#and quite honestly i still feel terrible but at least i’ve gained a small bit of clarity

[lemongrass-and-buttercups]

it’s been 2 months!!

[luvyanfei]

with a short & insecure s/o (hcs)

ft. xiao, kaeya, zhongli, & xingqiu requested by anon

this,,, this is me

xiao. 

he’s appalled when he finds out people actually tease you for your height. xiao has always known how terrible humans can be, but to think they would attempt to tear someone down, specifically his lover, just because they’re considered small irate him to no end. you might want to hold on to him tightly before he can storm off and declare war on the bullies who dared to torment you in any way. 

he honestly doesn’t care if you’re short or tall, ugly or pretty - your appearance isn’t what’s important here. he fell in love with you for what’s inside of you, don’t forget that, okay? xiao may not outright say all that because he’s embarrassed of showing his soft side to you, but if your insecurity gets the better of you, he’ll at least lend an ear to you as you rant to him while stargazing together. 

however, what xiao despises more than others treating you poorly is you belittling yourself. he has zero tolerance for that kind of attitude and will react quite aggressively, gripping you by the shoulders and shaking you. he can’t help himself. it hurts him deeply, dare he say more than a stab to his heart, seeing you wallowing in self-hatred. he’s harsh, but he means well. xiao would much rather see a content smile on your face than having you look disconsolate. 

“have you finally stopped your wailing yet?” xiao peers at your face drenched in tears in disinterest, but really, he’s pretty concerned on the inside. your sobs have been reduced to quiet sniffles, but your body won’t stop trembling. he looks away for a minute, sighs heavily, and pulls you into his arms, a blush coating his cheeks. 

he stays silent the whole time, too nervous to do anything really, as your palms press against his chest lightly and will yourself to calm down. xiao clears his throat and brings a finger down to brush away the glistening tears from your eyes. 

“look, just because you’re short, it doesn’t mean i don’t like you any less,” he whispers only for you to hear, and presses his lips to your forehead, letting it linger there for a few seconds. “even if you, or anybody else, don’t think you’re worthy enough, i at lease still care about you, so don’t let others’ opinions get to you.”

kaeya.

not to be blunt or anything, but kaeya being, well kaeya, he’s probably going to relentlessly tease you. he doesn’t do it because he harbors any ill-intent towards you. it’s just, kaeya is very fond of your flustered expression. if you happen to end up crying from his words, he’ll immediately stop and apologize guiltily. the last thing he needs is for you to abandon him too because of a fault on his end. 

kaeya really does love you a lot, despite your flaws and silently admires you for your empathy and altruism. one good thing about being shorter than your boyfriend is that you can wear his clothing on and he’ll be a gushing mess in no time. he’ll purposefully place his jacket somewhere for you to find in hopes you’ll put it on. he may be doing this just for the purpose of having fun, but he likes knowing that it means you're comfortable and accepting in your relationship with him. 

he likes patting you on the head when you pass by each other at random times, his lips curling in a knowing smirk. if you ever need help obtaining items that are out of your reach, kaeya will conveniently be there to lend a hand. it fuels his confidence how you always go to him for help instead of seeking support from someone who might be more reliable. it goes to show that your trust in him is deep. 

“having difficulties, [name]?” kaeya hollers to gain your attention as you look down from the ladder to glance at the knight, your hand outreached to grab at the material you need with failed attempts. “allow me to be of service~” 

he gestures for you to climb down and gets up the ladder himself, easily grasping the object in his fingers. once his feet has touched the ground, he lowers his hand to give it to you, but before your fingertips can make contact with it, he pulls it away from you. "ah ah ah~ shouldn’t i get some kind of a compensation for helping my dearest?” you stare at him in confusion before an idea plants itself in your head. ah. so that’s what he wants. with a roll of your eyes, you stride up the ladder till your eyes meet and kisses him on the lips. 

as you push your body away from him, he gives a closed-eye grin and nods in satisfaction. “that wasn’t too bad, now was it?” kaeya finally hands you the item, but he grips your free hand in his and guides it to press against his warm cheek. “you should realize by now what you’re capable of doing, stealing my heart like this. you’re so cruel [name], but perhaps that’s why i’ve grown to love you.” 

zhongli.

zhongli is an honest and good-natured man. he’ll immediately tell you that he doesn’t think to care about your height, so there’s no reason for you to worry about it either. he’s not an idiot though. he’s aware that your self-deprecating thoughts won’t disappear so easily with his consoling words alone. actions speak louder than words, after all. 

if anyone ends up insulting you for your size, zhongli won’t hesitate to politely stand up for you. although, if they stubbornly persist in demeaning you, it’ll push him to the brink of indignation, but he’ll still attempt to keep up a courteous manner for your sake as he calmly tells them to back off. like kaeya, he loves it when you wear his clothing! he’s lived for a long time to see many things, but witnessing you cuddling him while his jacket is draped snugly over your body has got to be the cutest thing he’s seen yet. 

ever the supportive individual, zhongli will help you come out of your shell and build up on your self-esteem. he’s there with you every step of the day, so if you ever slip and feel like you’re about to fall into an abyss of despair, he’ll take your out-stretched hands in his and guide you back into the light. 

“[name], is something the matter? you look as if you’re bothered by something.” zhongli questions innocently, studying your face carefully. your eyes droop slightly, but you reassure him that you were pondering how it would feel like if you were as tall as him. he nods in understanding and brings a hand up to his chin in thought. 

before you know it, he’s turned his back towards you and kneeled down. perplexed, you stare at him, unsure of what he’s doing. “you said you desired to know what it’s like to be around my height, so this is the only thing i can think of.” hesitantly, you place your hands on his shoulder blades to balance yourself and he makes sure to hold onto you tightly as he stands up slowly. you smile in appreciation at zhongli’s consideration over your feelings and presses your body closer to his. 

he beams back at you, sealing a kiss to your lips. “if you ever feel down, remember that there’s at least one person in the world that loves you - one of them being me, of course.” 

xingqiu.

he also reacts similar to kaeya, although his teasing is slightly toned down and less vocal. like, if you wanted to give him a kiss on the cheek, he might lean away from you and probably use a stool to make himself taller, but he’ll stop after a bit of fun and laughter. it’s not funny unless both of you are smiling, right?

he finds your short stature to be one of your charm points and will compliment you for that, calling you adorable and such. it’s kind of perfect for him because he likes being the big spoon, embracing you from behind and nuzzling his face against the back of your neck. if you’re around the same age as him, it’s alright! there’s still time for you to grow. he’s sure the both of you will be tall soon. there’s no judgement when you’re with him, so don’t be afraid of being yourself around xingqiu, alright? 

if he finds out your confidence is still lacking, he’ll scribble down a list of all the things he loves about you for you to read to lift your spirits up! although, that might prove to be a challenge considering his handwriting is infamously known for being illegible. 

“hmm... isn’t that the picture we took at liyue harbor together?” xingqiu observes the photo in your hand, reminiscing the fond memories. his honey irises flicker to you. “hey, what’s with the frown?” 

you shake your head and tries to change the subject, but he presses on to persuade you into explaining. when you finally do, he bursts into a fit of laughter, wiping away the tears pricking the edge of his eyes. “i apologize for my behavior, but [name], you shouldn’t have to concern yourself with such a trivial matter.” he tucks away a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his index finger ghosting over your lips. 

“have i ever told you that you’re cute?” xingqiu murmurs, a sense of genuine compassion laced in his tone. “don’t stare at me like that, please. i’m quite serious, so there’s no need to compare yourself with me. no matter the height difference, i’ll always love you - if you’ll allow me too. 

tagging. @liliisacutieowo, @scarymoosh

[dragon-kazansky]

Two sides of a coin | Zemo + Bucky

Requested by @cherry-season

Every coin has two sides, each different from the other. Zemo liked to think of you as such.

When he first met you, a stranger he had never crossed paths with before, you were so polite. Despite the warning you had clearly received, you were still full of manners and friendliness when you met him. It was only right he returned those manners to you.

However, it was very clear, with Bucky, who you had known quite some time, you had another personality with him.

The differences in personality was entertaining and he found great amusement in it when he thought about how different you were.

With Bucky you laugh loudly a lot more. Multiple times he has walked in and found the both of you laughing intensely. The kind of laugh that causes your head to go back and wheeze when you run begin to run out of air.

You also make a lot more mess. With Bucky you leave things laying about. You refuse to move your feet for him if you're taking up the couch. Zemo even saw you shiver a whole cupcake in your mouth when with Bucky. There was icing all over your face and fingers. Bucky just shook his head you, grinning at your antics.

With Zemo, you make the effort to keep your things tidy. You move he comes over, allowing him to sit. You offer to make him a drink when you get up. You're just so different.

Right now you were baking in the kitchen. You were mostly doing it just to pass some time, but Zemo wasn't complaining. He was sure whatever you were making would be wonderful.

Bucky was sat at the counter. He appeared to making the icing.

There was flour all over the counter and all over you. The bag of sugar had tipped up and the small grains were scattered across your working station.

Zemo was watching from across the room. He had just entered and you hadn't seemed to notice him. He had decided to keep quiet as he knew what would happen if you noticed him. The Baron wanted to see you as you are now, a chaotic mess trying to do something so simple.

"Are you nearly done with that?" You ask Bucky, turning around to face him.

Zemo could see your face a little better now. How did you manage to get flour in your hair?

"I think so. Are the cakes doing?" Bucky glances over to see your handy work.

A little tray was on display to him. The cakes themselves looked fine, ready for the oven, but the destruction you had left behind was phenomenal.

"Good. I'll put them in now. I better clean up before Zemo comes," you say, gathering the tools you had used.

"Need any help?"

"No, I got it. Thanks for the help with this though. I really like spending time like this with you." You chuckle softly.

Bucky scoops up some icing from the dish and rubbed it onto your nose.

"You're welcome, doll." He grins, leaving you to your own devices, ignoring the way you were cursing at him.

You grab a tissue and wipe at your nose.

Zemo chuckles to himself as he walks over, making himself known.

"Oh, Zemo! I promise, I'll clean everything!"

The Baron smiles.

"I don't mind. Are you having fun?"

"Yes. I'll replace everything I've used, I promise." You glance at the counter, ashamed of the mess you had made.

"Don't worry about that. My home is your home for as long as you're here. You may use anything you require."

You nod softly and start putting away everything. Zemo decides not to leave you to it yourself. He grabs a towel and begins to wipe up the mess you had left behind.

You put the tray into the oven and turn the timer on.

Bucky comes back, now looking cleaner than he had before. He wasn't immune to the flour explosion you had created earlier.

"So much for cleaning up before he came in," Bucky looks at the pair of you.

"Actually, I was over there for several minutes before I made myself known," Zemo says, pointing across the room.

"You saw? I'm a terrible guest, honestly." You brush your hands on the apron you had borrowed.

"Nonsense. You're a wonderful guest, but I must insist you be yourself. You really don't need to be so proper when I'm around." Zemo smiles at you.

"That doesn't feel right. We've only known each other a short time. It's only right to be polite to people I don't know."

"You know this is Zemo, right?" Bucky asks, looking at you.

"That doesn't matter. He's our host, the least we can do is respect his property."

Zemo smiles.

"I insist you be yourself. We may not be friends, like your are with James, but you have nothing to hide from me. I rather like the chaos you bring around your friends."

You blush softly.

"I feel like I'm interrupting something." Bucky looks between you both.

You shake your head and clean up the last of the mess, now with the help of the other two.

Once everything was pristine, and the cake were baking away, you all sat down. Zemo made tea. This felt nice for you, you felt a bit more comfortable with your host, but you were still worried about being so weird in front of him. Bucky had dealt with you plenty, so he was used to your antics.

"Where's Sam?" You ask, realising you hadn't seen him in hours.

"He went out. Couldn't put with you, left you with me to deal with. I'm not being paid for babysitting you." Bucky states, keeping a straight face.

You give him a little shove.

"Shut up. Seriously, where is he?"

"He went out for information, told me he could handle it."

"He is missing all the fun," Zemo says, chuckling softly.

"Just me and my boys at a tea party. Sam is going to be so jealous." You sip your tea.

"Zemo is one of tour boys now?" Bucky sounded almost jealous.

"Yeah, don't pout. It's official now," you grin.

You were being a lot more open with him now. Zemo felt extremely happy to see this more playful side of you.

The timer for the oven went off. You hopped off your stool and took them out, putting them on a cooling rack. You turn to Zemo.

"Want to help ice them later?"

His smile grows.

"I'd love to."

Bucky rolls his eyes at you, but keeps his mouth shut. You sit back down next to him and wait for the cakes to cool. Zemo pours more tea while you wait.

The Baron watches the way you and Bucky mess around with each other. Bucky moves your cup to the other end of the table when you check on the cakes. You threaten to ban him from the kitchen, to which he states it's not your kitchen. It was what you said next that took him off guard, not really expecting you to pull him into the mix.

"Well, if I ask Zemo nicely, he might ban you for me. Will you?" You turn to him.

Zemo smirks, "if my little bird wishes it."

You turn away, blushing again.

"I thought we were friends, Y/N." Bucky pretends to be upset.

"We are!" You wrap your arms around him and hug him.

Bucky laughs.

As Zemo sits there and watches you, a thought pops into his mind. Would he have enough time to befriend you the way Bucky has? For some reason he feels like he's been missing out on you.

Zemo was here to finish his mission, but perhaps he could gain a friend along the way.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna

[multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer]

Bet On It (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey!! Here’s a fun little Draco Malfoy fic. I love him and have been in the mood to write for him recently, so I cooked this up! I hope someone enjoys it :) And requests are open! Thanks :)

Summary: You’re the it girl of Hogwarts, and no man can seem to tie you down. Draco’s the it boy of Hogwarts, and no girl can seem to keep him long. What happens when Draco approaches you with a bet that could make or break your reputation?

Bet On It

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 8,281

Warnings: a little bit of angst and a whole lot of fluff. like one mild curse?

“Look, it’s (Y/n).” You hear the whispers surround you as you walk to the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. This is a natural dinner-time occurrence since you are the most popular girl in school. You’re the player of the school, the girl who can get any guy and always drops them in the next couple of months and breaks their heart. It’s a reputation you love to uphold.

“Hey, girls.” You sit down next to your friends, flashing them all a blinding white smile. Every boy within a ten-foot radius swoons at the mere sight.

“Hey, (Y/n). How was potions today?” One of your friends asks, completely ignoring every boy nearby. 

“It was alright. You know I don’t like Snape, so that’s never fun, but at least my potion didn’t blow up this time,” You chuckle, the smile never leaving your face. Part of your charm to boys is your natural confidence and kindness. Even though you have the reputation of a heartbreaker, you’re still kind to everyone. It’s an odd dynamic, but it’s the dynamic you’re known for.

“Hey, (Y/n).” A boy sits down next to you. You’re not quite surprised, just startled. You turn to see Harry Potter next to you, a smile donning his face at seeing you. You smile in return.

“Hi, Harry.” You turn to face him. You had already been down this road before. You dated Harry in sixth year, and it’s currently seventh year. Maybe he thought time would change things, but it hasn’t for you.

“How was your day?” He asks, fiddling with his hands in his lap. You feel bad for making the poor boy so nervous, so you try to be as casual as possible. You’re still human, after all.

“It was decent. We had potions together today, right?” You hum, turning slightly to your plate to eat a bit as you chat.

“Yeah, we did!” Harry brightens at the fact that you noticed him in class. You give him a polite smile.

“Well, you know how Snape can be. You’re not the only one who doesn’t like him,” You say, a small laugh escaping your lips. Harry looks triumphant at your laugh in the conversation.

“Yeah, I get it. He’s a pain.” He runs a hand through his already messy hair. As much as you enjoy a pleasant conversation with someone every once in a while, you really wanted to get going. You needed to get to the astronomy tower for some alone time. Boys had been hanging off of you all day long and you’re looking forward to a much-needed break.

“Indeed, he is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go. I’m terribly sorry, but I’m feeling the beginnings of a headache and I’d like to lie down.” You smile pleasantly at him and stand up from your seat. You had finished your food quickly so you could go to the astronomy tower sooner.

“Oh, of course. I’ll see you around, (Y/n).” Harry gets up and heads over to Ron and Hermione, talking animatedly to them as he arrives. Ron’s ears perk up at something he says and he immediately gets up and walks over to you on your way out.

“(Y/n)!” Ron grins at you as you approach the door to the Great Hall. 

“Hello, Ron.” You smile politely again. This was tiring every day.

“I heard you have a headache. Do you need any assistance?” He asks, real concern swimming in his eyes. You chuckle softly.

“No, but thank you, Ron. You’re very sweet for asking.” You brush past him in the politest way possible. You had dated Ron just a little bit before Harry in sixth year, and he was as persistent as anyone to get back together with you. Before Ron, you had even dated Fred, George, and Cedric back in fourth and fifth year. Like you said before, you’ve dated quite a bit and you’re always the one to break up with them.

Once you’re past Ron, you make a beeline for the astronomy tower. No one stops you on the way.

Once you arrive at the top of the astronomy tower, you finally let your guard down and relax. You look up at the stars, closing your eyes and relishing in the moment alone. That is, until you hear a voice next to you.

“Needed to get away?” 

You whip around, seeing Draco Malfoy sitting in the corner, likely annoyed that you had shown up. Draco’s one of the few, if not the only, boy in Hogwarts who isn’t throwing himself at you at any given moment. You hadn’t talked to him much, but you also didn’t plan on it in case he turned out like the rest.

“Yes. Sorry for bothering you.” You scramble to stand up. Draco shrugs.

“Suit yourself, leave if you want. I’m not one of your fanboys, though, so if you stay I’m not going to try and endlessly chatter with you. I’m here for peace and quiet, too.” His voice seems offended that you immediately wanted to leave, likely because you thought of him as a “fanboy.”

“Right. I suppose I’ll stay, then.” You sit back down, relaxing slightly when he doesn’t make a move to continue the conversation. 

You decide to test the waters after a few moments of silence.

“So, why are you up here?” You hum, looking up at the sky instead of at him. He grunts in annoyance.

“For peace and quiet, didn’t you hear me the first time?” He grumbles, obviously annoyed that you’re disturbing his peace. You chuckle. You’re not used to this reaction from guys, so this is a nice change for you.

“I did. Just wanted to see if you’d change your answer, that’s all.”

“Change it to what? Because I wanted to see you? Please, I’m not one of your meddling nosey little--”

“Fanboys?”

“Yes.”

“I bet you would be.” You smirk, finally looking over at him. He looks like you just slapped him across the face.

“Excuse me?” He growls, annoyance spreading across his features.

“You would be. If you knew me.” You smirked. You’re not sure where this arrogant confidence came from, you would never dare talk to another boy like this.

“Yeah, right. I bet I’d have you groveling at my feet before I fell for you.” He scoffs, crossing his arms.

“Not true. I’d break up with you like every other guy I’ve dated.” You sigh, looking away again.

“Is that a challenge?” Draco asks, standing to his feet and walking over to you. You hate how he looks down upon you, so you stand up in front of him.

“And what if it is?” You quirk an eyebrow, suddenly intrigued by the conversation.

“Let’s make a bet, then, shall we? Whoever falls in love first loses and gets broken up with.” He holds out his hand for you to shake. You look down at it.

“And what does the winner gain?” You ask, eyeing his hand cautiously.

“The satisfaction of humiliating the other person, being right, and ruining their player reputation in school.” He states matter-of-factly. You narrow your eyes at him.

“And the conditions? What are we doing exactly?” You ask.

“Well, that’s easy. We’ll be a couple. We will date until one of us falls in love, which will be you, and I’ll break up with you.” He smirks arrogantly. You grab his hand and give it a firm shake.

“You’re on. I won’t lose this bet.” You scoff, letting go of his hand immediately after. He chuckles.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, darling.” He lets the pet name roll off his tongue gracefully, annoying you. He walks down the stairs of the astronomy tower, a new pep in his step. If he’s already using pet names then he’s going to fall for you so much harder and faster than you would for him.

Oh, yeah. You’ve got this in the bag.

~+~

You walk down the hallway to your next class, hips swaying absentmindedly as you carry your books. You ignore the whispers around you, silently wishing that people would stop talking about you behind your back. Whether it’s good or bad things, you’ve always been talked about. It’s been getting on your nerves lately.

“Hey, (Y/n), is it true?” One of your friends sidles next to you, matching your pace down the hall. You furrow your brows.

“Is what true?” You ask, turning slightly to look at her.

“That you’re dating Draco now,” She states matter-of-factly. You deadpan. Right, you had almost forgotten about the stupid bet you made with that slimeball.

“It...is.” You force a sweet smile onto your face as if you’re happy about dating Draco of all people.

“Wow. I never took him for your type, but I’m happy for you! Although, I know other people aren’t so optimistic…” She trails off, frowning. The smile almost immediately drops from your face.

“Oh? And what do you mean by that?” You hum, pretending to care. You honestly don’t give a crap about who likes or doesn’t like your relationship, because you have half a mind to tell everyone that you don’t like it either. But that would be forfeiting. 

And you’re no quitter by any means.

“Oh, well I just mean some of our other friends who had a crush on Draco. They won’t be happy. And also...Pansy. But you can take her! I have full confidence in you.” Your friend pats you on the shoulder, a small yet nervous smile resting on her face. You frown.

“Take her? What do you mean? She’s a just another girl, what could she do--”

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n),” You hear your name shrieked down the hallway. Your head swivels to see Pansy Parkinson standing at the end of a hallway branching off to your right. You internally sigh. Of course, at the moment you’re on the verge of saying she’s no big deal, she shows up.

You look back to your friend only to see that she’s already gone. So much for backup.

“Hi, Parkinson.” You deadpan, continuing your walk to class. Only a little bit left to go before you’re at potions class.

“So, tell me, is the rumor true?” She matches your pace much like your friend did, except her footsteps are more akin to stomps than anything.

“That I’m dating Malfoy--”

“Yes, that you’re dating Draco!” She interrupts you with her horribly shrill voice. You clench your jaw in annoyance until you see the potions classroom coming up.

“I’ll let you figure it out for yourself, Pansy. See you around.” You suddenly duck into the potions classroom, looking triumphant for getting rid of her so easily. She wouldn’t dare yell at you while in the presence of Snape, mostly because he already finds her annoying and doesn’t seem to mind you so he’d probably give her detention. 

“(Y/l/n), care to have a seat?” Snape asks you, one brow arched at your arrival. You realize that you’ve just barely made it to class on time, and everyone is already in their seats. Good thing Snape doesn’t already hate you.

“Yes, sorry.” You timidly look around for the remaining seat and making your way toward it.

Oh, great. Look who it’s next to.

“Glad you could finally join us, darling,” Draco says, smiling maliciously at you. You roll your eyes and sit down.

“Says you, Malfoy.” You groan, taking out your potions book. Draco tsks next to you.

“Calling your boyfriend by his last name? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you don’t like me.” He sneers. You shoot him a glare.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re taunting me.” You growl. 

“Malfoy, (Y/l/n), are you listening?” Snape eyes the two of you, anger evident in his posture and tone. You duck your head, embarrassed. 

“Yes, professor,” You and Draco murmur. Surprisingly, Snape lets it slide this time. 

“You’re lucky you were talking to me. Otherwise, you’d be in big trouble.” Draco smirks at you. 

“And what does that mean?” You whisper back.

“I’m a Malfoy. I don’t get in trouble. For hardly anything.” He winks at you.

“Oh, shut up and listen.” You hiss.

“If you insist, darling.”

~+~

Things had been going...amicably, to say the most. You’ve been “dating” Draco for about two weeks at this point. Your first tactic was to just hate Draco and then you’d never fall in love, but it was easy to see that it wasn’t going to work. First of all, you may not fall in love with him, but….he also wasn’t going to fall in love with you that way, either. So you decided to switch things up a bit starting today.

“Hey, baby.” You smile and sit down next to Draco in the Great Hall. It’s lunchtime and you cannot wait to throw him off for the rest of the day.

“Ba-” Draco chokes on his drink as soon as he hears your new pet name for him.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You fake concern, trying to make it look as real as possible. If he believes you’re in love with him, then he’ll fall in love, too. At least, that’s the plan.

“Y-Yeah I’m...fine.” He clears his throat, setting his drink back down. You smile and get your own plate, making sure that you’re sitting as close as possible to him while still being able to eat.

He seems slightly uncomfortable, but easing into it since the two of you are in a “relationship” and it’d be weird for him to be uncomfortable around you. Besides, he’d had his fun with his pet names and smooth lines. It’s your turn.

“God, you’re a bit much don’t you think, (y/l/n)?” Pansy groans from across the table. You look up at her, a passive smile gracing your face.

“I’m sorry you think so, Pansy. Fortunately, you’re not my boyfriend, so I don’t quite care what you think. Isn’t that right, darling?” You muse, turning to Draco and using his own nickname on him. Draco smirks, knowing the game you’re playing and how he’d get to poke fun at Pansy at the same time.

“Of course, love.” He puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you even closer to him. You’re startled, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you lay your head on his shoulder and smile. Pansy snarls and gets up, leaving from the Great Hall. 

Surprisingly, neither of you move, you just stay there wrapped up in each other. You can feel Draco’s heartbeat under your head, getting slightly more rapid as the seconds drawl on.

“Oi, are either of you two listening?” Blaise Zabini asks, waving a hand in front of you and Draco. The two of you break apart and turn to look at him, sheepish smiles on your faces.

“Sorry, what were you saying, Blaise?” You ask, a heat creeping up your neck. You wave it off as embarrassment.

“Couple of lovebirds, you two are. I was just saying it was funny how you showed Pansy up.” Blaise rolls his eyes. You turn back to your food, hyper-focusing on that instead of a quiet Draco next to you. Then it dawns on you.

Love? He called you “love.” Is that a new nickname?

~+~

It’s been another month since you and Draco had started dating. In total, it’s been a month and a half. By now, Draco has caught on to your lovey-dovey style and has followed suit. Now it’s a true battle. 

“(Y/n)? Love?” Draco grabs your hand, startling you out of your thoughts. 

“Hm? Sorry, baby, I got lost in thought.” You smile, rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand. This has become a regular thing for the two of you now. Hugging, holding hands, his arm around your shoulder, pretty much anything up to kissing. You had yet to kiss him, and you didn’t plan on it any time soon. 

“I was just asking if you’d meet me at the astronomy tower tonight?” He hums, affectionately leaning the side of his head against yours. You smile out of habit.

“I’d love to, what time?” You ask, leaning your head on his shoulder to be more comfortable.

“Does eight sound alright?” He asks, his thumb raking smoothly over your hand that he holds in his. You keep from shuddering at his touch. No, you’re not in love. You don’t even have a crush on the boy. This is all a game.

A game that you’re going to win.

“Sounds wonderful. I’ve got to get to class, but I’ll see you tonight.” You stand up straight and turn to him, a small smile resting on your lips. He smiles back at you, but you can tell it’s more of a forced smile. That’s one thing you’re better at. Hiding your true intentions. He may be smooth, but smiles are not his strong suit.

“I’ll see you tonight, dear.” He lets go of your hand. You turn and walk to your divination class. What does he have planned for tonight?

~+~

When tonight rolls around, you’re not sure what to wear. You don’t want to dress too informally in fear that he’d not like your outfit and it would hurt your chances of wooing him, but you also don’t want to dress too nicely and look like you’re expecting too much. So, you opted for a nice blouse and a skirt. A good middle ground.

“I cannot believe you’re still dating Malfoy,” Hermione sighs as you step into your common room. Although she’s not Slytherin, you had let her in so she could be there for you. You needed someone to rant to, and she has been a saving grace during these times. See, she doesn’t know that you’re not really dating Draco, but that’s exactly what you need. She hates him, and you need a person in your life telling you that he’s no good for you. Every other girl just swoons over him and says how you’re so lucky. 

“I know, ‘Mione, you say it every time.” You smile at her as you descend the stairs. 

“Just making sure I keep you on your toes,” She says, giving you a small smile back. You know she disapproves, but she’s been a good friend recently. And disapproval is what you need, too, so she’s helping more than she realizes.

“Thank you. I’ve got to go now, but thank you for helping me get ready tonight. I owe you one,” You giggle as the two of you step out into the dungeons.

“Yeah, you do. Now...go have fun.” She gives you a weird smile. You laugh and walk away from her, making your way to the astronomy tower.

You walk up the long set of stairs up to the top of the tower, nerves gnawing at you the whole time. Why did he ask you here? This is private. Why did he need to talk to you in private?

“There you are. I was afraid you weren’t going to show.” You hear Draco’s voice as you reach the top of the steps. When you reach the peak, you look before you to see that Draco has set up a cute little picnic in front of the railing. You’re taken aback by the gesture.

“Draco, this is…”

“Is it too much?” You look to him and see that there’s...genuine worry written on his face? No, this is some cruel trick.

“No, no. It’s perfect.” You smile and sit down as he sits down next to you.

“I had some chocolate strawberries prepared for us. That, and I got some chocolate frogs. I know they’re your favorite.” He smiles what seems like a genuine smile at you. You’re surprised. When did this Draco show up? And what game is he playing here?

“Draco, I don’t know...I just--”

“Shh, I know...I know you’re going to talk about the bet. I don’t...I don’t want to think about that for tonight, alright? Let’s just...relax. Talk. Be normal, for once.” He takes your hand in his, and now you’re beyond confused. But you play along. Although you’re confused, this is still...really nice. You don’t hate it. You don’t hate him.

“Alright.” You agree, relaxing next to him. You lay your head on his shoulder and the two of you gaze up at the stars.

“Are you familiar with constellations?” He hums, picking up a chocolate strawberry to eat. You think for a second.

“No, not really. Are you?” You hum, getting more comfortable by the second. In all honesty, this is an ideal date if it were under better circumstances.

