#They care for each other... somewhere deep inside... I guess... xD

[natalchartnurtures]

Pick-A-Tarot Meme! What Are Your Person's Thoughts About You?

~~~~~~~<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3~~~~~~~<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3~~~~~

Cuz we can't have enough of these :p

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Pile 1:

Gosh pile one.. your person seems to be soooooooo IN THEIR HEAD about you right now.. like i got so dizzy as i started your reading wtf like what's happening here? Let's find out together yea?

Mmm ok. It seems like they have FeElingS for you but it's like.. their feelings are causing them to get in their head? Maybe their terrified of emotional vulnerability or something?

Pile 1, is your person a tough cookie or likes to present as one? Cuz if so you're the one who cracks them!

You'll be the one who gets through to their heart and they low key know thiss somewhere at the back of their mind and.. I guess THAT'S WHY they're feeling so utterly anxious. They don't wanna fuck it up this connection I hear. I'm also getting that your person doesn't really feel much for people in general like if at all even. They're giving me aromantic energy ooooor maybe they've just been really closed off to romance maybe cuz of some really and I mean REALLY bad experiences.

But. Something about you. Just. Unlocked. something inside of them and now they're FREAKING OUT lol. They're all "this wasn't part of the plan what the hell!" But in cute way lmao.

I see them veiwing you as a bit of a tower moment in their life right now and I'm not sure they're enjoying it very much. They may limit interaction with you at this point in time or if yall are together/dating they maybe a more defensive than usual but this is because they feel out of control (since they attach control with no feelings) cuz they genuinely care and could love you (like crazy)

Wow. Um this person doesn't have thoughts about you. They have mental breakdowns and panick attacks about you 😂😂😭😭 (it's not funny, but it kinda is 🙃)

This person prolly never felt this way (or expected to) about somebody and now it seems as if they're jus.. spazzing lol. They maybe an air moon or air dominant (especially low octave Aquarius energy) cuz these people tend to spazz when they catch feelings XD

Like they're having mental spasms and they don't know what to do when it comes to you. They seem like they're a fish out of water when it comes to you..

Broooo but when they're not busy spazzing abour you and their feelings for you.. they have deep passionate thoughts, mostly at nighttime, when this person feels safe I heard. Ooh. Interesting. Yea they're soooooo attracted to you and your body (lmao) they drool from the wet dreams they have about you 🤣 but I don't think you know this (which is why youre here reading this PAC lol)

Also bro. this person LOVES you. Loves everything about you. Oh it's so precious. I hope they heal whatever wound that's stopping them from being with you cuz they genuinely want to be with you (their words not mine) no matter how much they try to deny it- out of whatever fear they're experiencing.. but yea let's hope your person finds the courage they need to heal so they can make their way towards you!

Love and light, to you my friend and thanks for reading!

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Pile 2:

Ah it's my romantic pile 🥰

They love to think about you like all day, everyday.. I'm sitting and stirring in the energy of this person's love for you rn and man.. it's so NICE and warm and fuzzy and just.. pure. This person has probably thought about your future together and fantasized about you in every possible scenario when it comes to ya'lls life together. Very cute, pile 2. They have most of their thoughts at nighttime? Even though they spend alllll day thinking of you, it usually amplifies at night. I see them basking in their delicious feels for you (awwww stop this is way too cute!)

BRO they daydream about cuddling you! (you didn't hear it from me 🙃😉) ahhhhh they love the thought of you in their hoodie just basking in the bliss yall feel together for each other.. gosh so precious!! ><

It's like they think you complete them.. like you're their other half..

Bro. Wtf. I just heard the name Jake Gyllenhaal? Idk take that if it resonates lmao

AH I'm also hearing Sunset Blvd By Selena Gomez?

And Rare by Selena Gomez too so take them if you feel like it's significant for you :)

Ok! I'm getting something interesting now.. pile 2, arr you in a situationship with this person? Or maybe a friendship but yall caught feelings and now things are kinda awkward? Or maybe they tried to push you away and chose themselves over this connection at some point? Whatever the case, there seems to be HISTORY between the both of ya'll. And whatever went down, TRUST ME your person is feeling terrible about it. I see them process you guy's past through their thoughts and I see them becoming aware of everything did (or didn't do) in this connection and I see them taking accountability! Don't we love a self-aware king/queen? Lovely news! They want to be with you! Like you're front and center in their mind right now and they're gonna do everything in their power to not only clear up things with but also begin something brand new with you. If you guys are looking for a relationship then that would mean that this person will reach out and ask you out for the first time 👀

They'll be doing this at their own speed lol (differs for everybody reading)

Or.. say if you're just looking for closure then I see this person reaching out for a heart to heart after a few days/weeks of laying low for a bit. For this to be coming out rn.. I think that they're thinking about this right now as you're reading this. Ooh exciting heheheheheheheh

I love this for you pile, 2!

Love and light, to you my friend thanks for reading!

____

Pile 3:

Ooh.. pile 3, your person is doing some serious thinking! Phew! Let's get in.

Most of their thoughts are about your softness.. they find it really healing tbh.. they absolutely love how they can be themselves around you and you receive them just as they are. Plain and simple. Ah. It nourishes them. They think of you as a comforting figure who is the human embodiment of a big warm loving hug. Aw pile 3, this is lovely energy. I'm hearing the song- By Your Side by Sade so check it out if you feel called to!

You're a place of respite for this person tbh. This person thinks that you're a wonderful person to talk to (about literally anything!) Bestie vibes tbh BUT this pile has such a sutble and sweet romantic vibe underneath the friendly tenderness (if your asking about a romantic interest) that is shared among the two of you when you connect. I heard that they think you're not like the other people they've met before. So maybe they've met a lot of people who didn't care about them or maybe their childhood lacked a certain quality of love and care which.. you give to this person. And they honestly can't be more grateful to you for that. Aw. This warms my heart. It's kinda sad but it's sooo precious too?

You make them wanna care about people again. You make them wanna care about life again. You make them wanna LOVE AGAIN.

You've managed to build a space for this person to feel safe and this has been a rare commodity in this person's life like I cannot stress that enough, pile 3. Pat yourself on the back please you've done a wonderful job here :)

You're so patient and loving with them it's almost as if it's otherworldly... angelic almost.

You make them wanna truly believe again. Ah. So beautiful. They hold a lot of reverence and respect for you and your mind. They love how you function. They love you. A lot it seems like.

Love and light, to you my friend thanks for reading

____

[partywithoutsmiling]

I seen somewhere in here that Poppy is using branch's old jacket because she missed him, so how does branch feels about that when they see each other again

He is very taken aback by it XD

I dont think I elaborated on their reunion (Branch's and Poppy's), but Branch returns to Pop Village after Chef comes and ruins the Anniversary Party

Seeing the mess- and finding trolls in his Bunker (which he had expected to be abandoned and unsafe), he is suddenly confronted with his biggest fear. While traveling- wandering- it was easy to sort of 'forget' about Bergens. Yes, they were still very real, but they were not his primary issue to worry about for quite a while.

Now, however, the reality sets back in. He hadn't actually meant to come and stay in Pop Village- his main reason for returning is to answer a question that burned deep inside him for a while (And that is, he had finally met the Funk Trolls and he spied the Crown Prince Darnell- and realized he looked like Cooper)

Listening and observing, it was quickly apparent that the Royal Funk family is mourning the disappearance of another son, and Branch correctly guessed that Cooper is the one who was lost. And since Branch is a softy deep down, he decided to come back to Pop Village if only confirm to himself that Cooper really is the lost prince.

He had every intention to leave after that and seek out audience with the King and Queen of Funk to told them about his findings, but he got waylaid by the Plot XD

(Part of him hoped to see Poppy again; there were nights, when he thought about her and wondered what she was up to) (Did she notice he left) (Did she even care)

So learning that Poppy set out on her own to Bergen town actually spurs him to follow faster than in the Movie, and with no time for doubts (And it helps that by this point, he owns a rock critter bike, so traveling is a breeze)

Poppy also, contrary to her movie counterpart, was actually able to get to Bergen Town unscathed, as she did read Branch's survival journals and was definitelly more catious going into the wilderness.

They manage to run into each other right before the tunnel network- and yes, Branch has a bit of a whiplash from seeing Poppy in Floyd's/His old leaf vest

Conflicting emotions really, as his relationship with Floyd is rocky still but better than at the time of their reunion, but also, there is something that makes him ache seeing Poppy in the vest. He very uncomfortably gets reminded of his younger self, wearing the vest all the time as the physical evidence of Floyd's promise to come back- and while Branch made no such promises, let alone to Poppy, seeing her wear it does feel like he broke one

[kunikiiida-kuuun]

Hey, Kris!! Yes, I did notice that Ango is one of your faves, you're one of the few people I see talking about him! He is very underrated, indeed. I'm pretty excited for his part this season, too! His dynamic with Dazai is actually really interesting, how they're both dealing with their guilt over Odasaku's death and how that drives them.

I loved the first episode of S4! I'm so glad they decided to do untold origins! I love Fukuzawa and Ranpo so much and I think they're condensing the story pretty well so far. I really like the monochrome color aesthetic they went with, too. And those crumbs of baby assassin Odasaku! I don't think any of us are ready for the DOA arc to start, my Lord do anime-onlys have a storm coming sdfghjgfhj. Kuni's big moment is going to be very exciting, though! It's such a good hero moment, his absolute commitment to his ideals.

Also, sorry I missed your birthday again, I confused myself because I was late getting the post out last year dfghjhghj. I hope you've been well! And that you have time to watch S4 soon! *hug*

Hey Katie!! ❤️ Apologies for the late response >.< I was occupied with a lot of things but I'm a little more free now!!

Thank you once again for the Ango set you dedicated to me!! :D💕 I don't talk enough about him but Ango is definitely another interesting and very nuanced character in BSD!! I know Oda and Dazai have a special bond, but I like to believe that Dazai somewhere deep inside still cares about Ango, and is deeply hurt by the way things turned out. We'll even get to see Ango's unresolved guilt in this arc oof :') And their dynamic is certainly interesting and funny at the same time. Ango's trust in Dazai, even going to the lengths of lying because he asked him to...I wish we could see more of their interactions lmao. I want to see them open up to each other too but they're both a little emotionally constipated for that I guess ajsklfslfk.

I also really love the quote you used on the gif set you made!! Even if it was just for a moment, and even if the entire idea was impossible to begin with, Ango seemed to indulge in his feelings and forget about the reality for a second and the underlying hopelessness of it all... :')

I'm happy they went with the untold origins too!! It fits the narrative for the next arc and the episode looks great!! Fukuzawa and Ranpo have such a hilarious dynamic throughout the novel and of course baby assassin Odasaku crumbs are much appreciated 🫶

Omg you're so right?? It's truly impossible to be entirely prepared for the upcoming chaos the arc will bring (good luck to the anime-onlys LOL) :') I'm dreading and yet so excited to see Kunikida's heroic moment I don't know what to do with myself hnnnnhh🥲

Do you have any particular moments you're looking forward to? (Apart from the Fyodor vs Dazai chess board match reveal of course XD)

No worries Katie!! ^^💕 I very much appreciate that you decided to post something for me so thank you for the beautiful set 💖💖💖 I hope to see both the episodes in the next few days so I can go crazy in the tags discuss more freely about the episodes heheh! Warm hugs!!! ❤️

[akawrites000]

sunflowers, breaking clichés and faraway lovers

Hero trudges back home, her foot kicking up some mud on this lonely strip of road. She can't decide if she's happy or frustrated that nothing ever happens where she lives, not even villains, as if they don't find this place appealing enough to even visit.

She decides, after a moment, that maybe it's both. She's both happy that she doesn't have to deal with villains here, that this is the one constant place that she has in her life, and she's also a little frustrated that nothing ever happens here, and everywhere you see are familiar faces. She kind of wishes her town had the tradition to were masks like people in Jaoanese festivals do, so that it would at least bring some novelty into this place. Or she wishes that she can spot a new face somewhere, but the only face she wants to see right now is that of her partner's.

The wind blows to the left, and she turns to look. That's the path that leads to the sunflower field, one of her all time favourite places. She takes out her phone as the wind pushes her further to the field, holding the device in front of her face, trying to get a nice angle. Click. She opens villain’s chat and hits the send button, with a yellow heart emoji attached to the picture. She then sits down at the edge of the field, legs dangling, eyes taking in the spectacular view in front of her. This is probably the only place I'll never get tired of, even if it's the same ten years from now, she thinks.

Hero’s phone vibrates in her pocket, and she pulls it out to see a message from villain. She opens the chat — smiling softly.

V: This looks so beautiful!! Is this the sunflower field that you always talk about? Thank you for the picture baby💛

Hero takes a moment to swoon. She loves it when villain calls her baby, and she has a feeling that they know that too.

H: Yes it is, one of my favourite places ever! I wish I could show this to you someday.

There it is, hero thinks. This ache that mixes up with the bubbly feelings in her chest because her lover lives in an entirely different continent away from her and there's nothing either of them can do about it for now. It's this sizzling agony that's there right under her skin, keeping her awake at night sometimes.

V: That sounds lovely. I would love to see it.

And then hero’s smiling, grinning. So much that her cheeks start to hurt and those blue feelings inside her chest slowly melt away, leaving her with this happy, giddy haze. Somewhere inside, the logical part of her speaks — what is even happening ?

Hero ignores that and just stares at the wide expanse of the field in front of her, beautifully painted by the sun setting on the horizon behind. She lets her mind wander to villain, her lover whom she's never met but knows — because one doesn't have to meet to know someone right? Of course hero aches to meet them, just like all the lovers in ancient texts do. She's no different. So she tries to meet them in her imagination at least- one hand in their soft, brown hair, while the other cups their cheek, tender with that natural blush that drives her crazy; and then villain's hands are in her hair, tangling her long back strands but she can't find it in herself to care one bit —

Her phone buzzes again and hero’s pulled out of that soft world in her mind, back to the real one. Her eyes take in her surroundings once again, noticing the changes. The sky is inky blue, like deep ocean waters and the sun is nowhere to be seen . The sunflowers that were all looking at the sun like dedicated devotees, have now turned to look at their loved ones next to them instead, and settle in their arms for the night. Hero looks at her phone, her mind working in two angles — one thinking about this fact that she read about sunflowers somewhere while the other focuses on villain’s chat box.

V: You'll have to fight supervillain later this evening right?

Hero groans as she remembers her pressing duties to this city — fighting supervillains, protecting the civilians, being the symbol of justice. It's only in the short time that she spends with villain — in their chatbox, occasional phone calls, when she thinks of villain, that she feels like a normal twenty something, just living her life and falling in love with someone breathtakingly amazing.

H: You're always more updated about my schedule than I am xD But yeah, I have to.

Hero imagines villain’s mouth, unable to decide between their usual smirk or rare soft smiles. She wonders what expression they're wearing right now.

V: Of course I am. That's one thing technology is good for.

Hero chuckles, simply happy that villain even bothers to keep track of all of this.

V: Fight safely and vigilantly okay? Trust your gut feelings, they're always valid. Your feelings are always valid.

Hero clutches her phone tight in her hand, trying to bury her face into her own arms. Her heart performs this dance everytime villain does stuff like this, and she never knows how to handle it.

H: Thank you my love❤ I'm a little nervous of course, but I think I'll be okay. I can do this.

Hero knows there's no point in putting up a front or lying to villain. They always know somehow. And hero thinks that she doesn't want to lie — she's always putting up a front for the world, the people, her opponents. So she wants at least this one person in the entire world to know who she really is, in all her silly, anxious and raw glory.

V: You'll be fine baby. You're an amazing fighter and I believe in you.

Okay, that's it. Hero feels like her entire body is on fire and she forces herself to look away from the phone screen at the field in front of her so that her fingers don't start doing this embarrassing keysmash that people generally seem to do when they're embarrassed. Does she want to do that? She thinks she'd rather avoid it. Or at least try to.

That's when her mind supplies that fact about sunflowers that it was trying to remember. When the sun is not visible, the sunflowers turn towards one another, as if the sun is just a fever dream that is abandoned as soon as it dips below the horizon, and the only real things that exist in the world are the flowers themselves and their partners who exist right beside them. Hero watches as the wind gently coaxes them, one flower falling into another and vice versa, as they hold each other and dance while the first stars form constellations in the sky. Hero thinks how beautiful this is, that there is a whole universe beyond clichés, that a sunflower doesn't have to achingly wait for a sun that will never belong to it, but instead the world is for its taking as it falls in love with the flower next to it — one that will return its feelings.

And all of a sudden, hero is overwhelmed by this weird emotion in her chest. She can't name it, she's always been bad with names. But sitting here and looking at these sunflowers breaking clichés makes her heart soar for some inexplicable reason. It's like nature is telling her that nothing else matters other than feelings that are respected and returned.

She opens villain's chat and starts typing in everything that she's realised in the past minute with increased fervour, afraid that all of these thoughts would just up and disappear into a puff of nothing because nothing is really everlasting — except this one moment. And she plans to make the best of it. She types the last letter, then attaches a close-up picture of two sunflowers with tangled petals facing one another and hits send.

Villain takes a minute to reply, but it brings the brightest smiles to hero's face regardless.

V: I don't know if you even realise this, but I just love the way you fucking think ❤ The sunflowers seem like they could pass for humans themselves don't they? Because I just find this whole thing alarmingly human — the way we have our hearts on our sleeves when we know no one else is looking, for that one person.

Hero sighs happily, she didn't think feeling understood could feel this liberating. It's definitely one of those feelings that people can get high on , she thinks. Damn, she thinks she's definitely getting high on this herself.

H: Thank you love, I love the way you think too! And I do agree, the sunflowers are humans xD (plus ten heart emojis).

A few more minutes go by and hero receives another message from villain with this attached picture:

there's a hand (hero guesses it's villain’s hand) holding two violet flowers together (so they look like they're hugging) with this caption —

I had to chase away two ducks for this picture, because these flowers were apparently their evening snack. How cool is that?

And hero’s full blown laughing now, the clutching-your-stomach kind of laughing and she hopes that the laughing emoji on her phone would do this justice. Probably not.

—

Here's the live coverage of Hero vs Supervillain-

The newsreader reads live from the venue and villain’s eyes refuse to leave the tv screen for even a single moment. They watch as their hero holds her ground against such a powerful foe and villain’s heart fills up to the brim with a mix of fondness and pride. They don't feel the rest of the evening pass by, as they sit and watch the entire live coverage without as much as even getting up.

