#but i wrote a new mini angst fic last night so this one had to get posted to keep the number in my google drive the same | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alluringjae · 3 years

Text

until dawn; pt. II - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 12.2k

⤑ genre: ANGST, fluff, romance, smut (f receiving, dom!jeno waow, dirty talk, wrap it everyone) | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, enemies to lovers!au, college!au, night at the museum-inspired!au

⤑ warnings: references to actual historical figures, explicit language, graphic details, major heartbreak caused by another party, expect time jumps too

⤑ author’s note: happy jeno day!! i’ve been so excited to post this part, and i’m happy we’re here!! perhaps, this is the last long fic i’ll write for a while so i can rest, but i’ll still be posting short stories within the weeks to come! i’m excited for may to say the least hehe

btw, for the smut scene (indicated with **), i highly recommend you listen to strange (feat. hillary smith) by kris bowers!! this song is from the bridgerton soundtrack, and oh man, the feels!!

with that, enjoy!

italicized text either means they are personal notes or flashbacks.

this was meant to be more angsty, but either way, i screamed every time i wrote something gut-wrenching.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome

⤑ ctto above!!

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!

“You ready to get your butt beaten by me, Lee?”

“Prepare your final words when I win instead, (Y/L/N).”

Mischievous banter exchanged between you two became a new norm. Almost every night, someone within the art pieces established a contest over anything and it released the competitive sides of you two. So far, Jeno has been winning. Not like it hurt your pride, but maybe just once, you could conquer one game to feel better. Not only that, there’s a mini penalty for the loser. So far, you’ve cleaned up the lobby yourself and acted cutely to everyone the entire evening (or aegyo as Jeno called it).

Tonight, a game of archery was held by the Greek gods. They pushed away any extra pieces away, leaving the whole room vacant with two boards right beside Zeus’ throne. Numerous arrows were produced and sharpened, Zeus in the center announced to everyone participating.

“It’ll be 1 on 1 games. First to go are Jeno vs (Y/N), followed by Athena vs. Hermes, Cleopatra vs. Freddie, and last would be Hades vs Aphrodite.”

Cutting the chase, you didn’t expect Jeno to be that good at archery. Sure, he told you that he took classes with his friends for fun when he was younger, though it showed that he’s a fast learner and even hit one bullseye in the middle of the game.

Not slightly threatened until the last rounds, you fixed your aim and lessened your overthinking when preparing to shoot. Thus, you scored 2 bullseyes shot. It was a close fight, having the audience on the edge on their feet again because it’s the two of you. Your dynamic with the night guard always elevated the mood, shifting their bets over and over again.

By 1 point, you received your first victory against Jeno. Unlike you, he showcased his sportsmanship sweetly without any comments of disbelief. He’s never bragged about anything big in his life, not unless it’s a high grade for his plate. Normally, he celebrated wins in a laid-back manner. But don’t be fooled: he loves giving penalties.

“This is why I don’t make bets with my friends because I really go for their weak spots.”

“You’re cynical, Lee Jeno.”

“Only if you’re close to me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Aren’t we already past that stage?”

Almost halfway through his job, he sustained a meaningful friendship with you. Out of everyone, you were his default person to hang out within the nights he had a shift. If he wasn’t present, he made sure to give you small treats or gifts as much as possible. An innocent friendship, it was that the world would’ve never believed in.

Or was it?

“To celebrate your win, what do you want me to do?”

“You’re too kind for me to play around with, even if you’re the complete opposite of me.”

“I’ll make it simple and worthwhile since I don’t know when I’ll win a game again.” As your finger tapped your temple as you pondered deeply, a smart idea came through. “Grant me 3 wishes.”

He chuckled, lowering himself to view you better. “Am I like some genie now to you?”

“No room to complain, I won, didn’t I?” You grinned, raising one brow to show your dominance.

“You’re petty in your own way, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. Now come on, I want to use my first wish.” You shrugged it off like no big deal, loving the high feeling of triumph. You lead him to the center of the lobby, where a beautiful grand piano only selected people get to play during exhibits. “Open the museum piano.”

Ever since you were brought to life, you never used it. Tempting but because people from the outside might here, maybe it’s time to try something new. A new challenge, and besides, you missed entertaining people through it. The last time you touched the delicate piano keys was to your family before you ran away.

It’s a good thing that in the shackle of keys Jeno held, the needed key was there. Unlocking the lustrous black instrument, you sat by the matching black bench. Crackling your fingers, you tested by pressing a few keys to get the hang of it again.

“What are you planning to play, (Y/N)?” Jeno leaned against the side, his arms crossed.

Humming the first notes of your piece, the nostalgia ran through your veins. “Nocturne No. 2 in E flat by Chopin.”

Your fingers took off and played each chord slowly and calmly. This piece reminded you the most of your mother, who sat by the couch in front of your old piano with your father while guests from the party they hosted crowded around you. Being the youngest, they often requested you to perform as entertainment so you always put your best foot forward. Or so you tried.

Nevertheless, no one else in your family was capable to play this piece as perfectly as you. By the way your eyes closed and your body swayed to the mellow tune, Jeno observed how you memorized this piece by heart. A passionate flame you were, outshining every pianist out there.

He wasn’t surprised at how multi-talented you were, though there’s a different kind of aura you present when you played the instrument. From your hard and tough front, you could be soft and sweet to the right people.

In a way, you showed your comfort toward the boy by serenading him with the piano. Sketching him with him in the past was one thing, but this was another. You’d sketch with people you’ve grown used to, but you play piano to people you want to cherish in your life. As dangerous as it seems, Jeno was someone special to you, only wanting to have good moments with him.

Junmyeon will always have a huge part in your museum life, but Jeno filled the emptiness that he left behind. This loneliness for a human friend vanquished thanks to Jeno, and you didn’t want to jeopardize it at all. Sure, whenever he acted like a gentleman around you, let you inside the Foreign Art Room, or brought you food sometimes, you couldn’t help feel honored.

Though lately, every time he showed off his strength when he defeated Zeus and Hades during an arm wrestle game the god held again. You seriously had to catch a breath at every flex his arms made, like the goddesses. Maybe how he pushed his black hair back when he’s drawing another plate, you’d give yourself a few extra seconds to see his long fingers skim through them. He’d bit his lower lip when he’s in too deep with his creativity, wondering if he’d bite the lower lip of the girl he’d ki-

All right, (Y/N), relax. Maybe you’re thinking this way because it’s been decades since your last relationship. You wouldn’t want to fall for another possible trap and hurt yourself again, right?

Ever since this job, Jeno’s university life drastically changed. Yes, he still hung out with his friends and performed extremely well in his classes, though he prioritized anything related to the museum wherever he was. If they were drinking out, he’d buy an extra bottle of soju for you on his way back to the dorm. Rarely does he get shitfaced anyways.

If he and Renjun visited the bookstore to purchase pens or any art-related materials, he always bought either an extra sketchpad or set of pens. Even if you were simply a figure to everyone else, he appreciated the bond you both developed.

Every night, he’d tell you about his day from the start. Normally, it consisted of a lot of schoolwork and coffee, some stories about his roommates too. Speaking of them, he’d insert a lot of humorous words about his entire group of friends, whom you learned their names too.

Mark, Jaemin, Renjun, Jisung, Chenle, and Donghyuck, each of them presented a different color in their group. Jeno, who’d admitted to being shy and quiet, grew out of his shell because of them. A friend of Jeno’s would automatically be a friend of yours, if only you were allowed to leave the museum or become a human.