“More than. Would you like me to point out a few to you?” He asks, suddenly turning the chocolate strawberry to you. He raises his eyebrows as if to offer you the strawberry. Is he...planning on feeding it to you?

“For me?” You giggle, looking up at him. He smiles bashfully and nods.

“For you. Open up,” He says, leaning the strawberry in more. You open your mouth and take a bite of the strawberry, relishing in the sweet chocolatey taste. You hum and grin up at him. 

“Delicious,” You say, smiling widely. You’re not sure you’ve ever had this much actual fun with him before. You’re not sure how to feel about it.

“Oh, you’ve got something,” He leans in a bit and locks eyes with you, “...here.” He wipes something off the corner of your mouth. For a minute, you’re locked in each other’s eyes, neither of you able to move.

You break out of the trance first, ducking your head to avoid him seeing your blush. This is still a bet.

“Thank you,” You murmur, hoping he didn’t see your blush.

“Of course. Constellations?” He asks, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips as well. You smile.

“Please,” You hum, leaning your head back on his shoulder. The two of you spend the next three hours pointing out constellations and talking about nothing and everything at the same time.

Once the date is over, you help him pack everything up, and the two of you sneak downstairs and back to the Slytherin common room. It’s past curfew, so you try not to get caught. You’re successful.

“I had fun tonight,” Draco says as the two of you walk back into the common room. You stay between the two sets of stairs leading to the differently gendered dorms.

“Me too,” You admit, smiling truthfully at him. He gives you a small smile back. You’ve decided that you like his genuine smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow...love,” He gets slightly closer to you on the last words. Your breath hitches in your throat. Is he about to kiss you?

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” You mutter quietly, not daring to move a muscle. He swoops in and plants a sweet kiss on your cheek before swiftly turning around and walking up the steps to the boys' dormitory. You stand there for a moment, speechless, until you follow suit and leave to go to your room.

One question plagues you as you walk back to your dorm, the trip seeming agonizingly longer than usual. Why would he go to such lengths tonight if the two of you were in private? There was no reason to do this since it’s not putting on a show for others. No, he knew this was just for the two of you. So why do it?

This leads you to another startling conclusion:

You’re starting to have feelings for Draco Malfoy. And you think he might feel the same.

~+~

A week after the date, things are going swimmingly. The dynamic has shifted just a bit, with the two of you being even more affectionate than you were. The hand-holding and hugs have turned into that and more. The small brushes of hands, his hand on the small of your back, have all elevated your feelings toward him and you’re just hoping that he feels the same way. You’re not in love. At this point, he can still fall in love before you and you can break it off. Just because you have slight feelings for the boy does not ruin the bet. Besides, you’ve had feelings for all of your other boyfriends at one point, and look where they all turned up. Dumped. You’ve still got this in the bag.

“Are you going to the quidditch game tonight, darling?” Draco hums, intertwining his fingers with yours as the two of you walk to potions class together. You grin at him.

“Of course. You told me you’d let me wear your old jersey, so I’ve got to go out and support my boyfriend, right?” You smirk, nudging his shoulder with yours. You don’t miss the small blush that spreads across his cheeks. It’s like he becomes a different person when no one’s watching the two of you and he has no arrogant reputation to uphold.

“Well, with your support, I know I’ve got this win against Gryffindor in the bag.” He grins and kisses your cheek. You bite your lip to keep from smiling so widely.

~+~

That afternoon, at the quidditch game, you find your spot amongst the crowd. You’re sitting with a few of your Slytherin friends as well as Ron and Hermione, surprisingly. They’re still wearing their Gryffindor scarves and hats, but you’re glad they’re sitting by you. You know Ron’s still infatuated with you, so you’re not surprised that it didn’t take a lot of convincing to get him over here, but you’re glad Hermione’s with you. Besides, Ron has stifled most of his flirting now that you have a boyfriend.

“Blimey, you look great (Y/n).” Ron smiles at you. You did say most of his flirting.

“Thanks, Ron. It’s Draco’s old jersey. I figured I’d better support my boyfriend.” You smile and show off the jersey, throwing Ron off. He grumbles something under his breath but keeps up his happy act.

“Well, I’m just hoping to get this game over with soon. I need to get back to studying for the test in DADA tomorrow.” Hermione huffs as she finds her seat next to you. 

“Hermione, you’re literally the smartest witch at Hogwarts. You’ve got this test without even studying.” You snort, watching the players take their place on the quidditch field.

“Says you! You’re just as smart, (y/n).” Hermione scoffs. You laugh and shake your head, mostly focused on finding a certain platinum-haired boyfriend of yours. You find him off to the side, looking for you. Your hand shoots up and waves. You see his head turn to your area and he grins at you, winking. You blow him a kiss back and he pretends to catch it as he mounts his broom.

“God, you two are sickening.” Hermione gags next to you. You scrunch your nose up.

“Are not.” You huff. She laughs.

“Sure.”

“Hey, (Y/l/n),” You hear a shrill voice to your right. Great, she’s back.

“Do you mind, Parkinson? I’m trying to watch my boyfriend play quidditch.” You groan, not even turning to face her.

“Too bad your precious boyfriend was snogging me before charms earlier today,” Pansy smirks as you finally turn to face her.

“That’s nice... if I believed you. God, Pansy, everyone knows you’re desperate for my boyfriend. I can smell your lies from a mile away. Try tricking someone more gullible next time.” You roll your eyes and turn back to the field, easily finding Draco hovering as he looks for the snitch. You hear a high-pitched ‘hmph’ and footsteps walking away from you.

You see Draco’s eyes light up as he spots something across the field. He’s off in a flash and you see Harry try to follow behind him. 

You watch as the golden blur darts around the stadium, coming close to a stop almost right in front of you. Your eyes focus on the two boys dashing after the golden snitch that are about to run into you. Your eyes widen as they approach.

Harry, to avoid hitting you, veers up at the last second and misses the snitch. However, Draco flips over you sideways at the last second and grabs the snitch mid-air, landing not-so-gracefully behind you. He holds the snitch up and the entire Slytherin section goes insane.

“And Draco Malfoy catches the snitch! Slytherin wins!” You hear the announcer shout.

“Almost hitting me, huh?” You turn back to Draco, a smile playing on your lips. He grins at you.

“But I didn’t hit you, did I? Made sure of it.” He smirks playfully. You look down and lock eyes with a seething Pansy Parkinson who’s glowering at you with Draco. Thinking back on it, that’s probably why you did what you’re about to do next.

You reach up and cup Draco’s cheek, bringing him down to you and connecting your lips. You feel him tense up in shock for a moment before he relaxes and kisses you back. The seconds feel like an eternity before you pull away, breathless. You hear cheers around you, most likely from your kiss and the win. You’re not sure if he’s breathing heavily from the stunt he just pulled or that kiss, but he looks at you with his lips slightly parted and a faraway look in his eyes as he processes what just happened. 

“Hey, Draco, get down here!” You hear one of the Slytherin teammates call to him. He shakes off some of his shock, blinking a few times before he mounts his broom again. A wide smile finds its way back to his face and you’re left wondering if you made the right decision or not. It was a heat of the moment thing, it didn’t mean anything...right?

Right?

~+~

“What was that?” Draco asks you once the two of you’re alone after dinner. 

“What was what?” You feign innocence, not really wanting to talk about it in the first place.

“The kiss,” He states incredulously. 

“Oh, that! Yeah, um...it was a heat of the moment decision to get back at Pansy. Sorry.” You laugh it off. That’s not the entire reason, but it’s also not a lie, so you roll with it.

“Oh, that’s it?” He asks. He seems almost...disappointed? No, that’s not right.

“Yeah, why?” You ask, concern finding its way into your voice.

“No reason. I’ll, uh, see you around. I gotta go.” He presses a hasty kiss to your cheek before walking off.

He didn’t want it to be real...did he? Did you?

~+~

Another month later, you’re officially in deep crap. It’s been almost three months, and that was the deadline you had set for yourself to make Draco fall in love with you. In reality, the opposite had happened. You’re afraid that you’ve fallen in love with him. 

Scratch that, you know that you’re in love with him, and that makes you very afraid. However, he seems to be reciprocating everything you’ve felt, so you’re wondering if he’s in the same situation. No, you’re sure he’s in the same situation. It’s written all over his face every time you kiss. You see the love in his eyes.

Yes, you kiss regularly now. It’s been happening quite a bit since the quidditch match, and in all honesty...he sneaks in kisses when you’re in private, too. Which is why you’ve planned when you’re going to confess to him.

“You ready for our date tonight, darling?” Draco hums, a smile playing at his lips as he walks up to you and slides his arms around your waist. He lifts you up and gives you a small peck on the lips. You giggle.

“Of course I am.” You grin, kissing him again. 

“Remember, the Room of Requirement. Eight o’clock.” He sets you down, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

“Can’t wait.” You start to walk off, blowing him a kiss. He “catches” it and stuffs it in his pocket.

“For later,” He whispers, winking. You giggle and part ways with him.

Yeah, you’re definitely in love.

~+~

When eight rolls around, you’re ready. Draco told you to dress nicely for this date, so you opted for a nice winter dress. You make your way to the Room of Requirement, finding it quite easily despite its reputation for not showing up a lot of the time.

Inside, Draco has set up floating candles all around the outskirts of the room and you see a small speaker in the corner of the room.

“What’s this?” Your eyes light up, taking in your surroundings. 

“I set up some candles and this….phonograph, I think is what the muggle-borns called it? It’s supposed to play music, and I thought it fit the atmosphere…” Draco trails off, looking at you for your opinion.

“It’s beautiful, Draco. And it fits the mood perfectly. I mean...I know I’m special when the Draco Malfoy uses a muggle contraption for our date.” You tease him, walking up to him. He bows his head as a blush takes over his features.

“You know I want the best for you, (Y/n/n).” He lets your nickname slip, meeting you in the middle of the room. You smile fondly at him and he mirrors your expression. 

“I love it.” You murmur quietly. You want to say something else instead of ‘it’ but you hold your tongue. It’s not the time yet.

“Care to dance?” Draco holds out his hand to you as a soft ballroom song starts to drift out of the phonograph, flowing through the room, giving it a sweet aria. 

“I would love to.” You take his hand and the two of you start to glide across the floor. You’re no expert dancer, but you’d been to a Yule Ball before, and you’ll be going to another one this year. You like to be prepared.

“You’re quite the dancer, (Y/n/n),” He murmurs, capturing your eyes in his. You can’t look away.

“I have a good partner,” You blush, moving to a more intimate dancing stance. Your arms wrap around his neck as his wind around your waist. Your inches from his face, staring into his eyes. 

The music seems to fade away as Draco leans down and kisses you deeply, stopping your dance across the floor. Your eyes flutter closed and your hands find their way up into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

When you finally break apart, you feel like you’re the only two people in the world. You feel ready to conquer the question that’s been aching in your heart for the past few weeks.

“(Y/n/n), will you go to the Yule Ball with me?” Draco murmurs, stroking his thumb across your cheek. You smile fondly at him.

“Of course. I...I have something to tell you, Draco.” You whisper, afraid that speaking too loudly will scare him away from you.

“Yes?” He asks, his eyes so full of love that you want to just shout it out right now. Him asking you to the Yule Ball only fuels your desire, since that’s at least a month away. He expects you two to be together for a long time.

“I...I love you.” You admit, feeling a large weight lifted off your chest. A large grin breaks out across Draco’s face.

“You do? You really do?” His eyes light up and you want to cry tears of relief.

“Yes, I really do.” You laugh a little, tears of joy pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Oh my god, I thought...I was afraid you were just really good at acting,” Draco lets out a puff of air, running a hand through his hair.

“No, I-I love you, Draco.” You smile, feeling your heart soar. He loves you, too.

“That’s a relief. Well, I suppose I can drop this facade, now.” His hand drops from your face and he takes a step back.

You feel your heart shatter at those few words. 

You look at his face to see that his usual genuine (or so you thought) fond smile is gone, replaced by his usual arrogant smirk.

“W-What?” You ask, your tears of joy turned to tears of devastation. 

“I mean, really? You really thought that I was in love with you? Maybe I should go into acting, I mean, I seemed to fool you.” He laughs, crossing his arms in triumph. Your lip quivers as tears spill down your face.

“You- you liar!” You cry, wiping madly at your face to stop the tears but they’re too fast.

“Come on, (Y/n/n), we’re through. We both knew it was going to end this way. Spare me the heartache. I won.” He spits bitterly at you, rolling his eyes in annoyance. The cocky smile never disappears.

“I thought it was real,” You choke out, feeling your breaths coming out raggedly as you go through the heartbreak you thought you had avoided.

“Well, you thought wrong, darling.” The sarcasm drips from his words heavily.

“Don’t call me that! Don’t- don’t speak to me ever again!” You scream, running out of the Room of Requirement.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic!” You hear him call as you run out. You dash through the halls wildly, not sure of your final destination. You finally find a closet that you hide in, locking behind you as you sink to the ground and cry your eyes out. You stay in there for a while, sobbing into your knees until your heart’s content. Although you stop crying after a while, you still feel the heartbreak and suffering. The pain doesn’t go away. Not for a long time.

You thought he felt the same.

“You thought wrong, darling,” Draco’s cruel words echo in your mind endlessly. You thought wrong.

You thought wrong.

~+~

You don’t get out of bed for the next two days. On the third day, one of your friends finally drags you out of your bed and makes you go to class. 

“You can’t let your grades slip, (Y/n),” She had told you.

You were honestly willing to let anything slip as long as you didn’t have to see Draco anymore.

On your first day of going back to classes, you try to block out the whispers.

“Did you hear that Draco broke up with her?”

“That’s the first guy to break up with her right?”

“What happened to being the playgirl of the school?”

“I guess she’s not all that anymore,”

“I doubt boys will even give her a second glance after this,”

You try to block them out, and you’re partially successful until Pansy comes along. 

“What’d I tell you, (Y/n)? Draco would always come back to me. We both knew it,” Pansy says snarkily as you pass her in the hall.

“Oh, shove it, Pansy. He’s not even with you, he just--”

“Oh, that’s right, you haven’t been here for the past two days because you’ve been pathetically staying in bed. He asked me out yesterday,” She cackles, her freshly manicured hands taunting you as she laughs.

“He...what?” You’re dumbfounded for the second time this week, feeling tears prick at your eyes again. He never had feelings for you. At all.

You didn’t get out of bed the day after that, either.

~+~

After another day of staying in bed and letting everyone’s words get to you, you finally get up again. You put a little effort into your hair and makeup, trying to maintain at least some of your dignity as you force your way back into the world.

“(Y/n)! You’re back!” Hermione runs up to you as you walk into the Great Hall. She tackles you in a hug and you numbly hug her back, not sure if you’re feeling anything right now besides heartache still. 

“Hi, ‘Mione.” You mutter, your eyes finding their way to the Slytherin table on their own. You see Draco hand in hand with Pansy, striking your heart with a sharp pang.

“Come on, come sit with me and the boys.” Hermione leads you away, forcing you to tear your eyes from the platinum-haired boy. You don’t feel his eyes on you as you sit between Harry and Hermione across from Ron at the breakfast table.

“Hi, (Y/n).” Harry and Ron speak up sympathetically. You give them a pathetic wave, digging into your breakfast quietly. No one says a word.

“Well, (Y/n), you have quite a bit of school work to catch up on. We have a test in transfiguration today, and of course, there’s always potions to catch up on, Snape is quite the…” Hermione continues on, but you tune her out as you continue to eat. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Harry sets his hand on your shoulder, breaking you from your thoughts. You turn to look at him, eyes glazed as you take in the concern on his face. You force a small smile on your face.

“Never been better.” You lie. You see a small frown form on his lips. He knows you’re lying, it’s not hard to tell.

~+~

It goes like that for a couple of weeks, the same draining day after day after day. You get used to the lifeless routine, hoping that one day color will return to the world. Everything seems duller than it used to be. You can’t bear to look at the constellations the same way anymore, either.

That is, until one day.

“(Y/n), can we talk?” You hear a pained voice behind you. You turn around, a blank look staying steady on your face.

“No.” You deadpan, seeing Draco standing there.

“Please...I need to speak with you. Alone.” He begs, going as far as to stop you when you try to walk away from him.

“You already won, what more could you want from me?” You ask, your tone staying even and deadly with venom.

“It was...Please, let me speak to you alone--”

“No!” For once, you’re feeling more than heartache. You’re feeling anger.

“(Y/n/n)...”

“You don’t get to call me that! You lost that privilege when you ripped my heart out, tore it to shreds, and stomped on it right in front of me! Sure, it was in our little bet to break each other’s heart, but you didn’t have to be so cruel.” You seethe, letting your pent up frustration go on him.

“That’s what I want to talk about-”

“You can save your apology because I don’t want to hear it! I don’t want to hear how you still hate me but you--”

“It was a mistake, okay!” He yells at you. You see people start to stare at the two of you. You grab his arm and shove him into the empty hallway, slamming the door behind you.

He starts to say something, but you hold your hand up to silence him.

“No. You do not get to waltz back into my life with your smooth lines as if you didn’t completely ruin it with your words just a few weeks ago. You said it yourself, Draco, we’re through. You even have Pansy now.” You growl, tears pricking at your eyes again. No way would he get away with this. Not again.

“Please just...hear me out. I know it’s not as easy as just saying sorry--”

“No, I’m done, I’m leaving. I can’t-- I can’t…” You start to choke on your own words again, the tears finding their paths down your cheeks. The barricades have broken again and you’re left with the rivers you thought had finally dried up.

“No. I’m not leaving you alone until I tell you this. I do love you. I did back then, too, I just...I let my pride get the better of me. I couldn’t tell what love was until I lost it. You left a void in my heart and...and I tried to fill it with Pansy but I didn’t need another girl I...I needed you. I broke up with Pansy just a few days after being with her.” You hear his voice turn hoarse and you look up to see tears running down Draco’s cheeks, too. In all your years of knowing him, you had never seen him cry.

“Your smooth lines…got us into this mess. You and your stupid bet,” You growl, wiping the tears off your cheeks furiously.

“And I hate myself for it! I had feelings for you back then, dammit, I just knew I wouldn’t be able to ask you out normally with you accepting. I’m not even sure I knew that I had feelings at that point. I messed it up...I mess everything up... with my reputation and pride.” He admits, reaching a hand out to you. You look at it and shake your head.

“I’m not...I’m not convinced,” You sniffle.

“Please, I’ll do anything to convince you. No matter how long it takes. I want you back (Y/n), and I promise I’ll do whatever it takes, however long it takes, to gain your trust back little by little. Until you’re mine again.” He promises. 

You look into his eyes and see through the cracks tiny pieces of hope. You think maybe, just maybe, that the genuine smiles and love that you saw were real. The genuine kindness that you so ache to see again. And maybe now you have a chance to see them again. What does he have to gain at this point? Why is he confessing all of this right now? It’s ruining his reputation as a player and flirt, which is exactly what the bet was all about. Why?

“....One more chance. And it’s not coming easily. You’re working for it, Malfoy, I am not one to win back easily. Any wrong moves and you’re gone. For good.” You promise him, the tears finally slowing down until they’re reduced to occasional sniffs.

“That’s all I’m asking for.” He reaches for your hand, but you pull it away from him.

“We’re not a couple. I’m not ready for that. I hardly trust you anymore. We’re friends and that’s it right now. We’ll see how it goes.” You warn him. He nods vigorously.

“Anything for you.” He nods.

For the first time in weeks, there’s a small kernel of hope in you that wasn’t there before.

~+~

It’s been two years since that day, and you and Draco are back together and happily dating. You have been for almost a year at this point. You’re sure he’s the one after he went through a year of torture trying to get you back. He finally earned your trust and love back and the two of you have been happy ever since. He hasn’t done anything to deter you. Nothing big, anyway.

“Draco, fetch me the mistletoe, will you?” You hum, grinning at your boyfriend as you finish decorating your new apartment for Christmas. The two of you have been out of schooling for a year and a half, happily enjoying the new freedom. You’ve both gotten amazing jobs as Aurors, getting to work side by side in the ministry of magic as you catch dark wizards and put them behind bars. Things honestly couldn’t be better.

“Here you go, love.” He goes to hand you the mistletoe, holding it slightly out of your reach above your heads. You giggle and lean in, kissing him deeply. He kisses back, wrapping a hand around your waist as the other continues to hold the mistletoe above you.

“That was sweet, but I do want that mistletoe now,” You joke, reaching up and taking the mistletoe from him. He complies.

“I was thinking...it’s a few days before Christmas, would you mind opening one of the gifts I got you early?” He asks, gesturing to a big box sitting next to the tree.

“Draco, we’re supposed to wait until Christmas to open gifts,” You jokingly complain and he grins, knowing you won’t say no to opening a gift early. 

“Oh, come on, it’s just one gift.” He teases, sliding the box over to you. 

“Oh, alright, if you insist.” You grin at him, tearing open the outside wrapping paper. You open the big box and find another slightly smaller box inside, only to open that one and find another smaller box inside. You giggle as you continue to open boxes and find smaller ones inside until you finally reach a small box that fits into your palm, wrapped neatly in wrapping paper.

“Go on, open it,” Draco coaxes you on. You smile.

“But it’s so small and cute,” You hum, admiring the cute little wrapped box.

“I think you’ll like what’s inside more.” He chuckles. You giggle and tear the wrapping paper off of it, showing a small velvety box. You gasp, tears pricking at your eyes. Draco takes the box from your hand, getting on one knee as he opens it up to you, revealing a sparkling diamond ring in it.

“Draco, I--” You choke on your words, tears of joy brimming your eyes.

“(Y/n/n)...you make me the happiest man alive. I’m so lucky you gave me another chance because I cannot imagine my life not by your side. So...will you do me the absolute honor, and marry me?” He asks. You notice his hands shaking and you let out a short burst of air before nodding vigorously.

“Yes, yes of course I’ll marry you, Draco!” You cry, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Draco stands up, excitement clear on his face as he takes the ring out of the box and slides it on your finger. He delicately lifts you in his arms and kisses you passionately. Your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. 

Now, truly, things can’t get any better. And you mean that with all of your heart.

[jeonqqin]

man up. [m] | pt. 6

h. jisung x reader | netflix rom-com au

— ❝Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?❞

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

CONTAINS: brothers best friend au, teen rom-com au, sorta crack fic, love triangle au, college au

WARNING: language, eventual smut, heated kissing, minor groping, a wee bit of angst 

A/N: sorry this one was late... like all the others. but hey you can’t blame me for trying lmao

▸ request

CHAPTERS:  01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 +

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song

© jeonqqin 2020

—UNEDITED

Your head began to spin as your eyes dropped to the text sent to you, the number attached to a name that you least expected. You would never admit to how fast your heart pulsed in your chest as you skimmed the words over and over. Had Jisung said anything to her about what happened?

Was she upset with you for sending her precious boyfriend into a panic attack?

Maybe you were walking straight into a bear trap but you couldn’t bring yourself to decline or ignore her message. The guilt of hurting Jisung was too fresh, so you had a hard time doing anything against him—and in a way, ignoring Hyunae’s messages was just that. You just hoped it wasn’t an elaborate set up where she jumped you and scratched your throat out with her excessively polished fingernails. But even if she did, it was pretty fair to say that you deserved it. 

So after your first class, you were able to hop on the bus for a quick trip to Haven, the thought of your next class lodged in the back of your mind. After the incident in Minho’s apartment, you hadn’t stepped a foot back inside. Granted it had only been twelve hours at the most, but it felt like days when it seemed like everyone was mad at you. Word of what happened traveled fast, and despite no one in your group of friends asking you about it specifically, you knew that they knew. You suspected that Changbin was the culprit, but you really couldn’t blame him. He didn’t exactly know the extent of the situation. 

But it was hard when even Felix seemed hesitant to talk to you. 

Chan was still there to text you every hour, even after you explained most of the situation to him. But he remained understanding and sweet. 

As he was all the time.

When you walked into the diner, a burst of warmth enveloped you and your nose turned up at the scent of comfort food and coffee. It was nice, and eased some of the tension in your muscles. 

Hyunae sat along the inside booths where most of the diners traffic was, close enough to the door that you could run if you needed to. She had her eyes cast down on her phone and your arrival hadn’t been noticed—you could’ve turned around and left then and there, ending all of your messy doubts and fears for the day. But you couldn’t. Your feet continued forward without your consent, dragging you those last final inches to her table. 

With the new presence, she looked up.

Hyunae’s eyes widened for a second, darting over your form as if to double check that you were really there. 

“I kind of didn’t think you were going to come.” She exhaled a small laugh, motioning towards the other side of the table where a still hot cup of coffee sat. 

You took the cup in your cold hands, “Thanks…”

You didn’t know what to say—the ball was in her park and she was in control of where things headed. 

She sighed, leaning back against the booth, her pretty skin flushed with the nip of the air. “I’ll just cut to the chase… I wanted to apologize for what I did—for everything that I did. I’ve been a bitch for a while, and I only realized it now.”

With her avoiding eye contact, you could openly gape at her confession, because—what?

The Hyunae was apologizing to you?

“I don’t—I don’t really understand why you’re suddenly apologizing.” You said, voice hoarse. 

Hyunae tugged her sweater closer to her form, arms curling around her waist as someone else walked through the door, sending a blast of cold air through the diner. 

“You know, for being a complete bitch to you while Ji and I were dating. It was all a jealousy thing to be completely honest. I didn’t actually—”

You blinked, waving your hand out to stop her rambling. You weren’t sure that you could process the first half of her words, let alone the endless ramble that she was capable of spewing. 

“Are…” you swallowed. “Are you guys not together?”

She frowned, brows furrowed.

“Jisung broke up with me, Y/n. Did he not tell you?”

The scratch of a broken record echoed through your head as you nearly dropped the ceramic cup of coffee all over yourself. 

“What?”

She nodded slowly, “I thought you would be the first person he told, considering…”

“Considering what?”

Her briefness and dodging was only making you frustrated, your hand waving in front of her face to finally gain her eyes. You had no idea that Jisung broke up with her, and you had no idea why. Some part of you hoped that the reason had something to do with you, but you just pushed that load of feelings away. It wasn’t fair to think of such things while the girl who had recently been broken up with sat directly in front of you. 

You really were a god awful person. 

She laughed a little, her eyes taking in your complete disbelief. 

“Well I’ll be damned. You two really are perfect for each other, huh?”

Before you could ask exactly what that was supposed to mean, you watched as her cheeks flushed a bright red—this time not at the fault of the air. Again she laughed, all humor aside, and her hands lifted to her face as tears leaked from her eyes. 

“God,” she sniffed, frantically moving to wipe her face with her sleeve. “You both really suck.”

You leaned forward awkwardly, passing her a napkin from the holder with a small tilt of your head. “I’ve come to realize that recently.”

She gave you a look that read, “don’t agree with me” and it managed to pull a laugh from your own throat. Hyunae might’ve been a little bit of a bitch, but it wasn’t without reason. She was insecure and jealous and those two things are away at someone like a virus. It was almost impossible to not feel such things at your age.

You always forgot that you were barely out of high school, the years of petty emotions and fake relationships hadn’t quite yet been erased from your minds. You were all in the same boat.

Just trying to learn along the way. 

“You know what’s funny…” Hyunae smiled, her eyes wet. “I always kind of routed for you two. I didn’t really know it, but it was always in the back of my head.”

You felt your lip wobble, but you bit it down, clenching your jaw. There was no way in hell that you were going to cry. You weren’t going to do that—you had no reason to. Hyunae was the one who just lost her boyfriend, and she was the only one who was supposed to be sad. 

“Every time you and him were together it just looked so right. I don’t know…” She swiped her hair over her shoulder with a sigh. “I honestly couldn’t believe it when he asked me to be his girlfriend, I thought you two had been a thing for a while—” right, you nearly forgot about the time when Hyunae was simply a friend. “—but then he came bounding up with a goofy smile on his face and that was it. It was over.”

Hyunae and Jisung had some math class together back in high school, he didn’t tell you much about her, but you knew enough to think she was a decent person. Back in those days, Hyunae was much different; sporting a thick pair of glasses and dark hair. But still just as gorgeous, as everyone with two eyes could see. 

She followed Jisung around like a lost puppy, and even had to be shooed away by Minho a few times. You were just glad that she listened, since Minho’s temper had been much worse then. You didn’t remember the details but you did remember the day that Jisung jumped back to your house with a big smile and flushed cheeks. It was a time when you were still an angsty teenager and listened to terrible love songs when you were in emotional distress. So that news was a real punch in the face. 

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know what else to say, she wasn’t exactly your friend, so you didn’t know how to take in and process the information that she just threw at you. 

Hyunae shook her head.

“Don’t be sorry. I had a feeling before that it was going to happen sooner or later. Who knew it was going to be so much later?”

You sent her a small smile. She wasn’t half bad when she wasn’t completely ignoring your existence and sending murderous glances your way. 

The waiter rounded up to your table—unfortunately, not Jeongin—and proceeded to ask you what you wanted to order. After Hyunae promised to pay for your meal as well, the two of you talked for what seemed to be hours. You didn’t talk about anything at all—going on about classes and professors that you couldn’t stand. Your mind was clear for the first time in weeks and it was beyond refreshing to talk to her about things that only another girl would understand. Being around boys every day of your life had taken a toll on you and you hadn’t realized it until you were laughing as Hyunae ranted about how obviously sexist your communications professor was. 

You could be yourself around the boys, of course. But with her, you could be someone you hadn’t been in a long time. 

With a fry between her fingers, she hummed, leaning her chin on her hand. 

It was only a matter of time before she reverted to what she came to talk to you about, and you tried your hardest to redirect the conversation each time it looked like it was going to be lead down that spiral of absolute hell—

“I think you guys would be cute together.”

