student that's in the same boat as him, even without getting anything in return, feels...nice.

Nice feelings like this are few and far in between with a lifestyle like Ruggie's, so now that he's felt it, he proceeds to chase it whenever he can.

From that day onward, Ruggie makes a point to help out the Prefect if he has the time, starting with offering him a simple snack between classes or pointing him in the right direction if he gets lost, before slowly escalating into him stepping in to haggle Sam's prices down for him and even taking his hand and physically leading him to where he needs to go, not noticing the increasingly flustered looks on the other man's face.

He doesn't know when exactly it happened, but after a while, that simple nice feeling turned into something more...warm and fuzzy that he feels blooming in his chest as he and the Prefect grow closer, finding more and more time to spend with each other, whether it being studying together or going out to the market, until one night, they find themselves gazing up at the stars on the hill just outside of Ramshackle.

Looking over at the stars reflecting in the Prefect’s eyes, Ruggie can't deny how beautiful they look. And what he also can't deny is the fact that he's grown attached their owner.

He can’t help but imagine what the future could hold for the two of them.

But then he remembers who the Prefect is.

He's an otherworlder. The one destined to leave this world behind in favor of the one where he actually belongs.

The only future that exists for Ruggie and the Prefect is one where he waves goodbye as the other man disappears into the Dark Mirror forever.

But that doesn't mean he has to be okay with it. That doesn't mean he can't still want the Prefect to stay, preferably with him.

"Can I ask you something?" Ruggie questions.

"Sure, what is it?" The Prefect responds, looking over at Ruggie, the serene expression on his face only further solidifying his feelings.

"Just out of curiosity, what would you do if you couldn't go back to your world?" Ruggie asks, noting how the other man tenses up at the question.

"W-well, I guess I'd keep going here until I graduate..." The Prefect responds in a way that doesn't fully answer Ruggie's question.

"Ok? And then what about after that?" Ruggie pushes.

".......................To be honest, I try not to think about it." The Prefect finally answers with a sigh, "People always say that graduating from here basically guarantees success in life, but how many high-ranking, high-paying jobs are actually there for someone like me in a world like this, even as a so-called 'beast tamer'? And that's not even accounting for me not having any official documentation since I wasn't born here! Hell, the most Crowley will do is cover up the fact that he has an undocumented individual among his students, so if I can't find a way to become a citizen by graduation, I'm out of luck!" He concludes while bringing his hands to his face in frustration.

Ruggie...can't say he's ever thought about that. And now he's feeling extra bad for the Prefect as he thinks of ways he might be able to help.

And it's then that he remembers a certain law in the Sunset Savanna and his trademark mischievous smile spreads across his face.

"Y'know, if citizenship's a big issue for you, we could always get married!" He blurts out, breaking the other man out of his wallowing as he chokes in surprise before letting out a laugh.

"You shouldn't joke about that!" The Prefect says with a giggle and a playful push against the hyena's shoulder.

"Hey! I'm serious!" Ruggie responds in a very unserious tone, "One of the laws in the Sunset Savanna says that if you marry one of its citizens, then you'll become a full citizen yourself!"

The Prefect's laughter dies down as he ponders this information, "Wait, really? How did THAT come about?" He asks, genuinely interested.

"Well, since it's ruled by lions, the kingdom's basically viewed as one, giant pride so being accepted by one of its members means being accepted into the pride, no questions asked." Ruggie explains.

"I feel like that leaves a lot of room for exploitation, though." The Prefect says thoughtfully.

"Hey, that works out for you, though. Doesn't it?" Ruggie says cheekily, earning another soft push against his shoulder.

"Don't act like this is set in stone already when we haven't even been on a proper date yet!" The other man argues lightheartedly.

"Well, if we're not counting all those study dates and market dates, then I guess you're right." Ruggie says bluntly, "So I'm free this Saturday if you wanna make it official."

The Prefect’s giggles stop as he looks at the hyena in surprise, who looks back at him with the first serious expression he's worn since the start of the conversation.

"I want you to know that I'm actually serious about this." Ruggie says while looking into the Prefect’s eyes, "I wouldn't throw an idea like that around willy-nilly, y'know."

The other man blinks for a couple seconds before his expression softens, "Alright, fine. How about this: IF I can't go home AND we both feel the same way after graduation, then I'll marry you. Deal?" He says while holding out his hand, clearly not fully convinced about Ruggie's conviction.

"Shishishi, deal!" The hyena says before shaking the Prefect’s hand and turning his head back towards the night sky, satisfied.

"Heh. So you're free this Saturday, huh?" The Prefect says before leaning over and pressing a kiss onto Ruggie's cheek, causing his heart rate to accelerate, "I'll look forward to it."

With heat blooming on his face, Ruggie feels that warm feeling in his chest again, but this time, he's able to put a name to it: Love.

[claritys-silly-things]

Another sneak peak from chapter six of my fic 🧍🏽‍♂️👍🏽:

“Husk heard a sigh and a rustling of clothes. He dared take a peek when the sound stopped and he felt the bed dip beside him. Thankfully, Angel had listened to Husk and put a pair of fancy white fluffy pyjama pants, fuzzy socks, and his somewhat signature off-the-shoulder pink fuzzy sweater.

Looks soft…like I could just…

‘Uh, Husk? Whatcha doin’ bud?’ Husk snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he had grabbed onto the fabric of Angel’s sweater.

‘Ah shit- My bad, Legs. I’m not sure what happened. The sweater just looked so soft…Everything about you looks so soft right now…’ Husk was rambling.

He was tired and he had been drinking all day.

No fuckin’ shit, Husker, he thought to himself.

The alcohol had finally started to kick in. Usually Husk would be in his room at this point, sleeping off the tipsiness. But he had to take care of Angel tonight, and Angel insisted he stay.

Husk honestly didn’t mind staying. But man was he a bit off in the noggin right now.

Angel looked at Husk with a bit of a confused expression, thinking about what the feline had said, before scooting back on the bed, more towards his pillows.

Shit, I scared him off…he’s been dealing with fucks touching him all over all day without consent…and now I go and do it?! Fuck dammit, Husker!

Then Angel patted the spot next to him. Husk looked at him with confusion.

‘Get ya ass over here Whiskers, before I send ya to your room.’”

[reveluving]

so many amazing thots in my inbox, including a bunch for benny!! before I go into depth tho, can I just leave you guys with a quick one of my own 👉🏼👈🏼

» fancy reading another triple frontier fic? check out the m.list!

just imagine using your phone while laying on your stomach on the bed, occasionally talking and laughing with benny as he walks in and out of the bathroom to get ready for bed.

only, he's not necessarily ready to go to sleep.

your feel the bed dip at the foot of your bed, and as soon as you turn around, you're met with the sight of benny straddling your body, his frame easily hovering over yours with no issue.

"what're you watching, angel?"

"I... cat videos?" there was no way you could've responded without stuttering. he'd chuckle, nuzzling into your shoulder and letting out a sound of content like a feline of your own.

he'd place a hand on your back, not letting you turn your body around before whispering in your ear, "just keep watching."

like hell you could, but he wasn't going to continue unless you followed his orders, and so you did as you were told, though barely able to focus on the cute video or even the words on the screen.

he'd hold himself up with one arm, perched just beside your head while the other slowly slides under the hem of your shirt, feeling his smirk against your neck when his cold fingertips meet your body, undeniably heating up. he's already move your shirt up halfway, his hands alternating between rubbing your back and your sides.

his pesky hand couldn't deny moving further, not when he could feel the curve of your breast calling out to him. he eventually teases your nipple by flicking them, tutting when your arch your back before giving you what you want with a soft pinch.

but listen, this man's self control can only go so far, his limit finally reached when he hears your heavy breaths, too shy to ask him for more and instead, squirming and being the good girl you are. though, he'd rather lose to a lightweight than letting you come undone on the sheets.

knowing you're no longer focused on your phone, he'd turn it off, placing it on the nightstand before caging you to the mattress by your wrists, his lustful state finally taking over when he licks a stripe up your shoulder.

"let's play, angel."

[akutasoda]

I JUST READ YOUR NATSUME X CATSHIFTER! READER STORY AND IM INLOVE! CAN I REQUEST A PART TWO FOR THAT FIC?

(It’s making me think about that movie Aristocats)

feline fancies part 2

synopsis - when natsume meets someone just like him

includes - natsume

warnings - gn!reader, cat-shifter reader, fluff, slight angst?, wc - 528

a/n: hehe thank you! more than happy to write more!

dazai had once walked into the agency just in time to see haruno and naomi fussing over a calico and another feline right outside the entrance. two cats that seemed earily familiar and it didn't take long for him to place that familiar sight. haruno first noticed him and smiled before asking if he'd ever met mii before.

you remember when natsume first told you about his little nickname given by some agency clerks - you thought it was quite adorable. dazai offered a faux smile back and replied with a brief 'yeah'. this would mark the first time he saw the two felines since his last visit to lupin all those years ago and once he had passed the two ladies fussing over the both of you, he allowed a small smile to grace his lips.

even after all this time 'sensei' still was roaming around with his presumed lover. it was a bittersweet memento to dazai, the final reminder of his youth - although it did seem a bit weird that the two felines didn't look any older than they did all those years ago.

ango wasn't one for sentimental thoughts. but most of the time the thing that always came back to haunt him was his betrayal all those years ago. it was a deep regret of his. the biggest reminder always came in the form of a calico with another feline companion. how could he not recognise the two of you?

all these years and the two cats still stuck together, rather admirable in his eyes. for some reason taneda was occasionally visited by the calico dazai dubbed 'sensei' and occasionally the other feline would tag along. he really couldn't help but be curious about it but taneda always brushed him off.

he guessed it was a sort of comfort after a while. even affter all that's happened - mainly due to him - atleast something has remained and stood the test of time.

truth be told, when natsume explained to you what he did even after his retirement you were quite impressed. you admired it and it was rather nice to know he still cared about maintaining the peace he helped create all those years ago. and so when he invited you to tag along you didn't mind.

one it was more time spent with your lover and two it was entertaining to meet the characters he helped form. but when he wasn't delivering information was your favourite time with him, who wouldn't just want to relax with their lover.

and so wether it be louging around in your residence or on one of yokohama's many tall buildings admiring the view, that was your favourite time. it was just the two of you, no-one else mattered in this time except your lover and that was all you needed.

the life you had built with your lover seemed all too perfect. the main cause being the fact that you were both 'cat-shifters'. but you'd happily indulge yourself in it and so would natsume. it was a slow life filled with many treasured moments and sometimes it felt like the two of you were in your own little world.

[grizzersmamma]

A Gentle Touch | Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish | Daemon AU

Summary: First fic in my Call of Duty daemon AU. A short fic about Soap and Ghost touching each other's daemons for the first time.

Notes: Unedited we die like OG Ghost.

Pairing:  Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish.

Warnings: Fluff, Past Childhood Trauma.

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Next

John often wonders what must have happened in Simon’s life for his daemon to pick such a fierce form to settle on. Elanor is a beautiful creature, sleek and elegant and dark as the night. A stunning panther as large and dangerous as her human, able to go from quiet and disinterested to fighting with a surprising amount of power and speed in the blink of an eye. 

She tears through their enemies with brutal strength, yet still dances about the battlefield with unmatched grace and agility. John can never resist pausing to watch her work, just as taken with her as he is with her counterpart. He knows he must look like a lovestruck fool, but he can’t help it, far too enamoured.  

It was difficult to describe what it was between Simon and himself – he found all the potential labels lacking... something – boyfriend sounded too childish for the intensity of their relationship and partner felt too formal. They were just Ghost and Soap. Johnny and Simon. A package deal. Two halves of a single entity.  

Despite their closeness, Simon still had a certain weariness around their daemons. He would always get so visibly anxious whenever Gwen, Johnny’s daemon, got too close to him. He will allow the other daemon near his own, but will otherwise shy away from her.  

Elanor is always happy to receive attention from Gwen, laying passively while the honey badger eagerly grooms her fur. Price seems to think it’s absolutely hilarious whenever he sees the beastly daemon rumbling away happily while her face is covered with drool. In public, the two daemons are the picture of professionalism, but the moment they’re away from prying eyes? The poor feline is being smothered with affection.  

The first time Johnny asks if Simon would like to pet Gwen, the man had jerked back as if he’d been physically struck. “Why would I do that?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed in what must be a scowl behind his mask.  

It’s difficult to not take his clear reluctance to heart, stomach twisting uncomfortably. Perhaps he had misjudged how their relationship was progressing? They had slept together, spent evenings whispering sweet nothings to one another and discussed fanciful dreams of what the future may hold. Yet, he must have misread things if Simon is so repulsed by the idea.  

He’s about to brush off the idea when Simon continues, “why would you want me to hurt you?”  

Soap simply blinks, “why would that hurt me?” he asks, gently taking Simon’s hand and encouraging him to sit on the bed beside him. He gets the feeling this is going to be a long conversation.  

“Touching her will hurt you,” Simon sounds just as confused as John feels.  

“You wouldn’t hurt me, Simon,” he starts gently, encouraging Gwen up and onto his lap, “I know you wouldn’t, I trust you.” He knows it can certainly hurt when someone grabs another person’s daemon as it’s easy to use too much force, but surely Simon knows how intimate the action can be, right? How it can bring two people so much pleasure and joy? 

It seems that is not the case, as Simon hesitates, staring hard at the small honey badger. “You’re sure you want me to touch her?” his gaze is intense, searching for even the tiniest hint of unease or uncertainty.  

John nods, “of course, but only if you’re comfortable with it.” 

Gwen crawls to the very edge of his lap, leaning forward until her neck is stretched out towards Simon. He’s cautious to respond, offering out a hand to her so she can made the first move, freezing in place as though he’s dealing with a wounded animal.  

The badger, although very excited to finally be able to interact with Simon, moves slowly to nudge her nose against his open palm. She gives it a quick sniff, pleased when she encounters his familiar scent, before nuzzling her face against him. He’s still wearing gloves, the layer of fabric still separating them from true contact, but it’s a start.  

Over the weeks that follow, Simon begins to grow more comfortable touching the smaller daemon, getting into the habit of scratching her head whenever she’s within reach.  

It isn’t for another month that he finally places an ungloved hand to the top of Gwen’s head. Simon’s eyes are constantly darting between her and Soap, waiting until he’s sure neither are distressed, before his fingers slowly, very slowly begin to caress the animal’s fur.  

The sensation of Simon’s hand so tenderly stroking his daemon has John near enough melting, his whole body tingling with delight. His head is fuzzy, hardly a thought passing between his ears, and he can tell Gwen feels the exact same given the way she flops down into Simon’s lap with a pleased sigh. That reaction seems to be all that Simon needs to relax into the action, starting to scratch just under Gwen’s chin, before massaging his fingers down her spine.  

By the end of it, both Soap and his daemon are practically a happy puddle stretched out on the bed, drifting just on the edge of sleep.  

Touching Elanor is a much more complicated subject.  

He doesn’t want to ask to touch her, not when Simon clearly has some sort of trauma surrounding people touching her without permission. He wants to allow her to come to him first, lest either of them feel as though he’s trying to pressure them. They don’t discuss it and, after a while, John simply forgets about it, content with knowing they will never feel comfortable enough to allow it.  

He is proven wrong, however, one day when he’s sitting on his bed, working on a sketch in his journal. Simon is across the room sat at Soap’s desk working on some paperwork.  

From the corner of his eye he sees Elanor slink over, creeping up and onto the mattress. He isn’t paying much attention, not until she lays down right beside him, her side brushing up against his leg. His stomach flips as a thrill runs down his spine. Glancing up at Simon, he sees the other man hasn’t reacted, continuing to scratch away at the papers before him.  

“Elanor?” he whispers to the massive cat, meeting her beautiful golden eyes.  

She blinks up at him, staring at him silently.  

John moves his hand toward her, pausing just before her face to give the feline the chance to move away should she need it. But to his surprise, she leans into his touch, rumbling in obvious delight.  

Simon, meanwhile, whirls around as though he’d been jabbed, gaping at John and then at his own daemon. He looks anxious, but says nothing, only watching how John gently cards his fingers through the cat’s dark fur. The brit shivers, breath catching as Soap’s fingers feather down her back.  