Jeno learned more about your past explorations that never got documented because you no longer had an interest in jotting them down. They were adventures you’d kept to yourself, memories only close to you then would know. Except now, Jeno was another addition. You’re not the type to instantly open to people, though again, a sense of relief surrounded him every time you encounter each other. It grew gradually like a warm hug, softening your heart and breaking your walls.

The more he spent time with you, nothing feared Jeno the slightest. He’s always maintained himself intact, avoiding lines to be crossed and giving respect to those who deserve it. However, he began to question himself where exactly his feelings lie with you after Jaemin tried to set him up on a blind double date just so the best friend of his date wouldn’t feel left out.

He’s rarely one to get crushes on people, even when other girls in his college openly showed their affection towards him. Valentine’s Day or his birthday, several girls sent him chocolate or flowers. Jaemin and Renjun got sick of girls reaching out to them first so they could reach him. It’s not because he’s not the dating type, but because he’s so goal-oriented that unlike his roommates, he doesn’t have a slight clue about dating.

Though one-night stands while at a party and dating were completely different, he’d still say he had experience with girls. Plus having an older sister, he never took advantage of them. He’d rather tell them in person that the feelings weren’t mutual than ghosting them. He’s not like Jaemin anyways.

With that, he’s so lost when his heart beats twice as fast the second you’ve woken up from your posing slumber. He doesn’t comprehend how flustered he’d be when you highly insist to help him with his plate or how cute he finds it when you’re playing fetch with Mochi. On top of it, when you chose to sketch each other for one of your sketching sessions, he’d take a longer stare at your visage before he drew some strokes.

A lot of historical accounts mentioned how your beauty was the standard of the Victorian era, wherein you were the jewel of your neighborhood and numerous men wanted your hand. Women envied you, especially having high intelligence skills that were equivalent to a man. That time, that felt like a threat to most men. Though surprisingly, it turns out there were men who liked intelligent girls.

Jeno knew he liked you as a friend, though liking you past that he didn’t intend. Nor was it allowed because it’ll break one of the golden rules. Before he’d go beyond contemplating, he had to stop himself. This was so unlike him. The feelings will fleet away, he’d repeat to himself. Don’t waste a great friendship because of your silly emotions.

Individually, both of you swallowed these harboring feelings down your guts and simply kept your friendship status safe. Doing your typical activities or whatever else you could think of, none of you minded to change it whatsoever.

Unknown to you though, it was obvious to the other art pieces ones that you two practically passed off as young lovers. Although they know that pushing one towards the other went against the rules, Aphrodite begged to differ.

“Holding them back from expressing what they really feel just because of the law here is a tragedy. They should at least try, you know?”

On another typical night, Jeno invited you to the Theater Room for a movie marathon. After finding out that you’ve never seen any moving pictures, he wanted to be there to introduce it. Luck was on his side to not have plates or requirements due for the week and everyone was behaving themselves, so he started with rolling out short films from the 88mm projector. Having premade popcorn and drinks, the two of you shared roars of laughter and emotional tears.

Switching to the cd player for longer and clearer films, you’d opt to believe that you were born at the wrong time. With all these advancements, it came with a lot of new beliefs. One of them was allowing women to study and work. Then again, she was a pioneer according to historians. Without her, it wouldn’t help shape society as it is today.

Nonetheless, this movie Jeno played on the big screen was what he defined as “one of the classics”, 10 Things I Hate About You.

This outspoken character named Kat was presenting a poem to her class, trying to hold in her raw emotions towards Patrick, the boy who broke her heart. Too engaged, you didn’t notice how Jeno stretched his arms out so he could wrap one around your shoulder. Not that you were complaining, his warmth reassuring you safety.

“I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.” The way she attempted to keep her strong ground only reminded you of where you were weeks ago, especially once she excruciatingly broke down.

“I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” Only when you leaned back to the chair, you felt his arm. His thumb caressing your covered shoulder, you peeked him a little bit. His eyes fixated on the screen, absorbed in the acting and how Kat’s tears weren’t scripted as she stormed out of the classroom.

Not that you were her, but it sparked the past memory of how you merely disliked him because of his job. But as a person, not even close, not even once did you hate him. How blessed that he never judged you for it, staying patient all this time.

Right before he could look back at you, you moved your face back to resume your watching. Jeno definitely noticed what you did, though not sure as to why. Whatever it was, it wasn’t harmful.

Once the film ended, Jeno checked his watch for the time. 4 am, he wanted to do something else now instead of film viewing. You were on par with it, wanting to walk it out after being seated for hours. As you both cleaned up and bid the posters outside goodbye, the doors to the museum were locked unexpectedly. Impossible on Jeno’s half because he had the keys for every room, but he double-checked his bunch.

Alas, the keys for these doors specifically were missing. But there was no other way anyone could’ve gotten it, plus it’s not like the last person he talked to, which was Aphrodite, would need it.

Or did she?

Rather than putting any blame on each other, your only wish now was to return to your section before sunrise. You and he could just relax momentarily before yelling for help.

“Maybe we should watch another film first?”

“Alright, you choose while I return the rest.”

As Jeno inserted the cd of Cinema Paradiso inside, the background music of the opening played. He hummed the first notes, already feeling the love from this film. Another must-see classic as recommended by Renjun, he wanted to rewatch it with you.

Slowly returning each cd and film roll to their respective drawers, the melodious theme had you waltzing in the small space. Even beyond your life, classical music never gets old. Aging like fine wine, sounding spectacular as time passes because of people’s creativity.

Jeno gazed over your sudden movements, smiling uncontrollably at how immersed you were as you multi-tasked. However, you took a wrong turn by the desk and almost dropped a priceless film roll. But before you fully slipped and fell, a pair of strong arms caught you at the right time. Panting from the nerves, mostly when he was inches from your face. Never has he pressed his body this close to you to protect you, and never have you seen his captivating eyes this up close.

As enchanting as the background music of Ennio Morricone was, it only became noise once Jeno took ahold of the film roll on your hand and placing down on the desk. Taking another step closer, you were backed up by the edge. Not to mention how his height dignified his impact on you, your arms were still situated by your side with nowhere else to go.

That was until his finger elevated your chin so he could meet you on eye-to-eye level. His other hand gripping your waist, you became brave enough to place your hands by his broad shoulders. Licking your lips, you glanced at his lips quickly. But he noticed it, and as risky as this was, it was a leap of faith to take.

“May I kiss you?”

Always such a gentleman, even when he already knew how much you desired him through your returning affections. Calming your breath patterns by the speed of everything occurring, you came back to your senses. He’s the one who constantly told you not to forget your roots, so you were going to take this one.

You trust him, and he does too.

“Yes.”

Since the first film, some kind of tension increased the closer he moved or intimate his actions were towards you. You kept pushing it back in hopes not to ruin what you both have. But it only turned out to be mutual, especially how none of you held back as soon as his lips passionately clashed yours.

Tangling your arms around his neck, you stood on your tiptoes to press even closer to him. Feeling his lively heart pumping against your hollow chest, you bit his lower lip. Something you’ve secretly craved to do, he growled from the pleasure. He hoisted your waist to the desk, his impatient hands earnestly traveling all over your body. While your legs locked around his torso, your feisty nature leaned back so your entire body lied on the small desk.

Jeno was on top, placing one hand down to hold himself while the other squeezed your waist firmly. Even if you’re made of wax, you’re like an actual living woman at night. Everything about you becomes real until dawn. You emitted vulgar moans, giving him more access to your neck. Peppering a mix of soft to hard kisses, your hand teasingly snaked under his shirt. He really wasn’t joking when he bragged that he was quite ripped since he enjoyed sports and going to the gym, cupping a part of his toned abdomen.