You deadpanned, flicking your empty straw wrapper in her direction. 

“Are we really talking about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named right now?” You quirked a brow, not at all happy with the way she snickered at your question.

“If it makes you feel better, Y/n… I think I’ve had feelings for Hyunjin for a long time as well.”

“Oh yeah, my guilt is cured.”

She nearly snorted her water, sputtering a little bit around her mouthful. You took a bit of pride in that. 

“I actually missed your sarcasm, believe it or not.”

Sighing, you threw all of your remaining trash onto one plate, your belly finally full and happy. “Wow, you actually remember when we didn’t hate each other?”

“You really hated me?”

“A little bit. Your whole lovey-dovey act was a bit sickening.” You shrugged. 

“Because you’re in love with Ji?”

You froze immediately. 

Hyunae couldn’t just drop it? Her constant mention of Jisung was really putting a damper on your mood, and the itch of fight or flight was really beginning to kick in once again. 

And to think things were going so well. 

“No,” you said, shaking your head quickly. “No no, I have a boyfriend. Sort of... I’m not in love with anyone—”

“Y/n, look at me. Please,” she reached over the table to tap your chin with her pretty manicured finger, her face pulling into a soft smile. “Darling, it’s been almost two years since we graduated high school, and nothing has changed between the two of you since then. Even while you were dating other people. He still looks at you like you hung the damn stars and you still blush whenever he calls you those stupid little pet names he has for you. You’re both whipped.”

Your face softened under her stare. Her words hit a cord inside of your chest, but it was just something that made your head hurt when you thought about it. You didn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it. 

“Jisung and I have only ever been friends. Yes, we’ve been good friends for a long time, but he has never told me anything about liking me. If he can’t tell me something as simple as this then I don’t think I can—”

Suddenly her eyes were hard set, piecing fiercely into yours. It stopped you in your tracks immediately. 

“Don’t make me get any more upset with you, okay?” 

Hyunae was definitely a force to be reckoned with. 

“Listen,” She sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. “Jisung is the best guy I’ve ever dated and that probably won’t ever change. I want him to be happy, and I want you to be happy too. So please just think about things. I’m here telling you that this boy is head over heels in love with you—that he has been for years. His fault here is the fact that he’s so oblivious to his own feelings that he can’t see yours. He just—” her hands flailed in front of her, searching for her next words. “—doesn’t know how.”

You sighed. “I always liked Jisung when I was a kid. Hell, even earlier this year I could turn to you and say—yes, I am in love with Han Jisung.” 

Hyunae blinked. 

“But who the hell am I to say that I’m in love with someone? I’m not—I’m definitely not.” You sighed, mind wandering back to when things barely crossed your mind for longer than a minute. Things had been tossed around so lightly. “It was frustrating because it was so easy to like him when I was young. There wasn’t this huge word hanging over my head like there is now.”

Hyunae pushes her empty plate to join yours, speaking without a care. “You know that you don’t have to love him, right? You could simply like him.”

You felt the weight behind what she was saying in your chest, you didn’t have to label what you felt for him if you still weren’t sure. The only problem with that was that you knew what you felt for Jisung, and it was stupid. Because how could you look at someone and know how you felt when you hadn’t even seen every side of them? 

You couldn’t remember when he had last been serious with you. Never once had he looked at you with the eyes of an adult and told you about his inner thoughts. That wasn’t who Jisung was, he avoided those thoughts. 

He was only ever happy around you, and whether that was a good or a bad thing, you had no idea. 

“Was Jisung ever serious with you?”

Hyunae was momentarily stunned by your out of place question but she recovered with a small hum. “Well, a little bit. Whenever he was upset or tired he’d get a little snippy, but serious? I’m not really sure.”

That was just how Jisung was.

“Huh…”

“Oh,” she chirped suddenly, her lead raising as if she remembered something. “There was a moment when he was always serious.” 

Your head quirked to the side in question, eyes wide with curiosity. Despite knowing him for years, there was still plenty of unknowns to Han Jisung, and you were curious to know more.

“What is it?”

Hyunae’s mouth opened for a moment, then closed. Many things flashed over her face at once, but it was safe to assume that she was rethinking her words. Your chest fell. 

Her eyes darted away from yours, guilt flashing over her features. “I don’t think I can tell you that.”

“Not fair,” frowning, you pouted. “That’s the worst cliffhanger ever.”

She tisked, small smile pulling to her lips. “Well,” she shrugged. “You could always move forward to find out.”

She was right, you could. 

There were many things you had to move forward with, many people you had to have a conversation with; Jisung definitely being one of them. With a mental list of all the people that you had questions and answers for, everything only just began to clear themselves up. It was small, but it was something. Your head was always busy anyway, having things clearing out was like a breath of fresh air that you could barely reach. 

But it was still something. 

“You’re right. I think I just have to start with someone else.”

Hyunae smiled, “Get on with it then. Hurry your ass out of here.”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t expecting this,”

Maybe you shouldn’t have listened to Hyunae. 

Your heart was pounding radically in your chest as you sat straight as a board on the spinning office chair of the notorious recording room. You hadn’t seen it since that day it all began—honestly it had seemed so long ago. The room was cleaned up and organized, all the wires neatly tucked into the back instead of sprawled all over the floor, and you found yourself focusing more on that than the person in front of you. 

You almost had to force yourself to your chair, everything feeling way too heavy for your liking. 

“What do you mean?”

Chan ran a hand through his messy curls. It was only a few days ago that you had wanted to run your own fingers through his dark hair. 

“You and Jisung aren’t very subtle, but uh, I was just hoping you could like me—” he paused for a moment, filing through his mind for the right words. “—as well, I guess.”

“Oh…”

“Hey, it’s fine. Jisung’s a good guy, you guys will be good together.”

Had you stepped into a parallel universe where every ex was supportive instead of filled with rage?

“But—well, I don’t even know if we are going to end up together or anything like that. My head has just been all over the place lately and I definitely never intended to drag you into this mess. I feel awful, god I’m a terrible person, aren’t I—?”

“Y/n.” Chan said, voice firm. 

Your cheeks heated at the realization of your otherwise embarrassing ramble. 

“Sorry…” You squeaked. 

Chan sighed, leaning more weight against his desk. “Don’t be sorry. I just don’t want you freaking out here. You need to know that I’m an adult too, none of this is all your fault.”

You froze for a moment—one stupid moment just looking into Chan’s pretty brown eyes and realizing how weak they made you feel. 

Chan’s mouth curled into a sympathetic smile as a tear rolled down the apple of your cheek. His hand reached forward to swipe the intact droplet with his pointer finger, and a small giggle rippled through his chest. 

“God—Don’t cry, stupid,” he suddenly brushed his hand over your face, an attempt to raise your spirits to the very end. “You’re making me feel bad.”

“I hate you…” You sniffed, swatting his hand away with a quiet sob. 

As his finger ran over your wet cheek to collect the little drops that leaked down, you weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry so you did both, once again crumbling under his touch.

“Hey,” he smiled. “You can’t hate me. I should be the one hating you.”

Your lip jutted out into a pout, one that he wanted so badly to kiss from your lips. 

“Then we can hate each other.”

Chan hummed, watching as your jaw clenched in an attempt to keep your emotions from falling down your cheeks. You didn’t want him to see just how conflicted you were, he knew that much. 

“Okay. We can do that.” 

And he leaned down to place a soft kiss to the top of your head, careful of the affection he gave you. 

But it only made your stupid heart hiccup in your chest, opposed to the way it would’ve raced had it only been days prior. 

With Jisung it was warmth that spread over your body, but with Chan it was like floating in a pool of water with all your clothes on; encasing and safe and just a little sticky. 

You were sure if you wanted to chase after the brief relief that Chan brought to you, it was difficult to tell with the way you were trying to find your answers. Was one more chance unfair to Chan? Even after explaining your inner (and slightly unknown) thoughts and feelings to him about Jisung, could you still salvage anything if you tried one more time?

“Can I… kiss you please?” You asked, neither looking in his eyes or at his plump lips. You really liked his lips. 

Chan smiled, eyes darting down to your little pout. He liked your lips too. 

“You want to?”

You hummed, a small nod to tell him that you were too embarrassed to confirm his words with those of your own. But Chan was understanding and patient. He didn’t push you to do anything as Jisung did—Chan was so perfect, why the hell did you think about Han Jisung?

What was wrong with you?

You didn’t want to answer that question. You wanted it all to go away—the fear, the confusion, everything. And the way Chan was looking at you made you feel it all simmer down to nothing. His eyes were so soft. 

You were backpedaling, you knew that. But it was hard not to when Chan felt so safe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” His lips quirked up. 

You felt bad for not liking Chan the way you liked Jisung. He was better to love and he showed you everything you had missed before. He held you when you were sad, cooed into your ear that everything was going to be alright when it was him who was taking the loss. Why did he do that?

Leaning forward, you all but collapsed into his embrace, finally feeling his soft lips again. 

One thing you loved about Chan was his arms. You loved how they felt around you, and how strong they were. A lot of people liked his arms for those reasons too, you supposed. He may have been your first, but you certainly weren’t his. 

How long were you going to go back and forth?

Reassurance was what you had with Chan, but with Jisung there was time. You took your time with him unknowingly, watching him with your brother as they played video games in Minho’s room. You were yelled at, pushed, and locked out, but you still got back up and pushed back. As uncool of a sister you were back then, you persisted. 

Minho and Jisung would tease you and pick on you all they wanted, but you were still there at the end of the day. Tear stained cheeks and dirty clothes, and you were still there carrying your silly crush on your big brother’s best friend. 

There was time spent building something to stand on, years of pining and banter lead to a feeling that you couldn’t just replace with a kind heart and a kiss. 

No matter how nice the lips you kissed were. 

Chan knew this too. He knew you were thinking of so many different factors at once, and he was still pulling you tight to him, aware that your kiss would be his last from you. What he felt with you was terrifying. 

You both meant to forget. 

His arms held you tight, hands respectfully placed on your waist as you pushed and pushed into the embrace. The kiss was all new and too intense, but there was something screaming at you to just keep going. 

It grew more heated and your emotions mingled as a small voice began chipping away at the back of your mind; telling you that you didn’t deserve it, that you didn’t deserve him. Even as you found yourself lifting to your knees and straddling his waist, the voice persisted, not even silenced by the soft words that Chan spoke. 

“I feel like you’re going to break if I touch you.” He admitted, voice unstable. 

You shook your head in a daze, “I won’t, I promise.”

You wanted the thought of Jisung out—the thought of him touching another girl the same way Chan was touching you. Did he hold Hyunae like this? Did he kiss her like she was the most precious thing to him? Was there a chance that he would with you? Did he even want to? 

You wanted no part of that thought so you pushed further. 

“I’ll be okay, Chan. If it’s you, I’ll be okay.” You murmured.

Chan’s heart thudded in his chest. 

And in that moment, he almost forgot that you were in love with someone else. 

“Okay, I’ll take care of you.”

You smiled, a small burst of heat running over your cheeks. 

“Sap…”

Chan nearly responded with, “but I’m your sap” but he managed to bite his tongue, distracting himself by slipping one hand under the hem of your shirt. His hand was cold but not unwelcome as it felt along your stomach, and for the first time being with Chan your thoughts slipped—his hand was too strong, too rough. It wasn’t soft and pretty like Jisung’s, it wasn’t warm and comfortable like Jisung’s had been around your waist that morning. Chan’s hands were veiny and cold to the touch. Of course ther was nothing wrong with that. But they weren’t Jisung’s.

All it took was one hug from Jisung to stir up your head, huh?

But he had felt so nice against your back, his with but muscular build feeling like it was meant to be there all along. He had hugged you from behind back in high school many times, his chin resting on your shoulder and his breath fanning over your neck. It was hard to focus then, and it had been hard to focus that morning as well. How did you not know it was Jisung?

Sure, he and Chan were similar in height but Jisung just fit differently. 

And when his eyes landed on your neck, it had been the feeling of panic that crossed you. You didn’t want Jisung to see you like that—with another man’s markings over your throat. 

A sudden thought crossed your mind as Chan slowed his lips journey on your neck…

Was it really Minho that was preventing you from dating? 

The look in your brother’s eyes had been one of disappointment, but he hadn’t done anything, and deep down you knew there was no way he would really hurt the person you were in a relationship with. Of course he would scare them away and make it clear that he wasn’t a fan of you dating, but there you were, watching him do it, barely giving your big brother a slap on the wrist—

“Y/n,” Chan called, and you hadn’t even realized that he had taken his mouth off of your shoulder. “Babygirl…”

He tested the name on his tongue.

But his doubts were confirmed as you frowned. The nickname would’ve once sounded like heaven leaving his lips, but now...

He sent you a small smile after studying your features for a moment. 

“Do you miss him, right now?”

Your eyes widened at his words—you did. 

“No. Of course not,” you said, shaking your head with shaky inhales. “Why are you asking me that?”

There was an internal battle behind Chan’s eyes as he watched your face morph into discomfort. He was a little frustrated. 

Chan removed his hand from underneath your shirt. 

“If we’re going to be friends, Y/n… I don’t want you to lie to me anymore, okay?”

The shock that his words gave you made your eyes well up. It was like a punch to the gut to hear Chan scold you. He had never done such a thing before and you knew—you knew for sure that you couldn’t keep lying. 

When you cried, Chan didn’t wipe away your tears, he simply kept his eyes on yours as his hand rubbed small circles on your back. You needed to cry, and of course Chan knew that. 

He was Chan after all. 

“I’m so sorry—” you hiccuped, swallowing air as your palms lifted to cover your eyes. “—this sucks. This really really sucks.”

Chan sighed, feeling the sleepless nights catch up to him as he watched you break down. It was the worst feeling. It wasn’t that you were very obviously in love with someone else despite how his own chest aches for you to sink back into him and kiss the tiredness away, no—it was the fact that it was tearing you apart.  That was what hurt him the most. 

“Go see Ji.” 

Chan topped your head up with his finger, leaving one last peck to your tear covered lips. 

“He’s probably still upset.”

You nodded, laying your head down on his chest with a shaky sigh. “You’re a good guy, Chan…”

“Yeah, I know.”

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.25}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.2k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

Two minutes after the elaborate goodnight wishes, the five girls were finally on their way down to the dungeons. Cas was babbling away as always, entertaining both Melissa and Lisa to the fullest, while Jorien and Robin merely listened and observed as they followed behind. The three girls up front barely made it down the spiral staircase, giggling as they were, but not even the gloomy darkness of the dungeon hallways could bring the calm and quiet of the night into their conversation as they happily chatted on and on about the many highlights of the dance. Thus it wasn't surprising when a minute later nobody took notice of Robin's quiet yelp as she was whisked away from the group in a crossing of one gloomy hallway with an even darker one.

The adrenaline in Robin's blood skyrocketed immediately, the yelp dying on her lips in a broken moment of initial surprise. Then the familiar arm around her waist and the comforting scent of home quenched every spark of fear or panic in her mind.

She found herself pressed against the cold stone wall a second later, kept in place by the weight of his body while his soft lips on her own demanded a fire she gladly returned, and every last cell in her body lit up in roaring flames as an immediate response. Her heart was bursting, drumming furiously against her ribcage while its echoes pulsed through her entire body in sheer blissful heat. Oh bloody fucking hell, this was magnificent… breathtaking, in every sense of the word. And it still was terribly dangerous, even here now in the dark. That, perhaps, was the only flaw of the moment, their one and only honest mistake.

"Are you aware that you are way too good at this?" Snape finally asked, ragged breaths brushing against Robin's skin as he leaned his forehead against hers. Upon this she smiled, but her eyes stayed closed as she found herself too overwhelmed to open them. She didn't need to; she could feel him, his presence, his warmth, his entire being…

"Really?" She finally let out a humoured and incredulous huff in reply. How could she be any good at this if she had never kissed anyone before? Was her lack of experience really not all that noticeable?

"Without a doubt. I would never allow myself to get this carried away in a school hallway of all places if you didn't enchant me beyond any measure. Beyond any reason."

"Sev-..." She was cut off by his lips, both in word and thought and she lost every string of reason that had just started to gather back together. Oh screw experience, they were way too good at this to even think of that. She must be doing something very right if he couldn't stop this madness either, couldn't resist the growing addiction.

It once again was the noise of people crossing by in a hallway close by that broke them apart, and only then Robin noticed for the first time how much it hurt to stand on one's tiptoes for an extended amount of time. For a kiss like that, she still would do it again and again any time.

"I should apologise for seizing you like that without your permission." He finally said when the retiring students' laughter and chattering had faded in the distance, then he took a step backwards to give Robin her space as well. "Who knew I could act like a dunderhead myself, given the chance."

"Oh, I knew." Robin couldn't help grinning as she stepped away from the wall, which earned her a small glare and a not-smirk. "And as much as I understand and appreciate your point, you do have my permission. Besides, where would be the point in suddenly pressing me against a wall and kissing me senseless if it came with a warning?"

Snape didn't look at her, but the corners of his lips were twitching and she could tell with utmost certainty that he was amused even though being rather flustered at the same time. It was surprisingly adorable, really, and made her wonder if he had never been in such a situation before. Well, not exactly the same situation, obviously, but still…

"I have wanted to do that for a long time now." He replied to her surprise, and his eyes were back on hers, dark and intense and every last idea of adorable was gone. Instead, his gaze made Robin shiver in delighted excitement. "But never would I have thought that it would be better than anything I was even vaguely able to imagine."

"You imagined kissing me?"

"More often than I should admit to, if I want to keep some last scraps of dignity at least."

"I've seen you lying in a muddy river before, as well as being stuck in a giant cobweb. And if that's not enough, we were just snogging in the hallways like the hormonal teenagers we scold for doing the very same. I think it's a bit too late to worry about your dignity with me." Robin chuckled, louder even when Snape rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, but her heart soared when he smiled again after all. "We really should get out of the hallways though, I'm tired of fearing people might run into us. I really don't see how the danger of getting caught can be appealing to someone, for me it's just nerve-wracking."

"I could not agree more."

After taking two seconds to straighten out their appearances just in case, they made their way through the gloomy darkness side by side like they had done so often by now, with the small but significant change that the accidental touches, the brushing of hands and bumping of arms were more intentional than not this time, and both knew it to be their fullest intention as well. Robin couldn't keep the grin off her face, but she bit her bottom lip to tone it down as much as possible. She hadn't felt so much giddy excitement in one night since… well, ever really. And when they walked right past the office, then past the lab as well, a liquid lightning ran from the top of her head down her spine to her very core and every cell beyond. These new rushes were only an additional layer to the bottomless adoration and affection that had been there for years now, to the deeply rooted love she held for him, but it was a heavenly addition nonetheless. It certainly gave the term 'allconsuming' an entirely new meaning, an inevitably deeper one.

It was only when Snape stopped in the crossing of hallways that on one end led to the common room and to his rooms on the other that Robin's smile faltered. With a confused frown she didn't bother to hide she came to a halt as well, looking up at him with the question clear as night in her eyes so she wouldn't have to say the words. It was safer than admitting to being as boldly assuming as she had been… somehow she hadn't doubted that they would at least have a coffee. Like always. Or… did he need space now, with everything that had happened? After all the days and nights they had spent together, he didn't really strike Robin as the kind of person who would need space, not from her. From others, yes, always if possible, but he hadn't sent her away in years, rather on the contrary really. So-...

"I don't know if this could be considered a good idea by any means." He said in a calm tone, reluctant almost while yet he reached out for Robin's hand and pulled her closer to himself. Always the contradiction, that man…

"And why wouldn't it be a good idea?" She asked in return, calm encouragement colouring her voice now that she knew the reason for his hesitation wasn't a sudden wish for distance. Indeed, as if to prove that point, he interlaced their fingers and drew her closer the last bit in a single move of gentle elegance.

"Because if you come with me right now, I won't let you leave again until we are late for breakfast." He replied quietly and yet in that intense sincerity that had Robin's heart skipping beats while her eyes were glued to his. Gods, he really did mean it… excitement struck her like lightning, her heartbeat posed the thunder.

"I can live with that." She managed to say in a breath, her lips curving up into a smile upon the repetition of his earlier words. Then they formed a smirk as she went on. "Bold of you to assume that I'll want to leave for breakfast though."

"Oh, I've never been partial to having three meals per day anyway."

His reply made Robin laugh, then smile up at him brightly and with just a hint of tease. "It's not such a bad idea after all, huh?"

"That would depend entirely on who you ask." He quirked an eyebrow at her with a not-smirk, then walked on down the hallway with a start while keeping hold of Robin's hand. She didn't need to be not-told twice to follow, and was again walking by his side when he spoke on. "I for my part cannot complain, and I honestly don't care about any other opinion but yours beyond that."

"Complaining wouldn't help you at this point anyway, because I have recently discovered the perfect way to bribe you."

"Is that so?"

"Open the door and I'll show you." Robin replied easily but with a teasing smirk no less once they reached his rooms in the bow of the hallway.

"Don't tempt me."

"Isn't that what a temptation is supposed to do?" She quipped while her smirk broadened. "Tempt?"

"You are insufferable."

"Or perhaps tease? Allure? Seduce? Ens-..." She didn't get further when she was pulled through the now open door and into the darkness behind it, barely catching how it was thrown shut again before she found herself tightly trapped against it from the inside. The grin that wanted to form on her lips died a broken second later when she got exactly what she wanted, and yet, as always, so much more.

His lips moved against hers in hunger, returning every bit of passion she gave, and yet there wasn't a hint of roughness in the kiss, no blunt strength which would taint the blissful sensuality. In a spark of boldness or bravery, Robin traced the tip of her tongue over his bottom lip, only for him to gasp against her lips in return. When she wrapped her arms around his neck and did the same thing again, the gasp turned into a silent moan and he pulled her with him away from the door, staggering through the darkness with a baffling certainty until one unfortunate movement of his hand over the hurting spot on Robin's back made her first hiss in pain, then flinch at the intensity of it. He let go of her immediately in return, and Robin's first fathomable thought was a silent curse directed at Morgan for being the cause of what had broken apart this moment. The stupid pain in her back.

"What did I do this time?" Snape asked in honest concern as well as subtle remorse, and a second later the fireplace lit up from a wordless spell, illuminating the remainder of the room in a gentle orange golden glow. They had almost reached the sofa by now, obviously having made their way there before the pain had put a stop to their plans.

"You did absolutely nothing wrong, I promise." Robin immediately gave him a small but reassuring smile, and held onto him so he wouldn't even think about moving away. "It's just that spot on my back that's still hurting ever since Morgan touched it, it really doesn't matter. Don't worry."

"Your back simply started hurting out of nowhere upon his touch during the dance? And he didn't speak a word?" Snape still inquired further, in lingering concern but quite obviously more at ease now that he knew it wasn't his doing that had hurt her at least. Robin had to smile at his sheer inability not to worry about her; it made her heart soar in warmth and adoration all the more. And seeing as he wouldn't stop asking, now that she had brought the mysterious pain to his attention, they might just have to deal with it right now.

"Not a word that was a spell, at least… and yes, he just traced his fingers over my back and that caused a strong stinging and burning that faded a moment later though. Now it hurts whenever someone even comes close to touching it. That's why I flinched so stupidly." She shrugged with a half smile. "Sorry for that."

"Don't apologise for what clearly isn't your fault. I should curse Morgan into oblivion for hurting you right in this instant… but I would rather take your pain away if I can." Snape sighed, then paused for a moment, lost in thought, before he finally spoke up again. "Did it hurt when your back hit the wall? Or the door? Or is it just a hand's touch that hurts?"

The question made Robin frown to herself; she hadn't considered that. The answer she came up with for herself then rendered her frown even deeper. "I believe it's just an actual human touch that causes me pain. It didn't hurt at all when I leaned against whatever surface, and neither does the dress make it sore or anything like that… But you and the girls could hurt me quite a bit by just touching any spot on my back. What does that mean?"

"I have a vague idea." He grumbled to himself at the thought of it, and Robin understood the sentiment only too well in this regard. "Can you touch it without pain?"

"I can try…" She mused and did just that, but even though she only barely could reach the spot with the back of her fingers when she twisted her arm enough, there should have been at least a little sting. But no, nothing, no pain at all. She frowned to herself again. "That's weird. I can't even precisely tell you where it is when it doesn't hurt… and I can touch it without pain. Perhaps it's nothing."

"Magical wounds should not be taken lightly, especially if inflicted by someone as irresponsible as Morgan. We should take you to the hospital wing."

"Or you could look at it here." Robin suggested easily, shrugging with one shoulder as she observed his reluctant but not averse expression. "You know more about the situation with Morgan, about what happened tonight and about me than anyone in the infirmary. I really don't mean to doubt their abilities at all, but I think if it's a magical thing of more or less unknown origin, it falls more into the dark arts anyway, which precisely is the point where I would prefer you to look at it. Who knows, maybe it really is nothing and we're through with it in two minutes… we could save ourselves the time of way. I have other plans for tonight than sitting around the infirmary with a bunch of punch-drunk students."

"Do you?" He couldn't help the smirk on his lips upon that, even though it was clear that he was trying to fight the short lived amusement due to the otherwise serious situation. At least it wasn't serious enough to warrant the complete absence of humour on his end, so that was a relief at least.

"Yeah, actually. I was hoping for a drink and the continuation of where we were interrupted, but I'm still open for further suggestions." She smiled up at him and he rolled his eyes, but the amusement stayed nonetheless, which sufficed to give Robin some more courage. They'd be through with this in no time, they always had been when she'd been injured. "Do you happen to know a spell to undo a million tiny buttons? I haven't found one yet, but if anyone knows such a thing, it would have to be you."

He let out an amused huff, then quirked an eyebrow at Robin. "I believe if there was such a spell, I would have discovered it by now. Every time I tried to invent one myself however, it led to the destruction of the garment rather than the desired result. Therefore I unfortunately have to disappoint you. Why do you ask?"

"Because it would have spared you work." She chuckled, somewhere between humour and embarrassment, the latter of which however she strongly tried to reason against. He'd seen her in various stages of undress over time, and it had never been a big deal. Or had it? Would he think differently of it now than he had over summer? Gods, why was she nervous now?! It wasn't even the kind of situation where she should be nervous, they were just trying to make sure that her back was alright, for heaven's sake! And she still stood with her point that she would rather have Snape looking at her injuries than anyone else, even in complete disregard to the most recent developments between them. This had nothing to do with that, it was just a coincidence. An oddly fitting one, going by the line of events.

Robin resisted the temptation to roll her eyes at herself and her antics and merely turned around so that her back was right in front of him, making an obvious point of what she wanted him to do. This wasn't a movie; plots didn't just fall into place like that. Two things could happen without any obvious correlation between them. She sighed, then focused on the task at hand. "Perhaps I should've worn a dress with a zipper like everyone else, huh? Then again, I wasn't really expecting anyone having to undress me tonight."

She didn't need to look at him to know that he was hesitating, and if she was honest, she couldn't really blame him. Truth was that things were different now, or could be different now, and it was uncharted territory for both of them. Either of them was uncertain what to make of it, afraid to make a wrong move. At least it brought some peace and relief to her mind that he obviously was just as insecure as she was in this new and yet so very familiar moment of innocent intimacy. Even though things like this had happened in the plenty over summer already.

"We're just looking at my back for the damage Morgan did yet again… Just like the times he dislocated my shoulder, or cut open my hand, or-... well, you know what I mean. You've seen me torn up and bloody before, and we've always taken care of it. And I know for a fact that your hands aren't cold, so there really is nothing to worry about, right?" She said in a calm, almost soothing voice, both to him and herself, and contrary to what she had thought, it actually caused an overwhelming wave of ease and comfort to wash over her when he finally started with the first button in the back of her neck. When his fingers brushed against her skin however, her breathing hitched nonetheless while goosebumps covered her skin within a broken second. Perhaps this wasn't entirely like it had been over summer… But comfort and excitement were what it caused yet again, and that really seemed to be a reoccurring theme with them. Their own perfect ambivalence. Home and adventure at once.

It didn't take long at all until the buttons were open down to her waist, just far enough so she could slip the spiky and stiff shoulder parts off her arms, which left her to clutch the front of her dress to her chest quite a bit more tightly than necessary. Robin blamed the neckline of her dress for making her forsake any kind of bralette… It left her upper body entirely bare now, and that in return was the reason why she was clutching the front of the dress to her chest. But then again, she didn't really mind it too much if she was being honest with herself. Having an excuse to show some skin… forcing her to be bolder than she was… it really was terribly exciting for some stupid reason. A lucky coincidence, even if a bit poorly timed. Most of all however, Robin liked the reaction she was getting from the man behind her, judged by the fact that his heartbeat had doubled in speed by the time her back was exposed to him almost entirely. There it was again, that overwhelming excitement that came with the power she seemed to have over him… the knowledge that her mere being did such things to him. But they were just looking at her back for the spellwork done on her, and she gave herself a mental slap to stop pondering how they could go on from there. Unrelated situations, and all that…

"So… how does it look?" She finally asked in a surprising calmness, considering that her every sense was heightened to the extreme. Gods, she wanted him to touch her skin again, even if it would hurt… No, bad thought, bad Robin! There was work to do, and she was getting distracted!

"Like three hand-length cuts that seem to have scarred. Did you ever notice those before? They look far older than just a few hours." He mused in return, then carefully pulled Robin closer to the fireplace by her elbow. She didn't resist and merely walked backwards blindly until she was in the direct light of the fire, and thereby also in the reach of its warmth. He stopped her there, and for a moment she wondered if he needed the light or if he had just noticed the goosebumps on her skin. Duh, obviously he had… they were hard to miss, even if they weren't at all caused by the cold. Either way, his hand lingered on her arm, and that was even more welcome than the fire's warmth.

