#I’ll answer some questions tomorrow if I deem them good enough

[donaweasley]

What If

Pairing: Loki x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Plot:

A silly game of “What-Ifs” between two friends eventually leads to the realisation that the future, if spent together, may not be as bleak as they had anticipated it to be. A dialogue-based best friends-to-lovers cliché.

Warnings: Relationship angst, too many dialogues, long read, happy ending!!!

Read time: ~28 mins

Author's Note:

It's a long read with far more dialogues than can be deemed healthy. The reason is, I didn't want their arc to feel rushed. It had to be cooked slow. Another reason is that, I can't help hearing my characters, and it triggers a flood of dialogues! I'm trying to work on controlling it. 😬 Hope you enjoy!

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

“C’mon! You’re breaking the rules now,” Loki casually waved his hand at his best friend.

“I’m not. There’s nothing to answer really,” (Y/N) replied with a shrug.

“There must be something on your mind!”

She pretended to think for a second, and shook her head.

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

It was a usual night in the compound. It was just another night when one of these two friends had called the other in the middle of the night for some midnight snack. It was just another of those happy times when they had tiptoed into the kitchen like thieves because...no, no one would mind some missing nachos or ice creams, but because it was fun!

It wasn’t easy for Loki to open up to someone, let alone to allow the other person in. Neither was it easy for (Y/N) to trust somebody, given her past, especially when that somebody was infamous for betraying almost everyone, at every step, not to mention his attempts at ruling Earth and causing massacre.

But time is a healer and a magician.

And here they were now, looking at the moon-washed night life through the west-facing glass wall, and playing a game of “what-ifs”. One would say that it was silly and immature; some would even call their talks gibberish. But when the night was so relaxed and carefree, why wouldn’t they be?

The pale yellow orb hovering above the western horizon cast a soft ray of light through the glass wall. Oblivious to its movements across the room, Loki and (Y/N) were wrapped in a thin blanket on a couch, their feet resting on two separate pouffes.

It had all started with a silly question, something like, “What if you weren’t stuck in this building tonight?”, or something along those lines; they didn’t even remember correctly anymore.

One question led to the other, and soon they found themselves tangled in a game of questions that would have been enough to create an alternate reality. But eventually, they found themselves, not answering with imaginary scenarios, but debating over one particular question:

“What if you find the love of your life tomorrow?”

This question was posed by Loki, rather theatrically, amidst the many others that had tossed different possibilities of their near future. And it was here that (Y/N) refused to play along anymore because, as she stated, it was “the most silly question ever”.

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

“So, you claim that my question is even worse than your ‘What if you were a Jotun cat’? What kind of a question is that anyway?” Loki teased.

“Of course, it is. Undoubtedly!” With one wave of her hand, (Y/N) dismissed his appeal.

“And how is that even logical, may I know?”

“C’mon, this entire game is out of the boundaries of logic,” she claimed. “Your behaviour is like that of a cat. Don’t make that face; it brings you closer to being a cat. And...a Jotun cat sounds cool!”

Loki sighed. “And my question is ridiculous! If the game is beyond all reason, then...” he shrugged, “say something...weird, and move on!”

“Fine! If I-if... If I meet the love of my life tomorrow,...I’ll stab him. Or her. Or them. I don’t even know.” She huffed.

“Ouch!” Loki made a face, ”Didn’t see that coming. I would enjoy the stabbing part though. Thank the Norns, you never declared your feelings for me!”

She looked at him sideways with a stern face. Loki noticed the irritation simmering just beneath her skin, ready to burst out at the next prodding.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on her arm, “what happened? Was it something I said?”

She turned her face away. But Loki wasn’t giving up that easily.

“(Y/N),” he gently tugged at her arm, “look at me.”

When she finally turned towards him, he held her by the shoulders just to make sure that she couldn’t move away again.

“Now, you’ll tell me everything. What happened?” He inquired again. “I thought you were having fun.”

“It’s nothing Loki, it’s just that...you know I don’t like discussing my non-existent love-life. It’s...it kind of makes me...sad sometimes. Especially in a setting like this!” She waved her hands at her surroundings. “I mean, look at it, a full moon, a silent night, blankets and… It just leaves me with this reminder that I’ll be alone all my bloody life!”

Loki’s hands slowly retracted from her form and folded themselves on his chest. And just like that, they both found themselves staring out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” Loki’s voice audibly reflected the guilt that had formed within, “I never intended to...”

“No, you shouldn’t be. It’s...I overreacted. I’m sorry, Loki. I just ruined the mood. Shit! And it’s not my hormones, mind you!”

“I know,” Loki chuckled. “And you did not ruin anything. It’s natural to feel, isn’t it?”

She looked at him with a raised brow, “Somebody’s learning!”

“Somebody’s got a good teacher,” he smiled.

“Aww!! I love it when you acknowledge my awesomeness!” She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in closer, and pinched his cheek.

“Ugh! Let go of me! Let...go!!”

The room was filled with (Y/N)’s cackles and Loki’s threats as he wriggled out of her grip.

“Do that one more time, and I’ll stab you!”

But it wasn’t enough to stop her chortles.

“Would you now?” she teased, and raised her hands again in a faux attempt at squeezing his cheeks.

He swatted them away.

“Stop it!” He warned again, only to emanate snorts from her.

But the next second, his voice changed into a compassionate one, “Why do you think you’ll be alone all your life? How old are you anyway? 80? 90? Isn’t that supposed to be old in human years?”

Once again her cheerful mood fled behind a thick curtain of annoyance. But this time she did not look away. She simply rolled her eyes, and pulled her legs from the pouffe to sit cross-legged, and shifted to face him.

“No, I’m not that old. But why are you suddenly so interested in this topic?”

“Because suddenly, you seem to have found an interest in getting annoyed.”

“Then don’t annoy me.”

“Not in my nature, I’m afraid.”

She couldn’t decide whether to hit him or laugh at him.

“Loki-” She curled her fists and shut her eyes.

“I’m listening, darling,” he smirked.

Of course, she knew how stubborn Loki could be!

Who else would know that better than me?

“Okay,” she placed her palms flat on her thighs, “the thing is...I can never make a relationship last more than two years. I waste my time trying to establish a...a proper, long-lasting relationship - something permanent - and end up with a heartbreak. Every. Fucking. Time. I’ve given up. I’ve had enough! Now, even if anyone makes a move, or if I’m interested in someone, I just remind myself that it’s not gonna work! I just don’t put any effort anymore.”

Loki hummed in response; his eyes were focused on her as if he was trying to decipher a mystery.

“And,” she continued, “given my current ‘job’,” she air-quoted the word, “I’m more sure than ever that no one will last more than two months now!”

Once she voiced the storm in her head, her eyes softened and she looked down at her lap. Through hooded eyes, she stole a guilty, fleeting glance at her friend, who seemed to be musing about something really serious. His eyes were strained on the carpet, while his chin rested on a fisted hand balancing itself on his thigh.

For a long moment neither said anything. Only the distant buzz of the sleepless city floated through the air and filled the room.

It was Loki who disrupted the silence with a long and heavy sigh.

“I knew that Midgardian men were impatient, narcissistic-”

“Look who’s talking,” she smirked as she interrupted him.

He gave her a quick deadpanned stare before resuming, “-imbeciles, but I was beginning to think that they have good tastes in women. It’s disappointing, not surprising though, that they have proven me wrong.”

A small laugh almost made its way to its escape, but she pushed it back. “You think so?” She quipped.

He shrugged, “From what you’ve said, there is no reason to think otherwise.”

She sat a little straighter. “Really? Do go on!”

Loki immediately noticed the effect that he had planned for. Without giving away the joy of his small triumph, he continued, “Indeed! Look at you! You’re an amazing woman! You’re brave, witty, independent...smart...excellent with knives! And that’s my favourite thing about you, by the way. ”

Feigning offence, she exclaimed, “And I thought your favourite thing about me was that I tolerate all your tantrums, and keep up with your shenanigans.”

“I don’t throw tantrums, darling,” he pushed the accusation away with his silky tone, “and don’t tell me that you take no pleasure in the havoc that we wreck together.”

At this, she could no longer suppress the evil grin that spread across her face, “I do love a bit of chaos. It’s fun.”

“To think of it,” Loki added excitedly, “had you been on Asgard, you might have been the Goddess of Chaos!”

“Oh! Thank you!” She replied with a dramatic wave of her hands.

Both laughed at the way their words were unfolding.

“Thank you, Loki,” (Y/N) said after their little whirlwind of laughter had calmed down, “I guess I needed to hear something nice about myself. It’s been a long, long time since I heard it.”

“I meant every word of it,” he replied in a solemn tone that made something flutter in her chest.

Was it gratitude? Was it joy? Was it love for her best friend?

It was hard to tell. It seemed to be everything at once.

She simply smiled at him. “Even the ‘Goddess of Chaos’ part?”

“Especially that part,” he asserted, and she laughed.

“You’re the best, Loki!” She gave him a half hug.

“That, I definitely am. But you’re not too shabby yourself. And you should never ever be sad for someone else’s failure.”

“Alright, I get what you’re trying to do here,” she landed a playful punch to his shoulder. “I’m fine! Really! I just got a little carried away.”

“No, I really mean it,” he tried to assure her. “You are one of the most magnificent women I have known! And mind you, I’m rather picky in these cases.”

She laughed, “Of course, I’d know that! ... Loki, it’s...it’s alright. Some people just don’t have it in them to sustain relationships no matter how wonderful they are. I’m okay with it.”

“Come on! A narcissistic God is showering you with genuine compliments! And you’re still not convinced that it’s not your fault but of all those who failed to keep up with you?”

She tried another attempt at convincing him, “It works both ways.”

“Norns! I can’t believe you’re so foolish!”

“Enlighten me, please,” she drawled.

“I believe I have already established the fact that you are phenomenal.”

When she giggled and nodded, he carried on.

“Good. Now, your job, as you put it, shouldn’t be a hindrance in your relationship. You’re doing the marvellous job of being a guardian to thousands of people. People you don’t even know! How many would put their necks out there to do it?”

“C’mon, Loki, when duty calls, you have to leave everything behind and just go! Who’d tolerate that for days? They will snap one day.”

“I’d never do that!” Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself, “What I mean is, had I been in their place, I’d have never done that.”

“That’s because you’re on the team,” she argued. “So, it’s normal to you.”

“No, it’s not because I’m on the team. I’d-” He sighed. “Fine, why don’t you try finding someone from this field? Stark’s parties are a great place to hunt humans.”

“‘Hunt humans’?” She snorted, “I like the sound of that. Nay, haven’t found anyone. Besides, mixing professional and personal life can be fatal. You never know when your personal life might get jeopardised because of a mission gone wrong. Y’know, the usual blame-game and all. I hate all that!”

Loki brooded over her words for a few seconds before asking, “I don’t get it. Why would it be fatal? I mean, look at us,” he gestured in between them. “We have a perfect understanding. We’d never blame the other for any petty thing. Or-or let it affect our friendship.”

“That’s because we have the perfect understanding, Loki! You said it yourself. It’s a rare thing that we have. And I can’t expect it to be with anyone else. They’re not you, Loki.”

“They’re not us,” he corrected her.

Joy seeped through his senses as he watched her face brighten up at his words.

With a nod, she continued, “You see, all that spark, excitement, promises - these sound really great at the beginning. As time passes, as the real world pushes in, love moves to the backseat. Love is not enough. There comes a time when you have to balance everything together, and love becomes one of those things. It becomes a chore.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow you,” Loki stated with a frown. “That sounds so sad!”

“It is!”

“Well, it shouldn’t be! Loving you shouldn’t be a chore! Let’s say...hypothetically...if I’m in love with you, then you’d be my passion. And passions never become a duty, not even in the worst of times. Instead, they help us breathe when everything comes caving in. You’d be my...my moment of peace in a war. How could I not be tempted to embrace this beautiful moment?”

“Unfortunately, Loki, that’s not how it works. See, when you have a lot on your plate, say your job, your dreams, your daily life and all the pressure that comes with these, you’ll find less and less time for your loved one. Things get hectic and eventually frustrating. You won’t be able to keep that flame alive even if you want to. And one day, you’ll come to realize that you have distanced yourself from your moment, even if you never wanted to. But it’d be too late. There’d be no going back.”

“I’d never distance myself from you! I mean, from my moment. I’ve been a king, and I know how taxing royal duties can be. Sometimes, it seemed like a luxury to get even a minute to myself.”

“See? So, how could you have found time for me?”

“I would have, darling. Not plenty, but whatever little time I’d have gathered, I’d have made them memorable. For you. For us. And maybe we could have gone on long rides occasionally. Rekindle the old flames? Or-or we could have gone on visits to other realms...for political reasons, of course, but could have taken the opportunity to spend a small vacation with each other. What do you say?”

Painfully tempting images of a life that could have been floated in her eyes.

“And what if we came back to Earth, and I got involved in...say, a job that was all hectic and left me all frustrated, and with little time for you?” She shrugged.

With a sigh, Loki shifted to face her fully. “We will take care of each other, (Y/N). If one gets low, the other pulls both up. And I know that together, we can do anything! I believe in you more than I believe in myself.”

She smiled brightly as she acknowledged, “That is...that sounds doable, yes.”

“You’re special,” he placed a hand on her cheek, “and you need to be treated in the most special manner. One that befits my queen.”

A moment passed between them as they looked into each other's eyes, both seeing the same beautiful picture.

His queen!

My queen!!

Wait, what is he...?

Damn! What am I doing! What will she...!

Loki cleared his throat as he abruptly pulled his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry, I...”

“No, it’s okay,” she cringed at the way the words squeaked out of her. Clearing her throat, she continued, “We were just giving examples.”

“Yes, just examples,” he agreed.

“It’s fine! I understand.”

“Great! It’d have been quite...awkward...otherwise.”

“Oh no! It’s...uh...totally fine. We’re best buddies!” She gave his arm a light punch.

“Right!” He nodded, and focused his gaze on the floor.

After taking a minute to calm his heart, he wore his witty persona back.

“See, having a relationship is not at all tough. All you need is a good partner. And I’ve proved myself right again! No, wait. There’s something you mortals do. It’s...uh...about throwing something...”

“Goblets? We don’t do that. It’s you-”

“No, not throwing, it’s about dropping something...after you have proven a point...”

“...Mic drop?” She chuckled.

His eyes lit up.

“Yes! ‘Mic drop’. So, as I was saying, all you need to have a happy and successful relationship is a good partner. Mic drop!” He concluded as he mimicked the action.

She sighed. “There’s just one tiny problem. I’d probably never find the right person. The ones that flirt with me, don’t understand me, and the ones that understand me have friendzoned me.”

“I’ve never friendzoned you,” Loki quickly replied with a frown. “J-Just clarifying...in case you were talking about me.”

“Of course, I’m talking about you, you big oaf!” She flicked his arm.

“Hey! You friendzoned me.”

“No…? It was you! Well, yeah, I never tried to flirt with you or anything but...anybody could see that you were being just my friend.”

“I can say the same about you,” Loki playfully accused.

“Whatever,” she shrugged.

A thought started playing in her mind. And a couple of seconds later, she decided to say it aloud, “I...umm...Just curious...y’know, don’t take it in any other way. Did you ever think of flirting with me?” She put forward each word very cautiously.

Loki furrowed his brows, and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she warned him, “Be honest!”

Immediately, his confident attitude changed into a helpless one. “Yes, I did. Maybe once. Or twice. But that was all! I assure you!”

She could hardly contain the amusement that was bubbling inside.

“What’s so funny about it?” Loki asked with furrowed brows.

“Nothing,” she shook her head as she tried to hold back her laughter, “nothing at all. It’s,” and then she lost it, “I’m sorry! It’s funny! I don’t know why, I find it funny hearing from you!”

“Look who’s laughing!” He said wryly. “I could clearly hear your thoughts the first few days after I stepped into this structure. Every compliment that your little mind cooed at my divine persona. And may I dare say that not all of them were decent.”

Her hysterics were long forgotten as her face went red at the comment.

“How dare you invade my mind?” Her hand had balled into a fist, ready to hit his arm when he caught it.

“I didn’t invade it, darling. You were practically shouting inside that pretty head of yours. I could have heard it from the other side of the planet!”

“That was a long time ago,” she refused to meet his eyes. “I make better choices and better decisions now.”

“Do you?”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it without uttering a syllable, and crossed her arms.

Loki nudged her with his elbow. “Hey, it’s fun to tease you. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“I hate you,” she peeked at him through the corner of her eye.

“What can I say,” Loki sighed. “Alright, if you say so.”

She smirked as she glanced at him sideways.

Loki cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle manner. “So, the next time Stark throws a party, I’ll find someone for you.”

Immediately, she face-palmed, and groaned, “No.”

“What?”

“Please drop this topic. And you’d probably find me a psychopath, anyway” She joked.

“That hurt!” Loki exclaimed with a hurt look masking his humour, “do you think so little of me? Can’t I find a proper partner for my best friend, my darling?”

“No, it didn’t hurt. Don’t fake it. I know you better than anyone.”

“No, you don’t. You-”

“I do. And...I’m fine, Loki” she reassured him, “being with myself, with the people here, being with you.” She gently bumped her knee into his.

“Will these be enough?” His tone had left the playfulness behind. “Will I be enough? For all your life?”

She shrugged, “I think so. You...stick with me all the time, you understand me, you...make me feel good. What more could I want to be happy?”

“You know what more you are missing. A friend can never touch the boundaries of what a lover can give you.”

“I don’t need a lover. Just be with me all my life, and I won’t need anyone else.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I will. I promise.”

Her playful smile was back. “Thanks for all the pep talk, my dearest God. But turns out that I’m better off alone. Now can we please go back to the game? It’s my turn to ask you.”

“Alright,” he smiled back, “if you say so.”

“Stop saying that!” A defeated sigh left her. “You won’t be convinced, will you?”

“Probably not. Because I know that this will gnaw at you again a few days later. I know you’ll be sad again. And that I won’t allow on my watch.”

“God!”

“Right here, listening to you!” Loki quipped.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, ”Damn you!” And proceeded to put forward a proper argument.

“The reason why I’m avoiding a new relationship is because I don’t want another heartache. I can’t handle breakups. That’s why I’m...”

When Loki didn’t make another attempt at dissuading her from her arguments, she added, “I just...try everything to avoid a heartbreak. Because when I get one, I lose control over myself.”

“Yes, I’ve seen. Once.”

“Then you must have noticed how vicious I become. Sarcasm drips from my mouth all the time, I say things that I shouldn’t, I...I hurt people. And in turn, I hurt myself. I yell at those who want nothing but good for me. But...”

“But being mean seems to be the only way to mask the pain,” he finished her line.

“It does, yes!”

She looked at him, and into his eyes that silently spoke of the pain that was resurfacing. She remembered something.

“You and I are so...alike!”

He nodded with a smile. “And maybe that is why we understand each other more than anyone ever could. … But we’re more than just being alike, if you think about it.”

She noticed how his voice gradually rose from its usual calmness to an excited tone, and his hands moved with his words.

Loki continued, “You point out my mistakes but don’t accuse me like everyone else does. You show me what’s right. And there’s this-this thing about you, which is so scary...the way you make me do all the things that you want. I-I mean, I am the God here! But you…a mortal...how can you have so much power over me?”

He sighed as his voice dropped to a compassionate tone, “You make me happy, (Y/N). You’ve taught me to forgive when I can, to forget what I can’t fix.”

“Don’t always do that,” she interrupted with a smirk.

His evil smile made a brief appearance before he resumed his warm note, “I like being with you. No...I love being with you! You make me feel good. You make me feel...I don’t know.... You make me feel…”

“Complete?”

“Yes!” He observed her, “You complete me.”

For yet another time, silence enveloped them. The only difference was that this time, it was comfortable. Even in their hushed moments, they could hear each other, know what the other wanted to say.

After a while of exchanging quiet stares, (Y/N) spoke, “All this time I believed, but now I know for myself, that you are indeed Silvertongue!”

Loki looked at his lap and laughed, but in the pale light of the setting moon, she noticed the pink that had crept up his ears and cheeks.

“I meant every word of what I said,” he reassured her once again that evening.

“I know, Loki.”

Loki watched her as she shifted to a kneeling position, and leaned towards him. He felt his face becoming hotter as she supported herself on his shoulder with one hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheekbone.

As she settled back, her lips tingled with the memory of Loki’s skin on it.

They had been best friends, yes, but she had never allowed herself more than a quick hug because she knew that Loki wasn’t someone open to random touches. And she wanted to respect that. Always.

But this peck felt right. It felt necessary. And it felt...different.

What happened next wasn’t guided by logic anymore, but only by their senses.

Loki put his legs back on the pouffe, and scooted a little closer to (Y/N). Taking the cue, she shifted so that her leg was stretched out, and back on the pouffe - not on hers but his - and sat close to him. He arranged the blanket so that it covered them both again.

Another stretch of silence enveloped them. To them, the moment was beautiful. To Loki, who had never experienced anything similar before, it was precious. If he could stop time, he would have done it right then and there.

“Why haven’t you found anyone yet?” She asked him.

“Royalty has its disadvantages,” he replied without taking a moment to think.

She leaned back slightly to get a good look at his face, “Didn’t you ever find anyone from the royal...uh...what do you call it? Of royal blood?”

Loki laughed at her naivety. “Can’t say I didn’t. But none of them were the one. Besides, most people chose my handsome brother over me. And if anyone chose me, well, it was mostly because of my royal title. None of them were real.”

“That’s awful! I would never have done that to you! I’d have chosen you for the wonderful being that you are. But, I get it; happens on our planet, too.”

“Everywhere,” he asserted.

“So...who do you think is the one for you?”

He looked down at her face, which was mere inches away from his. For the first time in months of their friendship, he felt something swell inside his chest at the closeness.

“I still don’t know,” he whispered, “but I think the Norns might have started giving me clues.”

He didn’t need to explain, obviously. All the tension that had been building up throughout the night had placed them both on the same page.

Without thinking, Loki moved his wrist so that his palm was facing the ceiling. And instinctively, (Y/N) placed her hand in it, their fingers closing around each other.

"It's odd," she announced after a while.

"Indeed."

"It's weird. I mean, what were we even thinking!" She huffed, although she was still clutching his hand, as was he holding hers.

"Exactly what I was thinking. You and me?” Loki laughed nervously, “Come on!"

"Yeah!"

"Right".

Silence, their faithful companion for the night, visited them once again.

"Could it be? You and me?" Loki’s voice was a little more than a whisper, and bordered on the edge of confidence and doubt.

"Doesn't sound so bad. Not after all these... Talks?" She whispered back.

"Right!"

"Right."

And once again, they fell quiet.

The strangeness of the moment pushed them both into a whirlpool of thoughts. From acquaintances to partners to friends to best friends to...lovers?

Can this even be possible? What if it’s just a passing phase? What if everything goes back to normal tomorrow? Will we still be able to talk normally? But… This feels right. Just...right.

With a sigh, (Y/N) put her head on Loki’s shoulder.

"I don't want to rush into anything and ruin what we have," she confessed in a hushed tone, eyes staring into the night outside.

"Neither do I. You're the only one I have."

With a raised brow, she looked up at him.

"And Thor," he corrected himself with a small smile.

"Glad you remember him "

"Shut up.

Slowly, hesitantly, Loki put his free hand around her. Unsure of the appropriateness of the action, he kept his arm loosely hanging around her frame.

He waited for a while. Had Loki looked at her face, instead of looking straight ahead in fear, he would have noticed the small smile that had formed on her lips.

When she didn’t flinch or protest, he began to rest his arm properly but gently on her. He even went ahead and made the slightest possible effort to pull her closer to him.

The smile that had started forming on her now spread wide enough to turn into a grin. Its reflection was found on Loki’s face, too, who could finally muster the courage to look at her, although he was equally worried that she would be able to hear his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

With every minute that passed, Loki became more baffled, for he couldn’t decide which moment he’d frame and hang on the wall of his heart as the most precious one.

"Are you feeling hot?" She asked without looking at him.

"A bit, yes. You, too?"

"Quite a bit, actually," she gulped.

"Is it normal?"

"I guess, yes. Totally! Had we been cool about it, it'd have meant that there's no spark between us. It’d have felt awkward, wrong."

"So, you agree that there's a spark between us?" He didn’t even attempt to hide the mischievous smirk that shone on his face.

"I had always suspected," she nodded.

"Hmm. When was the last time we went out for dinner?" He asked.

“Probably last month...or was it-”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at him. She could barely put a lid on her excitement.

"Are you proposing to take me out on a date?"

"Well, if we are going to do this, then I'd like to court you properly."

She felt like she'd burst out of sheer excitement.

"If you'd agree to it, that is" Loki clarified.

Taking a large breath, she replied, "I'd love it."

The night was going better than either had expected. Who would have thought that a game of weird questions and a few confessions could change their lives!

(Y/N) put her head back on his shoulder, and let her body slump against him. He held her confidently this time.

“It still feels weird though,” she declared.

“It does, yes, but...maybe this is...right?” In a long time, Loki was hopeful about something, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. No.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.”

“Just so you know,” she sat up straight, “Thor is handsome, yes, but you are devilishly charming. You’re intelligent, well-read, witty, sarcastic, great at combat...uh...”

“Go on,” Loki smirked, earning a playful glare from her.

“You are,” she continued, “seductive! And who can resist a sorcerer who knows his way around everything!”

The evil smile that Loki had put away found its way back on his face. “As far as I remember, I did nothing to seduce you. I wonder what will happen if I try...”

“Shut up, Loki! You know I give away raw compliments. I didn’t really mean...I didn’t think...”

He laughed heartily at the furious way she was blushing.

“I was only pulling your leg. I had imagined you to be wise,” he clarified.

“I am! It’s just... I was...” She shook her head.

“So,” Loki resumed, “you think I’m devilishly charming?”

“Drop the topic, please!”

“You can’t resist my sorcery, ha?”

“Please change the topic! Forget what I said!!”

Loki laughed as he continued teasing her. It wasn’t going to be an easy ride, she realized, with the God of Mischief, but it was going to be the best ever!

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“I know it was your turn to ask but, what if...you and I are indeed meant to be together?”

She smiled as she rubbed her cheek on his shirt, “I think we’ll have a gorgeous future together. And...I’d love that more than anything else.”

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

The next morning...

“Morning, Wanda-”

“Shh! Shh!!” The red-haired witch silenced Natasha, and pointed towards the couch.

Curious, Natasha’s eyes followed the direction that Wanda’s finger was pointing at.

There, snuggled in a blanket, fast asleep, sat (Y/N) and Loki, their legs spread on a pouffe, tangled with each other’s. Loki’s arm was wrapped around her shoulder while she was holding his waist. Her head lay on his chest and his on hers.

“Aren’t they cute?” Wanda whispered.

Before Nat could reply, Tony’s voice cut the conversation.

“Who’s cute?”

This time, both the ladies shushed him, leaving a perplexed expression on his once sleepy face.

When they pointed towards the couch, Tony huffed, “These two! God knows what’s taking them so long to realise! They’re just so-” His face lit up. “Know what? I have an idea! I’ll make them confess. Who’s up for it?”

***

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

And...a song for keeping the feelings floating...💕

[krispytidalwavesheep]

Hopes and Dreams III

.I am not entirely sure about this chapter, if I’m completely honest, so I’ll probably rewrite it at a later time. If you want to get added to the taglist just let me know! Thanks for your continuos support with this fic, it honestly gives me so much life right now! *** Chapter 3

“There seem to still be a few things you haven’t seen.” Lady Dimitrescu stated after you reached the sitting room.

“It’s not everyday that you see girls turn into a swarm of bugs. I’ve seen a lot, but I never said I have seen everything.”

“Which brings me to the question that I want answered. What are you? My first guess would be that you are a vampire, like me and my daughters, but I have a feeling that that isn’t true. Sit down please, so that I can take a look at your wound.” Her tone brooked no argument, so you did as you were told and rolled up the leg of your pants. You winced when you saw the true extend of the damage. Even with enhanced healing it would take a few hours to properly heal.

“My biological father was a scientist, who researched a lot of occult and supernatural topics. He was also a massive asshole who thought it okay to experiment on his own baby daughter, so there’s that. I don’t know how, but someone he got his hands on the DNA of some creature no one really has a name for, but I have a guess. The only thing he really knew, was that they are like Vampires, but much more powerful.

He injected me with the DNA when I was four, but nothing happened, so I was deemed a failure. He did all kinds of tests on me, to see if the DNA would activate, but it didn’t. At least not until he tried to kill me. I was no stranger to torture after he failed, but that night I knew he came to finish it. I was 10, and I was scared and angry, so much so, that something in me broke. There wasn’t much left of him after I was finished. 