“If you want something, all you have to do is ask.” He sluggishly sucked the area between your ear and neck, one of your weakest spots. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

The growing moistness in between your legs left a stain in your panties, trying to close your legs out of embarrassment. It’s been decades since you’ve been stimulated like this. However, Jeno beat you to it as he trailed the hand that was on your waist and lowering it right above your covered sex. He cupped it agonizingly slow, making you folding your leg from the pleasure. For a man who doesn’t date around, he knew exactly what he’s doing.

“I just kissed you, and you’re already this soaked. Can you handle me, baby?”

As the strong woman that you present yourself to be, it would selfishly take the right touch from the right man to weaken you. With his savage lips back on yours while your hands clutched on his shirt, he was simply waiting for a verbal answer, yet driving you completely mad. Everything was happening so fast, and here he was to please you in anywhere you seem fit.

You were deprived, and oh, you needed it more than ever.

However, seconds before you replied, there was loud rumbling from the main doors which stopped your devilish antics. As Jeno moved back from you to see the ruckus, you lifted yourself back up, pulling back your dress sleeves and flattening out the creases. The last thing you wanted was a trail of familiar red marks from the aggressive male, finding any reflective surfaces to check.

“I wouldn’t be that dumb to leave you hickies now, would I?” Jeno ended your worries as he placed his hands by your side again. His face leaned towards yours again, reliving the warmth in your cheeks. His lips were plumper, catching traces of your coral lipstick smudged there down to his jaw. He slotted himself again between your legs, grazing a hand on your waist and the other to your warm cheek. “The door’s unlocked now, and it’s 5 am. Do you want to clean up now?”

You playfully scoffed, aware that neither of you had plans to do that yet. Such a player while in the heat of the moment.

“Spare me 15 more minutes with you first.”

Hiding the romance you’ve both built failed without trying. Aphrodite spotted all the signs from your open physical affection and words of admiration, calling you two out in front of everyone without shame. She is the goddess of love, after all. You couldn’t fool her even if you tried.

Plus, she’s the one who locked the two of you up in the Theater Room that night. But neither of you know that.

“Sketch my ideal home?” Jeno bent down to the table, testing out his newly bought pens so they wouldn’t spill.

“Isn’t that why you decided to pursue Architecture in the first place? Come on now!” You pestered across him, opening your new sketchpad since your last one ran out of pages. As expected, Jeno bought you one when he went to the bookstore. As much as you insisted not to because he should use the money somewhere else, he did it anyway. He loved your works, encouraging you in any way he could.

When he was reminded of his humble beginnings of his passion for architecture by you, never had he envisioned exactly how his perfect home would be like. Settling down was so far beyond his mind, only focusing to graduate university then study for the licensure exams. However, he did miss drawing something for fun, not as a requirement. He also was the one who took charge of designing his dorm.

“Fine, only if you draw what your ideal home would’ve been if you never left London.”

Now as lovers, the only addition to your relationship were the public and private exchanges of affection. Deep conversations, film viewing, back and forth banter, you’re both still the same competitive duo everyone expected to be together. In public, the two of you held hands, hugged, kissed each other cheeks too when it felt right. Cleopatra’s face of fake nausea was priceless every time, while Princess Diana, Anne, and Katherine enjoyed it. It’s been years since they’ve seen this glow of adoration in you. Bit by bit, you’re going back to the old you. Except now, you’re a lot stronger.

Perhaps, this version of you proved wrong for the need for romance. Even if you made the choice not to settle down then, it would’ve been different if Jeno was in your universe then.

“Are you done there?” Jeno asked while you were finishing up your masterpiece. Life in London sounded fun when you were younger, having all these ideas on interior design and the like. An innocent time.

Instead of replying, you strode to his side and compared your pieces together. He pictured a two-story home, with a backyard and rooftop area. He definitely wanted to stay in the city as his whole life was based there. Although you preferred living in the countryside more for more freedom, you gave it a shot by pinpointing every detail of a wealthy typical Victorian-era home you liked. You desired a spacious lobby with a grand staircase in the middle, a crystal chandelier there too. The living room would have a small library and a grand piano, where wide doors leading to the grasslands were beside it.

Considering you two lived from different times, in a way your ideal homes were similar. Somewhere private, surrounded by nature and minimal furniture, you’re curious as to how it would look if the two of you fused them together. A mix of old and new, will it look pretty?

“What will look pretty?” Jeno questioned your random thought, looking back and forth at your sketches. “You know who’s pretty though?”

“If you say what I think you’re going to say, I’m lea-”

“You.”

Jeno has gotten flirtier since that night, always finding the right opportunity to flatter you. Although you denied them out of embarrassment, the butterflies in your stomach can’t lie to you.

You’re so smitten, and so was he.

Jeno’s always one to follow the rules, but so far, he’s been breaking some of them already.

Just last night, he gave Renjun access to the lively museum because he needed more research regarding you. Initially, he practically interviewed Jeno for every piece of information he gathered because he used to be so deep in the books to study everything about you. Now in the past, Renjun still couldn’t forget how Jeno drunkenly admitted how crazy he was going to be over you and your coldness whilst sobering up in the dorm.

He didn’t understand one bit by that, especially when you’re technically dead. But by the sight of the first piece Renjun saw alive, which was Zeus, he almost passed out. Piece by piece, he viewed these artworks come to life from his fresh eyes. Right before he could’ve screamed when Athena shot a lightbulb in their exhibit, you happily called out Jeno’s name.

Renjun froze on the spot upon seeing your wax figure come to life. He’s browsed through this museum numerously due to the new exhibits, but lately, he checked your section out to find any tiny details that were linked to your life. Aside from the sketchpad, compass, and hairpins, he wanted to know if there was more to your life as an explorer.

As human interactions except the night guard weren’t allowed, Renjun needed help for his project in Women Studies. Just like Jeno’s assignment, you aided him. Fruitfully answering every question he gave you, Athena popped out of nowhere to inspect Jeno.

“I see you’re breaking another rule.”

“I’m sorry, Athena. He was desperate, and it would be selfish of me to let him fail.”

“This is the last one I’ll let slide, alright?” Athena huffed, not impressed by the reckless behavior Jeno acquired over time. She saw this coming, but for a change, she couldn’t punish him. He was a young adult, still learning more about life. Only will she step in if things turn for the worst. “I can’t believe I’ve gained a soft spot for you.”

Jeno laughed, hugging the figure like his older sister. “You love me though!”

Glad to say, Renjun aced his project and kept his word of not telling anyone about the happenings in Jeno’s job. Jeno even made a makeshift non-disclosure contract so Renjun wouldn’t spill the slightest details.

Lately, so much has been happening in the museum that having alone time with each other was rare. And when you did, the two of you made sure to maximize it and make every intimate moment count. From each touch, each longing kiss, each moan, and groan, never were you left hanging whether you’re at the Theater Room, Jeno’s office, or the Foreign Art Room.

The only time the two of you went beyond the boundaries was at the indoor garden. Jeno managed to get the key to it, lighting up some candles before you invited you inside. Thanks to the magic of the Greek gods, the cameras were bewitched to display fake imageries when security checks in the morning after.

Upon your deep conversations, you’ve mentioned once or twice about the indoor garden. It was the latest addition of the museum, opening in the early 2000s. Because it was a sacred place, no art piece was ever allowed inside.

Yet again, Jeno challenged the rules again when he invited you inside. A few minutes before, he set up some lights along the hallway of the garden, where he placed a blanket, a picnic basket, and his laptop right at the end of it. The best place to view everything, he just knew you’d love it.

He was undoubtedly right once you gasped at such a pretty sight. Seeing the silhouettes of various flowers and plants together with the night sky with all the stars sparkling, it was like you’re attending another ball with your sisters, who were looking for suitors then.