"Actual scars? I don't think I've had them before, no. And truth be told, you probably would've seen them before if they had been there for longer." She finally remembered to reply, then frowned to herself. "And in addition to that, I can't remember ever getting severely injured on the back. Other than the thing with the bludger in fifth year, that is… I never really knew exactly how badly I hurt myself there, and I never dared to ask."

"Badly enough to have me terrified of your impending death."

"Oops…" She breathed rather lamely, then chuckled to herself almost apologetically. "I guess passing out in the infirmary right in front of your eyes didn't help much with that."

"No. Neither did it prepare me for the instance last summer where you actually came close to death when you passed out on my doorstep." He said in a sigh, then the hand on Robin's arm vanished as he spoke on. "Let us ensure that it won't happen again and find out what that pest of a man did to you this time. Tell me when the pain becomes noticeable, yes?"

Robin only hummed in agreement, and jumped a second later when he placed a hand on her shoulder this time, in a gentle touch that had her melting right on the spot. Slowly and with just enough pressure to be noticeable at all, his fingers danced across her skin, down to her shoulder blade and over her spine, tracing three lines at last with a bit more pressure. Robin had to bite her lip to keep in both a sigh of bliss and a whimper of pain. For some odd reason these two were currently very hard to tell apart in that they both caused an echo of his touch, a heat pulsing through her in the rhythm of her heartbeat.

"Didn't that hurt at all?" He asked with a frown practically ingrained in his tone, as well as confusion in the plenty, and Robin had to call defeat to circumstance.

"Oh. Yes, it did. Sorry, I really should have said something." She admitted in a quiet voice, then got a grasp of herself and continued on a little louder. "But I didn't want you to stop, so I kind of… forgot speech over the overwhelming feeling of having your touch on my back at all."

"You do make it very difficult for me to focus on the problem at hand when you say things like that."

His words brought a smile to Robin's face as it suddenly eradicated the nervousness, and she was only glad that he couldn't see it. "I'm sorry."

"You're not."

"True, I'm not." She couldn't help chuckling at her own half-hearted attempt to fool him, and even more at his trenchant ability to see right through her. "But I'll try to focus on the problem now instead of how amazing your hands feel on my skin."

"Robin…" He warned her quietly, but she could still hear the smirk in his voice, and that's when she couldn't help laughing.

"It's really not my fault!" She protested, and almost would've dropped her arms in a grand gesture if she hadn't remembered just why she was holding her dress in place in the very last second. This entire situation was as ridiculous as it was dangerous as it was wonderful. "You try focusing on anything beyond the tingles when your entire body is a goddamn wildfire!"

"I am trying right now, and you're not making it any easier. The sight of you alone is distracting enough."

"Just that little bit of skin is supposedly doing to you what your touch does to me? Sorry, but I sincerely doubt it."

"You shouldn't." He replied entirely seriously now, and the mere tone of his voice was enough to make Robin shiver again. "It does not take naked skin or fancy gowns for me to think of you as far more than simply ‘delectable’. You are nothing short of the most breathtaking creature I have ever been blessed to see, to stay with the trivial matter of physical appearance for once. But indeed, while I could not care less for others' looks and garments, you never fail to enchant me entirely with any of yours, and seeing as I have previously not had the opportunity to see quite so much of your skin, it does affect me quite strongly now at long last."

Robin's heart skipped a beat, then set into a steady gallop that made it delightfully hard to breathe. But for some reason, the words on her lips did not care for that at all. "You make it very difficult for me to focus on the problem at hand when you say things like that." She mirrored his statement, smiling to herself at the thought. "But do you actually mean it or are you just trying to get revenge on me by equal terms?"

"Both, obviously, but the latter is rather a lucky side effect of the former. And since we are discussing it already, you can call me blind if you will, but I do actually find your hair very attractive on any day, especially because it is a perfect mess." He answered easily, while his fingers continued to trace irregular patterns over the injured part of her back that seemed to hurt more and more by the minute. "Even though I very much appreciate the recent absence of the pineapple scent."

Robin found that she didn't mind the pain, especially not when his reference to her words from earlier this evening as well as the dreaded pineapple made her laugh, and the knowledge that he did, in fact, mean all of those things he'd said made her skin tingle pleasantly. He never made shallow compliments; when he deliberately said something nice for once, one could be sure that he meant it to the fullest.

"I think that might be among the loveliest things you have ever said to me." She smiled after a moment, when her soaring heart would let her speak up through the haze of emotions. "Directly said to me, that is. You say a lot of nice things when you don't mean to."

"Don't get used to it. What a crazy world would we be living in if I started saying nice things regularly now… It would entirely destroy the efficiency and purpose of my compliments." He scoffed in obvious sarcasm and tease, while placing his second hand on her shoulder to keep her in place for whatever he was doing.

"You're an idiot, Sev-..." Robin's words and laughter were cut off with a start when Snape placed his other hand directly on the hurting spot on her back, with quite a bit more pressure than before. It caused a pain far too strong for any measure to ripple through her every sense, and a well of tears to spring to her eyes in return. "Ouch! God damn and bloody hell…"

"I might be an idiot, but an idiot who can focus far better when we banter as usual. That seems to have become somewhat of a precondition for me to be able to work efficiently." He returned, then removed his hands from her entirely before he spoke on in a much more tainted tone. "I apologise for having to hurt you, but in order to undo the spell before it became even more dangerous, that unfortunately was inevitable. Now however, the pain should be gone once and for all in just a moment."

"Wait, you… you know what Morgan did to me and just… undid it like that?" Robin turned around to face him with a deep frown creasing her brows in an instant. "Is that what you were doing while we talked?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't bother telling me?! At least a little warning, perhaps?"

"I had the choice between distracting you by making you laugh and thereby forget about the pain I was unfortunately causing in the process, or to further said pain even more by talking about Morgan and his vile doings." He replied so easily that it made perfect sense now, that it appeared to be the most obvious solution ever. "As you see, it wasn't even a choice to be made."

"Thank you. That… was a really clever thing to do, actually." Robin sighed and gave him a soft smile, then took a moment to appreciate how the shadows of the flames danced across his skin before she spoke on. "So… no more pain for now?"

"Not as far as I can tell, at least."

"Let's find out for sure then, shall we?"

______________________________

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[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Request: Jango Fett x Jedi!Reader

Request by @sweeetteaa​: So have had this idea for a while now, but I suck at writing so hear me out: Jango Fett x reader, but the reader is a Jedi who goes to investigate Kamino with Obi-Wan and when she meets Jango - it’s love at first sight. And of course sassy Boba also loves her.

Jango Fett x reader

Word Count: 1825

Note: Obi-wan is on Kamino a LOT longer than he is in the movie because reasons

There were times when you thoroughly enjoyed your long-standing friendship with Obi-wan Kenobi. For example, any time he’d come to you ranting about whatever ridiculous situation Anakin had gotten them into; you almost always got a hearty laugh out of those instances.

This, however, was not one of those times.

Right now, you were rueing the day you’d decided to spar with this particular human because he’d dragged you along on his hunt for an apparently not-so-imaginary planet where you were currently getting an astoundingly confusing tour to show off an army of (admittedly quite attractive) clones made for the Republic.

You leveled your friend with a glare behind the tour guide's back and mouthed a harsh, “What the fuck?”

He just shrugged helplessly. His face smoothed back over into calm interest the instant the Kaminoan turned to glance at him. It never ceased to amaze you when he displayed that renowned ‘Negotiator’ facade.

Always one to be hands-on rather than to be lectured at, you spoke up, “You said they were highly trained for battle, yes?”

“Of course,” she replied breezily.

“Would it be possible for me to sit in on one of their drills? I’m somewhat of a tactician myself; I’d like to see how they perform in action. You and Obi-wan can keep viewing the process in the meantime.”

“Brilliant idea!” Obi-wan agreed, obviously seeing your plan of gathering more information.

The Kaminoan nodded. “Your timing is most convenient,” she informed you. “There is a simulation scheduled a few minutes from now. We have an overhead observation bay from which you can watch alongside their instructor.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

~

By the time you arrived, the simulation was already underway, and the clone that appeared to be the instructor judging from the under-armor blacks he was wearing barely spared you a glance while you were introduced. Not that you could blame his disinterest, his brothers down below were putting on quite the show. Still, you would like to glean at least a little information from the clones themselves about this place, and there needed to be a conversation happening for that so . . .

“Your sniper there needs to learn that his priority shouldn’t be the heavy troopers first.”

A handful of scars on the instructor’s face were exposed to you when he turned to smirk in your direction were surprising; you’d assumed such injuries would have been healed flawlessly in this facility. Apparently, that wasn’t the case. There was a curious rush of Force that rushed through you when he raised an amused eyebrow at you. “Oh? Who should he be focusing on then?”

“If he wants the rest of his team to survive, he’d target the stealth team making their way around the edges of the room.”

His brown eyes widened fractionally in mild surprise. “A Jetii that cares about the safety of soldiers? An unusual find. Who are you again?”

“Y/N. Another Jedi and I are here to check on the status of the army.” You made sure to make your voice wobble in a false tell.

One he seemed to buy based off the way that his smirk grew into a lopsided grin that made your heart inexplicably race. “You’re a terrible liar.”

You weren’t, but it played to your advantage to make him think you couldn’t lie for shit. Your Master, Mace Windu, had always encouraged your underhanded methods of gaining information even when the other Jedi frowned on them. ‘Use every advantage,’ he’d always say. The strange emotions that were racing around your mind because of this strange man, though, did concern you, but you shoved that to the side for later examination. You allowed a defeated-sounding sigh escape your lips as you let your body sag. “So I’ve been told.”

“So let me guess: something tipped you off about Kamino and you came looking?”

Well, he was certainly more intuitive than you would have guessed given that he was right and all. Not just a pretty face. “Busted.”

“So a tactician, piss-poor liar, and a curious adventurer. You are quite strange for a Jetii.”

“And you seem to think you know a lot about Jedi for someone who’s never left this planet.”

The second the words left your mouth, his dark eyes lit up, and you knew you’d made a mistake in your read of the man. It very abruptly all fell into place. He didn’t have those scars because of any fault in the healing here in the facility; he’d earned them in the field away from proper medical care. His knowledge wasn’t learned from some other instructor; it was learned first-hand. And his prejudice wasn’t taught institutionally; it was born from some darkness in his past.

“You’re not a clone, are you?”

“No, sweetheart, I’m the original.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his quiet chuckle, and you’d be damned if you didn’t crack a small smile yourself in response. Vow of attachments aside, you couldn’t help but already be fond of this strange man you’d just met. “So what’s your name then, Mr. Original?”

“Jango Fett.”

That name rang a bell or six. “The Mandalorian bounty hunter?” The one with the famous loathing of Jedi because they slaughtered his people?

“My reputation precedes me?”

“As well as your hatred for my kind, making you a curious choice for the progenitor of an army meant to work beside us to protect the Republic.”

“Money is money, sweetheart, and I’m learning that there might be a few Jetii that aren’t all bad.”

“A few?”

“Well . . . one or two . . . that I’d like to get to know better over a friendly dinner?”

“I suppose that could be arranged. We need to talk about how you’re training you snipers to be blind, anyway.”

~

As it turned out, dinner was in Jango’s apartment along with his clone/son Boba who you found out rather quickly you adored. The initial greeting had been rough, but he quickly warmed to you when you showed him the blaster you kept hidden within your robes for emergencies. He’d been telling some tale for the last few minutes about some trip he and his father had gone on, and his excitement was practically tangible.

“So anyways, Dad is busy trying to tie the guy up, and I spotted a no-good Jetii--”

“Boba!” his father interjected.

“What? It’s not like she’s a normal Jetii. She carries a blaster and agreed to go on a date with you.”

Your eyes widened dramatically, “This isn’t--”

“Son, this isn’t--” Jango cut himself off as the two of you talked over each other in your haste to deny the attraction you’d both been feeling all night.

“I’m a kid, Dad. I’m not stupid.”

“Boba--” This time you were cut off by a knock at the door.

The boy was already on his feet as he shouted, “I’ll get it!”

In the quiet that followed, Jango admitted, “He wasn’t wrong to assume that, you know.”

“I know,” you replied honestly, “but I took the vows, and we just met . . .”

“Dad! It’s for you!”

“Coming!” His eyes never left yours as he stood. “If you ever decide to leave that order of hypocrites . . .” The offer was clear.

“I know who to call,” you promised.

In the span of a single breath, you went from gazing at him longingly to being stunned still at the feeling of his lips on yours to staring at his retreating back in still-frozen surprise. And then everything devolved into a whirl of passive-aggressive accusatory comments, Obi-wan’s pitying gaze, and a chase that left you pondering, well, everything as you and your best friend chased the man that so easily swayed your mind away from your rigid vow of no attachments. 

“Obi-wan?” you called quietly over the comms that connected your two fighters. The two of you were tracking Jango’s ship, and you had a blackhole of anxiety gnawing its way through your stomach.

“I’m guessing this is something about that date I interrupted?”

“It wasn’t a date,” you argued automatically, but even you could hear how convincing you weren’t, “but yes.”

“It’s really getting to you that he is our assassin, isn’t it?” Your silence spoke libraries about your answer. “I’m sorry, darling.” Surprisingly, he didn’t kick into a lecture about the Code like he would have with Anakin, which you greatly appreciated. 

“Do you remember the old myths about the Force?”

“I suppose you have a specific one in mind?”

“The one about how everyone has someone out there connected to them by the Force.”

There was a heavy pause. “Do you believe this Jango Fett is your soulmate, Y/N?” Ever straight to the point was the renowned Obi-wan Kenobi.

You bit your lip, trying to fight back the tears that were currently making your eyes sting. That myth was the only way you could explain the feelings you had when looking at Jango, the way the Force seemed to dance between the two of you when he kissed you. “Yes.”

This time it was Obi-wan’s silence that was telling. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

~

After everyone was onboard a ship that was flying away from Geonosis, you locked yourself in your room with only Obi-wan allowed to enter so you could mourn in peace. All at once the galaxy was at war, your soulmate (for that’s what he must have been for you to have been brought to your knees by his death the second his head was severed even though you were too far to have seen it with your own eyes) was dead, and you were surrounded by his clones like they were living ghosts. You were a wreck, to put it mildly, and you could not let Anakin see you like this and get it into his head that such attachments were acceptable even if this was a special circumstance.

Already, you’d been weeping for hours while collapsed in the middle of the floor. And that was precisely the position Obi-wan found you when he finally returned from giving his report to the Council. In an instant, you were swept into a tight hug.

“Is there anything I can do?”

You shook your head minutely. “I can’t do this, Obi,” your voice shook. “I can’t fight with his ghosts by my side only to watch them die under my command in a war that no one wants.”

“You have my support no matter what you choose,” he promised quietly, “as long as you keep in touch.”

A shaky breath left your lips as some of the tension left your body. You hadn’t realized it, but part of you had been terrified that you would lose your best friend in this chaos. “Thank you.”

“What will you do?”

“Boba was there.”

“The little clone?”

“His son . . . sort of. He’s just a child that lost his father. I can’t just leave him.”

“I’d expect nothing less from you.”

[eat0crow]

Jasonette Prompt! Mari and Jason first meeting but it’s after a bunch of thugs tried to jump her (she beat them uppp). anyways they’re both in civilian form and she’s validly untrusting and he calms her down.

Bullies count as thugs, right?

116%

Partly by accident, mostly by self-preservation, Jason figures out that, in order to get everyone to stop looking at him like the poor-orphan-charity-case Bruce Wayne had taken in, he needs to instead get them to write him off entirely.

It’s a genius plan. Gotham Academy is nothing if not judgemental. All he has to do is wear his uniform loose, his tie undone, tell everyone exactly how little he thinks of their petty power plays, and get into a screaming match with his xenophobic history teacher about how people working minimum wage, “Absolutely should be making a living wage. Screw you, you bootlicking capitalist fuck!” within the first month of school. Honestly, he’s surprised he lasted that long.

So maybe he’s a little out of line, it’s not like he’s wrong. And it’s all worth it just to see the look on Bruce’s face when he walks into the principal's office. The man’s eyebrows are practically up to his hairline by the time he hears that Jason, in the face of his teacher's warning, had the audacity to ask, “What are you going to do? Expel me? unfucking likely.”

“It’s not like I’m actually going to be expelled,” Jason says. “Half the school’s annual budget comes from the money you donate. If I’m expelled I’ll have to go somewhere else. You’re not going to invest in a school I’m not attending and they’re not going to those funds.”

With unmasked glee, Jason watches the growing horror spread over his principles face-he’s a smart brown-nosing man after all. He knows exactly what kind of trap he’s walking into. It doesn’t matter that Jason’s history teacher is glaring the man down, looking like he's’ just bitten a lemon. Nope, Jason is not going to be expelled.

“Jason,” Bruce, simply sighs, looking far more put out than he has any right to be.

They settle for him being suspended for the rest of the week with detentions taking place after school on Mondays and Wednesdays for the next two months.

As all interesting gossip tends to, the rumor makes its way through the school before the day is even over-rich kids have way too much time on their hands-by the time Jason comes back the following Monday everyone seems to have decided that he’s a troublemaker unhinged just enough to be dangerous.

It marks the end of people trying to suck up to him, they all seem to have collectively decided that if they mind their own business and leave him out of it, he’ll do the same.

The thing about Jason Todd- fourteen-year-old high school freshman- is that he’s really bad at minding his own business. Like Dick’s Discowling suit levels of bad at it. He's a Robin, after all, you couldn’t be a Robin if you were actually able to keep your nose out of where it shouldn't be. It's practically a rule.

Never once has Jason ever had any fondness for bullies, it doesn’t matter if they were school kids or criminals or one percenters-looking at you Jeff Bezos, looking at you. He’s seen enough of them growing up in the Narrows, and maybe, it’s because his dad, the utter asshole, had been a bully. Maybe he just spends too much time fighting against people who think they can get away with pushing their weight around. It doesn’t matter.

Jason Todd could not bring himself to turn a blind eye, which is why by the beginning of his second semester he’s gained the title of actual-punk-you-know-the-kind-who-fight-the-man with his biweekly detentions being upgraded to triweekly and extended indefinitely. The number of fights he’s gotten into in the last couple of months has easily erased whatever Golden Boy standing Dick had established. Jason is confident that the only reason he’s yet to be kicked out is the fact that Bruce had almost doubled his donations.

So really, when he hears raised voices and the distinct sound of someone being thrown against a wall just as he’s leaving detention for the third time this week, he has to investigate.

Disgust is the first thing Jason can register when he turns the corner because there’s a ring of five students- two girls, three guys- all crowded around the new girl from France. Jason’s pretty sure he shares a class or two with her, maybe. She's easy to miss, small as all hell and stick thin.

This, this isn’t a fair fight. Or a fight she even has a chance of winning. Jason has a bad feeling about this.

But-

But Jason takes a closer look. Her back is pressed against the side of the building, yes. Her bag has been thrown to the ground and she’s shaking but that stance, it definitely doesn’t belong to someone who doesn’t know how to defend themselves. Sure these idiots have her backed into a corner, one point them, but her feet are firmly planted on the ground, her back is straight. She’s not going to run, at least, not before she throws a punch and, judging from the way she’s holding herself, a good one too.

Jason doesn’t really know how to approach this. This girl looks like a deer caught in headlights who will spook the second she hears a loud sound. Getting a teacher would be the most sensible thing to do. It would also require leaving, Jason isn’t confident enough in the situation to do that.

He’s almost talked himself into it, sure it might be a little off-brand for him but this seems slightly out of his depth, when Idiot Number Three, the smirking brunette addition, makes a move toward Marinette-Jason only just remembers her name-and Marinette lashes out.

Dead silence overtakes the yard as the girl goes down, her body crumpling to the ground like a wet paper towel. Marinette’s fist is still curled, her arm still outstretched. She looks like she can’t believe what she just did. Everyone stands frozen for one disbelieving moment before one of the guy's snarls, lunging to grab Marinette’s jacket.

If she was a deer in headlights before, Jason isn’t quite sure what to call her now. She looks like she’s on the cusp of a panic attack, frantically babbling a mishmash of jumbled up words. Jason sees what she’s going to do a second before the bully does, but by then it’s too late.

Marinette, with way more force than someone her size should have, brings her knee up and kicks her would-be attacker in the balls. Jason does not want to feel sympathy pains. He doesn’t, but still, if the way Idiot Number Five falls to his knees is any indication...well.

Idiots Numbered One, Two and Four run off without much fanfare taking their downed Idiot Number Three with them. Jason has a distinct impression they’re going to snitch and Marinette, who was only defending herself and is in no way capable of explaining her side of the story right now, is going to be in a hell of a lot of trouble.

Nope, not on Jason’s watch. He makes his way over. Closing the distance in three precise non-threatening strides. “So I’m thinking, this isn’t exactly what you had planned,” he says lightly.

“Fuck you, Todd.” Eloquent as ever Idiot Number Five.

“No thanks. You seem like you’re having enough fun clutching your balls for the both of us,” he says cooly, crouching down just enough to make eye contact. “Between you and me, I would run if I were you. Before she decides to come and knock your teeth in.”

“Like she would,” the bully scoffs.

“We both know she could and you know I would let her. Hell, I would help her if it kept your mouth fucking shut.” Jason cracks his knuckles, casually pressing his elbow further into the prick's collar bone. “Fuck, I kinda want to do it too. You really piss me off.”

At least he has the good sense to take Jason seriously. Jason can’t help the satisfaction that comes from watching him get to his feet and limp off. Some things really are poetic. Serves the bastard right, even if he promises that, “I’ll get you back for this, Todd.”

Jason snorts, as if he’d worry about what some schoolyard bully was going to do. Have you seen half the lunatics he fights on a monthly basis? “You good?”

“I-no!” Marinette cries, sinking to her knees in shock. “I am so going to be expelled. God, I’m going to be deported. I’ve only been in Gotham for a month! One whole month and already I’ve

messed this up. Momma is never going to let me out of the house. That’s if they don’t send me to jail. Oh, they’re going to send me to jail, aren't they? I can’t go to jail, orange is a terrible color!”

That's ... a lot to unpack. Jason feels something flutter in his chest. He has the strongest desire to comfort her. So, he does the only thing he can think of, he reaches out, wraps his arms around her waist, and promptly gets punched in the face. Hard.

He staggers back, clutching his eye, Jason barely registers Marinette’s steady stream of. “I’m sorry, so sorry I didn’t mean to hit you.”

Self-consciously Jason shrugs, he’s had far worse. The only thing in danger is his ego. “It was my fault. You were literally being threatened a minute ago, I shouldn’t have touched you. Sorry about that.”

“I’m panicking a bit,” Marinette says, pulling at the end of one of her pigtails. “I’m not usually...I just-I don’t want to be expelled.”

“You're not going to be expelled, Hermione,” Jason says dryly. “Yeah, those bastards are going to snitch but you were just defending yourself. They got what they deserved.”

“Do you think anyone’s going to believe that?”

Jason takes a moment to look Marinette over. There is so much earnest hope on her face that Jason...he feels really bad but... “Of course not. You kicked Pattrick Thomson in the balls, his dad’s on the school board. There is no fucking way any one of these teachers is going to believe that he actually got what was coming to him. No matter how much of a prick he is.”

“I’m doomed,” Marinette cries.

“You’re not doomed.” Jason catches Marinette’s look of pure utter disbelief and continues, “You’re not going to be expelled because you’re not the one who is going to be taking the fall for this.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly,” Jason says scooting down to sit next to Marinette. He makes sure to leave a good foot between them. One black eye is enough, thank you. “Unlike you, I won’t get expelled, trust me this isn’t anywhere close to my first fight. If they could have axed me, they would have like a month in. The good news is that this is the one corner of the school security cameras can’t see. So as long as we make our story sound believable, no one is going to question it.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re all going to find it sketchy when no one can agree on who threw the punch.”

“See you would think that but, no offense, you’re a literal wafer cookie. A strong breeze could blow you over. No one is going to believe you took down those idiots. Not when it’s so much easier to blame the one who’s admitting it.”

“I did take them down,” Marinette says, narrowing her eyes.

“And it was badass, but for this to work, we need to milk as many of their sexist assumptions as possible. So,” Jason starts, pressing his hand a little further against his eye, there’s a bit of blood slipping onto his fingers. Marinette got him good. “This is what we’re going to say. We’re going to keep it simple. Tell them that those guys were picking on you and I came over to see what was happening. Things got heated, Thomson punched me in the eye and I bumped into what’s-her-face. You were panicking and didn’t really pay attention until you saw me knee him in the balls. Short, sweet, and believable.”

“What are we going to say when they ask about why everyone is blaming me and not you?”

“Well, why were they bothering you in the first place.” Jason shrugs reaching out to grab some of the stray papers that had fallen from Marinette’s bag. “Just use that. Trust me, Thomson’s going to jump at the chance to save face. Once he changes his story the rest will follow.”

Marinette grimaces. “It feels wrong.”

“Please,” Jason snorts. “They’re rich, they’re cheating at life. They’d get away with murder if they dropped their wallets. You could tell them all exactly what happened word for word and the teachers would still only hear their side of the story.”

“That’s awful.”

“That’s Gotham.”

Marinette falters, as if she wants to dispute the inherent corruption of this city. She stares at Jason, who would probably be blushing if it wasn’t for the excruciating pain coming from his right eye.

“You’re sure.” Marinette bites her lip, nervously picking at her nails. “You’re absolute, one hundred and twelve percent sure you won’t be expelled.”

“I’m one hundred and sixteen percent sure,” Jason says and then Marinette smiles.

It’s a nice smile, Jason doesn’t think he’s ever experienced the full force of someone's relief before.

“Thank you.” Sincerity is dripping off every word, so much so it almost aches. “I-you’re really nice Jason.”

Marinette knows his name. That’s-not necessarily surprising given the act that yeah they do share classes, probably. It’s just this is the first time they’ve talked.

“It’s cool,” Jason says leaning further back into the wall. He can hear people coming, it won’t be long before they have teachers to deal with. Jason might as well get comfortable. “You’re Marinette, right? I think we have English….Math..something together.”

Marinette nods, scooting closer to him. “Yeah, I’m Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I sit three rows over in Math and two seats up in English.”

“It’s nice to meet you Marinette. Officially.” Jason takes the hand off of his eye and holds it out to her. “Jason Todd.”

Slowly, Marinette’s smile slowly morphs into a look of pure horror. “You’re eye!”

[james-potters-animagus]

all i want

draco malfoy

angst warning

based on the song ‘all i want’ by kodaline. it’s gonna be sad y’all don’t @ me.

all i want is nothing more than to hear you knocking at my door and if i could see your face once more, i’d die a happy man i’m sure

it had been a good four years since the war. it was devastating to say the least. you had been a part of dumbledor’s army and were best friends with harry. you had met when harry had moved to privet drive to live with his aunt and uncle. believe it or not, there was another wizard in that neighborhood. you officially met on the train over, you both recognized each other and sat together, with ronald and hermione.

you and harry had gained a special connection, and began dating in your fourth year. little did you know, a stuck up slytherin would be the cause of that breakup.

you and harry dated up until your sixth year when voldemort’s return was confirmed. of course, that wasn’t the main contender of your breakup, but that seemed to be the easiest thing to pin it on at the time. what had really caused your breakup was a certain platinum blond had gained feelings for you, and wasn’t going to let potter get in the way of his chances with you.

“y/l/n! we need to talk,” draco suddenly yelled, from across the courtyard. you shook your head at the stubborn boy, who wouldn’t even go near the chosen one, or his companions, to talk to you. you sighed, but continued on towards him.

“what is it draco,” you muttered, trying to show him you weren’t pleased with the stunt he had just pulled.

“i like you.” he said, blunt and clear.

“i’m sorry, i don’t return the feelings. i have a boyfriend. your arch enemy to be exact.” you responded, fiddling with your shirt cuffs. draco looked at you like you had threw grown a third head.

“but i thought you did? you always talk to me? when girls talk to me it’s because they’re interested in me. you aren’t interested in me?” draco admitted, his heart dropping a bit.

you could see the pain in his eyes, and suddenly felt bad for the privellaged slytherin. “no! i mean, i’m interested in you, as a, as a person, but not uh, not romantically,” you tried to salvage the little friendship you two shared as draco just looked up at you from his hole he had burned in the ground, waiting for your response.