Hero emerges victorious, and she has a few surface injuries here and there, some nasty looking gashes but she's standing there and she's alive and she's okay and villain finally lets out a breath that they didn't even know they were holding.

That's their strong, sweet and kind hero and villain can't be happier to call her their girlfriend.

Hellooo there lovely people!! I know it's been a long while since I posted (that's because life is pretty hectic rn) but I finally found some time to write (and procrastinate, but that's the usual lol). So what's new is that I've given you all some female rep, because I just realised that I haven't really written much female mc content. So I hope you all enjoyed reading this, and thank you for your support as always - means a lot<3

[animeyanderelover]

Hiii it's me again XD Can you write promp 52 to Dagger?

Hey, always happy to see you in here😇. It became pretty short, but I hope it’s still fine.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, delusional thinking, paranoia, mentions of kidnapping

Prompt 52:You want to leave me?!?! Why?!?! Is it because I beat those people who insulted you last week? Or is it because I didn’t make you your favorite breakfast yesterday? Whatever it is, I promise I can fix it!!”

You want to leave me?!?! Why?!?! Is it because I beat those people who insulted you last week? Or is it because I didn’t make you your favorite breakfast yesterday? Whatever it is, I promise I can fix it!!” All you had asked for was a small break, nothing more and nothing less. It had been just a small request to your boyfriend who had become too much for you to endure anymore, constantly glaring at anyone near you, going as far as actually throwing hands and get into a fight with the other person. It happened so many times that Joker had to drag him away from others or Doll had rushed over to get you since you were the only one who was in such moments able to calm him down. That wasn’t the only problem in here though. Dagger was just too much, too overbearing, too clingy, too affectionate. At first it had been rather cute, really. You had just taken it as a sign that Dagger really loved you. And even know you didn’t doubt his love for you. But as weird as it may have sounded to other people, right now you just needed a break from this all. He was too sweet and doting with his words, awakening more annoyance than appreciation inside of you. He was too smothering with his touches and kisses, wanting you to push him away whenever he showered your face with kisses after a performance or just cuddled the oxygen out of you. And this was the point where you realized that you needed to take a short break to be able to calm your mind.

But Dagger apparently didn’t think so, pacing panicked in circles around you, preventing you from leaving the tent. He looked beyond disturbed, muttering inaudible words like a waterfall, eyes darting quickly around, every few seconds landing on you with an emotion you couldn’t find a fitting word to describe for, not knowing if there was even a fitting word. But whatever this emotion reflecting in his eyes was, it caused you to shiver, swallowing your growing uneasiness down. You shouldn’t have told him, that would have probably saved you from this moment here. But avoiding Dagger was impossible since you two worked often together, not to mention that you two saw each other each day due to living in the circus. So even if you would have send someone else to tell him that you needed a break, what good would have done it anyways? He would have just stormed out and instantly looked frantically for you. In the end it would have ended in the same situation, you guessed with Dagger this was unavoidable. “Come on Dagger, don’t act like this. It’s just a small break, it won’t kill you, you know? Just give me a bit of time and use it to work on your rather unacceptable behavior and we two are fine again. Doesn’t sound that hard now, does it? I mean, even Joker thinks that you’re acting a bit off.”

And suddenly Dagger stopped, freezing in his step he had wanted to take, as if someone had suddenly put a spell onto him. It looked weird to you. That was at least until you noticed something rather off. His whole body didn’t move. Except his eyes. His eyes were trembling, almost a sort of gaze over them. It was already eerie enough that only his eyes seemed to move, but rather than this it was the look presented in them. This dark and thick darkness in them, leading you to slowly stepping back. “Dagger...?” And with a speed that made you fear for a moment that he would snap his neck, Dagger turned his head to you, sea-green eyes drilling themself with an unbelievable intensity in you, giving you the feeling of not being able to breathe properly anymore. You had never expected him to be able to look that scary, his normally more lively personality being gone, his normally always emotion-filled face looking suspiciously blank. Only the weird and hideous glimmer in those eyes of his showed you an emotion. Cold rage. And suddenly you couldn’t move anymore, your limbs refusing to work like they should. What was with this look of his? You couldn’t recall a time before where he had ever looked more ready to just kill someone without giving a care.

But luckily he soon seemed to snap out of it, the coldness slowly melting away, showing you this certain spark in his eyes again that he always had when looking at you and you let a deep breath out, feeling like someone had just removed invisible chains. “I see. So it’s their fault.” You raised your eyebrow confused, not understanding what he meant with that. Was he even talking to you? He kind of looked at you, but at the same time you gained the impression that he didn’t look at you. “Excuse you?”, you asked carefully, at this point not knowing how to act around him. Should you be worried that he might do something stupid? Upon noticing your concerned expression Dagger gave you a smile, obviously trying to comfort you. But it did pretty much the opposite, causing your stomach to churn. It looked too bright for it’s own good, this smile of his. “You don’t have to be worried. I’m not angry with you. It’s not your fault.” For this stupid short moment you thought he had now accepted or at least tried to accept your pleas for a short break. And for a second you relaxed a bit, before stiffening up again when he continued. “It’s their thought, I knew that they were all against me. They all want you for themselves, that’s why they keep trying to get into your head. Yes...yes, that must be it. They corrupted your mind.”

Wow...This guy was delusional through the roof. Was he even listening to what he was mumbling there? What was this fellow there even talking about? But before you could even start asking him if he was either just very delusional or crazy he suddenly stepped closer to you, grabbing your hands and pulling you a bit closer to him, leading to you flinching away from him. “It’ll be alright. They just got into your head. But I will fix this and then everything will be fine again. Just let me take care of everything, I’ll ensure that everything will be fine. All we need to do is escaping this place here. That would be the best, to move you away from everyone here. They just want to steal you away from me anyways. It’ll be necessary for you to clear your mind and then we can start a nice and save life somewhere else.” His eyes literally screamed delusional, not to mention his voice that had sounded more and more thrilled the longer he had spoken, leading him to the point of tightly clutching your hands. You on the other hand had paled, labeling him officially as a lunatic in that very moment. And that made you realize that it would be the best option to get the fuck out of his tent, to storm to Beast and hoping that she would be able to whip some sense into this boy’s thick head.

But you hadn’t even had to do anything, Dagger suddenly pressing a quick kiss against your forehead before suddenly turning around, humming quietly to himself and skipping, SKIPPING, out of the tent, humming quietly a melody to himself. You remained frozen, eyes glued to the back of his head until he was out of your sight. A really bad feeling washed all over you, suddenly feeling like you should probably stay at least with one of the first-string members all the time. You definitely weren’t safe in here anymore, that much you knew. The question was how much Joker would be able to do against his friend? Would he be even willing to do much? Dagger was after all his childhood friend and you weren’t sure if your comfort would be put higher or if Joker would decide to overlook Dagger’s behavior. But you knew one thing for sure. You had to be on high alert from now on.

[my-socialdiary]

Cold yet Warm

*drum roll*

another Childe x Lumine fanfiction! i don’t know why but i LOVE this ship so much XD this time, i tried not to write angst even though i’m tempted to write more angst lmao 

my other fanfiction (you can find them on my AO3 account: LoxieAshtyn)

Behind His Mask

Deep Water

anyway, here it is!

Summary: Childe and Lumine decided to camp somewhere near Mondstadt because it’s getting dark and cold. 

It was freezing outside. It’s a snowy season here in the entire Teyvat. The snow is falling down, covering that once green grass with white blanket, giving the sense of dullness but still there’s a beauty in it. Especially when it’s dark and night, you can see a bunch of small lamp grass which emits enough light at night in the wild, when the windwheel aster is no longer blooming for a few months. It’s nice to see life and color in the middle of the monotonous time of the year. 

“It will be nice to have Amber or Klee to lit up this damn fire rather than me doing this,” The blonde-haired girl was mumbling annoyingly to the tree branch she gathered earlier. The air is frozen lace in her skin, slowly numbing her movement. “We will already be  frozen and die when finally this fire light.” She rolled her eyes while roughly rubbing tree branches against rocks with exasperation. 

“Paimon thinks you're doing it the wrong way, Lumine,” her travel companion in the form of a little fairy with a pair of translucent wings hovering near her. “Why don’t we asked Childe to help us? We can even switch tasks with him!” Paimon pointed at that deep blue eyes man who now is cutting fowl meat and mushroom so that they can have chicken-skewer feast. 

Childe, who is noticed that he’s being mentioned by Paimon, turns his head and looks at Lumine’s direction. “Need any help with that?” he said while pointing at the poor tree branches that have been broken several times with his chin and letting out small chuckles. “I pity those branches.” He puts his knife and walks toward Lumine and takes the branches from her hand. “Here, let me do it. We can switch.” She huffed and walked past him. 

Coldness is now wrapping their body even more. It’s even worse for Childe because he’s a hydro user. Lumine’s wondering if she’s almost feeling numb and her scarves didn’t do its job properly, how about Childe? She glances at him just to see that steam coming out from his mouth every time he breathes. But luckily, the fire is now lit up and he tries to make it even bigger by giving more branches. Heh. He seems fine. She shrugged and continued her task.  

“Wow! You are waaay more better than Lumine, Childe!” Paimon spins around in the air and claps her tiny hands. Lumine rolled her eyes. “Now we can eat! Paimon is already feeling hungry.” She said with trembling made up voices along with Lumine who is now walking to them with raw chicken-mushroom skewers ready to grilled. “Yay! Food!” 

Few moments later, they are all already fed, satisfied, and full. Even Paimon was already sleeping because she ate too many. Her tiny stomach can hold so many foods. Meanwhile, Childe is chilling outside his tent in front of the bonfire, enjoying the weather and warmness that tickles his body while his index finger is now poking the snow in the ground. 

“Are you not cold?” Ask Lumine. She has been finished putting Paimon to her own tent and found Childe sitting outside. She hands over a piece of a thick blanket to him.

Childe smiles and takes the blanket. “Not really, the bonfire I made is doing its job properly,” He teased her when emphasizing the words ‘I made’ and let out a small laugh. In response, Lumine nudged him with her elbow and narrowed her eyes. 

“Well, I admit you’re good at this, okay.” She said. 

“I know. Thank you.” 

The gentle breeze brushed off their skin, the fire crackling from the roaring blaze as dying branches and twigs gasped for their last breaths before totally consumed by its heat. None of them speaks. Their gaze is focused on the dancing fire, and seems to entertain them in the midst of Whisper Forest. If it’s not because of the quest they need to complete, they won’t be camping outside in this weather. 

Lumine watches the fire as her mind slowly wanders off to the time when he still has his twin brother, Aether, on her side. They’ve been together since forever and now, she gotta admit that sometimes she’s afraid because of his absence. She breathes a sigh. 

That catches Childe’s ear. “Why are you sighing? Is something bothering you?” He asks. 

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m just thinking about Aether and his whereabouts.” She forced a smile. 

“You miss him?”

“Of course, you silly.” She squints.

“I miss my siblings too,” He looks at Lumine. 

“I’d like to meet them someday,” She already heard so many things about Childe’s trio siblings. “Do you think they’ll like me?” She looks back at Childe just to see directly to his face and the deep dark blue eyes he has. What a beauty. This is not fair. How can he be so charming like this? Her cheeks started to blushed.

“Tonia is a little bit shy, but I’m sure Anthony and Teucer will like you,” He said. “They probably will enjoy Paimon’s companion too.” 

“Y-yeah,” She looks away. Her heart is beating fast. 

“What is Aether like? You rarely speak about him since we met,” He is now placing his face in his palm while that strong, muscular arm… no. Is supporting his upper body weight. He leaned forward to see Lumine’s face and didn’t take his eyes off from her. “Did you two have a super-similar personality, or…?”

Don’t look at me like that! She screamed inside. “U-uh, we resemble each other, I-I think.” 

“It must be fun to have twin siblings,” He一finally一turns his face and watches the fire again. Lumine breathes a sigh of relief. “To know and to be known deeply. No wonder that you missed him so much.” He smiles. 

“Yeah… it’s hard because I have been with him all my life. And now we’re parting ways, it’s…” she’s trying to find the right word. “Terrifying.”

Yes. It’s terrifying. The feeling of not knowing anything about the one who’s being the only support system you have is terrifying. She doesn't know where he is. She doesn't know what he is up to. She doesn't know if he’s in danger or not or if he needs her help. Importantly, she doesn’t know if he’s still alive or not after being taken by the Unknown God. Thinking about that makes her shiver in fear. No… Aether will be still alive, right? She tries to assure herself. 

Just at that moment, she feels Childe’s arm wrapping her shoulder, pulling her closer to his body. Giving her a sense of comfort and safety. It’s warm… and nice. She knows that nothing has happened between her and Childe yet. And she also knows that at this moment she’s been carried away by her emotions yet she didn’t care. And it makes her head leisurely lean to his chest, hearing his heartbeat. It’s calming, she must admit. He stroked her upper arm with his palm. 

“I’m sure he’s fine. You have to believe in him, you know?” He looked down, whispering those words. She can feel his breath tickling her ears, making her stomach flutter with those stupid butterflies. “The only thing you should do right now is keeping yourself safe. Don’t jump into a group of treasure hoarders by yourself.” 

“I’m not that weak, you know,” She murmured. His warmth makes her a little bit sleepy. He tightened his embrace and that made her smile while closing her eyes, enjoying every bit of him. “Do you enjoy making me stay like this?” She teased him, trying to sound like she’s annoyed. 

“Do I?” He asks her back with a chuckle. 

“Seems like you do, Childe.” 

“I guess so. Do you mind?” Childe felt that she was smiling in his arms. And that makes him smile too. “No need to answer that. I know.”

“You know?” She pulled herself and raised her eyebrow.

“Of course. You would kill to be at my arms like this.” 

She pretends to think. “Well, I guess you’re right.” She grinned. 

There’s a pause for a few minutes when finally Childe opened his mouth while pulling himself from her “I will stay with you, as long as you want me to stay,” he said it with determination. “As long as you have not yet found your brother, I will stay. With you.” 

Lumine looks at him. His eyes showed the kind of gentle concern and sincerity her brother used to have. Childe put his hand on Lumine’s cheek, his soft voice made her feel his words calming her more than the actual words. It felt as if she were wrapped in a blanket of his thoughtful words. “Thank you,” She whispered while her eyes glimmered with watery tears. It was a happy cry. “Thank you, Childe. I mean it.”

He smiled and nodded. “I just want you to know that I care about you. I truly do, Lumine.” 

She leans forward and gives him a kiss on his cheek. “I know.” After that she stood up and walked back to her tent. “You’d better go sleep now, Childe. Go to your tent.” 

“How about you go to my tent?” He stood up and held her wrist, preventing her from walking away. “You know, it’s cold, and I’m a hydro user. I could use some warmth.” 

Lumine smiles. “Just to remind you, I’m an anemo user, not a pyro user, Childe.” 

“Well, your specialty is spreading out the effects of other elements, so…” he walks to lessen the gap between them. “I’m sure you can spread out the warmth from the fire to me as well.” 

“I never try that.”

“Now you can try.” 

Heat rose from Lumine’s stomach to her chest and soon enough arrived in both of her cheeks. Childe’s lips were getting closer till his smell hypnotized her beyond reasons. The feel of his frame leaning on hers as his arms wrapped around her felt comforting. She’s not sure who is exactly giving the warmth. Their lips met, transferring the sense of comfort they never felt before. 

He pulled his lips and looked at Lumine. Her cheeks flushed with bright pink. “I will protect you no matter what, Lumine,” When he said her name, she shivered. His voice lingered over the words as it sounded pleasant to her. He pulled her over a hug and placed his head above Lumine’s head. “I never thought that this kiss would happen so soon.” He smiles and chuckles. 

“So you anticipate and really think that we will kiss?” She teased him. 

“Of course.” He said, with a slight confidence in his voice. 

“Why?” pulled herself from the Childe’s arms and looked straight to his eye. 

“Because I really want to cross the boundaries.”

“What?”

“By saying this,” He exhale and locked his eyes with her. “I love you.” 

“Childe…”

“Sometime in the future, I want to cross those boundaries, I want to do many things with you,” He said. “That’s why I need to make sure that you know I love you. So that you will be assured with every action or words I do.”

She smiles. “I love you.”

That cold weather isn’t that bad, after all. 

[aethersea]

fake married + poorly timed confession + the leverage ot3? or any component ship, i'm not picky xD

as it happens, I was already planning on writing a fake married fic for the ot3! so this is more fic than fic description, though I couldn’t really convince myself that any of these three would full-on confess in the middle of a con which is, of course, the most poorly timed you can get. but here you go and please enjoy, mind the cut!

for this ask meme, which is still open

Parker and Eliot crash a senator’s garden party, posing as a married couple so they can be each other’s cover while each one sneaks off in turn. When Eliot needs to take a quiet moment to get rid of the guards on the roof, he excuses himself from the conversation in the parlor with a grin and a, “Better go make sure the little lady’s not having too much fun without me!” This wins a round of chuckles, and Eliot rolls his eyes as he turns away.

Parker, a few seconds later and out in the garden, just blurts out, “I’m going to look for my husband,” and clomps off.Sophie, keeping the senator busy at the buffet table, turns her eyes to the heavens in supplication.

Eliot meets Nate on the roof once the guards are dealt with, and leads him down to the senator’s bedroom so he can lie in wait and be all spooky when Sophie sends the senator up to look for his watch. Parker, meanwhile, is raiding the senator’s office safe for something Nate can blackmail him with. It’s a tightly timed con, but Eliot has a good four minutes to get himself back to the garden before the house guards notice that something’s gone wrong on the roof.

Or so he thought—they must have better failsafes in place than they’d realized, because Parker almost gets caught on her way back from cracking the senator’s office safe. Eliot, who’s half a corridor away and only just done getting his shirt and hair back in order, huffs in exasperation and rushes to intercept the guards about to reach her.

He rushes fast enough that he reaches her first, and instead of letting him barrel past her, Parker grabs him and swings him up against the nearest wall.

When the guards turn the corner, they find the two of them passionately making out. Parker pulls away from Eliot and says, with a drunken giggle, “You boys here to join the fun? Careful, my man here’s mighty possessive.” She lays her head on Eliot’s shoulder, and he takes the hint and glares the guards away.

- - - - - - -

Eliot does not talk to Hardison about this. The absence of that talk is a palpable weight in the van as they drive away from the senator’s house. Nate and Sophie can feel it too, he knows, from Nate’s wince and Sophie’s brief but sympathetic smile. It’s not like Hardison and Parker are—It’s not that they don’t—Well they are, actually, but—

Eliot takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose. Hardison and Parker are dating, and even before that Parker had really only ever kissed Hardison on cons, but Hardison isn’t possessive, no matter the spike of horror that flashed through Eliot at Parker’s words to the guards. He has to know that Eliot would never try anything with Parker, would never hurt either of them like that. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine.

Still, he’s deeply relieved when Nate says that their next angle of attack is going to involve Hardison and Parker handling the real estate agency, just the two of them, while Eliot provides backup for Sophie almost all the way across town.