Once Jeno leisurely led you until the end, he brought out all the delicacies from the basket. One of them was this Italian savory dish of dough with toppings such as cheese and pepperoni, or pizza as they named it. The next ones were fresh strawberries and melted chocolate, followed by grape juice.

“I’d drink actual alcohol with you again, only if I didn’t get shitfaced and do my job properly.”

“Point taken. Besides, this is close enough. So pour me a drink please.”

Perhaps this was the closest to a date Jeno could ever ask you out to. With the restrictions and being constrained with time, he brainstormed all sorts of ways to bring the outside world to you. From simply letting you wander around this fascinating room, he unleashed the inner romantic in him. None of his friends would’ve thought since they never asked him about it, so he kept it to himself only. Finally, he’s satisfied with what he prepared. After eating, the two of you would watch more films before the sun rose again.

You’re just the right person for him at the moment he can act that way.

After your quiet stroll and sitting back down, Jeno surprisingly handed you a tiny box.

“A gift?”

“Open it.” He sipped on his juice, paying attention to your actions. Gently untying the box, the amazement in your eyes couldn’t fathom such a lovely present. No words were required to verify that Jeno outdid himself again, just your facial expression alone is enough.

When Jeno said that he pays attention to the tiny details, he doesn’t bluff. Throughout your growing relationship, you’ve cited how you wanted another special flower in your life. Just because you couldn’t view lavender roses the same way ever again, it didn’t mean you wanted to kick them out of your life. Flowers were one of nature’s beautiful creations, so you’re wishing to find the love you once had for lavender roses in other ones.

Thus, you came across what you thought held the highest form of meaning: red roses. Despite its thorns, it’s still a marvelous flower. Innocently, you told him that just because of the memory of your father giving them to your mother on her birthday yearly.

Red roses represented true love and romance, a discreet message only those eager would know.

Jeno was one of them, which was why he reserved this gift for this very moment. It was a necklace he found through a college fair recently, a subtle red rose pendant in the center. Since he couldn’t give you huge gifts, he settled for something light. Something none of the guards or the director wouldn’t pinpoint out when they do their inspections.

“Do you like it?”

Not one utter from your mouth since you’re so hypnotized, your lips quirked up in a charming smile. “Is that even a question? This is astonishing, Jeno.”

After you attempted to put it around your neck, Jeno sighed and stepped in to help you out. “Turn around, (Y/N). Let me.”

The tension gradually heightened once you held your hair up so Jeno accessibly viewed your clean neck. Clasping the lock, it took all his might to hold himself back from you. Even from behind, your silhouette was attractive to him. The lights he set up weren’t helping the slightest of what he’s thinking to do with you.

“Done.” He breathily whispered in your ear.

If he thought he was the only one feeling something powerful, he’d be more than wrong. The lingering sensation of his slim fingers gracing your décolletage area unhinged another kind of want, the one you’ve only imagined in your mind when you were needy and alone. It shouldn’t be a sin unless you’re with the person you’ve fallen for, right?

Facing him again, the eye contact didn’t last long when you were the first one to strike a move. Jeno kissed back right away, his hands pulling you closer by your waist. Whatever sultry music Jeno played, it gave you the perfect momentum to grind on his lap. He groaned against kisses, adding his tongue. His thumbs sensually rubbed your hipbones, one of your hands toying around with his hair while the other one balled up his shirt by the chest. None of you cared if anyone caught you.

The last time you’ve been this aggressive was at the Theater Room, which eventually increased the hidden lust you’ve had towards each other. Taking things slowly at first, it’s about time to delve in for more. The mood was already set from the start, even if Jeno didn’t plan this to happen here. But being the prepared man he is, he did have a condom in his back pocket.

Your fingers trailed from his neck until his crotch. He was hard, sensing how suffocated he must be. But he kept himself in control. Locking eye contact, you sweetly spoke.

“Grant my second wish, Jeno.” That same hand of yours held one of his, planting it in your breast. “Make love to me.”

Giving the go-signal, he crashed his lips on yours while stripping you off your dress. Carefully, he turned you around to untie your tight corset. Once it fell, your neck leaned sideways as his lips attacked it madly. Your breaths were tremulous, placing both his hands on your freed breasts to knead with. His touch felt like fire on your skin, yet you couldn’t stop.

“Jeno,” Obscene moans from your lips choked out. You desired more, shifting back to face him again to attack his lips. Slowly feeling one of his hands laying you down, you spread your legs with ease just for him. He parted after your head landed on the cushion to unbutton himself. The way your mouth dropped to selfishly stare at his bare body, flexing them before getting back into position. He was fit and toned just as Cleopatra predicted.

As much as Jeno knew how wild your thoughts were getting, he was more taken aback by your perky chest.

“Fuck, you are divine.” He sucked one nipple as his fingers ventured to slip your panties down. So much was going on, you didn’t know which stimulated you more. You tried to close your legs around his hand, but he slapped your inner thigh to stop you.

The cool breeze shivered you, especially from your core. Jeno’s fingers adventurously grazed from your hip area to your lower lips. He teasingly rubbed it up and down in your essence, his index finger settling it right at your needy clit. Another moan escaped your lips, an opportunity for Jeno to slide his tongue in your mouth. Enjoying the moment, his fingers dipped inside you. A gasp broke your kiss, making him giggle in your ear.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, angel. The things I want to do with you.”

Sliding them back and forth, curling it even, you squirmed for more. Dropping himself to meet your core, Jeno placed your legs on his shoulder. Pushing you closer, his steamy breath felt like friction. Your hips grinded against it, so he gripped on them so you stay put.

“Angel,” He chuckled darkly, his crotch tightening at how powerless you looked. “You’re so pretty.”

You were drenched from arousal. But to Jeno, you were glowing under the lights. He wanted to take his time to admire what he had done to you. His independent girl, only weak for him.

His fingers unfolded in your lower lips, diving in to your orbit. You could hardly speak from his skilled mouth, especially his tongue savagely lapping your clit in numerous paces. You’ve only daydreamed about what it could do aside from kissing, and it exceeded your expectations. By the heated sensation that had the heels of your feet digging his back deeply, you affirmed to have seen more stars than the night sky above you.

Your back arched uncontrollably while his hands grasped your hips to stay in place, the tears in your eyes formulating while tugging on his hair. Your thighs clenched around his face, but his broad shoulders widened it to taste more of you. No use of pulling away when his grip on you was tight, so you could only cry out from the pleasure.

“Fuck!”

The ringing sounds in your off were going off, your throat drying up from moaning once another orgasm was about to hit. Once the knot in you snapped, nothing could hold back your screams of pleasure whilst panting for air. Sensitive as he licked every remaining essence he caused, he smirked as he got up to unbuckle his jeans.

Oh, boy. He got quite a package behind his boxers.

Even while you were overly sensitive, you had to grasp it in your hands. He was yours, and you were his.

The way you clenched around his protected length, pausing to readjust yourself to the feeling. The foreplay deemed helpful, though the girth of him overwhelmed you. He stretched you out so good.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” The stunned face you made was expected, still feeling worried that it may be too much.

Biting your lip, you moaned once everything felt bearable. “You can move, Jeno.”

None of you could track exactly how many rounds you went through. Even in the semi-public area, it didn’t hinder either of you. There’s that thrill, and surprisingly enough, you both shared the liking of it. Always switching the positions, you decided to call it quits after another sloppy round in missionary. Something seeing Jeno on top, fully submitting yourself to him, made you feel calm to be vulnerable. It’s really the trust you’ve established from the start, making you rely on humans again once you’ve let the past be.