“oh.” was all he responded as he gave you a small, soft smile and he walked off. you felt terrible. you knew ronald would be high-fiving you right now if he were here, but you couldn’t help but feel sad for the boy.

now, you and harry had broken up, you just didn’t feel romantically inclined to each other anymore. as a sixteen year old who felt she was in love, that didn’t make sense to you at the time, but as you grew up, as you matured, it made much more sense to you. as yours and harry’s relationship crumbled, yours and dracos relationship blossomed. draco hadn’t stopped pining after you, and you finally decided to go on a date with him. and one date turned into two, and then three, and then four, and eventually you began dating. you honestly had the time of your life. and then the second wizarding war hit. draco and his death eater family began sorting out their issues and he decided it would be best to push you away.

of course, you were not going to let this slide. that was until voldemort cursed you. as the cruciatus curse rang out through your body you heard draco scream out. after the pain had stopped and everyone had left he came rushing to you.

when it said your last goodbye, i died a little bit inside

“y/n! y/n? hey, hey, okay, i’m going to get you out of here and you’re going to go as far away from here as you can, alright?” he cooed, picking you up and appartaing you both out of the dementor play ground.

that was years ago now, it was 2002 and you hadn’t spoken to, or seen draco for four years. yet, you remember that day vividly. of course, the nightmares helped you to not forget that, though they weren’t pleasant memories. what you would give to see him again.

i lay in tears in bed all night, alone, without you by my side

you jolted awake, a cold sweat taking over your entire body. you just had one of your routine, vivid nightmares about that horrible day. this time though, it was different. draco hadn’t left you. he stayed with you, the entire time. it was almost worse than the normal ones, waking up, knowing that it didn’t happen. you didn’t even know what happened to draco, or the entire malfoy family for that matter. you occasionally read the daily prophet, or you heard about some things from harry, but that was about it.

you had missed draco terribly. you missed seeing his face, hearing his voice, feeling his touch. you missed everything about him. you looked over to the nightstand and saw the necklace he had given you still there. you didn’t dare move it, afraid to lose it. it was all you had left of your relationship with the boy.

but if you loved me, why’d you leave me? take my body, take my body

all i want is, and all i need is, to find somebody, i’ll find somebody

you pondered why draco hadn’t tried to reach out to you after the war. of course, it could have been things with the death eaters but you remember harry telling you he had killed voldemort. they had won the battle. why hadn’t he tried to talk to you anymore? did he not care for you anymore?

you had tried seeing other people, you met this amazing muggle guy once, he had striking blue eyes and soft brown hair, but you didn’t feel the same spark like you did with harry or draco. since then you hadn’t really tried with dating.

see you brought out the best of me, a part of me i’ve never seen

it seemed when you were with draco you were the best version of yourself. you felt on top of the world when you were with him. there wasn’t anything you couldn’t do.

you took my soul, and wiped it clean, our love was made for movie screens

anyone with eyes could see how well you two worked with each other. the way her eyes lit up when she saw him, the way he stopped making fun of kids as much because he knew it bothered her. the way he stopped bullying muggleborns because her best friend was a muggleborn. they made eachother better.

honestly their relationship seemed perfect. almost too perfect.

but if you loved me, why’d you leave me?

you were sat on your couch in the living room after quite a day teaching at ilvermony. out of no where draco appeared in your fireplace, covered in floo powder. “draco?” you shot up, staring at the boy, well, man now. he was dressed in a black dress shirt with a pair of dark jeans and dress shoes, his grey eyes popping against the dark material of his shirt.

he smiled hesitantly at you, dusting himself off before stepping out into the living space. “hi y/n. it’s been a while.” you scoffed lightly. of course you missed him dearly, but he hadn’t tried to reconnect with you for four years! what could he possibly want now that you were moved to america, and almost over him.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest. he expected a bit of a more happy reaction, but he couldn’t be that surprised, he knew he messed up that day.

“i’m sorry. i came to apologize and hopefully win you back. i- i know i messed up, i know i didn’t- i didn’t give you a proper goodbye and i’m so sorry. but i still love you. i’m still deeply, deeply in love with you. there wasn’t a passing day when i didn’t think about you. i’ll explain why and what happened if you’ll give me another chance.” he concluded, reaching out to touch your arm, his attempt at being affectionate.

you looked at him, wondering if, maybe you should give him another chance. or at the very least let him explain himself. you smiled very lightly, thinking back to your past memories. “fine. one chance.”

he smiled brightly at you, as you ushered him to sit on the sofa next to you. you looked up at him expectantly as he gathered his thoughts. he really didn’t think he was going to get this far.

“well, when i brought you out of that bloody mansion, i brought you to ronald weasley. i thought for sure he would know what to do. and he did, obviously, you’re okay now. and then after i made sure you were okay i went back to find my mother and we left.” he let out a shaky breath, but continued. “but there were still so many things happening with my father being put in trial that none of us could reach out via letters, and then i found out you left to america, and i thought you did that to get away from me, so i left you alone. and then for some reason i decided i needed to see you. so, here i am.”

you nodded lightly, understanding his reasonings for the most part.

“would you just give me another chance? i found this amazing muggle coffee shop down here, i figured maybe we could start over. like a second first date.” he suggested as she nodded with a light smile.

“i’d like that. a second first date.”

[brucewaynehastoomanykids]

Forced Marriage

Requested by Wattpad user principepena

This kinda goes in ties with my 'Damirae Week Day 5: Soulmates' chapter. (You can go back and read it if you forgot :)) It's the same sort of universe, but it's a bit of an alternative story to that.

_____________________________________

"Curse this day." I mumbled to myself.

I have always had a bad feeling about my father joining in alliance with the Al Ghul's. Ra's al Ghul was a snake to everyone he came across, who's to say his daughter, the current leader, would be any different? I suppose that's why they made the agreement they did, to show there was 'no harm, no foul,' but I personally don't buy it for a second, and I can only pray that father doesn't either. Truth be told, I have my suspicions that the only reason Talia al Ghul wants me to marry her son is to either use me against my own father or keep me prisoner strictly for the purposes of continuing the bloodline should she pass and her son rule. And the kicker of all of this? Her grandchildren would have the blood of Trigon the Terrible inside of them, as well as the now fallen Ra's. I must say, my children would be a true legacy.

I stare out onto the world. From Hell, the world above seems so small and meaningless, never really knowing it's purpose in this universe. Hell and Azarath, we both have... or should I say, had a purpose. Slaying down Azarath in the name of Trigon was the best decision I never made in my youth. It gained me the respect I deserved. And now, I lay in wait for that respect to be taken from me and be thrown into that confusing world to marry a spoiled brat.

I sigh. "I should sleep while I can," I told myself, "If I wait for tomorrow, tomorrow is coming. If I don't wait for tomorrow, tomorrow is still coming."

Though sleep was most definitely not an option. I ended up spending the night hours wondering and worrying about my future, and for my father. What if he was in danger by this? What if the League of Assassins just wanted him out of the way? Questions like this continued to make there way into my mind and before I knew it, it was daybreak, and I was to be married to a stranger in a few short hours.

~

There was no ceremony, no vows, or family visits as you'd see in traditional weddings. It was just me, my husband, and his mother in a room. She told us both to sign some papers and to exchange rings and, boom, we were married.

My husband, who I had just learned to be called Damian, was a very peculiar character. He didn't speak a word through the process of marriage and kept his stunning emerald eyes away from me. It was as if this poor boy was entranced to do this sort of thing by nature like he had practiced over and over again. Part of me wondered if he was doing this completely unaware of his surroundings.

That night, I had overheard him arguing with his mother. He, too, apparently didn't want this wedding as much as I had. He told her how it was a 'horrendous decision on her part' and that 'he alone was powerful enough to lead the League without the assistance of a partner'.

Once he had seen I was eavesdropping. He glared, looked me up and down and scoffed without saying a word.

"Look, I know this situation is... unwanted, for either of us, and I know we don't know each other well, but I'm still worried about you despite this. No one deserves to keep so much anger locked away." I told him, calmly.

He almost instantly stopped in his tracks and faced me. "Don't worry so much if you know what's good for you. I'll end up breaking that little empathetic heart of yours in two if you do." And with that, he walked away again.

"It's bold of you to assume my life hasn't already torn it to shreds..." I mumbled, mostly to myself.

~

Months have past sense. And while Damian and I are still tense, we at least talk to one another. We came to realize we had a lot of similar interests, such as literature and spirituality. I've found that, when he wants to be, Damian is a very kind person, but there is so much rage bottled inside of him that blocks that kindness, a rage that he takes out on anything and anyone in sight, even me. Even his mother.

And speaking of parental figures, I hadn't heard news of my father since my wedding. Though father is an all-powerful demon, the conqueror of worlds, and just all-around god material, I'm starting to grow worried for him, if I'm honest. I kept thinking to myself if what I had feared most were true, that the League of Assassins only wanted me to get my father out of the way, and if that's the case... may God spare Talia and Damian al Ghul from my wrath. I need answers. I need them now.

That night I decided to sneak away from Damian and wonder the palace looking for those said answers. I climbed out of bed and sipped on my cloak.

"It's too late for you to be out by yourself, you know..." Damian said, rolling his body over to face me at the door, "you could get in trouble of you stumble into the wrong area."

I scoffed, glaring at him slightly. "Oh spare me! Please stop pretending you care about me when I know you don't."

"And what exactly gives you that notion?" He cocked a brow.

"Well, for one, it took you weeks just to even hold a conversation with me that wasn't about how much you hate the marriage, which leads me to my other point: you absolutely despise being married to me and you know it."

"Actually, I quite enjoy your company. I'm just... shall we say, not good at this sort of thing? I've never had any friends let alone a wife. Honestly, I'm still trying to figure out how to speak to you properly as well as how to act. But you shouldn't use that to question if I care for you, because I do."

"Right... well..." I was a bit lost for words, honestly. Then, I remembered my father, and why I needed to leave, "I really do have to go, Damian." I walked out before he could question anything.

~

It was always so easy to get lost in this place without a proper guide, then again, I wasn't exactly going to just ask someone to accompany me while I go into Talia's room search through her belongings. I knew Talia wasn't going to be in her room for some time. A sort of 'business meeting' as she called it with an unknown allied group.

Eventually, I had found what I was looking for, the alliance agreement my father had signed upon. It was shocked at its contents.

"By signing this document, I uphold the agreement(s) stated today as they are as followed: no harm is done to Trigon the Terrible or his daughter, Rachel Roth, no harm done to the al Ghul family or the League of Assassins as a whole, fair usage of both sides with food, shelter, weapons, soldiers, and war should it come, and the marriage of Rachel Roth and Damian al Ghul as a token of solidarity to this contract. Know if one party is to break one of these agreements, punishment will be seen and decided at the ruler level (ie. Trigon, Rachel, Talia, and/or Damian).

Signed: Trigon the Terrible and Talia al Ghul"

"Alright... so perhaps this wasn't as bad as I--" it was then I saw another document. It was one I recognized, for it was my marriage document. I remembered Talia had covered the wording with her hand as she signed it. She didn't want us to read its contents.

I picked up the paper and began scanning over the words. Then, my heart sunk.

"By signing this document, the foreign bride/groom relinquishes all holding power to his/her old home/life. This includes monarch, subjects, and family, and must follow the same rules as the other rulers present. This includes, never leaving the palace walls unless it is needed, or until they are ordered to by a higher ruler, and should always be accompanied by soldiers when doing so to both ensure safety, and to ensure the mission is completed without the ruler going astray."

"So in other words... I'm trapped here... and the reason I'm not hearing from father is because... because I'm not allowed to be in contact with him, now that I'm an... an al Ghul." It was taking every bone in my body to not burst into tears right then and there. "No, if I am to cry... it can't be here. Talia could walk in any minute now." I quickly put the documents back in their places and hurry off to my room.

~

Damian was already waiting for me when I arrived. I kept my hood up so he couldn't see the sadness on my face.

"It's almost 3 in the morning! Where the hell were you?" He demanded, his arms crossed.

I was silent for a moment before responding. "I am never going to see my father again... this marriage has stripped him from my life, as well as my home... my father, he... he may not have been the best of fathers, but I loved him... he understood me--the real me. The me I never allowed my mother to see."

Damian raised a brow. "I fail to understand why any of this news should make a difference to me."

I looked up at him, stunned and wide-eyed before glaring, sneering, "I swear you have about as much compassion as a rock."

It was only when I heard Damian ask why I was crying had I noticed the warm fluid on my cheeks.

"I-it's none of your business." I said rather quickly, stepping away from him.

He grabbed my arm and forced me to look at him. "It's my business if you're crying because of me." This only caused the tears to spill more. His eyes softened, filling with what seemed to be worry. "No, no, I'm sorry--it's alright, come here." He said gently, pulling me into a hug.

I was stunned at first but soon gave in to the hug. "Why?" I asked. "Why are you being so... nice to me so sudden? I just don't understand."

"Does your father mean a lot to you?" He asked, ignoring my question.

I was quiet again before responding, "Yes... as I told you, he was the first to ever understand me for who I am: a demon. My mother, Arella... bless her. She tried her best to control that side of me... but it ended in her demise. I killed her and all of Azarath in the name of my father, so I could be with someone who got me. I love my father more than I could love anyone else."

"I understand," Damian sighed, "that's how I feel towards my mother. She can be... hard on me, and we may argue over her decisions from time to time, but she's still my mother, and I love her dearly. As for my father... I don't know him. I don't even know his name. I just know that he's 'a great warrior' according to both my grandfather and mother..." Damian let got of me, letting his hands rest on my shoulders as he smiled, "Rachel, I've been thinking. Since you're my wife now... it should only be fair we know each other better. I know I haven't been the kindest to you these past few months, but like your father to you... you really seem to understand me. But..." his smile dropped, "all I really know about you is your heritage and, well, your sarcastic nature. So... begin sharing? It could rid your mind of negative thoughts for a moment."

"Oh, okay," I said, a bit thrown off, "well, if I'm honest, I may come off as very shy and quiet, but I do have a fun and, dare I say, goofy side. I can be clumsy, and laugh at the most random of things... and I kinda like that feeling. It makes me feel... young. But, what about you? All I really know about you is that you're a bit of a brat with anger management problems." I laughed.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Well, actually, I'm not as stone-cold as you seem to think, Rachel," he playfully glared, "I have emotions too, you know."

We both shared a laugh then. It was the first time in a while I had genuinely laughed, and the first time I had heard Damian laugh at all. We spent the remainder of the night getting to know each other. Of course, we had already known of our common interests, but now, it seemed we were closer than we ever had been before.

As the sun began to rise, our bodies laid side by side on opposite ends. Our feet away from each other, and our heads close. It was quiet and peaceful.

"You know... we are so different... yet so similar in such confusing ways." I said, breaking the silence.

He only hummed in agreement before closing his eyes. "Rachel?"

"Yes?"

"Do you mind if I make a promise to you?"

"And what promise would that be?"

"To reunite you with your father as soon as possible."

I turned to look at him, surprised. "And break the rules? Why would you do that?"

His eyes opened slowly as he gave me a tired, but genuine smile. "Because, I haven't told you yet, because I didn't know the feeling before now but... I think I might be falling in love with you."

A small wave of heat rushed to my face as I smiled at him. "You know... I think I'm falling in love with you too, surprisingly."

He didn't respond.

"Damian?" Then, I noticed his breathing got heavy, his mouth slightly ajar. "Oh..." I whispered. "Goodnight then... love."

[wwwafflewrites]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Possible trigger? Ish?

Note: I mostly wrote this because I've been feeling sore as hell from sports and I wanted to see if I could replicate that feeling here in an angsty way.

Basically she misinterprets the Winchesters hesitation for her not being good enough to hunt, rather than their worry and fear after having lost so much family. And she resorts to unhealthy means of weightloss and exercise. There's nothing graphic though.

///

Hunting has never, in the history of ever, been a skill that came along easy. To anyone. The unforgiving profession took years of work, practice, and patience to master it. Not only that, but it took research and last minute problem solving. Every hunter needed to be downright perfect if they ever expected to make it in this life.

So when you told the boys you were going to become a hunter, you didn't understand why they hesitated. Dean outright scoffed, as if the notion was ridiculous; you'd be lying if you had said that didn't hurt. Sam was a little less blunt about his reaction, but the way he bit his lip told you he was dubious. Did they have that little faith in you? You really didn't see the problem. You had worked with them for years as the research girl, gathering information and piecing each case together when the Winchesters didn't have the time to. It only made sense that you would qualify as hunter material. People, ordinary people, became hunters all the time! What made you so unqualified?

Somewhere in the cavities of your mind, a small voice whispered because the hunters that rose from nothing often had nothing to lose, and they couldn't care less if they died on their first hunt or if they succeeded in their endless quest for revenge. That's why you were different; you have a family, and it would kill them if you left them. They've already lost so much.

Sam approached you, hesitant still, as if he wasn't sure what to say quite yet. He took a breath, took a moment to gage your expression, and then sighed. "You're sure? Absolutely sure you want this?"

"I'm sure."

The Winchesters respected you. You weren't a child; if you told them you wanted something, you reserved the right to have it. However, that didn't make this less excruciating for them. In their eyes, they were letting you put a target on your back.

They didn't object to your proposal though. Instead of talking you down from your idea, they worked with you. The bunker had a gym, complete with a target range and a ranging supply of equipment. They certainly didn't sugar coat it for you. Sam told you about crushed dreams, and Dean told spoke of old friends and their partings. They made clear that you understood that this job would literally haunt you for the rest of your life. As you sweat, they reminded you that you were preparing for the lifetime of war and pain that would soon be your own. It was a heavy weight to carry, and an even bigger commitment.

From this, you imagined they were trying to scare you. Of course, they weren't lying about anything, but in the way that they said it to you, like they were stuffing your mind of ideas like newspaper to a kindling, made you think they were convincing you to give it up. They were trying their best to protect you with fear, to have you become a scared little girl who is afraid of the monster under her bed so they could fight it for you like they always have.

But you didn't scare easily.

The workout was intense. There were very few pauses or breaks, because on a hunt there was no such thing. Once you had completed a set of workouts, they had you do another. They did it alongside you, letting you see how much you had to catch up with. Sam and Dean were both six feet of toned muscle and calluses. 

After three hours, you had completed all the workouts thrown at you. You were drenched in sweat, and every muscle you had was aching and smarting. You finally stood, expecting this to be the end.

Dean nodded to you. "Go get a drink. We're going to spar next."

You stared at him a little, processing this. Sparring. That meant hand-to-hand tactics and conditioning. That meant wrestling. That implied more hours before this was over. You wanted to protest, but you held your tongue. It was never over; that was the lesson they were giving you, and you could either complain about it or suck it up, because this was your choice.

You pushed down your growing disappointment and masked it with an indifferent one. You were certain it didn't fool the boys, though.

You were careful not to drink too much, but enough so your lips weren't as dry and your aching throat was soothed. And then you returned, Dean was wrapping bandages around his knuckles, and motioned for you to do likewise.

You weren't going to lie, that scared you a little. Dean was a strong guy, and you weren't sure how rusty you were. Or how good you could duck.

But the hunter seemed to know what you were thinking. Your eyes met, he analyzed them, and he chuckled. "Don't worry, these aren't for you. We're using the punching bags first to get you warmed up."

You held back your retort, which was just a smart comment about being 'warmed up'. You were practically on fire. But it wouldn't get you anywhere complaining. You took the bandages, observed Dean's fluid wrapping motions, and mirrored them in silence.

You were exhausted, but you still followed Dean to the punching back with your head held high, feeling stubborn. Your muscles were starting to retaliate, begging for the work to end, but you pushed on, ignoring the shakiness in your legs as you followed Dean and the ache in your shoulders as you raised your fists to the red enemy—the punching bag. You pummeled it with all your lasting might, determined to show Dean you would not be deterred by a little sweat.

His hands reached to guide your motions, coming behind you to correct what he felt was unnecessary in your throws. "You like to drop your right hand during the left hook. Keep it lifted, or you'll leave yourself exposed." He showed you an example, and you just marveled at how he was still at his prime.

Punching the bag required coordination that you lacked. You could punch fine, but your muscles were protesting and twitching when you pulled back. You were slow, and Dean made sure to tell you. You knew he was trying to discourage you, to get you to quit on your own. But you were a stubborn one, as they liked to say.

Once Dean seemed satisfied by your form, you both went to the mat, which was clearly set up for a spar. It was unfair—Dean was hardly breaking a sweat, and you felt ready to break apart. Another lesson, you realized. Hunting wasn't fair.

You narrowed your eyes, bracing yourself to fight. Your heart was thrumming, and every limb was shaky in pain and adrenaline. But your eyes were strong, and you made sure that Dean knew it.

You weren't great, by any means. Dean was a professional, and you were no match against him like this. However, you managed to hold some ground, and retain what they had taught you, regardless of how sloppy it may be.

After who knows how long, Dean finally called it quits. You were panting with adrenaline and feeling rather lightheaded. And you both needed to eat and shower. 

"Good job, kid," Dean made sure to say to you.

You smiled. Dean was impressed.

You both cooled down a bit, then exited the room that would likely rule your dreams for a while. Every muscle was sore; even your eyelids were heavy.

When you reached your room, you allowed yourself the slump your shoulders some. You honestly felt terrible and tired. Everything hurt. You sucked in a breath as your calves painfully tightened into a knot. You were temporarily paralyzed, grabbing your leg and gritting your teeth. This was going to suck.

You limped to your bed with a gasp, and let out a muffled cry into your pillow. The bed was cold against your nearly feverish self, and you soaked it in. You were acutely aware that it was only somewhere around six o'clock (as that was the only digit you had registered), and that the Winchesters would probably search for you to eat dinner with them, but you were already falling into a deep sleep.

///

The morning was worse.

Every movement was slow and painful. It took roughly twenty minutes of pained whines and sobs just to sit up, and you still couldn't convince yourself to stand. Because standing meant walking, and you didn't think you could handle that just yet.

You, with another moan of agony, turned to the clock, letting out a strangled exhale when you saw that it was eight thirty-five. You supposed, fortunately, you had been so exhausted you had slept through most of the pain in the night. The Winchesters had left you alone, and you were at least grateful for that.

Finally, you gained enough courage to stand. And as painful as it was, you were a hunter now. The Winchesters had to toughen up all the time. They had died before, the least you could do was hide some grimaces. You slapped on your poker face and walked as straight as you possibly could to the kitchen, albeit it wavered here and there.

Dean was making french toast for two, while Sam made himself a smoothie. You thought on this. Maybe, to better help your workout routine, you should cut back on the food. It wouldn't kill you to go on a diet and lose a little weight. So instead of Dean's offered french toast, you made a beeline for the fridge, where you grabbed a honey crisp apple.

Dean looked rather offended. "You don't want my french toast?"

You forced your face to be calm as your calf twitched and seized. "Oh, sorry, no. I actually ate a few hours ago. I went to bed at five, remember? I didn't sleep for fourteen hours," you said naturally. Oh, yes you did. You definitely did that.

That little nagging voice curiously asked you why you lied to them. Why couldn't you just tell the truth? What was with the white lies and deceit? Perhaps, you told yourself, you knew that it wasn't your best decision. You knew the Winchesters would not approve of it. You knew it was wrong.

And you figured when you had gambled with one white lie, how could another few hurt any?

So when you knew the Winchesters weren't watching, you would limp, biting back groans as your limbs struggled to cooperate with you. During your workouts, no matter that Dean would tell you to tell him when it was too much, you always bit your tongue, knowing the best workouts came from 'too much', and that you would live.

Your scale was your friend: you became more encouraged of your progress as your weight dropped.

You knew they were just trying to get you to admit defeat—that if you couldn't handle the intense workouts, then a monster would inevitably overpower you.

In this, you began to wonder of the importance of being a hunter. Did you really want this? It had become less about training and more about proving yourself to Dean that you were ready. However, you were glad they'd given up trying to sway your decision. You had shown to Dean clearly that you wanted in, and you had won them over. Once they built you up, you would finally be a hunter.

That's what kept you going.

And the workouts continued, and you felt yourself deteriorating by the thirteenth day. Standing too fast suddenly had you seeing stars, and it took several seconds to recover.

And by that thirteenth terrible day, your knees buckled, and of course, Dean was there to catch you by your armpit.

Your sweaty armpit. That had to be disgusting.

However, if Dean thought it was gross, he wasn't showing it. In fact, he seemed concerned. "You good?"

You nodded, but your breath betrayed you, hitching a little. "Just a leg cramp." Just then, your vision blurred and you leaned back into him at the wave of nausea that followed.

He turned you to face him. "Hey, what's up?"

"Just…" You felt sick. "Just a bit… dizzy. Can I sit down?" You used him as a crutch, lowering yourself until you were leaning up against the wall. Your vision was telling you you were on a carousel, and you shut your eyes tight. Your breathing was irregular as you fought the rising nausea.

"How much water have you had?"

You shrugged, and then regretted it. Your shoulders were on fire. "Some," you croaked.

"Some?" He asked, incredulous. He rubbed his face in frustration. "We've been doing this for hours. You should be drinking more than 'some'. The hell?" He looked down at you angrily from where he was crouched. "Christ. Alright, let's get you somewhere else." He pinched his nose and shouted down the hall, "Sam?!"

Sam had already seen though from where he stood in the gym. He was making his way over to the both of you.

"She's dehydrated," Dean told him. "Can you go get some water?"

"Sure," Sam said, heading to the kitchen and leaving Dean with you again.

Dean reached down and scooped you up. He had his bicep under your knees, one under your back, and his abs against your hip. He was carrying you bridal style.

And with what little consciousness you had left, the sudden motion almost made you pass out.

It also made you nervous. A nervousness that made stars break behind your eyelids. Look at you, swooning over some boys. Hell no! Shame on you. They spend half their hunts reeling over other women, it's not like they like you like that.

You wiggled, panicking a little on the inside. You threw out your hands. "Dean!" You yelped, trying to control the shakiness of your voice. "I might be tired, but this is unnecessary."

"Enjoy it," Sam called from down the hall, as if he knew exactly why you were trying to escape. He probably did. Frick Sam and his way of reading people so well. You were twenty feet away from him and he just knew.

Sam made his way back with the promised glass of cold water.

Dean said, "Next time, don't skimp on the water, okay? There's a reason we take water breaks." He took the glass from Sam just to hand it to you. "Just take some sips, alright? We don't need you getting sick on top of this."

As Dean watched you drink, his heel bounced from where he was crouching. "How much have you eaten today? No, no wait. Scratch that. What have you eaten today?"

You froze, trying to visualize the fridge space and what was in it. But lately, you would just grab some fruit and leave. You didn't really know what to tell him. "I… had some oatmeal." You recalled that being on the shelf a week ago.

Dean's frown impossibly fell further. He looked devastated. "I told you she was lying, Sam. I told you."

Sam sighed then, and his sad eyes flicked about the hallway.

"Wh…" you started to say, internally panicking. "What do you mean?"

Sam's stiff shoulders dropped. "We finished off the oatmeal a few days ago. It's even on the grocery list."

Dean sent him a look. "You make grocery lists?"

"Yes, Dean," Sam says. "Otherwise you would just get jerky, beer, and pie. That's not exactly a square meal."

Dean shrugged, but then shook his head, realizing his distraction. He turns back to you. "Wait, have you eaten anything? At all? When's the last time you actually had a meal?"

You wanted to say something, you did. But you were about as calm as a deer in the headlights.

Dean stood, throwing his hands in the air. "The hell?!" he exclaimed, and then to Sam, "What the actual hell?!" 

Sam couldn't really believe it either. The younger Winchester gathered himself. "Have you really been starving yourself?" At your lack of response, he blinked. "You're… c'mon, you're smarter than this. I know you are. What even compelled you to hurt yourself like this?"

You scoffed and denied it. You weren't hurting yourself.

"Look, I know you think this isn't doing anything, but you're wrong. You do know that to build muscle, you also have to eat protein, right? It doesn't come from nowhere. I see where your mind is going and I've seen how far you've been pushing yourself lately, but I also thought you were eating. That's a vital part of working out. Of course, you have to do it right, but it's vital. Muscles don't come from nothing," Sam told you.

You shifted, embarrassed. You were being scolded like a child.

Dean was glaring at a wall and cursing. "Sammy's got a frigging point. Also, you literally pushed yourself until you collapsed. If I hadn't caught you, you would've fallen flat on your face. And you can't even tell me that I'm wrong." He took a breath. "You were going to break yourself. Sure, you were kicking ass, too. I was impressed. And I'm—I'm still impressed, don't get me wrong. I'm impressed that you can push yourself that hard. That's good for a hunt. But kid, you couldn't tell me when you wanted a break?"

You offered a small, timid shrug and broke your gaze with him. You felt awful.

Dean looked so crushed. "God, do you really think that's what we wanted from you? To starve yourself? Kid, you got it backwards. All we want is for you to be stronger when you go out there. This? This isn't strong." Dean was quietly seething, but his anger wasn't entirely toward you. Perhaps he blamed himself, that he didn't notice sooner. "This is… this…"

You looked away, rubbing at the tears that you couldn't stop from rolling down your cheeks. You couldn't look at them or they'd see it. You couldn't face them until you were fine again. As steady as you could, you whispered, "Sam… Dean… I didn't… I am so sorry. I just wanted to be strong. I wanted to be like you."

Dean snatched your shoulder, pulling you to face him. And when you finally saw the heartbroken look in his eyes, your mouth wavered as a sob escaped you. Dean pulled you into a hug, his hands fisting your shirt and clutching you tight. You let yourself go, unable to contain your sobbing in his embrace. You just ugly cried into his shoulder, having your own pity party about how stupid you had been.

"Well," Dean said, his eyes alight with unshed tears. He didn't even bother to wipe them as they trailed. "You got that part mixed up, okay? We're not asking you to starve. We're just scared for you, alright? We want to make sure you're prepared. We can't lose anyone else. Hell, I still don't want you out there." He was torn.

Sam cut in. "But you're an adult, so it's your call. But this? If there is anything we're going to stop, it's going to be this." 

Dean began to lead you by the arm to the kitchen, careful that you were steady on your feet before moving. "Think you can stomach some of Sam's rabbit food?" Dean motioned for Sam to help and squeezed your shoulder to comfort you.

Sam nodded, opening the fridge. "I'm sure a light salad and a hard boiled egg will be okay."

You leaned into Dean's touch, knowing that they would always be there when you slipped up. When you fell to your lowest. When you did something you knew was stupid.

Because that was family.

[houseisekai]

House Isekai: Shadowbringers Act 2, Part 1 - Withering Flower (Continued)

House Isekai Shadowbringers AU Masterlist Here

—

(Continuing from Part 1′s Intermission)

----

[A Promise - Fire Emblem Three Houses OST]

Byleth reached for his head and massaged it with the chaos that was erupting.

(Towa) “I-Instructor Sara, I think it’s a bit too early to start drinking!”

(Sara) “Bah, when you grow older sweetie, anytime is a good time for drinking! Besides, we’re celebrating and having fun tomorrow, so we can afford to loosen up tonight!”

(Sharon) “Shall I fetch more ale?”

(Byleth) “No do NOT do that, Sharon.”

It was the night before the ball was to take place.

House Isekai had voted Akira to be the one to represent them in the contest, and were no doubt training for that.