“Sorry,” John laughs, pausing his movements, “is this... is this okay?” 

Simon’s throat bobs in a dry swallow, “yeah, uh, yeah, it’s fine.” His face is brightly flushed, looking everywhere but at John. His shoulders have drooped and he seems to be struggling to remain upright, hands tightly gripping the desk. “You can keep going if you want,” he mumbles.  

Trust Simon to never ask for something he wants, simply allude to it vaguely. Regardless, John starts stroking Elanor’s soft fur, his whole chest filling with pride at the way both man and daemon relax. Gwen cuddles up against Elanor, nosing into the panther’s side, the two daemons quickly passing out together.  

When John finally looks over again at Simon, the man is resting on the desk, peacefully asleep just like his daemon.  

[darsynia]

Just Right | Ch 8 (complete)

(Steve Rogers x F!Reader, post-Ultron Multichapter)

Summary:

You’ve been in love with Steve Rogers for at least a year, but he treats you the same way he treats every other member of the team– with respect, but nothing more. It takes an inter-dimensional mistake and a whole second, more assertive, actually interested Steve for you to realize that you don’t want just any version of Steve Rogers– you want the one you’ve been pining for all this time.

Length: 4,546 (with epilogue)

FIC MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Tags: @ronearoundblindly @munstysmind @tiny-anne @themaradaniels @starryeyes2000 @chickensarentcheap @isasalom @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @deepbatched @qvnthesia @ekoannie-chan

Excerpt:

“You look great,” he says, holding out a hand. You blink at him for a second, speechless at how good he looks in his crisp blue button-down and ironed khakis. You have a sneaking suspicion he shined his shoes, and there are wet comb marks in his freshly-washed hair. “‘Dine?” he prompts.

“I wasn’t saying all of those complimentary things I’m thinking out loud, was I?” you tease. Steve shakes his head, amused, and you add, “You look handsome as heck, we’ll go with that.”

His sheepish smile is appreciative, but he nods down at his hand.

“Shoot, sorry--” you say, clapping your hand down on his. You’re expecting him to maybe guide you to the car, but after a second of surprise, Steve shifts his grip and bends down to kiss the back of your hand. “Oh god, I flubbed that,” you breathe, embarrassed.

Chapter Eight

“He finally asked you. Finally! And he spent more time on the periodic table gimmick than giving you a time and place?”

“Good morning, Nat.” You’re kind of proud of your cool, not at all extremely-excited-by-her-implications tone.

“And you!” Natasha gets up from your desk with the kind of feline grace you’ll never manage. “He says you’ve liked him for a while. Even getting that out of him was like pulling teeth.”

“It’s worse,” you smile. “I told him I love him.”

Nat just looks at you. “Okay, I was going to let you pick which out of the two of you needs the most slapping around, but it’s definitely him.” She shifts her tone to one that’s more cheerful. “Do you want me to suggest something fancy to Steve?”

You shake your head.

“Good.” Natasha starts for the door, stops, and turns around. “Sam and I are going to plan a send-off for Rogers. Tony’s idea. You two are invited, but…”

“It’s not about us. I get it,” you tell her, pleased. Steve had clearly talked to Tony, and for once, Tony had subsumed his ego enough to do the exact right thing. You’ve earned yourself a nod, and with that, Natasha’s out of the room. You do your best to get on with your job for the rest of the day, but there’s a constant hum of excitement about your date that permeates everything. 

You’d gotten a brief message from Steve (Will you do me the honor of meeting me out front at 6:30 this evening? Natasha says to tell you ‘business casual, no suit.’ ~Steve), so you put on something elegant and flowy. It’s a lovely evening with a slight breeze, and you step outside at 6:28. As soon as you do, you hear a car start up in the parking lot. It pulls up three feet away, and Steve gets out and comes over.

“You look great,” he says, holding out a hand. You blink at him for a second, speechless at how good he looks in his crisp blue button-down and ironed khakis. You have a sneaking suspicion he shined his shoes, and there are wet comb marks in his freshly-washed hair. “‘Dine?” he prompts.

“I wasn’t saying all of those complimentary things I’m thinking out loud, was I?” you tease. Steve shakes his head, amused, and you add, “You look handsome as heck, we’ll go with that.”

His sheepish smile is appreciative, but he nods down at his hand.

“Shoot, sorry--” you say, clapping your hand down on his. You’re expecting him to maybe guide you to the car, but after a second of surprise, Steve shifts his grip and bends down to kiss the back of your hand. “Oh god, I flubbed that,” you breathe, embarrassed.

“Not at all,” he promises, letting go to jog to the car to open the door. “You didn’t expect me to do that, which made it more special.”

“In that spirit--” You arch up to kiss his cheek before you get in the car.

Once both of you are buckled in and he starts driving, Steve glances over at you briefly. “I hope you don’t mind, it’ll be a bit of a drive. When we go to the little town nearby, the staff get stressed out. Sometimes a patron will post on social media, and they get a bunch of customers who post bad reviews if we’re gone already, that kind of thing.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, we like to do the takeout thing, so they don’t miss out on our business.” He shoots a look over. “Natasha says you should go out more.”

“You don’t go out either,” you point out. “I think I’ve only seen you dressed up for interviews or one of Tony’s fancy parties.”

“That’s part of the fun though, isn’t it? The longer you’re with someone, the longer you know them, the more you fill in all the different outfits.”

You love that viewpoint, but there’s a little bit of traffic as he shifts to an interstate, so you make an ‘attentive listening noise’ and let yourself just watch Steve as he handles the car. There’s a small splotch of red on his cheeks. You’d like to think it’s because he said ‘with someone’ before actually defining whether the two of you are 'with' each other.

The restaurant is perfect, a little Italian place with delicious food and high separators between the tables, so your candle-lit table feels private and cozy. You and Steve talk mostly about the movies he’s been watching, but when he sees you stiffen a little after he brings up a love declaration in one of them, his expression sobers.

“I wanted to tell you-- I know you said you were doing everything backwards, and I don’t want you to think that I’m ignoring what you said. It means the world to me,” Steve says, looking you straight in the eyes. There’s something powerful about how he says ‘means’ instead of ‘meant,’ like to him your words are active, vital. He isn’t leaving them in the past. “The thing is, I don’t think I--” 

He breaks off and takes a big drink of his water glass, and you hold yourself as steady as possible without trying to look impatient in your anticipation. You remind yourself of the expression he’d worn on his face while carrying you back to your quarters. That adoring look happened before you’d said anything, and it was real. It was this Steve. 

“How do you tell a woman that you love her before you even have a first date? I wanted to. I feel it, but I have to do this right.”

It’s like the truth of his heart is brushing past you in a crowded Regency ballroom, close but just separate enough for decency’s sake. You don’t think Steve Rogers has watched many period dramas, so explaining that would probably fall flat. You decide to go with something else.

“Well, this is just like the clothes thing, right? We fill in those feelings, those first times, as we go.”

His relief is endearing. “Yes. Yes.” Steve reaches out his hand and takes yours, squeezing it a little too tightly, which is just perfect, in your opinion.

On the drive back, you remember the thing you’d wanted to bring up at dinner. It’s dark out, and maybe that’s better than bringing up Gold Steve where he can see your expression across the table and make assumptions.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you if you could do me a favor? About Rogers.”

“What do you need?”

“I want to save his life, Steve. I want to have a hand in making that possible-- but I was thinking about what it might feel like for him if he figures out that armor is altered before the fall.” You’re getting emotional, but you tell yourself it’s a mission, that it’s too important to get sidetracked. With a harsh swallow against your suddenly sore throat, you go on. “If it doesn’t work, his last moments with a version of me will be deceptive. I can’t do that to him.”

You’re so caught up in trying to fight back the images of Gold Steve realizing you’d lied to him that you don’t realize that the car is stopped until Steve turns his whole upper body toward you, something he wouldn’t do while driving.

“Hey, c’mere,” Steve says, leaning over, wrapping you in his warm, sturdy arms for a hug. “I’ll do what you’re asking because it’s important to you, but I’d like to think I’d understand and forgive you, if it were me.”

You’re in tears, and they’re going to soak into his shirt. “It is you, Steve! He’s another you. I’m sending a you to maybe die, and I hate it, I hate it! I can’t even give him hope in case he decides not to wear the armor and for sure dies-- and I’m crying on you again! Do not let me mess up your shirt, Steve Rogers!”

“You’re really making it hard for me not to say it, sweetheart,” Steve says, pulling back to steal a kiss. You can tell that he’d meant it to be brief, but as soon as your lips touch, your hands grasp his shirt in delight, keeping him in place. Steve likes that, enough to deepen the kiss for a few seconds before he makes a little growling sound and drags himself away.

He shakes his hands out over the dash like he’s shedding excess energy (which you get, you really get, because you'll be energized until the end of time on ‘sweetheart’ alone), sets them on the steering wheel, and puts the car back into gear. As Steve pulls out of the empty parking lot he’d stopped in, he says, “You’re saying you don’t want to run point, yes? That knowing some of the plan is bad enough?”

“Yes, exactly. It’s just enough plausible deniability if I don’t know what exactly Tony changes-- Oh, but I shouldn’t even know abou--”

“‘Dine, you’re worrying too much,” Steve interrupts. “All we can do is our best. You’re doing your best, and it’s in service of saving his life. If he loves you, and I think he does, he’ll appreciate that.”

You sniffle defensively. “I’m counting that, you know.”

The light turns green, but Steve looks over at you and doesn’t start driving until you meet his eyes. “Good.”

He suggests you look in the glove compartment for tissues, and you find some. As you clean yourself up, Steve puts on some jazz, and you fall into a companionable silence for the rest of the drive. It wouldn’t help to bring it up, but you think Steve’s glad he’s found a way around his own prohibition on saying he loves you. 

In a way, it’s kind of a lesson about your dilemma about Gold Steve, too. The more you think about it, the more proud you are-- Captain America is an icon, standing for truth, moral certitude, and strength, but he’s smart, too. That gets overlooked by the public at large, and you’re glad you’re privileged enough to know it.

It’s three more days before Tony’s finished with his dual project, which you find out about because he petulantly stomps in to grab breakfast on the morning of the third day, Pepper at his heels.

“I’m not allowed to celebrate being a complete overlooked genius because my stomach growls too loudly,” he grumbles, slamming down a gallon of milk beside a bowl and spoon. “I’m having Captain Crunch PEANUT BUTTER. See if you like how that tastes in bed later.”

“You’re more than welcome to celebrate alone,” Pepper says mildly.

You’re finished with your food, so you get up and excuse yourself as quickly as possible, catching Steve’s eye as you slip through the door. He nods; you’re on the same wavelength.

According to FRIDAY, Gold Steve is in the Bumble, and he has been for eighteen hours. You know there’s a bathroom in there, and a fridge with energy-replenishing foods, but you can’t help but think he’s hiding from you in particular.

With that in mind, you’re actually surprised when the door opens to let you in-- but then you remember FRIDAY’s ‘interpersonal protocol.’ You slip off your shoes to cover the sound of your footfalls, and on a hunch, you go looking for the side room with the punching bags. Sure enough, Gold Steve is sitting up against the wall reading a book, his legs stretched out in front of him on a bedroll.

Impulsively, you dash into the room, positioning yourself so you’re standing over his legs. Gold Steve is startled, and it’s awkward and uncomfortable, but he can’t get up without pushing you out of the way. That means he’s going to have to listen to you.

“‘Dine,” he starts, but you interrupt him.

“Why the hell are you hiding in here? What are you living on, protein bars? It’s been days!”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think I’ve gotten to spend this much time to myself since the serum. It’s been a gift.”

“You shouldn’t have to contemplate your death during that time,” you shoot back, but your anger has lost its bite.

“I don’t know. It would be a shame to waste that privilege. Not many people have that,” he says-- and you can see it. Gold Steve has gone through the stages of grief, all of them, and you’re stuck on anger.

Instead of just collapsing onto your knees and screaming, you cast your mind around for something, anything to explain to him that his loss means something. You come up with something, but it’ll probably hurt him, which is the last thing you want to do.

The anger takes over anyway.

“Maybe I could go to your universe?” you say, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Your Tony could send me back early, so one of me can go with you. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t have to do it alone? You don’t deserve to do it alone!”

Gold Steve scrambles to his feet, frantic horror in his eyes.

“Promise me. Promise me you will not do that.” He looks down at both of his hands, as if lamenting that he only has his strength to fight with. “Dine-- if I let you do that, I wouldn’t deserve to love you.”

It’s so close to the words your Steve said to you that you feel all the fury drain away, and with it, your ability to stand. You end up in a heap on his bedroll, and Steve kneels beside you, hands held near but apart. It’s not his place to comfort you, and both of you know it.

It’s only his place to hurt you, no matter how much he wishes differently.

“There’s a thing for you tonight.”

“I know.”

“I can stay away. I can--”

“Please don’t.”

You reach out and squeeze his hand, crossing the boundary the two of you have set. He doesn’t turn his hand to take yours, but his thumb swipes a brief caress before he holds still.

“I don’t want you to remember me like this,” you whimper, swiping at your face with your other sleeve. “I think you’re the best man to ever live. You need to know that.” Your one comfort is that if your plan succeeds, his Brigandine will absolutely know that. God, you hope it works. “That’s why I’m not trying to make you stay. I couldn’t do that to you. But please, Steve. Please understand that if there was any way this situation could be different--”

Gold Steve’s voice is gentle, kind, and sad, but he doesn’t pull away, and neither do you. “I understand.”

You dress to stun for the party, but you’re planning to show up late, drink a toast to Gold Steve, give him a kiss on the cheek, and get the hell out of there. He deserves a last glimpse of you glowing, happy, smiling, and twenty minutes is just about all you have in you.

Right when you arrive, you see that Gold Steve is standing in front of a table covered in small gifts and one of those ridiculous backpacks they make for school kids, the kind that is basically just one big sequin-covered Captain America shield with shoulder straps. 

As you walk over, Tony gives Gold Steve a wrapped gift. “This is my last attempt to bribe you into telling me more about this calamity you’re trying to fix,” he jokes.

“What would your father say about you trying to change history, Tony?” Gold Steve teases as he opens the package.

You can’t hear what the response is, because inside the wrapping is the alcohol Tony had planned to buy with the $50 from the name bet you lost.

You have to walk over to the window to collect yourself, or you’re going to be all runny mascara and smudged lipstick, and Gold Steve deserves better than that as a ‘last look.’ It’s already been agreed that he’ll leave first thing in the morning, with only Steve, Sam, and Tony in attendance. You’ve just about mastered your emotions when you hear Tony calling out your name.

“I wrapped up your thing, come hand it over!”

You paste on as genuine a smile as you can and turn around. Tony’s halfway to you, and he’s holding out a package, mouthing the word ‘armor.’ You want to yell at him-- it wasn’t supposed to be you that gives it to Gold Steve, but Tony has neatly maneuvered you into getting the credit. Any reticence on your part is going to give away the game.

“Tony’s the one who fixed it,” you say reluctantly, when you get over to the table. Gold Steve’s appreciative reaction to your outfit is good for your ego, at least.

“I don’t think this is going to fit with everything else in here,” he jokes, holding the package up against the backpack.

“You’re supposed to wear it,” Steve says, coming over to stand behind you. He’s just a little closer than maybe he ought to be, and it’s exactly right-- both a claim and a pillar of support.

“Oh!” Gold Steve holds the armor up when he gets the package open, and that’s when you realize that Tony and Steve had set you up, in a way only two people who genuinely care about you could manage.

The armor looks completely unaltered. You won’t spend months tossing and turning in your sleep worrying about Gold Steve learning about your deception, agonizing over him figuring out your Hail Mary pass.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he says to you, holding the mass of engineering and fabric up to his chest.

“Yes I did,” you tell him.

You don’t sleep that night. You also don’t go anywhere; you and Steve had persuaded Gold Steve to sleep in his quarters instead of on the bedroll, and your concession to that is to stay in your room.

There’s a small part of you that wonders if Gold Steve couldn’t bear to picture you and Steve having any kind of romantic moment on his last night on a planet that has a ‘you’ on it. That’s… fair, honestly.