- - - - - - -

That relief means that Eliot is not even remotely braced for it when, at the last minute, the plan changes.

It turns out that the mobster’s cousin runs the real estate agency. This explains why the agency’s involved in the first place, but not how, so they still need to get Hardison in there to do his magic on their servers. “Alright,” Nate says, “Eliot, you’re switching with Parker. The mob might be hiding the drugs at the agency, so keep an eye out for guards.”

Hardison groans. “Come on, Nate, I already booked the appointment for Mr. and Mrs. Dallanby! Newlyweds, they just got back from their honeymoon in Kenya, I—I set up the facebook pictures, man—”

“We’ll just have to hope they didn’t do a background check,” Nate says, and Hardison grumbles but Eliot hears keys clicking on the line as he switches the personas around. “If they did, you’ll just pull a Bogota Chop Shop on them.”

So Eliot has to gun it across town to meet Hardison in front of the realtors’. (Parker, making the same trip in reverse, reaches Sophie a full five minutes earlier, because she is a maniac who should never be allowed behind a wheel.)

Eliot and Hardison still have not talked. Eliot tries not to think about that as he pulls into the agency parking lot and Hardison hops out of Lucille to join him. Somehow he is still trying not to think about it when Hardison takes his hand, pulls him through the front door, and introduces them as “Mr. and Mr. Dallanby, oh were you expecting a Mrs. Dallanby? Of course you were, of course, why do I even—I guess we should go somewhere else, hmm, what do you think about that? Come on honey, we’re leaving! I’m so sick of—”

Eliot finally pushes past the weird anxiety that won’t let go of his brain and manages to say something empty and reassuring, and then the receptionist is nervously insisting it was just a typo in the system and offering them coffee while they wait, and Hardison grumpily allows himself to be pulled away toward the waiting room couch.

He doesn’t drop the act there, though. He leans against Eliot and—and snuggles up against him, and somehow Eliot’s arm is around Hardison’s shoulder, and something inside him panics and tries to pull away but Hardison grabs his hand and yanks it down and hisses, “Look the goddamn part!” and there’s nothing Eliot can do but sit there and take it.

They still haven’t talked. Eliot can feel the tension in Hardison’s shoulders. He swallows hard and tries not to think about it.

- - - - - - -

No one at the restaurant opening should recognize him, but Eliot keeps out of the serving area anyway. It’s not hard—whenever the owner comes out and says someone wants to meet the chef, he just snarls that he’s too busy and ignores the woman until she goes away. It’s a lie—he’s only had three days with this kitchen team but he must grudgingly admit that they’re on top of things. Eliot keeps an eye on it all anyway, making sure the prawns don’t overcook and the beef doesn’t boil, with only half an ear for the drama happening in the serving area.

Hardison and Parker are building up to a fight. Eliot does his best to tune out Parker’s insults, Hardison’s anger, and Sophie’s careful coaching on when to escalate and when to wait. He’s not on until later, when the senator shows up; for now his biggest concern is fixing the garnish on these flounder fillets. Something’s still not quite right––maybe some shallots…

The argument in his ear crescendoes and crests. Hardison storms off in a rage. Parker fakes a few weirdly convincing sobs. For such a wooden grifter, she’s surprisingly good at pretending to cry. It’s barely a minute before the divorce attorney sitting behind Parker turns around to offer his services. Eliot can practically hear Sophie’s smug smile.

Hardison goes back to Lucille, or so Eliot thought. When he admits to himself that he’s micromanaging the kitchen more than he needs to be and retreats to the pantry, ostensibly to fetch some carrots but really to cool down, he finds Hardison leaning against the door, fiddling with his phone and munching on an apple.

Eliot almost snatches it out of his hand. “Don’t take those,” he snarls. “They’re for the chicken waldorf, not for you.”

Hardison shrugs, that slow grin of his spreading across his face. “I’m a thief. What do you expect?”

Eliot rolls his eyes and shoves past him to get the carrots. When he turns around, Hardison is framed in the doorway, blocking his way out. Before Eliot can snap at him, he says, “Hey man, are you okay?”

Eliot raises his eyebrows, unimpressed. This is a long con, but not a difficult one. And he got to punch out three of the senator’s security staff just a few days ago. He’s fine.

“You’ve been kinda off these past few days. And you disappear the moment we break for the day.” Hardison doesn’t shrug or quirk a smile to take the edge off his words, like most people would. He looks steadily at Eliot, eyes gentle, and keeps his voice soft and calm. “You know we’re here for you, right? If you’re having trouble with something, or if you just want to talk, we’re here. You’re not alone anymore.

“Our mikes are off,” he adds belatedly, gesturing with his phone. “Just us here.”

It’s a special kind of courage, being entirely sincere with someone, opening yourself to the possibility of whatever they might throw at you. Hardison screams when Parker drops him off of even two-storey buildings and panics at the first threat of violence, but in his own way he’s braver than the rest of them put together. It’s admirable. It’s terrifying. Eliot glares, feeling his fingers clench around the carrot leaves, and knows that there is nothing he can do to intimidate Hardison even a little bit.

It’s not out of fear, then, that Hardison lowers his gaze and steps aside so he’s no longer blocking the only exit. It’s a concession, freely given.

Eliot has a brief, violent internal argument.

He can still hear Parker keeping the lawyer busy and Sophie advising her on how much to flirt, but after all these years of practice it’s easy enough to tune it all out and just listen for his name. He takes a deep breath, and then another.

“You and Parker are good together,” he says. Hardison’s eyes flick up, surprised but almost managing to hide it. “And I’m—I’m so happy for you both.” He doesn’t notice the way he ducks his chin a fraction until after he’s done it, bracing for a punch he knows won’t come. “And you know that I don’t—that I would never—Look, she’s your girlfriend, I’m not ever going to…to even try to…”

This whole being brave thing isn’t working out too well. Hardison is watching him with patient incomprehension. Eliot squares his shoulders and opens his mouth to do this right, but before he can, someone in the hallway cries out, “Girlfriend?!”

Hardison jumps. Eliot lunges forward to grab him and shove him into the pantry, so Eliot is between him and whoever this is, but it’s too late, there’s a hand reaching out and shoving Hardison’s chest, pushing him away from the door—

The hand is followed by an angry waitress—Jenna? Jamie?—who is utterly and bafflingly furious. “You asshole!” she yells over Hardison’s confused spluttering, “I hope she does divorce you!”

Eliot puts out an arm to block Jemima’s rampage, and she turns her look of absolute disgust on him. “Chef, were you aware this jackass is married?”

“Eliot!” Nate says in his ear, at the literal worst possible moment. “You’ve got incoming!”

“Married!” Joanna screeches in Hardison’s face. She’s not quite straining against Eliot’s arm, but she’s conveying through body language and intonation that she’s about three seconds away from violence. “And you have a girlfriend!”

Hardison’s face is absolutely priceless. At a better moment, Eliot would stop to appreciate it, but right now there are three mobsters rounding the corner just a couple feet behind Hardison, and they recognize Eliot from the real estate agency. “Mr. Dallanby?” one of them says, sincerely confused.

Hardison jumps again and glances over his shoulder. “Mr. Dallanby?” another mobster says.

The third one gasps. “You have a girlfriend?”

“He does!” Jen crows. “He’s a goddamn cheater!”

“Oh that’s messed up,” the first mobster says. The other two mutter their agreement. They step forward until they’re looming menacingly behind Hardison. The second mobster turns to Eliot and says kindly, “Are you okay, Mr. Dallanby?”

Hardison is stiff as a board, his eyes wide in a silent plea for Eliot to do something. Eliot, absolutely nonplussed, opens his mouth and closes it several times before he manages, “I’m fine, thanks. It’s—we’re working it out.”

There’s an unintelligible commotion in his ear and Jackie is starting to realize that something’s up. Eliot wonders desperately if this is a nightmare. The first mobster, who seems to be in charge, steps forward and offers, “If you need a hand, son, or if you need a moment to process this—”

“That’s okay,” Eliot says hurriedly. He’s trying to parse the jumble in his ear, and it’s not working but he’s pretty sure the main concern is that he and Hardison have gone off comms and not gone back on again. “I’m—we’re good.” He steps forward and grabs Hardison’s hand, pulling him away from the mobsters.

This, unfortunately, puts him right next to Janice, who declares in strident tones, “Oh no you are not! You have a wife back there, asshole, you can’t just cheat on her and expect—“

At that precise moment, the senator walks around the corner behind the mobsters. “I thought we were supposed to meet in the—Ted Dalton? What are you doing here?” Because of course, they had to be conning the one senator in all of Congress who actually learns the names and faces of every guest at his garden parties, well enough to recognize Eliot three entire days later and dressed as a chef.

The mobsters frown. “Wife?”

Parker, skidding around the corner behind Eliot with an audible squeak of tennis shoes on linoleum, says quietly, “Oh shit.”

[chrome-wind]

Small steps

Pathfinder sat in his room messing with parts of machinery, he wanted to make something special for his best friend. He thought about buying him something like a bunch of flowers, but the last flowers he bought Revenant didn’t really like. It didn’t stop him from keeping them because Pathfinder was giving them too him but not really what he wanted. He could get Revenant a stuffed animal but Revenant doesn’t care for things like that! The only exception being the Nessie he had. Perhaps a Knife? No wait hold on perhaps not! Pathfinder shook his head with a nervous laughing emoji on his screen.

A small knock at his door took him out of his thoughts, opening the door seeing Revenant standing there “Pathfinder” he said calmly

“Hello Revenant! What brings you here today?” Path said excitedly, “I wanted to ask... that maybe...”

He couldn’t get his words out as if he didn’t want to ask what he was asking.

“It’s okay friend! Take your time!”

Revenant looked at the floor twisting his fingers together. “Nevermind” he turned and started to walk back to his room

Pathfinder wilted even though being made of metal and a sad face appears on his face.

“Wait friend!” Revenant stopped and turned, to which Pathfinder trotted over to him taking his hand and bringing their bodies together. “Why don’t you come round later to do something together?” Pathfinder asked.

“I.. I don’t know” Revenant said shyly

“Are you busy?”

“N-no... I’m free”

“Do you not want to come?” Path said disappointingly which Revenant died on the inside watching him close inwards.

“No! ... I want to come! I’-I’ll come! I’m free, I guess I could spend the night with you.”

Revenant was burning up his temperature was above the normal body temperature, his machine started to whin a bit too loudly.

Pathfinder stood up straight with a happy emoji on his screen! “Great! I’ll see you later Revenant! I love you!”

“Yeah” Revenant replied trailing to his room.

Pathfinder giddily ran into his room! He needed to prepare! He spent all afternoon with his gift for Revenant after looking at his work he smiled “Perfect!” Placing it gently in a small box.

He then quickly ran to his bathroom, it wasn’t really a bathroom because of him being a robot. He saw it more as a room to clean him self after a game. It still had a toilet and a shower, which he kept very clean and tidy.

Path took time to oil his joints and clean all the grime off of his arms and legs. Grabbing a soft cloth that was being held by a Nessie, dipped in some polish and gave his entire frame a nice sheen to it.

Looking in the mirror after cleaning and giving himself a thumbs up.

“Wait a minute!” He said to him self running into his room, pulling a box out from under neath his bed upon opening it finding a small dark red bow tie, running back to the mirror and tying the bow neatly around his scarf!

“You get him Pathfinder!” He said jiggling to himself.

Later that evening Pathfinder ran up to the door of his best friends door.

“Revenant! Are you ready for our date!?” He said excitedly.

“It’s not a date!” Revenant shouted behind the door.

“A date you say?” Wraith said behind Pathfinder.

“Hello Wraith!, yes it is! I can’t wait, it’s gonna be fun!” Giving a thumbs up.

“I see you’ve dressed all smart for him too! He should be impressed! You look stunning Path!” Wraith smiled

Revenant at this point opened the door standing next to Pathfinder. “Are you ready?”

“Wow Revenant!” Wraith said trying to hide her laughs.

“You got a problem?” Revenant said trying to look threatening, but Wraith knowing that he’d do nothing to her put her hands up stepping backwards.

“Sorry! Don’t stay out too late you too! Look after him Path!” She said trailing down the hallway.

“Have fun Wraith!” Path waved excitedly.

Revenant then looked at Pathfinder seeing his bow tie around his neck, already crooked.

“Come ere! It’s already off centre!” Revenant said calming down just looking at Pathfinder. His hands slowly corrected the tie, “already looking somewhat decent.” He said lowing his arms, gently tracing his hand down Pathfinders arm greeting his hand within his own. ��You look all gussied up friend!” Path said gripping Revenants hand tighter.

Revenant hasn’t really added anything to his outfit, he had however cleaned himself of dried blood stains and tried to at least look a bit smarter by polishing his metal parts.

“Have any ideas on where we’re going?” Revenant asked, not really knowing where to go even though he had been thinking about it all day and couldn’t think of a single place to go.

“I know exactly where to go! Follow me friend!”

Revenant was glad Pathfinder could think of somewhere as his head was gonna explode if he had to choose somewhere.

Pathfinder lead the way still holding Revenants hand, dragging him along as quickly as possible, to which Revenant allowed at least he thought it best too! They stepped out of the drop ship into the dark warm night, Pathfinder pointing “Over there is where I was thinking!” Revenant was confused,

“Didn’t you want to head to a movie or something?”

“Well friend everywhere is closed, it’s too late to go anywhere but I think this will do just fine!”

Pathfinder gently pulled Revenant over to the side of a cliff. The sea was calmly crashing on the shore, the wind was chilly but not enough to freeze or feel cold. Revenant liked feeling the wind on his body, it felt familiar.. he could sit here all night.

Pathfinder then sat down on the floor

“Come sit down here Revenant! You’ll have the perfect view!”

Revenant was doubting that already with the view he could already see sitting in front of him but gradually sat down next to Pathfinder.

Pathfinder then asked “I want you to close your eyes and look up!”

“Why..” Revenant asked.

“Because I think you’ll like this view better!”

They both lay down next to each other Pathfinder slowly taking Revenants hand

“Okay friend, I want you to open them on the count of three!”

“I can’t just open them now?” Revenant said impatiently

“No! It’s more fun this way friend!”

Path said excitedly.

“1, 2, 3”

Revenant opened his eyes to look up and see bright colours filling the sky. Stars shined brightly surrounded by a swarm of clouds and spirals of the galaxies filling the sky. Red, blue and purple filled the sky that blended beautifully into one another and leading down to the edge of the horizon.

Revenant sat there, still as ever and couldn’t find any words to say. He didn’t want to admit to Path that he actually loved seeing the night sky so colourful but he wanted to let Path know that he at least liked it!

“It’s.. something” Revenant eventually said

“It’s beautiful!” Path replied “Like you!” He said turning his head to Revenants, squeezing his hand tightly. Revenant didn’t even have to look at Pathfinders screen to know hearts flowing all over his screen.

“....Thank you” Revenant said as softly as he could.

Pathfinder was taken back a couple of steps before he could think of his next sentence! He couldn’t keep still jiggling slightly in his spot.

“Oh! That reminds me friend!” He said sitting up and reaching for his present. Revenant sat up just as Pathfinder handed him the box. Startled as Path thrusted this box at him.

“What is it?” He said confusingly

“It’s for you.. I wanted to get you something! For being w-with me!” Pathfinder said shyly. His screen not showing a emoji just hearts.

“Why would you want to get me anything!” Revenant asked. His machine begins to over heat slightly which he hoped the wind was covering.

“Why, wouldn’t I?” Path said confusingly.

Revenant took the box gently opening the lid to reveal a small black and sliver ring, it had intricate designs of Roses, leaves and thorns round the ring that bled through the black as silver. The centre of the ring was a black rose with thorns around the outside and a dark red stone protruding from the centre.

Revenant sat there in awe, his chest was tight and his whining was louder than ever, his hands where shaking slightly and his optics light up brightly.

“D-did you make this...” he said looking up to Pathfinder.

“Yes friend! I wanted to get you something, but anything I thought of you wouldn’t like! I haven’t seen you where any kind of jewellery before so I thought you might like it?”

Path said tapping his hands together.

“I had the help of Bloodhound for the design! They are great at etching! I made the ring and found the stone and they finished it off for me! It was very f”

Before Path finished his sentence Revenant had pulled him in close, Revenant dug his face deep into Pathfinders neck hugging him deeply.

“It’s... beautiful” Revenant said quietly. Pathfinder sat there in shock again, Revenant hugging him, first?! He slowly pulled Revenant away from him clasping his face and slowly touched his optic on Revenants forehead. Revenant closed his eyes and held Paths head gently with his long claws.

They sat there for a couple of minutes before lying back on the floor. Revenant placed the ring on his index finger slowly twisting it round until he could see the stone in the centre.

They both held hands, lying on the ground for the next couple of hours staring at the colourful midnight sky.

——————————————————————————

Another story for the Starved fandom XD

Not as sad as the other couple, just some fluff to please my soul XD

[purplesurveys]

1043

survey by egooverdose

Japan: What is one stereotype you associate with Asian countries/people? :/ :/ Uhm...

Jelly Bracelets: Do you have any? In which colors? Have you ever broken one? I seem to have forgotten what these refer to, but I’m sure I had a couple that didn’t last long. I wasn’t much into bracelets as a kid. Joakim Berg: Who is your favorite foreign singer|musician? Do you translate his or her lyrics? Beyoncé, I guess. All Americans are foreigners to me. I don’t translate her lyrics, nor do I do that with any other songs in English.

Josh Todd: Do you have any tattoos? If yes, what made you decide to get them? No, but I’d love a couple that symbolize important things or people, like a bowl of nachos for Nacho and each of my dogs’ pawprints.

kent: Say something in a foreign language? The word ‘kampana’ is Filipino for bell.

Kundera: What is one philosophy you have regarding life|living|purpose? Idk, I’m starting from scratch after the shitstorm that was this year. I have to find one again. I’m not rushing, though, and I want to give myself as long as I need to regather. Fuck knows I need to be kind to myself right now.

Learning: What is something you enjoy learning about? Off the top of my head, anything that doesn’t involve machines tbh. I can read about anything Wikipedia and encyclopedias have to offer, but I draw the line at factories and automobiles and engineering and robots and stuff lmao, it’s just not my thing.

Minimalist Interior Design: How would you design the inside of your own home? You already mentioned it; minimalist. I don’t want a lot of furniture and a lot of color in my space. I’d be happy with a minimal number of items organized in a meaningful way with some pastel shades here and there.

Miserable Weather: What is a weather-type that you like that not many others do? Thunderstorms, I guess? It’s been a hit or miss for me these days though; I’ve found myself crying more when it rains...but for the longest time I’ve enjoyed bleak and rainy weather. I’m not planning to drop it as my favorite just yet.

Morning: Are you friendly in the morning, or are you barely awake? I’m friendly at work from the start to the end of my shift because it’s the nice thing to do, and because I have to be. But I’m almost always anxious and on the brink of breaking down every morning. Since it’s WFH, no one from work has to know that.

Music: How important is music in your life? It’s slowly becoming significant again. I got a Spotify subscription for myself after years of sharing with Gab’s account lol, so I’ve been revisiting the music that I had to set aside for months while I had to grieve on my own. It was brutal the first few days and I cried a lot when I heard my go-to sad songs again, but I soon realized I need releases like that and so I’ve been a little more unafraid to listen to music each day.

Oasis: What is a band you remember liking from your childhood? Paramore? HAHAHAHA they were the first band I ever loved, man. And I’m happy I get to say I still very much love them.

Opinions: Do you ever get mad at people for not having the same opinion as you (i.e. Abortion being wrong|right, Meat-eating being wrong|right)? If it’s the kind of opinion that will step on fundamental human rights, like being vehemently against same-sex marriage, then we will have a problem. Otherwise, I don’t care if someone prefers Android or having pineapples on their pizza unless they’re being an asshole about it.

Orchids: What is your favorite type of flower? Does it grow where you live? Peonies. Idk, I guess so? I don’t speak flowers.