After the faculty meeting, the staff of House Isekai took to their classroom to discuss what they were going to do, which led to...this situation.

(Megumi) “Well, I guess she’s not wrong about that at least. It has been a while since we were able to relax, right?”

(Cocytus) “INDEED. THESE PAST FEW MONTHS HAVE BEEN QUITE TROUBLING FOR US AND THE STUDENTS.”

(Angelica) “Sorta makes you wonder what it’s going to be like after this one...”

Doomguy said nothing but shared the same sentiment by the way he crossed his arms.

(Sara) “Oh come on, what’s with the doom and gloom? Didn’t we JUST say we needed to be relaxing?”

Sara turned to the door.

(Sara) “And it’s pretty rude for you kids to be eavesdropping on us adults!”

Some scuttling was heard outside but then the rest of House Isekai poured into the room.

(Rean) “S-Sorry! We just um...didn’t really know when to come in.”

(Ainz) “And I am sure that some of us are older than you Sara.”

(Minato) “Hey, let’s not forget what we came in here for before we start throwing shit at her.”

(Kazuma) “Yuki, wanna do the honors?”

(Yuki) “Yup!”

Yuki ran up to Byleth and said her piece.

(Yuki) “Byleth-sensei, I overheard from the other Houses that they were planning to meet up again in five years from now for the Millennium Festival! So...I was wondering if we all could do the same!”

(Byleth) “Five years from now...Are you all still going to be around in five years?”

(Yu) “We’ve put some thought into it ourselves, but honestly? Even if we did find a way home before hand, I’m sure we’ll find a way back here to visit.”

(Ainz) “Gods above know that we aren’t done with this place by a long shot...”

(Yuuri) “I guess the real question is Byleth-sensei going to be still teaching?”

Everyone turned to him.

(Rean) “Hah, little hard to imagine Instructor Byleth teaching anyone other than us honestly.”

(Minako) “I wouldn’t feel special anymore, like...he has normal people to teach instead of us!”

Everyone laughed at that.

(Angelica) “Yeah, I guess we are a little abnormal for his standards, aren’t we?”

(Byleth) “But it wouldn’t be the same without you. Sharon scaring the heck out of everyone, Towa being our council president, hearing the bickering between you all and the other students.

Byleth closed his eyes and smiled.

(Byleth) “It’s going to be quiet without you all...That doesn’t sound too bad actually.”

Sharon giggled before clearing her throat.

(Sharon) “Regardless Master Byleth, I think we are all in agreement that we would not want to miss our class reunion for anything.”

Doomguy gestured towards Akira, and it took a moment for everyone to realize what he meant.

(Yuki) “Oh, Slayer are you asking about the ball tomorrow?”

Doomguy nodded.

(Sara) “Ohh that’s right. Have you kids gotten a dance partner tomorrow? If you can’t find someone I suppose I can take pity and-”

(Everyone) “Pass.”

Sara almost choked on her drink as the staff began to laugh.

(Angelica) “Dang, even Sylvain and I haven’t gotten rejected THAT fast before, Instructor!”

(Kazuma) “You’re gonna be too drunk to dance anyway! This is a fancy ball not some dance club!”

(Megumi) “Hah, well I suppose we’ll all find out tomorrow won’t we? That reminds me, Byleth have you ever danced before?”

(Byleth) “...Megumi, do I look like I have?”

(Yuki) “Oh, Megu-nee! You should dance with Byleth!”

Thanks to Yuki’s statement, House Isekai erupted into a shouting match of who was dancing with who, which was eventually joined by all the classmates instead of the House reps.

Though he was getting a headache, Byleth smiled.

He couldn’t have asked for a better House to teach...

...

...

...

Year 1, Ruins in Faerghus territory, nearing the border of the Adrestian Empire…

Byleth blinked rapidly for a few seconds, bringing him back to reality. He had been standing out in the open, staring at Sara’s pistol in his hand.

He sheathed it and shook his head.

If he continued to do that, he would get himself killed. He can’t go thinking of the past out in the open...

Byleth walked alone through the streets of this small town. He didn’t know what it was called.

All he knew was that it was destroyed in the last massive battle that took place here.

Imperial and Kingdom soldiers lay dead as he passed them by, not bothering to check if anyone’s breathing.

He stopped walking after a minute and reached for the Sword of the Creator.

Byleth activated the whip function of his sword before a voice spoke up.

(Man’s Voice) “I’m not here to attack you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Byleth slowly turned around and saw a man dressed in black, leaning against a wall.

It was nighttime and the area was almost pitch black, but Byleth could tell immediately what he was.

(Byleth) “Give me one reason I shouldn’t cut off your head right now, Agarthan.”

(???) “I can give you two, actually. One: Because I’m the first to actually talk to you instead of attacking, unlike the rest of the idiots who tried doing that. I doubt anyone who knew the reputation of the Ashen Demon would even come within a 100 mile radius of you.”

(Byleth) “And two?”

(???) “I can give you the power you seek to destroy the Church. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all.”

(Byleth) “…Just who are you?”

The man stepped forward and the light revealed that he was wearing a mask that covered his face.

(???) “You may call me…Lahabrea.”

(Byleth) “Lahabrea? Doesn’t sound like any other Agarthan name I’ve heard.”

(Lahabrea) “That’s because it isn’t. I refuse to associate myself with them more than I have to.”

(Byleth) “...So what exactly is this power you can give me to destroy Rhea and Edelgard?”

Lahabrea held up a finger.

(Lahabrea) “Just the Church.”

(Byleth) “Right. I forgot you were allied with the Empire.”

Byleth turned around and kept walking.

(Lahabrea) “They are...Well not for long anyway. We have you for that.”

Byleth didn’t respond as Lahabrea kept talking, slowly walking behind him.

(Lahabrea) “...Is that Sara’s pistol you have there?”

Byleth finally stopped.

(Byleth) “...How do you know it’s hers?”

(Lahabrea) “Hm? I thought it fairly obviou-”

(Byleth) “The Agarthans have been focusing their attention on the bigger threats like Valimar or Slayer. And plenty of my students own these weapons, and none of you ever cared enough to know anyone of our House by name, nor has Edelgard spoken much with Sara to know what her pistol looked like and report that to you.”

Byleth turned to face Lahabrea.

(Byleth) “How do you know it’s hers?”

(Lahabrea) “...Let us say for now that I know your friends a bit more than most.”

(Byleth) “...”

(Lahabrea) “It is getting terribly late, is it not? I recommend getting some sleep soon.”

With that, Lahabrea teleported away. Byleth didn’t sense anyone else, and if he would have attacked he would have done so by now.

Byleth sighed and looked at a nearby building with a roof still over it and went inside...

...

An explosion caused Byleth to wake up violently, eyes going wide instantly accompanied with heavy breathing.

After a few moments of silence, he slumped back and sighed.

A distant explosion brightened the dark skies as he got out of a ruined building, stretching.

He stared with indifference to the battle happening far below him.

Imperial and Faerghus soldiers clashed into each other, trying to gain this territory for the war effort.

Byleth would be long gone by the time this battle would end.

He passed by a man dressed in black who was leaning against the door.

(Lahabrea) “Finally awake, I see. And where are we going?”

Byleth walked silently past Lahabrea, holding tightly onto Sara’s pistol as he did.

Byleth did his best to try and push that memory away, but it would always come back to him. The battle of Garreg Mach had only been a month ago, so it’d make sense that they were still fresh in his head.

That fact didn’t make it any more comforting to him.

As he felt rain start to drop onto him, he thought about his plan on how to kill Edelgard and Rhea.

He was one man with a sword against 2 armies that controlled entire parts of Fodlan.

When the rain intensified, he put his jacket over his head and continued.

He heard footsteps behind him splashing in the rain but he refused to let his thoughts break off.

Even with his divine pulse, he would be severely out manned. Without help, he would die before he reached his goal.

(Lahabrea) “You’re headed the wrong way, you know-”

(Byleth) “Why are you following me?”

(Lahabrea) “I’d be lying to you, and you’d be an idiot for believing me if I said I was helping you for completely altruistic reasons. We both want to take Seiros down, but you need to focus hatred to the right people. We need Edelgard alive.”

That made Byleth stop in his tracks completely.

(Byleth) “…What?”

(Lahabrea) “Stop to think about it. Does Edelgard seem like the type to like what us Agarthans did, ESPECIALLY regarding Kronya, Remire village, and your fath-”

Byleth spun around and pointed Sara’s pistol at Lahabrea’s head.

(Lahabrea) “…Forgive my careless words. But my point stands.”

(Byleth) “…”

(Lahabrea) “Edelgard, like myself, actively voiced against attacking those innocents, and anyone of House Isekai. Why do you think she offered her hand to you so many times in the tomb?”

(Byleth) “So she could use us. We would have been tools for the Empire, just like we were tools for the church. Just like you Agarthans are tools for her.”

He stopped aiming the pistol at Lahabrea and continued to walk on his way.

(Lahabrea) “And so you think the Agarthans are completely loyal to her cause? We are to her, as I am to my own organization. We have the same goals, but different ways of achieving it. The demonic beasts that attacked the Monastery, Remire Village, and all those you encountered throughout that year was ours. Your hatred should be focused on the Agarthans, NOT the Empire.”

(Byleth) “Speak plainly of why you’re telling me this, Agarthan.”

(Lahabrea) “Because both Agarthans and Seiros must be put down before we end up blowing up this world all the way to the seven hells with the Javelin of Liberation.”

(Byleth) “…Explain.”

(Lahabrea) “Meet me at House Arundel’s territory, and I will reveal all I know.”

He began to teleport away, but looked at Byleth once more.

(Lahabrea) “Not only will you avenge your friends and family, but you can put an end to this vicious cycle of war that WE started, forever.”

With that, he disappeared.

Byleth stared at Sara’s pistol for a moment before finally holstering it, making his way to House Arundel.

A Few Days Later...

Byleth finally arrived near House Arundel, and found rubble everywhere. Strangely enough, there were no bodies or any sign of combat. Only weapons and shields on the ground where the debris was.

He slowly reached for Sara’s pistol and looked around for any other sign of what happened here.

(Lahabrea) “Ah, about time you showed up.”

Byleth kept his pistol on him as he turned around, but didn’t point it at Lahabrea.

(Byleth) “This your handiwork?”

(Lahabrea) “...No. It wasn’t.”

Byleth noticed that the levity in his voice had disappeared when he said that. He seemed to be as troubled as Byleth.

(Lahabrea) “It seems that this is the Church’s doing...Hmph. It’s worse than I thought.”

Lahabrea began examining the area as well, picking up the swords and looking around the area.

(Byleth) “The Church? But they’re still battling near the borders with Imperial forces. How could they have reached this far into Adrestian territory this early in the war?”

Lahabrea remained silent for a moment before answering Byleth.

(Lahabrea) “So you truly do not know what they’ve been doing?”

(Byleth) “How would I? I’ve always been kept out of the loop since I started teaching House Isekai.”

(Lahabrea) “Hm...Tell me Byleth, do you know about a tower at Zanado?”

(Byleth) “No, not a tower. I remember finding Class VII and the Phantom Thieves there, but no tower.”

(Lahabrea) “Perhaps that is a blessing in disguise then...”

(Byleth) “Enough with these vague answers. Tell me what are you on about, or I’m walking away right now.”

Lahabrea put the sword down onto the ground and sighed.

(Lahabrea) “Fine. Little pieces at a time then. There are weapons that the Church and Those Who Slither were never meant to have. If we do not stop them, then their conflict will obliterate our world. That’s the most immediate threat we have right now.”

(Byleth) “Then what about the other threat?”

(Lahabrea) “We can talk about that when the rest of your House has returned.”

(Byleth) “You have some means of bringing them back?”

(Lahabrea) “I do. But I need your help. Without it, we will not be able to save them.”

(Byleth) “Fine. Now, before we continue, what was that about a Javelin when we last spoke?”

Lahabrea shook his head, facing another direction.

(Lahabrea) “Are you mad? Showing him this crystal could possibly kill him!”

(Byleth) “I don’t think your...friend there is the one that’s mad.”

Lahabrea turned to Byleth. Although he had a mask on, Byleth knew he was glaring daggers at him. After a few moments of silence, Lahabrea turned to Byleth again.

(Lahabrea) “The Javelin of Liberation is a weapon that was supposed to be capable of wiping out this entire world with a single strike.”

(Byleth) “Was?”

(Lahabrea) “Yes. It failed and instead of killing us all instantly, it killed us overtime. It caused some sort of winter where it caused the temperature to drop, slowly freezing us to death.”

(Byleth) “You’re speaking as if this all happened before.”

(Lahabrea) “It did. We’re going to prevent that. Now the Church-”

(Byleth) “Hang on a moment, what do you mean it did? We’re still alive aren’t we? As far as I know, Faerghus is the only place with freezing temperatures-”

(Lahabrea) “It happens in the future, Byleth!”

Lahabrea motioned Byleth to follow him as he went towards the nearby ruins.

As he was moving the rubble aside, trying to find something in the wreckage he continued.

(Lahabrea) “The Agarthans plan to use the Javelin to wipe out the Church and most of the surface world while they continue to thrive underground. But what they don’t realize is that it will kill them too. They’ll doom us all.”

(Byleth) “...And you know for a fact that this happens in the future?”

(Lahabrea) “I was there when it happened.”

(Byleth) “...So, what was that whole bit about that war that ‘we’ started?”

Lahabrea finally cleared the rubble to reveal a stairway. He went down and Byleth followed.

It was a long hallway that they were walking down, Byleth couldn’t see the end of it.

(Lahabrea) “I will get to that in a moment. Now, the Church has access to almost the same technology the Agarthans do, but they’re using it differently.”

Lighting torches with a snap of his fingers, Lahabrea continued.

(Lahabrea) “They’re using ou...my research to modify and mutant humans into abominations that blindly follow orders, in this case, Seiros. What we saw out there is a small taste to come.”

(Byleth) “What so those monsters di-?”

It had just clicked for Byleth.

The reason why there weren’t any bodies or even sign of battle.

(Lahabrea) “They come in, strike quick, then leave as fast as they came. And this is only the beginning.”

Lahabrea finally stopped by a door at the end of the hallway and opened it.

(Lahabrea) “Good, they didn’t find these notes.”

Byleth went into the room and looked around. All there was in the room was a chair in the middle, and a table near the corner that Lahabrea was at.

(Byleth) “What’s on them, Javelin schematics or something?”

(Lahabrea) “No, crest enhancement. This will help us defeat the Church.”

Lahabrea motioned over to the chair.

(Byleth) “...Hang on a second, I didn’t agree to this. My crest is fine as it is. And I don’t trust my life in the hands of someone I don’t know.”

Lahabrea turned to his left.

(Lahabrea) “He has to know. Now, it’s this, or the hard way.”

Lahabrea brought out a small glowing crystal.

(Lahabrea) “Easy way is, I enhance your crest and tell you everything you want to know afterwards. Hard way, you listen to that crystal and experience the pain of several lifetimes at once.”

Byleth furrowed his brow and grabbed the crystal.

(Byleth) “What could it possibly contain to make me-”

“I don’t know if anyone will be seeing this message, whether that be myself or anyone else who comes into this godforsaken tower but…My name is Byleth Eisner. Son of Jeralt Eisner.”

(Byleth) ?!

[Footsteps in the Snow - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]

Byleth’s mind grinded to a halt when he heard his voice emitting from the crystal.

When he looked up, Lahabrea reached for his head, softly rubbing it. He appeared to be feeling the same sensation as he did.

The moment that crystal began speaking, a throbbing feeling slowly became more and more present.

“We’re leaving this here in some hopes that this cycle can be broken, and to fix this mistake before it could ever happen…Our memories will be wiped after this, so we want to say everything we can before…before we forget.”

(Byleth) “What...What the hell?!”

As the message continued, Byleth dropped to one knee while Lahabrea did his best to shake off the headache.

(Lahabrea) “You only got yourself to blame!”

When it became clear that Byleth was experiencing the flashes Lahabrea was, Sothis appeared next to him, hands also on her head.

(Sothis)��“Ya know, you-agh! Could’ve just told him?”

(Lahabrea) “Oh please, as if he’ll believe that we’re-”

(Byleth) “AAAAAAAAGH!”

Lahabrea and Sothis turned to Byleth, who had a pincer through his stomach.

(Lahabrea) “WHAT THE HELL?!”

He drew out the Sword of the Creator and leapt forward, slicing the attacker in two.

Sothis floated over to Byleth as Lahabrea looked at the thing that had attacked him.

It appeared to be a knight with a mutated pincer, cloaked in white-

(Lahabrea) “THE CHURCH IS STILL HERE?!”

Looking around, it seemed that the Knight was waiting for his moment to strike. He could hear more footsteps on the way.

(Sothis) “Damn it, I knew we should have just left! We can’t Divine Pulse either, he’s immune to it, and who knows what it’ll do to House Isekai! They’re in mid teleportation now!”

Lahabrea rushed to Byleth, putting the crystal in his pocket.

He was struggling to breathe as blood was rushing out, a white aura slowly overtaking his body.

(Lahabrea) “Damn it, we have to teleport him back to the tower!”

(Sothis) “Are you insane?! He’s in the middle of remembering WHILE being transformed into an ‘Angel’! Who knows what that’ll do!”

(Lahabrea) “OUR ONLY HOPE IS DYING IN FRONT OF US, SO IF YOU HAVE A BETTER IDEA I’D BE GLAD TO HEAR IT!”

Sothis shook her head and helped Lahabrea teleport out of House Arundel.

Once they were inside the Zanado tower, Lahabrea began to use a healing spell.

(Sothis) “Not working, it’s starting to spread to other parts of his body!”

Byleth’s hair began to turn white, which made Lahabrea swear under his breath.

The tower began to shake violently as echoes from the past became louder.

As Lahabrea was about to cast another healing spell, the Tower flashed a bright white, blinding all three of them.

When they opened their eyes, they were back at Garreg Mach’s roof, and it felt significantly colder.

Sothis’s eyes went wide as she looked up to the skies.

It was a bright white and grey, in combination with streaks of white light raining down to the ground.

Snow was falling to the floor and it was then she realized where they were.

(Sothis) “We’re in the future where the Javelin fell!”

(Lahabrea) “Damn it, 2 Byleth’s in here in combination of us experiencing the memory is making this even more unstable!”

Byleth’s eye color began to change before Lahabrea was left with no option.

Lahabrea raised his hand up, and a dark energy flowed out of it into Byleth’s body.

The Crest of Flames appeared on Byleth’s hand, slowly transforming into a bright red color.

(Lahabrea) “Sothis, did Yu ever tell you about Marie?!”

Lahabrea grabbed Byleth’s sword and Sara’s pistol as he jumped back. 

Sothis floated over to him and looked confused.

(Sothis) “You mean that hat girl in the Velvet Room? Only a little! What does this have to do with anything?!”

(Lahabrea) “He once told me that Marie was originally going to die, but they let whatever beast that was inside her take control, and beat that thing up to where they saved her!”

(Sothis) “Oh, don’t tell me you-”

Byleth’s body rose into the air, streams of light and dark energy mixing together.

(Lahabrea) “If this works, he’ll become our trump card against the Agarthans and Church!”

(Sothis) “But he’ll still have the angel blood in him, right?! Even if we save him, he’ll still transform!”

(Lahabrea) “We’ll find out a cure later, if we lose him, then all hope is lost!”

Lahabrea held Byleth’s sword tightly, and it powered up in response.

(Lahabrea) “Good, it still works!”

Lahabrea quickly put the pistol onto his belt before Sothis got his attention.

(Sothis) “Byleth!”

[Return to Oblivion - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]

Sothis floated to Lahabrea’s side, bringing up a reflective shield around him.

Byleth stopped screaming as his clothes transformed into a dark blue, and his hair transforming back into green.

Wings sprouted from his back, tearing apart his body as he slowly turned into a bright white form, growing larger.

Lahabrea tried to shake off the voices that echoed in the distance, instead focusing on the fight that was about to happen.

“Why did you choose Edelgard, Professor?! Why did you choose to walk this savage, bloody path? I cannot shake this feeling of regret... Regret that I must kill you now.”

Byleth’s form now took on something similar to the Immaculate One’s form, which made Lahabrea hold his weapon tighter. There wasn’t any trace of Byleth in this new form.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

“Professor... I suppose you think you can defeat me. Is that right? But I will never give up. Even if my arms and legs failed me, I would still find a way to move forward. I will smash that false goddess and her minion into the ground! I will fight to free this world from her vile grasp!”

(Sothis) “Is it me, or are these voices getting louder?!”

(Lahabrea) “Ignore it, Sothis! 

Sothis tried her best to ignore it, and finally snapped back to attention seeing Byleth’s new form in front of her.

He was smaller than the Immaculate One, most likely barely half her size, but by no means did that make him any less deadly.

"Teach... You should have chosen me instead of Edelgard. No point in whining about it now, I suppose. Sorry, but I'll be taking the win today."

The angel form of Byleth roared with such force that it made the wind almost push the both of them off. Lahabrea leapt forward with both swords, making the first move.

Wanting, I lie

Too weary to die

His swords were met by a fireball, the heat melting the snow instantly as it forced Byleth back onto the ground.

Too lost to the ice for saving

My sins claim me, untame me

Sothis raised her hand and countered with another fireball that hit Byleth, making him fly backwards.

Eyes wet with tears

Her song in my ears

Byleth roared back and rushed them, claws swinging as he crashed through the railings.

Lahabrea rolled out the way as the entire roof shook, and activated the whip function of the swords.

Broken, faded, how long have I waited

To open my wings

When Byleth came back for another pass, Lahabrea swung the whips at his claws, making Byleth fly back.

Byleth’s mouth opened, shooting out another fireball.

Turn the light on

And let her in. Won't you

Turn the light on

Lahabrea let Sothis’s shield take the blow, pushing him back from the impact.

Sothis got in front  and held both her hands out.

(Sothis) “THORON!”

Turn the light on

You'll never win 'less you

Turn the light on

A stream of lightning rushed out of her hands, Byleth diving out the way and landing back onto the roof.

Turn the light on

The pain won't end 'till you

Turn the light on

(Sothis) “This is getting us nowhere!”

(Lahabrea) “We’re still in the Zanado tower, and this place was formed out of our memories, right?”

(Sothis) “Yeah, its a recreation of whatever happened before the others came into our world!”

(Lahabrea) “In that case- Heed my call...”

The soul longs for oblivion, 

Oblivion

“VALIMAR, THE ASHEN KNIGHT!”

A phantom of Valimar emerged from a dark portal, and hit Byleth with its greatsword.

Byleth roared before being hit by it again, sending it flying upwards.

Valimar landed and turned to Lahabrea before fading away into the same dark portal.

Falling too far for the fear to embrace me

A voice from the past screaming there is no end (no)

A slave to my fate, ever doomed to repeat this

again and again and again and again (yeah, I'm)

(Sothis) “What in the?!”

Lahabrea sheathed one of the swords to have an open hand, the snow drawing into it as he prepared a spell.

(Lahabrea) “Take out the wings with ice spells!”

Falling too fast, no it won't overtake me

A voice from the past echoes loud like a drum (oh, yes)

no more goodbyes, though my heart is still aching

Now open my eyes, one more time, Here I come

Sothis and Lahabrea fired spear-like icicles into the wings of Byleth, making him screech and fall to the roof.

Once he got up, he started to roar.

(Lahabrea) “If I can summon Valimar like that, then we can summon the others to fight with us!”

(Sothis) “Well, it faded away instantly, right?!”

Byleth swung his tail at them, hitting Lahabrea into the railing, almost breaking it and sending him flying off.

The ice made him slide down the stairs, getting stunned for a moment.

(Sothis) “Damn it! Tch, here goes nothing, HOUSE ISEKAI, ANSWER OUR CALL!”

As Byleth walked to Lahabrea, a massive sword suddenly struck his face and made him recoil back in pain.

When Byleth turned back, a phantom of Ainz donning Momon’s armor stood in front of them.

Byleth’s claws lunged forward, Momon deflecting the hit, then each swipe he managed to dodge.

(Lahabrea) “Agh, goddess that hurt!”

(Phantom of Nabe) “Get up.”

Narberal offered her hand and helped up Lahabrea before jumping to Momon’s side.

Before she could make an attack, Byleth shot a fireball point blank, incinerating the two into a dark energy.

Lahabrea activated the whip function and swung at the arm, making a deep cut and making Byleth roar in pain.

When Byleth tried to stand on the arm, he limped over.

(Sothis) “Just how powerful did your past self make that mutation?!”

(Lahabrea) “It’s not helping that it’s enhanced by church magic, or whatever it is!”

Byleth charged up another fireball, forcing Lahabrea to strain the Tower’s energy.

(Lahabrea) “PERSONA!”

Arsene, Thanatos, and Izanagi appeared in front of Lahabrea, all casting a protective spell around them as the fireball set the entire roof ablaze.

The two couldn’t even see the snow on the roof anymore with all the smoke and fire engulfing them.

Reason resigned

Dark seasons' design

“I'm...dying for someone else? I can't believe this.”

As the Personas faded away, Sothis, Byleth and Lahabrea tried to shake off the voices that had returned.

Spring's promise of sun is honored

When winter's weighed down on us

(Lahabrea) “Come on, not now!”

Darkness erupted from Byleth’s mouth, and it seem he was stunned.

Visions in white

Raw fury in flight

(Lahabrea) “The crest enhancements created an opening!”

He sheathed one sword and grabbed the pistol throwing it up into the air.

A phantom of Sara and Sharon emerged above them, Sara grabbing the pistol.

(Sara & Sharon) “ARCUS, ACTIVATE!”

Clear as diamond, yet fragile as ice

My heart is racing

Lahabrea was about to join them before being dropped to a knee, hearing more voices yell out.

“Your Majesty, I die so that...you may seize your destiny.”

“Your Highness. Somehow you must...”

The phantoms sped around Byleth, cutting at specific locations to make him drop to the floor, unable to fight properly.

Turn the light on

And let her in. Won't you

Turn the light on

(Sothis) “H-Hey! We’re supposed to be just beating him up, right?!”

(Phantom of Sharon) “Not to worry, Miss Sothis!”

Sharon pulled the wires in her hands back, completely enwrapping Byleth in them.

Turn the light on

You'll never win 'less you

Turn the light on

Sharon bowed as Sara winked, their phantoms disappearing.

The pistol dropped onto the floor as Byleth struggled to break free, clearly on the breaking point.

Turn the light on

The pain won't end 'till you

Turn the light on

(Lahabrea) “Right, let’s finish this! DO IT!”

Sothis began to glow a bright yellow as Byleth finally broke free of the wires and was about to charge at them before a phantom of Doomguy emerged from a portal and hit the side of his head, making him fall over.

He launched an ice grenade from his shoulder cannon as a smaller phantom appeared below him.

(Phantom of Kurumi) “I GOT THIS!”

The soul longs for oblivion,

Oblivion

The grenade exploded, freezing his back leg into place, making sure he wasn’t able to move for a few more moments. The phantom of Kurumi struck his eye with her shovel, making him stunned for longer.

They both nodded as they faded away.

Falling too far for the fear to embrace me

A voice from the past screaming there is no end (no)

A slave to my fate, ever doomed to repeat this

again and again and again and again (yeah, I'm)

Sothis cast one last fire spell that enveloped Byleth, preparing for the final hit.

(Sothis) “We just say the move and the tower will fill in the rest right?”

(Lahabrea) “Yeah- Wait, you’re not going to do what I-”

Falling too fast, but the fall will not break me

A voice from the past echoes loud like a drum (oh, yes)

no more goodbyes, I am tired of waiting

Now open my eyes, one last time, Here I come

(Sothis) 

“EXPLOOOOOOOOSION!”

A bright white ball formed in front of Byleth, then erupted into an inferno that blasted the entire rooftop apart, with Sothis barely forming a shield around them.

Their vision was completely enveloped into a blinding white as they felt their bodies tumble onto a smooth floor.

When Lahabrea opened his eyes, he struggled to get up as he winced in pain, looking over to Byleth’s location.

Byleth was extremely bruised, but other than that he was fine. Though the white hair was still concerning.

Lahabrea was looking around, and sure enough they were back in the Zanado tower.

[Tears in the Rain - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]

Sothis collapsed onto the floor, heavily breathing.

(Sothis) “No...No wonder she always passes out after casting that!”

Lahabrea tried to warm himself up after fighting in that cold. He finally had time to realize just how low the temperatures were in that world.

And it also made him realize that those who weren’t killed initially by the blast most likely froze to death.

(Lahabrea) “...We have to ensure that our world won’t end up like that, Sothis.”

(Sothis) “...Yeah.”

She floated over to Byleth and began examining him while Lahabrea took off his mask and began casting a healing spell.

(Sothis) “Knocked out hard. But he’ll live.”

She then turned her attention to the Angel blood inside him.

(Sothis) “...For now. Whatever we did worked.”

Lahabrea finished healing and looked at his own hands.

(Lahabrea) “To be honest, I don’t know how I managed to summon everyone like that.”

He turned around and thought of the very first person that came to mind.

(Lahabrea) “Edelgard.”

An older Edelgard appeared in front of him, standing completely still.

Lahabrea waved his hand in front of her face, but she didn’t respond. After a few moments, she quickly disappeared.

(Sothis) “The longer we’re in this tower, the more questions I seem to have. How did any of this even happen?”

(Lahabrea) “It most likely has to deal with our memories. Since our past self remembered what the world was like when the Javelin hit, we were...transported there because of it I think.”

He pulled out the crystal again and stared at it. When he did, he heard the voices of that timeline softly echo.

(Sothis) “Maybe, Byleth was overwhelmed by the flood of memories that he created an area similar to it with the tower?”

(Lahabrea) “That seems likely. But it seems having two Byleth’s in here is too dangerous. We were lucky we didn’t get the other Sothis back yet.”