Jeno brought out another blanket, initially meant for cuddling. It was still applicable though, curling your body into a spoon towards his racing chest. Music was no longer noise, the intimacy creeping back instead of lust this time. The afterglow of Jeno, sweaty and knackered as his legs sprawled under the sheet, was a sight for sore eyes. He’s always been handsome while on duty, but post-sex gave him an extra boost.

Plus there’s pride from the red marks courtesy of you on his chest, grazing over it softly.

Jeno chuckled softly at your smooth fingers, lifting them up to kiss them tenderly before kissing your lips again. Only humans were capable of and to love, but you’re some kind of an exception. Regardless of the magic from the plate, you’d be able to love too if it weren’t for your background.

There’s so much love Jeno wanted to offer you, even if he hasn’t said it out loud yet.

Perhaps one reason was because time was beginning to tick. Finals were a few weeks away, then the one-month long semestral break until a new semester kicks off. Time really flew by, and his bank account and heart expanded too. Enjoying the now was all he could think of doing, but those uncertainties bothered him.

The biggest would be where you and he would stand when his job ended.

Jeno was too absorbed in his internal debate, as portrayed by his eyes staring off in space and running his hand in his hair repeatedly. Something was disturbing him, and you’re concerned as to what it was.

“Jeno,” Around his arm, you tapped his chest to get him out of it. “What’s going on in your head?”

Jeno approached every obstacle he faces straightforwardly, not wanting to let him hold back. Rarely did he keep secrets, especially from you. Instead of hiding away, he voiced it out.

“(Y/N), will we work out?”

“What do you mean, Jeno?”

You’re so occupied in the present that thinking of the future was never in your field. Like him, you’re just enjoying being in the moment. Though after tonight, it’s making you wonder if there’s a future.

“Well,” He placed his hand on top of yours, affectionately observing you. “Times flies faster when you’re having fun, and well, the semester is ending.”

His last words crushed a part of your heart, remembering his initial plan. None of you expected your friendship to bloom into what it is now, but life was just full of surprises without a schedule. At the same time, none of you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It may have been a few months since you two committed to each other, but the spark was still strong. It wasn’t like a summer romance kind of feeling. Time was not a determinant of love either, which you were certain of it with Jeno. A lot more than Junmyeon.

It should’ve frightened you when you realized your love for Jeno, but it didn’t. Even if you didn’t age physically, your mindset did. You’ve learned to forgive your younger self, and through Jeno, you let your guard down completely. From that, you let love in. Platonic to your fellow art pieces, and all of the above to Jeno.

Throughout your relationship, you regained all confidence in yourself and everything you set your mind to.

“I wouldn’t want to worry too much about it if I were you.” Your body flipped to lie on your stomach, resting your head on your palm.

“Why shouldn’t I, angel?”

Gazing back at him, you left a velvety kiss on his lips to rest his thoughts. His hand wrapped your neck, deepening it. But you pulled away with a giggle, all too knowing of his secret intentions as his cock began to harden again. His eyes narrowed down and his lower lip stuck out at your attempt of being a tease.

But enough about sex, you wanted to address a point.

Lee Jeno was going to be the biggest risk you wanted to take and fight for, and no one should try to stop you.

“I’ll ask Circe for a potion. For me, for you, for us.”

If it weren’t for insistent questioning towards every art piece, who kept their mouths shut, only Circe herself banished him from his suffering. Her series of potions varied, and the one you requested years ago which you threw out was capable of turning any art piece into a living human. No potion of Circe ever failed, so you entrusted your life for the day you do drink it.

“Are you sure, angel?”

Jeno knew about that one specifically, and as great to hear that you never threw it out, he never put pressure on you. He wanted you to do whatever felt right, even if deep down, he wished you’d use it. He was only worried about how the flow of the entire museum would be disrupted.

Typical Jeno always looking out for you, but you saw right through his concern. Here you were, caressing his check as reassurance. With an honest smile,

“I’ve never been more certain with anything in my life here until you came, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno opened up more to his life outside the museum, telling all sorts of experiences not just his days as a university student. From his childhood, his family, his travels, heck you even want to meet his friends at this point!

Newly, he shared with you how the sunrise and sunset looked like in Seoul with much vivacity. It’s a luxury as a human to witness as day breaks and ends, so you could imagine by yourself how it would look like. Sure, you had drawings and all, but that was from the real (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

This version of you wanted to live more; that’s your greed now.

“You’ve never touched snow too, right?” Jeno, who had his arm wrapped around you, silently watched the first batch of snow from inside.

“Yup, that’s the thing when you’re imprisoned in this place.” You sulked by his side, earning a chuckle from him who pulled you in closer.

“Don’t tell me now that you despise this place.”

“I don’t, but it hinders me to experience new things. The whole pattern of being awake at night by a plate gets tiring, Jeno.”

All Jeno would do when you’re frustrated was placing your head on his shoulder, listening as you talk.

“I know, angel. But it won’t be long until you leave this place with me, right?”

“You know it!” You interlocked your hands with him, eyes trained at every falling snowflake.

Sometimes, moments in silence with Jeno were all you needed for the night. Being within each other’s presence, focusing or admiring something from afar, it was all the peace you’ve needed from the bustling art pieces.

This week was the last of the semester, and Jeno’s off duty for tonight to focus on his exams. You’ll see him tomorrow night, which was his last shift ever, and also yours too.

Perhaps the biggest milestone you’re committing to without any regrets.

However, it took an unnecessary conversation you accidentally eavesdropped on to rock your decision.

You needed more ink after running out mid-way of sketching the sculptures as a secret parting gift. Before you could take a single step inside your exhibit room, a series of voices were full-on arguing. Booming back and forth, you peeped your ear out whilst hiding against the door.

“Athena, how dare you did to her?! She’s done so well from moving on from it, falling in love even! And now you’re telling me this?!” The distinct voice of Princess Diana, who spoke sweetly most of the time, boomed towards the Greek god. “You’re heartless.”

“I did what I had to do for the sake of this place, Diana!” Athena raised her voice, the lightning in her hands holding back from lashing out. She hated it when anyone argued with her, especially when she does things according to what she believed was necessary. Out of everyone, she had more leadership. “She had to know that her place is here as a wax figure, not outside. Talking Junmyeon out of it was for the best, plus it’s ideal when he drank the potion of memory loss from Circe.”

“But it tore her apart when he left her, and it’s going to tear her again if you do the same with Jeno.”

“How else are you going to approach the situation then, Diana? Those two have broken the highest golden rule, so they need to wake up.”

Right when she celebrated within herself for healing, hearing the unbearable revelation behind the past devastated you. This whole time, she internally blamed herself for being ageless and lashed out at others. The scary past barged back in, and you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Somewhere in the corner, you wept without a trace. You could care less about Athena’s opinions, but you found yourself agreeing to some of her words. You had a role to fulfill, and leaving that behind would be selfish and it could make the museum go topsy-turvy. As painful for Junmyeon to leave you, it was because the truth hurts. Nothing could change it, even if Circe could be your solution because it’ll leave a lot of questions. You didn’t want Jeno to be seen as a suspect.

Oh, Jeno.

There’s nothing wrong with falling in love either, you didn’t intend it to happen. But it becomes unfair when it compromises with your purpose, and that’s not how you are. You’ll always remember Jeno as your biggest risk, though it’s time to end things. Treacherous as it was to accept for you, risk-takers have boundaries too.

Fast forward, on the night of Jeno’s last shift, you’ve cherished every second with him. Playing around, chatting with other art pieces, kissing in private, you made it count. Before dawn broke, that’s where you chose to come clean by the garden, your sacred place. Not even your self-reassurance could prepare you to witness the hurt and confusion Jeno felt.