Outerspace: Do you think there's a possibility of life out there? There sure is; the universe is so vast. I wish we’re able to learn more in this lifetime, though; I wouldn’t want to miss out on future discoveries.

Photo-Editing: Do you edit any of your pictures? In what ways? Sometimes I’ll add a cute or flattering filter; that’s the furthest my editing skills go. I don’t use advanced applications like Photoshop and I don’t know how to remove moles or stray hairs or whatever.

Photography: If you like to take pictures, what is your motivation? I’m not into photography per se, like it’s not a hobby of mine or anything; but I do like taking photos of special or funny events. It’s nice to have a memento for a little bit of everything going on in my life.

Poland: Would you ever consider living anywhere cold? Yes. Maybe not Norway or Finland levels of cold, but somewhere considerably cooler than the humid hot mess I currently live in. When I went to Jeju four Aprils ago, they had the p e r f e c t temperature I could ever ask for and it was sooooo perfectly and comfortably cold in that I got to walk around in shorts but I never shivered or got goosebumps.

Potatoes: What is your absolute favorite food? It used to be burgers, but my mom has been making so many cheeseburgers the last few weeks that I need to take a break from them lol. Right now, my favorite would be sushi.

Questions: Do you like to ask questions, or answer them? Answer them, hence this blog.

Quirks: What are some weird things about you? Depends on what you count as weird. By far, people have been weirded out the most by the fact that I don’t eat fruits and will avoid them like the plague. I don’t mind the reactions and it’s actually turned out to be a great icebreaker, so I whip out that factoid pretty often haha.

Quizzes: When was the last time you were tested on something? I had a blood test last May because we needed to know if my fever was dengue or something else. Turned out to be a UTI.

Radiohead: Do you like any depressing bands? After Laughter is sad as shit but I wouldn’t say Paramore is generally known by this image. None of the other bands I listen to would count as ‘depressing.’

Rings: How would you describe the size of your fingers? They’re long and slender, which I love.

Satire: Do you enjoy political satire? It’s a hit or miss. I generally don’t seek it out.

Singing: Who do you know personally that has a nice singing voice? Leigh.

Skinny Jeans: Would you wear them? Or do you hate them? I wear them, but I hate them. 

Smashing Pumpkins: Listen to the band, or take it literally and actually GO smash pumpkins? xD Neither.

Snakes: Would you ever wear snake-skin pants, or other animal clothing? I used to wear leather shoes because it was required for school. I avoid the practice now.

Snow: What, to you, is the best part about snow|snowy weather? You tell me, lol. I’ve never experieinced snow before.

Space: Do you like to have your own space? Are you independent? It’s definitely important to have it every now and then; I’m actually taking this survey from a Starbucks because I needed so baddddd to get out of the house. It’s the first time I’m out on my own without having to do errands since March, and it feels kinda nice.

As for being independent, I’ve been mostly a dependent person and I like having people to lean on, but my breakup has also been pushing me out of my comfort zone and to try out new things just by myself. We’ll see where this takes me in a few months.

Starry Nights: When was the last time you gazed at the night sky? Last Saturday.

Stockholm: What foreign country would you like to go to for a shopping spree? Do I really have to go to another country for this? Hahahahaha idk maybe Shanghai? The people there were dressed so well when I visited.

Studded Belts: Do you own any? What do you think of them? Nope.

Suave Shampoo: What is your favorite shampoo scent? Brand? I don’t have a preference for either. As long as it’s able to clean my hair, it’s fine.

Sunglasses: What kind do you own|wear, if any? Do you like them? I don’t really. I don’t like my vision getting tinted.

Surveys: How many surveys do you think you have taken since you've started? My old survey blog has nearly 1500 while this one has a little over 1000, then add what’s probably a few hundreds that I did in 5th grade but never saved anywhere...so maybe somewhere between 2500 to 2700 in total? Hahaha I honestly thought it would be more.

Sweden: Do you ever feel like you should have been born in another country? I think nearly everyone from the Philippines thinks this.

Swedish Fish: What is a candy you often enjoy? Gummy anything.

Tea: Do you like tea more than coffee, or the other way around? I love coffee; I’m drinking one right now :D I never enjoyed tea.

The Beatles: My brother gets mad if people say they aren't the best band ever; what about you? Then I guess I shouldn’t be talking to him.

Theories: What do you think will happen to you after you die? Sleep.

Thom Yorke: If you met your favorite musician, what would you ask him|her? If we were in a Covid-free society, all I’d ask for is a hug, really. I wouldn’t have anything to ask them.

Thought: What do you spend most of your day thinking about? I’m still grieving about the stuff I’ve already covered.

Thought-Provoking Conversation: What do you consider deep? This would be a little hard to verbalize and I don’t really feel like describing rn. I guess you can say this question in itself is deep, ha.

Tokyo: Where is a busy place you would like to go to? Aw man what an innocent question. I wish I could show this survey-maker what a trainwreck 2020 has been and how ‘busy places’ virtually don’t exist anymore, at least for now.

Unpretentious Gestures: If someone pays you a compliment, do you take it to heart, or do you pass it off as just flattery? I take it to heart, but I’m not always able to receive it well.

Video Games: Do you think they cause people to become violent? No. I spent my childhood going on killing rampages on GTA and I’m still unlikely to resort to violence.

Vocabulary: What was the last word you learned? The term ‘low latency.’ 

Warsaw: What is a funny fact about your heritage? Good question, but I can’t think of any at the moment. I don’t really think ‘funny’ when I look for facts to absorb but now I want to look this up haha.

Web Design: Have you or could you build your own site? My principal requirement for my Online Journalism class was to make my own website/blog, actually. But Covid blew up and we ended up having to cancel the entire semester altogether, so my classmates and I never got to pursue more of that class other than our first few meetings, which were used for lectures.

Winter: How long|cold are winters in your area? It does not even exist.

Words: How many pages of words do you think you type a day? Maybe like 5 or 6. It’s a WFH set-up, so I’m exclusively on the laptop typing away the entire week.

Writing: Do you try to avoid it, or do you embrace it? I embrace it as long as I don’t have to write fiction or prose. I like writing, but only through journals and surveys.

[knittingdreams]

Fireheart - Chapter 16

Here I am, trying to do as I promised and posting this fic more often! Yay!

There’s a masterlist somewhere, but I’m too lazy to look for the link, lol, I’m the worst. Don’t hate me, I love you all! xD

Enjoy your reading! <3

TRIGGER WARNING: Violence. Blood. Ugly things happening :(

CHAPTER 16

Derailing

Cain’s fingers were digging into Celaena’s throat, and her shoulders were tightly pulled back as her wrists were pinned together at her back.

“Now you’ll pay for making me look like a fool,” Xavier’s lips brushed against her ear from behind, making her want to puke. She opened up her mouth to speak, but Cain’s grip tightened, making her gasp for air instead.

“No, little princess, your time for speaking is over, now you listen, and enjoy,” Cain ran a finger through the side of her face, and pushed his thumb against the sore spot over her temple. The blood was dripping down her cheek, her brow split up after Cain’s last punch. 

His fingers lingered around the edge of her mask, playing with it. As he pulled from it in one fast motion, bright lights shined behind his back. Cain looked over his shoulder, and Celaena used the distraction to bring both of her knees up to her chest and kicked Cain hard against the stomach. Xavier stammered back, and she fell on top of him, pain shooting up her shoulder as they both hit the floor. 

“Hey!” Through the blinding light, a new figure emerged from the street. 

Celaena got up and kicked Xavier in the ribs over and over while he laid on the floor. He crawled back against the wall and used it for support to get up when she doubled over, the pain on her side finally unbearable. Before she could recover, Xavier ran past her and out of the alley. The newcomer was wrestling with Cain, a blur of fists and arms dancing in the air only a few feet away.

Celaena rested a hand over the wall and doubled over holding her side. Blood was dripping down again, the floor moving under her feet. She turned, pushing her back against the wall, trying to steady herself. Wait for the brawl to move to the side, and run through the gap, she told herself. When the newcomer pinned Cain against the wall, Celaena ran towards the light, feeling herself move in slow motion, a hand still braced against the wall until she got to the end of the alley. Before she could turn the corner, a pair of hands grabbed her from behind, and she threw her elbow back, hitting something solid.

“Agh, hot damn girl, I’m here to help you.” 

She turned around towards the strained voice behind her. “I don’t... need… help.” She wheezed between each word and spat blood onto the concrete as she finished.

“You’re tougher than they give you credit for. Now come on, I have your bag, let’s get you somewhere where I can look at those wounds.” She looked up, and found Fenrys’ onyx eyes looking down at her, his golden hair was all messed up, and there was a small cut to the side of his cheekbone.

“Cain?” Her voice was so small, she mentally scolded herself for it.

“Unconscious,” Fenrys said with a smug smile. “Now, please? Would you let me help you? Not because you need the help, but because I want to help you.”

He had her bag hanging from a shoulder, and a pair of car keys dangling from his hand. His car was parked at the entrance of the alley, the lights still on, illuminating Cain’s body slumped over in the middle of the alleyway. She didn’t have much choice, she had lost too much blood and there was no way she could make it to Arobynn’s place on her own.

As she nodded slowly, Connall jumped out of the passenger seat of the car and opened up the back door for her. 

“Thank you brother, better late than never,” Fenrys’ joked.

“Didn’t look like you needed my help, and it wasn’t my fight,” his brother replied nonchalantly. 

Celaena dragged herself onto the back seat, blood smudging on the seat.

“I hope you know how to stitch,” she grumbled as Fenrys jumped onto the driver’s seat and closed the door behind him. 

“Plenty of experience.” He winked as he looked back at her, and then his expression turned serious. He turned around and backed away from the alley fast, the tires screeching loudly. 

“Wait! My bike... Please.”

“Where is it?” Fenrys asked quickly, looking at her over the rearview mirror as he sped forward.

“Three blocks down, the alley to the left.” Her fingers trembled as she pulled the keys out of her bag’s pocket. 

“Connall,” Fenrys pointed back with a motion of his head.

Connall reached back for her keys, and she held tight for a second. “Take care of it with your life,” she hissed as Connal yanked the keys out of her hand. Fenrys slammed the breaks, Connall jumped down, and before she could even blink, they were speeding down the street again.

Stay awake, she told herself. Keep your eyes open, don’t trust anybody.

“Honey, keep your eyes open, don’t you dare die in my car!”

She wanted to laugh, to say something snarky or joke about the fact that it’d take so much more than that dickhead to kill her; but her eyelids dropped, turning the world around her into a dark pit of nothingness. Little dots of light danced in front of her lids and her body was yanked backward by the speed of the car accelerating once more. The car was so cold, she shivered.

She could swear she heard Fenrys’ voice as everything dissolved around her. “Fuck. Please don’t.”

***

The pain woke her back up, and Celaena jumped to a crouch on instinct, landing on something soft.

“Woah, fucking hell! Take it easy. Okay, this is good, you’re alive.” Fenrys ran a hand through his brow, wiping the sweat away.

Celaena eased against the wall behind her and looked around the room. She was crouching on a double bed, and Fenrys was sitting on a low stool by her side, a mass of bloody gauze lying on the floor. As he lifted his hands, she saw the needle and thread on his right hand.

“Please, lie back down,” he sounded gentle all of a sudden, so she did; not because he said so, but because the room was spinning around her again. It was a small room, and the light overhead was bright, making her blink repeatedly.

“What?” She groaned and cleared her throat. “What happened?”

“You passed out in the car, you lost too much blood.” He grabbed a bottle of water from a small side table and handed it to her. “Drink, you’ll need plenty of fluids to make up for it unless you want to go to a hospital for a transfusion which I guess-”

“No way.”

“That’s what I thought. You’re stuck with me then.”

“My bike?” Fenrys rolled his eyes and pushed her shoulder gently down.

“In the garage, Connall took care of it. He said you have a nice ride, by the way.”

She leaned back, and Fenrys fixed a lamp closer to her wound. He had cut a piece of her catsuit out, leaving the wound exposed. The cut was clean, and it had stopped bleeding.

“Is it deep?” 

“No, just nasty and long, the edges are not clean so it won’t make it an easy suture. What did he cut you with?” He dug the needle in before she could reply, and mumbled a little apology as he did.

“Some kind of blade within a ring, Xavier was wearing it in the arena.”

Fenrys’ eyes snapped up at her, his hand gravitating mid-air. “What? He did that during the tournament? Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?”

“In case you didn’t notice, the crowd was already against me.”

“For fuck’s sake, you were trying to prove a point, weren’t you?”

“Don’t you dare try to teach me a lesson.” She dug her nails in her palm as the needle pierced her side again, and Fenrys shook his head lightly.

“I wouldn’t dare, I get why you’re doing what you’re doing.”

He kept working in silence, closing up the wound and then dressing it with clean gauze. He moved to her face afterward, his fingers moving gently as he cleaned the cut on her brow and patched it up. He looked at her shoulders, making sure her mobility was good enough before heading out of the room and returning with a fresh bottle of water and some pills.

“How come you're so good at this?” Celaena asked as Fenrys stepped back in.

“It’s a long story, but I was in med school for a while, before… well, before my life changed paths.” He shrugged to dismiss the matter and handed her the pills. She looked at them, dubious for a moment.  “It’s for the pain. Trust me, darling, I won’t hurt you, I promise I’m on your side,” he took a hand to his chest, his lips curving up in a small smile that she would have considered adorable under other circumstances.

“Why?”

Fenrys sat back on the stool by the side of the bed, and pulled a blanket from her feet, setting it over her legs. He handed her the bottle of water and took a deep breath.

“I… There’s someone I used to know, and you remind me of her for some reason. I wish… I wish I could have helped her, and I didn’t. So,” he looked up and smiled, his confident grin back on his lips. “I’m trying to make up for it, maybe this way I won’t go to Hell.” He stood up, and made his way to the door, half closing it behind him before he stopped, and peeked through the gap. “Try and sleep, please don’t run away. If you need anything, yell, I’ll be sleeping on the couch. Take the pills if you want the pain to go away, don’t take them if you want to feel the pain. I give you my word, they’re not poison. Your bag is on the other side of the bed, on the floor. I didn’t touch it. If you want a change of clothes, just let me know, I’ll find you something. There’s a bathroom in the next door down the hall.”

When he closed the door, Celaena dropped the pills on the table and looked for her phone inside the bag. She had a few missed calls from Sam and a bunch of texts. She replied to the last one, letting him know she won, and that she was off to sleep.

She thought she could hear voices outside of the room, but she was too tired to make up what anyone was saying. Once she closed her eyes, sleep found her fast, and the nightmares with it. 

***

When she woke back up, her side felt hot, and her whole body was drenched in sweat. She heard voices outside her room again, and this time she got up slowly, leaning against the bed as she made her way to the door. She lowered the handle as slowly as she could, opening the door an inch without making any noise.

“What were you thinking, Fenrys?” A hushed voice whisper-yelled.

“What was I supposed to do? Leave her there? You know Cain, he’s not just an asshole, you’ve heard the rumors too!” Fenrys was yelling back, sounding flustered.

“I don’t give a damn. We work there, Cain can get us into deep shit if he talks about this!”

“Fucking hell, Rowan, he was going to rape her!” A loud thump made the walls vibrate and Celaena pressed a hand against her mouth.

Silence took over, and tension curled in her gut. She was going to throw up. No, no, she couldn’t throw up. No, no, no.

She inhaled through the nose, and let the air go slowly as she braced both of her hands over the wall. She was about to close the door when she heard Rowan’s voice again, barely a whisper breaking the dreaded silence.

“What do we do now?”

“We look after her until she’s good to go back to wherever she came from. We hide the fact that she’s here from everybody, and we make sure there’s always someone at home. This doesn’t leave this flat, it stays between you, me, and Connall.”

“Is she in your room?” Rowan’s tone was clipped.

“Yes, and it’s fine, it’s not the first time I crash on the couch.”

She heard steps, someone pacing up and down the room at the end of the hall. She tried to imagine what the rest of the apartment looked like, but she couldn’t remember getting in there at all.

“This is insane,” Rowan said after a moment.

“You think I don’t know that? But-”

“Don’t!”

“I couldn’t help Lyria, but I can help this girl-”

“I said, don’t!” Rowan growled, and another loud thump made the windows rattle.

A door slammed, and Celaena closed the bedroom door slowly, sliding back into bed. She wiped the sweat from her brow with a sleeve and thought about getting changed into clean clothes, but she didn’t have the energy for it. She looked at her phone, the battery almost drained. Sam had replied at two in the morning with a simple congratulations. She hoped he had gotten better results than her. She knew nothing new about her aunt, but maybe Sam had got some information from spending the night with Lysandra and Aedion.

Begrudgingly, she took the two pills from the night table and swallowed them. She closed her eyes and heard the door opening up a few minutes later but her eyelids were too heavy, so she didn’t open them.

She imaged her mother’s hand pressing against her forehead as she used to do when she was young and Aelin had a fever. 

“Mum,” she mumbled, and her mum’s fingers caressed her brow and tucked the blanket around her. The nightmares stayed away, and instead, Aelin dreamed about a banquet, and two kids happily playing around the table, unaware of the shadows lurking all around them. 

[noirewrites]

For You, I Will Cross Any Waters

Fandom: Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Pairing: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain Cheng

@art-the-f-up sorry this comes a lot late!

I live! Okay, well, I know you guys know I live given I updated United as well as started with a Lukanette shot anddddd this fic is to blame for the Lukanette one, I swear! You will see why in the next chapter. Also, this is the chapter where the story finally develops — aka, where I diverge from the plot list for Ladynoir July 2020 as well. I wanted to put this along with Day 6 prompt, but the chapter got twice the usual length and seemed so awkward that I now have one finished and one half written chapter now xD

Thanks for bearing with me, hope you guys enjoy! <3

Chapter 6: Meeting the Future Bride

A beautiful melody echoed through the wide room. As the final chord was struck, the door opened.

“Adrien, your Father wishes to meet you,” the woman at the door said in a monotone, causing the blond at the piano to turn his attention to her.

“Is it about yesterday, Nathalie?” He asked nonchalantly.

“He didn’t disclose the purpose of the meeting.”

Adrien sighed. “Fine, I will be down in five minutes.”

As Nathalie left, Adrien distractedly pressed the piano keys again. Suddenly, the top of his black piano moved a bit and acid green eyes morphed into the instrument, blinking at him. Adrien suppressed a bark of laughter before shaking his head lightly. Reaching over, he moved his hand over the shiny surface, causing the piano to purr a bit. Finally, he got hold of something firm, and plucked the black cat out of the piano.

The cat hissed a bit at the sudden interruption from its relaxation, letting out a small yowl as Adrien cuddled it in his arms. But as the blond stroked his fur, the yowling died down to give way for purring.

“Say, Plagg, you have a knack of spooking me out, don’t you?” Adrien chuckled, dodging his finger away from the cat’s reach as it tried to bite him.

“Whatever kid, I am angry that you disturbed my peaceful catnap,” the cat snarked.

“But you are liking the cuddles~~”

The feline chose not to reply, opting to cuddle closer to his owner.

As he stroked Plagg absentmindedly, Adrien quietly asked, “What do you think Father wants to talk about?”

“Would bet my entire cheese stash this is about last night’s shenanigans,” came the reply.

Adrien sighed and put the cat down, “Guess I brought this upon myself. Stay hidden while I am gone, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill,” Plagg said as he waved a dismissive paw in the air.

Shaking his head lightly, the blond walked out of his room in the direction of the atelier. The atelier where his father was waiting for him, probably to deliver to him another lecture on maturity and responsibility.