You skip breakfast so you can get to your desk early, and your one concession to what’s happening in Tony’s lab right now is to ask FRIDAY to hide all of the clocks, even the ones on your computer. The last time Steve and Gold Steve were out on a mission, you’d been deep in Howard Stark’s notes, so you open up the main file, scanning through to see if there’s something you haven’t read yet. There isn’t, of course, but it doesn’t hurt to--

Your breath catches.

There’s a new file, but you’re so surprised to see it that you scroll past, and then when you move back up, you aren’t sure where to look. You’re sure you saw it, though, because the date notation had been so different from the others in there that…

“FRIDAY, can you sort these by date?”

As soon as the files shuffle up, you scroll all the way down, and there it is. The ‘last edited’ date on the file is from the night before.

With your heart in your throat and suspicion replacing some of your blood volume, you open the file. It’s written like a diary entry, talking about a time when Howard ran into a strange scientist at the research installation installed in Camp Lehigh. The narrative is unexpectedly exciting; two strange men had been seen, and Stark speaks about some missing materials at Dr. Pym’s lab that seemed to miraculously reappear later in the day.

It’s ‘miraculously reappear’ that has you scrolling to the bottom of the entry to see an additional note.

It’s signed by ‘Gold Steve.’

You shiver, staring at the words, at the apology right before his signature.

I would never be able to forgive myself, nor could I die with a clear conscience, if I didn’t tell you how to prevent the same disaster from happening here.

“FRIDAY what time is it?” you gasp out.

“It is 8:15 AM.”

You throw yourself out of your chair and sprint to the door. Never in your life have you ever run this fast, and FRIDAY is right there with you, opening the elevator doors so you don’t even have to slow down.

The doors open into Stark’s lab, and you skid out, causing the ring of men facing a glowing blue column to turn toward you in surprise. Behind them is the fading image of Gold Steve, and all you can do is mouth the words ‘thank you’ and blow him a kiss as he dematerializes.

“Okay, not to fuck up a phenomenal last-minute goodbye, but if you were hoping to hop in there with him, I’m going to have to design some sort of detention anklet for you,” Tony says sternly.

“He told us how to avoid it! The thing that killed everyone. He left it in your father’s diary. In the notes,” you say between desperate gulps of air. Steve’s already there, pulling you close, stroking your back, kissing your hair. You know exactly what he’s doing, because you’ve felt a Steve Rogers kiss you like that before. The thought makes you cling to him more tightly.

“Son of a bitch,” Tony says admiringly. “That’s what he meant, last night!”

“Hey now!” Steve objects loudly, as Sam doubles over in laughter.

The End

Epilogue

It’s probably the hottest day of the summer, but for once, it’s not storming. You secretly wonder if Tony’s got some kind of weather-altering machine that he’s employed to make this party of his a success. You’re wearing a black polka-dot vintage swimsuit under your electric blue sundress, and you’re very much hoping your loving boyfriend Steve Rogers will appreciate the embroidered Captain America shields you had sewn onto your shoulder straps. You’d be standing with him, but he’s over near the grill in the sun, and you love him, but maybe not that much.

The drinks are already flowing under the tent Tony’s had erected poolside, but as you grab an ice cube to press to your pulse points, you see a new car drive up and park in the private lot Tony has rented for the occasion. As far as you know, everyone’s already here, so--

As soon as the sole occupant starts walking toward your pavilion with a puppy on a leash, Tony’s already tipsy and in rare form. “Carl, please don’t tell me that is your new baby! I think I would have remembered if your wife was a dog.”

There’s a murmur of shocked, amused voices, but when Carl walks up, he’s grinning. “New baby is at home and doing just fine. I’m just a delivery boy today.” He leans down and picks up the puppy, who you now see is wearing an adorable miniature backpack that looks a lot like the one Sam and Nat had bought for Gold Steve’s keepsakes. “This little guy appeared in our house a day ago.”

You rush over right as Carl calls out your name. “I think this is for you?” he says, and pushes the puppy into your arms. It immediately starts squirming and licking your face, so much so that you can’t get ahold of the backpack.

“There’s a note pinned--” someone says, but Steve’s already there. He gently tugs the backpack off and holds it up to show you.

For ‘Stine’

“Is that a ‘ship’ name? Pepper, come look!” Tony crows. In a quieter voice, he says, “She’ll never forgive me for letting slip the word ‘Pepperony’ in an interview. I was, of course, so hurt that she had to make it up to me. Repeatedly. Pepper?”  

Tony runs off to find his girlfriend, and you and Steve look at each other, deeply shaken.

“You read that, and I’ll take the puppy, okay?” Natasha says, not waiting for a response as she scoops the dog from your nerveless fingers.

Inside the backpack is a folded note, and the two of you crowd together to read it.

Dear Steve and Dine,

Obviously I can’t tell you everything that happened, but I couldn’t let you wonder, not after I realized what you’d done.

First of all: You saved my life. Thank you. I imagine it was hard to keep the armor’s secret from me, but I have an idea of why you did it, and I don’t think I would have done anything differently, if I’d been in your position.

Second of all: I suspect that Dine won’t be able to rest until she knows what happened, so I’ll tell you this much: Steve and I both went to the planet. We decided that the most fair thing to do would be to fight each other. We figured one of us would end up falling and the other would go home, but that’s not what happened. We both fell. I woke up with the stone.

Steve, I understand now that I was asking you to bear this terrible weight of survival, when I told you what I was planning. I only hope that you can come up with a way to prevent this before it happens, so you don’t have to feel like this. My only consolation is that I had every intention of dying, if need be, and I will use the life I’ve been given to make the world a better place for everyone we’ve brought back.

I can’t tell you much else, because everything’s just happened, and I have some wooing to do, thanks to you two and Tony.

Love,

‘Gold’ Steve

Ps. ‘my’ Tony would like you to know that I rejected his, and I quote, ‘perfectly good nickname: ‘Brigandogers’’ or ‘Dodger’ for short.

Sounds like a great name for a dog, no?

“It worked,” Steve breathes. You nod, feeling numb. “Dine?”

“I didn’t-- I could have sent two armors. We could have waited and made--”

“Hey, no. Stop that. You can only do what you can do. You couldn’t have known.” He cups your face with his hands and forces you to look at him. “He’s trusting you, and so am I. He didn’t have to tell us. It’s the truth, sweetheart. The unvarnished truth. Sometimes the truth hurts.”

You rest both hands on his wrists and nod, fighting back your tears. “I love you. That’s the truth.”

“I love you too,” Steve says. You’ve lost count of how many times he's said it by now, but that’s the point. You two have moved on to filling in other things, other firsts, and thanks to Gold Steve, you have more time to do that. Thanks to Gold Steve, one of your ‘firsts’ might be defeating the villain that brought him to your universe in the first place.

“Tony says this puppy came from another universe?” Sam says, coming over with the enthusiastic little dog in his arms. “You gonna call it Goldie?”

“Dodger,” Steve says confidently beside you.

[nixie-writes]

What if HuskerDust was canon? Nixie's reaction in a needlessly long fic I wrote in 30 minutes

I wrote this in a record 30 minutes so it isn't my best work but I've been thinking about the possibility of HuskerDust being canon and I wanted to write a piece on how Nixie would react to it. Under the cut for length this is almost 4 pages long in Docs

Nixie belongs to me, Willow belongs to @willowaudreykeyes

Willow’s POV

I sifted through my old stash of honey comb, now dried and useless. I tossed it into the trash bin and picked up a stray stem to examine. The thorns on the stem indicated it was a rose but the bulb was stripped off. Alastor left little gifts like that. I placed his gift on my work table and exited the green house. I entered the hotel and walked into my clinic, opening a drawer. Inside was a variety of small bottles with different labels on them. Checking that I had an adequate amount of each medication I kept in my drawer I left my clinic, locking the door behind me. Lord knows Angel would try to pick the lock to get to the morphine again. 

It was as I was preparing to end the night that Charlie ran up to me, her eyes sparkling. She appeared to have good news. She was prancing, a wide grin on her face, clutching a shopping list. “Guess what guess what guess WHAT!” She squealed, taking my hands in hers. “Angel and Husk came out as a couple! I already have Vaggie and Niffty out to get decorations for a celebration party here. Call Nixie and tell her to get her soaking wet ass here so she can celebrate with us!”

It struck me like a rock to the head. Nixie was going to be destroyed learning that Husk was with Angel. She was practically in love with the feline demon, adoring everything he did. I almost wanted to agree, pretend to call her and lie saying she couldn’t make it for some stupid reason but I knew she’d be both heart broken and beyond pissed if I hid this from her. 

Charlie was by far the most oblivious of the hotel staff. Everyone, excluding her and Husk, knew that she was hopelessly in love with Husk. I already knew Charlie wouldn’t leave me alone until I agreed to call Nixie, so I did. But actually calling her felt sadistic. Would I tell her over the phone what the party was about? No, I’d let her be excited for a party for just a little while. 

With Charlie next to me I hesitantly dialed Nixie. It rang once, then twice. I was hoping she wouldn’t answer but much to my disappointment she did. Charlie leaned over my shoulder to speak into the phone, telling Nixie there was going to be a [arty. She didn’t tell Nixie what the party was for and she didn’t ask, which was a relief. After I hung up I turned to Charlie. 

“You should know by now that Nixie has the biggest crush in the world on Husk, why would you invite her to a party celebrating him getting with someone else?!” I growled up at her. She appeared genuinely surprised. “Wow, really? Well fuck, I shouldn’t have invited her,” she mused. I rolled my eyes. Before I could reprimand Charlie further a portal appeared, specifically a portal made by an Asmodean crystal, and Nixie stepped through it. She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, just a black turtleneck and a pair of loose black jeans. 

“I don’t know what this party is about but I bought a couple things,” she announced as she opened the shopping bag in her left hand. “Let’s see, balloons, streamers, candles and cake mix.” Nixie passed the shopping bag to Charlie. “Thanks, I’ll be sure we use them!” She raced to the kitchen, leaving me alone with Nixie. 

“Oh, Willow. I got that Tundra Brittlebush you asked me to grab,” she told me, reaching into her purse. She pulled out a small bundle of stems adorned in leaves of different colors, most notably white flowers with small petals that curled into the bulb, creating a cradle-like flower. “Thank you,” I replied, taking the stems and placing them in my hair with other herbs I kept on my person for emergency cases. Tundra Brittlebush was native to the Envy ring, where Nixie was from, so she was perfect to get it for me. 

I took a deep sniff; the cake was done. Now all that was left were decorations. Vaggie and Niffty had just arrived with their decorations and Charlie gave them a ladder to set up the decorations. Nixie and I walked over to the bar to stay out of the way and Nixie lit a cigarette. I rolled my eyes. “You know you’re killing your lungs, right?” I countered. She rolled her eyes and took another puff. “They’ll be fine,” she replied nonchalantly. As she took another puff I smacked her on the back where her lung was and she spouted off into a fit of coughing. “You asshole, I had smoke in my throat,” she croaked between coughs. 

After about 10 minutes Vaggie and Niffty had set up decorations, and Charlie was filling the balloons and setting up the streamers. Nixie put out her cigarette and leaned back in the chair. “Any idea who this party is for? A new guest’s birthday?” I gulped. If I told her the truth she’d leave, and if I lied she’d be pissed with me for lying. I gave a noncommittal shrug. “I’m not sure,” Nixie dropped the subject and pulled her phone from her pocket and groaned. 

“For fuck’s sake I can’t leave those dumbasses alone for one night,” she growled. I peered over at her phone and read the news story. Apparently a turf war had broke out on Nixie’s territory; two demons unnamed, meaning they weren’t important, were causing problems in Envy. “Do you need to go?” I asked hopefully. Maybe this turf war could be an excuse for her to not have to be at this party. “No, I’m not worrying about it,” she replied before putting her phone away. So much for that. 

After another 5 minutes of waiting Charlie called to a room, “you can come out now!” Opening the door and walking out was Angel, carrying Husk along by hand. I snatched a look at Nixie, who had narrowed her eye in suspicion, staring at Angel. 

“As everyone knows, Husk and Angel are a couple! And this party is to celebrate them coming out as a couple, so let’s party!” Charlie announced. The whole room clapped for Angel and Husk. Angel was soaking up the attention and Husk looked a little flustered. Even Nixie was clapping, though her expression looked strained. As the clapping died down I expected Nixie to start a fight with Angel; she was looking at him with an expression that screamed anguish. Instead she walked up to Angel and Husk in a leisurely way and congratulated them. “I hope you’re both very happy to be together and I wish you the best of luck,” she told them before going behind the bar without Husk’s permission. “Now if you’ll excuse me…” She muttered as she grabbed a bottle of Hapsburg Absinthe and making her way out the door. 

“Is she uh, okay?” Angel asked, eyeing the door Nixie had just walked out of. I nodded my head quickly. “Oh, of course! She just, uh, likes to celebrate in private. I’ll uh, check on her,” and with that I left the hotel as well. Nixie was sat on the pavement at the beginning of the driveway. She had the bottle of liquor in one hand and a half smoked cigarette in the other. I approached her slowly so as to not startle her and I sat beside her, offering her a sympathetic smile. She gave me a look of pure misery before tipping her head back and chugging more alcohol. 

“Dear Satan I forgot how strong this is,” she muttered as she sat the bottle down on her other side. She took a long drag of her cigarette and breathed out the smoke, iridescent in the glow of the hotel’s lights. She looked over at me with an expectant gaze. “Did you want something?” She inquired, taking another drag. 

“Um, I just… I know this is a lot for you to take in and I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” I replied meekly. Nixie rolled her eye. “Peachy,” she growled before swigging down more alcohol. “Do you want me to sit out here with you for a minute or do you need to be alone?” I asked. Nixie’s shoulders slumped and she sighed. “I wouldn’t mind the company, even if just for a minute,” she replied. I leaned over to the white roses I was growing in the courtyard of the hotel and plucked one, passing it to Nixie. “You’ll find someone else, just be patient and open minded,” I offered my best advice. Nixie examined the rose, stroking the white petal gently. “This is what I get for falling for a sinner,” she mused, placing the rose next to her. I shook my head and gently took her hands. “This isn’t a punishment for falling for a sinner, it’s just bad luck. Maybe you’ll find another sinner you really like,” I suggested, trying to encourage her to cheer up. Nixie shrugged, pulling away. “I don’t know. It’ll take a while to get over him,” she sighed. I nodded my head in understanding. 

We sat outside for about an hour in silence, Nixie drinking and smoking, and me examining the flowers growing in the courtyard. The comfortable silence was broken by Charlie, who came outside to tell us the party was over and everyone should get some rest. I took Nixie’s hands and led her inside, being sure to keep her away from Husk and Angel. I yawned; I was more tired than I thought. “Will you be okay on your own?” I asked her. She nodded her head. “I’m drunk enough to deal with it, go to bed,” she replied. I obeyed, leaving her alone. “Are you coming to bed, Alastor?” I asked my husband. He nodded his head. “Yes, of course, just give me a minute,” he replied. I sighed and went to bed. I knew he was going to talk to Nixie, I could just only hope he wouldn’t be too crass or sadistic. 

Nixie’s POV

After Willow had left I took a seat on a bar stool, placing my half empty bottle on the table and pulling my cigarettes and lighter from my pocket. I was painfully aware of Alastor watching me like a predator would watch prey, but I tried to ignore it and lit my cigarette, taking a long puff. The silence was deafening. 

As if he didn’t know what personal space was Alastor took a seat right next to me, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “You’ve been dreary all night my dear, what’s wrong?” He asked, smiling brightly as ever. I narrowed my eye at him. “Don’t play dumb with me radio prick,” I warned, a hiss in my voice. 

Alastor sighed, patting my back gently. “You poor thing, losing your only love to a hooker,” he mused. “You don’t have to remind me,” I growled at him. Alastor looked me in the eye, his smile more sympathetic than anything. “No, really. I couldn’t imagine losing my lovely Willow to a floozy. Anyone with eyes could see you were lovestruck for that stupid cat for some reason or another, and now he’s with someone else. That must be painful.” He rubbed small circles on my back soothingly. Despite my hatred for him I couldn’t help but appreciate his kindness. 