I’ll spare you most of the details of what happened after, since it is not relevant for what you want to know, and I hate the feeling of being exposed when I don’t know if I can trust the person in front of me. I ran away and my benefactor found me and took me in. I don’t know how, but somehow, he knew what I had become, and he took it upon himself to make sure that I got the best training I could get. I can somewhat use my enhanced abilities, but I am not completely awakened. I’ll get to that part shortly. 

After 6 years I was deemed ready to repay the favor and got sent on a hunt for rare artifacts, as I mentioned earlier. I was free to research my condition whenever the opportunity arose, and I did. I traveled the whole world, met all kinds of creatures and people, yet no one could help me with my predicament. That was until 8 months ago, when I found the first real clue. But that clue came with a price and I have been cursed. 

I still don’t have a name for the creature that I have become, but I found an old text that explained a lot to me. My kind won’t fully awaken until they bond themselves to another being, that has roughly the same power that we have. That’s where the curse made things more complicated: If I try to bond with anyone that isn’t my destined mate, I will die. Slowly and painfully. 

And if that isn’t enough, the curse took the ability to sense my mate away from me, at least in the traditional sense. Usually, we will know our mate by smell alone, for their blood will sing to us like nothing else ever could. We would feel a strong pull towards them, and they to us, for our blood will be just as exquisite to them, as theirs is to us. The curse took that ability away from me, and now I am destined to walk the earth, waiting for my mate to find me. 

Another side effect is what I call ‘boiling blood’. When I feel threatened enough it will activate and temporarily awaken me. I can’t control it though, and that is the problem. It only happened once so far, and that was when someone I care a great deal for, got hurt. But I have it under control for the most part. I just don’t like it when people I care about get hurt, I lost myself even before the curse happened. And I do understand if you deem me to dangerous and kick me out of the castle. You wouldn’t be the first one.” You ended lamely and sighed. It always took a lot out of you when you talked about the past. 

“You mentioned that you have a theory about what exactly you are?” Alcina asked and gently patted your dressed wound. You suppressed the gentle shiver that wanted to roll down your body and said, “I think I am a Vampire, but one of the first generation.”

***

“And what makes you think that?” Alcina asked carefully. You pondered that for a moment, her eyes never leaving you. She could see that it took a toll on you to tell her all that, and she could understand that. Admitting what had happened couldn’t be easy, especially when there was the possibility that you would be thrown out or worse. Alcina didn’t plan on doing either of those things though, and she would tell you soon enough. An idea was forming in her head.

“I read a lot about vampires and had my fair share of encounters, none of them as nice as the one with you, so I figured it must be something like that. Whenever a Vampire turns someone, a miniscule part of their DNA gets implanted in the one they’ve turned. That is why your Maker will always be stronger than you. But since I got way more DNA with fathers’ experiments, it could mean that I am the first person who got turned into a Vampire of the first generation. And if not first, then second, which would still be infinitely more powerful than a Vampire of third or fourth generation. Although I can’t be sure, since I destroyed everything that could give me a clue, when I killed my father.” You said silently, looking at the floor. Alcina couldn’t help but feel pity for you. A bad hand was dealt to you, and you just tried to live your life. She also admired how strong and confident you were, even after all that had happened.

“I have an offer for you.” Alcina said and put two fingers under your chin to make you look at her, ignoring your blush.

“Stay here. You have nowhere else to go, right? You fascinate me and I want to know more about your abilities if you are willing to show me. And I could use a hand to help me in the castle’s upkeep. But make no mistake, my dear. As soon as you show me that you become a threat, I will dispose of you. What do you say?” Alcina asked, but she knew your answer already. She could see it in the softening of your eyes and the spark of hope that flickered in your eyes. You gently nodded and gave her the most brilliant smile she had ever seen. Both of you briefly wondered where that feeling of trust came from, you more than Alcina, but for the moment it was enough.

***

A weird sense of coming home fell over you, when you looked into her eyes, that had gentled with your consent. She could probably kill you with a snap of her fingers, but somehow you got the feeling that she wouldn’t. Most people feared you when you told them what you were, not all of them humans either. But she gave you the feeling of safety, no matter what your nature was, and you wondered. Could she be the one that was fated to be with you? Or was that just wishful thinking, because she showed you kindness where everybody else would only show you fear and hatred? You were immensely attracted to her, that’s for sure, but could she be the one? 

“I want to see the full extend of your abilities as fast as possible if you don’t mind. If it is alright with you, I would arrange a little sparring session between you and my daughters.” Lady Dimitrescu said and took a seat on the chaise lounge in front of you. 

“I wouldn’t mind. It has been far too long since someone has offered me a challenge, so I will gladly accept, my Lady. My wound should be fully healed by tomorrow, so we can start first thing if you’d like,” you offered, eager to show her what you were capable of. Maybe she will keep you around for longer if you show her that you would be a valuable asset to her castle.

“I would like that very much, my dear. But now is time for you to eat and rest, as it is rather late. The day has been rather long and eventful, not just for you.”

“Of course, my Lady,” you smile and as if on cue, the door to the sitting room opened and one of the daughters entered the room with two plates. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nostrils. The two of you ate in companionable silence, and soon enough it was time to leave her presence for the night. 

The guest room she showed you was like nothing you have ever slept in before. You were used to all sorts of places to sleep, but never have you seen a bed so big and comfortable looking.

“Good Night, my dear. I hope you sleep well,” Lady Dimitrescu said and left you to your own devices before you could answer her. You dressed down to your tank top and shorts and fell into a peaceful slumber as soon as your head hit the pillow.

***

When you next opened your eyes, you were surrounded by the familiar darkness of your dreamscape, yet something felt different. You could sense a presence at the edge pf your consciousness and soon enough, a gentle voice spoke to you “So you finally found her.”

“Huh?” you asked into the darkness, chills running down your spine. The voice giggled and a shadow crept into the edge of your vision, which soon turned into a girl, that oddly enough, had somewhat of a resemblance to you.

“Who are you?”

“You’ll have to find that our for yourself. But what matters is, that you have finally found her. My Alcina,” the girl said and looked close to tears, although she was still smiling.

“Don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think that Lady Dimitrescu belongs to anyone.” You said, defensive of the Lady. That made the girl laugh again, and you couldn’t get over the fact that she looked so much like yourself.

“You are right. But she was mine, as I was hers, a long time ago. Listen, the castle’s magic is strong, but not strong enough to give me enough time to explain everything. Just trust me, okay? Stay by her side, no matter what. Protect her. But most important: Take care of yourself. She lost us too many times already, but maybe you are the one that will break this hellish circle.” 

“I-I don’t understand!” you said desperately, trying to reach for the girl, but she was already fading.

“We will speak to each other again when the time is right. Until then, remember my words. Please protect her. Do what we couldn’t do and survive.” Were her parting words before you awoke, drenched in cold sweat. What the fuck was that?

But no matter how hard you tried to grasp at your dream and its implications, you felt your consciousness fading and fell back into a deep slumber.

***** Taglist: @imdreamingblo @x-x-trixxster-k-m-w-x-x

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Research

Ririka Momobami x She/Her Reader (feat. Kirari being a nuisance)

A/N: Ririka’s relationship leaves Kirari feeling a bit envious and curious. Never a good combination. I think Kakegurui Kari ruined me from ever characterizing Kirari in a proper way. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy! Word Count: 3,456 (what are the odds?!)

“Ririka, how is it that you and (Y/n) are already in the hand holding stage of your relationship?” Kirari had asked out of the blue at dinner whilst swirling her drink, watching the liquid spin around.

Ririka recognized that look in her sister’s eyes. It was a dangerous one, boredom. And if there was one thing the older twin knew about how her sister dealt with boredom, it was to stand back as far as possible and disappear into the background. She couldn’t not answer Kirari though, that would just pique her interest even further. So, Ririka assumed the best disinterested face she could muster and answered her sister’s odd query.

“(Y/n) brushed her hand against mine one day when we were walking in the school forest. We looked at each other and we just sort of gravitated towards each other. Now it’s just something we do.” Ririka shrugged before savoring the last bite of her meal. Unfortunately her answer did not yield the desired effect as Kirari leaned forward a bit in her chair, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“So you’ve communicated your intentions telepathically. How does one go about achieving that in a relationship?”

Ririka swallowed, wishing she could have chewed just a bit longer on the delicious morsel. “Not at all. We just... read each other’s cues.”

“So it’s like gambling?” Kirari asked, intrigued.

“In a way, I suppose.” Ririka said. She didn’t think so, but if there was one thing her fish brained sister understood, it was gambling. It was just about the only reference she understood besides those related to outer space, baseball and the ocean so naturally, she applied it to everything.

“Hmm, I see.”

Ririka had a moment when she thought Kirari was satisfied and was about to excuse herself to her room. Unfortunately, Kirari wasn’t quite done with her yet.

“So will you use the same method when you share your first kiss as well?”

Ririka fumbled with the silverware before she could place it back on the table. A fatal mistake in the presence of her twin.

“You’ve already kissed then? My, Ririka, you’ve only been together a couple of months. Aren’t you moving a little too fast?” Kirari asked, an amused and all knowing smile pulled at her blue stained lips.

“I assure you my relationship is moving at a normal pace. (Y/n) has been wonderful and hasn’t pushed me into anything before I was ready.”

“Is (Y/n) often the one to make the first move then?”

“If you must know, she is. She has more experience than me when it comes to these things.” Ririka answered, eyeing the grand clock none too discreetly. She hoped Kirari would lose interest soon.

“I see, more experience then.” Kirari nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Ririka sighed, “If you won’t be needing anything else, then I’m going to my room.”

“There was one thing.” Kirari spoke, pausing Ririka in her tracks. “I will be needing the mask for tomorrow. There is something I must observe.”

“Very well.” Ririka answered plainly. She knew if she turned the questions back on her sister she’d be met with riddles and she was too tired to decipher them tonight. Ririka leaned over the large table and set her mask in front of her sister. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Kirari grinned, pulling the mask up to her face just enough to cover her chilling smile. It was an action that was completely performative, that much Ririka knew. If only she could understand just what her sister was up to.

Ririka simply continued on her way, getting ready for bed in her en-suite bathroom before falling into bed and wrapping herself up like a burrito. She reached her arm out for her phone and pulled it into her cocoon, smiling as she read (Y/n)’s goodnight text. She sent one of her own and was about to put her phone back on her charger when she remembered she wasn’t going to be herself tomorrow and frowned. She messaged (Y/n) again to fill her in on the switch as she usually did when they came up. It was something she really felt compelled to do after she and (Y/n) started dating. The last thing Ririka needed was for Kirari to upset (Y/n) while masquerading around as herself. With her message sent, Ririka put her phone back on her nightstand and curled further into her burrow of blankets.

***

(Y/n) walked through the main gates of Haykkaou Academy the next morning, breezing right past the students loitering around, not quite ready to enter the property for one reason or another. Usually Ririka would be waiting nearby, but sadly this was not going to be one of those days.

(Y/n) decided she’d head right into the school and do some work at her desk or maybe gamble with her classmates if they were paying something that caught her interest. She had just finished switching her shoes at her cubby when another pair of feet stopped right beside her.

Craning her head, (Y/n) was very surprised to see a familiar theatre mask smiling down at her. A sight that she had grown used to over the past couple months she had been dating Ririka. (Y/n) stood up, confused but no less delighted by her girlfriend’s sudden appearance.

“Hey! I thought you said you were busy today.” (Y/n) said.

“...” Only a small crackle of static as Ririka took a breath reached (Y/n)’s ears.

“What’s up, is your sister driving you crazy again this morning? Is that why you’re here and not in the council room?” (Y/n) asked, closing her shoe cubby. She knew Ririka wasn’t much of a conversationalist so she wasn’t particularly bothered by the silence, but a, ‘good morning’ would be nice at the very least.

She did not receive a greeting, just a blank stare through the black holes of the mask.

“Well, I was going to go to our classroom and hang out until class started, but if you’d rather go somewhere more quiet we can do that too, what do you think?” (Y/n) asked.

“Let’s do what we normally do together in the morning.” The distorted voice replied. Not that (Y/n) could know for sure, but it almost sounded commanding.

“...Okay then. I’ll just have to change my shoes again real quick.”

(Y/n) changed her shoes and started walking back to the courtyard, pausing momentarily to give Ririka a questioning look as the masked girl watched her move.

“Ririka, are you doing alright?” (Y/n) asked. She felt like she was playing twenty questions without getting any hints.

Ririka tilted her head just slightly before falling into step beside (Y/n). Her knuckles brushed (Y/n)’s hand and made the other girl stare at her oddly from her peripheral but other than that, they continued through the students coming into the school as they left. Ririka was intermittently bumping hands with (Y/n)’s in the process until she surprised (Y/n) by taking her hand completely.

Ririka hardly ever was the first to initiate contact, much less when other students were around to witness it. Even when the president had happened upon them, Ririka would get flustered and shrink away. Now here they were in front of the school’s main entrance surrounded by students, and Ririka had scooped up her hand and laced their fingers like it was nothing. Her hand wasn’t even clammy or shaking at all. Needless to say (Y/n) felt that something was off with Ririka today. In fact, she would bet big money that the person holding her hand right now wasn’t Ririka at all!

(Y/n) knew about the twins tendency to switch off whenever Kirari deemed it necessary, but never had the president bothered with (Y/n) while pretending to be Ririka. Just what was the president doing? (Y/n) decided she’d play along for now, to hold her cards close to her chest until she figured out Kirari’s game. (Y/n) doubled down, curling her fingers over the incessant imposter’s hand.

Once they arrived at their destination, a secluded part of the school forest away from the noisy courtyard, (Y/n) assumed her usual position sitting with her back against a grand old tree. Testing Kirari, she patted the free space between her legs, intending for the president to sit with her back to (Y/n)’s front. Then they could listen to the songs of the forest as (Y/n) normally would with Ririka. Speaking of which, (Y/n) was going to have to apologize for showing Kirari their secret spot. Honestly, Ririka would probably not be too pleased about any of this situation but (Y/n) just had to find out why the president was doing this.

The masked figure loomed above (Y/n) for a moment before beginning her decent, but to (Y/n)’s shock, the other girl took the cue as a signal to straddle her so they were both facing each other. Years of gambling helped (Y/n) hide her horror well, as she smiled the fakest smile to ever exist. Just who the hell did the president think she was? Well, she was trying to be Ririka, but was failing miserably.

Swallowing her urge to lash out at the younger of the Momobami twins, (Y/n) continued to pretend nothing was wrong and continued her reconnaissance, resting her hands over Kirari’s thighs.

“Anything on your mind, Ri? Do you need something?” (Y/n) asked, feeling proud of how smooth and unassuming her voice sounded.

Another crackle of air and a tilt of the head was the only reply (Y/n) received. Really, it was like Kirari didn’t know how to be Ririka at all beyond the mysterious vice president. When Ririka took on Kirari’s role, she did so extremely well. It kind of scared (Y/n) how well Ririka could impersonate her twin. The same could not be said for Kirari. She didn’t seem to know how to act like Ririka at all. At least, not in this instance.

It was a bit infuriating really, to think Kirari actually thought she was getting away with her little charade while putting in so little effort. (Y/n) was about to tell Kirari to get off of her when a hand reached up between them and pulled at the mask, slowly lowering it to hover just above the president’s nose.

Perhaps she wasn’t too bad after all. Downcast eyes, timid yet deliberate movements, even the faint flush of her cheeks seemed legitimate and for a second (Y/n) almost believed her. Almost. But the amusement that seemed to be ever present in the younger twin’s eyes could only hide so deep in crystal blue irises.

“I need you. Show me, show me how you take charge.” The twin’s voice whispered, taking in the cadence of her sister with frightening precision. Yes, the tone was good but the words were so wrong. Ririka would sooner shoot herself in the foot than say something she would consider so embarrassing.

Just what the hell was this girl after? What was she gaining from this torment? Was this some kind of gamble and depending on (Y/n)’s reaction, could be someone’s undoing? What was the right move to make?

“(Y/n), please. Kiss me like we’re doing it for the first time again.”

“What the hell?” (Y/n) couldn’t keep it in anymore, if someone was losing a bet right now she was sorry, but she could only handle so much ridiculousness. “What game are you playing, president?”

(Y/n) tried to wiggle out from underneath Kirari but she held firm, the facade she had put up melted quickly as she allowed the mask to drop on the ground beside them and pushed (Y/n)’s back firmly against the tree trunk with one hand as she grinned down at her fellow classmate. The effect wasn’t quite the same without the striking blue lipstick but it was still enough to make (Y/n) shiver.

“So you did figure it out. I was wondering why you would be holding out on me. I was beginning to think my dear sister was wrong about you.” Kirari mused, eyes glinting. “The only other person that can tell us apart is Sayaka, what gave me away?”

“First, get off of me.” (Y/n) said, making a shooing motion between them that made Kirari giggle as she stood up. “Second, you have to tell me what your goal was in all of this.”

“My goal hmm?” Kirari tapped her chin thoughtfully as (Y/n) got up from the ground as well. “Well, quite simply it was for research.”

“Research about what?”

“About your relationship with my sister.” Kirari answered.

Like that made anything any clearer. (Y/n) pressed a hand over her forehead, the other a firm fist against her hip, “but why?” She asked.

“I think I’m entitled to having my curiosity sated now.” Kirari said instead, looking over her plain, pale nails.

(Y/n) pushed an audible huff of air through her nose, choosing to cross her arms tightly over her chest instead and even going as far as to tap her shoe against ground. Kirari actually rolled her eyes at the display, an action the president wouldn’t give the general masses the pleasure of seeing lest she appear too human.

“I just don’t understand how you and Ririka have only been together for three months and you’re already holding hands and kissing when I’ve been with Sayaka for nearly two years and we have done neither. Ririka said you were the more experienced one, I thought I could learn something from observing you.”

“Wait, you and Igarashi are actually together?” (Y/n) couldn’t believe her ears. Igarashi obviously worshipped the ground Kirari walked on but (Y/n) had always found it hard to understand if Kirari was just stringing her along or not.

“Of course we are. I didn’t build that tower for just anyone.”

Ah yes, Ririka had told (Y/n) about the tower. What lunacy. She would be surprised if Igarashi truly understood what Kirari was going for there.

“Did you actually ask Igarashi to date you point blank or did you just imply it? You should know how her mind works by now.”

“But I don’t. That’s what makes her so spectacular.” Kirari sighed pleasantly.

“Well trust me, if you make your intentions absolutely clear I’m sure you’ll see some changes in your dynamic. Tell you what, let’s go to the student council room and sort this all out now before classes start.”

“Are you hoping for a seat on the council? Is that why you want to get involved?” Kirari smirked.

“I’m just trying to help my girlfriend’s sister so she doesn’t pretend to be her in my presence ever again.” (Y/n) shook her head and started to walk back to the school. She took out her phone and texted Ririka to let her know they were en route, “and I knew it was you because Ririka doesn’t act like that with me. I will not elaborate because the last thing I need is for you to get anymore funny ideas.”

Kirari hummed with amusement before placing the mask back over her face and together they made their way back to the school and up to the council room. Thankfully Ririka must have been able to end the meeting early because only she and Sayaka were left in the room.

“Oh thank god,” (Y/n) sighed walking over to Ririka’s side to rest her forehead against the older twin’s shoulder, making her blush and ruining the carefully crafted persona of her younger sister.

“What are you doing?” Sayaka said indignantly. “You can’t just come in here whenever you wish. Anyone with council business could come in and think you were involved with the president instead of the vice president!”

“Sit down Igarashi, I’m about to do you the biggest favor of your life.” (Y/n) said, lifting her head from Ririka’s shoulder to point at Kirari as she removed the theatre mask and placed in on the table. “Kirari wants to date you.”

Sayaka blinked, processing the words before her skin turned beet red, equal parts embarrassed and angry.

“That’s not funny, Senpai!”

“It’s not a joke! C’mon Kirari, tell her.” (Y/n) said before cupping Ririka’s ear to whisper, “If this doesn’t work out, I’m gonna scream.”

“It’s true Sayaka, though (Y/n)’s approach seems dull and predictable, it has come to my attention that you may not understand that I wish to be with you,” Kirari glided forward, her hair flowing behind her like a curtain, her hand outstretched to Sayaka, “so, hold my hand Say-a-ka, and be mine.”

“Uh oh.” (Y/n) and Ririka muttered in unison as Sayaka babbled, her head moving jerkily between Kirari’s face and her outstretched hand before her knees buckled. She almost hit the ground but Kirari caught her just in time, grinning down at her secretary.

“I told her to sit down.” (Y/n) said, shaking her head.

“It appears that Sayaka needs a nap. You two can head to class, I’ll watch over her.” Kirari said, placing the unconscious secretary on the couch.

“Sure, you just want an excuse to stay out of class.” (Y/n) turned her attention back to Ririka, still in her sister’s make up, braids and annoying ruffled shirt. “Come on Ririka, let me help you get changed real quick.”

“Okay.”

Ririka grabbed her mask from the table and together they headed to one of the side rooms off of the main council room where the twins kept their spare uniforms. While (Y/n) helped Ririka gather her belongings and remove the fresh blue nail polish and smooth out her hair, she told Ririka all about Kirari’s invasive behavior.

“So yeah, it was super weird but I guess it was worth it if it means she’ll be too busy with Sayaka to be too interested in what we’re doing.” (Y/n) explained, brushing Ririka’s hair into place. On the last stroke, she reached in front of Ririka to put the brush back on the table and as she went to withdraw, her wrist was gently encased in Ririka’s hand.

“Ri?”

Ririka tugged on (Y/n)’s arm until she sat down on the bench beside her. It took (Y/n) everything she had not to giggle once she registered the sweet pout the older twin was sporting.

“You held hands with my sister,” Ririka grumped, “you held hands with my sister and let her sit in your lap.”

“Yes, very begrudgingly I did. Only because I wanted to know what she was trying to do, but I promise it’ll never happen again.” (Y/n) spoke seriously.

“Good.” Ririka sighed, resting her head on (Y/n)’s chest, making her laugh.

“We can’t stay here all day. We have about fifteen minutes before we have to get to our classroom and you still haven’t changed your blazer and shirt.”

Ririka whined quietly before tilting her head up to look at (Y/n). “May we, first could you,” Ririka bashfully tapped her lips, still stained with blue, “you know.”

“Happy to,” (Y/n) tucked a strand of Ririka’s hair behind her ear, “let me just wipe that lipstick off first.”

Softly but thoroughly, (Y/n) ran the cleansing wipe across Ririka’s lips a few times until all that remained was muted pink. Then she dabbed at them with a wet washcloth so no trace of the bitter tasting makeup remover remained. As soon as she removed the cloth she leaned in, meeting Ririka lips with her own.

(Y/n) pulled away after a moment, a smile splitting her lips upon witnessing the relaxed and dreamy look on Ririka’s face, her cheeks dusted in a pleasant pink color that complimented her bare lips.

“I’ll wait for you to finish changing and we’ll walk to class together, okay?” (Y/n) said softly.

“One more first, please.” Ririka asked, pulling (Y/n)’s blazer to bring the girl closer.

“Of course.”

Another kiss and the fifteen minute buffer before class became eight minutes and they had three floors worth of stairs to climb. (Y/n) waited for Ririka to finish changing in the hall. She would have waited in the main area of the council room, but Kirari was sitting on the council room couch with that little smirk on her face. Her calculating eyes watching (Y/n) move across the room as the president patted Sayaka’s hair while the secretary remained unconscious with her head in Kirari’s lap.

When Ririka emerged, mask set into place, (Y/n) looked down both ends of the empty hall. When she was satisfied that no one was around, she pulled the mask to the side, surprising Ririka and making the vice president’s breath hitch.

“What?” Ririka asked.

“Just making sure.” (Y/n) replied, kissing Ririka’s nose before covering Ririka’s glowing face with the mask once more.

(Y/n) took Ririka’s hand and they jogged up the stairs, managing to slide into the classroom moments before the teacher.

[blahkugo]

Sleepless

Shouta Aizawa X Reader (BNHA)

Warnings: 18+, bondage, bratty rc, over-stimulation, umm it’s just pure filth sandwiched between some fluff 

Word Count: 3.9k

A good night’s rest? You’ve never heard of her! 

“At least take off your heels before you throw yourself into bed,” your boyfriend’s voice rings out, still deeply agitated from a long night of feigned smiles and interest. You know that tone well— the exasperated sigh typically saved for his students at U.A— but the room is spinning too fast for you to take heed of his reprimand. 

“M’too tired,” you slur your words, face down against your mattress. 

The two of you had been at a pro-hero gala, or as Shouta called it, a “gaudy show of riches for politicians and government dickheads.” It had taken almost all of your energy, and a lot of homemade dishes, to persuade him to accept the invitation; however, he had followed through. He behaved properly all night, smiled and socialized with every partygoer that approached you, and even ensured the vicious insults on the tip of his tongue were whispered into your ears only after each person had turned away. You deemed the night a success, despite waving off Shouta’s warnings about that fourth glass of champagne you downed. 

“You’re going to get our covers dirty, idiot.” You can’t help but feel your heart flutter at that word— our. Be it the hundredth or thousandth time, you don’t think you’ll ever get over hearing him refer to the two of you as one. It had taken years for him to warm up to you, after all. While he considers it endearing now, you’re positive Shouta had initially found your constant laughter and positive nature unbearable, thinking of you as simply another nuisance to avoid; never had he met someone who reduced his usual threatening tone to something playful or entertaining. And little did either of you know, he would slowly come to adore the way his scolding amused you. 

No amount of persuasion from his students or other heroes can convince you Shouta is actually intimidating. If anything, his constant stoicism only compels you to misbehave more. You love pressing his buttons, take pleasure in watching him get riled up and lose his calm demeanor. But as of this very moment, you’re simply too tired, and a bit too tipsy, to play along. You wave off his words with a flick of your wrist, only to feel a tug at your ankle. 

“Wha–” 

“Stop squirming. I’m trying to take them off,” he struggles with the straps woven intricately up your calves, “damned things are more tangled than my cloth.” When he finally removes them, you feel the pads of his fingertips graze your legs softly. Shocks travel your entire body as he pays special attention to the indents adorning your skin— drawbacks of the tight laces that are quite easy to disregard when they urge him to touch you so sweetly. 

Shouta stalks away for a moment, only to return with a cotton pad and makeup remover. You’re surprised he even knows what products to use, though you know you shouldn’t be. He has spent countless minutes watching you complete your night routine intently, though usually his stare is paired with a sleepy grumble to hurry up and join him in bed. 

He shifts you into a sitting position, wiping tenderly at your cheek while you pull off your false lashes.

“Those are fake?” He snorts, baffled. 

“Mhhm, I’m prettier without them, right?” You poke fun at him, knowing he’ll ignore the cheesy question. A faint heat rises on his cheeks. 

“Shut up and put this on,” he nudges one of his t-shirts into your arms before he slides your strapless dress down your body. Even with your eyes half-shut, you can feel his charged stare ogling every hill and valley of your naked form. His fingers barely skim you— a purposeful maneuver to focus on the task at hand— but your body jerks into his grasp, keen for more. Sleepy or not, you’d never waste an opportunity for a quickie. You know just how swiftly a few words and caresses on his part could have you bucking and sobbing, like putty in his han– “(Y/N), stop. You’re drunk and half-asleep.” 

“Only tipsy and a quarter asleep, thank you very much.” Your eyes flutter open to see the beginnings of a smile touch his lips, but he just barely holds it back. He’s trying his damn hardest to remain stern, how cute. “Shou,” you mewl, elongating his name in the hopes that he’ll budge.

“Don’t pout at me,” he taps a chiding finger against your bottom lip, “the answer is no. I still have work to do.” Ignoring your whined protests, Shouta walks out of the bedroom. Seconds later, you hear his office door shut, a sign that he’ll be in there long into the night. 

Any inkling of sleepiness your body possessed is gone without a trace, now feeling nothing but an intense heat coursing the skin your boyfriend brushed, and the alcohol left running through your veins only intensifies that warmth. You turn yourself over in bed, naively will yourself to succumb to sleep and deal with the ache tomorrow; however, your body has other plans. Your thighs press together on their own, desperate for any sort of relief to quell the throbbing between your legs, but it’s no use. Looks like you’re getting up. 

With each step towards his office, you find yourself more impassioned. Who does Shou think he is anyways, leaving you alone in such a needy state? It’s not fair. He gives you the slightest taste of his touch and then cruelly rips it away. So if anything, it’s his fault that your body won’t rest until completely appeased— until he soothes the burn. Besides, you’ll be damned if you’re going to allow him the pleasure of hearing your moans through the thin walls knowing he goaded you into touching yourself.