Lahabrea picked Byleth up and was ready to teleport him out of there.

(Lahabrea) “In combination with the memories, this angel inside of him may corrupt him into something far deadlier...”

(Sothis) “Then there’s a chance he may die.”

(Lahabrea) “...That’s something we’re going to have to risk.”

Sothis looked uncomfortable with that answer.

(Sothis) “His Sothis won’t be happy to hear that. Neither will House Isekai...”

(Lahabrea) “One thing at a time. We’ll tell them when they’re ready. For now, we must tend to his injuries in a safer spot.”

Lahabrea put the crystal into a nearby pedestal and teleported away with Sothis.

...

...

...

(Claude) “I think that’s the end of that...memory or whatever.”

Everyone looked away from the crystal mirror and tried to understand what they just witnessed.

(Yosuke) “So that Lahabrea guy we’ve been seeing...He’s Byleth?!”

(Teddie) “And Sothis is with him too!”

(Ignatz) “The Goddess doesn’t look anything like that!”

(Lorenz) “I suppose the question to be asking is what DO we know? This tower has never been here to our knowledge, Lahabrea is able to materialize your classmates into existence, AND has the power of the goddess and time on his side!”

(Kanji) “In other words, we don’t know shit...”

(Rise) “Eloquently put, Kanji...”

(Naoto) “They’re right. We need to keep investigating before we make any assumptions. The most we have right now is our memories future and past being displayed with echoes.”

(Yu) “Besides, we’ve just begun the investigation right?”

(Hilda) “Hey, I found that crystal that Lahabrea guy was talking about.”

As soon as she got near the pedestal, a door opened up behind it.

(Chie) “Uh...What’s that?”

(Yukiko) “Should we open it?”

(Raphael) “Well we aren’t going anywhere by not opening it.”

(Leonie) “W-Wait a second!”

Raphael opened the door and walked in, everyone rushing in behind.

(Lysithea) “YOU IDIOT, DON’T JUST GO...and...”

(Marianne) “By the goddess...!”

Everyone was awestruck by the room they had walked into.

The staggering heights the ceiling went to, with the crystal in the wall illuminating the entire tower. It was the most beautiful and sinister thing they had ever seen.

(Claude) “Well, it certainly won’t be a dull time that’s for sure.”

(Yu) “Everyone, let’s get moving!”

====

Part 1: END

[This Beautiful Cruel World - Attack On Titan OST]

Your dream is where your heart is

It’s something more fragile than life itself

No matter how many times you throw it away, you still find it

So rest in peace now

Your wish is violated by your pulsing urge

and as much as you forget about it, you recall it again

In this beautiful and cruel world

We only ask “why” we’re still alive…

Ah, what are we going to protect

with our strength and weakness? If reason no longer exists

TO BE CONTINUED IN:

[whentommymetalfie]

Lights On

A/N: A quick little one shot I wrote for the Tommy/Alfie prompt fest over on Ao3. Modern AU and not connected to any of my other works. Established relationship and lots of hurt/comfort. 

Summary: Every year on Bonfire Night, Tommy hides under the covers terrified by all the fireworks, this year Alfie is under the covers with him comforting him.

Tommy doesn’t acknowledge him. His breathing continues to come in erratic burst, wheezing out of his throat. Alfie strokes his hair

“It‘s just noise, love, just noise,” he whispers. “It’s scary fucking noise, I’ll give you that, all those bangs. But it’s just noise."

Pairing: Tommy/Alife

Wordcount: 1800

Warnings: ptsd

Never fucking drive in London... Alfie should know better by now and he thoroughly hates himself for this decision, as well as the one to ‘just swing by for some groceries’ despite working late in the bakery to prepare a dough. But his royal highness Thomas Michael Shelby will be most displeased if there’s no milk tomorrow and honestly, whatever his princess wants, he shall have. If only because it gives Alfie the excuse to say that exact phrase and watch Tommy scowl at him.

Right now however, he’s fairly sure Tommy would’ve taken his tea without milk indefinitely if it had meant Alfie would’ve been home on time.

Finally, he has to give up and park several blocks away from their apartment. And it’s possible the front tire ends up on the sidewalk, but that seems completely irrelevant at the moment. Far above him, the smattering of fireworks continue relentlessly. He slams the door shut using his foot, one arm around the bag of groceries and fishing for his mobile in his coat pocket with his free hand. The signals go through, but there’s no answer. Making his way down the street he starts typing out yet another text, despite the three previous ones remaining unanswered. Will be home in less than five minutes love-

“Oi, watch where you’re-“

He doesn’t even slow down to apologize to the highly offended owner of the voice.

Two minutes later, he’s standing outside their apartment, cursing and wrestling with the locks on the door, wondering who on earth decided doors needed this many fucking locks. If people are determined enough to break in and have gotten through one lock, why would a second one stop them? Would they suddenly fucking… give up halfway through?

Finally he gets the door open.

“Tommy, love, I’m so sorry I’m late. It‘s fucking bullshit this… was an accident on the A40 and I had to-“ He struggles out of his boots, leaving them haphazardly in the middle of the hallway. “Had to fucking take the tunnel, didn’t I? Yeah. Absolute fucking bullshit- Some people clearly shouldn’t be operating any vehicle more complicated than a bike.“

All the lights are on in the apartment, but Tommy is nowhere to be seen.

“Tommy?” He shoves the entire bag of groceries into the fridge -fuck actually sorting them into shelves, he’s got more important things to do, and then sets off towards the bedroom.

There’s a small lump in the middle of the bed, covered entirely by the duvet and several blankets.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs as he walks up to the bed, sinking down onto the mattress and rubbing his palm over the figure. “It’s okay.”

The lump remains motionless but he feels the slight tremors under his palm, can hear the hitched breaths. When he lifts the covers ever so slightly he finds Tommy curled up into a tightly wounded ball, knees drawn up to his chest, face tucked against them and arms covering his head. He’s not just trembling, but actually shaking violently, which becomes painfully clear now. When a smattering of fireworks go off just a block or two away, he lets out a choked whimper and winds his fingers into his hair.

“It’s alright, love, I’m here now,” Alfie says and lies down behind him, pulling the covers up over them both again. Then he curls himself around his quivering frame, opting for wrapping an arm all the way over his knees and letting him stay in his position. Tommy doesn’t acknowledge him. His breathing continues to come in erratic burst, wheezing out of his throat. Alfie strokes his hair

“It‘s just noise, love, just noise,” he whispers. “It’s scary fucking noise, I’ll give you that, all those bangs. But it’s just noise. Happy people who just want an excuse to play with a bit of… fire and gunpowder, but it’s all fun and games. And the worst that’ll come out of it are all those colourful plastic bits you find all over the city for days afterwards.”

He presses a kiss against the nape of his neck.

“You’re home, you’re safe, and no one in the world will ever hurt you again. Because I’m going to personally hunt them down and end them in the most painful way possible if they do.”

There’s a high bang right outside the bloody window and Tommy lets out a horrified shriek that seems to cut like a dagger through his chest. Then there’s another one and Alfie realises that whoever is setting those off is hanging out on the street beneath their flat. If he listens closely, he can hear the unmistakable drunken hollering of a few lads apparently having the time of their fucking life out there.

When the third firecracker goes off, Tommy starts crying. This heart wrenching, desperately frightened sound that cuts him to his very core.

And fuck it, Alfie might not be able to do anything about the entire goddamn city losing their collective mind, but he can at the very least keep them away from this small patch of street…

“I’ll be right back, love,” he promises in a whisper and squeezes Tommy tightly, before climbing out of bed and stomping over to the window. He throws it open and stares down at the street, where a group of five young men are having a grand ole time with a box of matches and far more firecrackers than anyone should reasonably have. Which of course must break all sorts of laws but he couldn’t give less of a fuck -as long as they’re far away from here.

“Oi, you fucking lot!” he bellows and successfully gains the attention of at least two of them -one wearing a spectacularly dumb hat with some print he can’t read but instantly hates anyway, and one with a slightly less dumb hat. “Fuck off with that noise will you?”

“Nah, you fucking…fuck off,” Dumb Hat Guy yells back. Now, that’s really fucking eloquent, innit?  

“Alright, this is the deal,” Alfie barks at them, somehow trying to burn Dumb Hat alive with his gaze alone. “I’ve got someone up here who can’t fucking stand all this noise. So if I have to fucking tell you again, I’m going to come down there and shove one of those so far up your arse you can fire it through your fucking mouth!” He does wish he was a bit closer -he cuts a more imposing figure face to face, he’s well aware. But thank fuck the guys don’t seem to be out for trouble tonight.

“Fucking fine,” Less Dumb Hat Guy bellows as Dumb Hat Guy starts dragging him down the street to join their three friends, who are blessing the neighbourhood with a terribly off key version of God save the queen.

All things considered that went easier than expected. Alfie shoves the window closed and quickly returns to the bed and Tommy, who hasn’t moved an inch since he left, still shaking violently and choking out heart wrenching sobs. He pulls him close again.

“There we go, they went away. I know I can’t make all of the noise stop, but it’s a start,” he whispers and rubs his palm over his side. “But it’ll stop soon, I promise.”

For a bit, there’s no change: Tommy stays curled up so tightly that Alfie thinks he might’ve frozen like that, the quiet sobs wracking his frame. Alfie just holds him. Holds him, shushes him gently and mutters soothing nonsense against the soft skin on the back of his neck. It’s all he can do for now. He wishes he didn’t have to know shit like that, but things are the way they are, right? So he’s well versed in how these things usually go. And he knows that right now, Tommy can’t quite hear him. Mostly just registers that he’s there, that he’s not alone. But there’s no point in getting into elaborate stories. Simply repeating that he’s safe, that he’s not alone and holding him is enough.  

Bit by bit, Tommy’s muscles seem to soften, and his legs relax enough for Alfie to wrap the arm around his waist instead. He places a hand on his chest, feeling the quick pitter patter of Tommy’s heart against his palm. Like a frightened rabbit’s. He pulls him a bit closer. Hoping his own heartbeat will somehow seep into Tommy’s chest and calm his racing pulse.

The fireworks continue to thunder in the distance.

“So, a lady came to the bakery today,” he begins quietly. “Wanted to buy raisin bagels. Of all the things in the world. Whoever began stuffing raisins into perfectly good bread should be charged for their heinous crimes against humanity.“

He talks a bit about the nerve of certain people. It’s becoming quite warm and stuffy underneath the duvet, but it’s a small price to pay. Whatever makes Tommy feel even marginally more safe is worth it. As he talks, he can feel Tommy relax further into his embrace. Finally he turns around to face him, burying his face in his chest.

“Would you like to get out of these clothes, love?” he asks then. “Think you’d be more comfortable.”

After getting a small nod in response, he helps Tommy out of his clothes and goes to turn the light off, making sure to first switch on the lamp on the bedside table. When he climbs back into bed, Tommy is watching him from under heavy eyelids, his long lashes still wet with tears. God, if he could, he’d go out there and personally rip the fireworks from each and every fucking idiot holding them, consequences be damned. A statement that when said out loud finally earns him a faint smile, even as Tommy still trembles ever so slightly.

Soon, Tommy is safely wrapped up in his arms again, face buried in his chest. Outside, another round of fireworks go off right nearby and like clockwork, his breathing hitches.

“Did I ever tell you about the time me and my cousin tried to build a hot air balloon and send his action figure to the moon?” Alfie asks and Tommy makes a noise that could almost be the beginning of a quiet laugh.

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, it’s an excellent, excellent story, so strap yourself in,” he says and starts stroking his hair again, raking his nails softly against his scalp. “So, me and my cousin, right, we used to spend a few weeks every year at his grandmother’s place outside Margate. Big fields and all that, and-“

It’s a long story. And once that is finished, he follows it up with another one, and another, as the fireworks outside continue to brighten the sky into blue and green and red. Tommy clings tightly to him, as if he’s drowning. Perhaps he is, in a way. But Alfie will do his best to keep him afloat.  

[stargazedwinchester]

Just Saying | Dean

i know its been very long since ive wrote, but i have completely missed writing, i feel like nothing else will really be my forte like writing is, so here’s a quick imagine i started 4 years ago that i never finished haha. so here it is!

i’ll probably write a sam version of this, idk

Based off of 5SOS’s song ‘just saying’, listen to it here

Warnings: Swearing, I’m a bit rusty but I really tried to make it amazing

Word count: 1,805

“He’s almost an hour late! Where is he?” You huff, checking your phone for any missed calls or unread messages. None. “I’m calling him.” You look through your contacts and called his number. “There’s no point Y/N,” Dean speaks up, “He’s a total loser. He’s got no future, everyone’s telling you that.” You look over at Dean, whose eyes are glued to the TV screen. “But they like me.”

“The guy has no job, and yet he doesn't bother to take you out anywhere. If he does, he’s late... just like today.”

“Dean-”

“You always come home with no money, you complain that whenever the check comes, he always makes you pay. Always. I’d never do that, just saying.” Dean glanced over at you, shrugging. A small smirk washes upon his face. “Are you telling me song lyrics or something? What’s with the ‘just saying’?” You sat down next to him, squinting your eyes a little bit, trying to figure the guy out. “Are you high? Dean, are you doing drugs?”

“Y/N! No! It just bugs me a lot that you even put effort into this guy. Not once has he ever shown you effort or any appreciation.” Dean shuts the TV off, the black screen dimming the room. He stands up, and treads over to the fridge, and pulls out a beer, offering you one. You pass on it, and he just places it onto the marble counter.

“When you change your mind, I’ll be waiting.” He sips at his beer and looks around the bunker. “Waiting to tell me ‘I told you so’?” You sit there confused, what was Dean talking about? You were pretty sure something has gotten into Deans system to make him talk like this, to act this way. He shrugs. “Dude, you like him. Why are you acting this hostile towards him?” You check your phone again, still no messages. “I can act, Y/N.” he points his pointer finger at you, and raises his eyebrows slightly.

“But what about the French Mista-”

“Let’s never bring that up ever again.” He spoke, drinking his beer once more. Your phone buzzed, and your heart skipped a beat. “He’s parked up the street. I’ll see you later.” You stand up and walk out through the bunkers door. You walk up the hill that the bunker is set on, seeing a car with the parking lights on. That was him.

What if what Dean said was true? But what exactly was he getting at? It honestly sounded like he was trying to terribly serenade you with trashy boyband lyrics, but you shrugged it off and tried to enjoy the rest of your night.

--

“What are you so worked up about?” Sam questions Dean, unsure of his brothers' feelings and actions. Dean looks the other way. “Y/N. She’s out with... with that douchebag and she should know her worth, man.” Dean sighs, yet going back to the fridge for another beer. “Aww, is someone jealous?” Sam chuckles, poking fun at the older Winchester. “You’re like a little broken-hearted teenager.” He chuckles again, receiving a death glare from Dean. “Shut up, you ass. I just care for her, that's all. I’m so much better than him.” Dean pauses at his statement, contemplating it for a second. His eyebrows wrinkled as he thought whether or not he’s actually better for you than some lowlife. Despite his drinking habits, his unnecessary swearing, and awful, awful good luck with the ladies, he would quite literally make the perfect boyfriend. Hell, even as a friend he would be the absolute best. Dean takes another sip of his beer. “Yeah, I guess you are- in some ways- better than him. But don’t give up hope, man. She’s probably just waiting for you to come in and save the day like always.” Sam pats him on the back and exits the kitchen.

You arrived back at the bunker, fed up and absolutely wasted. You had to hold onto the handrail with both hands and slowly make your way down the spiral stairs, while you had to keep telling yourself to not throw up all over yourself, and the bunker. You look up, seeing an extra tall Winchester stood at the bottom of the stairs. You groan. “God, how drunk are you?” They ask, you’re so hammered you can’t even make sure who’s who. Or even if this is one of the Winchesters. You release your grip from the staircase and go to grab the forearm of said person, and instantly, you know who it is. “Ah. Sam. You’re Sam.”

“Yep. It is. Let’s get you to bed.” Sam attempts to pick you up but you refuse. “If you dare pick me up I will be sick, so don’t try it.” You warn, making Sam laugh. There was a comfortable silence as he slowly walked you down to your room, you knew Sam has always been there for you, even when you’re drunk. Sam’s intentions have never been bad, neither has Dean’s. They’d do absolutely anything for you, even if it means allowing you to be with someone who knows zilch about your real life, neither would he even care about learning everything you’ve been through, all of the ups and the downs and the things you’ve learnt on the way, he wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care.

Those words replayed in your head countless times, you weren’t too sure if it was your brain trying to tell you something after the uneventful night you had or if maybe, just maybe you weren’t actually feeling it. You sighed then groaned.

“What’s wrong?” Sam questions, placing his hand on the top of your back, still helping you from swaying side to side. “Nothing.” You look up at him, he connects eyes with you. “It was so bad. We went to this restaurant that wasn’t even that good. We ordered food and he kept insisting that I ordered something different since he ‘doesn’t want me to gain weight.’” You air quoted, stopping in your tracks. Sam stood back and crossed his arms. “What a dick.” He says, leaning against the wall. “I know, right? Dean wouldn’t do that to me. Hell, you wouldn’t either and you’re the health freak.” You huff, making Sam smirk. “He even made me pay.” You point out, Sam rolls his eyes and pushes himself off of the wall. “Again? Y/N, what do you even see in him?” The way Sam asked you this question made you feel so inferior, you had no reason as to why you do actually like him, you made yourself believe you’d want something normal, something away from the hunter life, and that if all else fails, at least you’d be able to go back to your normal, suburban home somewhere in America and settle down with your husband, find a job, have some kids and live normally. But, you never really gave it a second thought that now that you’re in the hunter life, there’s really no way out. Things will still come after you to get revenge or even just for fun... you wouldn’t be able to just throw it all away, besides, the Winchesters need you. “I don’t know, dude, I just thought I could have something different on the side of hunting. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being stupid.” You look down at the floor, then turn around to open your bedroom door. But then, you notice a figure stood to the right of you, and you look up and realise it’s Dean. 

Sam pats you on the back and smiles at Dean, leaving you two alone.

“You’re not stupid, Y/N.” Dean exclaims, opening the door for you. You look up at him and smile, to be thankful. You lift your left leg up and attempt to take your shoes off, but almost topple over with the lack of balance, within an instant, Dean grabs you by the arm and leads you over to your bed, and kneels down on the floor, untying your boots for you. “Thanks, Dean.” You say, laying back onto the bed, your hands covering your face. Dean places your boots next to the bedside table and moves onto the other one. He glances up at you. “No problem, sweet.” Everythings quiet for a moment. Dean gets up off of the floor and joins you on the bed, laying back the exact same as you. His arms are crossed across his stomach, while he stares up at the ceiling. “I’m better than him.” He blurts, instantly regretting what he said. “I mean, I overheard you and Sam and he told you to not get a burger? What kind of man does that?” His attempt to make a smooth recovery didn’t end so well, you look at him and laugh. “I know. I really wanted that burger, too. I had to get myself drunk so I could stand him.” You smile, somewhat guilty. You felt bad speaking about relationship problems to someone who never truly has had a proper relationship before.

Dean looks over at you, his gorgeous, apple green eyes shining at yours. You never observed such a beautiful shade before, something so unique but so unforgiving. The fact that those eyes can still shine so bright after he lost his mother, his father, and his brother a few times, it’s incredible. So fascinating, in fact, that you stare back. The back of your hand traces over his cheek, he blinks, then smirks. “I’d do anything for you, Y/N. Hell, I’d die for you if you asked me to.” His eyes dart from your eyes to your lips, but he didn’t want to seem desperate.

You have to physically stop yourself from moving over and kissing the life out of him, he's basically your best friend and probably not even into you like that, you’re sure of it. Dean likes the dumb blondes that only want any sort of intercourse instead of a connection. But the more he stares, the more you’re unsure of what his intentions are. The more you want to go for it. ‘Fuck it, go for it!’ your heart tells you, and you do. Your lips just barely touch his, and he hesitates, wondering what you’re doing, but he moves in closer for a better touch. His hand gently slides through your hair and you smile. It’s the happiest you’ve been with someone, someone that isn’t even yours. At least not yet, anyway.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. I’ve always loved you.” He murmurs, between the kiss. Your heart stops. What did he say? 

“What?” You break the kiss, but still touching foreheads. “I’ve always loved you.” He repeats, tracing his right thumb over the bottom of your lip. “I have.” He whispers, going back in for another kiss. “I’ve always loved you too.”

[yodawgiherd]

Scars that time can't heal, pt.2

Rating: T

>>>Read on AO3<<<

First of all, I was blown away by how many of you commented on the last chapter, thank you all very much for that. Taking and processing all your opinions, I've concluded that there was enough support for me to get to work on the second part. To the readers who wanted this thing to continue, this chapter is entirely your doing, and I hope you enjoy it at least as much as the previous one.

Stay cool. :D

Alone, as she should be, as she spent the long years of her life. It was good, solitude, it taught a person to be independent, not to rely on anyone or anything. When Mikasa was sure that Eren was truly gone, she dragged herself from the bed and towards the shower. Look, maybe her place was a mess, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t give her body the basic care package, including peeing after sex and having a shower. Her legs still felt weak from Eren’s performance, as it was some time since Mikasa got laid and her body probably forgot the strain. Leaning on the slick wall, she ruffled her boyishly short hair, a cut that she had from her days in the army to today, made so short that it wouldn’t tangle in any gear. Lazy thoughts swirled in her head.

Eren was probably never coming back. That was the thing with one-night stands, they lasted, as the name aptly suggests, one night. As of now, standing under the water with her eyes closed, feeling positively ravaged yet in a good way, Mikasa would definitely go for the guy again, but that wasn’t happening. Meh, you can’t always get what you want, right? Right.

It was better like this anyway, repeated encounters could lead to unpleasant questions. For example, Eren could ask to see her naked, an understandable request considering that they had sex and all, but Mikasa didn’t feel like flaunting her scars in front of just anyone. They were hideous, spread over her body like a web of snakes, marking the otherwise pleasantly smooth skin. The price you pay for foolishness.

Abruptly ending her self-pity session, Mikasa turned the shower off and crawled back to bed, not even bothering with dressing herself. One of the many benefits of being alone – no one can see you.

The sleep was exactly as peaceful as she predicted, with no nightmares or dreams to bother her, leaving her positively refreshed in the morning. No headache either, but recalling the events of last night, Mikasa couldn’t say that she was surprised. She didn’t drink much, neither did the guy, which posed the question why the hell did that last night even happened. It wasn’t much of drunk sex, it was more like normal sex with some alcohol involved. But why? Was it as Jean said, and Mikasa was simply looking for some fun? And why did that guy’s voice sound so familiar? It felt as if he was a part of some repressed memory, imprinted deep into her brain but unrecognizable, and it pissed her off. With a muttered curse, Mikasa rolled off the bed in search of some clothes, yearning to get out and fill her head with something else but that mysterious stranger.

How was Jean awake and looking like he just had a full night's sleep was still a mystery. Seeing Mikasa, his face split into a grin and he gestured for her to come closer.

“So?”, he began, as soon as she sat down on the barstool, “How was it?”

Mikasa shrugged.

“How was what?”

“Oh come now, I saw you luring that poor man into your lair last night.”

She didn’t say anything to that, simply pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Another souvenir from her time in the army, not only the scars but also a crippling nicotine addiction. For god and country.

“T’was fine,”, Mikasa mumbled, nondescript, filling her lungs with smoke.

“Just fine?”

“Nothing special.”, she lied, looking up to meet Jean’s eyes, “Not great, not terrible. Just sex.”

“Really?”, Jean dragged the word out, eyes squinting in suspicion, “Why do I find that hard to believe…”

“No idea.”

But he didn’t drop it, as Mikasa hoped he would, instead Jean stroked his chin, somehow mimicking a detective who’s trying his damndest to crack open a case. It irritated her.

“Look,”, she snapped, “It’s not like you tell me all about your fuck adventures, so why should I?”

“I don’t tell you about them because you want to hear it,”, Jean shot right back, “You’re my best friend, Miks, I’d tell you every dirty detail if you cared.”

Seeing that Mikasa still wasn’t very prone to talking, Jean decided to switch into another tactic. Extortion.

“See, I have made a cup of coffee for someone who would tell me about their last night,” with an overly dramatic sigh, he stirred the liquid, “But since there’s no one, I guess I’ll just have to pour it in the sink…”

Bribes are hard to refuse, especially when they are this tempting. And sometimes, giving ground in an argument for temporary gain is acceptable, Mikasa decided. Reaching out, she swiped the cup away from Jean, who had a devilish smirk on his face, and took a sip. God-sent brew.

“Well,”, he said, watching her gulp it down, “I’m waiting…”

Setting down the now empty cup, Mikasa organized her thoughts. She couldn’t tell Jean everything, of course, but some choice facts could be said between friends.

“You were right,” she nodded at him, “When you said that I needed some fun. It was pretty good, made me sleep well too. And... Uh… He knew what he was doing, that’s for sure.”

“What was his name?”

“Eren.”

“Eren… ?”

“I didn’t ask about his surname,”, Mikasa frowned at Jean, “Why should I?”

“Because you guys were talking for hours here?”, he apparently had a hard time believing her, “What did you talk about then?”

“Uhm… Stuff?”

“Such as?”

“I…”

But even trying to remember as hard as she could, Mikasa couldn’t recall anything specific. They talked, sure, but it was just the classic small talk. She didn’t know his full name, what he worked as, his hobbies, nothing. The time simply went on so fast when they were sitting together and….

“I honestly have no idea.”, she confessed.

“You two were just so taken with each other that you didn’t even notice how the time flies? Well, you know I would call that?”, Jean’s smirk was smug for a change, “I’d call it lo-…”

“Don’t.”, Mikasa interrupted him, “Don’t say that.”

“What? Why not? If you enjoyed his company so much then..”

“We talked, we fucked, that’s it. End. Over. Done.”

“Mikasa…”, Jean’s voice softened, “You haven’t been in a relationship since we broke up. Maybe you should stop sinking everything around you and give it a try.”

“There’s nothing to be given try to.”, she shook her head, “It was a one-night stand, that’s all.”

“I feel like you are unnecessarily hostile towards the idea. It didn’t work out for us, sure, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t find someone else.”

“I’m not going to stalk a guy just because he’s good at sex, that’s hardly a solid base.”

“Not all couples have a dreamy beginning. Remember how we started?”, Jean leaned on the wood, eyeing her face, “I saw you at high school, the goth girl sitting all alone, and I instantly thought that you are the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. So summoning all my courage, I walked up to you and told you that your hair looks beautiful. Do you remember what you answered?”

Mikasa couldn’t hold back her own smirk at this point, her and Jean’s first interaction was quite hilarious.

“I told you to fuck off.”

“See? Not ideal now was it.”, Jean tapped the wood with one finger, “But I didn’t stop, I just kept following you around and being a nuisance until you agreed to go on a date with me.”

“A decision I never came to regret.”, Mikasa smiled at him, “We had a good run, even if it ultimately didn’t work out.”

“I loved you as my girlfriend, and I love you still, as a friend. And I wish nothing more than to see you happy, Miks.”

“Can you stop being the overly nice ex for a minute.”, Mikasa massaged her temples, “Can we talk about something else? Please?”

“Fine.”, with a sigh, Jean collected the empty cup from her, setting it down behind the bar, “But you should really think about what I said.”

“I won’t.”, Mikasa claimed, unmoved, “I appreciate the advice but I’m sure I’ll forget about this soon enough.”

A week went by.

Then another.

She didn’t forget.

During her days, it was fine, as long as she kept herself busy Mikasa didn’t waste time with reminiscing. But evening and nights were bad, when she was alone the memories came flooding back, making her toss and turn on the bed, finding no rest. Jean’s words didn’t help either. But even if she wanted to find the guy, to talk to him again, she couldn’t. Eren left no trace behind, appearing and disappearing over the span of a few hours. She washed his scent from her skin, changed the bedsheets, and it was as if he was never even here. If only the memories would stop.

To suppress them, Mikasa spent most of her evenings drunk, indulging her alcoholism to the max. Jean didn’t comment on it, but the sideways glances he threw her way from time to time were enough to know that he didn’t approve of her coping method. Well if he was this judgmental, there was another way…

Jean didn’t seem much surprised when Mikasa came down one night just as the bar was closing, meaning that it was very early morning already. They often talked over a drink, about stuff that was happening. Mikasa talked about her fights, about her training, about Louise, while Jean would tell her how the bar is doing, how many new girls he met and some of the life stories he was told by the unfortunate souls who felt the need to confide in a bartender.

“We should hit the gym together more often,” Mikasa was just suggesting, making him laugh.

“I’d love to, but the bar isn’t going to open by itself.”

“You know, there’s a new workout I’ve been willing to try,” moving a bit closer, Mikasa eyed him up and down, “One I need a partner for.”

“Really?”, Jean was a bit taken aback by how much Mikasa was invading his personal space, “And what’s that?”

“This.”

And she kissed him. Reaching out to wrap Jean in an embrace, Mikasa pushed on, doing her best to get him to cooperate, but for some reason, his mouth was slack beneath hers. But then, finally, his hands came to rest on her shoulders and he, he…

Pushed her away.

“I know what you’re doing.”, Jean had sort of a melancholic smile, as he kept her at an arm’s length.

“Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it? You want to take this straight upstairs or…”, Mikasa looked around the empty bar, “We never christened this place properly. You could lay me across the counter and then…”

But Jean interrupted her before she could finish her sinful fantasies.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what’s the problem? Don’t you want to fuck me?”, sneaking one hand down Jean’s body, Mikasa moved her mouth to whisper into his ear, “Do you remember what you used to call me when we were dating? Do you?”