“Alastor?” I prompted. He hummed in response, gazing at me expectantly. “How do you get over heartbreak?” I inquired. Alastor chuckled; “it sounds cheesy but the only way is to give it time, they say time heals all wounds. Just be patient,” he replied softly. Feeling incredibly drowsy and not caring about my rivalry with the radio demon I leaned my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes. I was immediately drifting off to sleep. Alastor picked me up bridal style and carried me to my room, the static surrounding him playing an old melody I couldn't think of the name of. He dropped me off at my door and patted me on the head, his claws gently touching the tuft of water on my head. “Be patient my dear, you’ll find love again.”

Be patient. 

[fanfic-recs-01]

Jegulus Fics

This is just a list of all the Regulus Black/James Potter fics I like on AO3, if you have any recs for me feel free to send me some!

Updated 5/15/24

Confessing to a lunatic by MiriamMT

~another James tells Sirius he is dating Regulus fic because they are funny.~

my almost lover by alarainai 

~“If I was dating Regulus, I would have noticed.”

A pause. His friends all stare at him with various levels of disbelief. Suddenly, he feels very stupid.

“Are you sure?” Remus asks.~

A star for a summer's day by her_smile_forges_galaxies 

~Barty is in love with Evan, and he doesn't know what to do about it. Regulus is in love with James, and he doesn't know what to do about it.

Luckily for both of them, Barty has a foolproof plan (or maybe not so full proof after all, but you can't blame a guy for trying)~

Regulus Black's Favourite Gryffindor by MiriamMT

~Regulus became an Animagus because he wouldn't let Sirius and his friends become the youngest wizards to have ever accomplished that. Being a cute, black cat he gets into every common room - scratching everyone who tries to touch him, except for a certain James Potter. He also so happens to be able to A) annoy his brother who is allergic to cats and B) overhear interesting conversations.~

sometimes it’s easier to be invisible by introvertedhufflepuff

~Regulus Black hates James Potter. He's loud, egotistic, and replaced Regulus at a time he needed Sirius the most. But when Regulus gets kicked out of his home and forced to live with him, will their spark grow or die?~

In All Your Gorgeous Colours by AlexSW97

~When the Prophet prints a photo of Regulus snogging a bloke in Hogsmeade, Regulus realises he can't stay at Grimmauld Place any longer. He follows after his brother, who ran away only a few months before. Sirius just happens to be living with James, who Regulus has fancied for years.~

Far Too Young to Die by xjustakay

~Sirius couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his little brother behind, left for a life of darkness. James would have his heart broken knowing he could have protected Regulus, too, but did nothing. And thus a master plan is concocted.~

Truth Be Told by QueenOfStormySkies

~James has never had a problem playing Truth or Dare before, but he’s also never had such a big secret to hide.~

comfortably numb by littlelous

~Regulus and Sirius Black have the worst fucking family in the world- James Potter, the best. Sirius is already living with the Potter's, but dire circumstances call for dire actions in the case of one Regulus Black. He hates his brother. He hates his brother's friends. But at this point, he doesn't have a choice. Bitter feelings are worked through, pranks are executed, Quidditch games are played, and teenagers fall in agonizing, beautiful, terrible young love.~

lost and found by rxgulus

~The marauders gain a new companion on their monthly adventures around the grounds of Hogwarts. James Potter finds himself incredibly attached to his new feline friend, so when the cat stops showing up he is understandably devastated. Thankfully, Remus is full of good ideas, and putting up flyers with Whiskers’ cute fluffy face on yields a reward he could never have foreseen.~

You idiot, Potter. by aithusarosekiller

~James didn't know that it was Amortentia...which is why the whole school finds out that he is attracted to Regulus Black. Good one, Sirius.~

James Potter's Application to Court Regulus Black by MiriamMT

~“Hello and welcome, my name is James Potter and this is my presentation on ‘Why I should be allowed to date Regulus Black’.”~

Smash or Pass? by MiriamMT

~Remus and Sirius just moved in together. Their friends get a hold of Sirius' Family Photos and decide to play Smash or Pass - until James sees pictures of a particularly beautiful young man. He immediately wants to meet him, and vows to marry him. Much to Sirius' horror, this man isn't some distant, long-dead cousin but his brother.~

The Mystery of the Pears by sonwar

~n the cave, Regulus doesn’t beg for it to stop. He begs not be left behind, alone.Perhaps this is why, when Kreacher gives one last look over his shoulder and sees terrible, pale hands reaching for his master, he appears in a flash at Regulus’ side, clutches him by the elbow, and Apparates them both out of the cave, directly disobeying his master’s last order.~

Like a Ballast by orphan_account

~When Regulus realises he doesn't want to follow the path his mother set out for him, he attempts to seek support with his brother. Sneaking into Gryffindor Tower is easy, but he chooses the wrong bed, and winds up face-to-face with James Potter, his long-time crush, and the person his family blames for corrupting his brother.~

just lovers (like we were supposed to be) by bizarrestars 

~Or, the one in which James Potter wants to prove he'd be a good boyfriend to Lily Evans and comes up with the brilliant plan to fake date Regulus Black his way into falling in love. It doesn't quite go as anyone expects.~

hard feelings by jilylicious

~in a parallel universe Sirius grabs Regulus' arm right before he vanishes into thin air when he's sixteen~

This House Could Be A Home by Fullmoonstar00

~Sirius Black has been living with the Potter’s for nearly 2 years and is constantly filled with guilt and regret about leaving Regulus behind. In the summer before the Marauder’s sixth year, Regulus turns up at the house with nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to. ~

invisible string by moonysdustymarsbars

~Regulus Black wakes up one morning to find himself in James Potter's bed in the Gryffindor tower. It isn't until it happens again that he questions whether his bed is cursed or if fate is pushing them together.~

[lucky-clover-gazette]

For short fic prompts, maybe Vio and Shadow at a fancy event and they are hiding away somewhere because Vio is being antisocial. Mayhaps it leads to...... kisses 😳

If you wanted to do a modern AU you could have the classic hiding in the bathroom during a house party

i like how i said "short fic," and by no fault of anon, proceeded to crank out 1926 words. my first vidow fic! also on ao3. gotta say, i'd recommend ao3 because they have functional line breaks.

It does strike Vio how bizarre this situation truly is: the same maniac who once personally ordered his execution and nearly destroyed the land of Hyrule, is now sleeping peacefully in his lap. Snoring softly. Contentedly. The guy who once told Vio that he was his first and only friend, the only person he ever trusted, only for Vio to betray him stone-cold and watch him die. That person is currently laying in his lap, defenseless, trusting him to stay.

Read it under the cut:

Shadow feels like an idiot standing around with two glasses. It’s been almost twenty minutes since Vio asked him to get the drinks, and he’s been posted up in the corner of this ridiculously ornate ballroom ever since. 

The ball was Zelda’s idea, an annual event to memorialize the Hero Hyrule lost and celebrate the four (five?) it gained. So naturally, both Vio and Shadow were named guests of honor, and therefore obligated to attend. 

Shadow likes parties enough, despite the awkwardness of it all. It’s only been a few months since everything happened—the four’s decision to stay divided in the sanctuary, Vio’s restoration of the mirror, and Shadow’s resurrection—and for the most part, things are weirdly okay. Most people seem to believe that it was only Vaati and Ganon causing the mass destruction Shadow totally did for them, thank you very much, but he can’t complain when the others cared enough to protect his identity. The only people who know first-hand what Shadow did are Zelda, the four, and the castle knights… but of course rumors spread. Random Hylians must have gotten glances of Shadow atop his dragon, raining fire on the countryside. Shadow wonders if they noticed Vio there, too. 

Anyway, the party isn’t that awkward. All things considered, Shadow’s getting off way too easy for all of the, you know, atrocities. He can handle a few weird looks and rude comments, although resisting the urge to be antagonistic right back is a challenge. Not because the criticism is undeserved, but because Shadow thinks it’s fun to be antagonistic. 

It also doesn’t hurt that Vio is almost always by his side. Despite everything that happened between them, quiet coexistence is surprisingly easy. The living arrangements weren’t even a question when Vio brought Shadow back from the void—it was pretty much a ‘stray cat being brought in from the cold’ kind of deal. Which by the way do not exist in the dark world, and now that he knows cats are a thing, Shadow makes sure to say hello to every single feline he meets. If there was a contest of who could greet, say, twenty cats at the quickest pace, Shadow would easily win that heart piece.

It’s not perfect, though, between him and Vio—they’ve barely discussed the betrayal and fallout, or really anything that happened between them at all prior to Shadow’s death. The first thing Vio said to Shadow after the resurrection was “I’m sorry,” but he has yet to elaborate even months later. 

Shadow channels his apologies into nearly everything he does these days, both around Vio and the rest of Hyrule. The words themselves just haven’t found their moment. Surely someday they will. 

For now, Shadow is perfectly content sharing their tiny cottage at the edge of town, fulfilling their respective duties in the restoration of greater Hyrule. And whether they like it or not, showing up to this ball is one of those duties. And Vio appears to have, for lack of gentler words, totally fucking bailed. 

Beverages still in hand, Shadow straightens from his leaning position against the wall and scans the ballroom for an exit. He recalls which particular doorway leads deeper into the castle from a, uh, very different visit to this location, and makes a beeline through the crowd. 