“You’re a mortal, and you still get to choose your path. Mine is already predetermined here as a wax copy of a historical figure.” You advised as you held both his hands, your voice shaking at the reality.

A few days ago, you were beaming with exhilaration at a new journey but now you’ve permanently backed out. Jeno couldn’t comprehend, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t. A life without you by his side would be empty and dull. “Even so, there are things about you that the original person didn’t have.”

Arguing with him wasn’t your favorite, and it’ll leave the two of you in a bad mood. But there is no way to negotiate this; you’ve already made up your mind. “We must end this, Jeno. You need someone who can grow old with you, and I can’t be that person for you.”

“But we can make it work!” His hands gripped on your slumped shoulders, whilst your face avoiding his to spare yourself from the heartache. “There’s still Circe.”

“I know, but recently, I found out that she’s an indirect cause of my misery.” Pulling away from his touch, you belted with frustration. “I cannot do this anymore, Jeno.”

You’ve always fought for whatever you wanted in life, and Jeno knew he was one of them if it weren’t for you telling him that. So he did the same, thinking of ways to make you feel whole. Now, he couldn’t tolerate the sudden crumbling of his heart from your outburst, and all he wanted to know was why you felt this way. How could he help you?

You don’t keep secrets from Jeno, but the truth behind your harsh actions cannot be revealed for the sake of the museum. Plus, you didn’t want him to despise this place he admired. Causing him pain wasn’t on your list, but keeping him safe was. It may be shown differently and he may not understand it now, but over time, he will.

“Jeno, you’ll find someone better out there. Someone with their whole life ahead of them, who’ll love you for everything that makes you who you are.” Repetitive punches in your guts urged you to barf at your half-lie, but you held it in.

“Why are you pushing me away? What happened to taking risks, (Y/N)?” Jeno interrogated, taking your hands in his hands again. They unconventionally quivered, like his lips. Jeno has never cried in front of anyone, not even when he was younger. Though for you, he just might. “Am I not worth it for you?”

Dear heavens, he was wrong. You internally screamed that, but you can’t let your selfishness seize the night. As Athena said, you had to wake up from your dream. “Committing to you was my biggest risk of them all, Jeno. Everything else that went along with it, I don’t regret it one bit. But time’s really up for us, and we must resume our normal duties.”

“I can’t lose you, (Y/N).”

“You never will, Jeno.”

He crouched lower to meet your height, his finger moving your head so you’d look at him back. Weakly enough, you did. “I want you to be a part of my normal life, angel.”

“I’ll always be here, you know. I’ll be standing in my usual spot upstairs, and you can drop by whenever you can.” You pressed your lips, lifting your head to avoid incoming tears. Meanwhile, he began shedding a few. You’ve hurt him big time, and you’ll never forgive yourself for this. “I still have one wish, right?”

Jeno’s sorrow was beyond his capacity, leaning his forehead against yours to kiss it. No matter what he could say or do, he already knew it won’t be effective. You’re affirmative in your choices, yet he still wanted to challenge it. All he wanted to know was why you’re doing this.

“Let me walk you one last time to your section.”

The black night sky had remnants of blue, motioning that dawn was approaching. Other figures gave their goodbyes to Jeno earlier, cleaning up their areas before they pose. Though none of them anticipated such a cold atmosphere between you two, they could only spy on what was bound to happen.

“My last wish is for you to let me go, Jeno.” You avowed, blinking your eyes with faux positivity. Your hands patted his blazer so it wouldn’t crease. “I already have a role to fulfill here, and you’re on the way to yours, future architect.”

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Only tonight did he muster his courage to finally admit it to you after giving himself more time to analyze it. Timing was always crucial, and the badness of it showed.

Deep in your heart, you resonated the feeling. But it’ll make things more complicated, and it was the final thing you’ve wanted to occur. Someone had to be the strong one, and now, it should be you. With one more compassionate kiss on his lips, you stepped inside your section and readied your position.

“Goodbye, Lee Jeno.”

The sunshine brightened the room, and you’ve frozen to slumber again.

All Jeno could do was drop on his knees, sobbing over your rash actions. Unknown to him, a single tear left your eye as you posed.

Regardless of what status you were in, the pain of it all remained.

Jeno spent most of his semestral break with his friends to travel or whatnot, trying to forget it all. Even if he aced all his finals, his efforts felt like nothing if he never had you by his side to celebrate.

The sting over his short-lived romance with you never diminished the slightest, no one whom he could express his pain about it to especially when Renjun drank the memory wipe potion that Athena initially left for Jeno by his desk.

Forget it all, and live a peaceful life. You have so much potential, my mentee.

- Athena

Perhaps this was the same thing Junmyeon drank all those years ago, but unlike him, he didn’t have the guts to. He still wanted another chance.

So every day since the new semester began, he spent every afternoon break at your section. He’ll be seated by the bench, doing his assignments and talking about his day while sometimes stealing a glance of your figure. Some habits don’t change.

He never got sick of the same smile you exemplified, falling even more for you. He’ll often wonder what you’ve been up to.

What are your new sketches?

Are you taking care of Mochi well?

Have you apologized to Sanghoon yet?

Speaking of him, he surprisingly scooted over to Jeno’s side. This was the first time Jeno met the man, and politely enough greeted him. Sanghoon interviewed the boy, asking all sorts of questions that Jeno had every answer to. The biggest change that Sanghoon noticed since he left was your personality. You no longer bite, but treat everyone kindly without bias. You’re always active to help him out in cleaning the lobby, and you don’t go easily defensive.

Once he found out that Jeno was the reason for that, he was overjoyed at the start and wanted to meet him some way. You were a tough cookie, but now you relaxed. That was all that mattered to him, hoping to know more about him from you. That was until Diana stepped in and told him everything that happened. Mostly, the bad.

Playfulness eventually bore love. The last time you fell in love was in the 80s and Junmyeon pushed you away, he recalled. This time, you’re pushing Jeno away because you simply agreed with Athena’s points.

This wasn’t right, but it wasn’t his place to interfere.

But then again, he finally caught Jeno for the first time today and this time, he was open to hearing his side of the story. Lessen his misery too.

“No matter how stubborn she is, she loves you.” He advised him, bringing out one of your full sketchbooks. As Jeno opened it, the majority of the portraits were him. Sleeping, smiling, laughing, you drew him from every minor detail you could spot like the mole near his eye and his crescent eyes.

A handsome face I would never get sick until the end of time. Someone I want to wake up to every day in the morning if it weren’t for that plate.

- (Y/N)

Towards the end, a sketch of a house unfolded. The interior was a fusion of modernity and old royal design due to its white walls, wide space, and the placing of less furniture, plus an open backyard. There’s another tiny comment on the side from you.

I was right. Joining our varying designs together is pretty. Maybe Jeno and I could live in a house like this one day.

- (Y/N)

If you loved him so much, why did you let him go then when you had all these plans with him? Even if he tried to understand, he just didn’t.

“Don’t give up just yet when she told you to.”

“Are you just saying this or something?”

“Well, Princess Diana passed this message on but after everything, I believe that she’s right.” Sanghoon gave his opinion, but Jeno was reluctant to accept it.

“I never got a proper explanation why she suddenly changed her mind, Sanghoon.” He ranted, raking his hand through his hair from puzzlement. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sanghoon pitied him, having the upper hand and questioning himself whether to reveal the truth. However, since this boy took the job, he’s succumbed to secrecy. Without any transparency, it could drive someone mad. He’s too young for that, so Sanghoon breathed in defeat and placed his hand on Jeno’s shoulder.