Reaching the grand doors, Adrien felt a bout of uneasiness pass over him. Years of subjugation to his father’s wishes had still left their impressions in adulthood. No matter how independent he wished to be, he sometimes couldn’t help but feel as if he was still held under Gabriel’s iron grip.

Knocking on the giant doors, the blond took a deep breath in, trying to calm his racing heart. A monotonous “Come in” came from the inside, prompting him to reach forward and enter the room.

Gabriel Agreste stood behind his desk, his eyes sifting through some random sketches. He spent a good moment or two at his task before turning his attention to Adrien, his neutral expression giving way to a slight frown.

“Hello, Father,” the blond greeted.

“Hello, Adrien. Can I have the pleasure of knowing where you were last night? For my reputation at the ball was severely compromised thanks to your frolicking,” Gabriel asked, cutting to the chase immediately.

Something in Adrien bristled. It had been a long time since his Father had had a proper conversation with him. Still, when they met again, the first thing the older Agreste cared about was Adrien’s whereabouts, and that too just because the Agreste reputation had been compromised?

Doing his best to not let his frustrations seep into his tone, Adrien replied in a cold monotone, “I was away from the ball, Father, to escape the clutches of all those high-class women who apparently were stickier than the stickiest glue we have.”

The older Agreste cocked an eyebrow as he held his chin thoughtfully, his mouth upturned in a slight smile. “Hmm, I guess you have got a point there, young man. Those ladies certainly didn’t care about your personal space, did they?”

The statement baffled Adrien. Was his Father actually agreeing with him for once?

Gabriel walked towards Adrien, clapping his hand on the younger Agreste’s shoulder as he proudly said, “Well, don’t worry son. You won’t have to encounter those ladies again.”

He turned his head up, looking in the direction of the doors before calling out, “Nathalie, please bring our guest in.”

The doors opened and someone walked in. Adrien turned around, only for his gaze to land on the strange new girl who stood in the atelier.

She wore a black satin evening dress with bell sleeves, overlaid in dark orange chiffon and black lace. The sweetheart neckline was a bit too deep for his liking. But what really unnerved the young man was the twinkle in her olive green eyes and the smile etched on her red-painted lips.

“Adrien, meet Ms. Lila Rossi. She has been eager to meet you since yesterday,” Gabriel informed.

“Um, hello?” Adrien greeted her, confused. “You have some news for me?”

He hoped against hope she hadn’t been present at yesterday’s ball, for that would only mean —

The young woman let out a shrill chuckle as she held his shoulder. “I now see what Monsieur Agreste meant by you being a ray of sunshine. Oh dear, I am your fiancée!”

On hearing her claim, Adrien immediately shrank away from her touch, “But—But I don’t even know you!”

He turned to his Father, eyes sparking in rage. “You said I could choose my bride!”

“And you refused that offer by running away, young man. That is no excuse to delay your wedding day.”

The young man tried hard not to grit his teeth at his Father’s words.

“As Adrien stated,” Gabriel turned to Lila, smiling, “You both don’t know each other. Then how about you young people solve that?” Gabriel suggested, heading for the door. “I have an important meeting I need to attend. Hope you two enjoy each other’s company.”

Saying what he needed to, the older Agreste left, leaving a shy Lila and a flabbergasted Adrien behind.

“So,” Lila spoke in a coy tone, “how about we go somewhere private and get to know each other?”

She subtly hooked her arm on his elbow, her fingers lightly trailing up his arms, causing him to cringe. “Somewhere like your ro—”

“The river side!” Adrien interrupted her, much to her chagrin. “The riverside’s a cool idea, Ms. Rossi. Fresh air with much needed quiet.”

And open space , he mentally added sourly.

Putting on his best grin as he approached the door, Adrien asked in a faux cheerful tone, “So, shall we go?”

Lila blinked stupidly for a moment, then broke into a coy smile of her own. “Sure, Adrien.”

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

“And my uncle was a student of the great Beethoven, oh! I wish I had learnt some piano from him before he passed away,” the brunette said in a simpering tone, dabbing at her eyes to wipe away the non-existent tears.

Beside her, Adrien plastered a sympathetic look on his face as he fought the urge to roll his eyes. In the fifteen minutes he had spent with her, this Rossi girl had just bragged on and on about her family and her charity work.

According to her, she personally knew many famous people around the globe. Surprisingly, even though he was an Agreste, Adrien had never heard someone mention the title Rossi in any influential circle, let alone specifically name Lila.

Though he had to commend her on one thing. The woman had a fabulous ability to weave false stories and lie through her teeth.

“Oh, Adrien,” Lila cooed, holding his arm in what was meant to be a soft gesture but certainly was not, causing him to lean back a bit, “I have been talking only about myself all this time. Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?”

He nervously chuckled, rubbing at the nape of his neck in anxiety, “I—uh, you already know much about me, I am not someone unknown in the high-class, right? Uhm, how about you ask me yourself?”

The brunette held her chin in a thoughtful look, apparently thinking of some topic to converse on. Adrien took the beat of silence as a chance to gaze at the river that flowed beside him, his heart calming down a bit on seeing the sparkling waters. Thoughts about the masked beauty who lived underneath the surface helped his anxiety, too.

“Oh! I know what to ask!” Lila suddenly exclaimed, jerking him back to reality. “Is there anything about you that no one knows?”

“Something about me that no one knows?” the blond echoed her question.

“Yes,” she affirmed, leaning into his personal space and causing him to stagger back a little, “you know, since we are soon going to be married, there better be no secrets between us!”

He couldn’t help but stammer. “I, uh—”

Know what? I have a magical cheese-loving black cat who gives me the power to transform into Chat Noir and ALSO! I already have a love interest, a mermaid called Ladybug who is far more beautiful and truthful than you! And woe to me if I am going to tell you anything about this!

Pausing his internal thoughts, Adrien looked towards the river in an attempt to calm himself down. And then an answer came to him.

“Well, since you asked,” he turned to catch Lila’s attention, before looking back at the river again, “I have always felt connected to water.”

“Connected to… water?” Lila echoed his words, disbelief evident in her tone.

“Yes.” The man’s eyes sparkled as he walked to the riverbank and bent down, slightly gliding his hand on the water surface and bringing his wet hand to his eyes, immediately feeling a shiver of pleasure run down his spine. “I feel like the water’s calling out to me, asking me to be one with it.”

There was a pregnant silence between the two, before it was broken by the sound of stifled chuckles. Confused, Adrien turned his head to see the brunette holding a palm over her mouth to prevent laughter from escaping her.

“Did I say something funny, Miss Rossi?” the man asked, his cold tone poorly masking the offense he felt.

“Oh, I-I am sorry Adrien, but…” her voice trailed off as she stifled another laughter, before continuing, “Your thoughts match with the pests of the water.”

“And?” He prompted her, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Well—” the young woman looked at him as if he had asked her about why water existed. Coughing a bit to regain her composure, she continued, “—uhm, you are an Agres—”

“I know who I am and let me tell you, Lila Rossi, my Father’s name does not define my thoughts. I am an independent individual with my own thoughts and feelings, and even if they match with the mermaids or what you call the ‘pests of the water’; I am actually glad they do.”

Getting up, he reached towards Lila, his acidic green eyes causing her to stagger back a bit.

“I-I really didn’t mea-mean to off—” she stammered.

“Save it.”

Saying so, the blond walked off, leaving behind a shocked, yet fuming Rossi girl.

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

“Okay, so she’s just like your Father. And?” Plagg nonchalantly asked, pawing at the ball of yarn that Adrien had tossed to him and completely ignoring his human who laid in his bed, face buried in the pillows.

Adrien lifted his head and exclaimed, “She’s my fiancée, Plagg!”

And plopped his face back into the pillows, muffling his screams.

The cat sighed, pushing the yarn ball away and shaking his head remorsefully. He strutted over to the bed and jumped on his chosen’s back.

“You humans and your melodrama.”

“Whatever, it’s not like you have a secret love interest, you cheese monster,” came the muffled reply.

The cat bounced on the man’s back, before lightly scratching him with a claw and causing him to yelp. “Mind you, my love interest is your Bug’s guardian.”

Adrien turned his head to the side, glancing at his animal friend as a smirk adorned his face.

“Wasn’t Camembert the first and last love of your life?”

“Shush you,” Plagg nudged him on the face, causing the blond to giggle. “Now, if you have stopped moping about your currently messed up civilian life, what plans do you have for wooing your Lady fish tonight?”

Adrien blushed a bit, before his gaze turned to the piano that still stood in the middle of the room. He thought for a moment, then an idea dawned on him.

“I guess I have just the perfect plan, Plagg.”

[whatmack]

“Being attracted to people is exhausting” man Neil mood. Big mood XD I love mattneil

how can neil have energy for ROMANCE when there is EXY

Theair changes once they’re closed inside Matt’s truck (a different one from hisPalmetto days, but no less beloved). Neil knots his hands together in his lapand stares out the window. He can’t stop remembering that this is a date. He’s on a date, a real, physicaldate, with Matt. His best friend Matt. He’s on a date with him. Matt.  A date. For romance and stuff.It’s so much bigger than their Skype dates. Neil wants to open the door andleap out onto the highway. It’s survivable if you know it’s coming. The shirt Matt is wearing has a deep vee down the front, exposing the long lineof his neck. Whenever Neil turns to answer a question or make a comment, he’sovercome with the desire to find out how it feels under his lips. Thinkingabout wanting someone other than Andrew is weird enough, and Neil has hadmonths. Actually doing something about it might give his central nervous systemthe final excuse to tap out.

Mattpulls them into the parking lot of a bistro that has an alarmingly elegantspray of poppies carved into its sign-front. Warning bells sound inside Neil’shead as Matt leads him through exposed-grain wooden tables and couples incollared shirts and pretty dresses. His casual getup marks him instantly as anoutsider. Neil dodges the judgmental glances, curling his shoulders anddropping his gaze to the floor to be as invisible as possible.They get to a small counter at the back that turns out to be the cash register,hidden so as not to offend delicate sensibilities. Matt chats easily with thecashier and is soon handed two large paper bags, receipt attached marking themas take-out. Neil nearly sinks to the floor in relief. He keeps his legs steadyout of sheer will.A childish lisp breaks him out of his thoughts: “Mommy, look at the man withthe scars.” A haggard mother tries frantically to silence her child at anearby table, darting fearful glances up at Neil. She’s not distressed at herchild’s rudeness, Neil realizes, just afraid that he’s heard them. Neilstraightens his spine and bores his eyes into her plastic smile, keeping hisface still and staring much longer than social norms would dictate. Her palemouth turns down. Her son has no such compunctions.“Guy! Guy! What happened to your face?” He points to both his cheeks, eyesbigger than the plate in front of him. “How did you get those?”

“Kidnappingchildren who ask too many questions,” Neil says, not dropping the mother’sgaze. She flinches and yanks her son close to her, but not before a peal oflaughter bursts from him, bouncing off the exposed decorative rafters.Matt is beside him, takeout bags in one hand, the other rising to restproprietary at the small of Neil’s back. “Do we have a problem?” He’s smilingat the mother, and for once—Neil didn’t know it was possible—the expressionholds no warmth.Neil has to give the hostess his respect. It’s the fastest he’s ever beenushered out of a restaurant.

They don’t get back in the truck. Instead, Matt steers Neil across and down ahandful of the city’s long blocks, chatting idly. Neil memorizes the pattern inthe automatic back of his mind. It’s a warm evening, humid but not miserablyso, and people on the street nod instinctively to Matt’s general aura of charm.His hand remains on Neil’s back the whole time, pressing lightly to guide him.It’s something Andrew does when he’s feeling possessive, but not in public. Neilhas always liked the way it makes him feel taken care of.They stop to buy cups of lemonade from a dinky stand (the “best in the city,”Matt proclaims. Neil takes charge of the bags of take-out while Matt fishes forhis wallet), and then they’re tramping through the close-cropped grass of apark, dodging picnickers and other (other!) couples. A frisbee arcs through theair towards them, and Matt catches it one handed, laughing and calling out tothe children tossing it while he sends it back. His easy athleticism makes Neil’sskin burn under his collar.Expecting to be out in the open, Neil is pleasantly surprised when Matt ducksaround an intentionally arranged copse of trees and crouches to put thelemonade cups down behind a hedge. He motions for Neil to sit beside him andhand over the bags.“I was worried this spot would be taken,” Matt says, pulling out napkins and Styrofoamcontainers. “I found it last summer, but I can’t have been the only one. Look.”He points with a plastic fork through a gap in the hedge, and Neil squints tosee an outdoor amphitheater, concrete steps dotted with clusters of sunhattedpeople.“There’s a concert?” Neil has, in the past years, gained somewhat of a passionfor live music. It is as much of a shock to him as anyone else. He blamesKevin.“Most nights, once it’s warm enough. The sound carries decently well to here,and the important part is you can eat as messy as you want and nobody else cansee you.” Matt nudges Neil and passes over one of the containers. The hedge and the trees block them from the rest of the park, enclosing them ina small bower of greenery. On the stage in the amphitheater Neil can see thesound crew taping wires and gesturing to microphones. Matt leans against a treetrunk, leaving space for Neil to curl beside him but letting him decide whetherhe wants to or not.He understands Neil so well. Neil’s fingernails make dents in the Styrofoam.He has to swallow rapidly.“Eat that before it gets cold,” Matt says through a mouthful of food, and thelump recedes from Neil’s throat. He crawls to slump against Matt, heedless ofthe grass stains he’s getting on his jeans, and opens the container to find alarge, crusty-breaded sandwich and a cup of sauerkraut.  “Because your taste in food should be acriminal offense,” Matt says.“Won’t be the only thing criminal about me,” Neil says, elbowing Matt’sstomach. Matt yelps and nearly overturns his own, much less cabbage-y dinner.

It’snot the most comfortable place to be. Roots dig into Neil’s ass, and the drygrass is prickly even through his clothing. He keeps on the lookout for ants.The sandwich is too good to sacrifice to them, as is, true to Matt’s promise,the lemonade. They use every single one of the paper napkins and need more.Neil rubs his sticky hands on the grass, and Matt unselfconsciously sucksdipping sauce off of his fingertips. It’s an action he’s done a hundred timesbefore. This time Neil is allowed to stare.A four-person band takes the stage. Neil misses their name and half the lyrics.The drumbeat thuds up his hipbones to control the pulse of his heart. He closeshis eyes and wiggles into Matt’s lap, listening, feeling the sweat make theirt-shirts stick together. Dusk turns to twilight turns to the fluorescent brightnessof a city night.“I was worried you were going to take me somewhere with white tablecloths. Ortuxedos. Or chandeliers,” Neil says. He wraps the flap of Matt’s jacket tighteraround him. He’d stolen it after sundown had turned the gentle breeze to chill.That is, after all, why Matt has brought it.Matt chafes Neil’s arms. “Give me more credit, c’mon.” He pauses, and Neil canhear him thinking, so he waits. “Would that be…absolutely horrible?”The band finishes their last (no really, their last) encore to the scatteredapplause of the visible audience. There’s the shrieking of feedback as theybegin to pack up, the crew reappearing to monitor the band’s abuse of theequipment. Neil uses the time to figure out how to put his words in an orderthat makes sense.“I don’t get it,” he finally says. Matt’s legs shift under him, tipping Neilinto the crease, and Neil grabs Matt’s shoulder to stay upright as Matt leansback to look at him. “Why does anyone do that stuff? If you care about eachother, it shouldn’t matter.”Matt takes a while to answer. “When I was a kid,” he says, slowly, “I used towatch a lot of those—pirate movies, knights, cowboys…where it was all about thegood men and chivalry and beating the bad guys and winning over the fair lady.And Mom wasn’t…she was busy, but there were a couple months when she had donesomething to her elbow, and she read a whole book of Arthurian legends to me.It was the most time I’d ever spent with her all at once.” He traps Neil’sankle in the circle of his fingers; unties his shoelace when Neil kicks at him.“I guess I thought that that was what it would be like, for me. Stupid, I know.”He tips back, taking  Neil with him sothey’re sprawled on the grass. Neil is grateful to have Matt’s cushioningbetween him and the rocky soil.“Everyone’s stupid when they’re a kid,” Neil says.Matt laughs weakly. Neil can feel it rumbling against him, like the musicearlier. “Yeah. Anyway then I moved in with Dad and it didn’t. Happen likethat, I mean. I think the most romantic thing that happened to me was one timea guy made edibles that were m&m cookies because he knew those were myfavorite. And that was only because he thought I’d suck him off. When I got toPalmetto, I wanted…I think I want to be the one to make it better for otherpeople, you know? It doesn’t have to be like that, but it can. And not just toget someone to put out, or as a trick, or whatever. When I was younger I wantedit to mean something. I guess I still do.”Neil digests that, lying on Matt’s chest, Matt’s arms clasped around his waistas they look up at the sky through the shadowed branches. The city lights aretoo bright to see any stars, but Neil knows where they are. “Do people reallydo that?” He asks. “Have sex with someone because they’re nice to them, or givethem things?”“I don’t remember,” Matt says.Neil flips himself so he’s kneeling with his legs on either side of Matt’s,hand resting on the ground beside his head. With two fingers he traces Matt’snose, his cheek, the swoop of his browbone and the delicate skin of hiseyelids. He is so much bigger than Neil; Neil forgets he was built on ascracked a foundation as the rest of them. Neil wants to kill every singleperson that made Matt have to be strong.“Can I kiss you now?” Matt asks in the breath between them.“Do it,” Neil says, and leans forward first.Matt’s lips do not feel appreciably different from Andrew’s. Slightly fuller,perhaps, but just as soft. Neil goes down on his forearms as Matt’s palms pressagainst his spine, urging him closer. How long Matt has been waiting, Neil doesnot know; Matt does not rush him, keeps the kiss soft, pressing and easingagainst him in waves. Only when Neil tugs at the back of his neck does Mattroll them over so he can pin Neil to the ground with his mouth. Neil can’tfeel the roots with the weight of Matt’s hips on his. His heart is a wellspring, and Matt keeps adding water.“I would try it,” he says against Matt’s lips. “Thetablecloths and chandeliers. If that’s what you want. You can explain it to me.”“We’ll talk about it,” Matt promises, and kisses him again.

Can u believe Matt KISSED Neil after Neil ate sauerkraut…..what a mans

(No they did not fuckin a city park, Matt is a Gentleman)

[writerfae]

@thegirlwithnonickname here are chapter two and three of Always by your side!

I still remember how I wrote chapter three... sitting in my bed listening to "Grow Old With Me" by Michael Schulte on repeat and crying xD I can really recommend that song, it fits the story and especially chapter three very well!

.

Chapter 2

Tyler lay down and took his phone from the bedside table. He dialed Lucas number. Even though it was already pretty late he answered immediately. As usual.

'Hey.'

Tyler closed his eyes. 'Hello Lucas.'

For a moment there was silence. But than Lucas started to talk again.

'They're fighting again, am I right?'

Tyler nodded. He could hear them downstairs.

'Yes', he whispered. Lucas sighed.

'What's the reason this time?'

Tyler clutched to his phone.

'I don't think they need a reason anymore. Especially dad.'

'Damn. Do you want me to come over?'

Tyler shook his head.

'Don't be silly, it's the middle of the night.'

"So what? I can sneak out.'

Tyler wouldn't doubt that. It wouldn't be the first time.

'You don't have to come over.'

'Sure?'

'Yes.'

'Okay, when you think so... Hey, have you heard...'

He started talking about some story he heard in school or on the internet or somewhere else.

He didn't care if the story was true or not. He was just talking.

And Tyler didn't care either, as long as he heard Lucas voice.

It was calm and familiar. That always calmed Tyler down.

After some time Lucas stopped and asked: 'Is everything alright now?'

Tyler took a deep breath. "Yeah everything's alright.'

'Good. Good night Ty.'

'Good night Lucas.'

That's how it went everytime. When Tyler's parents were fighting late at night Tyler called Lucas. Then they talked until Tyler could forget about his fighting parents.

No matter to what hour, Lucas was always there. Tyler would often flee to Lucas and his family when the situation at home was too much for him to take.

And especially when he was a young boy his mom used to send him over to Lucas home when she knew that her husband would start a fight again. She didn't wanted her son to see that. And she knew that Tyler was in good hands when he was with Lucas family.

He was always welcomed there.