It shouldn’t be too hard to track Vio down. After all, Shadow’s had plenty of practice. 

~~~

Vio found the castle library about twenty minutes ago, but you could have fooled him. 

Usually, lacking the Hero’s memories is a burden in Vio’s practical life—but in instances like this, it’s magical. Surely the Hero stepped foot inside this library before his dissolution, but Vio is seeing it for the very first time. The world could be on fire right now and he wouldn’t notice. In fact, a little warmth would be rather cozy as he sinks his teeth into these heavy historical volumes.  

“I should have guessed,” a voice says from the doorframe. Vio glances up from the first book he grabbed—The Legend of Groose, whoever that is—and grimaces at the person he sees. 

“Shit,” Vio says, shutting the book in his lap. “I found the bathroom, I swear, but then on the way back I just… got a little distracted.” 

Vio still isn’t quite sure what to expect from Shadow in terms of emotional response. It’s clear that Shadow has been putting a lot of work into his own stability, but still… Vio tries to be careful. He would try to elaborate on this cautionary urge, but something always holds him back—the same thing that holds him back from discussing most urges related to Shadow. 

Luckily, in this instance at least, Shadow doesn’t appear to be upset. He places one glass on the table beside the couch and clutches the other as he plops down beside Vio. 

“Careful around the books,” Vio lectures, taking a sip from his glass. “Is this… not root beer?” 

“Apparently they’re out since we, y’know, pillaged the place, so I had to settle for wine instead.” 

Vio gives Shadow a small smile and drinks again. “Probably not the most morally upright thing to hoard our supply, given how it was acquired, but I just can’t bring myself to return it.”

“Cheers to that,” Shadow says, raising his glass. “We almost successfully took over the world, and all we got was a dumb cellar full of evil root beer.” 

They say cheers and it’s not the first time. Vio wonders if Shadow’s experiencing the same deja vu. If he is, he doesn’t show it. 

“You’re in a good mood,” Vio observes, shifting towards the end of the couch to give Shadow more space to spread out. If there’s one thing about Shadow, it’s that he will drape himself onto any surface in the most dramatic, ridiculous way possible. 

“What can I say?” Shadow shrugs, contorting his body in a way that cannot possibly be comfortable. “Parties are fun. Although I’m gathering, not your thing.” 

“I’m still figuring out what my ‘things’ are, honestly. I’ve only really existed as me for half a year.”

“So does that make you a baby?” Shadow teases, flicking Vio’s hat. From the start, Shadow has always seemed perfectly comfortable invading Vio’s personal space. What once felt startling (but not unwelcome) is now just the norm. “Probably should be taking that wine from you, then, junior.” 

Vio holds his glass out of Shadow’s reach. “No take. My wine.”

“Wow, now you’re even talking like a baby. How the mightily pretentious have fallen.”

“Seems like you’ve taken my place, with a phrase like “how the mightily pretentious have fallen,’” Vio quips, opening his book up again. 

Shadow takes the cue, leaning back and elevating his legs on the coffee table. His boots make a loud thump against the wood.

Since the split, Vio has noticed that each iteration of the hero has developed their own personal style. For Shadow, that includes heavy lace-up boots that take him fifteen minutes to unequip every. single. time. For Blue, it was a buzz cut. Red and Green are using new pronouns. Vio is by far the least inspired, but he is growing out his hair. It’s finally long enough to put in a little ponytail when he reads… although his bangs still get in the way. 

It’s fine, though, right now. Vio’s mind refuses to stick to the page. Instead, he struggles to understand why in the world Shadow would abandon a fancy ball to lounge silently beside him as he fake-reads dusty old books. 

Time passes; maybe not for Vio, but he can tell it’s wearing on Shadow. His yawn is so indescribably pleasant, and yet again Vio wonders why the hell he would even think something like that. It’s a yawn. He didn’t even get to see Shadow’s crinkled nose and biiiig stretch and fascinatingly monstrous teeth as it happened— 

Vio puts down the wine. 

“You can go back, you know,” he tells Shadow gently, mustering a reassuring smile. 

“I don’t need to,” Shadow says, eyelids drooping almost cartoonishly. “We did the guest of honor stuff at the banquet already, and besides, wine apparently makes me sleepy.” 

“We could go home,” Vio begins, but then groans. “No, we can’t, because of the—” 

“Wine, yep, not very safe to travel without our wits about us. Who knows what kind of strange encounters we could have in the woods.” 

Vio chuckles and Shadow does a weak fist-pump in the air. 

“Uh, you good?” 

“I made you laugh. Scooore.” 

Vio cocks his head. “You make me laugh all the time.”

“I know, but you usually try to hide it.” 

Well. 

He’s not wrong. 

“I’m sorry,” Vio says, and he isn’t sure why. 

“I know,” Shadow replies, his eyes drooping shut. “You told me that already, when you brought me back to life.” 

“Yeah, but I just… yeah.”

Shadow yawns again, and Vio’s brain struggles to find the words and wisdom he so desperately needs.

“Don’t stress yourself out,” Shadow says. He can’t even see Vio’s face, but he can just tell how he’s feeling. Hasn’t he always, though? “We have all the time in the world to figure this out.” 

Shadow’s serene expression makes something happen in Vio’s chest, because what he says is so simple yet so true. And Vio feels hopeful about this, whatever this is, in a way that’s terrified him since he first encountered Shadow in those woods. 

“Read your books, nerd,” Shadow murmurs. “I’mma just take a little nap.” 

“Okay.” 

“Don’t go anywhere, though.” 

“I won’t.” 

And Shadow dozes off, and Vio is finally able to read, and everything is calm and normal until gravity does its work and Shadow’s precarious juxtaposition fails to support his limp, sleeping body. 

In other words, his head falls right into Vio’s lap. 

Gingerly, Vio lifts Shadow’s head and slides a pillow beneath it. He doesn’t, however, even attempt to change his position. Shadow’s unpredictable, Vio reminds himself; who knows how he’d react to a rude awakening? 

It does strike Vio how bizarre this situation truly is: the same maniac who once personally ordered his execution and nearly destroyed the land of Hyrule, is now sleeping peacefully in his lap. Snoring softly. Contentedly. The guy who once told Vio that he was his first and only friend, the only person he ever trusted, only for Vio to betray him stone-cold and watch him die. That person is currently laying in his lap, defenseless, trusting him to stay. 

He does his best to focus on the historical volume, but Vio finds himself absently running a hand through Shadow’s hair. He’s always meant to ask about the purple, actually—does he dye it? Probably not, given the lack of blonde roots. 

Vio is… oddly comforted by that. He likes that Shadow isn’t nearly identical to the Hero, like the others and Vio used to be. Really, the more time passes, the less they resemble each other, or him, at all. 

Should he be touching Shadow like this? How’d he even end up stroking his hair in the first place? Why didn’t he just move Shadow’s stupid head off of his stupid lap back when the stupid idiot fell into it?

Shadow sneezes in his sleep, an objectively scientifically adorable event, and Vio’s eyes go wide. Because of a sneeze.

For once, Vio doesn’t overthink it. He sets aside his book, pushes the hair out of Shadow’s face, and plants a kiss on his forehead.

He can’t know for certain, but he thinks he sees a smile. 

[ffion451]

Chapter Twelve: The Oceans Between Us (the past told in flashbacks) - Lost to the Tide | The Centre Cannot Hold: KTH (m)

Chapter characters/pairings: Taehyung x reader | AU/Genre: non idol au, angst, smut (see warnings below) see series m.post for fic summary etc.

Rating/Chapter warnings: ⚠️🔞 M - Adults only! 🔞⚠️ Mentions of anxiety/panic disorder/depression (not glamourised), foul language, mild threat, boatloads of angst.

Word count: 5.7K

<<< Chapter Eleven | Chapter Thirteen >>>

Flashback 5

Mira tosses her hair over her shoulder, licking her teeth with slow, cat-like satisfaction. In the bright light of the cafe, she sparkles, figuratively and literally, her sequinned minidress throwing out small rainbows of light.

“It’s done,” she smiles with that same feline grace at her friends; undeniably beautiful, yes, but nonetheless a predator.  She slips her phone back in her clutch, sighing theatrically to focus her friends’ attention where it should be - on her, of course. She picks up her iced coffee, half-listening to the enthusiastic praise they give her, playing with the straw between her fingers, “This is turning out to be an excellent birthday.”

In the booth behind them, recovering from an almighty hangover, Jihoon pulls his hood further across his face. Hunkering down in his seat, he takes his phone from his pocket.

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Taehyung is surprised that Mira wants to make peace; it’s been months since the slap at the club and he assumed she’d never speak to him again. It seems that in a rush of birthday joy, she’s decided to issue a last minute invite to her party. While he’s not keen to be friends with her, he thinks he should at least go for a while and clear the air. Yet, as he walks the path to the fancy restaurant that she’s completely rented out, he can’t help but feel a little nervous. He steels himself: he’s a better man than he was then and he’s determined to face up to his mistakes. Behaving decently to Mira, and her friends, is the least he can do.

He slows his pace as his phone rings, he almost drops it when he sees the caller. In shock, he almost answers before his brain catches up. He cancels the call: he might be trying to be a better person these days, but that doesn’t extend to you. He’s about to pocket his phone when it rings again. His stomach twists, There must be something wrong… yet spite gets the better of him, So what? he thinks, You have plenty of friends if there really is something wrong. You can call them instead. He mutes his phone and pockets it.

Despite the bitterness that controls him, he is shaken by the sight of your name and face on his phone: he’s never changed your contact picture, so he’d been greeted by your beaming face, squashed into frame beside his own broad smile. He decides to sit at a nearby bench under the canopy of a cherry blossom, taking a moment to clear his mind. His phone seems to burn in his pocket and his heart races; he hates that after all this time you’re still affecting him.

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Miles away, you race towards your car: the book you had been reading beside the river tucked under your arm. You’ve abandoned your planned afternoon of relaxation in favour of calling Taehyung frantically. You know he’s ignoring your calls after cancelling the first one, but you hope he’ll change his mind and answer. He must know you’d have a good reason for calling, you hope.

A short car ride later gets you to the house you never thought you’d set foot in again. Tense as you are, you don’t hesitate to rush to the door, knocking impatiently. Eventually the door opens and you find an irritated Namjoon, one of Taehyung’s housemates, on the other side. He doesn’t even try to hide his suspicion of you but as you explain that you desperately need to find Taehyung, and the reason why, he relents and agrees to guide you to where he knows Taehyung will be.

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Taehyung is about to turn the corner onto the street of the restaurant when he hears his name being called. A scan of the street doesn’t reveal the source until he notices a car that’s pulling up beside him. Is that your car? Then he sees Namjoon calling from the passenger seat and, dismisses the thought. As the car comes to a stop though, he realises his suspicion was correct: bizarrely, you’re there, eyes fixed ahead, in the driver’s seat.

“Get in the car, Tae,” says Namjoon quickly.

“What? Why?” he asks in confusion, before adding petulantly, “I’m not getting in a car with her.” 

“Tae, man -” Namjoon begins but he is cut off by you.

“Get in the fucking car, Taehyung,” you command forcefully, using the same determined don’t-mess-with-me voice you used when he broke into your room all that time ago. Taehyung looks at your face and how your eyes scan the street desperately; he has no idea why but he knows that you’re afraid of something. Instinctively, he gets in the backseat. You may have fucked him over, but in his heart, he still trusts you with his life. The second he shuts the car door, you pull away from the curb, taking the opposite turning and parking in a quiet side street. You nod to Namjoon and leave the car, moving to stand some distance away, staring at the blank expanse of brick wall opposite you.

In the car, Namjoon turns around awkwardly, struggling to contain his large frame in your small vehicle. He explains everything to Taehyung: Mira had hatched a plan to embarrass him, the problem was she was too proud of it and had spoken about it too loudly in public. She’d been overheard by Jihoon who reported it straight back to you. There is a party, but it isn’t hers. Her party is some hours later on the same street at a hotel. The party she has falsely invited Taehyung to is that of some hotshot magnate who Taehyung had been at school with. Mira knows that the guy had been a jerk to Taehyung but that’s the limit of it. Ever the opportunist, Mira couldn’t resist the chance to take revenge for Taehyung humiliating her.

It was a simple plan: Mira intended to watch from the coffee shop opposite with her friends as Taehyung was embarrassed into facing a childhood enemy. She knows the crowd around this man and knows that Taehyung would be swift and forcibly removed by overzealous security for gatecrashing. Mira thinks it will be a nice blow to Taehyung’s ego to be thrown out on his ass.

As soon as you read Jihoon’s messages you knew better; it wouldn’t be a blow to his ego, it would shatter him. The magnate’s name it sparked a vivid memory; you rarely dislike people you haven’t met, but on principle you loath this man. He’s dug into your vault of memory as an entry on your short, but uncompromising, shit list. This asshole had behaved abominably to Taehyung. At school, out of jealousy, he had invited Taehyung to a party and left him stood alone in the wrong location for hours, cradling his gift and making desperate phone box calls trying to find where he should be. It humiliated him and brought him to tears. On repeating the story Taehyung had become misty eyed again and you’d folded him into you and hugged him tightly.

It doesn’t matter if Taehyung has no respect for you or even if he really dislikes you, you were not going to let this happen to him. You’d decided with Namjoon that he would go to the coffee shop, pretending that he was just calling in and would act surprised to find her there not at her party.

He’d say he was only passing to drop off some flowers as an apology on Taehyung’s behalf because he couldn’t make it for some unexplained reason. You are particularly pleased that you already have flowers to hand, a small and now slightly wilted bouquet you have in your car from work as a thank you from a colleague, left forgotten in your car after you’d been out drinking with Jihoon the night before.

Together, as you drove and plotted, you and Namjoon decided that Taehyung came out of it looking kind enough to make some kind of display for her birthday and yet uninterested enough at the same time to not bother sending a text, spending much money or really caring. In short, enough to embarrass Mira in turn.

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As Taehyung listens to Namjoon explaining how you’d told him that he had to help you, he realises how much you have kept out of the story you’ve related. You’ve kept Taehyung’s secret: he realises Namjoon doesn’t understand his history with this guy beyond the fact that he doesn’t like him. What’s brought Namjoon here isn’t really any understanding of the situation Taehyung is in; what’s brought him here is you. Namjoon has been motivated by your force of will and overwhelming concern for Taehyung alone.

As Taehyung watches you scuffing your trainers on the wall behind you, he knows you remember every detail he told you about his former bully and that’s why you were so frenzied: walking in uninvited to that guy’s party would have humiliated Taehyung beyond comprehension. He is grateful beyond words and yet furious beyond reason.

Explanations given and reassurances made that this would go no further than the people who already knew, Namjoon leaves the car to deliver the flowers. As he passes you, he smiles and hands you the thank you card he’s removed from the bouquet and makes his way to the cafe with long, relaxed strides. It’s best to wait for Namjoon to return before you get back in the car, you decide, keeping your gaze fixed anywhere but where Taehyung is; your heart breaks for him but you know he doesn’t want to see you, of all people, right now. 

It’s a surprise then when, moments later, you hear your car door open and close and you feel, rather than see, Taehyung approach you.

“Thanks for this,” he mutters at you gruffly.

You look at him, you know it’s a mistake as soon as you do, but it’s too late. He’s looking at you softly and you melt for him, your heat thumping faster in your chest. You can’t help yourself, you give him a small smile in return: it’s your second mistake. You watch as his face morphs through different expressions, the first is confusion which disappears into coldness and lastly, you watch powerlessly as it is written over by anger.

Taehyung experiences all of the things that you read in his face in a swirling fury of feeling: when you looked at him, your eyes were actually shining. There are tears there, for him probably, but your expression is clearly full of love for him. It infuriates him; he’s glad to see you realise that as your face falls, you look nervous and apprehensive now. Good, he thinks bitterly. He cannot understand how you can still care so much for him after cutting him out of your life so cruelly.

Months of recovery are swept away, like buildings in the path of a tsunami. Every single thing you’ve done to hurt him floods through him on a tidal wave of furious anger: You said he was funny and made you laugh, but clearly not as much as Aera, with whom you’d laugh until you couldn’t breathe; you needed emotional support and said Taehyung understood you, just obviously not as much as Song-fucking-Minho did who seemed to share your brain chemistry exactly; you said you felt safe in his arms, but lying across Ellie’s lap while she stroked your hair obviously brought more comfort than he could; you’d always liked art, Taehyung shared his painting with you, but you were obviously more impressed by Minho and his gallery exhibitions over Taehyung’s hobby; you said that Taehyung was stylish and cool, so of course you abandoned him for Woo Jiho now studying fashion in Paris; you told him he was fun to party with and was a great dancer, but who needs him right when you have life-and-soul-of-the-party Hyejin now? Once you’d told Taehyung loved his soulful singing voice, now he is replaced by Pyo Jihoon’s deep bass growl; you encouraged him as he desperately tried to cultivate a beard then replaced him with Siwon’s perfect facial hair - at least that fucker is in Paris now so Taehyung doesn’t have to run into you two sucking face in every alleyway he passes.

These thoughts pour over each other like breaking waves, his mind a maelstrom of pain, confusion and all-consuming rage. You took every aspect of Taehyung, built it up, and then turned to the people who could do it all so much better, leaving him behind in the dust. How dare you look at him with such warmth? 

He seethes with resentment for you.

You have no idea of the many desperately incorrect things that are swirling through Taehyung’s mind. Yes, you adore and admire your friends but Taehyung is something different - you might love them, but you’re still in love with him, you’d never compare them. As far as you’re concerned nobody can compare to Taehyung, even after all this time.

However, looking at his face now, you realise you shouldn’t have expected anything forgiving there. You should have known it would go like this; it’s what you deserve. You close in on yourself, trying to protect yourself from the force of the storm within him; you focus your eyes at the pavement, quailing under the fury in his eyes.

You know you have to say something though, even if it further provokes him. You can’t ignore his words of thanks, however grudgingly they were offered, “I’m sorry this happened, I’m glad we found you,” you say quietly.

Taehyung almost vibrates with anger at your pathetic statement. The words he spits are out of his mouth before he can even think, “Why did it have to be you?” he snaps in frustration.

Silence lingers between you as you stare at your feet. Long moments pass of you avoiding his gaze as it burns into you. Eventually, his eyes shift you your tightly clenched fists: he sees the note in between you fingers, some of the letters are obscured but it’s easy enough to read, ‘Thank you for all the support you give me, I can’t thank you enough for your kind heart’. Suddenly, Taehyung’s rage boils over and he’s barely able to contain it.