Upon walking through the door of his workspace, you’re greeted with the sight of your boyfriend, the stealthy pro-hero, seated ever-so casually at his desk. He has a hand pressed adamantly against his temple and his hair up in a messy half-bun. So badly do you want to run your hands through it, tug the clip off so you can watch those beautiful, dark locks tumble down his shoulders. You always catch yourself silently hoping for a piece to fall in his eyes so that you can reach out and tuck it behind his ear, delighted when you have any excuse to stroke the soft waves between your fingertips.

“Shou,” you mumble, one hand rubbing at lidded eyes. The white glow of the computer screen washes over him as he turns to you, and you feel your breath hitch again at the Adonis in front of you. 

He’s opted out of wearing any sort of top. Instead, gray joggers hang low on his hips, allowing you to feast your eyes on his lean chest and softly sculpted v-lines. A dark line of hair trails down into his pants, and you feel your mouth water at the idea of licking a long stripe up his navel. 

“Can’t sleep.” You’re aware it comes out a whine, don’t care to correct your tone because it may just convince him to join you in bed. He rolls his eyes, your name flowing off his tongue with a low sigh— music to your ears. 

“I have work to catch up on since somebody forced me to go to that stupid gala,” the accusation is probably sincere, but you smile anyways. 

“Please,” there’s that whine again, “just five minutes.” This time your words are accompanied by a quick yank at the hem of your t-shirt. Your cleavage makes an appearance, and when you see his eyes wander up towards the supple globes— tongue just barely poking out to slide across his bottom lip— you know you’ve got him beat. He mutters under his breath, but the only words you catch are something along the lines of ‘pampered brat’. 

Well, spoiled or not your methods work, and he’s the one indulging your whims anyways. Being curled up against Shouta’s sturdy chest, you find the fatigue of a long night creeping up on you once again. His close proximity is enough to relax you; all of your senses are engulfed in his presence, saturated with him. Your body gladly welcomes his scent with every inhale— clean laundry, aftershave, and something a bit woodier that can only be described as ‘Shouta’. Though he shaved this morning, newly grown stubble scruffs against you every time you nuzzle against his jaw. Slender fingers tangle in your hair, smoothing lazy circles into your scalp. And with your ear pressed to his chest, you realize the slow, steady drum of his heartbeat just might actually lull you into a deep sleep. 

But that’s all before you hitch a leg around his hip to pull him closer. At the sensation of your heat nudged tightly against him, you feel his heartbeat rise rapidly. If any thoughts of sleep linger in your mind, the prospect of riling Shouta up— and perhaps securing an orgasm or two in the process— throws them out the window once again. 

Your fingertips begin to caress his shoulders subtly, ear still pressed to his chest to listen for any jumps in his rhythm. The less he notices your movements, the easier it’ll be to overwhelm him all at once. When your fingers don’t incite any noticeable response, you run them through his hair instead. At the same time, you feign discomfort at the position you’re in and twist your hips slightly, making sure to press your core against him harder. You feel his breath hitch under you, and then your hair being jerked harshly. 

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he forces you to look up at his cloudy eyes, always ringed with darkness no matter how much rest he receives. Caught. You flash him your sweetest pout, gazing up at him through dainty lashes. A slight ‘hm?’ leaves your lips, but within seconds, they’re attached to his neck, shamelessly kissing and nibbling at the sweet spot near his jaw. “If you’re not going to behave on your own, I’ll make you.” Your thighs tighten around his hips, goosebumps trailing your arms at the clear-cut threat.

“Do it then,” you urge between kisses, now peppering them up his jaw. Your teeth kiss the shell of his ear before you whisper, “or I’ll just keep misbehaving, daddy.” 

In an instant, your face is shoved into the mattress, arms crossed behind your back with Shouta’s cock straining against you through his pants. Rigid cotton brushes against your folds and you realize that perhaps he was expecting this turn of events more than he let on, because the fucker never bothered giving you a change of underwear. 

“You’re such a needy slut,” he spits, heated breath fanning your neck while he tightens his grasp around your wrists. “Can’t go one night without getting me worked up, huh?” His free hand darts under your shirt, now kneading and pinching at your ass. 

“Nope,” you bite back, always ecstatic to provide sassy retorts, especially when he’s seething like this. 

A stinging pain travels your body when he slaps the globe of your ass. Once, twice, five times, each spanking invoking a louder gasp until tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

“Are you done acting up?” Shouta’s tone is slow and composed, almost disinterested. If not for his heaving chest pressed against your back, you would believe him unaffected by the punishment. 

You, on the other hand, are very obviously flustered. Tears stream down your face freely now, and you’re positive the spanking has left a blazing handprint on your cheek as a reminder for days to come. Shouta gives you a final, petty love tap to shake you out of your thoughts. “I don’t have all night.” 

But you’re left unsatisfied, the throbbing between your thighs only worsened by his harsh welts and complete neglect of your clit. He hasn’t made a single motion towards your glistening cunt, probably won’t ever if you simply take his discipline lying down. 

“What if I’m not?” The words leave your mouth hesitantly, face turning to stare back at him with wide, unblinking eyes. He doesn’t say a word, his own eyes narrowing and lips quivering into a disgusted scowl. Even though you’ve asked for this, know exactly what situation you’ve gotten yourself into, your heart quickens at the thrill of seeing your partner so worked up. He may not be outwardly angry— Shouta has always been a man who prefers quick, biting remarks over piercing screams and smashing glass— but his mannerisms tell you everything you need to know. It’s going to be a long, sleepless night.

You feel the tight, unforgiving fabric knotted around your body before you’re even aware of what’s happening. Nimble fingers quickly wrap your arms in place. Then, your legs are bent at the knees and tied securely to your wrists. Only your taut midriff and breasts touch the mattress, leaving your sopping core exposed, no way to flail or deny him entrance. You’re his to do whatever he pleases with.

“Behave.” He wraps your hair around his wide palm and yanks hard, a pained cry leaving you at the prickling in your scalp. His fingers graze your slit, but never touch you where you need him. It’s absolutely maddening. You buck into him to no avail— the cloth wraps too firmly around your limbs. 

“Shou, I– I, please,” you’re practically sobbing, his name leaving your lips over and over like a prayer. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve angered him. 

“Who said you could speak?” He tugs harder on your locks. The motion rocks your skull, all nerves standing on end. It fucking hurts, but the action has your slit quivering all the same. “Are you going to be a good little whore now?” 

“Yes, Shou.” The response wins you a sharp slap to the ass, the sore cheek. You suppress a loud wail, correcting yourself quickly. “Y-Yes daddy, I’ll behave.” He doesn’t respond, only lets out a low growl and loosens his grip on your hair. 

Then, his presence is gone. He’s moved off the bed, and your cunt pulsates at the number of delicious things he may do next. 

A slam rings out from your bedside dresser and he’s back within seconds. Something foreign, hard and long,  is pressed against your tight hole. No stretching, no warning, he simply sinks the toy into your slick cunt. After a few merciless thrusts you’re whimpering softly, choking back pleas. If he wanted you to beg, you’d know it. 

“Is this what you wanted?” The dildo is driven into you faster. “Is this what you were grinding like a bitch in heat for?” His words are spit like venom, tone disappointed— appalled— with you, but it only fuels your steady ascension to orgasm. You’re teetering closer and closer to the edge, but you just need a bit more. His cock, a finger on your clit, anything. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” You can’t help the onslaught of moans that spill from your lips in between pants. His hands begin kneading at your ass again, right cheek still flaming with every touch. If he’d only remove the bindings, now digging tightly into your wrists and ankles, you’d be able to hump back onto the toy as you so desperately wish to. 

He stills all at once, leaving you distraught and gasping. If you cry out, you’ll only be met with harsh reprimands. You want to sob— for his touch, for a break, for anything to soothe the ache in your core. 

You hear it before you feel it.

A small buzzing noise as something is clicked on. Then, vibrations wracking your insides, your clit— a slew of pleasure as the dildo pulses. You sigh loudly, that stubborn itch finally being appeased by the pressure of the toy. 

“Is my pretty little slut enjoying herself?” Shouta laughs behind you, voice still cold and filled with loathing. It’s as though he’s repulsed by your desire, your ceaseless need for him. You mewl loudly at the thought. “Mhm, and you’re going to continue enjoying yourself,” you feel the bed dip as he steps away, “until I finish my work.”

The fucking bastard. He’s leaving you tied up and helpless with a sex toy on the highest setting. He knows you’ll be a drooling mess for him, probably only half-conscious, by the time he’s back.

“N- no Shou, please.” Your protests do nothing to sway him. He simply snickers and walks out of the bedroom, leaving you to writhe and wail on your own. And God, does it feel good. Your stomach pulls taut as you rut against the bed like– like an animal. In a constant cycle of edging and ebbing, your orgasms build and build and build until you’re hit full force, only to begin all over again. It’s equal parts satisfying and unfulfilling, because fuck, do you just want your boyfriend’s cock inside you. It’s all you can think of— his warmth, his hands roaming your body, sweet, degrading nothings whispered into your ear while he pounds into you.

You lose track of time, aren’t even sure at this point whether your body is spasming or simply attempting to dispel the thick length inside you. The pleasure has turned to an entirely different ache, swollen clit now abused by the constant vibrations. Your voice is run hoarse, face carved into a permanent wince. And despite your attempts to stay quiet, chokes and gasps still rip through your throat. Even Shouta’s cloth is soaked through with the scorching sweat enveloping your body.  

Though absolutely exhausted, you’re conscious enough to hear his quick steps as he makes his way to the bedroom. You can sense the smirk plastered across his face without even seeing it. 

“Tired out?” Fingertips ghost over the cloth and across your painfully numb calves, nerves jumping at the feeling. “Ah’, you’ve soaked the bedspread.” A fierce blush runs across your skin, humiliated at the sight you must seem to him— a drooling, high-strung mess. He either doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore the way your body shakes at every prod. 

All you can do is let out a meager ‘Mmph’, your brain too scrambled to form anything close to words, let alone coherent sentences. “If you use your words, I’ll consider taking the toy out.” Shouta’s ruthless; he knows every inch of your body, your reactions, like the back of his hand. Of course he’d ask you to use your words. He lives to watch you come undone, thrives off the pain etched onto your features. 

“Please,” the request is drawn out— paused midway to let loose another gasp— and dripping in desperation. “I can’t– I just-”  It’s all you can manage in your state. 

“Seems you’ve been fucked stupid,” he chuckles darkly, though the vibrations wracking your cunt finally come to a halt and the dildo is swiftly removed. Your core clenches at the emptiness. “But I haven’t had the chance to stuff this tight little pussy full,” he slaps a harsh palm against your slit, making sure to wipe the slick that now coats his palm all across your cheek. If you weren’t aware of how soaked you were before, Shouta makes damn sure that you do now. The most you can work out in response is a feeble squeak. 

One of Shouta’s hands strokes at your matted hair from behind, agile fingers tidying the disheveled strands. The other rubs harsh circles on your clit; you twitch incessantly, sparks running through every inch of your body. “There’s that pained little face I love,” he grabs at your cheeks roughly, forcing your lips into a ‘o’ while grinding into your calf. “Fuck.”

Your legs and arms slump onto the mattress as soon as the cloth is unbound. Every muscle in your body aches with overuse; numbness buzzes through the limbs that were strung together for God knows how long. 

Your boyfriend— sadist that he fucking is— thrusts himself into you without warning. Sure, you’ve been stretched by the toy, but your poor slit is so overworked by previous orgasms that even the slightest hint of friction invokes senseless blubbering, your tongue lolling to the side in defeat. Wet, harsh slaps of skin against skin sweep the room, mixed with cries of ‘daddy,’ ‘please,’ and senseless nothings.

“Wanna see you cum.” It’s an order more than a request, grunted into the crook of your neck. His chest flattens against your back. It should feel suffocating, should feel disgusting, considering your body is gleaming with hours worth of perspiration, but you’re enamored with the warmth— engrossed by the way your skin sizzles at his touch. His fingers are secured at your hips, propping your ass in the air and pulling it against him with every piercing thrust. 

“N- no, can’t,” cheek still buried into the mattress, you muster whatever strength you have left and grip at his slick bicep behind you. He simply swats your hand away, takes your wrist between his slender fingers, and presses it into the bed. His thumb caresses the marks left by the cloth, savoring the aftermath of the punishment he inflicted. 

“You can and you will.” Despite the rasp in his voice, the command still holds authority over your forlorn frame and sends prickles down your spine. You feel yourself, yet again, creeping to the edge of an orgasm. “Cum for me.” 

It’s those three, simple words that have you seeing white. Breathless, your brows scrunch together and lips open into a wide ‘o’, but no sound comes out. Your whole body tenses, all senses overwhelmed by this final tidal wave of pleasure, and then finally goes slack. 

You’re officially done, body worked to the point of no return. A couple more snaps of his hips and Shouta follows, your name grunted loudly as he spills into you. 

For a long time you simply lay together silently, chests heaving with his body still splayed over yours. You know that eventually he’ll roll out of bed and make sure you’re all cleaned up. You always revel in the way he pampers you, taking his time to ensure he doesn’t miss a single inch of skin. If you weren’t so exhausted, he’d probably run a bath as well. 

Right now, the heat is finally proving too much for you, so you tap at his hip and he slides himself out of your raw core. 

“Ouch,” you wince at the friction, the ability to speak returning to you at last. The whole bottom half of your body is tender. It’ll be a miracle if you’re able to sit comfortably for the next few days. 

“Surprised you actually behaved,” he chuckles, flipping you over to hold you. His fingers rub lazy circles into your back and he presses a kiss to your forehead, “You were so good for me.” 

“Not like you had me tied up or anything,” you poke a finger at his chest. “And to do paperwork at that.” 

“Oh,” a slow, smug smile inches across his face, “I didn’t get any work done.” You might just slap him.

“Shouta,” your voice is even, but your eyes pierce his, narrowed in disbelief, “what do you mean you didn’t get any work done?” His laugh rumbles through his chest. 

“Do you think I could really focus, hearing your screeching through the walls like that?” 

-

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[spacexcowgirl]

I Think He Knows - F.W.

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N gets drunk, and decides there's no better time to tell her boyfriend she loves him than the present.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Alcohol usage/intoxication!! There’s a make out scene. Also food. Otherwise mainly just fluff!

A/N: This is my first fic I’ve ever posted on here and the inspiration for it was born out of a drunken anon ask to @lumosandnoxwriting​ sooo here it is. I’ll probably end up writing another part about the next day and them recouping, but who knows. Totally open to any critiques/criticism/help anyone has to offer! Pictures are taken from Pinterest.

The flashing lights were bright and the music far too loud, but you didn’t care. You had liquid courage flowing through your veins and it was making it increasingly easier to lose yourself on the dance floor. Typically, you weren’t much of a dancer, but several shots of some pink liquid you had forgotten the name of had you abandoning all traces of your usual self. You swayed your hips to the rhythm of a song you didn’t know, giggling every time you made eye contact with Alicia or Angelina.

As the song playing came to an end, you gripped your best friends’ forearms and dragged them from the dance floor before another could start. You briefly heard their groans of protests but couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“I want another drink!” You shouted over the music, pulling them towards the bar.

“We don’t need another.” Alicia pointed out, but she was now following you on her own accord, which told you she wouldn’t be protesting too much.

At the bar, you ordered another round of shots for the three of you—asking specifically for ‘whatever the pink one is called.’ The three of you clinked the small glasses together before raising them to your lips and throwing your heads back, allowing the liquid to leave a burning trail down your throat. 

“I’m going to call him.” You announced brightly, slamming your glass down on the bar.

“Y/N, we talked about this!” Angelina whined. “Tonight is supposed to be girl’s night. Plus, Fred’s out with his friends. You should give him his space.”

“Oh please, you act like that boy wouldn’t drop everything to rush over here and be with her.” Alicia rolled her eyes lightly, a knowing smile lighting up her face.

Her words caused you to blush furiously, which you attempted to hide by sliding your cellphone out of your back pocket and bringing it to your face. The screen was too bright, but as you fumbled around with trying to turn it down, you came to realize just how drunk you really were. You quickly gave up on trying to turn down the brightness and instead opened up the call app, clicking at the button that read ‘Recents’ before tapping the name right at the top. You barely registered Angelina’s disappointed groan as you brought the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” 

“Freddie!” You called out, a sweet giggle leaving your lips. You were filled with the most wonderful elation at speaking to your boyfriend, sending a flutter of butterflies alive through your stomach.

“Oh, hello, Y/N.” The voice chuckled. “This isn’t—”

“Where are you?” You interrupted him, rocking slightly on your heels. Angelina was people watching those out on the dance floor, while Alicia had taken up flirting with some bloke next to her.

“We’re still at Lee’s flat.” There was a pause, then he continued. “Y/N, this is George you called. How drunk are you?”

“I don’t think I’m that drunk. Let me ask Angie.” You paused, putting the phone on speaker so your friend could answer for you. “Ang, how drunk am I?”

“Very.” Angelina answered over the music, earning a laugh from George on the other end of the line. “’s that George? Lemme talk to him.”

Angelina took the phone from your hand, ignoring your pout as she did so, and switched it off of speaker mode. At first, you had tried to listen in on the conversation she was having with George, but you quickly got distracted. You hoisted yourself up into one of the bar seats, kicking your legs back and forth as you gazed around. After a few minutes, you were pulled from your drunken thoughts when Angelina nudged you with your phone.

“He hung up?” You pouted as you looked at the black screen. “Are they coming here?”

“No, they’re staying at Lee’s.” Angelina shook her head. “But they said they’d meet us back at your flat when we leave here.”

“Well, let’s go!” You quickly went to jump down from the stool, only for Angelina to place her hands on your shoulders and hold you in place.

“Uh uh, we’re gonna let you sober up a bit first.” She shook her head. “Don’t want you doing something you’ll regret tomorrow.”

“Especially when we know you’ll blame us.” Alicia now joined in, evidently blowing off the guy she had been flirting with only moments before.

Perhaps if you were even a little less drunk, you would have been annoyed by their statements. But currently, you were in a state of almost childlike happiness and wonder. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to thoughts of your boyfriend, causing a cheesy grin to rise to your face. The past 6 months together had been some of the best of your life, and you often found yourself wondering why you two hadn’t gotten together sooner. You had always been friends during your Hogwarts years, but neither of you ever attempted to take that next step in your relationship until years after graduation. Now, you couldn’t be more thankful with the change.

“I’m going to tell him I love him.” You declared, saying the words out loud as more of a way to convince yourself than to inform them.

“What?” Alicia sputtered, shooting a worried glance to Angelina. “You mean, tonight?”

“I don’t see why not.” You shrugged. “I mean, I do love him. Why shouldn’t I tell him?”

“Y/N/N, don’t you think maybe you should wait until you’re sober?” Angelina looked at you hesitantly. “I mean, that’s kind of a big step.”

“You guys don’t get it,” You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest like a child being scolded. In your drunken mind, you knew that they would never understand the ins and outs of your relationship with Fred. The two of you had never put pressure on things that others deemed ‘the big stuff.’ Everything always had just come so naturally between you two, and you were convinced this should be no different. A small voice in the back of your head told you that the sober version of you would disagree, but you pushed it away. Your decision was made.

“This is like, exactly what we mean by you doing something you’ll regret and blaming us.” Alicia sighed. “So, you better not be mad at us tomorrow.”

“I won’t be, promise.” You affirmed. 

How could this possibly go wrong?

About an hour later, Angelina and Alicia had enough of the club environment and had decided you were sober enough that they could safely walk you back to your flat. The three of you gathered your things and your excitement bubbled inside of you at the prospect of finally getting to see Fred. You nearly skipped out of the club, Alicia and Angelina trailing close behind you, and into the cool night air. Almost immediately, your eyes were drawn to two heads of red hair, backs to you, talking at the edge of the sidewalk. Although they were nearly identical, there was something about one of their postures and energy, and you just knew that it was Fred. Before Angelina or Alicia could stop you, you were running and jumping on your boyfriend’s back, nearly sending him tumbling over.

“Freddie!” You squealed, attaching your arms firmly around his middle as your feet replanted on the ground. He swiveled in your hold, a bout of laughter leaving his lips, as he took in your presence.

“’s good to see you too, love.” He slurred, bending down at a slightly awkward angle to pepper your face with kisses. You giggled at the tickling feeling his lips left behind.

“Thought we were meeting you guys back at her flat?” Angelina questioned as she approached the three of you.

“That was the plan, but Freddie here has had one too many glasses of firewhisky and decided he couldn’t wait that long.” George rolled his eyes. “Said he’d go with or without me to find you guys, so we’ve just been waiting out here.”

“Great, so they’re both drunk off their asses.” Alicia feigned annoyance, but the small smile on her face as she gazed at her two friends public displays of affection showed that she wasn’t truly bothered.

“Alright, love birds, it’s bloody freezing out.” George clapped a hand down on Fred’s shoulder, pulling the older twin’s attention away from you for the first time. “Let’s get going, yeah?”

Fred nodded and held out his hand for you to take, which you happily accepted. The two of you lead the others, swinging your hands between you as you walked down the sidewalk. The entire time, you whispered and giggled back and forth, finding anything and everything to be the funniest thing you ever heard.

“Your hand is so tiny.” Fred giggled, halting your swinging motion to bring your interlaced fingers up and examine them. 

“Is not.” You pouted. You attempted to pull your hand from his, but his grip on you was firm. He used your conjoined hands to pull you closer to him, causing you to stumble slightly, which of course resulted in both of you giggling even more. Fred placed a kiss on each of your knuckles before letting both of your hands fall comfortably between you again.

“It is, but it’s cute.” He looked down at you dreamily, as if you were the most perfect thing he had ever laid his eyes on. In an instant, all of his drunk giddiness seemed to fade and he became uncharacteristically serious. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Hm.” You pretended to ponder the question, bringing your free hand up to tap your chin. “Dunno. I still think you must have me under some spell or potion.”

“Oh, right, how could I forget?” He grinned. “That reminds me, I’ve gotta make another batch of love potion before this one wears off and you leave me.”

“Wouldn’t want that, would we?” You teased back, knocking your shoulder into his.

“Never.” And you could tell, he was serious.

Up ahead you could see the familiar outline of your building. You hadn’t realized just how tired your feet were from walking in your heels, and you longed for nothing more than to slip them off and lie in Fred’s arms for the rest of the night. Nerves began to bubble in your stomach the closer you got, because you knew that meant you were just another step closer to finally telling him. While you hadn’t faltered in your decision, as you began to sober up slightly, you couldn’t help but be anxious for how he would respond. 

“Do we need to help you two get in?” George questioned once you finally were outside your building.

“We’ll be okay.” Fred shook his head. You cuddled into his side for warmth, causing him to raise your entangled hands and wrap his arm around your shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, causing a dopey smile to rise onto your face.

“You’re sure?” Angelina looked between the two of you with raised brows. In response, you simply nodded. “Okay, well, call me tomorrow, alright?”

Both Alicia and Angelina sent you one last glance, one that you knew communicated how they didn’t encourage what you had told them earlier, before they all nodded and offered goodbyes, carrying on their way. Fred untangled your hands and removed his arm from your shoulder to open the door, dramatically bowing forward and extending an arm to allow you to enter first.

“After you, m’lady.”

You giggled loudly at his antics, skipping into the building and beginning towards the stairs. Fred  was hot on your heels, causing you to quicken your pace and run ahead of him, his laughter ringing out behind you as he tried to catch up to you.  Just as you turned on the first landing to continue up the steps, Fred’s hands caught your waist and began ticking your sides, causing your laughter to increase. You did your best to wriggle out of his grasp, which was much easier to do in his drunken state, and continued up the steps. Once on your floor, you quickly turned the corner and found the way to your flat, fumbling with your keys to get in before Fred caught up.

Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t seem to find the right key let alone slide it in to unlock the door, so Fred was able to catch up as you fumbled. You forgot your efforts and instead turned around and blocked the door, a drunken smirk on your face as you gazed up at your boyfriend.

“Sorry, you’re not allowed in.” You teased, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’re really going to leave your sweet, loving boyfriend out in the hall, after he went out of his way to safely walk you back from the club?” 

“Mhm.” You nodded. “That is, unless you can tell me the password.”

Fred pretended to think for a moment, before he swooped his head down and pressed your lips together in a kiss. It was clumsy, both of your mouths seeming just a bit off center, but it was clear that neither of you cared. You tangled your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible, as he pressed your back against the door. He pulled back first, leaving you in lovesick bliss.

“Did you kiss the fat lady like that every time you forgot the password?” You teased once you were able to find your voice.

“Only sometimes.” Fred teased back.

You rolled your eyes playfully before unwinding your hands from behind his head and finally, successfully unlocking your front door. You pulled Fred into the flat by his collar, dragging him all the way to your living room before dropping down onto the couch and shuffling to let him cuddle up behind you. 

For a few moments, you both laid tangled in each other’s arms, listening to nothing but his heartbeat. The sound was rhythmic, and you knew if you didn’t speak up soon you’d fall asleep any minute. But, you weren’t ready to fall asleep yet. You wanted to stay up, to talk to him, to tell him exactly what was on your mind. So, you shifted awkwardly and held yourself up on your forearms to gaze at him.

“‘m hungry.” You declared, your bottom lip jutting out into a pout as you put on your best puppy dog eyes.

“’s too late to order something.” Fred sighed. “Lemme go look at what you have in your fridge.”

You sat up to let him get up, resisting the urge to sigh at his absence. From the kitchen, you could hear the familiar clatter as he riffled through your pots and pans and opened and closed various cupboards. Somehow the sound was like the sweetest melody. It was like a soundtrack of pure bliss, a reminder that he was there, with you, and that you were happy. In the simplest terms.

You shifted to lay down on your back and stare up at your ceiling, breathing in what you could only describe as domestic bliss. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear him re-enter the room, your focus only being drawn away when the couch shifted from his weight. He lifted your legs to rest in his lap, his hand lightly rubbing up and down your ankle at a soothing rhythm.

“Got a quesadilla cooking.” He declared, his eyes tracing up and down your figure as you moved to sit up and look at him.

“Couldn’t stay away from me long enough to watch it?” You teased lightly.

“Can you blame me?” Fred grinned at you, giving your ankle a light squeeze.

You giggled at the contact before sitting up further, swinging your legs around to straddle his waist. You let your arms rest around his neck, a dopey smile on your face as you fiddled with the short hairs there. Fred leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against yours, causing you both to giggle further. 

“You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that?” Fred breathed out, bringing your foreheads to rest together. 

His words caused the familiar butterflies to erupt in your stomach, your smile widening even further. Some part of you knew this would be the perfect moment to tell him exactly how you felt. To tell him that your days are just a bit darker when he’s not around, and how he can make you laugh even when you want nothing more than to cry. You wanted to tell him how whenever he was gone on business trips, you could only fall asleep if you were wearing one of the old t-shirts he had left at your flat, or how you always seem to find something that made you think of him no matter where you were. But, your drunken brain was far from articulate, and your nerves seemed to have a firm grasp on your tongue, so instead, you simply pressed your lips to his.

Fred kissed you back passionately, and it was clear that neither of you minded that both of your mouths held the aftertastes of different alcohols. His lip glided along your bottom lip as his hands found your hips, steadying your movements. When you knocked your teeth together in the drunken kiss, you both pulled back for a moment to giggle, before the passion resumed.

Things seemed to carry on like that for several minutes, wanting nothing more than to be close to one another in every way possible, to be tangled up in anyway that you could, but having to pause every little bit to let out drunken giggles at the situation. You were certain no one had ever gotten you the way Fred Weasley got you, that no one could make you feel so comfortable, and that you were irrevocably in love with him.

Your sweet moment together was brought to a halt by the sound of a loud screeching coming from the kitchen. It took a moment for your brain to recognize it as the sound of your smoke alarm, but once it did you both were to your feet and rushing into the kitchen. Fred cursed under his breath at the clouds of smoke rising from the skillet and quickly set to turn off the burner. You grabbed a drying towel from the counter and began to wave it by the alarm, attempting to cease the godawful beeping it was letting out. After a few minutes, the sound did cease and the smoke cleared, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief.

“It’s burnt.” Fred pouted, lifting the skillet to show you the blackened quesadilla. 

You weren’t sure if it was the childlike expression on his face or the fact that you both had entirely forgotten about it in the first place, but you couldn’t help but erupt into a fit of laughter. Fred looked at you for a moment as if he were offended by your giggling, before turning his attention the burnt quesadilla, then back to you, and beginning to laugh as well. It was all so absurd and truthfully far from funny, but in that moment, nothing could make you laugh harder.