“Promise me you won’t be mad when I tell you because I was when I found out; almost screamed even.”

Jeno nodded, listening to whatever Sanghoon had to say.

Of all people, he never would’ve expected Athena to do such a brash thing. Someone he respected and trusted, only to betray him by doing something she believed was good for all. Except it wasn’t, and it ended up hurting you all these years. The woman he loved, now he’s a clearer understanding of why you did what you did. Yet, it can’t fix his excruciation.

Heartbroken was an understatement; he had no one to rely on. With Sanghoon, he finally had a proper breakdown. The older man could only comfort his quietly, picturing him like one of his sons going through a hard time in school. But if it involves the heart, it’ll take more time to recover.

“You’re always the one adjusting, Jeno. But I think this time, you’re the one who needs space.”

A Year and a Half Later

“Jeno Lee!!!” Jaemin roughly wallowed his best friend in a hug when he arrived in their dorm room for the first time in a long time. “You dyed your hair blonde again!”

Renjun, who was behind the two of them, only rolled his eyes as he helped carry Jeno’s bags. “God damn it, Jaemin! You’re supposed to be helping me first!”

“I know, but give me a few seconds! I’m just happy our group is back together!”

Jeno laughed at his friends’ annoying yet silly dynamics, giddy to be back home. For a year, Jeno spent his 3rd year of university in Rome, Italy after one of his professors brought up to him about a scholarship program there for his course. At the time where he needed a change of scenery, he sent his application form and got interviewed.

Acing it, he had the opportunity to fly across the world to study and travel. His English skills surely improved, even picking up Italian words along the way due to a required class for it. He studied the history of different locations and how they were built.

He also went on field trips almost every day if it weren’t for the Italian students assigned to tour him around, academic and non-academic. Nights he spent on drinking wine on the rooftop of his dorm with them, screaming his complaints in the world with them.

It didn’t hit him that his stay was reaching its end until he submitted his final plate. His goodbye party didn’t even feel like one, but a see you later in the next few years after he becomes a licensed architect with money. His goal of it felt more realistic, motivating him to excel in his remaining years in university.

After unpacking half of his things, he was reminded of an email from one of the head professors, who requested another copy of his confidential documents from the Italian university he went to as soon as he’s back on campus.

He raced to the department with a folder of them and luckily encountered the said professor. Handing it to him, this professor questioned how he was and what experiences he gained from the trip. With excitement, Jeno spoke all sorts of tales from his adventures, highlighting how determined he was now to be an architect.

“That’s great to hear, Jeno!” He celebrated, checking on his watch, and widened his eyes. Frantic at his colliding schedules, he asked Jeno for a favor. It turned out that at the same time as his emergency meeting, he’s supposed to tour the new transferee student around campus.

“Only if you have time, Jeno! I could always ask another student, plus you just came back and need rest.”

“It’s not like I left for a decade, sir. No worries, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, bless your soul.” He put his hands together in prayer position, bowing back and forth with gratitude. “Wait, she’s right outside! Go ahead and introduce yourself.”

Jeno nodded, exiting right through the department doors. This girl had her back turned, inspecting her surroundings. She wore a black and white tweed blazer that matched with her skirt, black high heeled boots, and a black handbag. She must be a foreigner, Jeno thought.

“Excuse me, are you the transferee in the department of Architecture?”

Jeno didn’t brace himself for the surprise he’d face once this girl reacted to him calling her out. Her face was one he could never forget, no matter how many times he told himself to. The same face he convinced his heart to stop beating for, yet it lied.

This radiant face was none other than yours.

Jeno almost dropped his phone. He tried his best to hold on to your promise, but he failed. It was the main reason he studied abroad; to forget and focus on his career path. So the least thing he could’ve done was to study hard for his dream career.

Just a glimpse of you projected back every single memory you’ve had together. Beautiful yet heart-wrenching, he kept his emotions to himself.

You even wore the rose necklace he got you. Could it be?

“It’s been a while, Lee Jeno.” You took the metaphorical scissors to cut the tension, trying to contain the crushing feelings. The faculty center was a public place, yet it’s like the two of you were on the main stage.

“Do you remember me?” Astounded, you nodded. Every single detail.

Jeno could’ve ran away, but didn’t. He could’ve left you hanging, but didn’t. He can no longer count how many times you’ve appeared in his dreams, only to be disappointed when morning comes to not have you in his arms. He took one step closer, taking his time.

“How do you know me?”

“You’re the boy whom I helped with his assignment, argued with me over Romeo and Juliet,” You mimicked his move, making you one step nearer to him. “And most of all, the boy I once gave my entire heart to.”

Another step, leaving a few inches between the two of you. His heart palpitated without caffeine. What if he was napping in his dorm again? It was all surreal. “Is it really you, (Y/N)?”

Hearing your name from his lips lowered your guard, you pleased him with a hopeful grin. “I’d be dust by now if I didn’t drink Circe’s potion, right?”

That’s where Jeno unchained himself from his emotions. He engulfed in a warm hug, one that has no plans to let go when his chin planted on your shoulder. You returned the gesture, dropping all your worries away along with your bag and papers as your arms snaked through his neck.

You knew you had to part ways for a while after everything, though you were unsure how he’d feel about it. You recalled every time he visited you after his job ended up until his intense chat with Sanghoon, where he bawled his heart out. You couldn’t take it anymore after trying to stay strong, crying as soon as you woke up that night.

All your fellow figures could do was soothe you down like before to the best of their abilities, yet this time, it was unsuccessful. You’re filled with misery, realizing later how much of a big mistake you’ve made.

You’ve isolated yourself again for a while, but less rudeness and more silence. It was until Circe visited you. She doesn’t like getting involved with drama, though now was different. She, alongside Hera and Aphrodite, couldn’t withstand you tolerating the heartbreak again. So they went behind Athena’s back on this one time and created a potion together just for you. But with a compromise.

“This potion can turn you into a human. However, there’s only a 10% chance you’ll regain all your memories from this place.”

“So I’ll forget everyone and him?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” You’re about to shoo her away, not in the mood to do something drastic as that. But Circe grabbed your arm again. “I strongly believe that if you and he meant to be, then there will come a time these past memories will suddenly surge at you.”

“Must I need to forget to live properly?”

You’re stubborn, and Circe expected it. “You’ve broken so many golden rules, (Y/N), so it must be done. I’ve gone against Athena for this potion, and rarely have I done that. So rather than wallowing up in misery, you should focus on yourself. Do what makes you happy because this place is trapping you from every great thing out there.”

Those were the word that the actual (Y/N) (Y/L/N) lived by, nevertheless, you’re unique from her. You built a separate identity from her. “But Jeno-”

“At the right time, (Y/N). Pull yourself together and do all the things you’ve dreamt of before he came into the picture. I just know he loves you that much, and that he will wait for you.”

That same night, you gathered all your senses and drank it. The transition was fast as lightning speed, and behold, you were like a new person. You’re back in London, with a family that closely resembled your former one; only 3 older siblings, making you the youngest. You also had a new set of memories, from childhood until your adult years.

From (Y/N) (Y/L/N), you became (Y/N) Edwards.

It took one drunken night out with your university friends for the unlikely surge of old memories to speedily hit through your intoxicated state. Way beyond a dream, you’ve dropped your shot glass and broke down in the bathroom of your dorm room. You left something unaccomplished, and you had to do something before it’s too late.

Thus, you rushed to Seoul thanks to your parents’ support as they agreed that exploring outside your home country was a great experience. The only excuse you gave to your friends for the sudden transfer was you finding a new calling.

Sure, studying abroad was an exciting thing but you’re more determined to reunite with him. Even if this encounter was unforeseen, it was bound to happen one day. It so turned out that you had the same major in your former university and this new one.