You keep your eyes on your feet, feeling how tense he is beside you. Desperate to assuage his anger, your voice becomes even smaller, “I’m sorry -” you begin to say, but before you even finish the words, Taehyung interrupts you.

He hisses out three terrible, irrevocable words that hit you harder than any blow ever could: “I hate you.”

Your eyes shoot up to his face in shock, your third mistake. You find a face still so beautiful to you, even though it’s twisted in anger and hate, and your heart crumbles inside your chest. Your lips part helplessly as you’re struck dumb.

Taehyung sees it all, the way you recoil as if he physically struck you, the sheer volume of pain that sweeps across your face, but before he can fully register the effect of what he’s said, Namjoon is back. Taehyung is distracted by a flurry of activity as you all pile in the car; he watches in confusion as you usher Namjoon into the back next to Taehyung as you drive them back to their house.

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Taehyung barely processes anything Namjoon says on the journey back, only that it went smoothly and that Mira seemed embarrassed and disappointed. He can’t help but notice how strangely still and silent you are as you chauffeur them home.

“Thanks again,” Taehyung begrudgingly offers as he gets out of the car and heads to the house, not sparing you a glance. He only pauses to hold the front door open for Namjoon, who’s saying goodbye to you through your window.

He watches Namjoon tap at the glass; his friend pauses as put your window down, speaking quietly. He also notices that Namjoon’s voice becomes considerably softer, tender almost, as he says goodbye and turns back towards the house and Taehyung.

With Namjoon out of the way, and your window not yet up, Taehyung sees your face. It’s bathed and glistening with the silent tears that have obviously been flowing the whole car ride back. Now, with no reason to hold them in, he watches you tremble as the window closes, your shoulders shaking with the sobs that wrack your body. Then you’re pulling off and you’re gone from him again.

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When you get back to your house you almost go to your room to throw yourself in your bed to sob desperately into your pillow but suddenly, out of the blue, rage overcomes you: it’s not at Taehyung but at yourself, for painting yourself into a corner and for ruining one of the best friendships you’ve ever had.

The frustration with yourself is overwhelming, and the next thing you know, you’re throwing soft furnishings about the room and yelling in frustration. Your angry rant eventually turns to sobs as you exhaust yourself: you collapse onto the hardwood floor of your living room slapping your hand painfully against the bare boards, trying to find a way to release the pain that burns inside you.

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Taehyung doesn’t know what’s drawn him here. As soon as Namjoon closed the door behind him, Taehyung was yanking it back open, passing his friend and running as fast as his legs would carry him out of the house towards you.

It feels like that party again, when he felt on the edge of a precipice: though this time he doesn’t want to apologise to you and yet he doesn’t want to leave it as he did. He wants to have it out, if anything; to continue to lay everything bare and to ask you why you pushed him out of your life; to finally get some answers.

Now, unmoving on the other side of your front door, Taehyung has heard the end of your tantrum and now listens to you crying your heart out as you beat out out the rhythm of your pain against the hard floor.

Unbidden, his mind is pulled back to another party an age ago, and the image of you, glowing with happiness as your friends mime at each other… You were doing the same thing but in side-splitting laughter, not pain: it’s a grotesque contrast and he’s sickened by what your relationship with him has done to you. It doesn’t matter than he blames you for it, he feels your pain like he feels his own, as he always has.

What can he do now? You don’t want his comfort. He knows he’s powerless to do anything; all he can do is leave.

As he forces himself away from you and the door that separates you, he realises the grim irony of the situation he’s now in: he had come over to finally get some answers and yet he’s leaving with more questions, the biggest one being why you, you who cut him out, are so devastated right now.

There is of course another question that needs answering: why is it, when he hates you so much, that his heart is breaking to hear you break yours? But that question never makes it to his conscious mind, instead it’s shoved down and out of thought where all the things he doesn’t want to deal with are kept.

He wants to go home, but he can’t, he can’t face Namjoon’s questions about you. Instead, he goes to Seojin’s and calls Jihan. His plan is far more convoluted than any Mira would devise: he knows Jihan studied with Namjoon and decides that’s the best starting point. Giving Jihan the bare minimum by way of detail, they plan together. Jihan says he’ll convince Namjoon to go along with the plan. Jihan will call Minho, telling him that Namjoon has called him expressing concern for you and how upset you were: it’s all stupidly labyrinthine but it will prevent you finding out about Taehyung’s concern for you, which is all that matters to him. Well, what actually matters most to him is ensuring you’re taken care of, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge that.

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When Minho gets the call from Jihan that you’re in a state after your run in with Taehyung, he’s utterly confused, why would you be with Taehyung? But Jihoon overhears and he realises, indicating to Minho that he can explain.

In possession of some of the facts, Minho doesn’t need to imagine how you’re spiralling right now; he knows you’re not fully in control and the pain must be awful. He knows you won’t choose to harm yourself, but in your current headspace, who knows what you could do accidentally? Too many times you’ve helped him; he needs to do the same for you. He’s so worried for you that he can barely pick up his keys, so Jihoon takes charge and they head straight to yours.

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With his cap pulled low, feeling for all the world like an ersatz Joe Goldberg, Taehyung watches through the coffee shop window until a short while later Jihoon’s car comes around the corner and pulls, a little too fast, up the curb. Taehyung watches as they get out and rush to your door and enter without knocking, panic all over their features.

There’s another question, Taehyung thinks: Why are they so worried?

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

You’re trembling on the floor when they enter, still crying weakly and Minho has to admire how, even in your state, you’ve tried to avoid breaking anything, except yourself, it would seem. 

You don’t realise your hand is bleeding, not even as you’re lifted to your feet and carried to the couch by Minho. A little catatonic, you don’t really speak other than to convey, robotically and without any feeling, exactly the conversation that passed between you and Taehyung, as though the words are seared into your brain and across your heart.

Minho encourages you to stop struggling and to give into the dissociation that’s pulling you under. He knows your mind needs respite from the maelstrom raging within. He tells you that he’s here with you now and he’ll be here when you come back. He strokes your hair as you lie vacantly in his arms, eyes leaking rather than sobbing, until the point of exhaustion when sleep eventually takes you.

While Minho cradles you, Jihoon tidies up and dresses your hand. They agree that Jihoon will get some food from the ever reliable Seojin’s opposite your house and they’ll stay the night; Aera’s already confirmed she’ll head over after work.

So, Taehyung hates you, Minho thinks as he eases your head off his lap and onto a cushion, covering you with a blanket before he turns the TV on quietly. He wishes Ellie was around to help, or just to punch Taehyung, but he thinks the three of them will be enough to help you through.

He really hates you? Minho keeps trying to puzzle it out, he can’t understand why he would, but from what you’ve said, it seems to be true.

One thing that Minho is not confused about is his own intense hatred of Taehyung; it’s been some time since he liked Taehyung, the worse he’s treated you the more Minho has grown to dislike him but now he knows, with absolute certainty, that he hates Taehyung as fervently as Taehyung seems to hate you. Hate doesn’t come easily to Minho, it’s not within his nature, but he knows if Taehyung was in front of him right now, on fire, Minho wouldn’t even piss on him to put it out, he’d just watch him burn.

Minho looks at your sleeping face fondly, your eyes puffy from the tears you’ve shed. He wishes that you’d hate Taehyung, but it is more obvious that ever that you can’t let go of the love you have for him. Minho hopes Taehyung has no idea of how in love with him you are, because if he does then he is the worst fucking man that has ever existed to do this to you. Pass me the matches, Minho thinks, I’ll set fire to the fucker myself.

He strokes your hair and seethes; just as he rarely hates, he’s also never a violent man but he realises now that he doesn’t need Ellie here to deal with Taehyung: fuck setting fire to him, if he was here he’d punch Taehyung is his smug, handsome face without a moment’s hesitation.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Across the road, Taehyung is still in the coffee shop; he doesn’t seem to have the power to move. Jihoon hadn’t noticed him as he came in to buy food, but eagle-eyed and ever suspicious Aera, arriving outside and greeting Jihoon, sees Taehyung shifting about guiltily. Without giving anything away, she ushers Jihoon back to the house and enters the café.

Taehyung remains unmoving as Aera approaches him. He stays silent as she pulls out a chair, sitting opposite him.

“Taehyung,” she says curtly by way of greeting.

“Aera,” he mumbles back, forcing himself to look at her.

Her expression is hard to read, a mix of emotions playing out: curiosity, sadness, anger and frustration are in there for certain.

“I don’t think you should come here anymore,” she says flatly, “There are plenty of places to have coffee and eat in this city.”

He can only nod: that seems to be all she needs and she gets up to exit. As she tucks the chair back under the table as she turns to leave, she locks eyes with Taehyung and then she finds she’s speaking without realising it.

“I know it’s her fault that things are as they are between you,” she sighs, “but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt her too…”

Her voice trails off and she clears her throat, regaining her focus and her voice deepens dangerously. For a moment, Taehyung is reminded of you. She continues, “But whoever’s fault it is, it’s out of hand now. If you come near her again, I’ll make you sorry you were ever fucking born.”

She turns away and leaves before he can reply, not that he has anything he can say - he only has more questions that he can’t get answers to.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

As you sleep your friends furiously create a new group chat entitled ‘Taehyung’s a fucking bastard’ with Ellie letting her know what happened and they agree together that Taehyung must be kept away from you at all costs.

You awake the next morning to see Aera passed out on the couch beside you, evidently reluctant to even leave you in a room alone; you realise the boys must be in yours and Ellie’s rooms. You quietly get up, and go to your bathroom to freshen up, a plan in your mind to get their favourite pastries and coffee from the bakery a little further down the road as a thank you for their kindness and as an apology for worrying them.

You look at your puffy eyes and face in the bathroom mirror and wonder when you last wept so intensely. You’ve shed many tears over Taehyung, but last night was the worst. The cruel voice in your head, the one that constantly undermines you, speaks up ‘Cry me a river, princess,’ it scoffs, ‘you brought this on yourself.’

It takes you a moment to realise what’s wrong with that inner voice, but then you understand. Before, it didn’t have a recognisable tone or timbre, it was just your own internal monologue, now though, that nasty voice has got a unique sound of it’s own. Your brain has fixed on the perfect timbre to voice every thought that tortures you.

’Pull yourself together, you pathetic bitch,’ comes the voice again as you stare vacantly at your reflection, and you curse your brain for so perfectly recreating the exact symphony of Taehyung’s voice: it’s too much, you feel like you’re drowning under the pain of it all.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

As you leave your house, you fight against the undertow that wants to drag you down into your bed where you know you’d stay for several days, letting the worst thoughts in your mind run rampant over you. You are determined not to this time though; you’ve lost too much time pining over Taehyung, the ebb and flow of your days lost in thoughts of him.

Loving Taehyung is like swimming against a strong current, it exhausts you and you never get any further forward, instead each futile stroke brings you closer to complete collapse and the oblivion that surrender will bring. You realise that if this all this love you have for Taehyung is like the ocean; it’s drowning you and it will swallow you in its dark depths before you can ever cross it to find your way back to him. It’s better to drift back to the cold shore and turn your back on it all.

And so that’s exactly what you do.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

The next time you and Taehyung see each other it’s several weeks later; he sees you before you see him. He should have known you’d come to this exhibit, but he’d hoped you wouldn’t run into you. He knows he shouldn’t have come, but Namjoon was so keen that he couldn’t resist getting tickets. Since that day, Namjoon hasn’t been quite as friendly with Taehyung, clearly judging him for whatever happened to make you so upset. Taehyung hopes this exhibit will get him back in his friend’s good graces.

At the sight of you, that boiling pot of shame bubbles over yet again; the sound of you sobs echoing in his ears as though that door stands between you once again. In the mirrored room of lights*, your eyes sparkle like a child’s as you marvel with Minho and Jihoon: despite everything he feels, a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

As you inevitably pass each other as you move around the room, nods of greeting are exchanged by everyone. The temperature in the room seems to drop by several degrees: it’s apparent to him now that neither Minho nor Jihoon can contain their dislike of him, open hostility evident on their faces. A muscle twitches in Minho’s jaw and for a moment, Taehyung is struck by the thought that your mild-mannered, gentle friend might actually punch him. The thought passes quickly though as Taehyung turns his attention to you: when you pass Namjoon, you smile kindly at him but when you get to Taehyung you don’t avoid eye contact as he expected, but you don’t quite look at him either, instead you seem to look through him, as though he simply isn’t there.

How could you be so nonchalant? he thinks. It hurts him more than he could anticipate and he’s grateful to feel Namjoon’s supportive shoulder squeeze, sympathy written over his friend’s face.

The other side of the room, Minho quietly whispers praise for how well you did. He massages his tender hand; you’d clenched it tightly as soon as you saw Taehyung until he was out of sight, Minho’s almost lost feeling in it, but he doesn’t mind, It’s worth it for you to save face in front of this bastard, he thinks. For Minho’s part, he’s grateful that you clung to him; the urge to punch Taehyung was no less violent than weeks ago and for one, mad moment, he almost thought he would.

Taehyung sees you a couple of times more in the exhibition and later in the café but you pay absolutely no attention to him: he’s invisible to you. Taehyung knows he was the one who cut himself out of your heart when he told you he hated you but it doesn’t make the pain any lesser.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Lying in bed that night Taehyung feels lost. He doesn’t understand why your dismissive attitude has got so under his skin but it’s driving him half mad. Hours of tossing and turning provide him with the answer. Despite how it ended, the incident with Mira’s trick had given him hope. Your actions were evidence that no matter how you act, you really do still care about him. Yet again, hope, with its fragile but resilient wings, beat again in his heart; in the still, unexplored depths of his mind he started to believe that maybe one day you two would find your way back to each other. 

Until now, Taehyung believed you and he were, at the very root, the same. A connection existed between your souls that he believed could never be severed. More fool him, he realises now, everything can be destroyed if you try hard enough. Nobody could deny the Herculean effort that has gone into wrecking any hope of reconciliation: between your determined distancing and his cruelty, any hope is fucked. Hope has been locked away in its box and sunk to the bottom of the ocean by your joint, deliberate hands.

Taehyung seems to sink into his bed in misery. He’s grateful for the solidity as his heart feels unfixed. He feels lost, unmoored and cut adrift from you. Somewhere, in this tempest between you, he’s lost you to the tide.

<<< Chapter Eleven | Chapter Thirteen >>>

A/N: That marks the end of the flashback - we’ll pick the story up where it was left at the start of the first flashback at that party… please share any thoughts you have with me!

*for this exhibit I imagine Yayoi Kusama, see here

[camelliacats]

not for all the gifts in the world

Having some feels with an old ship off the pro Quidditch pitch~ ;)

Fic: "not for all the gifts in the world" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: Angelina Johnson/Lucius Malfoy, with cameos from Alicia Spinnet & an OC

Rating: K+

Words: ~1,530

Additional info: romance, angst, Next Gen era, 3rd person POV

Summary: Angelina Johnson, ace of the Ballycastle Bats, has a secret admirer. But that's all he'll ever be. She swears.

      She's used to having her share of fans. Being around the Weasley twins and Lee, Angelina can rebuff the best of them with a smile one second and slide into an easy joke with her mates the next.

      But it's different, having fans and playing in front of people, in a world that's still rebuilding.

      The stands aren't full to capacity the way they were back when she longed to turn pro. People come for the spectacle, of course, and the most diehard of fans will cheer as though Dark forces didn't almost win several years ago. But the living, breathing thing that is the crowd just isn't the same.

      The permanence of change surrounds Angelina, no matter how far she flies.

      It irks her, how those around her go with the flow and aren't bothered in the same way. Alicia debates reconsidering the Quidditch life, since she's still a reserve, and even Katie puts aside these same ambitions, but that's easy enough to guess why, since Fred narrowly escaped death with the castle crumbling around him and George in the war. Katie used to be one of Angelina's and Alicia's primary fans, but she's a rare sight these days, trading off with Lee, assisting Verity in the shop with looking after the twins.

      The reminder of the twins, with a renewed bond no one can come between, makes Angelina tug harder than necessary on her gloves, and she winces as the motion yanks on her wrists uncomfortably.

      "Watch out there," Alicia warns from the locker beside hers. The shorter woman pauses changing out of her Ballycastle uniform. "You're wearing quite the dour look after flying one of the best games in your life, you know."

      Angelina cocks her head to one side, because Alicia's exaggeration hardly warrants comment. Staying steady on one's broom during a downpour is a basic skill, as far as Angelina's concerned.

      A knock at the locker-room door alerts them to the presence of one of their team's Beaters, Kolchak. She grins from ear to ear while carrying a gigantic box under her arm. "You've got another one, Johnson."

      Angelina holds out her hand, ignoring Alicia's gape and Kolchak's feline curiosity. The box weighs the same as a Quaffle, and she undoes the bow and tears at the paper while Alicia stares.

      "I can't believe this is still going on! A secret admirer—and you don't care? The coaches don't care?"

      Kolchak shushes her. "Of course the coaches care. Why do you think I wasn't here sooner? They were busy checking it over, using all sorts of Scanning Spells and some such. They take anonymous gifts seriously, even seven years after the war."

      Angelina opens her mouth—but stops short of correcting them. Instead, she runs her fingers over the bonbons and picks one up to try. They're filled with treacle tart and dusted with a red powder. "Fizzlesticks," Angelina mumbles around a bite.

      "What'd you say?" Alicia furrows her brow.