Fred slid the quesadilla in the garbage before placing the skillet in the sink, resigning to washing it later. In the meantime, you had grabbed the bag of shredded cheese and hoisted yourself up on the counter, swinging your legs as you scooped out a handful of the cheese and began to eat it.

Fred turned and smiled fondly at your actions, crossing the kitchen to settle himself between your legs. He opened his mouth and you wordlessly registered what he was requesting, leaning forward to drop some of the cheese into his mouth. Both of you continued to giggle lightly, feeling nothing but elation as you remained in each other’s presence. 

You raised your hand to offer Fred a bit more of the cheese, smiling warmly when he opened his mouth to accept some. The two of you weren’t as in sync as you might normally be, considering your varying levels of intoxication, and as you dropped some of the cheese onto his tongue you were too slow to remove your hand and he was too quick to bite down, causing him to nip your finger lightly.

You pulled your hand back hastily and Fred’s eyes widened as if he had just mortally wounded you. He swallowed the remaining cheese in his mouth before speaking up, taking your hand in his to examine it.

“Did I hurt you? Are you okay? Merlin, I am so sorry. Are you bleeding? You must be bleeding.”

You weren’t. 

His rambling and concern for you caused you to tilt your head back and let out a loud bout of laughter. 

“‘m fine, Freddie.” You assured, leaning forward to press your lips to his and squash his worries. 

Fred brought your hand to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the finger he had just bit, nodding to himself after as if to convince himself that now you were fine. Truly, it was just about the cutest thing you had ever seen.

You spent the next few moments polishing off the bag of shredded cheese, Fred abundantly more careful not to nip your fingers anymore. You chatted lightly, talking about every drunk thing that crossed your mind. Once the cheese was gone Fred poured the both of you a glass of water, sloshing it around slightly as he tried to balance them both in one hand and extend the other to you. You hopped down from the counter and accepted his hand, allowing him to guide you back to your bedroom. He spilled nearly half of each water on the way, mostly on himself, but neither of you could find it in you to care. 

Once inside, you threw yourself down into the center of your bed, extending your hands out in a grabbing motion as Fred set the glasses on your nightstand. Neither of you could be bothered to change into pajamas, so you settled by kicking off your shoes and doing your best to get comfortable in the dress you sported. 

Fred kicked off his shoes as well before crawling over to you and collapsing nearly entirely on you. He laid on his stomach and wound his arms around your waist, his head finding the crook of your neck and pressing a few soft kisses there. You wound your arms around his neck, your legs tangling together. Truthfully, it wasn’t exactly comfortable, but you had him close, and that was all that mattered.

You listened to the sound of his breathing as he slowly drifted off to sleep. Your mind was screaming at you to say the words that had been plaguing you almost all night, before it was too late. Now was your chance.

But, then, you noticed that Fred’s breathing had shallowed significantly and light snores had begun to leave his lips. You breathed out a sigh of disappointment from missing your opportunity, mentally cursing yourself and your nerves.

As if the sleeping boy in your arms could read your thoughts, his grip around you tightened, holding onto you as if his life depended on it. The small action brought a smile to your lips as your eyes fluttered shut.

Perhaps you could wait to tell him that you loved him until the morning. Besides, some part of you was aware that he already knew.

[pesewla]

Thank you for the request, @bout-to-snap <3 

“This is why I don’t trust him!” Mu Qing fumed. “He’s literally the Lord of the Ghost Realm, Your Highness…”

Xie Lian allowed a small, relaxed smile to grace his lips. He was mediating a fight between Mu Qing, Feng Xin, and Hua Cheng for what seemed like the thousandth time. Though newly renovated, Puqi Shrine was still too small for these massive quarrels, and Xie Lian dreaded the property damage that would ensue if their swords were drawn.

Given all that had happened – the destruction of the heavens and defeat of Jun Wu – why were these three still at each other’s throats?

“I thought we were past this,” Xie Lian sighed. “We don’t get to see each other all the time, so can we please not fight?”

“Exactly, we don’t see get to see each other all the time, so can’t we talk to you in private?” Feng Xin said, fidgeting a little.

Xie Lian looked confused. “About what?”

“You expect me to walk away when you’ve just called me the scum of the earth?” Hua Cheng said coolly, examining his nails. “Gege, these servants are no good.”

“We’re not his servants!” Mu Qing exclaimed. Xie Lian thought it sounded like he was about to say “anymore” at the end, but cut off his speech abruptly, making the outburst awkward and clunky.

“Are you sure?” Hua Cheng asked skeptically. “Because when you’re with him, it’s like 800 years never happened, you can be his ever-most-loyal-servants again. The roleplaying is disgusting, and doesn’t absolve you from guilt.”

Xie Lian sensed the atmosphere in the shrine shift. He stepped forward again and raised his hands placatingly. “San Lang – “

“And what would you know?” Feng Xin demanded. “You can’t possibly understand what we’ve been through, at the time you were merely a mortal child.”

“I understand that you abandoned Dianxia when he was most vuln –“

“San Lang,” Xie Lian said. Hua Cheng’s lips instantly froze at the warning in Xie Lian’s tone; it was a lilt and a dangerous flavor that Xie Lian hardly used on anyone, and never on Hua Cheng.

“…”

“Why can’t they know, gege?” Hua Cheng asked softly. “Don’t you think they deserve to know? Frankly, their ignorance offends me.”

Feng Xin and Mu Qing had fallen silent, too, their faces both a few shades lighter. The word abandon seemed to always have that effect on them. Then Feng Xin regained his voice. “Ignor – know what? Taizi Dianxia, just what…”

Xie Lian had folded his arms, his mouth drawn into a line. “It’s old history,” he sighed. “There’s no need to bring things like this up. Do not shame me.”

“Shame you? When that came to visit you, he dismissed your fears as insan –“

Hua Cheng’s voice cut off for a moment, and the temperature in Puqi Shrine seemed to drop. Because, at that moment, an expression entirely foreign to Xie Lian flitted across his face: rage. Neither Mu Qing nor Feng Xin had seen him make that expression since his third ascension, and it didn’t suit him well.

It was gone as soon as it arrived, and Xie Lian’s characteristically peaceful smile returned in its stead. However, the faces of his two ex-subordinates were already white as sheets. Hua Cheng stepped toward, placing a hand on Xie Lian’s shoulder as if to hold him up.

“Dianxia, are you mad… at us?” Feng Xin whispered.

Xie Lian looked at him strangely, as if he had asked a very bizarre question indeed. “No… Not you.”

Hua Cheng snorted, as if he was thinking, too bad. Xie Lian’s face was soft. “In any case, I’m quite tired, so I think I will retire for the night. Please make yourselves at home.”

“Wh – you can’t – after –“ Mu Qing sputtered.

Feng Xin’s eyes were round. “Dianxia, does that mean… That time with White No-Face, when we were on the run… Was it really…?”

Xie Lian had started towards his chambers, but after being addressed, his shoulders tightened infinitesimally. Then, he turned back to the trio, his face still serene. “Yes.”

As if he’d been punched in the gut, Feng Xin slouched over. Mu Qing looked baffled.

“I didn’t tell you this because I knew you’d blame yourself. Yet, in the end, the only one who sinned was me. So, please, do not inquire further into this matter.”

With a nod and another smile, Xie Lian vanished into the back room, anxious to escape the conversation.

Feng Xin and Mu Qing were bursting with indescribable emotion. Some small part of Feng Xin fumed at Xie Lian for leaving them without explaining, but the rest of him just wallowed in a torrent of guilt, doubt, and self-questioning.

If the Taizi Dianxia wouldn’t tell them the truth, who would? Xie Lian had been abandoned with only his parents, who were long dead, so who besides him even knew what happened? The only people must be Jun Wu himself, and –

“Don’t look at me,” Hua Cheng rolled his eyes, leaning lazily against a chair. “I’m not going behind gege’s back for some backstabbing servants.”

“You’re the one who said we deserve to know,” Mu Qing argued.

“So? It’s gege’s story to tell, and he said no, so no.”

“How do you even know?”

Hua Cheng shrugged. “I was just ghost fire at the time. I had to watch.”

The corners of his eyes tightened, and a murderous look crossed his face. Unlike Xie Lian, his malice wasn’t bottled away, but instead broadcast for all to see.

“Watch what?” Feng Xin cried in anguish. “Why must you torture us?”

Hua Cheng snickered. “If only you knew your own irony.”

With that, he straightened and glided in Xie Lian’s direction, back towards the sleeping chambers.

“We – we’ll be back tomorrow!” Feng Xin and Mu Qing shouted at his receding back. Hua Cheng shrugged again.

//

That night, Hua Cheng was holding Xie Lian in his arms, and casually said, “Gege, this is what you did with Lang Qianqiu, too.” It wasn’t an accusation – it was never an accusation, just a comment.

Xie Lian exhaled. “I know.”

Hua Cheng’s voice grew husky. “Isn’t it enough that you suffered alone then, why must you be alone now, too? Why must you save everyone secretly, then endure their collective ridicule?” Then, “Is keeping it a secret truly doing anyone good?”

Xie Lian was silent. “Maybe I don’t have a good reason,” he finally said. “I don’t like thinking about it, really. I’m weak.”

“…”

“Although, looking back on it, I can’t believe that cute little ghost fire was you,” Xie Lian laughed. “You’d barely popped up and you already had a little cult following, so adorable!”

Hua Cheng grinned, but it was pained, like he couldn’t remember that period of his existence without discomfort. He said nothing, but his grip around Xie Lian tightened, like he was afraid of letting go.

Xie Lian noticed, and, after a beat of silence, shut his eyes. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

//

Feng Xin and Mu Qing would not give up. Day after day, they visited Xie Lian, demanding answers, so after months of heckling, Xie Lian finally agreed to explain what had happened all those years ago. When Xie Lian, Hua Cheng, Feng Xin, and Mu Qing sat down in Paradise Manor, Hua Cheng started talking first, trying to alleviate Xie Lian’s burden.

“…He’d wailed and screamed and cried and begged for mercy, but the people, having deemed him a sinner, continued without hesitation. Of course, his sinfulness was merely an excuse to save their own skin…”

“…After one hundred fatal strikes, Dianxia laid on his own altar, disfigured beyond recognition. Nothing more than a pile of flesh.”

Feng Xin was not the type to cry. So, when his eyes grew wet and then started streaming, Xie Lian hurriedly waved off Hua Cheng’s stone-faced words.

“Feng Xin, this was hundreds of years ago,” Xie Lian assured him, patting his shoulder. “It’s not sad anymore. Also, I’ve endured worse since then.”

This aggravated Feng Xin even further, and he looked like he wanted to cry some more. “I just can’t… when I imagine it, I can’t help it…”

“Trust me, whatever you’re imagining, it was five million times worse in real time,” Hua Cheng muttered darkly. He stared at Xie Lian with an odd expression, before languidly pulling him into his embrace.

Feng Xin looked like he wanted to rebuke, but in the end, could not. Thus, he motioned for the story to continue.

Xie Lian skimmed over his recovery period, the reformation of his flesh, and Feng Xin’s departure, but before he was in the clear, he was interrupted.

“So that’s why you asked me to leave?” Feng Xin said incredulously.

“There was no need to pull you down with me,” Xie Lian murmured.

“I thought you’d gone insane,” Feng Xin mumbled, nauseated. “I told your mother and father… I left you…”

Describing what happened to his parents was even harder, and when he finally got to saying how he’d put his own head in the noose, eyes filling with blood and collarbone cracking, Mu Qing jumped up.

“DAMN IT,” he roared, picking up a glass and shattering it against the nearest wall. “Damn it, damn it, damn it, Dianxia! What the actual fuck?”

Xie Lian peered at him. “Please don’t break San Lang’s things,” he tried.

“WHAT DO I FUCKING CARE? FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, TAIZI DIANXIA, HOW COULD YOU KEEP SOMETHING LIKE THIS FROM US?” Mu Qing was panting, and Feng Xin was staring off into space, eyes empty. “WE COULD’VE HELPED! IF I’D HAVE KNOWN, I’D HAVE –“

“Come back?” Xie Lian questioned lightly. “Followed me until the end?”

There was a deafening silence.

“No… I wanted you both to break free,” Xie Lian said. “You had a future.”

“SO DID YOU!” Feng Xin cried, broken from his trance. “Why… why did all this… why must it happen to you?”

“For that, I have no answer,” Xie Lian said. “But, if it had to happen to anyone, I’m glad it happened to me.”

Feng Xin and Mu Qing looked like they’d been shattered into a million pieces. Xie Lian said ruefully, “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Mu Qing rushed forward. “GODDAMN IT, THE FACT THAT I DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT IT IS EVEN WORSE! WHY DIDN’T YOU ASK FOR HELP? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO USE US, RELY ON US, THAT WAS OUR FUCKING JOB AND WE…”

“At the time, you were ganging up with Middle Court lackeys to chase him out of spiritual lands,” Hua Cheng remarked icily, pulling Xie Lian closer to him.

Mu Qing appeared stupefied, like Hua Cheng had just slapped him. “San Lang!” Xie Lian admonished. Mu Qing sat back down.

Both Feng Xin and Mu Qing both looked like they wanted to protest more, but Xie Lian continued with the story before they could. When he described donning the white mask and preparing to unleash the Human Face Disease, both of them seemed to hold their breath. Hua Cheng described his rebirth as a ghost soldier, following Xie Lian’s commands but never believing that he would truly commit the atrocity.

Feng Xin was regarding him with something that almost looked like newfound respect, but Mu Qing turned his head.

The rest was all downhill from there. He described laying on the pavement for days on end, and the one farmer who’d salvaged his faith in human goodness.

“To anyone else, thousands of onlookers ignoring your pain and suffering before one did anything shouldn’t reinforce your faith in anything…” Mu Qing muttered.

Xie Lian pressed forward, practically sprinting through the unleashed Human Face Disease, taking the brunt of the curses, and then Hua Cheng dying for him for the second time. He talked about ascending into heaven, and asking Jun Wu to punish him for his wrongdoings using banishment and cursed shckles.

“…DIANXIA?!?” Feng Xin gasped. “IT WASN’T A MURDEROUS RAMPAGE?”

“Nope!” Xie Lian said cheerily, relief crossing his face as if he was pleased to be done talking.

Mu Qing’s face darkened, and he started swearing again. “I WAS FUCKING WONDERING HOW SOMEONE AS TALENTED AS YOU SPENDS 800 YEARS TRYING TO ASCEND, IT WAS ON FUCKING PURPOSE? FUCKING FUCK, I WANT TO STRANGLE SOMETHING! SOMEONE GIVE ME SOMETHING TO BREAK!” He clomped off in a random direction.

Feng Xin’s face looked shadowed over, too. “Here I was wondering how you suddenly had such bad luck. As Crown Prince, you’d never had something so egregious. Now, learning that you asked for it… it all makes sense.” His hands were clenched into tight fists, and his words turned into cries. “Why… why… why… for 800 years, we felt… we waited, we were waiting, for something, and we thought maybe you’d died, or gone crazy, or vanished… We…”

Xie Lian had approached him, and put both hands on his shoulders. It was an old, but familiar gesture, and Feng Xin’s heart immediately squeezed with pain and regret. He was at a loss for words, and everything seemed wretched.

“Feng Xin, I understand your anguish,” Xie Lian said softly. “But I became very close to becoming that thing which I swore to destroy. And, to be honest, at that point I didn’t care much for godhood. I lost everything because of godhood. What I couldn’t stand to lose was myself, not to that monster, not to anyone. So, please understand. I’m sorry I hurt you, but it was necessary.”

“WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO FUCKING GOOD?” Mu Qing roared, coming to stand next to Feng Xin. “WHY CAN’T YOU EVER BE SELFISH?”

Xie Lian chuckled, and Mu Qing covered his mouth, as if the words had escaped by their own volition. “…I wasn’t being good, I was scared.”

Mu Qing swore more. Feng Xin, on the other hand, fell to his knees, his shoulders trembling. So, Xie Lian acted on impulse, pulling Mu Qing down to the ground, too. Xie Lian then wrapped one arm around Feng Xin, and the other around Mu Qing, enveloping the both of them in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” Xie Lian murmured again, trying to control their trembling. He couldn’t tell, at this point, if it was only Feng Xin, or if it was Mu Qing too.

“We failed. I failed,” Feng Xin said, and his voice was raw with agony. “Why are you apologizing?”

“It wasn’t fair to either of you… but I loved you very much, and it was like you were shackled to a man descending to the bottom of a lagoon. If I didn’t remove your chains, you would’ve drowned too.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, holy shit, I’m so sorry,” Feng Xin said, almost gasping through the words. He looked as though someone had drawn a sword across his Adam’s apple, and he was choking through the blood. “Taizi Dianxia, I’m sorry. I failed.”

“Don’t be so damn self-sacrificing, Your Highness.” It was Mu Qing, this time, and he wasn’t struggling against the embrace. “Every single fucking time. Disgusting. How can we even stop you? Something like this. Damnit.”

“I’m a bit tougher than I look,” Xie Lian assured him. “Drowning is no big deal. Pain will subside. Embarrassment will fade. And look, I’m very happy now.”

From somewhere far away, Hua Cheng laughed slightly. However, even Mu Qing and Feng Xin, who weren’t well acquainted with him, could hear that it was laced with pain, too.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to stay with you,” Feng Xin said. “I wanted to stay, I trusted you unequivocally, you’re my world. But it scared me…”

Xie Lian smiled. “I know. You didn’t have to say anything. Ever since you came to help me at Yu Jun Mountain, I’ve known. And I’m grateful.”

“Stop being so damn forgiving.” Mu Qing’s voice was muffled by Xie Lian’s robes.

“Why? I forgive you.” Mu Qing and Feng Xin seemed to collapse in on themselves. So Xie Lian repeated, “I forgive you.”

No one moved for a long time. The trembling intensified. “You’re so damn forgiving,” Mu Qing mumbled. “It doesn’t mean a thing…”

And yet, they were not willing to break away.

Even after 800 years, Mu Qing and Feng Xin didn’t think that they would ever get used to being dazzled by the Crown Prince.

[dreamescapeswriting]

This Summer ~ KSJ [Request]

WORD COUNT: 3.3K

PAIRING: Seokjin x GN!Reader

GENRE: Fluffy, age gap, happy ending, first kiss, first date, cute

This summer was just supposed to be like all of the others that you'd had in Seoul, every summer since you were 18 you'd been coming to South Korea to visit your old Nanny - Areum. She'd moved back to Seoul once she no longer had to care for you but you'd grown attached to her, she'd helped raise you so it was normal to grow an attachment to someone you loved. 

"How was your flight?" She questioned, wrapping her arms around your body as though you were her grandchild and giving you a tight squeeze. 

"Long, I missed you," You told her as she began to try and carry your bags, not that you would ever allow her. She was getting far too old to care for you it should have been the other way around now which was why you were attempting to move to Korea to become her full-time carer. She didn't have much family and you wanted to make sure she wasn't going to strain herself too much. Being 21 now meant that you could legally make large decisions like this one for yourself and moving to Korea had been one of your biggest dreams in life.

"I missed you too, how long are you staying this time?" You hadn't told her about your plan to move to Korea just in case that never happened, it was all about getting the paper worked approved by people and so far everything was going well. Normally when you would come for the summer it would be two or three weeks at the most, this time you hadn't booked a returning flight just in case.

"I'm not sure," You lied as you began walking through the airport together, telling her about your flight and layover that had happened, giving her gossip on the people on your flight. She was always an avid one for gossip ever since you were in High school. She would always sit with you in the kitchen while you did your homework or had something to eat, listening to you talk about what was happening in the school halls.

"I hope you don't mind but a friend of mine is driving us back, I think I mentioned him in our emails," You thought back on all of the emails you'd been exchanging recently and nodded your head. Jin. She said he'd been visiting her cafe a lot and that they'd grown a bond just like yours and hers over a short amount of time. It was nice to hear that it wasn't just you that seemed to get along well with Areum, she was one of the kindest people in the world and everyone seemed to love her. 

"That's fine, I remember him, Jin right?" You remembered she mentioned that he sang a lot but not much else. Only that when he came into the store business began picking up and she put it down to how handsome he was, everyone seemed to want to get a close look at him, some of them even taking photos with him which seemed odd to her. 

"Yes! He said he would give me a ride since I lost my licence and I told him how I didn't want you catching a ride home alone with some strange taxi driver," You frowned at the mention of her losing her licence she hadn't told you that in any emails and it only made you worry that something bad had happened she had neglected to tell you about.

"What happened?" She rolled her eyes at the question as if she was sick of answering it, 

"My eyes, they're not deemed for the road," She mumbled as though she didn't believe it but you did, you knew how terrible her eyesight had been all of these years but she'd had glasses for a long time.  

"They're as good as they've ever been-" She stopped when you pulled her back to prevent her from getting hit by one of the small transit vans that roamed the airport. 

"Maybe not," She grumbled, thanking you for saving her while you laughed softly. You were glad you'd come when things seemed to be going okay for her and that you could look after her properly. 

"I locked up the cafe for the afternoon, I thought we could order some food and then you can get some rest. I know jetlag can get to you a little," It sounded as though it would be the perfect evening after the 14-hour flight you'd had and you nodded in agreement with her, eager to see the Cafe you were used to working in every summer with her. It was one of the cutest cafe's you'd had the pleasure of working in. A small two-floor cafe with an open roof. The top floor was half balcony, perfect in the summer when you wanted to sit and have a nice drink while watching the people of Seoul. 

"Sounds like the best idea," You smiled, humming at the food ideas she was throwing at you, telling you everything she had planned for your visit. Honestly, you were just excited to eat anything that wasn't your home food. You loved Korean food and she knew that which was why whenever you came she tried to cook as much as she could for you. Creating her own mochi, Kimchi and making sure the fridges were always stocked with food for you to eat whenever you wanted to. 

"I'll cook us something tomorrow. Jin will be joining us tomorrow night," You nodded and followed her out and over to a black SUV that was waiting for you in a parking spot, the door opened and a guy jumped out from the seat.

"Hey, you must be Y/n." You looked up at the guy that had jumped out of the car and noticed that he was wearing sunglasses and a mask so you couldn't tell if he was as handsome as Areum had mentioned but you nodded your head at him.

"Jin?" You questioned, sticking out your hand for him to shake. He shook your hand and helped you load your bags into the back of the car while Areum smiled to herself from inside of the car, looking at you in the mirror as the both of you interacted with one another.

"She was your nanny, right? She's told me so many stories." You felt your body heat up at the thought of her telling him horror stories from when you were growing up. She had so many to choose from, not all of them as horrible you maybe thought they were but Areum loved to embarrass you. 

"Nothing bad, don't worry. All good things," He chuckled as he shut the boot of his car, pulling down the sunglasses to the tip of his nose to wink at your playfully. Your heart stopped beating for a second as you realised who he was and why he was in a brand new car, hiding his identity.  

"I have seen some baby photos too, she loves you." You remembered all of the photographs she had of you and you whined at the thought of it, 

"I loved the video of you dancing around the kitchen when you were eight, so cute." You ignored him as he continued to playfully tease you until you got into the car trying to calm down as you realised the Jin that Areum had been telling you about in her emails was Kim Seokjin from BTS. One of the bands you'd loved listening to when you were growing up, not to mention how you'd learnt a lot of your Korean from both the boys and Areum. Had she no idea he was Jin from BTS?  

After Jimin helped you and Areum into the apartment next to the cafe he left to go home, saying he had something to do but that he would be back to see you both tomorrow. 

"I told you he was handsome," She chuckled at you as she came up behind you to see you were looking at images of him on your phone, you didn't know if you were supposed to tell her or if you were supposed to tell him that you knew. 

"Very," You laughed softly, locking your phone and joining her in the living room for the food she'd ordered for the two of you. There was enough there to feed you both five times over so you knew you would be taking some to the cafe for lunch the next day.

A couple of weeks after working in the cafe you and Jin had grown a close friendship with one another, you'd told him you knew who he was but that you would keep it secret from Areum who seemed to be clueless on the fact and he thanked you for it. Telling you that he enjoyed going to the cafe as it was only small and very few people knew who he was and if they did, it never got out that he was there. 

"You put too much rice on, watch," Jin chuckled as he came up behind you, the two of you were making Kimbap in the kitchen together. Trying to put together a nice picnic lunch for later that day with Areum. Jin wrapped his arms around you from behind and made sure you were watching him as he created the perfect wrap, taking your hands in his as he rolled the seaweed and got you to cut it with him. 

"See, now it's not falling apart." You nodded anxiously at him as you looked up at him, both of you staring at one another in silence. Over the course of getting to know one another, you'd grown close with him, closer than you could ever imagine being with someone like him. Someone famous that was. 

"You're an excellent teacher," You whispered as he continued to stare down at you, the room falling into a comfortable silence. Jin looked at you as he thought about leaning down and kissing you, his heart pounding as he looked at your lips and then to your eyes. Over the time of getting to know you, he'd gotten attached to you, realising there was something more between you than just your casual friendship between two people but there was one problem. Besides him being who he was, you were seven years younger than him and sure Age was just a number but it was different to him. All he could think about was that when he was 17, you would have been 10 and so on and so forth. All of the different ages seemed to wrong even if it was just a short period of time apart. You were both legally adults now he shouldn't have anything to fear.

"I-I should go, I'm meeting the boys at the studio," He moved away from you, scratching the base of his neck awkwardly as he tried not to overthink the almost kiss.

"Yeah, sure." You watched him leaving as you bit down on your lip, you felt so strongly to him but you were trying to ignore the feelings you got whenever you were around him. There was too much of an age difference between the two of you, not to mention that he was Kim Seokjin, Mr Wolrdwide handsome. You felt as though you didn't stand a chance as you fell for him but it didn't stop your heart from racing whenever he was around you, your heart from thumping whenever he texts you or spoke to you. It was like he had some kind of unspoken advantage over you as if he could control your body without even realizing it, 

"I know that look," Areum said as she came into the back, putting trays into the dishwasher as she watched you closely smirking as she realised her plan was going well. She had known you long enough to know who was right for you and after getting to know Jin on a deeper level he was perfect for you. 

"What look?" You laughed it off, trying to act as though you didn't know what she was talking about but she cupped your face in her hands, 

"You're forgetting I helped raise you...I know what that look is and that look is you hooked on a boy," She ran her thumb along your cheek bone, smiling to herself as your cheeks began to physically heat up against her skin. 

"N-No! That's- Why would I- I don't even know him," You tried to get out but you stumbled over your words further proving to her that you had in fact, had a crush on Jin but it was stupid. There was nothing that could be done about it since he was famous and you were nobody in comparison. 

"It's not as if he would like me back," You mumbled only to get hit around the back of the head by a tray that Areum had picked up, 

"Don't feel sorry for yourself! Why wouldn't he like you back?!" Areum began to rant about all of the things she seemed to like about you, telling you all of your amazing qualities but telling you some of your bad ones so you didn't become too humble over them.

"But you've seen him, you've been around him, there is no way he would like me back." You sighed to yourself at the mere thought of Jin feeling the same way you felt for him. There wasn't a chance. 

As time passed you got approved for your stay in Korea, explaining that Areum that you would like to live with her until you can find a suitable apartment not that she would let you. Telling you that you would live with her if she was the main reason for you moving to Korea. 

"Areum?" You called out as you headed into the cafe late one night, she'd sent you a cryptic message asking you for your help in the cafe when it was way past closing time and pitch black inside the cafe. 

"If this is a joke I might move back home," You laughed as you walked further into the cafe looking around with your phone flashlight. 

"What are you doing?!" A voice asked out of no where making you scream out in surprise and jump as you spotted Jin staring at you from behind the counter. 

"Looking for Areum! What are you doing here?!" You yelled, holding your hand on your chest trying to calm your heart rate down but it wasn't working. 

"Looking for Areum, she sent me-"

"A text, telling you she needed help?" You asked as you showed him the same exact text message that he had from her only to hear the door to the cafe shut and lock before looking to see Areum staring at you through the glass pannel. 

"She's crafty," Jin laughed before Areum walked away without saying or doing anything as to let you know when you were going to be allowed out. You knew what she was doing, she'd told you she had a plan to get you and Jin alone together for a while but then nothing happened. You assumed she'd forgotten all about it and moved on with things but looking back on it now you were wrong. 

"Here, look-" Jin pulled you towards the back of the cafe to look into the kitchen, there was a picnic blanket laid out on the floor with some candles and fairy lights sitting around it. The old lady had conned you into going on a date with Jin, you looked up at him anxiously wondering if he had any idea what was going out but if he did he was doing well to hide it.