“I do.”, completely stoic, Jean reached down to take gentle hold of the hand that was making its way towards his crotch, lifting it to his lips instead, “I called you my dark princess.”

And with a fleeting kiss to her knuckles, Jean stood up, leaving Mikasa alone at the table. Crossing the distance to the counter, he leaned on it, turning to face her with the same sad expression. It only made her angrier.

“Jean, what the fuck is the problem? We are friends, right, can’t we be friends with benefits?”

“If you asked me this question back when we broke up, I’d definitely go along with it.”

That didn’t explain anything.

“Then what the fuck changed?”

He smiled, but there was no happiness in it.

“You met that guy.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re not trying to sleep with me just because of that act itself, you’re trying to do it to see if it helps you forget about him.”

“Bullshit…”, Mikasa whispered, but the blush on her cheeks betrayed the fact that Jean had guessed it perfectly.

“I just value our friendship too much to ruin it by this.”, Jean continued, “You know that it would only complicate things, for no good reason, right?”

“But…”

“There’s no need to pretend, Mikasa. Do I find you attractive? Of course, I do, you are damn beautiful, even if you don’t realize it. But am I willing to fuck over the thing we’ve been building for years just to get you to bed? No.”

“Fine…”

With a sigh, Mikasa stood up, heading towards the stairs without looking at Jean. She couldn’t bear his eyes, not after he shut her down this perfectly. Because every word he said was true.

“I’m going to sleep,”, she called over her shoulder, “Night Jean.”

His reply was something half-hearted, and Mikasa couldn’t even hear it properly as she made her way up the stairs and into the bed. This night, her sleep was once again restless.

And another week passed, gone in a dull grey mist that descended over everything.

“Oh! And he’s down again!”, the scream of the commentator was loud enough to pierce the cheering of the crowd, “After such hit, how will he ever recover?”

Dancing back, Mikasa cautiously watched her opponent on the other side of the cage, crumbled down into a shape on the ground. Her breathing was quick but steady, and the few bruises on her body that he managed to score didn’t even hurt. This match, as it looked, was safely hers, which meant that a bit of taunting was in order. These underground fights were basically like Rome colosseum, Levi always said, the more popular the gladiator the fatter the pay after each duel. And people loved a good show.

Raising her arms above her head, Mikasa faced the packed spectator seats, causing even more applause and cheering to erupt. She could see Louise, of course, the girl was bouncing in her seat and clapping wildly, eyes only for her idol. Levi was watching too, arms crossed on his chest, his scarred face not betraying any emotion.

“That’s right!”, Mikasa shouted, getting them even more ecstatic, “I’m the best!”, she hit her chest, “Me!”

Just at that moment, the cheering subsided and a wave or murmurs ran through the crowd.

“Oh? It looks like we have been celebrating too early!”, said the commentator’s voice.

Turning around, Mikasa could see that the guy was indeed picking himself up, standing on shaky legs.

“You fucking bitch….”, he growled through gritted teeth.

Looking him up and down, Mikasa saw that he had it bad. Eyes unfocused and watery, the muscles of his neck clenched, he was holding himself up by the sheer force of will, the trashing he got from her rather thorough.

“Dude, stay down.”, Mikasa advised him, in a much quieter voice, “It’s over.”

She had no problems beating people up, but this guy could be one of the cases that will just keep standing up until they are physically able to. Mikasa didn’t want to kill the guy, damn it.

“Shut the fuck up, jap whore.”, with a pained grin, he reached down to his shorts, “Let’s see how you like this.”

And he pulled out a fucking knife. Short, thin-bladed, but still a knife, glistening dangerously in the lights. The arena erupted. The cage fights had next to no rules, almost anything was allowed, but weapons were strictly forbidden. You could beat someone to death, and it happened a few times already, but you had to do it with your fists. Levi shouted something behind her, people screamed, but none of that mattered. She and the knife holding maniac were locked together in the cage, one that had no chance of opening quick enough for Mikasa to get any kind of help. She had to do this on her own.

For a man who was beaten half unconscious, he moved fast, closing the distance between them in a few short steps. And then he attacked. Short stabs, a slash, one dangerously close. Mikasa gave ground, retreated, looking for an opening, but then her back hit the steel bars of the cage. No more ground to give. Her opponent saw it, and with a maniacal glint in his eyes moved in for the kill. It was a good move, stab at her stomach, hard to miss and quickly executed. Yet Mikasa was faster. Moving with the hit, she jumped to the right, stepping forward at the same time and bringing her elbow down at his outstretched arm. He screamed in pain, but to her surprise didn’t let go of the knife, somehow keeping his grip. The second slash was wild, unprepared, and it caught her off guard. The blade slid along her forearm, leaving a red path in its wake. But the attacker paid for this by leaving himself completely open, and Mikasa took full advantage. The left hook was strong and quick, executed just in the right angle to land on his face, breaking the maniac’s nose and sending him flying at the same time. Falling on the ground with a thud, his body twitched but didn’t move anymore, and from how his eyes fluttered close, it was clear that Mikasa had finally knocked him out. And the crowds cheered once more.

“How did he get a fucking knife into the cage.”, Mikasa’s words were pained, pushed through her teeth while Levi examined the cut on her arm, “How?”

“I don’t know.”, face calm, her brother cleaned he blood before dabbing the wound with something that burned, most likely to prevent an infection. “But I will find out, I promise.”

Focusing on the pain instead, Mikasa closed her eyes, really wishing that she had something to drink. Like a bottle of scotch.

“Is it bad?”, she asked instead of thinking about alcohol.

“Not really. The cut isn’t very deep.”, nodding to himself, Levi continued, “Do you want me to get someone to stitch it for you?”

“No, I’m sick of this place. I’ll ask Jean to do it.”

They healed each other wounds in the army, and Mikasa saw no reason why Jean wouldn’t help her now. Not questioning her decision, Levi bandaged the arm. It gave her time to study her brother’s face. Mikasa was not the only one with scars in their family, Levi had his own, even worse than she. Right over one of his eyes, permanently closing it, and one of his hands was missing a finger, the middle one. Levi’s wounds didn’t happen in the army though. He was an underground fighter, before Mikasa, and the same as she, he was very, very good. Too good. And despite his height, Levi had his pride, which in the end was his downfall. In short, Levi was asked to lose a match, because the boss wanted him to, and he refused. In retaliation, he was ambushed in an alley, and multiple men with their own knives made sure that he got the message.

To everyone’s surprise, Levi didn’t disappear into some dark corner to lick his wounds, instead, he came back as Mikasa’s trainer, once again ruining everyone’s day with how unbeatable his sister was. It made the mafia respect him enough that they even indirectly apologized for what they’ve done to him, and assured Levi that nothing similar threatened him or Mikasa ever again. This meant that whoever orchestrated today’s accident, whoever helped the fighter smuggle in the knife, was at this very moment probably regretting his decision.

“And Levi?”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t have to look into this, I’m sure the mafia will clean up their own mess.”

“Someone tried to cut up my little sister.”, Levi’s voice was quiet, but it had a deadly threat in it, “I’m definitely making them pay.”

Standing up, he made his way to the door of Mikasa’s dressing room.

“You go back home and have Jean stitch you up.”, he said, right before leaving, “I’ll make sure that his incident will never repeat itself.

And he was gone, leaving Mikasa with a slightly itchy arm and no answers.

Something was wrong. Mikasa could see it as soon as she entered the bar, Jean’s posture just gave it away. And when she came closer with a question clearly written in her face, the bartender answered it for her.

“He’s back.”

They both knew who the “He” is. Eren sat at the same table as last time, with a drink in front of him, once again looking up as Mikasa neared him.

“Care to join me?”, he asked with a smile, holding up his glass, “I’m willing to buy you a drink again.”

Sliding into the offered seat, Mikasa patted her pockets, searching and finding a pack of cigarettes and lighting one up. Seeing how Eren eyed the box, she offered him one too, but he shook his head.

“I quit.”

“Suit yourself.”

Taking a drag to calm her nerves, Mikasa blinked a few times, doing her best to ignore the pain her arm.

“I’m going to guess that you are here to see me, right?”, she began.

“Maybe I’m just here for the drinks.”, Eren argued, but from his tone, Mikasa knew he was joking.

“I doubt that. And considering that I’m part owner, I do have certain authority on that subject.”

“All right, you got me.”, Eren picked up his glass, “I’m here to see you.”

Mikasa had to get rid of him, and fast, considering that her arm was still bleeding and overall she felt like shit. Being attacked by a knife didn’t really set the right mood. So, pulling out her best resting bitch face, she went on.

“Well, too bad, because I’m not in the mood today.”

Eren arched an eyebrow at that.

“Not in the mood for me?”

“Not in the mood to fuck.”, she corrected him, “That’s why you’re here, no? To fuck?”

“That’s a bit jumping to a conclusion.”, Eren wasn’t that unbalanced by her bluntness as Mikasa hoped, keeping his cool, “In fact, I’m here to talk.”

Right, like she believed that. But the sooner she lets him say his piece, the sooner she can tell him to fuck off. Dragging another smoke from the cigarette, Mikasa nodded at him.

“Talk then.”

Leaning forward, Eren put his hands on the table, serious for a change.

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you, last time we met. You see…”, holding out his right hand, he made sure that Mikasa saw that band of gold on his finger that surely wasn’t there last time around, “I have to tell you something. I’m married.”

Mikasa stared at him, at that ring, wondering why the hell did that piece of information made her feel so squished around the heart. If she felt like shit before, now she felt like a double shit, and the needles that prickled her skin weren’t helping. It just didn’t make sense. What did it matter to her that he was married, why should she care? And why the fuck did she feel like crying all of a sudden? Pushing all those negative emotions back, Mikasa kept her face without expression, shrugging.

“So?”

That finally broke his cool.

“Well, I mean…”, Eren scratched the back of his head, the uncaring attitude not the one he was expecting.

“I don’t give a fuck that you’re married, it’s your problem that you’re cheating on your wife, not mine.”, Mikasa pressed on.

“I…”

He was close to the breakpoint, close to just getting up and leaving, so Mikasa continued.

“What’s wrong? Now what you were expecting?”, she let her lips curve into a cruel smile, “Or are you just sad that your wife doesn’t make your cock hard like I do, sad that…Ah…”

Whatever she wanted to say was lost, because her damn arm chose just that moment to bring itself back to life, the painkillers she took to survive the bike ride here apparently running out. With a curse, Mikasa clutched her arm, baring her teeth against the pain.

“Mikasa? What’s wrong?”, Eren’s tone changed completely, the surprise replaced by something that sounded like genuine concern, “Are you hurt?”

“I-I’m fine…”, she growled but wasn’t fooling anyone.

“You’re holding your arm.”, he observed, “Can I help?”

“No, you can’t.”, Mikasa was angry, hurt, and just wanted that guy who kept messing with her head fucking gone already, “Unless you are a doctor, I don’t see how you could.”

For some damned reason, that made him smile.

“As chance would have it, I am a surgeon.”

Well, that answered her question of what he was doing for a living.

“A surgeon huh? Well…”

Yes, Mikasa just wanted to send him to seven hells, but her arm hurt like shit and only a stupid person would refuse the help of a professional. So, instead of telling him to fuck off, as intended, they once again ended in her room, sitting on her bed, while Eren gently took off her jacket.

“You should take off your shirt, the blood…”, he began but was promptly cut off.

“I’m not taking my shirt off.”, Mikasa shook her head, “Out of the question.”

The scars were still there, last time she checked.

“But…”

“No buts.”

Eren signed, rubbing his forehead.

“Fine, have it your way.”

Then, blessedly, he finally shut his mouth and got to work. Mikasa couldn’t deny that Eren knew what he was doing, his stitches were neat and fast, and before she realized it he was done, once again covering her arm in a clean bandage. But it was getting dangerous, the proximity, the body heat she felt radiating from him, bringing back the memories of their night together. His smell was intoxicating too, although Mikasa couldn’t recognize it, and she found herself dreaming. How would Eren respond if she asked him to spend the night with her? Nothing would have to happen, they could just lay down on the bed together, cuddle and…

No. She slapped herself, mentally, cursing her own naivety. A single glance on her scars would send him running, and to add insult to injury, he was married. Damn it, Eren only came here because he was bored of his wife or some shit, maybe she had a headache often and it sent him out in hunt of a more willing pussy. She was a broken woman, he was an unfaithful bastard, and that was it. Nothing will ever happen between them, nothing, so stop fucking lying to yourself, you dumb bitch.

“It should be fine now.”, he said, standing up from the bed, “But if something hurts or…”

“Nothing will hurt, I’m fine now.”, Mikasa jerked her chin towards the door, “You can go now.”

“I…”

“Just leave, okay?”

“Right...”, he made a step towards the door, but then as if he remembered something, Eren fished in his pocket, pulling out a business card.

“A precaution, all right?”, he set it down on her table, “If anything unusual happens, call me.”

Almost out of her room, between the door, Eren was stopped by Mikasa who finally remembered her manners. She should probably thank the man who stitched her up so nicely.

“Eren?”

He stopped.

“Yes?”

“Thank you. I…Ehm… I appreciate it.”

Eren smiled at her, and for some reason it made Mikasa feel all warm inside.

“Don’t mention it.”

And then he was gone, just like last time, yet with one significant difference. This time, he left behind his card, and picking it up, Mikasa finally learned the good doctor’s surname. The man who was supposed to be just a night one stand and turned into a much more complicated thing had a full name.

Eren Yeager, his name was Eren Yeager.

[skvaderarts]

Apocrypha Chapter Twenty Four: Discretion

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Twenty Four: Discretion

Notes: I’ve just gotta say, I LOVE the comments that I got on the last chapter! Jokes on YOU, I’m crying too! I just use humor to mask my pain like Dante because it’s my only coping method! I’m worried about V, too and I wrote this shit! *Cry laughing*. Oh I’m so sorry, V. Please forgive me!

(-~-)

The coming storm built up momentum as it coated the forest below in a heavy layer of fog and rain. The air cooled down considerably as the minutes ticked by, night settling in earnest across the region and somehow making it even more difficult to see. As he neared the edge of the clearing to make a timely rondevu with the rest of the team, Griffon couldn’t help but shake his head at the insanity unfolding before him. If he strained the reaches of his subconscious, he could swear that he could still hear Nero and Vergil protesting V’s proposal, the plan seemingly unfathomable to them. 

While the concept was sound, the actual execution of the plan depended upon variables that none of them could control. While Nero was a bit more flexible in terms of ideas presented to him, Vergil couldn’t claim anything of the sort. Minimizing dependence on outside factors was quite literally a way of life for him, and the idea that the lives of either of his sons could fall into that category practically made his blood boil. But V’s counter-argument had been difficult to turn down, especially with the prospect of being rid of the cult forever on the table. It all came down to Vergil’s willingness to tolerate a plan that he despised, but he agreed to do so against his better judgement. At the end of the day, this was the best overall method of thinning out the ranks and being free of this threat for the foreseeable future.

At least Vergil still got to cut down his enemies…

Griffon landed with a firm thud, shaking rain droplets off of the tree as he came to a stop before the rest of the group. Being the only one who was experienced with a weapon who they could afford to spare, Nico had volunteered to get everyone out of town and onto the train. She had her own undisclosed plans as to how she intended to accomplish this that she wasn’t disclosing, but that was her primary objective overall. The last two days had been a refreshing change of pace, but there was no way in hell they were staying in town with the potential things had for going catastrophically wrong. While the young mechanic doubted that the city would end up under a pile of ash and rubble like Redgrave City had, she still thought that it was a good idea to round up Patty, Kyrie, and the children and skip town. And it was an idea that the rest of the team wholeheartedly supported. Having bystanders in the line of fire was never a good policy, especially when those bystanders were family.

They were in unfamiliar territory, and fixing that as quickly as possible was a solid idea. As soon as Lady and Trish had returned from escorting Patty and Nico to the relative safety of the hotel, they would return to help back up the rest of the team. But for the moment, Griffon had the stage, and his audience was what remained of Sparda’s descendants. Well, at least those of them that were present.

“Oh boy, I don’t like anything about this plan.” The vibrant blue bird said as he shook his head, totally unsure as to how the situation he currently found himself in was going to pan out,” I got out of there just in time. That cult made off with V right after I left. I heard them say something about taking him back to their base. It has to be that cave, right?”

Dante shrugged, totally unsure as to what was going on. All he knew was that Nero had bolted back into the clearing at top speed with Vergil behind him and that his older twin looked less than pleased about whatever had happened back there. He’d stepped away for a moment to figure out where they had disappeared to, casually mentioning that he was going to figure out where they’d gone. But when Nero had returned with more than a few cuts and bruises, and V hadn’t returned at all, Dante knew that something was terribly wrong. 

Vergil was clearly on edge, despite the fact that he was doing an excellent job of hiding it from everyone around him. Well, everyone but Dante. The younger of the two knew his older twin’s mannerisms far too well for that to sway him. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but agree with the wiley bird’s assessment of the situation they currently found themselves in. The youngest Son of Sparda had precisely no idea what had happened back there and the same amount of input in the plan, but he knew that he was a part of it and he’d take the opportunity to rip Vergil a new one about it after V was safe. 

As much as he’d like to tell his frigid twin off for not explaining things to him, a part of him was actually happy that he knew he could depend on him to help him, even without asking him first. Even if Dante would have preferred that they discuss things beforehand, he was relieved to know that Vergil finally trusted him to some measurable degree. He’d been on the fence about it for a long time.

“So what’s the plan then?” Dante asked, looking over his twin pistols idly. He wasn’t so much checking their condition as he was trying to find something to do to occupy his wandering mind.” I mean, there is a plan, right?”

Griffon shrugged, flapping his wings. He was honestly just as lost as Dante was. “Your guess is as good as mine. V didn’t explain the fine details to me. He just sort of does things sometimes and I just go along with them. All he had to say was that “everything was going according to plan”. Cryptic little brat.”

Both Dante and Nero were willing to agree with that statement. Sometimes V really did do things that made them consider that fact that he might be slightly unhinged. Vergil folded his arms, clearly unamused with the entire situation. Did they really have time for pleasantries and small talk considering the situation?

“I assume he sent you to lead us back?” Vergil said as he stepped towards the edge of the woods. He didn’t strictly need the rest of them to come with him. He’d found the cave once, and he’d find it again. He had to.” That part of the forest is thick with dark magic and, as such, is incredibly difficult to navigate. Having an aerial view would be advantageous.”

Griffon nodded and took off towards the sky, double checking the trajectory they needed to follow. Vergil addressing him wasn’t something he was used to, and he got the distinct impression that Vergil was only doing so to further his own goals. Luckily for both of them, they were on the same wavelength in that regard. Everyone present wanted nothing more than to help facilitate V’s safe return and take down the cult that had seemingly developed an unhealthy fascination with him since his return from the underworld. If Griffon could help in some way, then they were glad for it. But how long could the blue bird stay away from his master?

“Well, let’s get out of here then. We can talk on the way, right?” Nero said as he followed after Vergil. “Wasting time here talking when we don’t know what they have planned isn’t going to get us anywhere or help V.” 

Dante returned his guns to the holsters and nodded in conformation. Nero made a good point. Their limbs and mouths worked in tandem. Why not use them that way? V was skilled at adjusting to difficult situations, but if the cult had magic and demons at their disposal, who knew what they could be capable of. The longer they spoke, the more Dante got the feeling that he understood the premise of the plan. And the less he liked some of the finer details of it. Giving the cult exactly what they were looking for was a good way to gain access to their domain, but to what end? How did that benefit them? After all, there was no way that Vergil and Nero would've accidentally left him behind. As he entered the forest behind them, Dante took one last look at the peaceful clearing behind them. He had to agree with Griffon. This particular mission had “bad news” written all over it.

(-~-)

Panic worry and calm vigilance melded into one tense atmosphere as everyone packed their bags in a blind rush in anticipation for the trip home. While they were shaving off almost an entire day from their trip, no one had the time to worry themselves with such trivial concerts and they rolled their belongings into messy tubes and tossed them into their suitcases. They could do this again somewhere else at a later date, but they had to live that long first. 

Lady and Trish watched the door to the room with a level of professionalism born of the kind of experience that came with a lifetime of fighting the denizens of the underworld. Under no circumstances were they going to let anything harm their companions, human or otherwise. While it was true that they didn’t tangle with humans very often and normally stuck to the more overtly demonic cases, they had been forced to take up arms against less demonic foes in the past. The only thing worse than fighting a crafty demon was fighting one that was backed by an intelligent human.

Hopefully this subsect of the cult wasn’t very smart.

“Look, Love, all you need to do is make it to the train station and head back to town. I’ll be there to back you up as soon as you arrive.” Magnolia said firmly from the other end of the phone. There was no questioning the honesty and seriousness from which her statement had been spawned.” I protect my own, and those cultists are going to rue the day they threatened you sweet girls. Stay safe until then!”

Nico nodded in agreement, not considering the fact that the older woman couldn’t see her from this end of the phone. She still had Magnolia’s number in her pocket from the card she’d given Nero before they had departed back to Fortuna with V. The young mechanic wasn’t entirely sure if she was stepping out of line by asking for help, and she didn’t care. Anything that kept the people she cares about safe was a win in her book, and she trusted Magnolia. All she could hope for was that they would arrive back in town safely and that the botanist didn’t have to reopen any existing injuries to save them. Nico didn’t know if she could live with any untimely deaths on her conscience, especially when it was someone who had shown her nothing but kindness. That, and Magnolia was basically Vergil’s only friend. Getting her killed was bound to have negative consequences.

“Don’t work about it, Magnolia. We're gonna leave here as soon as I get off the phone with ya. The train ride is only a couple of hours. Seeya then!” Nico said, trying her best to sound confident and sure of herself. She wasn’t lying, but she did have her reservations. She could practically feel Magnolia’s concerned smile through the phone as she wished her a safe trip and hung up, leaving Nico holding the receiver with nothing but the sound of the dial tone to keep her company. All she could do now was hope for the best and do what she could to help everyone get out of there safe. The gunsmith sighed and turned to the rest of the group, pleased to find that they were all packed and ready to head out. All she could do now was hope that the cultists didn’t know who they were.

“Is everyone ready to go?” Trish asked, giving the room a once over. Lady unfolded her arms and reached down to grab her luggage bag. She shared a similar sentiment. The trip had been fun, but she was ready to get the hell out of there and back to a more familiar place. At least she would have an advantage to use against her opponents back in Dante’s stomping grounds.

Everyone nodded or vocalized in agreement, trying their best to hide their uncertainty. The children were too little to comprehend the danger they were in, and to a certain degree, they were glad for that. The last thing anyone wanted was for the children to have another thing to keep them up at night.

“Yea, were good. Let’s get outta here! The train is gonna be here in like twenty minutes!” Nico said as she helped grab the bags and herd the children towards the door. Someone was going to have to pick Carlo up to keep him from lagging behind or wandering off in the commotion. She just hoped it would be someone else. She didn’t have a hand to spare.

“Okay then! You head down towards the lobby. Trish will lead the way and I’ll cover your backs. Let’s get out of here before they find us.” Lady stood out of the way and allowed Trish to leave the room, followed closely by Kyrie, Patty, Nico, and the children. Moving with a group this large was going to be a challenge.” Paying repair fees to the hotel is not going to be the thing that finally sends me into bankruptcy. Let’s get out of here in one piece, okay?”

As soon as the room was empty, Lady closed the door behind them and bolted after the rest of the group. The only straightforward path in the entire place was the route down to the lobby. If they could make it down there and out of the building, all they had to do was go a handful of blocks up the street. Then they were home free. And she was going to make sure they got there in one piece. She’d never be able to face Nero again if something happened to Kyrie or the kids, and Dante would literally go to hell and back for Patty. She couldn’t let her family down.

(-~-)

“Why are there always so many people willing to jump at the opportunity to join some sort of sinister death cult?!” Nero said as he kicked one of the cultists in the chest, knocking them off the side of the cliff they were facing towards. They wouldn’t need to worry about that guy anymore. “Like, where do all these idiots keep coming from?! Is there a super villain lackey shop or something?!”

“Because it is the nature of humans to seek power beyond their current threshold, and they latch onto those that promise to deliver that to them.” Vergil said as he came to a stop, sheathing Yamato. Half a dozen cultists that he had taken off guard toppled over in a very upsetting way, clearly no longer a factor in the current battle. “All one must do to gain the trust of another is promise them something they do not currently possess that they seek to acquire, and many will see that as enough justification to commit unspeakable atrocities.”

Nero raised an eyebrow, giving Vergil a sideways look before turning to face Dante. “Care to translate, Dante? Your brother is speaking another language again!” 

The youngest Son of Sparda had just finished off his opponent’s summon and was pursuing them. The hooded man was spouting some indecipherable nonsense about something he didn’t care to understand and throwing everything between them at the red coat wearing devil hunter in an attempt to slow his approach. In a way, Dante pitied them. They seemed to be clearly out of their minds, the presence of so much demonic power and the toll of summoning so many demons with so little training had clearly robbed them of their humanity and their sentience. All that was left of them were the shells of what had once been people. But now they were twisted beyond recognition. Despite the fact that they were human, they were more akin to a demon than any pure blooded human should be. He’s seen powerful pure blood demons that could easily pass as more human than these poor husks pretending to be living beings. No. They were like worker ants, more akin to the Empusa than anything from the human world that wasn’t an insect ought to be. And he needed to find out who the leader of the hive was and give them a heavy dose of insect repellent.

Whoever was in charge of this cult needed to be stopped before any more lives were ruined.

“You think I know? I wasn’t really listening! Nothing Vergils says makes sense to me.” Dante said as he closed in on the cultist and finished him off quickly. No need to drag things out. His life had clearly been filled with enough suffering. No need to rub salt in his wounds.” Something about how it’s easy to deceive despirate people into doing stupid things for you, if I was going to make an educated guess. Why don’t you ask him?”

Vergil finished off the last of the demons, grabbing one of the cultists around the collar and slamming him into a nearby tree with enough force to shatter both him and the sturdy oak in two. They groaned and shook their head, clearly dazed.

“You're going to tell me where the rest of your ilk took him, or things will not end well for you.” Vergil said sternly, making eye contact with the young man in the hood.” My companions are patent. I am much less so. Do not test me.”

The younger man stared at him, clearly intimidated. “ B-but Agreus will kill me if he finds out I said anything! I can’t!”

”Yes, I’m quite sure he will. That is not my problem. You should’ve put more care into who you trusted in the first place.” Vergil gave him a sideways glance, allowing a hint of his demonic power to manifest in the form of his eyes flashing an eerie red for a moment.” But I am here now, and while he might kill you, I assure you that if any harm should come to my son, you will wish that was all I did. There are worse fates. Trust me.”

A visible look of horrified shock crossed the cultist as his blood ran ice cold. It was evident to anyone that could see him that he took Vergil’s threat to heart. With a sigh, he raised a shaky hand and pointed in the direction of the cave, barely hiding his worry. In that moment, he was more afraid of Vergil than he had been of anything in his entire short life. Not only was he sure that the Darkslayer could kill him, he knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

“Follow that p-path towards the interior of the cave. The part you can see here is only the mouth of a greater cavern that stretches several miles under the forest. At the end of the left fork is the cave you're looking for. You can’t miss it! They took him that way, I swear! Something about Master Agreus wanting to understand “what the dark lord saw in him”. I don’t think they plan to kill him, though. No. Master Agreus might be our leader, but he answers to a much higher power. A terrifying power. And that power is what is after that kid. We just do what they tell us to. I’m sorry, I didn’t know they would do something like this. I didn’t sign up to kidnap people! None of us did.”

Vergil yanked the younger man away from the tree and forced him in the direction of the woods before releasing him with a forceful shove. The younger man glanced at him for a moment, wrapped in confusion as the Darkslayer allowed Yamato’s blade to peak out of its scabbard. “Leave before I come to my senses.”

“Your… not going to kill me?” The older teen asked, clearly shocked by his decision. If he had been in Vergil’s place, he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done to the man who had helped kidnap his child.” What if I’m lying.”

“Then you're a fool and you should spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder for me. Now go before I bathe my blade in your blood and leave your corpse here for the wolves.” Vergil said, far beyond the limit of his patience. Was this foolish boy actually going to stand there and look a gift horse in the mouth? Humans were truly something else…

“T-thank you! I hope you find him.” The young man said as he took off running in the direction of the forest. Vergil doubted his ability to navigate in the vast darkness, but he’d made his way out there so there was no way of knowing. Regardless, he was no longer the eldest Son of Sparda’s problem. As the young man disappeared into the darkness, Vergil turned in the direction of the cave and his two companions, both of which seemed genuinely surprised at his decision. Vergil half groaned and passed them, heading into the cave. Dante and Nero shared a glance at one another before following him.

“So Vergil, why didn’t you…” Dante started, unsure of how to approach the topic in a way that wouldn’t reignite his twin’s barely contained blood lust. It seemed that his older brother possessed more restraint than he gave him credit for.

Vergil stopped for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at Nero. While his response was a result of Dante’s inquiry, his response was meant more for his youngest son than his twin brother. “... I don’t kill children, Dante. I see no need to elaborate further.”

With that, Vergil continued towards their objective. It had been entirely too long since they had heard from Griffon, and Vergil was admittedly concerned for what that might mean for his oldest child. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and as such, Vergil loathed the fact that he had agreed to go along with this foolish plan. But he felt the need to allow Nero and V to prove that they were as capable as he believed them to be. After all, they were descendants of Sparda and they had worked together to bring him down in Redgrave City. Not just anyone was capable of doing something like that.

He just hoped they would all survive long enough to regret what they had done.

(-~-)

Oh, the last two three chapters have been a blast to write! This is the kind of melodramatic shit I live for! Thank you so much for reading this chapter and have an awesome day! I’m thrilled that you’ve all stuck around this long. Thanks for all the love!