      "These are special-made," Angelina says, "from a place in Belgium. They dust these with crushed, homegrown Fizzlesticks." With every word she speaks, the tingle on her lips intensifies but pleasantly. By the time the chocolate-and-treacle mixture melts away on her tongue, the tingling sensation fades.

      She doesn't have to look up to witness the expression the other two witches exchange above her head. "Fancy chocolates and flowers," Alicia comments. "And you don't want to meet your secret admirer?"

      Angelina eats a second bonbon and shrugs. Then she changes out of her uniform and hits the showers, leaving those two behind her to gossip. She breezes through the task and dresses in denims and a worn but loved rouge blouse before pulling her cloak on. "See you next practice, guys," Angelina says by way of parting, and she slips the box of bonbons into her Expanded rucksack before exiting.

      The rain's let up, so Angelina doesn't bother with a charm to send the drizzle away. She passes the coaches on her way through the pitch and to the main exit—they check with her that she received her mystery gift and Kolchak didn't open it for her—and Angelina nearly makes it past the ticket booth, home free.

      Then she notices the disruption in the rain up ahead, to the right, and catches sight of his shoulder. She almost smirks, because of course he can't be caught in today's weather.

      "You knew what today's conditions would be," Angelina pipes up, sidling up to him on his left. The drizzle is a drizzle, yes, but a few minutes of it do begin to weigh her locs, and she pushes away a stray one clinging to her cheek. She takes a step closer, falling under his Repelling Charm. "Lucius."

      Lucius peers down at her—not by much, since Angelina nearly matches him in height. But his lips are a straight line until he raises one amused eyebrow. "Indeed I did. However, as a dedicated Ballycastle enthusiast…"

      She grins. For a man who committed crimes but did his time and testimonies, Lucius Malfoy is a man of simple pleasures. And, amidst all the change in life (her future with Fred shot down, her friends mostly wandering far and not sticking close, his ex-wife and son cutting all ties, the Ministry thankful for his obedience but done with him all the same), Lucius' attendance at Ballycastle Bats matches has been the one constant these last few years.

      Well, that and—as of a year and a half ago—the gifts.

      "The bonbons are delicious, by the way," she remarks.

      "As I insisted they were when I brought Maierwells up at our last meal. They put Honeydukes to shame," Lucius huffs. He begins walking, knowing Angelina will fall into step.

      She does with a shrug. "Yeah, well, us common folk don't hop around from country to country, usually, even with magic in our pocket." Angelina sighs. "…the thought's nice, though."

      They walk for two minutes, far enough from the pitch to Disapparate. But, when they come to a stop, Lucius turns to face her. "I take it my proposal's no longer under consideration, then?" And perhaps it's a trick of the overcast light, but his eyes are heavy with disappointment when he asks what they both know is all but a rhetorical question.

      Angelina adjusts the straps of her bag over her shoulder, the bonbons weighing her down—much like all the gifts before. Because Alicia's right and wrong, really. It's flowers and chocolates. And sometimes it's been a rare Quidditch collectible or nice gear. Once it was jewelry, but Angelina opened the box and shut it just as quickly and shoved it back into Lucius' hands months ago. So today it's bonbons.

      But last week was a bouquet of deeply pink peony buds, plump and saturated and colorful like mulberries, and they came with a note: By the time these bloom, you'll be ready to accept me.

      Angelina frowns and stares into his eyes for a heartbeat before lowering her gaze. Her eyes land on the fluffy collar of his cloak (always something exotic with these Malfoys—is that mink? No, too red, maybe something else, like fox or marten), and then Angelina glances at her own ensemble…something she could never picture a Malfoy in, something she can't ever picture being allowed into Malfoy Manor.

      Dinner is one thing. Dinner can be had, with a fan.

      So she shakes her head. "Things are better like this. I prefer them this way," she says. Unchanged, she doesn't add.

      Lucius rolls his jaw, souring on the thought but accepting it surprisingly well. He turns away and gives her a curt nod. "I see." He nods a second time and takes a step away from her, taking his magic with him. "Good luck on your next match, Miss Johnson," he bids her, and with a POP he vanishes in the blink of an eye.

      The drizzle kisses her skin once more, and Angelina frowns where Lucius had been a moment ago. "So, back to 'Miss Johnson' after all these years…," she murmurs. And yet it's no surprise, because she knows she couldn't give him the answer he wants.

      After all, the flowers were never going to bloom, not when they were shriveling up and rotting away just days after she received them.

      Still, Angelina wonders when she Disapparates from the pitch and heads home. She wonders what things might've been like if she hadn't left Lucius merely a fan, just another rebuffed name on her list…

      At home, she sinks into her lumpy sofa and pulls the bonbons from her bag. She lifts another to her lips but doesn't take a bite, instead choosing to observe the red dust on top. Angelina presses the bonbon to her lips, and the Fizzlesticks' sensation returns, but the tingling sensation skitters down to her arms, and she thinks of Lucius.

      Kissing him—kissing him might be just like tasting Fizzlesticks powder.

      (But, in time, the desire to know what he tastes like fades, much as the flavors melt away into nothing. And Angelina moves on to more important things, like disposing of the dead flowers sitting on her kitchen sill.)

Done for the If You Dare Challenge (for prompt #215: mink) in the HPFC forum on FFN. OH, MAN. I've not written Angecius in…more than a decade, oops. But I had a hankering, and I got inspiration from peonies we had in our house recently; bought as blooms that legit just never opened up, that simply died on us. I've a long-running hc Ange becomes a Ballycastle Bat and have written about it here and there, but funnily enough writing this reminded me a little of the vibe Louis and Draco give me in all my Loucos from yesteryear (a whole series, but starts with "Tomorrow Still Comes"). Here, tho, Ange sticking to her desire to maintain the status quo, while still upset at all the change around her and how certain of it affected her… I feel a bit for Lucius, bc I like this pining side of him. But idk, I like the tone of this piece and the thread with the bonbons. Btw, the peonies aren't a random inclusion, either; in the language of flowers, the peony can mean a very deep or passionate love (esp when a deep pink/red; respect or adoration/admiration when more purple), so Lucius was being quite earnest here, a broken man hiding a little behind some aspects of his old personality (the extravagant gifts, the haughtiness) but still trying to make a grab for smthg/someone he desires. GAH. Will I ever write a happy Angecius? WILL I? Who knows. *says the girl who adores Daphcius, so ummm*

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

[yvesdot]

GIRLS LOVE CATS: a parallel post.

“Oh? Like what, Guy-Who-Hasn’t-Read-The-Books? Sorry, Max.” Yves glances down at him, then leaps, catlike, off the table again. They give a sharp yank as if on a lawnmower pull, and the bones fly back up their sleeves.  — Forced Hand, yves.

Sources: Godsong the Ninth by Max Franciscovich, Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu, Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir, KAY RAINIER Book Two by yves., Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir, KB2, HtN, KAY RAINER Book One by yves., HtN, KB2. Plain text under cut.

Was inspired by Max’s @goose-books fanfiction crossover between his series Godsong and the Locked Tomb series (and the iconic cat moment in Carmilla, and the realization that surely the Locked Tomb series itself must have employed the same metaphor, and the knowledge that all my women are kittenish) to make this one. Just a few examples of how women, particularly lesbians, seem to really enjoy the feline—or perhaps simply the domesticated carnivorous—spirit.

Plain text of quotes & sources: 

Godsong the Ninth [fanfiction] by Max Franciscovich (unposted, see Godsong page & DM him for fic)

The Ninth cavalier stalked to the middle of the room with the steady grace of a great cat. Though the skull paint muddled her features, Ambergris could pick out a square jaw, narrow eyes, dark hair chopped off blade-straight just above her chin. She was broader than Felidore, limbs taut with muscle; she stood steady and poised, statue-still in a breathlessly anticipatory way. She did not speak. She bent her rapier blade, as though loosening it like a ligament, and stood at ready position.

Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu (edition with footnotes + intro by Carmen Maria Machado highly recommended)

But I was equally conscious of being in my room, and lying in bed, precisely as I actually was. I saw, or fancied I saw, the room and its furniture just as I had seen it last, except that it was very dark, and I saw something moving round the foot of the bed, which at first I could not accurately distinguish. But I soon saw that it was a sooty-black animal that resembled a monstrous cat. It appeared to me about four or five feet long for it measured fully the length of the hearthrug as it passed over it; and it continued to-ing and fro-ing with the lithe, sinister restlessness of a beast in a cage. I could not cry out, although as you may suppose, I was terrified. [redacted]

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (book one in the Locked Tomb series)

Naberius toyed with her languidly—he had a trick where his sword licked out like a cat’s claw, immediate, before pulling back again with a measured half step and he kept her at sword’s length, never letting her enter his space. He kept up his litany of parry; quick attack for space; pressure the sword with the offhand until she was sick to death of it.

KAY RAINIER Book Two by yves.

“Now, Atlas,” she says, her tone an indiscreet mix of playfulness and catty calculation, “this is unfair. [redacted] Does this not give [redacted] an unfair advantage?”

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (book two in the Locked Tomb series)

Gideon, watching this single combat, might have better appreciated the anonymous monster called the Sleeper for what she truly was. In life she must have had few, if any, equals. Her people—whoever they had been—must have cherished her as their finest champion. She was a prodigious fighter: fast, brutal, ruthless in exploiting advantages, terrifying in her force and aggression. She had gained a wicked-looking knife with a serrated edge in her left hand, balancing the baton in her right, and she struck with it at eyes, groin, or anywhere else she could reach. The heavy haz suit did not seem to slow her at all, and she had a catlike agility in keeping with her earlier handspring; she kept swerving her body away from strikes and mixing elbow jabs, knee strikes, and even kicks into her overall assault. There was no trace in her of the beribboned show fighter: she fought like she wanted to kill you and she hoped it would hurt.

KAY RAINIER Book Two by yves.

Another smile: this one winsome, almost kittenish in satisfaction.

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

The woman had not died tranquil; her features had settled into an expression closer to determination than the peace of the grave. When rigor mortis developed —would it develop, in this parody of a world?—the whole might harden further into despair. The chin was firm; the jaw stubborn in its lines, the nasofrontal angle of the nose barely present, with flared nostrils like a large cat’s. It was the jaw, and something about the eyes and brows, that kept distracting Harrow.

KAY RAINIER Book One by yves.

“That’s not true.” Atlas heats his hand and runs it through Kay’s hair, experimenting a little. He doesn’t manage to dry much, and it’s still frizzy. “I could see you in a harness... leather pants...” He pauses. “Yeah. Hold on. Wait. That’s a good idea. I can totally—”

“If you buy me a harness, I will see to it that nobody finds your body,” Kay says, and Atlas pulls away to look her in the face. “I cannot even imagine what ‘harness’ means in this context.”

“I can,” Atlas says, giving her a little catlike grin. “You want to find out?”

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Augustine said, “The eyes have it, John. Those damn golden eyes she always had, like a cat’s. [redacted]

KAY RAINIER Book Two by yves.

[redacted] a need so intense it turns her into someone else, into a motherless kitten, into a child awoken from a terrible dream. [redacted]

[neoninky]

TWST Fic "Her Ivory Crown": Chapter 7

Ch. 7: A Golden Afternoon

The sound of birds singing outside of her window seemed like a happy sign, one she would gladly not question. Reine continued to get dressed into her Rosabyrine uniform with a soft smile and a musical hum. She was feeling much better today and anyone within a mile could see it. Just one last session at the tea garden booth before the real tea party with the Heartslabyul boys this afternoon. The princess started to comb her hair, getting ready to put it in a long braid once again, and looked back to the red and black ribbons on her nightstand, next to the vase of roses. She smiled and mused quietly to herself, "It is the last day of the exhibition. A change would be nice..." 

Alyssa and the other girls had gone ahead without her, telling her to take her time, so when Reine walked down the stairs, only Manari, Jinnah, and the dance team were there. The Almascaber dorm prefect quickly noticed the ribbons and red rose that tied her hair back into a high, wavy ponytail today as opposed to her usual, intricate white-rose clad braid. Not to mention the happy mood completely surrounding her in general. 

"Well, well, don't you look happy, Your Highness," Manari giggled as she comfortably lounged in the parlor chair, wearing her gym clothes, "Big plans today?"

Reine just gave her friend a playful smirk, "Why yes, I've been invited to have tea and tarts with the King of Heartslabyul and his noble court. But first I must away! The Rosabyrine's garden awaits its Queen." 

"Oooo fancy, well have fun rubbing elbows and swapping sugar cubes with His Majesty," Manari and Jinnah snickered to themselves, "us common folk will be busy dancing our butts off for the last rehearsals before the grand battle tomorrow."

"We hope our performance pleases you and brings honor to our glorious school, Your Majesticness!" Jinnah made a dramatic bow to Reine, garnering a laugh from the rest of the dance team, "and good luck to you in your game of flamingos and hedgehogs!" Manari hopped up and joined her vice leader in an exaggerated curtsy, making Reine just laugh and play along before walking out the door.

-

It was too good of a day to ruin for anyone, really. Reine found herself being escorted to the tea garden by her good feline friend and in much higher spirits than the day before. Manari and her girls jogged their way to the NRC gymnasium, chanting with gusto before meeting up with Charlaine who was just as excited to get started. Elise was in her element, smiling and greeting students from all three schools to her exhibit and sharing her favorite legends that had been passed down from sailors in her father's service for generations. Everyone that was either in the girls' company or happened to be passing by them was immediately swept up in their glowing energy. 

Honestly, the only person who seemed troubled...was Riddle.

Across campus in the Heartslabyul gardens, the crimson king was pacing about, checking every minute detail for about the hundredth time that morning. The tea party wasn't for a couple of hours but still, he was beyond restless. It was painfully, if not hilariously, obvious to the two seniors at the garden's edge. 

"I know it's Riddle being...well...Riddle, but this seems a bit excessive," Cater whispered to Trey while trying not to laugh. 

"He wants to make a good impression on the girls, I can't blame him for being a little more...motivated," Trey smiled knowingly which did not sneak by Cater's sharp eye. 

"Oh ho...? You know something else, don't you, Vice Dorm Leader? Come on. What is it? Tell me, tell meeee~" Cater was beginning to sound like an excited jr high girl. 

The clover just chuckled and casually sidestepped his classmate's suspicion, "No idea what you mean. I'm just saying that Riddle may be on edge because this is a very special occasion for him and us as a dorm."

Cater wasn't sold. He side-eyed Trey as he silently recounted the last 24 hours in his head: Riddle picked flowers that no one was supposed to pick before suddenly delivering said flowers that same night...suddenly Trey's making extra tarts for the party that is today....girls are magically invited to said party last minute...also Riddle didn't eat as much at breakfast and now he's acting like this-waaaaaaait...

"Oooh my Magicame GOD! What?!" Cater laughed loudly once all the pieces came together, "Riddle has a CRUSH?!" 

Trey quickly tried to shut the diamond senior up but it was too late. Riddle completely halted his flurried behavior and snapped his head around to where Trey and Cater were, his face bright red, though it was hard to tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. Thankfully it was just the three of them at that moment but Riddle's outburst was so intense that surely the rest of the school also heard him. 

"WH-WH-WHAT NONSENSE ARE YOU SPEWING OVER THERE, CATER?!"

It took a solid ten minutes for Trey to get Riddle to calm down. Trey sighed at Cater's unapologetically eager grin as he whispered-yelled to a very flustered Riddle, "Sooooooo...? Come on, dorm leader, you can tell us. Who is she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about! I merely invited the Rosabyrine dorm because they expressed great interest in seeing Heartslabyul!!" Riddle aggressively whispered back in response.

"Uh-huh...if that's the case then...why are we hiding behind this rose bush, whispering about this right now?" 

The two seniors had been quickly shuffled out of the tea party area by an upset Riddle who clearly did not want to risk anyone else walking into their conversation at that time. And yet, here he was still trying to downplay what Cater, and Trey too honestly, had already sniffed out. Cater was anything but a quitter.

"Is it that first year, Alyssa? She's a cutiiiieeee~ Though I think Deuce might like her too, just sayin'. So that might be awkward but hey all's fair in love and war, right?" Cater winked mischievously in Riddle's direction only to be met with a silent glare, "No? Ok well, the second years are pretty cute too. Ooh or maybe our dorm leader's into older women? If so I did get some numbers of the seniors-"

"Shutup,Cater!It'sMissReine!" Riddle mumbled it so quickly that Cater almost didn't catch it. Riddle wished that was so but judging from the ecstatic look on the senior's face, he wasn't that lucky.

"The Princess???? Ooh ho ho, Riddle, you rogue-I mean ahem-" Cater quickly cleared his throat at the familiar look of rage in Riddle's eyes, "Good for you! She's quite the lady! And what a ballsy choice. I mean it's pretty much common knowledge now, even on our campus, that Cavalier guy is chasing after her-ACK!" Trey glared at Cater as he elbowed him in the side. 

Riddle raised a brow at Cater's less than inspiring commentary but knew that he wasn't wrong. Great Queen of Hearts, just when he thought he might finally feel normal after last night, Riddle felt that sick pinprick in his gut all over again at the reminder. Cater felt a wave of guilt seeing the defeated look on Riddle's face and quickly tried to recover the situation.

"Hey, hey, what's with that look? The princess is a very sweet girl, hell, I'm sure over half the guys in Heartslabyul have a crush on her too. Doesn't mean she's spoken for already though right? It's not like you to give up so easily!" 

"What that said...your secret is safe with us. Right, Cater?" Trey gave his classmate a very sharp look that decided the answer for him. 

Riddle huffed and did his best to return to his usual commanding self, "Not a word of this to anyone. ANYONE. Miss Reine's not some trinket to fight over like a pack of wild animals. She is a guest and a princess. Our princess. We will treat her and respect her as such."

The two seniors shared a serious look before responding, "Yes, Dorm Leader."

The three boys returned to the garden's center, Riddle swallowing his feelings the best he could with each step.

-

"Excellent jobs, girls. Thank you for all of your hard work. You have made me very proud to be your leader and fellow Rosabyrine student." 