"Come on, she obviously wanted us to enjoy the food together," He nudged, taking your hand and walking through the door. The feeling of his hand on yours made your heart skip as you realised he was holding you so close to him and Jin smiled to himself enjoying the feeling of holding you. He'd been overthinking everything so much about you lately, telling Areum how much he cared for you but that he was worried for anything to happen between you. He didn't want something to happen between the two of you only for it to go sour and end his friendship with Areum but she told him how much of an idiot he was being and gave him a speech about how perfect you would be for one another. He never would have thought she'd do something like this in order for the two of you to come together one night. 

"She made our favourites," He chuckled setting you down on the blanket next to him as he looked into the basket, spotting each of your favourite foods, including Kimbap which you remembered making with him.

"Tell me about what she was like when she used to care for you, she tells me stories all of the time but I want to hear them from you," He said as he poured you both a glass of wine then a shot of Soju, looking at you as you thought back on all of the wonderful memories you had with Areum. 

"She took me to the fair once but I didn't tell her how scared of heights I was until we were at the top of a Ferris wheel and she gave me this large speech...By the end of it I realised she was just talking nonsense so I wouldn't look down at how high we were," You smiled at the memory, 

"Then there was this time I liked someone and I didn't think they would like me back...I told her about it and she went on this large rant - after hitting me with a tray - about how great I was and how I shouldn't let something hold the feelings back no matter what it was," That was when it hit Jin. That you liked him the same way that he liked you and that you had both gone to Areum for advice on the matter. 

"I did the same thing. There's this person that I like, they're one of the sweetest people in the world but there's an issue...It seems insignificant now," Your heart fell at the mention of him liking someone else but you nodded along with him, trying to stay happy for him as much as you could since you didn't own him and he had no idea how you felt for him. 

"There's an age gap before it was weighing me down, stopping me from asking them out on a date but Areum did the unthinkable...Created a set up for us both to come on a date without realising it was a date," Your heart began to pump faster as you realised he was talking about the both of you, looking at him and smiling brightly.

"I didn't want to ask you out, I was afraid the age thing might freak you out and then I didn't know if you were heading home soon...As soon as you said you were moving to Korea it was another sign I should have asked you out," His ears were turning red as was his face as he admitted all of this to you, 

"I'll ask you out on a real date...Somewhere we can be alone and not recorded on the CCTV by your boss," He chuckled as he moved closer to you, 

"I'd like that," You whispered back to him, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the lips before drinking from your glass.

Areum smiled to herself as she looked at you both through the screen, knowing that her match making skills were still being put to good use even in her old age.

A/N: I’m not great at the whole slow burn thing but I am working on it I promise guys!Tagline: @taestannie​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @rjsmochii​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @innersooya​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @that-anxious-bisexual​ @mwitsmejk​

[little-nightmare-gt]

Finding Family

Probably the one and only SMP Minecraft fic I'll make.... probably. Join us with Tommy and Tubbo, two borrowers living out in the wilds. Borrowers, Fae etc. Creatures are rare and sought after by wealthy people. Giants (Humans and some Hybrids) are considered monsters to borrowers, and often feared. Comms are a thing for everyone. @baka-monarch you wanted to be tagged.

Warning: Abandonment, blood, implied burning, growth in small areas, near death experience, near crushed experience, Technoblade.

Tommy and Tubbo weren't bad kids, they were young with no parents. They were taught the rules by strangers who abandoned them the moment they could borrow.

They were born in captivity and sold to a rich child with a fascination with hurting things, if by Tommy's missing wings and Tubbo's scared face had anything to do with it.

People didn't stay with them for long.

Tommy was always too loud and Tubbo too easy, and they only stuck together.

They were a bit upset at being alone but both deemed to not need anyone else.

The two decided to leave and find another place to live, somewhere not many monsters dare to go. The Artic.

Tubbo built their first house, near a tree close but not part of the forest. Tommy began the underground gardening system which Tubbo ended up making it automatic, but continued to make touches and railroad tracks into caves and mines.

They hunted rabbits in the area for meat, and often take from the near by village.

One day though, Tubbo noticed an abandoned cottage near the village and quickly messaged Tommy about it, who immediately agreed to scoping it out for a hideout.

After gathering their supplies for the day, they went to explore the cottage.

There was a small enough crack in the door frame the the two borrowers to slip into. They froze at the large still warm room.

It wasn't dusty, so it couldn't be more than a few days that someone had been there. Tommy was a bit confused about it seeing as he would have noticed someone pass through here.

Tubbo pointed out that they lived near a forest and most people avoid them, but froze at the sound of a clatter.

Tubbo, with the better ears could hear aggressive whispering, "Someone is in my house Phil, the door didn't open, where are they?"

Tubbo nodded to his friend and pulled him closer to the counter and skimmed closer to the wall, taking out his hook, he and Tommy climbed up the counter at his urging.

Tommy made it first seeing three of their kind, "Sup Bitches!"

Tubbo made it up in time to see three grown men jump in fear, examining each one as Tommy talked.

The tallest looked to be a piglin Hybrid, the smaller usually stay in the Nether where their known about and treated equally. He wore a surprisingly nice long sleeve blue shirt and cloak.

The next looked human but his features suggest he's a piglin as well...just more human looking. He wore a similar cloak and shirt and the tall one.

The final man was shorter than Tommy, he had wings which was surprising in itself. That he still kept them after all, he wore a similar shirt but instead of a cloak he was a ponch and a bucket hat. What startled Tubbo, was that he seemed to be studying them like he was them.

There eyes met briefly as Tommy waved his arm in front of him sounding heated, causing him to tone in.

"I'm calling as I see it! The old man's gonna get it if he doesn't stop staring at my friend!"

"For someone so small, why are you so loud? Don't call us pets!" The middle one growled out.

"Where's the monster of this place anyway, we've never noticed anyone coming to and from here." Tubbo interrupted.

He watched the tallest flinch as the shortest puffed up angrily ready to defend their owner when Tommy interrupted, "Tubs, they could be one of those people."

Tubbo flinched, and looked at the older men, "Surely Not, Big Man, something is off about them but we can leave if you want."

"What! After you insult us! What kinds of people!?"

"Monster apologists, their pets who do anything for their Master. Even capture more of our kind, we've been here to long, let's go." Tommy led the way, leaving the shocked men on their counter top.

Tubbo stares at them, "Do you not have a rope to climb down? I didn't see and ledges and stuff to move around on."

The shortest still glared but it soften a bit, "I can get us down, where do you live? Can we visit?"

Tubbo looked down at Tommy as his friend shook his head no, "We'll visit you."

The kid jumped, catching the rope instead of plummeting to his doom. The three men looked over the ledge with eyes in shock as Tubbo pulled his hook down.

Tommy grinned up, "Have fun with your Monster folks!"

His friend yanked him along as the middle one made offended noises, something not sitting right as they squeezed through the door and made their way home.

"Tommy, I think they were in captivity. They didn't know how to react to us and two of them were piglin Hybrids, they probably got sold."

"Poor blokes, we'll visit them tomorrow, I'll apologize to them too." He didn't want to, but even he was a victim of only knowing monsters.

Tubbo began to start dinner, it becoming darker and darker outside.

========

The snow beginning to pick up, Tommy was working on his stone sword when someone knocked on the door.

Tubbo had a hunch on who it was.

He was correct when three familiar faces were shown shocked at the sight of them, "If you're coming in, please hurry."

Tommy shut the door with a knowing look as the grown men inspected their home, "So you two live alone? How old are you seven?"

Tubbo could hear the concern but Tommy huffed, "We are fifteen thank you very much! What about you old people? Huh? Ancient?"

"Well let's introduce ourselves huh? I'm Wilbur, I'm the very charismatic of the bunch. My brother here is Technoblade, he's the fighter. Here's the old man, Philza or Phil."

Tubbo can just feel Tommy roll his eyes, "I'm Tommy the handsomest in the whole land and the biggest man, and over there is Tubbo, he is my best friend and brother. Wilbur, your names shit, I hope you know that."

Tubbo continued to say nothing as he finished making dinner and Tommy continued, "So, how did you end up in a mon-"

"Before you finish that sentence, Mate? What monster and why do you call him that?" The newly dubbed Phil asked.

Tubbo answered as he approached, "That's what our kind call big folk, you know, giants? Human and Hybrids? They're monsters, all of them."

Wilbur narrowed his eyes, "How about size shifters? Reckoned they're good."

Tommy tilted his head, "Haven't met one that wanted to shrink to our size, seen a few go Titanic but they tried to kill everyone."

Tubbo might have been the only one to see the oldest man frown a bit before smiling, "How about you two show us how to survive, like without the big folk."

Tommy caught on to the fact he didn't say Monster but said nothing, "Don't know, you three are pets-"

"We are not pets!" Technoblade finally spoke, his eyes peering down at Tommy and him being unfazed.

Tubbo sighed, he honestly didn't know what to think about the implications he was getting but no harm in being prepared, to bad this was the last time he'd think on it.

For a moment, the other teen seem to contemplate it.

Tommy's face finally grew Stony, "Nope, you're better off as pets or being self taught. You can spend the night but leave after."

Unfortunately, years of being abandoned is still a fresh wound.

Wilbur tried reasoning, "You're the only ones we've met like us! We've no idea how to do things on our own! Also if we run away-"

"You'll lead your monster straight to us and get us all caught, I'm not risking our lives like that." It was rare that Tommy put his foot down, but even rarer for Tubbo to object.

"If we don't, they could still tell their Monster where we are." Tommy looked shocked but resigned.

Technoblade looking a bit uncomfortable before speaking again, "He wouldn't bother you even if he did know."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Riiiight."

====An image of drawn on wings appears on Tommy's back and tears on Tubbo's face.====

It started off slow, teaching basics of climbing and mending clothes first. Technoblade was great at mending, nearly on par with Tubbo. And he and Wilbur both Excell at climbing. Philza was actually on par with Tubbo for mending and pretty decent at climbing without rope, though he had wings he referred to it as handicapping himself.

They were decent in keeping up with Tommy and Tubbo themselves, but the two found that they were better fighters.

Now the teens needed fighting lessons, though the sneaking and stealing was the difficult part.

It's kinda insulting for these grown men to ask for help and not need it, and Tommy let them know.

They were sheepish as Tubbo led Techno to the farm, they bonded over the automatic farm he and Tommy created. Technoblade suggested and easier way to do it but Tubbo shook his head sadly.

"Mobs love going after our kind, not Endermen, even when we look them in the eye. But other mobs will Hunt us down. We try not to dig that deep, and avoid getting Iron ores...not that we can use them." Understanding reached the older Hybrid's eyes as Tubbo led him away.

It had been two weeks after that conversation that Tubbo finally let them see his horns, rubbing at them as they matured and needed a day.

Philza remain with him as Tommy took Techno and Wilbur hunting with him.

The elder man asking the hard questions as he made the child some tea, "Tell me, how did you get your...wounds."

Tubbo flinched and backed away from Phil before taking a deep breath, "Tommy and I...we were born and raised in captivity, we got sold to be a child's pets. They hurt Tommy so bad, then they tried to set me on fire with a torch...their mother stopped them before they touched me. But they believed me and Tommy were too...broken. so we were thrown out.

"More of our kind found us, but after teaching us what we know they left us. It's why we live outside instead of in the walls of a Monster's house...Tommy was too loud and I was too dumb to leave him."

Phil looked on the verge of tears, "You're not dumb, you're pretty wise for your age."

Before dozing off Tubbo managed to speak again, "No choice when you and yer friend are alone."

In the month, Tommy managed to let slip that he used to have wings and broke down in Tubbo's arms as the adults looked on in horror.

A child, ripping off his wings just because he asked them for an hour of rest. Then proceeded to play with said wings, nobody said anything as Phil flutted his own wings and occasionally covered the two children like a shield.

====The Next Month====

Tubbo laughed as Wilbur and Tommy shouted at each other about the best way to hunt. Phil would disappear once a week before returning with soft material for clothes, but Technoblade.

Technoblade was acting peculiar and even Tommy noticed, the two would ask if he were okay but he would nod and shoo them off.

The piglin Hybrid had been looking uncomfortable for the past few days, Phil and Wilbur seem to be waiting for something while Tubbo tried everything in his power to make him comfortable.

Tommy was concerned, not that he would show but got the material for Tubbo's gift to the older men.

For Philza, Tubbo made another ornament for his hat, a bee and raccoon.

For Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo managed to have enough redstone for a music room. Tommy himself listen to Will play the most.

Tubbo was nervous about his gift to Techno, as Tommy gifted him a stone axe with self made design.

Tubbo, still focused on the Hybrid's discomfort, made his a pillow that looked like a ravanger. He gave a toothy grin and hugged the kid, keeping it close as he dozed off.

Tubbo will deny his tail ever wagging.

It wasn't until the next morning things made sense and seemed...bad.

Tubbo's horns hurt as Techno himself grunted in his discomfort, so they couldn't get things done.

Wilbur and Tommy got into another argument but this time about borrowing iron from the village which Phil helped Wilbur understand why not.

They were due for another hunting trip but with Technoblade and Tubbo out of commission, Phil had to go with them despite not wanting to leave the two.

Technoblade decided to stay on the couch instead of his newly added room and Tubbo remained near in case neither could handle the stairs.

When Tubbo blinked awake, it was to the noise of rushing wind and screams.

The ground shook under him as the house quaked, Pillagers

Tubbo quickly crawled over to Techno, too dizzy to stand and a shock went through his body.

The piglin Hybrid was much larger than their little couch that he slept on, Tubbo could place two hands on the older Hybrid's face and attempted to awake him.

"T..ech..no, we need to move, please wake up." Just as Tubbo stuttered that out, a booted foot came through the borrower's home, a pained and fearful cry escaped him as he missed a single red eye open.

Something wrapped around his waist, startling him as he looked up fearful at Techno.

The Hybrid looked pained as he began to expand higher through the ceiling, Tubbo watched in horrified fascination as the hand he was in curled closer to an eye.

"Tubbo, you know me, you know I'd never hurt you. Please hold on to me, I don't want you getting hurt." Tubbo's body went on autopilot as the hand was brought closer to the mon- the neck of Technoblade.

Tubbo held on as the body finally broke through the house, shielding him from danger.

A gleam brought Tubbo to attention, a light blue axe appeared in the giant's hand shimmering with unspoken enchantments. Tubbo had only heard of diamonds before, he was not disappointed.

Technoblade slashed through all his enemies, all the while keeping an eye and ear on Tubbo.

The beat of large wings alerted Tubbo to another person, Philza. The oldest coming from the air like an Angel of Death.

Tubbo could make out two people against his own throat, Tommy and Wilbur.

Unfortunately Phil didn't catch sight of him and the borrower was being grabbed in a tight fist, "Come on Mate! You're not prepared enough for this."

Technoblade's ear twitched and the scared pain Yelp, "Philza! Let go! You have Tubbo!"

The crushing weight was immediately gone as the kid took deep breaths barely hearing Techno's instructions, "Tubbo, I'm going to have to fight my way through. Hold on the best you can."

As that was said, the older hybrid began to lurch forward. Tubbo caught glimpses of Phil fighting alongside, but his focus was on not falling.

Not being ripped away wasn't part of this, a small glowing Fae creature tackled Tubbo and flew him away.

========

Tommy watched as his best friend got carried away by a Vex, "TUBBO!"

Wilbur flinched at the volume and Phil slightly stiffen but didn't falter in his fighting, Technoblade visibly looked around when it happened.

The small army was thinning down as the two watched out for the vex with the ram Hybrid, carefully taking out other vexes that went for Tommy or Wilbur.

Techno knew there was one left as bodies turned to emeralds, but the snow began to become blinding and Tubbo's scent getting fainter.

Phil had to physically drag him to the cabin, Wilbur had grew to his full size and started a fire and proceeded to hold Tommy.

Who was using all his energy in fighting Wilbur's hand, "I have to find Tubbo! Wilbur let go!"

The small being froze as Techno and Phil entered the space, "Don't worry Tommy, we'll find him. But we'll be useless in this weather."

Phil attempted to comfort, suddenly feeling too large compared to the child. The man can barely see his facial features, but even he could tell that he was terrified.

The silence was thick and tension high and the broken voice to an all too small child spoke up, "So... this is it? You...you really got us to trust you-"

Wilbur knew where this was going, "Tommy, Tommy no-*

"You shithead's are really fucked up! What next? Am I a pet? Did you honestly sell Tubbo!?" Tommy continued, the only one about to tell he's crying was Wilbur.

Techno didn't say anything as Tommy yelled, guilt too strong in his gut. He slowly turned to the window, the snow falling harshly as Tubbo got farther and farther.

They were getting Tubbo back.

========

Tubbo wasn't feeling well, his head throbbed because of his horns and he was cold. His cagemate wasn't much better so he can't complain.

Enderfae were quite rare on the market, Tubbo had only met one that he called The Captain. Well sorta, he was of Dragon variety.

Tubbo doesn't like to think what happened to him.

The Enderfae was crying, as the Pillager added their cage to his wall. A pillager outpost.

"HHey, it'll be okay, I'll find a way out of this. My... family will come for us." Tubbo tried to soothe knowing that he was making empty promises.

"Its okay, I've come to terms with this the moment I got captured. I hope my friends are okay. My name's Ranboo."

"I'm Tubbo."

========

The cabin was dark, Wilbur slept curled around a pillow which held a borrower.

A borrower who's trust they destroyed...one of two.

Upon closer inspection, you could see the tear stains down his face. Filling the larger three with guilt, sympathy, and rage.

Technoblade added more Regen and Health Potions to his pack, his old red cloak was taken from the closet and put on. A large netherite axe lay strapped to his back along with his trusty trident.

His bright golden crown lay on his head once again as he readjusted his armor.

He stood in full netherite armor, his hair lay hazardous around his head. Stiffening as hands began to braid it into a ponytail.

"Be careful Technoblade, Tubbo is fragile compared to me and Wil. He might be afraid, try not to hurt him and try not to get hurt." Philza warned.

Techno responded in a snort, He was the Blood God, of course he'll be careful

========

Technoblade isn't always the lovable dope he shows his family, he was ruthless, dangerous, and incredibly protective.

Everyone knew of him, but very few knew him.

When something happens to his family, he hunts down the threat and if it's killable...need he continue?

A pillager kidnapped his little brother, his pack, and expects not to be hunted down like prey? Pillagers are not known for brilliance.

"Technoblade?!" A familiar voice rang out behind him, a feral growl escaped him.

Dream, Sapnap and George ran up to him. All equipped in their own armour, oddly enough Dream was without his mask and tear stains on his face.

They hesitated, they each had seen Technoblade in his most feral and bloodthirsty before, so they new to be cautious.

Sapnap spoke in Piglin, "Techno? Did something happen to Wilbur and Phil?"

"New Pack, Pillagers took him!" It was no secret that Feral Technoblade couldn't speak common, but it was still a surprise each time someone heard it.

Sapnap nodded, "We'll help, Pillagers stole my Inferno. Work together?"