~~~

As Tyler walked down the stairs he could hear his mother talking to someone. His father was at work, so that probably meant she had a guest.

Tyler hesitated. He didn't really feel like having company right now.

But suddenly he recognized the second voice - it was Lucas mother.

Tyler walked down a few steps so he could hear the two women talking.

He sat down at one of the stairs so they wouldn't see him and started to listen.

'... really strong, you and your husband.'

'We... we try our best. It's hard. But we try.'

Lucas mom sounded like she had cried. It reminded Tyler of her call on the day Lucas had died.

Just thinking about that made him wanna go back to his room.

'Say, how is Tyler doing?'

Tyler froze as he heard his name.

'He's not feeling good. The boy hasn't really left his room since Lucas funeral. Sometimes I hear him cry, late at night... It's really hard for him.'

'The poor boy. It would've break Lucas heart. Tyler was his best friend.'

'And Lucas was Tyler's best friend.'

Tyler stood up and walked down the rest of the steps.

'And he'll always be my best friend', he said.

The two women looked at him in surprise.

'Tyler', they both said.

Lucas mom stood up, walked towards him and hugged him.

"It's nice to see you Tyler.' She smiled. It was a sad smile.

'Sit down darling', his mother said.

Tyler took a seat and Lucas mom sat down as well.

Tyler's mother brought them a cup of tea.

'I'll leave you alone.' Then she left the room.

Lucas mother took a sip of her coffee. Then she looked at Tyler.

'I'm here because I wanted to thank you. For your speech. I didn't had the chance to do it at the... at Lucas funeral.'

Tyler could remember his speech. He had to stop halfways because he started to cry. In front of the whole community.

'Lucas deserved a way better speech.'

'Don't say that Tyler. It was beautiful. Lucas would've liked it.'

Tyler wasn't sure about that.

'I should've finished it.'

He was still angry about it. Lucas would've ended the speech. He was strong. Tyler wasn't.

Lucas mother shook her head. 'What's important is what you said, not whether you finished it or not. It was really important for us. That's why I want to thank you.'

'You don't have to. He was my best friend. It was the least I could do.'

Lucas mom smiled. 'Yeah... My little boy... he always wanted siblings, did you know that? He used to ask me when he'll finally get a little brother.'

The memory made her laugh. It sounded a bit like Lucas laugh. Tyler missed it...

'He always wanted someone he could play with. Someone he could protect. He never stopped to ask me. That's it, until he met you. Since he befriended you he never asked again. I think... he had you and that was all he needed.'

She took Tyler's hand. 'He really loved you. You were like a brother to him. You know, I'm really glad that you and Lucas found each other.'

'I am glad too. Really. I...' He stopped.

There was so much he wanted to tell her. He wanted to say how important Lucas was to him. How thankful Tyler was for everything he had done for him. That he changed his life. That he showed him what friendship meant. And he wanted to tell her how much he missed Lucas.

But as Tyler looked at Lucas mom he suddenly realized there's no need to say all this out loud. She knew.

She let go of his hand and stood up.

'I have to go now. My husband is waiting for me. Thanks for your time.'

She smiled at Tyler's mom, who just came back into the room.

'I'll bring you to the door', his mom said.

'Okay. Goodbye Tyler.'

Tyler stood up and said goodbye as well.

'Wait, I almost forgot. There's something I wanted to give you.'

She searched her purse for a small object and gave it to him. As he looked at it he knew what it was. He couldn't believe his eyes.

'That's... that's...'

'Lucas bracelet.' Lucas mother nodded.

'I can't accept this...'

The little item in his hand was really the leathern bracelet Lucas used to wear. He already owned it when Tyler met him. Lucas loved the bracelet.

It was a gift from his late grandfather. It was something special to him. And a huge keepsake.

'Yes, you can. Lucas would've wanted you to have it. I know you'll take good care of it.'

She closed his hand around the bracelet and hugged him again. Then she left.

Tyler stood alone in the kitchen. He opened his hand and looked at the bracelet.

It felt like a piece of Lucas came back to him.

And he swore he would never let it go.

.

Chapter 3

'Come on, Tyler. Get out of there', his mom called.

But ten years old Tyler refused to leave his hideout. He was lying in his bed, the blanket raised over his head. He knew it was childish. He didn't care.

'I don't want to.'

Today was the first day at the new school and Tyler didn't want to go. He was scared. Because a new school meant new people and a lot of changes. He hated changes.

'But you have to. Otherwise you'll be late for school.'

Tyler ignored his mom's words. But suddenly a second voice caught his attention.

'Yeah she's right! We'll be late!'

Tyler recognized it immediately.

'Lucas?'

The other boy made his way to Tyler's bed and lifted the blanket a bit to get a look at his friend.

'Yeah it's me. I've been waiting for you, buddy. It's our big day today! Why are you hiding?'

No answer. Lucas sighed.

'Let me guess. It's about school isn't it? I promise you, it will be fun! You don't need to worry.'

'But... I am worried, Lucas. All the new teachers and classmates...'

Lucas was an optimist. Where Tyler only thought about the negative things, Lucas saw what was good. And he tried to let Tyler see it too.

'... won't harm you. Come on Ty, we can't stay in elementary school forever. Sure, there are new people. Some things may change, but that's not a bad thing. Just think about all the new things we'll learn!'

That was one of the reasons Tyler was glad to have him as a friend.

'Besides, you're not alone there! We're in the same class, remember? I'm with you. That won't change. We'll get through it together. We're partners, right?'

Tyler peered from under his blanket to look at Lucas, who was smiling at him. And he returned the smile, because he knew that Lucas was right after all.

No matter what might happen. No matter what might change. He wasn't alone. His friend was there. They were a team.

'Then let's go, partner!' Tyler, now a little less scared, finally got out of his hideout.

'That's what I wanted to hear.', Lucas said.

Tyler's mom once said that one of the most beautiful things about Lucas and Tyler's friendship was how they were always there for each other and how they complemented the other perfectly.

Lucas had enough joy living inside of him to lift Tyler up when he was feeling down and Tyler's steady personality calmed Lucas down when he overextended himself.

~~~

As Tyler went into the school building, he almost felt like back when he had his first day at this school. Everything seemed strange and exclusive. The many students, the colorless walls and the noise.

But this time he was alone. Lucas wasn't there to make him feel safe.

Tyler had begged his parents to let him stay at home for another few days. But they said no, so he had to go.

He felt completely overstrained. He spent the last few days alone without talking to someone besides his parents and Lucas mom.

Now that he was surrounded by people again, he was lost.

It wasn't just that he was alone, everyone was starring at him too. Everyone knew about Lucas. And everyone knew that Tyler was his best friend.

So everyone was looking at the guy who just lost his only real friend.

It must've been a strange sight. Tyler had the hood of his hoddie pulled down low to cover up his insomnia and grief marked face and to block everyone out.

But the strangest thing was to see him without Lucas.

Even in school there had always been Lucas and Tyler, Tyler and Lucas. Everyone knew that. The people were used to see the two of them together all the time.

Tyler without Lucas however... That wasn't normal.

And for Tyler it was a nightmare.

He struggled to get through the lessons. He never said a word. All he did was sitting in his classes, lost in thought, playing with Lucas bracelet around his wrist and starring at the blackboard. He couldn't recognize a single word that was said during the lessons.

He couldn't focus. Tyler just wanted to escape.

He could do without the trivial lessons and the pitiful glances of teachers and students.

~~~

'Tyler! Hey! Wait! Tyler!'

Tyler kept walking. All he wanted to do is survive the break and the lessons afterwards so he can go home again. Was it that much to ask for?

'Come on, wait! Hey!'

Someone grabbed his arm. Tyler stopped and turned around. It was Maya.

'What do you want?'

Maya was one of the people Lucas and Tyler spent their breaks with.

It was a small group of people that started to gather around the two boys in the past few years.

Slightly shocked by the rough sound of Tyler's voice Maya let go of his arm.

'I-I just wanted to ask you where you're going. Surely our friends are already waiting. We normally meet every break, remember?'

Actually Maya and the others were Lucas friends, not his. Because everyone loved Lucas. And they accepted Tyler, but he was never a real part of their group. Or at least it never felt like it. He never felt really close to any of them.

'Well, go and meet your friends then. I prefer being alone.'

'But why don't you wanna come with us? I'm sure it would be good for you to have some company. Lucas would've wanted...'

'Don't you tell me what Lucas would have wanted!', Tyler cut her off.

Maya flinched.

'Tyler...'

But Tyler wasn't listening.

'No! I can't sit there with you as if everything is alright. Because it's not! Maybe you can do it, laughing and talking like you always do. But I can't. Not when Lucas is gone and you all are acting as if everything is like it used to be. Nothing is like it used to be anymore."

Tyler didn't noticed that he overacted. He was just full of anger and frustration. It was all too much for him. And he wasn't able to control himself, not yet.

'That's not true Tyler, and you know it! Of course nothing is like it used to be. Lucas is dead and that's horrible! And we all miss him so much. You might not think that, but we do! Just because we still meet up doesn't mean we forgot about him or that he wasn't important to us. In contrary! Because he was. And he'll always be. But life has to go on Tyler. Please, I just mean well.'

Maya sighed.

'Listen, I know you two were pretty close to each other. You knew him longer than any of us. And I know how you feel. But what you just said about us isn't fair.'

'Leave me alone!', Tyler shouted. 'You know nothing!'

'He was my friend too. Our friend. You're not the only one who lost him.'

'Not the only one, huh? Not the only one! But he was my only friend, understand? The only one I ever had. My best friend! For nine years! Nine damn years.

You haven't spent nearly every day with him since you were eight years old. He never visited you as you broke your leg because you fell from a tree while climbing or tried to comfort you because your parents were fighting again.

He was always there. And now he's gone and I'm alone! I'm alone...'

His last words were just a whisper. Tyler felt how tears started streaming down his face. He couldn't tell if it was because of anger or grief or both. All he knew was that he had to leave. Leave this horrible school.

So he wiped of his tears, turned around and ran.

Away from the school building, past hundreds of students. No one stopped him. Maya stayed behind. Speechless.

~~~

'Lucas?'

'Yeah?'

'We'll always be friends, won't we?'

'Of course!'

'No matter what's gonna happen?'

'No matter what's gonna happen.'

'Even when we're adults?'

'Even when we're old and grey. You and I. Till the end.'

'Promise?'

'Promise!'

~~~

The last time Tyler visited Lucas and his spot was on the day Lucas died. He never dared to visit it afterwards. Until now.

After he ran away from school he got back to this place. He and Lucas used to be there a lot.

Tyler didn't knew where else to go. He couldn't go back to school. Or home.

This was the only place he could be alone. No one would notice his breakdown. Or hear his screams.

'You promised! You hear me? Promised! You said... you said you and I... we... you said...'

Tyler thought they had a lot of time left. Their whole lives. After all they would always be friends. They would always be there for each other. No matter what. That's what they promised each other.

But fate didn’t seem to care about little boys’ promises.

'Why? Why you of all peolpe?'

Tyler sat down on the floor, his back against a large rock.

Slowly his anger turned back into the familiar feeling of grief and despair.

Suddenly he just felt... exhausted. So he closed his eyes for a while.

As he was sitting there, eyes closed, he had the sudden feeling that he wasn't alone.

But that was impossible. No one ever came here. Still, it felt like someone... or something was with him.

So he opened his eyes and what he saw shocked him. There was indeed someone. Right in front of him. And he watched him with concern.

Tyler recognized his face immediately. This face - He would know it in death.

But... that wasn't possible.

'Lucas?'

[emeraldwaves]

Title: The French Thing Pairing:  Jerejean Rating: E Word Count:  3,681 Read on Ao3 Summary:  

After getting a little tipsy at a party, Jean just wants to leave to be alone with his secret boyfriend.

Here I go with my love of AFTG XD <3, Full fic under the cut!

Jean learns early on at USC that alcohol does not agree with him. It hits his bloodstream hard, floating through his veins and jumbling all of his thoughts. His body feels like it's floating, the music in the dorm room thumping in time with his heart.

"You don't get drunk very often, do you?" Jeremy's face comes into view and Jean's heart leaps into his throat.

Jeremy is so warm and bright, he might burn Jean, but he wants to take the risk.

"Tu es comme le soleil," Jean slurs, stumbling toward Jeremy. He's so close and Jean's fingers tingle, desperate to touch. He can't. They don't do that here, in front of everyone.

"Woah there," Jeremy says, a chuckle escaping his perfect lips. "You're doing the French thing, Moreau." Jeremy always speaks his name in such an American way: 'More-Row'. It lacks all the French finesse, no round syllables. But it's so damn charming and Jean hates him.

"The French... oh." He forgets Jeremy can't understand French. He forgets that he doesn't have to hide his words from him either, but sometimes he does it on purpose, just so he can see Jeremy look a little confused.

"What did you say?" Jeremy asks, doing his adorable head tilt.

"Nothing," Jean says. There are some things Jeremy doesn't need to hear in English.

Leaning in closer, Jeremy whispers, "Jean," and shit, he wants to kiss him so bad. He always loves how Jeremy's lips feel against his own. They're never harsh, always gentle, sometimes a little playful, nipping and sucking on Jean’s. The thought alone makes his legs feel even weaker.

The alcohol churns in his stomach, the back of his neck heating up. Jeremy says something after his name, but he's too distracted to listen. He knows he should look at Jeremy's eyes, they're beautiful too, but his gaze is focused on his lips and all he can think about is Jeremy's lips on his, on his jaw, on his neck, on his skin.

If he could just lean forward a little bit...

"Jean," Jeremy repeats his name, and Jean wouldn't mind hearing it a few more times.

He glances to the side, seeing members of their team and cheer squad dancing. One of the strikers is making out with a cheerleader in the corner, but most of them are grinding and jumping around. Is this dancing? Jean will never fully understand college parties.

His eyes fall on Laila and Alvarez laughing and dancing together. Laila's hands hook around Alvarez's neck. They're swaying together, hips sliding back and forth. Alvarez tilts her head back, laughing and Laila presses her nose to Alvarez's shoulder, the two moving in time with the music.

Jean wants that. He's terrible at dancing, but he could do that. Move close to Jeremy, their hips brushing together. Just thinking about it shoots little jolts of pleasure straight up his spine.

No one would notice. "Danse avec moi," he whispers, his fingers lacing with Jeremy's. He swipes his thumb over his palm.

A small smile pulls across Jeremy's lips. "Okay, I know my French is horrible, but I can guess that 'danse' probably means dance." Jeremy says. "But you're drunk. You gotta get some water."

"No, I'm not drunk," he says each word very slowly, punctuating the phrases so Jeremy can tell he is coherent.

"Uh," Jeremy laughs, "I think you are. C'mon, let's go to the kitchen."

"I don't need water," he says, shaking his head. Still, his body flops against Jeremy, stumbling with him. Dancing is probably a horrible idea, he won't be able to stand up straight if they do.

"You do, trust me. Tomorrow you will be saying, uh, 'mercy'." He grabs a glass from the cabinet, running it under the water.

"It's merci," Jean snorts, flopping against the counter.

"That's it. Now drink."

He stares at the glass, then glances toward Jeremy. He's thirsty, but not for this water. He smacks his lips together. "Let's leave."

"What?" Jeremy frowns and pushes the cup toward him. "I'm not doing anything until you drink this whole glass."

Jean sidles closer, looking once again at Jeremy's lips. "J'aimerai t'embrasser," he whispers, letting his forehead rest against Jeremy's shoulder.

"Jean," Jeremy whispers. "Everyone is in the next room."

Fingers trail through his hair and Jean shivers. He doesn't care who is in the next room or who will come in and see them. He just wants to wrap himself in Jeremy; his touch, his kiss, his everything.

"I don't care," he mutters, leaning towards the touch. It's here he feels safest, anywhere where Jeremy is. It's comfortable and so warm, his body hums with pleasure and security, something he's never experienced before. For so long his life was cold and raw, and now...

Maybe this is just the alcohol speaking.

Jeremy seems to think that too. "Yeah, but you do care. I know you do. You told me-"

"Then let's go," he mumbles, rubbing his nose against Jeremy's neck. He smells like alcohol and some sort of rustic bark. Jean can never remember the name of Jeremy's aftershave, but he recognizes the faint smell.

"You're drunk, Jean," Jeremy says softly. His fingers brush through Jean's hair once more and he quickly pecks his forehead. "C'mon... I'll take you back to your room."

"Okay," he mumbles, leaning against him while Jeremy laces their fingers together. He is, maybe, a little drunk, so it won't look odd, with Jeremy leading him out of the room.

"Alvarez!" Jeremy calls out, lifting his other hand. "I'm taking Jean back to his room."

"I knew he was drinking too much too fast," Laila scoffs.

Alvarez snorts, her mouth curved into a signature smirk. She's got her arms draped over Laila, resting her chin on her shoulder. "Be safe you two."

Laughing, Jeremy shakes his head. "I'm gonna get him some water and tuck him in and then I'll come back."

"Sure you will, see ya' Cap," Laila says, sarcasm dripping off her words. The two girls are so focused on each other they don't notice anything strange about the way Jean is leaning into Jeremy. Or so Jean wants to believe… Sometimes it seems like the two of them know

Maybe hiding whatever they are is dumb. It's not like the team would care... but Jeremy is the face of the Trojans. He's the sunshine captain and Jean is like a dark cloud thrust upon USC. They didn't have much choice, but Jeremy had welcomed him with open arms. The last thing Jean wants is to make anything difficult for Jeremy. He knows being gay in this sport isn’t easy… Raven voices echoing in his ear.

Jeremy tells him it’s okay, he doesn’t care about hiding it. Jean insists, for Jeremy’s sake.

But Jean also really wants to kiss him.

They stumble into the hallway and Jean squeezes Jeremy's hand. This is where he feels most comfortable, walking with Jeremy, hand in hand, down the halls of USC. It's unexpected, feeling like he's home here.