The girls all cheered at their joint success. Reine couldn't be more pleased with the turnout of their final tea party even though they did close their booth much earlier than the others. Alyssa quickly went over the ticket sales numbers along with any orders submitted for the Rosabyrine's special tea blends and tea sets with Reine as the other girls cleaned up the area. All of them were just as eager as their queen to get everything settled before they left for the Heartslabyul tea party. Reine signed off on all the purchases and made her own notes for later before checking her pocket watch. She gave a satisfied hum at their time before helping the other girls pack up the clean unused tea sets that would be distributed to their happy patrons later. Noticing a specific name on that list, Reine grinned and set aside one tea set and jar of tea leaves to deliver personally. She finished wrapping them in checkered cloth with a signature white rose just as the rest of her dorm finished their work and cradled the precious cargo in her arms as she followed the others towards the main street. Being the last one out of the garden, Reine turned back and placed an enchantment on the area to protect it from anyone outside their dorm entering it and potentially stealing or breaking any of the merchandise. It was a simple enough spell, for her anyway, but Reine felt a slight cough prickle in her throat and chest after the fact. She ignored the bitter wet taste of ink in her mouth and followed the rest of her dorm towards the Hall of Mirrors. Trey and Cater both stood waiting for the excited girls and helped them enter through the Heartslabyul mirror, Reine entering last...and she was not disappointed in the least.  Each of the girls gasped in excitement at the overall aesthetic of the boys' dorm and their uniforms. Reine especially forgot herself and just took everything in with wide eyes. It reminded her so much of her visits to her aunt and cousins' court when she was little; so much that she felt her heart swell. Trey smiled at her pure fascination, "Welcome to the Heartslabyul dorm, Miss Reine. What do you think?"

"It's...so....wonderful," she said barely above a whisper as if she were afraid her words might break. 

- 

Elise gently placed the last piece that had been auctioned off back inside its box before handing off the boxes to her brother students that had volunteered to help her and her girls. Looking over the numbers, she was less than satisfied. Sure the girls of Sacred Crown were doing fairly well all things considered but even with their final push to make more profits, they were still far behind the two boys' schools. Royal Sword was still in first place...as usual. Elise couldn't remember the last time they ever beat their brother school at anything. She could really understand how the Night Raven boys felt now in a sense. Granted she was also surprised her school did as well as they did in the shadows of two powerhouse schools that were hellbent on out-doing the other. At the very least, Elise was pleased that the silent auction portion of her exhibit went as well as it did. Speaking of which...  The princess looked over the pieces and found the exact one that came to mind. Elise looked at the antique music box, fashioned to look like a seashell wrapped in pieces of coral, sitting on a nest of seaweed, and touched it lightly, fondly. The music box had been in her personal collection for a long time. The only reason Elise was parting with it now was because her club needed more funding and she didn't want to leave the others high and dry after she graduated. Elise was a little sad to see it go but...she smiled at the name on the sold tag.

 "I'm sure you will make Mr. Ashengrotto very happy."

She gently packaged the music box before wrapping it herself and carefully placing it in her satchel to deliver to the Monstro Lounge personally. Once she finished deligating where everything was to be placed and stored until the end of the festival, Elise checked her phone and saw that Manari had sent her a short video of their practice session. The day was still young so she decided to see her friends in action herself, leaving the rest of the booth in her girls' capable hands.

-

The Heartslabyul gardens had never been more lively than they were now. Cater was taking selfies and pictures for his Magicame, left and right. The fashion of the Rosabyrine uniforms went so well with the gardens and the boys themselves, there was no way he wasn't going to get his money's worth of likes and comments on as many pictures as he could. Alyssa was in the same camp apparently.

"Reine! Stand over here! You look so perfect with the roses!"

The princess gladly agreed to model for a moment and let Alyssa, Cater, and a few others take her picture. Stepping into the role of crown princess made experiences like this almost second nature now. She didn't even mind that a few of the Heartslabyul boys wanted to take pictures with her as well. Riddle would periodically look over his shoulder as he was caring for the hedgehogs before the croquet match and try not to glare at his dormmates buzzing around Reine like excited little bees. It's fine. She doesn't seem to mind, he thought to himself. This was the first time they've ever had female visitors to their dorm so it's to be expected that the boys would be excited....he looked over his shoulder again when he heard Reine's laugh. Deuce and Ace were arguing about something, again, before Cater pushed a now very flustered Deuce to take a picture with Alyssa which just made Ace tease Deuce more. The whole time Reine and Trey were talking and smiling about...something. Riddle felt himself begin to sweat a bit. Surely Trey wouldn't betray him, right?! Cater was another story but not Trey! As if he read the flustered boy's mind, Trey looked over at Riddle as soon as Reine was distracted and gave him a reassuring smile before subtly nodding his head in Reine's direction. That's when Riddle noticed the red rose and ribbons in her hair. His heart immediately skipped a beat after he recognized them. He quickly turned back around, hoping no one else saw his face flush. He silently cursed himself, not hearing someone come up behind him minutes later.

 "Riddle?"

The boy nearly fell to pieces at the sound of that oh-so-familiar voice behind him. He quickly composed himself the best he could and stood up to face a smiling Reine, "Miss Reine. Thank you for coming today. Are you enjoying y-yourself?" Stop. Stuttering.

The girl nodded happily and offered the checkered parcel to him, "I wanted to deliver this to you in person. To thank you for your purchase and to thank you for inviting us today. The Heartslabyul dorm is even more beautiful than I imagined!"

Somehow her excitement completely overshadowed any other feeling of propriety Reine may have felt before now. Riddle didn't mind, it was refreshing. He softened a bit as he took the items from her, noticing both the fresh white rose and how much happier she looked today. It put him at ease quicker than he could imagine. It only got better once Reine saw the hedgehogs and gasped in delight, "Aww what cute little darlings!"   The tiny creatures all seemed drawn to her as she kneeled down to get a better look at them. Perhaps attracting small, adorable animals was a power all princesses had? Riddle wasn't sure but seeing the colorful hedgehogs cluster up to her, much like the boys had been doing earlier, made him feel both amused and weirdly envious. Yes, he knew that he was being silly but damn it all...she looked so pleased holding the little critters in her hands and cooing to them in a soft voice. Had it really only been one night that changed everything? Riddle was curious but not so much that he wanted to ruin her mood by questioning it. Instead, he joined her on the ground, properly introducing her to each little hedgehog, and showing her how each one liked to be held or pet or fed certain snacks. He almost forgot that there was an entire party of other people all around them. Unfortunately for him, Cater had already gotten plenty of shots while the two were distracted. 

 "They're so adorable it's almost sickening," he chuckled as he scrolled through the pictures he had taken of the unaware couple, "and look. They almost match, awww~" 

Trey looked at the picture on Cater's phone of Riddle and Reine side by side, both in their dorm uniforms, both looking very content as if they themselves were the king and queen, enjoying their own personal garden. He convinced Cater to respect their privacy and not upload those pictures onto Magicame...but he also asked that Cater text him that specific picture later. He hated to interrupt but it was almost time for the croquet match and he knew how Riddle was about keeping everyone on schedule. 

"Would you like to play as well, Miss Reine?" Trey asked, ignoring Riddle's put-out expression at the interruption. Just when they thought Reine couldn't get any more excited, her face lit up at the offer. 

"Can I?!"

"Of course," Trey chuckled, "do you play back home?"

Reine's excitement dimmed, "Unfortunately no. My mother doesn't allow traditional Red Queen croquet matches in her court anymore. She thinks it's cruel to the animals and just too silly and improper in general. I haven't played a game since I was a child and visiting my cousins." 

Riddle inwardly scoffed at what he just heard, "I don't know about being 'improper', but I assure you Heartslabyul takes pride in our care for these creatures and we also take pride in our matches. I insist you join in our game today, Miss Reine. This one seems particularly fond of you," he nodded to the blue hedgehog that had relaxed in Reine's hands quite some time ago and refused to move. Reine just beamed like a kid in a candy store as Riddle took her to meet the flamingos. Fortunately, the blue flamingo also took to her very quickly.

- 

"Let's run all the way through it one more time!"

Elise sat in the bleachers, watching her friends practice their routine with pride. The music and dance contest tomorrow wasn't nearly as big of an event as the official VDC festival but that wouldn't stop Manari and her team from giving it their all. Normally, the dance team would perform on their own but once the girls caught wind of their competition, they joined forces with Charlaine who had already gained some traction on Magicame for her singing. The petite Oscenellus dorm leader was known for her charming bell-like voice and repertoire of dreamy love songs which didn't really go with Manari and Jinnah's modern take on the fluid dances from their homeland but somehow, they made it work. Charlaine proved to be a fast learner, making the girls' dancing flow together seamlessly as she led with her vocals front and center.   The princess gave the girls a standing ovation as the song ended. Manari called for another short break and joined Elise up in the bleachers with a confident smile, "I know we're going up against both Vil and Neige tomorrow but I'm feeling pretty good if I do say so myself."

"You make it look like you could perform this routine in your sleep," Elise laughed, "the sheer force of popularity and bitter rivalry is against us across the board, unfortunately..." she pouted at the sales stats on the tablet in her hands, "I hate to say it but we're completely outmatched by Royal Sword and Night Raven."

"So gloomy," Manari sighed, "Can't say you're wrong though. Imagine how the Night Raven boys must feel, getting shown up on their own turf, oof...it's the Magift game all over again."

"Speaking of which...isn't this the same headband you wore to the game, Manari?" Elise gave the Kalim replica headscarf a smug grin. 

"Nooo...that one was burgundy and gold with a lot more beads. THIS one is white and gold and doesn't have the same train on it. Totally different, " she ignored Elise's look of skepticism, "besides not only does it bring me good luck, the Scarabia boys keep wanting to take pictures with me. I should start selling tickets. Ooo I'd make a fortune!" 

The girls laughed but Elise suddenly paused and gave Manari a serious look, "Wait...how many boys have asked you so far?"

"Geez, I've lost count. Even some of the boys from Royal Sword have stopped me for pictures!"

Eureka. Elise's face broke out into a smile, "Manari, you just gave me the best idea ever. Jinnah! Charlaine! Come here!"

The other girls formed a circle around the princess as she explained her idea to them in detail. It was very last minute and she would need some help but if they could pull this off...

"We may not be able to beat our brother school directly, but we can help our new friends here at Night Raven get some revenge while also getting a nice profit ourselves...what do you say, girls?"

The excitement spread like wildfire as the plan was passed on to the rest of the dance team. Manari and Jinnah shared a look of mischief before giving a unanimous 'oh yes!' and Charlaine was practically bouncing up and down like a chipper little bird. 

"Excellent. With Manari and Jinnah's combined illusion magic, we should be in business."

"Is this really ok though? The Headmistress is very strict about us using our magic outside the classroom...and this isn't on the photography club's schedule. She's bound to notice something is up." Charlaine wasn't against the idea, just the possible repercussions if they got caught.

Elise's cool resolve didn't even flinch, "Exactly. We need to be discreet and keep the details under tight wraps...which is why I know exactly who can help us."

Manari gave the shorter redhead a sly grin, "Besides...we only get in trouble if we get caught." 

-

The Rosabyrine girls' laughter ran throughout the Heartslabyul gardens as the sun crossed the sky. Reine couldn't hide her amusement as she chased after her mischievous little blue hedgehog as it kept trying to scamper off the field, "Come back here, you adorable little menace! One more swing and I promise I will give you as many treats as you like!" 

Riddle couldn't help but tease her a bit as his red animals had been behaving perfectly the entire time, "Having a bit of trouble, Miss Reine?"

The princess shot him a wry smile, "Why do I feel like you put them up to this, Riddle? Scared of losing your title to a new challenger so soon?"

The Heartslabyul boys were both shocked and amused to see someone so casually test their dorm leader. Cater took this rare opportunity to poke the bear a bit as he waited his turn, "Oooh you gonna let her talk to you like that, Dorm Leader??"

Riddle just snorted and gave the diamond a smug look, "Can you afford to be so concerned about me, Cater? Her Highness knocked you out of the running ages ago." 

Reine finally got her hedgehog to settle down long enough to take her final shot, securing her place in the top three with a gleeful cheer. Sure Riddle was still the champion but she did far better than expected. Cater took his last shot with the same lack of precision as he had been doing the entire game, letting Reine take his spot in second. Only Riddle seemed to notice but said nothing as the senior gave him a wink. The rest of the garden applauded and cheered, congratulating Riddle on another solid victory before the other boys started rallying up the flamingos and hedgehogs. Reine found her ornery blue ball and scooped it up in her hands like Riddle showed her earlier, sweetly apologizing for wearing the poor thing out. Riddle took a moment while everyone else was distracted and walked up to her. She looked up at him with an impish sparkle in her eyes.

 "Congratulations on taking first place. I suppose I will have to come back tomorrow to pour your tea, Your Majesty..."

Riddle's smile was a proud one, "Rule #703 - 'Whoever comes in 2nd place during a croquet match must serve tea to the Queen the next day.' It would seem so." 

Reine grinned slyly, "I shall arrive within the hour of your teatime. I wouldn't want you to break another rule on my account...Rule #228?" she giggled and brushed her fingers against the red petals of the rose adorned in her hair as Riddle's face turned the same shade. This girl would be the death of him, he was now sure of it. He sputtered some kind of response before finally getting enough of a grip to deflect the attention off of himself.

 "Y-You seem much happier today, Miss Reine. I'm glad."

Reine couldn't deny it but the events from the day before were still waiting in the back of her mind. She just decided to let them sit back there for today and as such, kept her soft regal air on and at the ready. Besides, when was the last time she had this much fun and it come so easily? Reine didn't want to ruin it, especially when they only had a few more days of the festival left. The realization felt sad but the princess stood and faced her host with a smile nonetheless.

 "I have you and the rest of Heartslabyul to thank for it," she suddenly became self-conscious now that the party was quieting down, "I..I'm sorry, I've been so flighty today. It's just been so long since I've had so much fun." 

Riddle gently took the blue hedgehog from her hands and smiled tenderly, "Don't apologize. I like seeing you this way." 

Riddle's voice was so quiet just between the two of them in their little corner. His heart was thumping in his chest and yet he managed to speak so earnestly it almost scared him. He felt his face grow warm when he realized how close they were to each other and how Reine was now staring at him...actually more like staring into him with her dark, curious eyes. His brain screamed at him to move away but he was completely frozen. 

 "What way is that, Riddle?" she asked, unmoving herself and speaking just as softly. 

The boy suddenly found it hard to breathe as he struggled to find the proper words, "Uh..just...I just like it when you feel comfortable around me. And everyone else too. It makes me feel good to know that you can be here and be yourself naturally. It feels...special." He felt his internal panic skyrocketing as every word that left his lips made the girl in front of him look more and more surprised. Their faces were so close that her warm, sweet breath tickled his as she hummed happily.

 "You are someone very special yourself, Riddle Rosehearts...I'm so happy that I've met you." 

The redhead nearly fainted as he felt his soul start to leave his body. The next moment was met with both overwhelming relief and internal rage crashing into the other as Cater popped up out of nowhere.

 "Hey you two~ Sorry to interrupt," Riddle wasn't convinced, "but Miss Reine, you have a call on your phone? You left it by your teacup during the game earlier." 

Riddle glared flaming hot daggers at the third year after Reine politely excused herself and thanked Cater for fetching her phone. The senior just grinned nervously at his dorm leader, "Now now, Riddle, let's calm down, shall we? You said you didn't want anyone to know right? You were getting pretty transparent there for a second..." Cater said in a hushed yet amused tone, making Riddle huff in flustered silence, "You're welcome~!"

 Once Reine returned to her seat, she was met with Manari's smiling face via video call, "Helloooooo! You having fun over there, hmm? Well, we can talk about that later. Listen, Elise got an amazing idea for tomorrow and we gotta move fast! Elise is getting things moving as we speak! So...!"

-

The Mostro Lounge proper had a quiet oasis feeling to it after all of the excitement of the past few days. The dorm leader sighed contently in the silence as he sat in at this desk, counting and calculating number after number. His peace was short-lived much to his annoyance once Floyd burst through the door without knocking.

"Azul~ You have a special visitor, heheh~" 

The octopus was about to scold the eel but stopped in his tracks when he saw the smiling girl standing in the dorm frame. 

"Hello Mr. Ashengrotto," Elise said his name sweeter than normal which sent a shiver through him as she approached his desk, "Please pardon the intrusion but I need to speak with you."

The girl laid a stack of what looked like contract papers in front of him, her sweet demeanor never faltering as he looked up at her in surprise. 

"I would like to make a mutually beneficial deal with you." 

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

Tagging:

@foxwitchaine @iscarlettappel @aiimee9 @nuitthegoddess @1ndigowitch @wysteriadelights @victoria1676 @evieyouknow

[akutasoda]

natsume soseki

»multi

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»headcannons and drabbles

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[sansypansy]

Joker's Lottery

Batfamily Members & Damian Wayne | 2k7 | Mature | Canon Compliant

“Don’t get too comfortable now, Bats and Birdies! I’m afraid you’re not leaving this place until we’ve played a little game I generously prepared for all of you.”

Joker’s sinister chuckle following his statement made the hair on the back of Damian’s neck stand on edge. Out of all the Rogues in Gotham, the clown had always been his least favorite, and not only because of the heinous crimes and the lack of morality. The Joker was a sadistic man who enjoyed to toy with his prey before going in for the kill, akin to how feline predators hunt. The results were never pretty, especially when the man had no problem breaking his victims down physically and psychologically, in the most cruel way. Even Ra’s al Ghul had more ethics and respected a personal code.

The Joker was just that. Pure evil. And Damian, much like his family, did not like what they heard next.

“As a man with many hobbies, I fancy a good lottery game from time to time,” He said with concerning enthusiasm. With one click of his fingers, Joker’s goons came into view with a peculiar machine—with a big glass globe filled with colored tickets and a long turn handle for shuffling. “I promise you’re all going to love it.”

Rape/Non-con, Underage, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Damian Wayne Whump

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