The trio watched as the Piglin Hybrid nodded in agreement, it had been a while since they teamed up. What better way than to save family.

~~~~~~~~

Tubbo and Ranboo talked quietly, trying to brighten their seemingly dark future.

Ranboo talked about what he remembered before being bought by his Haunting, then finally trusting them and calling them his.

Tubbo spoke of his Herd, how he met the older three and how he knew one was just giant. How he observed them long enough to trust them, and their names.

Both promising the other that if they live or die that the other tell their family.

Not that it was necessary, about three minutes later an alarm went off, alerting the occupant of intruders.

Hope filled the two as yells of fear and agony echoed through the building, scaring the Evoker that captured them.

The pillager didn't have time to cast a spell when a familiar face burst through the doorway.

Tubbo could see the rage in his red eyes, but his happiness clouded judgement.

"Techno!"

For a moment, his rage cleared only for it to return full force at the Evoker.

Not long after that, he was struck down and Technoblade gently took the cage off the wall. He noticed the Enderfae and looked around for others.

His clawed hand wrapped around the small cage at the sight of small bones and jarred tiny insides, the only other living thing in the room was a small zombie Piglin hybrid in a jar next to the taxidermy book.

He took the jar and opened it, grabbed the child and opened Tubbo's cage and passed them to him.

As the building began to burn, Technoblade left just as fast as he arrived.

Tubbo watched as Ranboo called out to three individuals, he recognized one being a Mushroom hybrid but not the other two.

The baby zombie Piglin Hybrid curled next to him, both shivered just realizing the cold.

The bandana wearing man looked to Technoblade, "I can carry them if you want, keep them warm. You did agree to let us spend the night at your place."

He didn't understand the snorts and grunts but it seemed like the baby did because he copied.

That brought a soft smile to the bandana boy and Technoblade, the later grinned at Tubbo.

Soon they were on the move again. Tubbo and Ranboo huddled the baby Piglin, more relieved than before that they were saved.

========

Tommy hadn't eaten anything since Tubbo was taken, he hadn't interacted nor did he call Wilbur name and claim he was bald.

The two sizeshifter knew deep down that he wouldn't get better unless Tubbo was with them again.

The front door swung open revealing a steaming Sapnap holding something against his chest with the protective determination that was only in reserve for his friends and family.

Soon the rest of Dream Team and Technoblade entered the cabin, they were covered in soot smudges and looked exhausted.

Phil could see Tommy stiffen and move further from the door but settled on Technoblade, "Tubbo?"

Sapnap moved his arms to reveal a small cage with three small beings inside, one Phil recognized immediately.

"Tubbo!" Philza approached the younger man, who backed away at the same time as Ranboo flinched.

But the old man was patient, and the cage was released again, this time Tubbo was halfway through the door and jumping into Phil's hands.

"Hi Phil! Where's Tommy!?" Tubbo looked exhausted as well.

As gently as well as fast as he could, Phil brought his hands on the table so Tubbo could run to Tommy.

"Tubbo!"

"Tommy!"

The duo hugged until Tubbo passed out and caused a mass panic from everyone but Ranboo.

It wasn't ideal, but it was a new beginning for the clingyduo.

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - The aloof Bombay & wounded Border Collie

Summary: They say you are what you are in the dark. So you prove just who you are when there's only you and Frederick in a dark house, with no one else around. 

TW: [Swearing], [Profanity], [Angst with a happy ending] & [Mild panic attack]

So, first thing first, a little backstory about this oneshot. I had already written out the first scene a week before Redacted announced the discontinuation of Frederick & Bright Eyes series. Although he mentioned that it’s fine to continue on writing headcanons about the two, I was hesitant to continue writing this fic. 

But I’ve been missing them terribly so I sat my ass down and finally completed it! Yay! Fred & Bright Eyes had one of the most interesting dynamics in this fandom so I wanted to give it a go based on my headcanons of them. 

-

There's a strange sort of energy hovering around Vincent and Sam lately. 

It's not subtle either. Its anxiety, stress and uncertainty all roll together into a heavily dense fog that makes you itches under the skin. 

This has been going on for days now. 

Vincent constantly has thick textbooks with him whenever he comes over to Sam's place. They would exchange short pleasantries before Sam hurried off to his Werewolf beau (it's sort of funny the first time Sam returns home, and you spotted courses of wolf's hair stuck onto the hem of his clothes and jeans. You figured that this man's main hobby was tussling with Wolves, but when Sam would sneak back into his own fucking house like a teenager, it wasn't hard to put two-and-two together). Vincent would then make sure that you and Frederick are fed, settled in for the night before he completely ignores the two of you in favour of his school work. 

As if the two of you are a pair to toddlers. You'd laugh if it didn't annoy you. 

Fred, ever the gentle sweetheart, attempted to make small talks at first. Tentatively asking if he's stressed out over exams and if there's anything he could do to help - the result was expected. With pen in hand, notebooks and the two hundred and one pages depicting the foundations of magical healing, Vincent rather absentmindedly shooed him away. 

Sam is arguably the worst. Ever since he stepped outside of the house during their crash course of the Empowered creatures in Dahlia to answer a phone call, he returns with lines on his forehead and shoulders tensed as hell. 

Their impromptu lesson ended just like that when another Clan member had to babysit the two of you after Sam stormed out of the house. 

You don't know whether they realise how taunt their strings have been, and you don't really care, honestly. Just curious; you're pretty confident that something big will happen soon. 

At least there's something exciting to look forward to other than Sam's disapproving frowns and Fred's frustrated attempts at making you bear your heart and guts out. 

And something big will happen soon. Apparently, there's something equivalent to a magical Olympics that occurs every year called the Elemental & Energetic Games, and this year, the local supernatural academy would be the one hosting it in Dahlia. Interesting. 

Speaking of which, you could hear Vincent talking to his lover outside your bedroom through his phone. "Sam's on the way... yeah, he just texted me." A short pause. "Yeah, I can do that. Hey, hey, Lovely - listen to me. Everything's going to be alright. You've been practising non-stop for the Games. You deserve a special night for a change. So here's what we're going to do: I'll pick up some of that blueberry pie you love so much on the way back, we'll watch some movies after dinner and then have an early night so you'll feel better tomorrow. Sounds good? Nice. Oh wait - I think I can hear Sam outside. See you in a little bit. Love you too, Lovely." 

You tune the outside world after that. It makes sense now why Vincent was stressed out; he's busy playing the good boyfriend. 

With a tired sigh, you try your best to occupy your mind. It's three hours to midnight, but to Vampires, that's practically early morning, and you're already so bored. You don't want to step out of your little sanctuary if it means having to deal with Sam, Vincent and Fred tonight. 

Or ever. Forever sounds good. 

Not knowing what else to do, you pushed yourself out of bed and padded towards the window sill. The cool night air greets you as well as the trees and shadows that stretch on for miles. Once you and Fred were officially brought under Sam's care as his Progenies, you quickly realise that his house is located on the outskirts of Dahlia. Where the forests sprawl behind the abode and the city lights are just far enough not to pollute the night sky. 

A perfect place to raise a pair of unplanned Newborn Vampires. You conclude that either Sam enjoys living by himself in a secluded property or that this house was given to him by Mr. Solaire. 

Either way, you would've love to sneak out and explore the forest if it weren't for the magical wards that Sam had warned the two of you. The moment you or Fred steps out of the immediate area, Sam would know right away that one of them disobeyed his rules. 

So despite the pleasant night air, there's a strum of anxiety and restlessness stirring within you. Is it because of Sam's recent behaviours or the upcoming Games? You can't tell, not when no one is bothered enough to tell you what's going on. 

You take a deep breath and take your sweet time to exhale the air out. There's no use in working yourself up; not when you just need to get through this Newborn phase. It's better to think of the future. 

And that bastard's mangled corpse at your feet. 

"You should've listened to your friend, little mouse." 

Ironically, the monster's voice is the only thing keeping you sane during this whole happy house facade that Sam and Frederick insist on playing. Late-night fantasies of ripping that smug's asshole to pieces are the only thing that keeps you going, sad as it is. 

It's not revenge; it's justice. It's your atonement for hurting Frederick. What good would apologies serve when you can present that monster's head to him? You're not deluded enough to play the victim; you're the reason why the two of you are the way you are now, but you'll be damn if you admit that to Sam. 

Sam's already blamed you for what happened to Fred. Even if he never says it. His lingering glances and furrowed brows are telling enough. There's no need to give him more ammunition against you. 

You breathe in and out again; willing yourself to calm down. So you start to distract yourself by planning to gather enough money and resources to leave the Clan once Mr. Solaire deems that you're safe to be on your own and to others. His kind smile and knowing eyes should've made you uncomfortable, but all you can feel is genuine compassion and understanding coming from that ancient Vampire King. 

So. Priorities: Passing the Newborn period, gather enough money, clothes and anything else that's important, thank Mr. Solaire for taking you into his Clan, and if it's not too presumptuous, ask him to continue to care for Fred. 

A knock on the door startles you from your train of thoughts, but you keep your gaze on the dark forest laid before you. 

You heard the door creak as it slowly swings open and then, "Bright Eyes? Is... Is everything ok?" 

It's Fred. Of course, it would be Fred. 

"Mm-hmm." You reply absentmindedly. You didn't even have to look at him to know that he doesn't believe your bullshit. And him being your Sire makes it impossible to lie to him, so you often gives out vague responses. 

Most of these days, your interactions with him are curt, with doubt thrown into the mix. Fred is hesitant to press you when you brush away his questions, and in return, you hide as often as possible so you wouldn't step on any emotional landmines in this house. 

"Are you sure? Because I can kind of sense that you're upset..." Fred said after a brief moment of hesitation. Ah, it's going to be one of those nights. 

The bond between a Sire and his Progeny once again proves to be a fucking nuisance. Not only could you not lie to Fred, but he could also sense phantom emotions coming from you. So much for privacy. 

"It's fine, Fred. I was just thinking." There. Not a lie but not the total truth either. 

"O-Oh." From the doorway, Fred bit his lower lip. Why is it getting harder and harder to approach Bright Eyes nowadays? He hates this distance between them. He hates how they rarely left their room. 

He hates how it feels like he's losing his friend as the days go by. 

"Do you, uh, maybe want to play a game or something? Vincent hooked up a Playstation 5 before he left. I think he also left some video games - "

"I'm not in the mood to play tonight, Fred. Maybe tomorrow." 

Fred sighs at the clear dismissal. It honestly hurt; Bright Eyes constant rebuff is getting sharper and sharper. Without another word, Fred left Bright Eyes to their thoughts. 

As usual, nothing is absolved tonight. 

-

It's a boring rainy Wednesday night. The gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the shutters promises an incoming storm when you hear the sound of rumbling thunders approaching the city from a distance. 

Tonight, Vincent is too busy at D.A.M.N to babysit you and Fred. Sam already left the house an hour after the sun had set with his usual instructions not to go beyond the wards and that a Clan member would be coming over to supervise them. 

Why does this feel like you and Fred are the unwanted children from a divorced couple? Oh well, all the more reason to leave the clan ASAP. 

You plan to brood in your room as usual after draining your share of the blood bags in the fridge. However, the moment you take three steps out of the kitchen, lightning flashes across the sky. 

The power trip, hurtling the entire house into total darkness. 

"The circuit breaker," You murmur, inhumane eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness as you look around the area in 4K HD. "Did Sam ever mentioned where it was?" You tried to recall the house's layout from Sam's words alone, but you tend to tune out his voice whenever he speaks more than twenty minutes. So it looks like you better start from the basement.  

Just when you're about to head downstairs, a whimper froze you. You tilt your head towards one of the bedrooms. 

The sound is coming from Fred's. 

You stood your ground for only a few seconds of hesitation before you quietly approached his bedroom and slowly opened the door as to not startle him — concern creeping into your heart. 

Just like the rest of the house, Fred's bedroom is completely dark. Lightning flashed once more to illuminate Fred's huddled figure on the floor near the window. He's breathing very hard and rapidly with his head in between his knees. 

Your heart twisted into a knot at the sight of a frightened Fred, and you couldn't help but wonder if this is how he looked like when that monster hurt him. 

You forcefully put that thought away. You're horrible with words, but there's one way you can still comfort him. 

Fred's breath hitches when your back lean against his. "B-Bright Eyes?" He calls out with a choked sob, head slightly raised in surprise. 

When you said nothing, Fred let out a ragged sigh. "What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't stand the sight of me." 

You blink and turn your head to give him a side-eye. Say what? 

"Don't give me that l-look." Fred snaps after a sniffle. "You could hardly look at my face lately, and you only leave your bedroom whenever you have to eat. If it weren't for that, you'd happily pretend that Sam and I don't even exist." 

"That's because whenever I'm around, you keep wanting to talk about Wonderworld, and Sam keeps shooting me looks as if I'm a shitstain underneath his fucking boots." You shoot back reflexively. 

Much to the surprise of absolutely no one, your words upset Fred even further. "You can't talk about Sam like that! He's been nothing but kind to us. To you and you just - "

"He blames me for what happened to you!" Fred can't be this oblivious, can he?

Behind you, Fred went stiff.

"You're his Progeny, and I'm the deadweight that he's stuck with because you Turned me. He knows it, Vincent knows it. Fuck it, everyone in the Clan knows it! So why should I give a damn when I'm unwanted? And that's alright! That's totally alright! You want to know why that's alright, Freddy?" Lightning split the night sky. A rather powerful thunder shakes the house, but at this moment, nothing exists except for you, Fred and the tension that has been brewing between the two of you the moment your humanities were forfeit.  

"I'm not planning to stay here any longer than I have to! The moment Mr. Solaire give us the green light, I'm out of Dahlia! Buh-bye! You and Sam can do whatever the fuck you want, but I don't want to stay in this city any longer! I don't have anything left here!" 

Silence enveloped the bedroom. What are you even doing here? Why did you even think you could comfort Fred when all you've been doing is hurting him. Even now! This was a mistake. You should've - 

"I was right. I'm losing you too..." 

"Uh, what?" 

Fred tucks his head in between legs tighter as if he's trying to hide from the world. "I think I always knew that you were going to leave me when you started to pull away from everyone. That's why I wanted us to talk about that Halloween night so badly." His voice is ragged, tears stream down his face. "Y-You said that you don't have anything left in Dahlia, but... you're all that I have left and if you leave... I..." Fred sighed and quietly continued, "I thought I was your friend. I thought I meant something to you." 

"I've hurt you." You reply, just as quietly. "I've been hurting you since Wonderworld, and even tonight, I'm hurting you. I didn't listen to you that night, and because of it, we're here. You lost your family, friends and future and for that I'm... I'm so sorry, Fred. You didn't deserve anything that happened to you." 

"Thank you, Bright Eyes. I-I needed to hear that." Fred reply. When he reaches for your hand, you squeeze it back. "What happened was... fucked up, but none of us knew about that Vampire. Or that Vampires actually exist. So it's stupid of me to blame you for our d-deaths." 

"But I didn't listen - "

"Yes, you didn't listen but will you listen to what I have to say now, Bright Eyes? Please? I want us to move on from this together. I want us to be better." 

Perhaps it's how raw and near begging Fred sounds that both of your walls are down tonight. Perhaps, tonight, you finally realise that it's you that doesn't like confrontations and that despite Fred's gentle and reserved nature, he has no problem mending the wounds between the two of you with force if he has to. Huh, who could've thought? 

The two of you talk for hours in the darkness. It feels so awkward to bear your heart to Fred after everything, but to your immense surprise and relief, he listens to you patiently, and once you're done, he let you into his heart. All the fears, insecurities, regrets, shame and horror are laid between you and together, you address them one by one until the storm lets up. 

And when the silver light of the moon peeking through heavy clouds, you found yourself snuggling with Fred on his bed. Your head tucks into the crook of his neck while Fred's arm is around you. It's strange how lighter your heart is now. 

"Have you stop crying already?" You ask, wondering if you'd need to run to the kitchen to make a simple bag of ice for Fred's red, puffy eyes before they swelled. 

Fred snort. He sniffles and squeezes your body in assurance. Being slightly taller than you, it feels sort of nice to be held like this. Despite their heartfelt conversation and confessions, the trauma they both carry is still fresh, but now, it doesn't feel like an overwhelming miasma threatening to drown you in guilt and sorrow. "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright now. It feels good to finally cry after... after everything." 

"Can't relate." You bluntly interject. "I usually get pissed off after a crying session." 

"I can actually believe that." Fred giggles. "I'm beginning to understand you a lot better, Bright Eyes. Thank you for listening; I know that words are hard for you, so I'm very grateful that you want to work things out as much as I do." 

"Mn." 

Outside, the rain has become a gentle drizzle, and the stars ushered a bright full moon. It's too lovely of a night to brood; you might as well take a nap with Fred. 

"Bright Eyes?" Fred suddenly speaks up, bringing you out of your sleepy haze. 

"Mn?" 

"Do you... I mean... are you still planning to leave Dahlia?" His voice returns to its timid and hesitant state. 

"Well... yeah. After our - urgh - mushy talk, I realise it's all the more reason I need to do it. You're the only thing I have left in this city after all." 

"You want to leave me despite just saying that all you have is me? Uh, I don't... don't get it. Can you please explain it to me, Bright Eyes?" 

You hold back a groan. It looks like Fred has discovered the magic of 'please' and your weakness to it. "I'm planning to kill the Vampire who killed us and use his skull as my apology gift to you." 

Unlike you, Fred groans in disbelieve. You yelp when he manoeuvres you so your body can lie on top of his and trap you in his arms. "No... Bright Eyes, no... no hunting that asshole, OK? You don't need to give me a skull; just stay here with me. Skulls are gross anyway." He whines like a needy toddler, which, surprisingly, makes you feel fond instead of irritated. 

So you roll your eyes and press your face into Fred's chest. Perhaps you can try to convince Fred to leave with you in the future, but for now, nothing matters but the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the faint scent of wet grass outside. 

They're going to be alright. 

[onlyfreds]

Chapter 3 - Running from the Public Eye | TRP

Summary: First lesson to learn when you’re royalty: The press never rests.

Warning/s: a bit of angst, mentions of a scandal

Series Masterlist

“You ready darling?” Fred asked, gently knocking on the door of Ginny’s room.

“Just a minute.” I answered, finishing up my hair and makeup before opening the door.

He grinned, “Love, you didn’t need to doll yourself up for me. You’re already the most gorgeous woman in the world.”

I giggled, “Flatter me all you want Weasley.”

He placed a hand on the small of my back as we walked down the stairs of the Burrow, “Hey! I’m not flattering you. I’m telling you the truth.”

I raised a brow at him, “Oh yeah? Since when did you tell the truth.”

“I always tell the truth.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Give me at least one occasion wherein you told the whole truth.” I challenged.

He gave a small smirk, “The day I told you that I love you, that wasn’t a lie.”

He did have a point.

The smirk of Fred’s lips widened, “Rendered you speechless love?”

I couldn’t help but give a small smile, “Shut up.” I said, lightly smacking him on the chest.

“My oh my.” Ginny mused from her spot on the couch, “Freddie, where are you going with the lady dressed in red?”

My boyfriend grinned, keeping up the act his little sister has started, “Why, Miss Ginevra, I’m taking her out and showing her a good time.”

The youngest Weasley then turned to me, “And may I ask Miss Y/N, that out of all the people in the world, why would you choose him to show you a good time?”

I laughed, “Miss Ginevra, whether you believe it or not, your brother is a very charming, and may I mention, handsome man and I couldn’t imagine anyone else showing me a good time.”

“Come on guys.” George said as he entered the room, plopping down on the space next to Ginny, “Drop the posh accent. You’re making my head ache.”

“And, on that note.” Fred said, “My sweetheart and I better be going. We still have a date to go to.”

George pretended to puke at what his twin said, “Go on, don’t let us stop you. Your mushiness makes me sick.”

Ginny smacked his shoulder, “Just wait ‘til you have a girlfriend yourself. Then we’ll see about that mushiness.”

After bidding the bickering two goodbye, we headed on to the muggle town just a few blocks near the Burrow.

Fred and I walked through the town, the two of us finally having some times for ourselves.

“Did I ever tell you how lucky I am to have you in my life?” Fred asked, interlacing our hands together.

I giggled, feeling a blush rising up to my cheeks, “And did I ever tell you how much of a blessing you are to me?”

He grinned, leaning forward and connecting our lips into a sweet, slow kiss.

I held onto his shoulders to maintain my balance, smiling into the kiss as he placed his hand on the small of my back.

We didn’t care that we were snogging right in the middle of the street. Besides, we have always lived in the moment.

At the back of my mind, I knew that this was somehow a bad idea. But the rest of my mind, was filled with nothing but the man kissing me as if there was no tomorrow.

Fred Weasley had completely taken over my senses. All my thoughts were filled with nothing else but his smell, his touch and his kiss.

We pulled apart as our lungs started to demand oxygen and my mind, once again, reminded me why it was such a bad idea.

I glanced at my side, and from afar, I could spot a group of people. They didn’t even need to come nearer for me to know that they were the press.

“Darling, are you okay?” Fred asked, seeing the worried expression on my face.

“A bit uneasy.” I admitted, grabbing his hand and running, “Come on, we’ve got to go before they catch us.”

“Who exactly is going to catch us?” Fred asked as we weaved through the crowds of people.

“The press and the paparazzi.” I said, silently being grateful for all those times we had to run away from Filch, that really gave us so much practice.

“Well, we better hurry up then.” He said, pulling me towards a deserted alley.

The both of us leaned against the wall, trying to catch our breath, the paparazzi just nearby.

“Have you seen where the princess has gone?” One of them asked.

“They just disappeared.” Another answered.

“I think they went this way.” Another one from the group said.

Their clamoring then died away as they kept on their wild goose chase.

Fred and I breathed out a breath we didn’t realize we were holding.

“So,” He said with a small laugh, “this how a day in your life is huh?”

I smiled, leave it up to my boyfriend to enlighten the atmosphere with a joke. But that’s what I loved about him.

“Yeah.” I said, “I’m pretty sure half my life was spent running from the public eye.”

“I’m also pretty sure that we’ll be making the headlines tomorrow.”

Fred chuckled, wrapping an arm around my waist, pressing a kiss on the top of my head, “Let’s go home. I think we’ve had enough of an adrenaline rush for one day and if I didn’t know better. You would just want to cuddle and watch some movies.”

I smiled, leaning into his touch, “You know me so well.”

--

Remember what I said about Fred and I making the headlines?

I was right about that.

“Well, you look at that?” Ginny said amusingly as the rest of them took turns looking at the paper, “Freddie has been deemed the mysterious companion of the princess.”

Fred chuckled, “Let me have a look at that.” He said, snatching the paper from Ron, as he read through the article.

“The least they could do was say that I was good-looking.” He jokingly scoffed.

I rolled my eyes at him, “That’s because the press has to worst taste.”

“You know.” Hermione said, “I’m quite surprised that your parents haven’t been asking you about it yet.”

Just as she uttered the last word, we heard a small thud and saw that Hedwig was by the window of the Weasley’s kitchen.

I opened the window, letting the owl plop the letter into my open palm before she flew towards Harry.

I opened the letter, already suspecting was what written in it.

The letter was from my sister, she said that our parents was furious about the headlines and they were calling for me immediately.

“Right on schedule.” I muttered, throwing the letter on the table.

“What did they say?” Fred asked, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I sighed, “The letter was from my sister. But my parents want me to head over to the palace asap. They want to speak to me there.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asked.

I shook my head, “I’ll be fine Freddie. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He placed a peck on my cheek, “Okay then, but if they lock you up in the dungeons just tell your sister to send me an owl and I’ll be there to rescue you faster than you could say royalty.”

I laughed pressing a brief kiss on his lips, “I’ll keep that in mind Freddie.”

--

That’s how I ended up sitting in the “meeting hall” of the palace.

“Do you know that you’re giving a press an opening for a scandal?” My mother spat as she threw the newspaper on the long table in front of us.

“What kind of scandal?” Christel voiced out the question I had been wanting to ask.

My mum softened her gaze as she looked at Christel, “Well honey, you know how the press are. Once they’ve found something interesting, they won’t care about the facts. They’ll write any story as they please. And if they find something that will definitely pique the interest of everyone, there’s a sixty-five percent chance it’ll be a scandal.”

As she stated the last sentence, she shot me a death glare from across the table.

“You should know better.” My father said from my mother’s right, “You’ll be crowned Queen soon. You know that you should avoid a scandal at all costs.”

I sighed, “Look, it’s not a scandal. There’s nothing the press can say about it. Fred and I were just hanging out.”

“In a crowded place?” She taunted.

“You always told me that, in order to avoid the press, I should always be in a crowded place.”

“You know that it’s a case-to-case scenario.”

I took a deep breath, “Look, Fred and I were just hanging out. We were doing anything that we’re not supposed to do. There’ll be no scandal, or anything like that.”

“How sure are you?” My father asked.

Silence overtook the atmosphere.

He had a point. How sure was I?

“Then, we’ll just have to trust Y/N’s word. If she says that there’ll be no scandal, then we’ll just have to take her word for it.” Christel came to my defense, giving me an encouraging smile.

I gave her a grateful smile, silently thanking her for her support as mum and dad continued to discuss about the planning for the coronation.

--

“How was it?” Fred asked as I climbed in bed next to him.

“As expected, they were furious. Saying that I’ll be causing a scandal and all. But, don’t worry, I sorted it all out.” I reassured him.

He kissed the top of my head as I leaned against his chest, “Just remember dove, I’ll always be here for you, no matter what the world throws at us.”

He took my hand, raising it up to his lips as he kissed along my knuckles, “It’ll always be us against the world.”

I smiled up at him, “Us against the world? I like the sound of that.”

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@lumosandnoxwriting​​​​ @wand3ringr0s3​​​​ @famdomhideout​​​​ @nova-darling @gaycatlord-stuff​​​​  @pandaxnienke​​​​ @escapingrealitybyreading​​​​​ (If you are crossed out, that means I can’t tag you)

[hes-writer]

Be Quiet

Summary: y/n does the 'drop the towel' challenge

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex (video chat), oral, male receiving

Word Count: 2055 words

A/N:  this is one of my first smut pieces. i'm kind of nervous. let me know what you thought.

___

Since quarantine started, Harry had been facing his laptop screen for the majority of the day. His team scrambling to rebook dates, rescheduling the all-too anticipated Love On Tour and discussing various fees that needed to be paid. Honestly, you were sad that the tour wasn’t a go this year because of the pandemic. Harry was always at his happiest when he’s performing on stage, in front of a crowd that yelled his name and sang his songs in adoration and you couldn’t even feel offended by it. However, a part of you was happy that Harry managed to catch a flight home before the restrictions started happening.

Still, it didn’t help that his physical presence was the only thing around you. He was so busy that he barely spared a touch at you the whole week except for when you brought him his favourite kale smoothie or fed him his rice cracker snacks, to which he showed his appreciation through solemn kisses before Jeff called out his name sternly for his attention back.

You’ve been scrolling on the TikTok app recently to spend your time, chuckling to yourself at the funny videos, and brows drawing together in interest at the life hack tips that you deemed useful in the future. Then, you stumbled upon the challenge where girls walked in front of their boyfriends in only a towel to drop to get their attention. You bit your lip at the thought, wondering if this is what it took to finally get Harry’s hands on you.

______

You were fresh out of the shower, your hair tickling your sensitive back in damp touches. You made sure to shave every inch of your skin-- you’ve always loved the feeling of smoothness when you lay on your silky sheets at night. Plus, it made Harry absolutely mad at the sensation of velvety soft skin when he tangled his legs with yours.

Your fingers brushed off some large knots in your hair before you wrapped a blush pink towel around your chest. Legs peeked out from where the towel stopped mid-thigh.

“Yes, I think you’re right,” Harry replied, you could imagine him with his chin on his palm, glasses drifting down his slant nose in boredom.

You walked silently to his office, keeping your footsteps light. He perked up at the sound of the door creaking, plastering a look of confusion on his face when he took in your appearance and your phone pointed at him. He tilted his head in question before clearing his throat, “I think we should wait till’ everything is rescheduled before we announce it,”

He leaned forward in his chair, intrigued at your antics. You stood behind his desk, his laptop camera facing away from you. You unfolded the flap that held your towel around your body, Harry widened his eyes at the action. He shook his head in denial as if quietly asking you not to do anything right now. You bit your lip, shaking your head back with a teasing smile.

The towel landed on the floor with a light ‘thud’. You shivered unnoticeably when the cold air nipped your damp skin, goosebumps raised on your body at the shift in temperature. Giggling quietly, a giddiness expanded on your chest at the camera capturing Harry’s reaction the moment you revealed your naked body to him--mouth ajar, a flush of red painting his cheeks and his neck. Harry gulped at the sight, shifting uncomfortably in his plush leather seat where you stood just behind the screen where Jeff and a couple of executive members continued discussing the next topic.

You covered your mouth as you giggled, tapping the button to stop the recording, placing your phone face down on his mahogany desk. He tapped his lips to remind you to stay quiet, still not letting his gaze drift away from your now hardening nipples. You took his attention as an opportunity to tease him even more, twisting your buds gently between your fingertips, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp at the sensation that had Harry quick to press the ‘mute’ button on the screen. His fingers fell away from his lips, indicating that the microphone was off.  

“What do y’think y’are doing?” He growled, angling his head so that the camera won’t catch his lips moving. You shrugged innocently, palming your breasts in your small hand, some spilling out between your fingers. You knew that the action drove Harry crazy by the way his breath hitched--he always loved that your breasts were the perfect handful for him.

“Nothin’,” You quipped, biting your pointer finger with your teeth as you looked at him seductively. He was about to answer when his name was called. Harry’s hardened gaze told you to ‘behave’ but you never listened to him unless you absolutely had to.

“Yes, ‘m here. Sorry, Y/N was just checking up on me,” His eyes just about bulged out when you approached his side, resting your bum on the edge of the desk. You made sure not to let yourself be in the frame of the camera as you stretched your leg over Harry’s lap. “What the f--,”

You pressed your finger against your lips, shushing him with alarmed eyes pointing to his laptop. With the position of you standing on one leg, your pelvic bone shielded his prying eyes from your core unless he slouched incredibly low on his chair. He really wanted too, but that would be too suspicious.

You dipped your fingers in your slick heat, glossing the pads with your juices before rubbing it against your clit. Your leg wanted to jolt close in his lap but his tight grip held your calf down, biting your lip at the shock of pleasure. You repeated this a couple more times before pulling your leg back slowly, making sure to keep it below the desk. He sighed in relief, but you smirked mischievously as your foot swept past the bulge in his pants. The tent was so visible that you wanted nothing more but to have his length in your mouth.

He had just enough wit to mute himself before he released a small moan, looking off to the side to hide his pleasured face. “Christ, what are you doing to me, angel?”

“Missed you,” was all you said before maneuvering between his legs, under the thick plane of the desk that hid you from everyone else aside from him. You pressed your finger against your lips again, the shadows of the wood adding an ominous aura to your face. He lifted his hips as you tugged his sweatpants down. He stared at you with hooded lids, lips slick with spit as he licked them once over.

You let your tongue wander his thick length, grabbing the base to have a steady workplace. His dick was slick with spit, getting your chin sticky from both his pre-cum pearling on the slit and your mouth wrapped around the tip. His thighs relaxed as you took him in your mouth, gripping the arms of the office chair to pull the wheels closer to you so that you could take him deeper down your throat. You gagged, constricting around his tip which had him tangling his fingers in your hair to pull you back, his breathing heavy. He didn’t know how much longer he could stay quiet. You pushed his hand away, opting to return to your task at hand, bobbing your head back and forth with effort.

“Great, I-I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Harry clicked the window closed, slamming the laptop shut. “Shit, oh shit,” He moaned out head lulling back on the headrest as he sucked in a deep breath.

You pulled his cock out of your mouth, mouthing at the sides to let him catch his breath.

“Get the fuck outta’ there,” He said, waiting for you to crawl out his desk and beside his chair, kneeling down at eye level to meet his dick. “What was that, hmm?”

“I told you, I missed you,” You pouted at him, your heel rubbing against your core and you subconsciously rocked back and forth at the feeling. He looked down at you, “You missed me so much y'even playing with your pussy in front of me,” You nodded. “Why don’t you show me how much?”