People accept him for who he is despite all the frustrations he's experienced along the way and for all the grief he's given them. Jeremy has dealt with the worst of it; he's witnessed Jean's anger, his sorrow, all the dark parts of his soul Jean was desperate to erase. Jeremy reaches out his hand and offers it to Jean every time.

By now, Jean has taken Jeremy's hand more times than he can count. Somehow it's comforting. Somewhere, deep down, it makes him happy.

That's the scariest part, teetering on happiness, having it, and knowing he could potentially lose it.

"Jean?"

He whips his head up, realizing he had been staring at their hands the entire walk back. They're outside his dorm right now.

"Yeah?"

"Your key?" Jeremy asks, reaching up to touch his cheek. "You're such a cute drunk, you know?"

It’s not the first time Jeremy’s said something like that, but heat rises to Jean's cheeks. Jeremy's compliments are always so genuine, it throws him off. He's used to biting sarcasm that buries itself under his skin, but this is so different.

"A-Am I?" he stammers. He actually feels a little messy, like he's ruined the whole party for Jeremy.

"Mhm," Jeremy nods, a smirk pulling across his lips, "and the faster you get your key out, the faster we can get in there and do whatever you want."

Jean swallows and shoves his hand into his pocket, searching for the silver key attached to his USC I.D. He clears his throat and the key shakes in his hand. He leans against the frame of the doorway, trying to steady himself to get inside.

Jeremy snorts, taking the key from his hand to turn the lock, swinging the door open. "C'mon," he chuckles, pulling Jean's hand to lead him inside. Jean fumbles for the edge of the door shutting it behind him.

Jean flops back against the door. "I'm sorry... I... I shouldn't... I shouldn't have..." He searches for the words, but somehow English is escaping him.

Turning around, Jeremy lets out a soft sigh. "Jean, you have nothing to be sorry for. You never do. I'll tell you this as many times as I have to. You know this right?" He reaches up and holds Jean's face in his palms.

Jean nods, his hot cheeks brushing against Jeremy's reassuring touch.

"I... I don't know why you're so hell bent on keeping this a secret, but you know I don't mind being public with you. We can dance and kiss at the parties all you want."

"I don't... want to make more problems for you," Jean whispers, trying to keep his breathing in check.

A snort slips from Jeremy's lips and he moves his hands to his shoulder. "Jean... it's honestly harder to hide it at this point. Shit... Do you know how much I wanted to kiss you in that kitchen?"

"I told you I wanted you to," Jean whispers. Sometimes it's hard to admit that, how much he loves being intimate with Jeremy, but right now he's intoxicated enough to say it.

"Is that what you said in French?" Jeremy asks, laughing.

Jean nods and Jeremy reaches up to stroke his fingers through Jean's dark hair. "So... is it okay if I kiss you then?" Jeremy asks. He always asks, never wanting to create an uncomfortable environment for Jean. Even a little intoxicated, Jean knows what he wants; it’s not like they haven’t talked about this before. He's made his desires clear tonight, and Jeremy's leaning in towards him, his lips just inches away from Jean's.

"Oui," he says, "please."

Jeremy slots their lips together immediately, his thumbs brushing against Jean's jawline. A whimper leaves Jean's lips, and sometimes he judges himself for how easily turned on Jeremy gets him.

He puts one hand on Jeremy's hip, pulling him closer. He wants to move with him, like they're dancing and Jeremy catches on, rolling toward him. His other hand grabs at the back of Jeremy's shirt, his fist clenching hard.

His head presses against the door, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Jeremy's tongue presses into his mouth, and Jean invites it eagerly, his own tongue wrapping around Jeremy's. They move together, both chasing the pleasure of the kiss. Jeremy never fights to dominate, he does what Jean allows and follows his lead.

Jeremy presses his knee between Jean's legs and he rolls forward, desperate to create friction.

Nipping at Jean's lip, Jeremy chuckles. "I will never get tired of kissing you. You're amazing at it."

Jean blushes, his eyes staring at Jeremy's lips. "Then... don't stop," he urges.

"I won't," Jeremy smirks, a hint of playfulness in his eyes. It usually means Jeremy has a plan of what he wants to do. He always gets easily excited when they make out, and Jean's body becomes his playground. Jeremy explores every possible way he can make Jean feel good. The consideration is mind blowing, and it makes every action more pleasurable than the last.

Jeremy's hands find his hips, pressing him close to the door. He trails down Jean's jaw, his tongue lapping at Jean's pulse, his lips wrapping around the skin of his neck. "Ngh..." Jean grunts, pressing his head against the door, his chest heaving.

Jeremy's fingers touch over his toned stomach, his hands making Jean's hot skin even hotter.

When Jeremy touches him, the ghosts of his past evaporate, wisps of pain and anger dissipating. Harsh hands that squeezed his neck are replaced by gentle, calloused fingers dancing over his racing pulse. His body, normally so tense at the idea of intimacy, something so forced in the past, now melts under Jeremy's soft kisses and tender hands.

It feels like he's floating, his veins rushing with excitement. His cock twitches in his pants, the tightness almost unbearable. By now they're usually moving to the bed, but Jeremy makes no move to adjust their position.

His tongue rolls against Jean's neck, the hot breath tickling the wet skin. Jean's fist curls into Jeremy's blond locks, trying to ground himself. Jeremy's lips suck at his pulse and down the length of his neck until he reaches the crook and he pants against Jean's pale skin. "Can I just..." he breathes, unable to get the words out.

"W-What?" Jean asks, his chest tight. He doesn't want Jeremy to stop, his body on fire.

His hand brushes over his crotch, touching the obvious bulge in his pants. "Can I use my mouth?"

Jean swallows, desire pooling in the pit of his stomach. His cock betrays him, twitching against Jeremy's hand. They've never done anything like that; no one has ever done that for him. He's been told to use his mouth plenty of times, but never has it been the other way around. But... Jeremy is asking. He wouldn't be using him.

"You want to?" Jean asks. Jeremy's lips are swollen, his cheeks flushed, pupils dilated... he's turned on, Jean knows him well enough to know that.

"Yeah, if you're okay with it."

Jean swallows, his stomach twisting into knots he's desperate to unravel. He nods, if something feels strange, he can trust Jeremy to stop if he wants.

Jeremy kisses him one last time, letting his lips linger before Jean watches him drop to the ground. He fiddles with the button on his pants and pulls them down. Then his thumbs hook into Jean's briefs, releasing his cock. A shiver rolls through his spine and he tries to steady his feet. He's already wobbly and if Jeremy is going to touch him, it's going to make him weaker.

Jeremy leans forward, licking up the full length of his shaft and Jean sighs, pressing the back of his head to the door. "Hah..." he pants, rolling himself against the door. Jeremy swirls his tongue around the tip and licks back down. He's always like this, playful and teasing. Every fiber of Jean's being screams to beg for it, pleading for Jeremy to go faster. Instead, he focuses on his breathing, trying to keep himself in place. He trusts Jeremy, the blond always knows what he's doing and how to make Jean completely unravel.

His tongue slides back up and he wraps his mouth around Jean's tip, ready to swallow him whole. Jean gasps, a shaky breath slipping through his lips. Jeremy lowers his head all the way down, and holy fuck his mouth is so wet and warm and the muscle of his tongue rolls against the belly of his cock. "Ngh!" Jean grunts and his head falls forward, his dark hair brushing across his forehead. He groans, and desperately pulls air into his lungs, breathing heavily. It's almost too much.

Jeremy begins to bob his head, his wet lips sucking and sliding up and down Jean's hard length. "Hah... J-Jeremy..." he mutters, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

Jeremy pulls back, panting, drool rolling down his chin. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, and laps at the pre-cum pooling on Jean's tip. "Good?" he asks.

Jean nods, making a poor attempt to catch his breath. "Y-Yeah..." he chokes out.

"Good," Jeremy smirks. "You know you can make noise, everyone is at the party."

His cheeks flush. Even after all this time, Jean still struggles with it. Noises mean he's enjoying himself, and while he knows that's a good thing, it sometimes can be hard for his brain to process.

"I know," he mutters, and Jeremy nods before getting back to work. Jean's cock twitches with anticipation as Jeremy wraps his mouth around him again. His sac tightens, the pleasure twisting in his stomach. How Jeremy can get him to this level is incredible.

Jeremy begins to bob his head up and down fast, moving all the way to the base of his cock. He almost chokes, and Jean feels hot drool rolling down his length as Jeremy slurps at the base.

"Ah!" Jean moans loud, unable to hold back. His back arches off the door, his head pressing down against the wood. His hand jerks forward, snaking his fingers through Jeremy's blond hair. He grips him, desperate to cling to something.

Jeremy pulls back up his length and suckles on Jean's tip, he slurps and circles his tongue around it, wrapping his hand around the base to stroke up and down while his tongue focuses on the tip, flicking over his slit. "Hah... Hah..." Jean pants, each vertebrae of his spine rolling against the door, his body trembling with pleasure.

Replacing his hand with his mouth, Jeremy swallows Jean's cock, the heat pooling in his abdomen all over again. "Jeremy, shit," he whispers, and he makes the mistake of looking down.

Jean watches Jeremy move up and down, swallowing his length over and over. He looks good and Jean can barely hold back. His stomach drops, watching how erotic Jeremy looks. The feeling of his tongue against the underside of his cock is overwhelmingly delicious. Shit. His blues eyes turn to stare up at him, his lips curled around Jean's cock. Jeremy's cheeky, and he teases Jean, by moving slowly down his length and slowly back up, while staring up at him.

It really is too much.

Jean moans, his hips twitching against his will, his cock thrusting deeper into Jeremy's mouth. He doesn't want to force anything, doesn't want to make Jeremy feel uncomfortable, but when Jean starts to move, Jeremy takes it in stride, opening his mouth and moving faster to match him.

Jeremy hums then, moaning around Jean's cock and the vibration makes Jean lurch forward, both his hands gripping Jeremy's hair as he attempts to steady himself.

The moaning, his tongue, the wetness of Jeremy's mouth, how hot he is... Jean can't take it. It's definitely too much.

"Jeremy... I-I think I... ngh!" he grunts. He squeezes Jeremy's hair, trying to warn him he's about to cum, trying to hold back so Jeremy can move. Instead, Jeremy pushes forward, keeping his mouth open, his tongue pushing against the belly of Jean's cock, urging him to finish.

"J-Jeremy!" he gasps, trying to warn him once again, but he groans, his hips twitching. "Ah! Merde!"

Pleasure rushes through his body, his fingers tingling and legs trembling. He cums, shooting his finish down Jeremy's throat. He doesn't move, he doesn't even flinch, he swallows, and licks up Jean's length, sighing when he pops off of his tip. "I always know it's good when you do the French thing," he smirks, brushing his thumb over his own lip.

"C-Curse?" Jean stammers.

"Yup," Jeremy says, popping the ‘p’ with his lips. He looks rather proud of himself.

Panting, Jean nods. "...it... it was really good. You didn't have to... to swallow..."

Jeremy pushes himself up and presses his lips to Jean. "Nah, I wanted to see you come undone. It was worth it."

Nodding, Jean kisses him back, his lips trembling. His legs feel like Jell-o, like he wants to slide down the door and lay on the floor until the pleasure still throbbing in his veins subsides.

Jeremy takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. "Come on," he says, as if he senses Jean's need to sit down. He shakily pulls up his pants, leaving the button undone.

"Ah, aren't you going back to the party?" Jean asks, glancing at the door as Jeremy pulls him away, leading him over to his bed. Jean flops onto the side and stares up at Jeremy. "Or I could..."

"Don't worry about it, just scoot over," Jeremy chuckles. He shrugs his jacket off, climbing into Jean's bed to lay next to him.

"But-"

"Jean," Jeremy says. "Look, I wanna be here with you. I don't really care about going back to the party, and I'm fine to just fall asleep, you don't have to reciprocate."

"But... I like making you feel good, too."

"I know," Jeremy whispers, cupping his cheek. He leans in to press their lips together one more time. "But sometimes I just wanna make you feel good, to make up for all the times you've felt bad."

Jean wants to push him out of the bed for being so damn pure, but he doesn't. He never wants to let Jeremy go. He moves closer, sighing as he rests his forehead against Jeremy's. "Thank you," he whispers.

"You don't have to thank me Jean," he chuckles softly, lazily draping his arm over Jean's hip.

"I want to," he says softly.

"Okay," Jeremy smiles. "Then, you're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Jean thinks he enjoys Jeremy too much sometimes, like this thing he has is too good to be true. But he sees Jeremy lying here with him, smiling and keeping him close and Jean can't help but cling to his happiness. He never thought he would be given such a privilege and now that he has it, he doesn't ever want to let Jeremy go.

Right here, by his side; he finally feels safe.

[disregardcanon]

end of year writing meme

Total Stories Written: 27

Total Words Written: 147413 Average Words Per Story: if you do the mean, then it’s 5,459 Shortest Story: the aftermath of rebirth at 338 words Longest: Paint a New Horizon at 23,673 words

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted?

I wrote fewer stories than I expected, but they were far longer than I expected. I wrote a lot of 11k fics. 

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write most?

pairing: Sansa/Margaery (throwback to 2015 omg) 

genre: I don’t feel like I had a certain genre I wrote a lot of tbh. 

fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January?

THE POKEMON GAMES! Like, oh my god. I wrote fanfiction about soul silver. I wrote fanfiction about POKEMON WHITE. what. the fuck. Like, technically the first fic i ever wrote was about pokemon but i never expected to do it again. 

Did you take any writing risks this year?

I wrote 2 very long asoiaf fics about difficult subject matter. Combined, they add up to more than 40 thousand words of fic. 

Do you have any fanfic or general writing goals for the new year?

Fanfiction wise, I would like to finish up some of my wips and try to improve. 

In general, I would like to figure out more what I want my writing to look like moving forward and how to go about that. I’m experiencing some growing pains, so I need to reassess my style and strategy and see what I need to readjust moving forward. 

From the past year of writing, what was your…

Best story of this year: Paint a New Horizon

This feels like a bit of a cop out since it’s the longest, but I am very firmly the most proud of this fic out of anything I wrote this year. I feel like the emotional bits were satisfying, the romance worked nicely, and the action kept me interested in a way that almost never does. I was able to commit to TWENTY THREE THOUSAND WORDS and put my ALL INTO IT! that is. monumental for me. I’ve written long fics in the past, but those were chaptered and frankly, not as good as this one was or as much work. 

I love this verse so well that I might actually go back and write more in it later when I have time. I have the beginnings of a sequel ruminating around in my drats. 

Most popular story of this year: normally I split this up into multiple categories, but by hits, kudos, OR comment threads The Times They Are a Changin’ comes out on top. The mcu fandom really went nuts over Carol and Maria, didn’t they? 

Personal favorite:

Washing Machine Heart is a fic that I hold close to my heart. 1. I wrote this one when I was on a study abroad in Latin America, which is the coolest thing that I have ever done 2. it’s just. really well done. I’ve never written something quite so messy and unpleasant in a realistic way before. It’s ugly in the way that Steven Universe: Future is ugly right now. In exactly the way that “Washing Machine Heart” should imply 3. oh god was it cathartic 

Most under-appreciated:

Maternal, Paternal at 71 kudos, I know I shouldn’t call this one “under-appreciated”, but it’s in a few VERY happening tags, in a very happening fandom with a VERY popular set of characters. I’d think that people would be more interested in reading “Endeavor is an asshole and eventually Dabi kills him” but like. it’s whateves I guess XD

Most fun to write:

We Could Be Heroes both semesters that I had during 2019 were. super fucking stressful. the only times that I’ve had that were productive for fic was January break, summer vacation, and December break. 

Last April on my birthday, though, I rewarded myself and after I got home from hanging with some friends I just sat down at my laptop and didn’t think about literally anything. I just wrote. I took a format that I knew I liked and didn’t have to think about (talk show format with an OC I already made for a different story) and then 3 characters I was very interested in then (Melissa Shield, Monica Rambeau, and Tahani Al-Jamil) and then I just. ran with it. I wrote and wrote and wrote and it was amazing. I didn’t think about it being good or about my homework or literally anything other than this talk show lady talking to these three cool characters. 

It was wonderful. 10/10 would do it again. 

Story with the single sexiest moment: 

Familiarity. It is literally the only thing I wrote this year with ANY sex in it, so it’s automatically the sexiest. Way to go Margaery you did it. 

Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story:

Um. Just Souring Grapes in general. 

Most challenging to write:

Biggest disappointment:

Shouto Todoroki Joins the Supervillain Dads Club I hoped to finish this fic last year in January. It’s currently December and I haven’t been able to look at the thing since. 

I think it’s mainly because I just lost the drive, but it’s also kind of because wips stress me the fuck out. And also I had 2 stressful semesters so that doesn’t help.  Favorite character to write: my favorite characters to write this year were both Todorokis! Dabi and Fuyumi are both a joy to write, I swear

Favorite opening lines: 

Serena falls down at the kitchen table feeling as cold and distant as the room does. The harsh lines and open floor plan were supposed to show a minimalism only possible with wealth, but to Serena it's always felt empty.

A Woman’s Place

Surprisingly, Theon’s life does not change much either way after Maron is taken to the Greenlands. Balon does not magically start paying attention to him, even though he’d prayed every night to the Drowned God that he would. 

Pretty Little Thrall 

The Twins are a grand fortress spanning the width of the Green Fork. A great stone tower stands on each side of the river, with a greater bridge running in between. The Frey stable boys have taken their horses, and Jeyne walks as close to the river as she dares as they make their way to the tower. She watches the river rush beside her in awe. She’s never seen a river run so wild before. It seems like the very waters rushing beside her want to rise up and drown her themselves.

Good Family

Favorite closing lines:

That's what she gave up fighting the Kree for, and Carol will do everything that she can to bring them back. She's stopped fighting for some things, but she'll never stop fighting for this. If the times don't change on this one, she'll make them. She'll rip that gaudy fucking glove off of that bastard's grape crush colored hand and shove it up his ass if that's what it takes to get her family back.

The Times They Are a Changin’

"Alright, then. Let’s do this together,” you say, “as a team.” You think that you really like this "being friends" thing. Maybe after you beat Red, you and Silver can go to Hoenn- or Sinnoh. Unova even. Somewhere new and exciting with new people to beat. It’s nice to have a partner who’s not a Pokemon, for once. You think that, together, you could be the best trainers that ever lived.

Maybe the best friends too.

no silver medals (when you get the gold together) 

The stars spread out above you- the universe expanding outwards onwards and upwards, excelsior.

Excelsior

Other favorite lines:

What does a grape do under pressure? Grapes tend to shrivel in the sunlight. Turn to raisins, actually. She doesn’t remember what poem that was from, but she remembers reading something like that in English class once. Some poem that she didn’t understand really, and might not have gotten even if it were in Japanese. She doesn’t think that’s what she’s doing.

Does it ferment, like wine? Her father always joked about her mother aging like a fine wine, growing more beautiful every year, growing stronger. But Miné isn't gaining strength, not really. Not right now. Maybe she’s just souring, getting more and more bitter about things that she can't have. Maybe she's just souring grapes.

Souring Grapes

“The authorities confirmed that Endeavor was not even in the state during the accident, and Shouto’s doctors confirmed that the burns were consistent with boiling liquid, not an open flame.” Superman looks visibly relieved to hear that.