You licked your palm slowly, feeling your saliva trickle down your skin, wrapping his velvety hardness with spit. He groaned as you pumped him with your closed fist, the clicking noise filling his ears. “So much, Harry,” You rubbed his red tip against your lips, his precum tasting so delightful. “Missed you so much. Love you so much,”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” You whimpered, “I love sucking your cock,” You said while letting the tip of your tongue trace lightly over his head but he understood anyway. "Love making you feel good,"

“You want more?” You nodded, beginning to cover his mushroom head with your mouth again. “God, yes,” He groaned in relief, tilting his head up as he licked his lips slowly. The fingers in your hair tightened as you pulled off again, licking his base to get it wet, journeying lower to where his balls lay nice and tight. Your mouth puckered as you gently suctioned his balls, prodding your tongue in the middle of the sack that had him curling his toes. You pushed yourself higher, lifting your bum from your heel to gain an advantage to take him down your throat.

“So fuckin’ good,” He lulled, voice deep with lust as he watched you lay your tongue flat on your bottom lip, sheathing him inside your warm mouth over and over again until the heat spread to his upper body, forcing him to sit up and pull his shirt over his head. You moaned at the sight of his chest heaving, the butterfly on his stomach fluttering in anticipation. Your palm flattened against his belly, tapping it twice to let him know that you wanted him to take over. “You sure?”

“Yes, please,” You nodded, pulling your head back. “Open your mouth for me, then,”

You let your jaw go unhinged, sticking your tongue out as the underside of his cock grazed your textured organ, “Fuck, that’s it,” You stared at him with tortured eyes, wanting his hips to go faster but his caring nature wanted you to enjoy it just as much as he was. He shifted his hand to hold the back of your head, raising his hips to shove his cock deeper in your throat, fucking your mouth. He did this for a few more seconds until the wheels on the chair moved farther back, almost causing him to crash on the ground. You grasped his thick thighs in your hands, taking the control back by dipping your head back and forth until you needed to catch your breath.

“‘M about to fuckin’ blow, baby,”

You latched your mouth on his drippy tip, tracing the small veins with your tongue. One hand cradled his balls, rolling them around like a pair of die that simulated the blood flow to a pleasurable extent. Your other hand clutched his base, twisting your hand around it in circular motions while simultaneously going up and down. You suctioned your lips in a tight grip that it almost hurt, making sure that not one part of his dick was left untouched at any moment. “Holy shit, ‘m cumming,”

You doubled your efforts, not caring about the mess that you were leaving on your cheeks, your chin and your chest, even going as far as genuinely moaning at seeing Harry lose himself to the pleasure you were giving him. The noise he released came from within his chest, paired with shouts of your name and a ‘jesus fuck’, his stomach convulsing as his dick practically throbbed in your mouth at the force of his orgasm. His balls pulsing with each stroke of sticky, white cum painting your mouth until he softened between your plump cheeks. You swallowed heavily, using your fingers to catch the few drops that escaped back into your mouth.

“Tastes good?” He panted, watching you walk over to pick up your towel, wiping the excess bodily fluid from your body. You hummed in agreement, drying the tips of your hair off. “So good,”

_______

eeek

_______

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[itsthemoofacewriting]

Why won’t you comfort me?

Ray’s fic request, ‘Take them, they’re yours’, actually birthed two additional stories, ‘the way she’s pulling you in’ and this one. Both on completely different ends of the spectrum.

Grief, grief and more grief. I cried writing this. You’ve been warned.

Summary: The moment he’d lost his mother, he’d lost everything. Rating: T

This can also be found on AO3 and FFN. 

Enjoy?

The anniversary of a death, a birthday… Mother’s Day, they were all reasonable days to be upset, to be reminded of that person, be bogged down by the past and what could have been, maybe even cry.

But it hadn’t any of those days. It’d been a very normal day and all it had taken was one miniscule thing and a fleeting thought for it to all go downhill.  

It’d been stupid, really. One moment he was on his way to Nami’s orange tree late at night, perfectly fine, to pick some oranges for tomorrow morning and he’d caught whiff of Robin’s flowers. It had been quick, a fleeting moment, and he’d smelled them a thousand times before, but his brain had made the connection this time around.

They smelled like his mother.

She’d have them on her bedside table when he went to visit and although he hadn’t focused on it back then, he just used to remember thinking how nice it smelled there compared to the stale air of the castle.

That one smell threw him straight back to being a little boy, eagerly running to the hospital to see the one person that loved everything about him.

His Mum.

The moment he’d lost her, he’d lost everything.

Any scrap of happiness or freedom he’d had was gone. Gone was the person fighting in his corner for his father to leave him alone or to tell his siblings off when they were being particularly mean. But mainly, he’d lost his safe place.

Lost a place where he could go and be accepted for who he was with unconditional love and support.

Lost a person so dear to him, that his world had been shattered.

One day he’d been told she was gone and that had been it. There had been no further explanation, or condolences or someone to share his grief with. His siblings had looked at him like he’d lost his mind when he couldn’t control the tears streaming down his face, sobs racking his body, and his father had sneered down at him, not an ounce of compassion in his words or face as he was told to control himself, pull himself together.  

It’d been his mother’s handmaid in the end that had explained the following day, when he’d gone to her hospital room to check if it was just some cruel joke. She’d explained in the best way she could to a child that’d just starting to learn the harsh realities of the world. She’d said it had just been her time, that she’d gone peacefully, with a smile on her face and had told her so many times about how proud his mother had been to have had him.

She’d rubbed his shoulders, trying to comfort him as best as she could as he wailed at the empty bed, but she had to be respectful because of his title, which meant there was a foot between them, and he couldn’t bury his face in her shoulder like he’d wanted to. He’d appreciated the gesture, it was the most he’d received back then, yet all he’d thought about was how it lacked the warmth his mother’s touches held and how desperately he wanted to feel that again.

He never saw the handmaid after that day, and it had taken years after to figure out why.

After that, he hadn’t felt warmth for a long time.

As soon as he was deemed a lost cause, between his failure to keep up with his siblings and sporadic emotional outbursts that he couldn’t control, he’d been sentenced to the darkness. It had been cold and dark, although he’d been free to cry as much as he wanted without judgement.

And cry, he did.

Cried for all he’d lost, for where he was, for how he couldn’t save his mother or see her one last time. Couldn’t savour the last hug he’d had with her or memorise the way she’d smiled at him because he hadn’t known what was coming.

He didn’t even have a photo of her.

All of that had been taken away after her death, apparently, they didn’t need the distraction and it had been carried out with such ease, like she’d meant nothing. All he’d had back then was a drawing of her he’d made with charcoal he’d found in his cell and no matter how many times he’d tried; he could never capture the love in her eyes or the softness in her smile.

He wondered if his father had ever mourned for his wife. If he had, he’d never seen it.

He was lost in his grief, the tears pouring hot and fast, and he’d long given up on wiping his face, the sleeves of his shirt and collar already saturated. His childhood played in a loop in his head, and he was so out of touch that he missed the shuffle of feet drawing in closer behind him.

“Sanji-kun?” Shit. “Are you okay?”

And that was the was one woman in particular on board that would understand. Who had lost their own mother in the blink of an eye, in an instant had also lost their safe place after years of comfort and love and thrown into darkness against her will.

His back stiffened despite the soft words, all too aware of how back then this sort of behaviour would have earned him a backhand, and he only had a moment to pull himself together because he had to say something quickly.

“Of course, Nami-san.” His voice wobbled halfway through, and it sounded weak. “Is there anything I can get you?” He asked, in hopes of fooling her with his normal question.

“No, thank you.”

“Okay, well I’m going to bed soon, so I’ll see you in the morning.” The words were bitter in his mouth, from holding back his tears and for trying to dismiss her. It was for her own good though and that at least soothed him, she didn’t need to deal with his crocodile tears.

There was a pregnant pause and he wondered briefly if he’d somehow managed to convince her with his poor acting until he heard the shuffle of slippers closing in.

Of course he couldn’t fool her.

She sat down next to him and oh god. She was in her pyjamas. He was ruining her quiet evening; she’d only gone to the kitchen for some water.

He couldn’t look at her, he was pathetic sitting there crying like a child and maybe he hoped that if he was silent for long enough, she’d leave him. So she didn’t have to endure this.

Instead, she cupped his face, guiding him to face her and even though he complied, his eyes were still looking at the floor. She didn’t pay any mind to that though, her thumbs brushed along his face, chasing away the tears and drying his face. She pulled a tissue from the pocket of her shorts to wipe away at his nose and he burned with shame until he looked at her. There was no disgust on her face, no sneer for his sorry state, only kindness and understanding.

That look was enough for his eyes to well up again and her expression didn’t change, she didn’t look annoyed that he still wasn’t done or that cleaning his face had been fruitless effort when he was just going to cry again. Instead, she smiled, and her own eyes even looked a bit misty.

Her hands pulled away from his face and he almost wanted to chase after the affection until her arms opened to make a space for him in between them.

“It’s a one-time offer, surely you can’t pass that up?” She joked teasingly, wiggling her fingers for him invitingly.

He spluttered a laugh through his red rimmed eyes and errant tears at the normality of their relationship, how she wasn’t tiptoeing around him.

Hurriedly he scooted over and into her waiting arms, although he hadn’t needed to as her arms wrapped around him, drawing him in quickly as he curled into her embrace and tucked himself in the nook of her neck. It’d been so long since he’d had this and it was so familiar to the hugs from his youth, when he cried into his mother’s hugs as he told her about the cruel things his father or siblings had done on that particular day or laughed as she wrapped her arms around him as he sat in her lap, explaining his latest creation from his scrap book of cooking ideas.

For the first time in a long time, he could picture his mother’s face behind his closed eyes. He sobbed, shoulders heaving as he gasped for breath between his crying because it was all too much and exactly what he wanted at the same time.

He’d never been able to properly mourn her.

Belatedly, he realised Nami had started crying too, her frame shaking along with his and his hair dampening from her tears as they clung to one another fiercely. She didn’t ask or push for an answer or explanation for his state, she just let him cry into the nook of her neck, clinging to her desperately.

“I miss her,” he said eventually, voice quiet and raw.

“Who?”

He couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t get them past his throat where he felt like he was choking.

He didn’t need to though; she saw straight through him, she understood. “Your Mum?”

He nodded, feebly, pathetically, into her neck and a fresh wave of tears came over him.

“You’ve never told me about her.” She said softly, observationally. There was no pressure to elaborate, nothing in her tone forcing him but the option was there.

And he took it. “She was kind and warm. She’d listen to me talk about cooking endlessly and taste test and put in requests-”

‘And she loved who I was back then. Even when no one else did.’

He’d been holding himself together so far until his throat had seized up, the memories flooding in thick and fast. He sniffed, clearing his throat, trying to contain himself but it was in vain as new tears welled up and his head rested heavily on her shoulder in defeat as he lost the battle.

“Sorry,” he choked out, ashamed once again.

“Don’t be,” she soothed, no sign of irritation in her voice at having to reassure him for the umpteenth. “Tell me more about her, she sounds lovely.”

With her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, he realised that this was what he’d wanted back then. Not someone just rubbing his shoulders from a distance or trying to soothe him to stop the tears, but an actual hug as they let him cry without telling him to be brave or to be a big boy. It made the tears burn hotter and sadness surged out for his younger self.

Belatedly he realised, that as he talked and she listened, with her arms wrapped around him in comfort-

She was warm.

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

I love Sanji’s backstory so much in case that wasn’t already obvious. I will find every angle imaginable to write about it.

I can’t remember who told me about this or where I saw it, but I heard a wonderful analogy for grief that even to this day I still think about, so I feel it’s fitting that I share it here. Grief’s like being in a room with a ball and a light switch, the ball is the person/event, and the switch is grief/sadness/pain. When it happens, that ball is huge, so huge that it’s constantly hitting the light switch. However, over time, that ball gets smaller and smaller, but it’s still bouncing around the room, so it means that it’s still going to hit the switch occasionally. Sometimes, by chance, it hits the switch constantly, even though it’s tiny and other times, it misses it for a long time, however, it’s always going to hit the switch at some point, no matter how small. It’s very simplified, but a few years ago I experienced grief in a big way, and it helped me make sense of it, so hopefully it’ll help someone else too.

As always, please forgive any errors.

Thanks for reading.

[2manyfandoms2count]

Dearest Family

So, the title of episode 21, huh? My mind went straight to angst, even if I'm doing my best to rationalise it.

Non angsty theory: It's around New Year's (because of this Insta post's caption), the family comes to visit, you've got Gina, Rolland and Wang Cheng visiting together, tensions arise, perfect fodder for Shadowmoth's akumas.

Angstier theory: mini fic under the cut

“Tom, come quickly!”

Sabine’s panicked voice had her husband run up the stairs to Marinette’s room. She turned towards him with dewy eyes as he emerged through the trap door, and simply handed him a sheet of paper.

Sabine hadn’t meant to read the letter. She obviously hadn’t been meant to, either. She’d inadvertently knocked over Marinette’s paper basket when she’d wanted to empty it, and caught sight of a little doodle of her family at the bottom of one of the paper balls: Tom, Marinette and her, all smiling, surrounded by little hearts.

She should have resisted her curiosity, but her daughter’s art had always been her weakness. She couldn’t help it: even if Marinette deemed it wasn’t good enough, Sabine's motherly instinct told her to gather all the scraps of creativity she could find. She knew her (not so) little girl would appreciate it someday. She’d been so happy when she’d found her knitting fairy sketches again.

Tom held the drafted letter low enough that she could read it again.

"Maman chérie, mon Papa adoré, Chère Famille,

If you're reading this, then it’s already too late. then I must already be gone. then I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied to you for so long, and I'm sorry to have let you down. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you what I was preparing I had no other choice. I really wish I could’ve stayed

I love you.”

She finished taking in the contents of the crumpled, tear-stained sheet of paper just as it fell out of Tom's hands, and she felt her legs buckle under her. Tom caught her in his strong arms, but when she looked up, she saw the tears in his eyes.

She looked around her, and noticed that all of Marinette’s pictures of her friends, of Adrien, were gone. That everything was neatly tidied up, with no trace of her usual bustling activity. Sabine felt her heart tighten in her chest as she saw a single envelope stick out of one of the books on her shelf.

Her gaze lingered on it, attracting Tom’s attention to it as well. He reached over to pull it out, keeping a secure hand on her back.

♡ Maman & Papa ♡, they both read. The envelope was sealed with a heart-shaped sticker. Neither dared open it.

“Where’s Marinette?” Tom’s voice was hoarse as he voiced the question she didn’t know if she wanted the answer to.

“She said she was going to spend the afternoon at Alya’s, before dinner with the family,” she replied with a flat voice.

“I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, then.” Tom stood straighter and wiped his eyes. “It must all be a misunderstanding.”

“Yes, there must be some kind of explanation,” she said quietly, her mind racing. Marinette often had creative writing assignments; surely this must have been one of them. “I’ll just call her to make sure she made it safely. There have been quite a few Akuma attacks lately, you never know.”

“Thank you.” Tom let out a relieved sigh as she pulled out from his embrace and dialled their daughter’s number, putting the call on speaker.

“You’ve reached Marinette! Leave a message. BEEP!”

Sabine shook her head and looked up to Tom.

“She’s probably just having fun. She doesn’t spend a lot of time on her phone.” He rubbed her back soothingly, although worry still filled his eyes.

“Should we try calling Alya?”

“Well, it can’t hurt…” He scratched the back of his head.

She scrolled through her contacts until she found the relevant number, which she'd had since Marinette's surprise birthday party. She'd been so happy, then.

“Hello?” Alya’s voice sounded after three excruciating tones.

“Hello Alya? It’s Sabine, Marinette’s mother.”

“Mrs Cheng! What a nice surprise, how are you?” The young girl’s voice was warm and joyful as always, making her friend’s parents relax a little.

“Good, thank you! I was just wondering if I could speak to Marinette, about, um, her grandparents coming over.” Sabine tried to keep her voice as level as possible.

“Oh, er, I’d love to help you with that, but she’s not with me.”

“Weren’t you two spending time together today?” Sabine insisted.

“Oh no, we’re hanging out tomorrow! She said she had a family thing today. Are you sure everything’s alright?”

Sabine’s phone slipped out of her hand and she felt a single tear roll down her cheek.

She knew Marinette had her secrets, and she respected them. She’d been a teenager before her, she could understand.

I really wish I could have stayed. The words in her letter came back in full strength, knocking the wind out of her.

She fell to her knees, bringing Tom down with her.

Then the world went dark, but for a purple butterfly.

--

Meanwhile, I imagine Marinette skipping around the Tuileries, organising a surprise picnic for her family (who is also visiting in the angstier version). That letter was a draft for the Fu-like letter she wants to leave out for her parents, but it was too painful and she abandoned her project to write it. The envelope holds a letter with a handmade voucher for, like, a game of UMS with her parents.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (16/17)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Note: 

I know I said on tumblr I was planning on ending the story today and apologies for dragging this out longer.

The final chapter is already written out but editing is gonna take me an extra hour or so. Also, this week has been hectic, work especially has been very hectic since I'm covering a job for 3 people now while they hire. I ended up getting a little sick today so I decided to put off a lot of the asks and postings until Sunday.

I could post the final chapter earliest, tomorrow night. Latest, I'll be posting the final chapter is Wednesday. I wanna get it out soon but there are still a lot of stuff I'm hoping to fix up so, apologies for not meeting the expectations.

Thank you so much for reading though. It really means a lot to me. 

As always, feedback is very much appreciated.

“You can take a seat Hange.” Shela’s voice was gentle. She had taken her time pronouncing every syllable.

Still, something jumped inside Hange as she heard it. She gathered herself together and willed herself to make eye contact. “Sorry about that...I got a little distracted,” she said. She was starting to get a little self conscious. Did she actually jump? Was her tone too jittery? Were her eyes too wide?

The woman in front of her seemed unfazed as if she was watching Hange do something so normal as to just stare at the room in front of her for a long few seconds. Still, Hange avoided her gaze and looked around as she made her way towards the sofa.

Levi had only ever talked about how much of a hassle and how much of a pain the whole process of going to therapy was. Over time, he had started ditching the sessions altogether. Consequently, Hange had expected an atmosphere that would make her feel a little more restrained than what she had felt then.

It turned out just entering the room made her feel the complete opposite of what she had expected.

Shela’s office was more spacious than Hange had imagined it to be. Or more full of life.

Filled with too much life in a way that Hange couldn’t understand. But it seemed to hold more than the average doctor’s office she’d been to. Maybe it was the paintings on the wall or the wooden bookshelf that stood so tall and wide it was an omnipresent in the room.

Either way, it was comfortable and Hange chalked it to the rustic feel of the room. The ambiance was just too strange, the shades of the wallpaper, the rustic carpeted floor was too indulgent of her senses and she could have been taking a little more time than necessary to get to her seat.

It looked like Shela followed suit. By the time Hange had settled on the chair, Shela had still been on her way.

Shela leaned forward from her seat and reached out a hand in greeting. She seemed excited, too excited. “It’s nice to finally be able to talk to you like this, Hange Zoe,” she said.

That excitement in her voice was enough at least to pull Hange’s focus away from the ambiance of the room and towards the woman in front of her. A clear reminder that she was there for a reason.

Or two reasons. Hange corrected herself as she pulled out her file. “Thank you so much for agreeing to go through this with me,” she said. “Since Levi started having sessions with you, we kept in touch so at least we had some history beforehand… And given your background, I thought you might be the best person to give me some extra content on my thesis.”

“For your review of related literature?”

Hange nodded. “It’s not yet done. I did research already on the biological aspect but I thought you might have information on the psychological aspects of it…” She pulled out a folder from her bag and slid the file towards Shela.

Shela was quick to scan through the title. “Looks interesting. What made you pick this topic?”

“Many things...” Hange said. “I thought I would be able to help more people doing this type of thesis. And maybe I can take further studies and---”

“Does this have anything to do with Levi?” . Shela raised one eyebrow at her.

“Oh? Was it obvious?” Hange asked. She deemed it futile to have even denied it then.

Shela started to flip through the pages of the draft a little quicker. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard from him. He never replied to any of my texts.” She stood up, gesturing for Hange to continue talking as she made her way to the shelf at the back of the room.

“He went home,” Hange said. There was an awkward pause for a few seconds and she felt some inclination to fill it herself. “Back to his hometown,” she added. “He probably wanted to spend his birthday with them, or maybe Christmas. I guess this is a good time for him to go home… He---”

“So Hange, do you wanna talk about Levi? Or would you like to talk about your thesis?” The way Shela said it was far from abrasive.

From her position, Hange couldn’t even tell what face Shela was making. Yet she found herself a little shaken, particularly self conscious she was taking up precious office time. And for a few seconds longer, Hange struggled to find the right words. “There are things I wanted to ask about… Like definitely, I told you I need to discuss the psychological aspect and…”

“Well, from what I’m seeing, this didn’t need a session. I could have emailed you the pdf file of my thesis and just answered if you had any questions.”

Hange only noticed then as Shela walked back to her seat that she had pulled out two binders from one of the bookshelves.

“If you need any more sources for your thesis, you can read through this.” Shela placed the binders on the table and flipped to the last page of the thicker one. “And you can check through my bibliography for any more sources and I’m sure you’ll figure the rest out on your own. Levi told me you were a pretty good researcher growing up…”

Hange felt the blood rush to her face. That only made it harder to grasp for the right words. “When was your last session with Levi?” There were many other things Hange would have wanted to ask then. Her mouth just wouldn’t cooperate.

“A little more than a month ago. A few weeks before your finals. “ Shela answered. She rested her elbows on her lap, her chin on her hands.

“Finals ended more than two weeks ago. I was hoping he talked to you before he left.”

Shela shook her head. “No word from him.” She must have sensed the disappointment in Hange’s face because only a second later, she continued. “But maybe going home would be good for him. He might find someone to talk to there.” Her tone was cold, disconnected and it didn’t look like she believed it herself though.

“I know you would tell him to write, he told me that much about your sessions. But did he ever tell you about his stories?”

“Commander Zoe and Captain Levi?”

Hange nodded. “Oh, he did. You see, I wanted to talk to you about that. But I don’t know either whether or not I should be talking to his therapist about this...But I’m worried.”

“Why?”

“He deleted the file.”

If Shela was shocked, she didn’t show it. The only hint to any emotion in the room had been the short silence that followed. “I suspected he’d do that much,” she said.

“Suspect that much? Did he tell you something? Was there something wrong with his writing? Is he okay?”

Shela shook her head. “ I’m not in a place to tell.”

“Why did he get so attached to his stories? Why did it affect him so much that he couldn’t even accept a death?”

“I’m sorry Hange, I don’t wanna waste your time here so I’ll be upfront with you. What Levi and I talk about here stays between us.”

“I respect that.” Hange expected the answer, still she kept her tone long and drawn. She still found herself clinging to some hope that there was something Shela could share.. “I want to know though… Is this because of the injury? He lost a lot because of that and I know I was somehow involved with it but I just can’t shake off this feeling of guilt. ”

Shela sighed. “You know, I may not be able to tell you what we talked about. But I’m sure you know more about this than I do. You might even be able to contribute more insights to this discussion than I can,” she said. “Tell me Hange, what went on after our last therapy session. Did he really have finals?”

“Yes we did. I was busy too so I didn’t think too much of it then but the weeks leading up to finals are usually more hectic for any student….”

“Would you know if he still continued to write after the finals?”

“He did.”

“You seem sure.”

“He shared the document.” Hange started. She unlocked her phone and opened her drive document. It wouldn’t be there, she was sure of that but she could have saved it and it would have still been there. She forced a smile as her mouth threatened to curl down. Hange was still scolding herself for wasting such an opportunity. She let her phone fall carelessly on the coffee table in front of her and leaned back on the sofa. “So I got to read it.”

“Did Captain Levi really die?” Shela asked.

“No. Commander Hange did.”

“So before he deleted it, Commander Hange died?”

“That was the last chapter I read. Then an hour or so later, I confronted him about it, he asked me to leave me alone, then the next thing I know he deleted the file.” Hange leaned her head back on the backrest and stared up at the ceiling. “But you know, he didn’t want to believe that Hange died. She burned alive, he described it so vividly in his writing but he kept telling me, she didn’t die.

“Oh?”

“If someone burned alive, they should be dead right? Maybe there was a sequel to it that he just didn’t write yet.”

“But if Hange were alive, wouldn’t Levi have seen it through instead of doing something so rash as to delete the whole thing? Levi has a tendency of…”

Running away? Not processing things? Hange looked back at Shela and nodded slowly.

Shela seemed distracted. She was staring at something upward, mumbling to herself as if finding the right words to say. “Trying not to regret things,” she added a few seconds later.

“Regret… I noticed that. With the jumping and the injury but I wanted to ask you, if you think the story is somehow connected to how he’s processing his injury.”

“I have theories but they’re not mine to tell. Have you asked Levi yourself?”

Hange was almost tempted to laugh. That seemed like the only way her body knew how to process the last week alone in the dorm. She had sent three texts, a question about when he had gone home, a birthday greeting and a New Year’s greeting. “I don’t think he wants to talk to me anymore,” Hange said. She avoided Shela’s gaze. Somehow, her heart was racing then, her blood was rushing to her face much faster than usual and she found herself curling her fists into a ball, finding some semblance of control in them. Was she ashamed that Levi wasn’t talking to her? She shook her head. “But you know, I can try to talk to Levi.”

“What about this… I’ll contact Levi when he comes back. I’ll try to get his side of what’s been happening. Maybe I can even get him to reply.”

“Are you sure you can’t tell me anything now? Maybe even something vague. I can try to figure the rest out for myself,” Hange said. She couldn’t tell then if she had raised her voice.

Shela didn’t seem shaken at all. She shook her head again. “This is between me and my patients.”

Hange had integrity, she understood confidentiality clauses. She had been researching all her life though, and that side of her still continued to fight. Maybe if the hints weren’t all there, poking at her, just provoking, she would have given up much more easily “I just wanna understand it, I wanna understand him. Even if we don’t talk after this. Even if Levi wants to end this, you know I’m fine. I just wanna figure out for myself why he acted that way. I’m worried.”

Shela cocked her head to the side, her expression unchanging. “Believe me, I’m worried too but I can’t say much. Levi’s my patient and whatever we talk about in this room is between us.” She pushed the two binders on the table towards Hange and continued. “But I don’t want to leave you empty handed. I wrote two pieces for my dissertation which you might find useful, something personal and something professional, I can send over a copy of both of them to you over email. Or if you want a hard copy, you could have this photocopied in the library nearby. What do you think works for you?”

The digression had Hange’s lips trembling then. Shela knew things she didn’t for sure and Hange found herself tempted to even curse silently at that confidentiality clause.

She opened the cover to find the title page in black ink, in one of the most readable fonts.

Signs that suggest the reality of reincarnation and its manifestations in patients.

You got what you wanted. Hange thought to herself as she scanned the title page of the document in front of her. It was a cold and professional title. The researcher inside her should have been satisfied. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t ungrateful either. “Thank you, I’ll make sure to read it,” she said. It was still help anyway.

Another, much thinner book was pushed next to it.

Musings on a Past Life: Written by Kuchel Ackerman

“This is my own personal copy,” Shela explained. “It’s not something you should be emulating when doing research but… I thought it could give you some insight to your thesis.

“Okay, if I have some extra time, I’ll---”

No actually, let’s make this your little homework. I want you to read both pieces. And if you get a chance to talk to Levi again…”

Shela probably said something after that. At that point though, Hange was somewhere else. She had pulled the thinner document towards her and propped it on her lap, and scanned through it. She only had to read through the first paragraph on one of the final pages to understand why it wouldn’t have passed up as anything academic.

She wasn’t rattling off procedures, scientific speculations or statistical procedures. She was painting pictures of dark streets, cramped streets and a shabby one bedroom alone with a baby. She spoke of soft skin, a baby scent that never faded and illness. She reflected on loss, regret all manifesting in that last face she saw before she fell asleep for the final time.

A teary eyed face. A shaken voice begging at her not to fall asleep. And then nothing.

Maybe there was darkness, darker than the ceiling of the underground, darker than the room that had been hers and her child.

That was left to mercy of  Hange’s speculation.

It was only when she was alone in the dorm, two days after, did she reopen it. It had taken her more time than necessary to finish it and maybe it had been because she had ended up rereading whole paragraphs, flipping pages back more times than she could count.

And it was only then, after finishing that personal file did she feel compelled enough to read the official output.

She opened a page, towards an introduction, a foreword or a message. Possibly all of those at once. But it connected so seamlessly to Kuchel’s own musings.

A False Bottom.

All humans feel. Even when they say they don’t, they feel something.

Human psyche is an endless blackhole of emotions, knowledge and experiences….

There are still things psychologists cannot comprehend about the human psyche. All we can do is endeavor to make sense of it…

With this thesis, the researcher proposes that one possible explanation for unpredictable bouts of emotion, out-of-character decisions, the phenomena of irrationality is the phenomena of reincarnation…

Manifestations of our past life.

“And maybe there are emotions that transcend our worldly experiences. Maybe there are emotions that transcend the constraints of time, place and life.. It’s just a matter of believing that false bottom exists and embracing it when it manifests itself.”

And how many times did Hange allow those words to echo inside her as she sifted through page after page. Enough times at least to have her open a blank document.

As she soon found out, it wasn’t easy at all to embrace the blank document. She was completely aware she didn’t have to open the blank document, she had a half filled one already, having started on her own thesis a while back.

But something had willed her to do just that. Something inside her that wanted answers to questions, and it begged for them,  clamored for them and Hange was starting to forget who even asked it. She? Or Kuchel?

Musings of a Past Life. Hange had typed out the title days ago already. Maybe it wasn’t easy because it wasn’t her past life to write. It was Levi’s past.

Or so that was what Levi claimed when he wrote it. “Ugh…. What the hell am I doing?” Hange removed her headphones, closed her eyes tight, inhaled then exhaled. “Okay Hange. You wanted to write this thesis for Levi right? You read his whole story. This should be easy.”

She just needed to write enough to remember his story. Enough to at least shoehorn him into her own thesis.

“And after that, you never have to think about him again,” Hange said. She opened her phone again and stared at the last sent message.

January 3 6:21 AM

Wanna talk when you get back?

“I wonder…. Did you talk to Shela?” Hange asked quietly, almost to herself. But Shela would have told her right? But what if Levi told her not to tell? What if he just wanted to cut it off already?

It was an idea Hange didn’t want to entertain just yet. Thesis was looming, graduation was hanging over her head like some sort of dark cloud. She didn’t have time to deal with heartbreak.

So in the wee hours of morning, Hange composed a quick last message to Levi.

January 5 2:23 AM

Hey, I’m sorry about everything. I should have been more sensitive to your needs. Even if you don’t wanna meet after this, it’s fine. I had a great time working with you and I’ll remember these past few months :D. I’m just sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.

Just assure me please. Did you get to talk to someone? I hope you did. I was just concerned. But it doesn’t matter too much now. As long as you’re okay.

And the next few actions after that were automatic.

Settings. Profile. Ignore Messages.

She had more important things to think about then. She had to admit, her inbox was starting to look a bit better without that thread she was constantly checking that had a string of messages that had been so pathetically ignored.

That last decision and the last few actions leading up to it had sapped more energy from Hange than she had expected it to. Or maybe it was the dim light of the early morning and the small yet strong light of her lamp that had her realizing how exhausted she had been then.

She switched off the lamp and fell back on the bed. The impact had shaken her to the bone and Hange found herself sinking into the mattress. She was happy to let it swallow her then.

The night was surprisingly bright. Yet, at the same time it had been a dark night, she was sure. She traced the sources of the light on the ceiling above. The light painted triangles, squares and straight cut angles. There were spots from other sources, maybe where the moon bounced on some glass objects.

Hange was too exhausted to sit up to see those refractions for herself.

She may have been too exhausted then to type in front of a computer or even sit up in bed so instead, she continued to count spots, trace the dim weak rays in the ceiling of her room, as she traced them back to the wide window, all the way to the point where she would have to crane her head to see what lay beyond. She soon realized, she still wasn’t tired enough to doze off.

The gears in her brain continued to turn. And they had only started to turn faster with all the intricate patterns the moonlight had created as it shone through the wide window of her dormitory room.

Should she close the curtains so she could get a good night's sleep? That question only occupied her for a second or so before she thought of something else.

And maybe there are sensations that transcend our worldly experiences. Maybe there are emotions that transcend the constraints of time, place and life. It’s just a matter of believing that false bottom exists and embracing it when it breaks open.

But if these emotions transcended worldly experiences, if they transcended life, then they should be unfathomable, not worth the effort of understanding.

Hange though, had been a researcher for as long as she could remember. She had mottos. She had habits. She had unshakable ways of thinking.

Turning to her side was easy. It was a quick, comfortable movement and maybe she had done it to sleep better. Or maybe she had done it to just get a better angle of the stream of moonlight that entered through the window.

Her desk sat on a familiar angle. Her laptop was open but turned off. Her bag slung over the chair.

The stream from the moonlight shone over her canvas bag and down to the floor. It created a web of intricate patterns, patterns that had Hange hypnotized at that moment. They were angular yet they were round and it would have taken hours for Hange to trace them in her exhausted state.

Yet they were hypnotizing enough for her not to want to look away. So in an effort to keep up with the challenge the moonlight had given her at that moment, she continued to reflect as she traced at it with her eyes.

False bottoms. Sensations that transcend worldly experiences, Emotions that transcend the constraints of time and space.

“But if they are things that transcend human comprehension, then how do we make sense of them?”

Ironically, it had been in the most intricate of patterns that Hange saw the answer. It had been in something so mundane that Hange had to blink twice and question it for a second longer.

“Dreams?” Hange asked, barely a whisper.

If there’s something you don’t understand, go out and learn to understand it.

She didn’t understand Levi’s dreams. She didn’t understand how his mind worked. She didn’t understand the stories he had written out.

There were things she didn’t understand for sure but there were things she remembered.

And maybe all she needed to understand something, was the right amount of hints, the right amount of crumbs to make sense of it herself. Maybe all she needed was the review of related literature, the observations and her own analysis to write a conclusion.

The dreamcatcher hung aimlessly from her canvas bag like it always did. It had been something almost unnoticeable before. Only in the night when the moon shined on it, when it had etched a large shadow on the floor, possibly even a hundred times larger than the small keychain in her bag did Hange think about it again.

And she thought about it hard enough to reach for it from the side off her bed. She stretched her hand farther and farther and in the dark, her sense of distance may have been a little worse.

She thought she had been almost there and she was pulled back into that cruel reality in a single moment, with a loud painful thud.

“Ow!” Hange quickly got up, a result of that adrenaline rush from the harrowing experience of a painful fall from her bed. She unfastened the dream catcher from her bag, on the way back to the bed, she grabbed her phone, her earphones and sat on her bed.

That time, she eased herself onto the bed and under the covers.

She held the dreamcatcher above her, tracing the purple, the green. She knew they were purple and green but under the moonlight they seemed almost blue, and maybe she could have even mistaken the purple and green for one another.

Her only hint to the shades after all were the way they reflected the moonlight on themselves.

Eventually, her arms got tired, still aching from that painful fall. She slipped the dream catcher under her pillow and turned on her side. She put one earphone on her left ear, another on her right and she turned on her phone and shuffled her music.

The dormitory was silent with everyone gone for the holidays.

Eerily silent. She was used to living alone, it wasn’t anything new. But recently, she had frequently found herself missing him, maybe missing her parents, she started to realize the silence, the isolation that came with it was almost unbearable.

So maybe she had been listening to music, maybe she had been talking to herself a little more.

And those dreams, they probably would help. Hange thought to herself as she set her phone to her side, a good distance from the edge of the bed.

She had dreamt enough to know, she couldn’t control dreams. But if they did come, they would come in hints, puzzle pieces and maybe something she could easily write down in the morning.

So she willed them to come in that silent night. She whispered to Commander Zoe. She pressed that dream catcher one more time.

Hange closed her eyes, adjusted the volume of the music and evened her breathing.

The dreams would choose when to come, if they chose to come at all. All she could do was trust in them.

***

Levi would have liked to blame the snow for his inability to concentrate.

It was fucking loud. The patter came too randomly, Levi struggled to find patterns in it. For a few seconds at a time, the snow would patter on the window in big loud waves. Other times, the snow came in plip plops reminiscent of a rainy spring day. A few times, it shifted to something slow and gentle Levi could have used it to lull himself to sleep.

It was a piece of music on rubato, and the musician was just a little too keen on leaving his audience unhinged.

And just that quick thought at least absolved Levi of any blame. He didn’t feel too much self loathing then. Just utter frustration and maybe a pinch of sadness.

The document in front of him was just a mish mash black words on white paper and for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine they could be anything else. The top section was descriptive, very descriptive that he should have been able to do so much as to smell the whore house. He should have been able to grieve the loss of a mother.

But it was just black on white.

So Levi scrolled down three pages to find a source of investment elsewhere. He found vivid descriptions of life on a wheelchair, a frequented grave but for the life of him, he couldn’t even imagine the large tree above, or the vivid descriptions of airplanes on the blue sky.

But it was just words on paper.

“What do you think?” Hange asked. She looked at him expectantly. “It’s not a lot… I’ve just been working on this in between my thesis and I don’t have much going for me but my own memories… But I rewrote some bullet points while I was trying to remember it and I just thought you know if I put my own writings in between what you have so far...maybe it could help you process it.”

“Process... it?”

“But if you don’t wanna think about it, it’s fine.”

Remember? Levi wanted to remember. Those weren’t black pixels on white pixels, conveniently strung together to make symbols. They were vivid descriptions of another world, another life for sure. But why couldn’t he bring himself to invest in it… Anymore?

“Maybe I just need a break,” Levi set aside the laptop on the side table and leaned back on the bed.

“You’re tired, injured. You could even get sick,” Hange said. “I don’t expect you to think too much of it, I just thought it would help pass the time.” She looked away guiltily.

“I’m not angry about you forcing me to get my knee checked again. Jumping in the dead of winter with a sprained knee was a stupid move.”

“I know it was. But I also know you’re probably tired of hospitals already.”

“I am tired of hospitals. But you were right. When they tested my knee, it didn’t feel right. I’m pretty sure I tore something again.”

“It was swelling… And I knew we could have just iced it but, you know you jumped pretty high, you ran pretty fast, it’s kinda scary you did that with your knee... In the middle of winter of all times of the year? God---Levi, What were you thinking? Armin told me he’d stop by the field to pick up Mikasa’s things so you know if I didn’t go out to meet him just in case he got lost, I probably wouldn’t have made it. At least Armin had half the mind to text me when you wouldn’t listen to him…” Hange trailed off. “But I wish I had arrived earlier, maybe I could have stopped you.”

“You wouldn’t have convinced me not to jump,” Levi said.

“Why do you say that?”

“No one would have convinced me. I was dead set on jumping that one last time.”

“Why did you wanna jump?”

“Closure.” It was a simple answer to a simple question. But as Levi enunciated each syllable, he became a little self conscious about how pretentiously short that answer had been. It was closure, he was sure but there were layers to that answer he couldn’t comprehend for himself in that moment.

Hange seemed to sense it too. She narrowed her eyes at him and opened her mouth ready to speak before she closed it again and let her eyes fall on the hospital bed. “Couldn’t you find closure elsewhere? Did you have to risk your knee for it?”

“What do you know? ” Levi ran his eyes over his thighs and up to his knee propped on a few pillows. He started to feel the beginnings of guilt a second later. His intention never was to offend.

What do you know? That question had been for him.

You didn’t live your whole college life jumping only to end up in a state where you can barely walk. Was that what Hange heard? Maybe. She looked like she did. After all, she was blushing then. As if she had been aware of that slight vulnerability, she bit her lip, looked away and stretched out over the side of the bed to get back her laptop.

Levi felt obligated to reassure her. “You know I don’t intend to jump again. I wish I could. But I think that last jump helped me accept that that part of my life is over.”

“So, what next?” Hange asked. “Erwin mentioned you could get surgery to fix the partial tear.”

Levi shook his head. “And skip more school then hope I can jump again? The surgery isn't necessary. The knee can heal on its own.”

“But what about other---”

“Jumping opportunities? Other athletic opportunities? I said, that part of my life is over.”

“You had a lot of talent you know.”

“You’re not the first person to say that.”

Hange managed a smile, a smile that was far from happy. But at the least, it could be contagious. “Then it was an honor to see you fly that one last time Captain Levi.”

Levi could have sworn he saw something glisten as she crinkled her eyes, a supplement to her wry smile. “I was never the captain of my team. You know that,” he said.

“That wasn’t what I meant---” Hange had been meaning to finish, or at least she looked like it. The knock on the door though had been loud and it tore through that soft conversation.

Hange stood up from her seat and opened the door slowly.

“Erwin told me you too would be here. I finished up early today so I thought I’d pop in.”

Levi nodded in greeting. He had been too ashamed to say anything else. But he was determined at least to show some respect.

“It looks like you two are talking again. Doctor Erwin told me what happened and I thought…” The moment Kuchel made eye contact with Levi, her eyes widened. “Levi… You…”

Levi found himself particularly self conscious then, he looked down at his thick sweater, at his knee. “I sprained my knee again.”

Kuchel was quick to recover. “I noticed that much,” she said. “I was talking about…” She gave him a long awkward onceover. She shook her head.

She wasn’t the only one who seemed uncomfortable then. Hange hadn’t looked back at him since Kuchel had entered the room. Her whole disposition had somehow changed in that few seconds.

“You okay?” Levi asked.

Hange didn’t answer. She booted her laptop again and angled it towards Kuchel who had approached them and set a chair next to his bed.

“It looks like you managed to let go already Captain Levi.” Kuchel said, as she cocked her head to the side and smiled.

Captain Levi. The words whispered once again inside him, too softly Levi found it easy to brush it away. “You know, you were right. The emotions would leave on their own. It still hurts but I don’t see any reason to fight it if I know it’s gonna heal eventually. That’s how closure is supposed to feel like right?”

Shela shook her head. “Closure manifests differently for each person. But it’s normal to forget when you accept. Sometimes we find ourselves forgetting why we were ever sad at all. Or sometimes we just forget the details. Or sometimes it just feels like everything was all just a bad dream.”

“These past few months since the injury, they’re starting to blur together like some dream.” He turned to Hange who was starting to seem more and more uncomfortable. He chose that moment to reflects and he started to wonder why he had even avoided her in the first place. His next few words came out automatically “ I’m sorry what I did, and about our fight last month, I wasn’t angry about the injury if that’s what you think,” Levi said. The apology came out of nowhere, it felt misplaced. He started realize that maybe he should have given that apology much earlier.

Why then?

Hange had heard the apology for sure, but maybe she had just chosen to ignore it. “But Levi, you wrote these right? These dreams?” Hange said, as if she had taken his stare then as some cue to speak. She turned to Kuchel and to Levi, her movements seemed desperate then. She had at least kept some composure in her expression.

“I wrote them out,” Levi said. “But to be honest... I’m starting to forget why I did.”

"Emotions and dreams fickle things. They come and go when they please but sometimes we wanna keep them on record so we could relive it and process it. That’s why if you wanna grasp it and preserve it before it leaves... If you wanna be able to relive it, you have to write it down. This is why I ask all my patients to write things out. "

"Levi did." Hange turned to Levi. You wrote everything down right? You showed me a while ago, you wrote this and this… Shela, if they were his dreams, his emotions...he was writing it"

Shela’s expression was unmoving. "Those dreams weren’t supposed to be his. Maybe that's why they had been just a little more fickle. Who knows? Maybe Captain Levi just took it back already.”

“Why take it back?” Hange asked

“Maybe he fulfilled his unfinished business. Maybe he found closure.”

“But Levi you should have remembered writing it? You’ve been on it for months. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten these last three months right?”

“I haven’t,” Levi said reassuringly.

“Then why aren’t you thinking about it anymore. Why am I the one thinking about it for you?” Hange pressed. There was a crack in her voice and Hange looked ready to slam her laptop on the floor.

“I remember writing it. I’m just wondering for myself why I wrote it out in the first place. Maybe because I didn’t have much to do. I got injured, I was stuck at home and you know, those days in your apartment, those days stuck in the dorm, they just blended together.”

“But you weren’t just indoors… We went out to the mountains. You were telling me these stories and you were telling me how Commander Hange was like. Levi, I felt things. I remembered all of it. You can’t just leave me hanging like this---”

Shela cleared her throat, uncharacteristically louder than usual. “You know, you seem more relaxed now. How does it feel Levi? Does it feel like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders? Like you walk up from a bad dream?"

Levi nodded. "I'm just wondering why I'm exhausted."

“Of course you’re exhausted, you jumped while injured in the middle of winter. But relaxed is still a different feeling altogether, particularly compared to you the past few months. When I look at you now, you seem… freer?”

Freer? Levi shrugged. When had he ever been trapped?  

For a while the room had been silent and it was Hange who broke it. "Levi, I wrote everything out, about what happened to Captain Levi in the survey corps. You may have deleted the file but I remembered them. These were your stories. These were the dreams you had. Hell, if Kuchel’s theory is correct, these are memories from your past life."

To humor Hange more than anything, Levi reread the bullet points and the effort quickly proved futile. They were bullet points of events, they could have been a timeline that Levi couldn’t for the life of him make sense of it. And he found himself a little annoyed at her tenacity.

“You still have a lot to write Hange, even I can’t make sense of it,” Kuchel said from behind. She gave Hange a reassuring pat.

The pout on Hange’s face, the way it had darkened into something similar to disappointment, had Levi almost guilty. Her emotions ran deeper than disappointment, he was sure. And for a second or so, Hange seemed crestfallen, ready to leave the room. The only thing tying her to the room then could have been her own strong penchant for seeking answers,

“You think you’ll be able to write again?” Hange asked. She looked like she could have said more. It was as if squeezing out that one sentence had sapped all energy out of her.

Levi shrugged. “Maybe I will.”

“When?”

“When the inspiration comes again.”

***

When will the inspiration come again? Hange always asked good questions and if she asked a question that couldn’t be answered, she always had an explanation to follow. Or at the least, she knew how to phrase questions in a way that could get answers.

Levi couldn’t answer and Hange wasn't helping him either. The tense silence that followed, loomed exclusively over the two of them. Although the conversation had shifted to a dialogue between Levi and Kuchel, even when Hange had kept quiet, pulling her focus back on her laptop in front of her, or her phone, the tension never left.

Levi had attempted to cut at it by focusing on Kuchel. He had provided a long drawn out explanation of his own emotions for Kuchel and in return, Kuchel had provided a long drawn out interpretation of his explanations.

Maybe drawing the conversation out longer than expected was unnecessary. In the end, the only take home Levi had for himself then was that the past few months were a blur and any effort to make sense of it would be completely futile.

Kuchel left them both in the silence, mentioning something about another meeting. Alone in the room, in the tense silence continued to haunt. It was Hange who spoke up again asking that same question. “When will inspiration come again?”

“You sound pretty fixated on my inspiration. Maybe you should write the end for yourself then.” The sudden acceptance had Levi relaxing on the bed soon after Kuchel had left the room.

“It’s not about writing… This story in particular, it meant a lot to me too.”

“I’m sure it meant a lot. It meant a lot to me too but weirdly, I just don’t care about it as much as I used to.”

“What about us?”

“What do you mean ‘about us?’”

“About us… The past few things you were writing the story and you were talking about Commander Hange and Captain Levi. That was about us right?”

“You heard my answer to Kuchel, it was a blur.”

“No, I meant about us in the past few months. Are you angry with me? Do you want me out of your life?”

“You wanna leave?.”

“No it’s not that. It’s just…” Hange breathed out, shaking her head in disbelief. “You didn’t talk to me for weeks.”

Levi looked away, hiding the wince in his face. “I told you, I’m sorry I don’t even remember why I did it.”

“So do you want me here?”

“Yes, I don't want you to leave, I thought it was obvious.”

“Well it looks like it wasn’t so obvious, I thought you’d want me to leave. You didn’t reply to any of my messages and I remembered, we’ve only known each other for months.”

“I think 'months' are more than enough for me to realize that I want you here. For a long time. Maybe longer than that.” Maybe even forever.

Did he say that ‘forever’ part out loud? He didn’t expect Hange’s smile then.

Her eyes were wide open, her lips curled up into a big smile. The overall expression on her face had seemed unreadable. She could have been mocking him, she could have been freaked out or she could have been that good balance between surprised and happy “So what are you saying? We’re soulmates?” She asked.

“You don’t believe in soulmates,” Levi said. The facade of disconnect was hurriedly done, consequently, it felt almost shoddy.

“Fate?”

“You told me yourself, you don’t believe in fate either.

“I don’t.”

“It was a choice right? Everything that brought us to this point was all just borne of choice. You made the choice to work for me, I made the choice to cooperate and here we are.” Levi felt a hand slip under his and it grabbed him from underneath. Levi didn’t have to look down to comprehend it, Hange’s face had said it all.

“But you know, I’m starting to believe in this abstract thing called soulmates. And this other abstract thing called fate,” she said

“Aren’t you a researcher?”

“I have the evidence, Levi. Someone has been coming into my dreams too and she’s been telling me about you.”

“You know, they must have been some really good dreams if they convinced you to believe in them.

“They were. They really were. And you know what, they only keep coming.”

Levi had closed his eyes long before then. And the patter on the window had mellowed to something rhythmic and along the way it had softened altogether. Whether it had been due to the even patter or through her own volition, Hange had stopped talking, her breath had evened out.

And when Levi started to dream again, the shift had been too gradual, too kind. The dreams weren’t loud, they didn't demand attention. They didn’t make themselves known. When Levi opened his eyes again, the idea that he had fallen asleep had seemed almost surreal, unbelievable.

“You can go back to sleep,” Hange said. She seemed focused on something on her laptop again.

Levi looked out the window, the sky was dark but the snow continued to fall.

“Erwin told us we could stay another night.”

“Why?”

“We’re completely snowed in.”

“Okay,” Levi said. He had attempted to go back to sleep and it had only proved frustratingly unsuccessful. The confusion at having the view by the window so suddenly shift from sky blue to complete black still had him disoriented.

So he found orientation in Hange’s concentrated look then and the white of the screen reflected in her glasses. Even behind the glare, her long lashes were noticeable, her hazel brown eyes could still be traced, the shades of brown discerned. So he continued to looked, and he had managed to pass the time much more quickly.

“How are you feeling?” Hange asked as she looked up at him. The glare of the screen disappeared from her glasses and Levi found himself unable to respond for a second longer as he appreciated the unmarred view of her eyes then.

It was a lucid view of her then that sent a pang of regret through him. It was quick and if Levi didn’t let it wash through him then, if he didn’t give it full control over him in that moment, maybe he would have never remembered it happened, maybe he would have never remembered to appreciate Hange then.

“I feel like I just had one long dream,” Levi said. maybe the dreams could have explained the slight pang of regret then. But they were too far off already for Levi to look back on. So he surrendered quickly and kept silent.

Hange didn’t hesitate to take the reins of the conversation. “I was writing.”

“About what?”

“About your dreams. I'm trying to remember what else you wrote.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t think you ever gave names to the two titans you caught for me."

Titans? Levi couldn't follow the conversation. With nothing else much to contribute, he nodded.

Hange continued. “So I named them myself.”

“What did you name them?” Levi asked, an attempt to humor her more than anything.

Hange’s face had curled to a smile as she spoke and she opened her mouth a little bit, exposing her teeth underneath. She seemed to be enjoying it. “Their names are Sonny and Bean"

Somehow, Levi was starting to get invested too. “Hey Hange, since we’re gonna be stuck here for a while, maybe you can tell me what a titan is.”

[kpopfanfictrash]

Canvas

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook 

Word Count: 1,470

Rating: PG-13

Summary: An accompanying drabble to The Holi-Date. This drabble takes place after the events of The Holi-Date and follows Jungkook (a side character) + attending an art class and drawing nude models. 

[ PART OF MY JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY DRABBLE GAME ]

Adjusting the easel before him with one hand, Jungkook concentrated on the blank sheet of canvas and not on what lay beyond.

An entirely nude model spread out on the chaise.

Jungkook had decided to take this class on a whim; it had been recommended to him by Taehyung and really, he should’ve known better. Taehyung tended to have a chaotic streak masked beneath that uber-straight-faced exterior. Still, when Jungkook had mentioned wanting to try out an art class, in order to better understand the work he curated, he had never suspected Taehyung might lead him this far astray.

It wasn’t that Jungkook had a problem with nudity, per se. He was fine with it and obviously, he liked being naked with certain people, but to have a stranger so brazenly displayed like the model before him – Jungkook couldn’t help it; he blushed.

Dabbing his paintbrush in the cup of water before him, Jungkook chanced another glance at the model.

She was attractive, which he found to be part of the problem. At the start of the class, their instructor had recommended separating the model from their painting, but Jungkook found this advice to be somewhat contrary. His favorite works at the museum were those which captured the humanity of their subject; those which solidified the intangible with paint.

It was one thing to accurately display a likeness on canvas. It was another thing entirely to convey a soul, to grant another person insight through a window unseen.

Hesitant, Jungkook lifted his gaze from the canvas again.

The model’s gaze remained fixated on a point over his head and somehow, this made Jungkook relax just a little. Oddly enough, he felt like he was the one on display, not the model. The fact that she was entirely open about her nakedness wasn’t what made Jungkook embarrassed. More embarrassing was the fact that looking at her made Jungkook realize he could never do the same.

Frowning at this, Jungkook fiddled with his brush. When he glanced to either side, he saw both of his neighbors were well underway. It seemed no one else had spent the first twenty minutes of class having an existential crisis over the fact that they’d never dropped trou for a room full of people.

Forcing himself to look once more at the model, Jungkook refused to blink until his eyes watered a bit. He made himself see her – truly see her – until some of the novelty began to wear off.

There; that felt a bit better.

Teeth gritted, he bent and made his first broad stroke on canvas. The teacher had gone over different techniques at the beginning of class; how to hold their brush, how to angle their bristles to create different textures. How fast you needed to paint at some points of the painting; how slowly at others.

From what Jungkook had gathered, this wasn’t a beginner’s class. Again, he cursed Kim Taehyung in his mind. Well, Taehyung would see who got the last laugh when Jungkook banished Vante’s next exhibit to the museum’s back alley, or something.

Actually – Jungkook tilted his head. He might be onto something there.

A teaching assistant had set up their easel before him, showcasing the students how he laid out the model on canvas. Jungkook glanced at this for a moment before he finally began.

In time, his wrist gradually loosened, posture relaxing as Jungkook fell into a rhythm between brush and canvas. He grew less awkward with each glance at the model until eventually, his gaze was as bold as she’d been when she dropped her robe.

By the end of the hour, Jungkook had to shake himself free when the instructor called for them to stop.

“Paintbrushes down!” she said, clapping her hands. “I’ll see you all back here next week to continue – please place your canvases on the drying racks in the next room. You should clean up your stations according to the instructions on the board. Thank you!”

Jungkook busied himself with said instructions and by the end, he felt vaguely pleased as he untied his apron. His painting wasn’t the best in the room, but it was by no means the worst among those on the drying racks.

Assuaged by this fact, Jungkook adjusted his sweatshirt as he turned, nearly tripping when he ran into the model behind him.

“Oh!” he blurted, hair flopping forward as he straightened himself. “S-sorry!”

Noticing his stammer, the model just smiled. “It’s okay,” she laughed, ducking her head. “I kind of snuck up on you there.”

“I – well, yeah,” Jungkook said, a bit embarrassed.

He forced himself to look only at her eyes, and not on the curves he knew lay beneath her clothes. The determined way he stared must have given him away though, since she knowingly smiled and – oddly enough – did not look displeased.

Jungkook belatedly registered this.

“This was your first time in class, right?” she asked with a slight tilt of her head. “I don’t remember seeing you here before.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook managed to nod. “I’ve actually uh, never taken an art class before… I only draw in my spare time. When I have the time, that is. I’m a curator at the Art Museum? Do you know it?”

Looking vaguely amused by his question, she nodded.

Jungkook nearly face-palmed. Of course, she knew it – this woman modeled for a fucking art class. Cheeks feeling about the same temperature as the sun, Jungkook wished the earth would open and swallow him whole.

Unfortunately, the earth refused to listen and remained stubbornly solid.

“Anyways,” she said, tucking her bag close to her chest. “You’ve got a really solid attention span. Very focused. Very deep.”

The corner of her mouth quirked, as though she were laughing with him, not at him and Jungkook felt a strange sort of buzz in the back of his throat. Was she flirting with him? The answer seemed like yes, but Jungkook had left the museum so little recently, it had become hard to tell. Everything about dating felt rusty and strange.

Hell, he hadn’t even managed to work up the courage to ask out the girl he had a crush on. Admittedly, Mina had just broken up with her dickwad fiancé and was in no place to date, but Jungkook wouldn’t even know how to go about asking her out if he wanted.

Eyeing the model before him, Jungkook straightened his spine. She seemed nice, was very pretty and had actually sought him out at the end of the class. Jungkook usually wasn’t the type to casually date, but wasn’t that why he’d sought out this class in the first place? To broaden his horizons, try something new and gain different experiences.

“I didn’t think that you’d notice,” he finally said with a smile. “You were so busy staring at the wall over my head.”

“You really were absorbed in your painting, huh?” Gently, she laughed. “I was actually scolded by my boss for missing the time I was supposed to turn.”

Jungkook blinked. “Turn?”

“Mhm,” she said with a conspiratorial wink. “I’m supposed to turn around halfway through class. I didn’t, though. I wanted to keep facing you.”

Jungkook found his mouth had gone suddenly dry. “You did?”

He was aware he sounded a bit like a parrot, but he’d never been very good at the small talk thing. Give Jungkook a museum and he could talk your ear off, but every day wordplay and chitchat? No good. 

Maybe he could get better, though.

“Yeah,” she said, fiddling again with her bag. “I saw your painting of me and thought it was nice!” Bashful, she smiled. “Will you be here again next week?”

Jungkook, who had been at the start of class seriously considering not returning, felt something entirely different unfold in his chest.

“Yeah,” he said, hair falling into his gaze when he nodded. “I think that I will.”

She smiled and turned, walking out the door and Jungkook was left all alone in the room. He fixated on the podium for a moment, wondering if he’d ever feel bold enough to be a model himself.

It seemed near-impossible, but then again, Jungkook would’ve deemed this entire class to be impossible mere hours ago. He’d been stuck in the same place for so long that any sort of change seemed inconceivable. That didn’t mean it couldn’t happen, though – after all, two new things had happened to him in one day. Who was he to say what would happen tomorrow?

Feeling slightly more excited about next week’s class, Jungkook turned on his heel and he walked out the door.

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

IMPORTANT NOTICE

[Please read this, it’s important.]

//Hey everyone, it’s the mod here.

//In case it wasn’t already obvious, I need to make a very relevant announcement, because it relates to the future of this blog. 

//I did mention beforehand that I would be making this announcement, and whether or not it’s good or bad remains to be seen.

//I will say outright that I don’t plan on stopping the blog. I am determined to see this series all the way to the end, even if it takes me ages. And I know there have been many times that I’ve had to delay, or cut short posts because of personal reasons, and I cannot thank the people who follow this blog enough for continuing to read my stuff, despite all of this.

//Hence why today’s announcement is so important. I don’t know exactly how long ago it was, but between a few weeks and a month ago, I said I was going to delay the start of the current arc because of a personal thing I was dealing with. I then had to delay it longer because I got sick with COVID-19.

//I didn’t really shed any details about what that was, because I didn’t think it relevant, and thought it quite personal, but now that I’m officially in this phase, my situation is now going to affect my writing, so I’d rather make clear what it is to the followers of the story, so that we can all be on the same page.

//Tomorrow, I will be starting university.

//This is a big deal. My life is transitioning into a new phase, and with it comes many more challenges, but also many more opportunities. 

//I’ll be studying animation for those who are curious. Perhaps I may be able to use some of the things I’ve learned on the blog? Who knows?

//Anyhow, the point is that I received my timetable, and in case it wasn’t already obvious, I am going to be very busy and jam-packed with assignments right from Day 1.

//So in order to make time for the blog, I have to rearrange some things relating to the schedule, and I would like to very quickly talk about this. I will be implementing some new rules for the followers and askers.

//THESE ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE. Since I have yet to start Uni, I don’t actually know the full proceedings of my timetable, or what times I have available to myself. But for now, let’s go with it.

1: IT’S LIKELY I WILL NEED TO TAKE THURSDAY’S OFF AS WELL.

//As most of you know, I don’t do anything relating to the blog on Tuesday’s. The reason was because I started this blog back when I was in college, and Tuesday’s were days where I got home late in the evening, and couldn’t write because I didn’t have the energy.

//My current university timetable tells me that BOTH Tuesday’s AND Thursday’s will be the same case. My classes supposedly end at 9pm on those days, which I think is extraordinarily late to get out of class, but all the same, it’s usually the time that I write things for the blog.

//I simply won’t be able to make time for blog stuff on these days, so unless I get any further notice about my timetable, I won’t be able to do anything for the blog on Tuesday and Thursday.

2: CHANGES ARE GOING TO BE MADE TO SPRITE EDIT REQUESTS.

//As most of you probably already know, I’m not against creating sprites or sprite edits for the blog. Doing so is not only fun, but also helps enhance my drawing and ability to use programs like Photoshop.

//However, it’s become unfortunately clear to me that many people overestimate my ability, and send through requests that require me to completely change the characters outfit, hairstyle, just basically everything about it.

//To be honest, I simply do not have the time to go through all of these sprite edits I’ve been sent and make them. It’s far too much effort for something that happens way too often.

//As of such, I’m making some new rules regarding sprite edits, and that rule dictates if I deem a request for an edit too arduous, or too time consuming, I will delete it, and not answer the question.

//I know it’s not fair, and I know it’s hard to tell what edits are and aren’t low effort for me, but I am a single person with a limited range of talent and capability. I cannot handle to dubious amount of work I’m given, especially now I’m going to be crushed under assignments and everything of the like thanks to my new school.

3: TIME I SPEND ANSWERING ASKS IN THE EVENINGS WILL DECREASE.

//Usually, when I answer asks in the evenings, I tend to start at 9pm and answer asks until 10:30pm. On days where I’m tired, I usually knock that down to about 1 hour instead.

//Now, I feel the 1 hour mark will be a permanent thing I need to implement, meaning on most days I will only be doing 1 hours worth of answering.

//Emphasis however on MOST days. As I said already, Thursdays are out of the question depending on how my timetable shapes up in the end. I will probably do my regular format on Friday’s and weekends.

//This one probably matters the least, I just wanted to let people know in case they were curious.

//That’s all for now. I’ll repeat again, if it ends up being that my timetable goes through any last minute changes and we can simply go through the format we’re going through now, then I will make a future post explaining that.

//I apologize greatly if this ends up being an inconvenience for some. I know I’ve done this a lot, and I hope you can find it in you to understand that living two kinds of life is difficult.

-Mod