“But that does not mean that I trust him,” Batman says, “I would prefer to keep an eye on him.”

“Why would you want to keep an eye on him, he’s a superhero ,” Captain Marvel says, with none of The Wisdom of Solomon but all of The Innocence of a Ten Year Old, “that means that he’s a good guy, right?”

Shouto Todoroki Joins the Supervillain Dads Club

The thought stabs into his brain like a needle, like the scent of pine, like the memories he’s never wanted back. Robb was the one person who ever cared about him, and Theon betrayed him to parade around as a prince and become Ramsay Bolton’s broken little toy. He swore himself to the little boy who took him by the hand when he came to Winterfell as a scared little boy and never let go. And then Theon betrayed him.

“Theon,” the trees whisper,” Theon.” The crows in the branches take flight, cawing his name, and he feels something else take flight too. His heart, beating somewhere deep inside his chest.

“Theon,” it throbs, “Theon, Theon.”

He wants to do something, something reckless, something brave. Something that makes him redeemable.

He can’t save Robb, but he can save someone . He can save Robb’s fake sister. Theon can save Jeyne from some of her pain.

If You Believe in Me (I’ll Still Believe)

She dared a glance forward and met Margaery’s eyes- a deep, chocolate brown. They were warm and inviting and Margaery’s little curly bangs framed her face like a heart. Margaery’s head went over the back of the booth and it seemed to almost be floating against the flowery wallpaper. It looked like Margaery was lying out in a field of flowers- the Maiden gazing up at the clouds and trying to make shapes of them.

She could imagine Margaery telling her that this one is a flower, like Tyrell, and this one’s a deer, like Baratheon, and this one’s a dick, like Joffrey. She giggled nervously again and felt her cheeks flush. She’d never felt this giddy and unsteady in her whole life.

“Are you alright, Sansa?” Margaery asked cautiously. She reached across the table and laid a hand over Sansa’s own. The touch was warm and tender, and Sansa felt the blush from her toes to the tip of her head.

“I’m perfect!” Sansa nearly screeched. Margaery laughed at that, but her look was kind.

“Yes, darling,” she said with a smile that was wide and fond, “I think that you are.”

Lesbian. The word wasn’t supposed to fill her with such a warm, hopeful feeling, was it? She wiggled awkwardly in her chair, trying to get situated and stop feeling so silly and excited and vulnerable, but it didn’t fix anything. She felt Margaery’s leg brush against hers under the table. It sent a jolt through her.

Lesbian.

Sansa took a shaky breath. She thought to herself that there might be something to that.

Paint a New Horizon 

[nymphl]

Bloodbound - A vampire!Hux x Reader - Prologue - Leave a Scar

A/N - Hello! xD Here we go with another piece of my stories posted to tumblr. This is a vampire!Hux story with lots of... well... what can I say? blood and sex,  it’s a given Politics involved. Apart from the prologue the chapters are usually big +7k. I know space vampires is not usually a concept that people would be excited to read, but bear with me and I promise a good read xD  This story is a gift to @sassmasterjedi

Story summary:  Bound by blood... After you left the First Order and joined the Resistance, moved with a deep hatred for General Armitage Hux, you never expected to meet said man in a Gala in Canto Bight, nor that your past was intimately interlaced with his. When the past is written in blood, can you start anew, a new chapter of your own, or are you forever bound to him? When all is said and done, can you still keep on hating a man who has all eternity to hate himself?

Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.

AO3 tags:  from lovers to enemies; from enemies to lovers; partners to lovers; eventual romance; vampire!hux; vampires in space; vampires, blood, blood binds; First Order; Resistance; power play; politics; Hux backstory; political alliances; political betrayals; vampire sex; shameless smut; memory loss; mesmerizing; vampire powers; vampire politics; Starkiller Base; military prowess; empire; emperor; Emperor!Hux; dhampirs;

Wordcount: 3289

NEXT CHAPTER 

“Whatever doesn't kill you is gonna leave a scar.” 

“DID YOU SUMMON ME, SIR?"

The words to leave your lips were no more than a whisper. It was the middle of the night and the room — his room — was remarkably dark. Apart from the dim light coming from the study room, there was no other source of illumination in the darkened space.

You wondered if he had a strong headache or something like that, for he simply never liked darkened spaces — he never talked about it, but you guessed it was somewhat related to his troubled childhood and abusive father. And for a fact, it’d been weeks since he last summoned you. Or even stayed in the same room as you without at least another person in it. When he spoke, his eyes were never focused on you.

They were always somewhere; always distant and unfeeling.

At first it hurt, but you decided it was to be expected. He was a newly-appointed General and you were… just a common officer. You were remarkably good at what you did — being his assistant; it is, if he would still have you —, but weren’t all in the First Order? You were no better than the officer with whom you shared your quarters.

The mere thought of him seeking you now — weeks after your last encounter had your heart racing and your palms sweating.

A sigh left you as you waited for him to speak. The eerie silence coupled with the fact you couldn’t distinguish his features made you tremble. Couldn’t he just speak at once?

“Careful with your words, Officer (L/N).” You didn’t know if he’d left his armchair or… Either way, you could hear his voice as clearly as if he were speaking inside your head. You shuddered. “Your insubordination will not be tolerated any longer.”

You furrowed your brows.

Your eyes widened.

Did you say the words aloud? You were sure that was absolutely not the case.

You straightened your back and held your breath.

“I apologize, Sir.”

You were met with silence and silence only — which, honestly, wasn’t far from what you were used to. He’d this terrible habit of staying quiet when you needed him to say something.

How you hated him!

He shifted in his seat. The sound of something — a glass perhaps? — placed over a hard surface — wood, metal? — startled you. The silence was so sepulchral, you could hear your own heart beating against your ribcages…

…and your breath.

But not his.

You could actually see your own breathing. It left your lips and became a white smoke in the blackish space. Did this place — his room — get any colder?

You were getting tired of this. Of his aloofness, of his cold shoulder and inexplicable behavior. Before he travelled — it is, before he left the Starkiller Base and went on some mission for the Supreme Leader in the Inner Rim —, everything was just fine between you.

He was never an outspoken man — not about his feelings at least —, but you figured out he loved you. No matter how harsh he usually was, you knew he cared. Kriffs, you loved him too!

But now you weren’t so sure of his feelings.

“For kriffs’ sake, will you just speak?”

As soon as you said that — as soon as the words left your mouth in an angry, senseless outburst —, you regretted it. Instead of some sort of rebuttal or promises of punishment, there was a sharp intake of breath.

When he did that it usually meant he was pissed off.

But so were you.

“I am leaving.”

For good.

You could’ve added. You weren’t taking any of this crap. His crap. Not anymore.

Turning on your heels to leave, you were surprised by his bare fingers around your wrist. Startled, you tried to yank your arm off his grasp, only to have him tightening his grip — much stronger and much colder than what you were used too; again, did someone drop the temperature in this room? It was freezing! — around you.

His voice was raspy — was he drunk? —, cold and unbelievably lowly. If not for having his lips so close to your ear you doubted you’d be able to hear him, “You are right. You are leaving. For good, (L/N).”

The meaning of his words hit you like a wild bantha on the run. But the fact he used your surname in such proximity made your heart clench.

It had been one year and half since the two of you crossed the boundaries of boss and assistant and became lovers, and except from when you were working, he never called you other than by your name.

If he now thought appropriate to go back to last name basis, it meant things between you had shifted. They were beyond repair now.

You bit your bottom lip, suppressing the need to cry — you had been very sensitive lately, ever since he left, you couldn’t get a grip of your emotions, “What do you mean, Sir?”

His hands were running over your nude arms, very, very lightly, as he walked around you, surveying your form. You could not see him, but you were sure he could at least feel all of you.

“Wearing only an excuse of a slip…” He said against your ear. No, he purred. The sound sent a jolt straight to your core. Subconsciously, you leaned against him — all disappointment and anger completely forgotten. “Did you expect something out of this encounter?”

You were so shocked at how nonchalantly he sounded, you had to try and disentangle yourself.

He didn’t allow it.

He wouldn’t.

“Stop biting your lips,” he hissed as you tried to wiggle out of his grasp. It only helped you brush against his crotch.

The two of you gasped.

He was hard.

Very hard.

And pulsating against you.

Somewhere in your mind you wondered how he could know you were biting your lips. If you couldn’t see him, it was for sure he couldn’t see you either, right?

Your thoughts were cut short when his bare fingers — where were those damned gloves of his? He seldom took them off when you made love — reached the inside of your thighs and outlined your lips.

A moan escaped you as you ground against him. It’d been weeks since he’d last touched you — and you couldn’t recall a better time. Even if everything was a bit fogged in your mind, your body would never forget the sensations he awakened in you.

He was good in bed — remarkably good, but you thought that it was more because the two of you were acquainted with each other’s body by now —, very enthusiastic and controlling. But what you experienced in his arms last time was beyond expectations. He took you without hurry — and you never thought slow sex could be that good — drawing pleasure out of our body even when you thought that was no longer possible. Kriffs, he even made you climax by merely caressing your neck with his lips — and biting into it too — and playing with the sidelines of your breasts.

When he was done with you, you thought you’d died and gone to heaven. You were glad he was there to hold you, otherwise you’d have collapsed. And then… He left. And you were too sleepy and tired — exhausted, really — to ask where he was going.

“You wanton creature,” he whispered against your earlobe. His lips were everywhere. The outline of your ear, your neck and your shoulder. His nude fingers — the ones that weren’t scissoring you and yanking from you sweet mewls —, were working with the straps of your nighty. “Shhh… Do you want anyone to hear us?”

Your eyes snapped open.

Your breath became heavier.

No.

Of course not.

But as he pinched your clit to the point you could no longer distinguish pain from pleasure, you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan.

“General!” you cried out, sinking your nails against his skin. It seemed much firmer, much… unbreakable than before. Usually, he’d hiss against your ear, reprimand you on your behavior. Now, all he did was to remove your only piece of clothing completely from you.    

The black silky fabric slid down your body, leaving your perky and so very sensitive — everything about you was beyond sensitive; pain and pleasure could be felt in a higher level of intensity — breasts exposed to the coldness of the room.

You even thought about crossing your arms against them — to keep your body warm, to hide yourself —, but he growled — he actually growled, like an animal! — against your ear. His slightly elongated fangs rasped against your neck in warning.

A shiver ran down your spine.

Better than having his lips against your neck was to have his hand wrapped around your throat — cutting your breath slightly short — as he brought you to an earth-shattering climax.

The mere thought had you sneaking your fingers through his hair — you knew he hated when you did that, but you did so, nonetheless —, burying his face against the curve of your neck.

“Armitage,” you whispered in his ear, as you brought his hand to your breasts. All you wanted was his mouth on them, worshiping them as he usually did. However, he seemed obsessed with your neck; his teeth scrapped the skin lightly.

His fingers inside you brought you each second closer to your ending — their inhuman pace, sometimes very fast and then very, very slowly, had you moaning shamelessly, bucking your hips against his; pressing your ass against his crotch. Your hand left his — letting him manipulate your body on its own — and palmed him through his trousers.

So hard.

So kriffing hard.

He breathed deeply against your ear — his hips, too, bucked against yours, against your hand. You even tried to shift in his arms, so you could touch — work — him better, but he didn’t allow you.    

“(Y/N…),” he whispered back in a warning, before he sank his sharp teeth into you. The pain of your skin being teared apart should’ve you asking for him to stop. Instead, you cried out in pleasure as his thumb found your clit and expertly handled it.

His fingers inside of you reached an inhuman pace as you bucked your hips against his hand. Pain and pleasure mixed in the most explosive of sensations as your orgasm raked through you.

Your lids fell closed; you surrendered completely to him.

A moan left you.

Him.

You were no longer sure.

But as your body shook against his — with his fingers working you inhumanly slow now, till he dragged another orgasm out of you —, you couldn’t help but feel tired.

Exhausted.      

Your body went limp in his arms. Your heart, which always beat at a frenzy pace — especially in the last few days, as if more than one organ beat inside of you — slowed its pace.

And as the pleasure became only a tingly sensation running through your body, you couldn’t help but feel pain.

Excruciating.  

It hurt.

It kriffing hurt. 

Still, he wouldn’t let you go. He wouldn’t remove his teeth from your skin.

It burned.

It kriffing burned.

Armitage!

As expected, there was no response from him. You weren’t even sure you said his name out loud, or if you just imagined it. Your hands went back to his hair, pulling at the ginger strands strongly. Forcefully.

“Stop! I’m…”

You wanted to warn him…

To make him stop…

To tell him that you were…

That inside of you…

You grabbed onto his hair with renewed strength, yanking him away from you. The will — the need — to live — to survive — was greater than anything.

Even if he growled, he let go of you with remarkably ease. He purred as his teeth detracted from your skin. There was no need to touch your neck to know it was bleeding. You could feel it running down your skin.

You could almost see it on his lips.

And you could remember — faintly, vaguely… like a foggy dream — it happening before. It wasn’t the first time he did it — that he drank your blood.

Your eyes fell closed out of their own volition.

It was difficult to stay awake.

It was difficult to think.

It was difficult to even breath.

You wanted to be disgusted…

…mad…

…afraid…

Yet, all you could feel was numbness taking over your body. Crawling under your skin and gripping at your barely beating heart. Next thing you knew — you felt —, his wrist was pressed against your lips and his thick blood filled your mouth.

As if your life depended on it, you grabbed onto his wrist firmly, holding it against your lips as he whispered something you couldn’t understand in your ear. Small sounds — purrs — left him as he encouraged you to drink more of it — every single drop.   

The coppery taste was strong on your tongue, nauseating even, but you couldn’t help yourself. You needed it. Craved it. You could feel the slit from where the blood poured onto your thirsty mouth closing, so you teared it open with your own unsharp and plain teeth.

His hand wrapped around your throat, however, prevented you from further feasting on him.   

“Enough.”    

Your lids felt heavy, but your heart was beating normally again. With it, you — with your temporarily heightened senses — could hear another heart pulsating in you. And if you could, you bet it wasn’t different for him.

His hold around your throat tightened momentarily only to loosen shortly after. Quicker than your eyes could follow, he was in front of you; his heavy coat fell around your shoulders, covering your nudity.

Groggily, you looked down — at your bloodied fingers — and panic began to build into you. Stepping back, your tried to disentangle from him, but his fingers were back to your throat faster than you could follow.

You gasped.

“Look at me.” His voice was raspy, low and angry. You thought you’d never seen him that angry — not even when you started working for him and committed small mistakes that only Armitage Hux would find unacceptable. “You’ll leave the First Order, (Y/N) and you won’t ever come back.”

You furrowed your brows.

Why would you do that?

How would you do that?

It wasn’t like the First Order allowed anyone to leave it — only dead and you had no wish to die anytime soon.

You even wanted to voice that question out loud, but his fingers around your throat prevented that. You couldn’t make a sound.

“You’ll forget this night ever happened.”

His nose was almost brushing yours now; his full-blown pupils attracted yours like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t look away. You didn’t want to.

“I won’t remember this night,” you repeated; numbness taking over your being.

You felt tired.

Exhausted.

He loosened his hold around you but didn’t let go. His left hand was stationed over your hip and his eyes — of a lovely bluish color, so intense and unreadable — flickered to your womb.

You wanted to tell him…

You had to tell him…

But all you could do was stare at him stupidly as he spoke words you couldn’t understand. That didn’t make any sense.

“You never entered this room. You haven’t seen me tonight.”

Your lips trembled.

Yet… Even if your heart screamed at you — it knew it wasn’t the first time it happened, it is, that he made you forget what happened —, that it wasn’t right, your lips repeated his words as if they were the most natural thing you’ve ever spoken.

“You won’t remember me.”

What?

“No.”

You clawed at his hands. Starched them. With all your mighty. But it did nothing to him. He merely tightened his hold, cutting your breath short.

“You, (Y/N) (L/N), have never met Armitage Hux.”

No.

“You’ll leave the First Order and raise your child away from here.” His voice became deeper, somber… but it also became lower. You almost had to struggle to hear it. The hand pressing your windpipe fell to his side, but the other remained on your hip, keeping you on your feet.

“We’ve never met before,” he spoke slowly, as if his words hurt him too. Your heart was in pieces right now. “Repeat it.”

You shook your head.

No.

You didn’t know what he was doing to you — what he thought he was doing —, but all your memories — otherwise vivid and colorful — became gray and gradually vanished from your mind. In the back of your eyes, each scene, each moment of your life in it he took some role was… disappearing. You were there… Everything was still there, but something was… missing.   

“Pl-Please.”

“Say it.”

“I don’t want to forget you.”

He seemed unfazed by your plea. Both of his hands moved to your hips, bringing you closer to him. You swallowed. And lifted your fingers to brush against his face — one last time… one last…

Your thoughts were interrupted by his lips on yours.

He kissed you.

Sweetly.

Shortly.

Tenderly.

Painfully.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips when he broke apart. He pressed a small kiss against your sweaty temple in the gentlest of the caresses.    

“You’ll leave.” His voice was back to his usual tone. Cold. Detached. “Tonight. Lieutenant Mitaka will help you.” He wetted his lips. “You won’t tell anyone, not even the father.”   

Your heart broke at his words.

It’s yours.

You wanted to say.

You could have said…

You would say…

If you could recall him. If you could recall any memories of him… Of this man in front of you. Who was he?

The first tear ran down your cheek, followed by many others. They touched your lips — bitter and salty — and gathered at your chin.

“I will let him know and he’ll go to you when it’s safe.”

No.

It’s… Who was the father of your child?

He brushed your tears away, but as soon as he wiped one, several more took its place. You sobbed. And you didn’t even know why. How pathetic. You were sobbing and crying in a stranger’s arm and you didn’t even know the reason.

“You may leave.”

He pushed you gently towards the door, one hand on the small of your back. When you typed the passcode — you had no idea how you knew it, you just did — and the steely doors opened, you cast one last look at him.

You knew this man.

You knew his face.

You knew those bluish eyes.

You could never forget those intense orbs. Nor that remarkably ginger hair.

You forced your brain to think… to remember…

Nothing.

There was nothing. Everything was blank.

Your head hurt when you tried to remember him. Your heart hurt when you failed.

You even reached out… thought about touching his face — perhaps if you touched him, you’d remember? —, but lowered your hands. It was rude to touch someone you didn’t even know.

“Do you remember what I said?”

You nodded.

“Yes. Lieutenant Mitaka will help me. I must go to…”

He shook his head.

“I don’t want to know.”

It was your time to shake your head. You were so confused. If the First Order was so dangerous… If it was no longer a safe place, why wouldn’t he run away with you? Why would he stay? It made no sense. And why would this man want to keep you safe? Why would he care about you when didn’t even know him?

“Who are you?”

He took his time to reply, his fingers removed a strand of your hair and placed behind your ear. Subconsciously, you leaned against his touch, seeking more of his warmth.

“Someone that you hate.”

A/N -  Well... That’s it. I hope you’ve liked it. Since I’m busy to come up with new chapters, this story is difficult to write and takes a lot from me, I’ll update the chapters I’ve posted on AO3 here every Wednesdays, on Thursdays I’ll post In the General’s Bed and on Fridays I’ll post Lie to Me.