Head to toe, you remembered everything.

“I’m so sorry I took so long.” You cradled your head on his chest, unaware of how your new life left Jeno so troubled.

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Jeno tightened his grip, scared of releasing you again. Those two years felt like a breath of fresh air and a punch in the gut. “I tried to live up to your last wish, but I really can’t.”

“I want to take that wish back, Jeno. I wasn’t thinking right and only ended putting you through so much.”

“Oh, angel. I slowly understood why you did it.” Before he got too fragile, he softened his grip on you and showed his face again to you. He wanted a better look at his pretty girl, his fingers brushing strands of your hair behind your ear. Heart-fluttering, you bit your bottom lip. “What would you want to wish for instead?”

“Instead of you letting me go, I wish you could take me back and love me again. I can’t undo the past, but I’d still like to think I’ve tried my best.” That was the only wish you could ever think of. As huge as it was, it was something he may not accept. Yet you gave it a go, risking it all. “I don’t deserve you at all, Jeno.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N).” One of his hands grabbed yours, putting it on his cheek. Cupping it, “I’ve never stopped loving you, you know.”

Oh, love. An all-too familiar emotion that either makes or breaks you. Of all the times you could’ve said those words, you held back, especially that wretched night you two broke it off. Although you showed it, being able to say it to someone felt more empowering.

This was finally the chance you’ve unconsciously waited for.

“I’m stupid for not saying this sooner.”

“What is it?”

With intimate eye contact, you drowned in the comfort of his brown orbs. You trusted him then, and you trusted him now. “I love you, Lee Jeno.”

Secretly, Jeno anticipated for the day you’d say those meaningful 3 words. Just like you, he showed more affection through actions than words. He only admitted when he lost you, and never would he do the same mistake again. If he felt that the love was strongly present, he will say it aloud.

“I love you still, (Y/N).” His arm around your waist tugged you in further. “I loved you as (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I will continue to love you as (Y/N) Edwards.”

He peeked on your ID earlier, but regardless, he stood by his truth. You’re still the same (Y/N).

Finally, he closed the limited space between your lips. The memories of your past romance replayed in sync of every touching kiss, popping one leg up like in the movies. The Princess Diaries, specifically. Like in the museum from your unbearable parting, one warm tear freed itself down your cheek.

The sweetness of being reunited with you again beat the torturous wait of Jeno. Time really made your hearts grow fonder. As everyone said, if the love between two people is real, then it’ll find its way back to each other.

The world must be on your side too because no professor called you two out on your public display of affection. Jeno pecked your lips one time before stepping away, picking up the things you dropped.

“Now come on, I have to tour you around as instructed.”

You stomped on your feet, rolling your eyes from being left hanging. He’s still the same tease from before. “After that kiss though, I would’ve thought we could reschedule it.”

“No can do, Edwards.” Passing over your things, he wrapped one arm around you as he escorted you out of the building. The university was huge, with more buildings and green fields surrounded everywhere. “Left or right? There are a lot of places you missed out on all those years.”

“Point taken. Then you lead the way, my love.”

343 notes · View notes

withluvgen · 3 years

Text

Dark Shadow - Warren Worthington III X Reader

Request from @val-halla-bitch

Hiya! Can I have a Warren birb fic where the reader has a “dark power” (like controlling shadows or something) and is basically the personification of a vampire, and dresses super goth and stuff and everyone is scared of her, but after Apocalypse, Warren has to room with her because she’s the only student without a roommate and they both have a crush on each other? Idk where this is going. Thank youuuuu <3

And

Hi!!! I LOVE your writing so muchhh! Can I pretty please get a Warren x reader where the reader has a spooky power (idk what) and most people are scared of her but warren thinks she’s cool and they end up dating and just very fluffy vibes? Thank youuuuuu <3

A/N: Okay so to the person who requested this I’m sorry it took so long before I actually wrote this. I think they requested it at around August or September the first time? But don’t worry because I’m definitely making this a series. This turned out to be like an introduction part for y/n, so I’m deciding to make this into a series/ mini series. I kinda fell in love with writing this so yeah expect there to be more of this.

Side note: I also kind of based her mutation on Tokoyami from My Hero Academia.

WC: 1.5K

Warnings: Curse words, Angst. A little bit of fluff.

DARK SHADOW

It was a rainy afternoon when he came into her life. He was new to the institute and was set to be her new roommate. It wasn’t new for y/n to be roomed with someone despite the gender, they didn’t last long as their roommate anyway so it didn’t really matter to her. The longest roommate she had lasted 2 weeks before y/n’s mutation scared them off.

People were always afraid of her, and she was used to it by this time. She grew up with people being scared of her because of her mutation, especially when she was younger and didn’t know how to control her mutation. She never made any friends as a child because of it, and now that she’s grown up she doesn’t feel the need to make friends. She was fine with being alone because she never needed anybody, or at least that’s what she thinks.

Her mutation? Shadow manipulation. She could control the shadows and make them do whatever she wants. Shadow puppets, that was her favorite thing to do with her mutation but sometimes she would lose control over them and the puppets would go wild. This happened a lot during the night or whenever it was too dark, but that didn’t stop her at times even if she knew the risks. She wanted to learn how to control it. It wasn’t until she was 10 years old that her mutation manifested into something dark, one of her puppets wouldn’t leave no matter what she did. It was as if it had developed a mind of its own. She was scared of her own mutation for the first time in her life. That was when she was sent to Xavier’s so she could learn how to control it.

After a year of studying her mutation, Hank couldn’t explain how or why her shadow puppet wouldn’t leave and why it had developed a mind of its own. But the professor had a feeling that it was because she was lonely. She felt as if she needed a friend and somehow her mutation manifested that friend for her. As she grew older this shadow puppet, was no longer just a puppet for her. She learned that it was part of her now and actually became friends with it. As she slowly understood what the shadow was, she learned that her own emotions can be felt by the shadow and that they somehow have a psychic connection.

She never liked having anyone around, especially the roommates they tried to put her with. They were always too loud or too annoying. She didn’t have the hard to say this to them so at night when she’s asleep, her shadow would torment her roommate without her knowing. The next morning she’d wake up to the other side of the room completely empty.

That wasn’t the case for her current roommate. It has been about a month and Warren was still there. She wondered why that was. She was used to her roommates leaving after a week or two, but something made Warren stay. It made her curious. So, for the first time ever, she was going to try and befriend her roommate.

“H-hey.” She hesitantly said. Warren only looked at her direction with a questioning look on his face.

“Why are you here?” She asked trying not so sound rude.

“Uh? This is my room?” Warren raises an eyebrow at her.

“I fucking know that but I mean, why are you still here? It’s been a month, and you’re still here. I want to know why?” Y/N asks voice raising a little bit because of her frustration.

“Look, I’m not scared of you or your stupid dark shadow or whatever the fuck that thing is. I’ve been through so much worse than that thing tormenting me at night. So, whether you like it or not, I’m not going anywhere.” Warren says sitting up and places the comic book he was reading beside him.

“Tormenting you? Wait what?” she asks as this information is completely new to her.

“Very funny. I know you’ve been controlling that thing to scare me off so quit will you?” Warren says with a straight face as he looks her in the eyes.

“I- I really don’t know what you’re talking about though?” Her brow furrows as she conjures up her shadow puppet. “Puppet, care to explain what my roommate is saying?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about.” Puppet says as it shakes its head.

“WOAH? That thing can talk?” Warren asks in astonishment.

“Yeah. It has a mind of its own so I don’t completely control it.” Y/N says as she looks down a little embarrassed. This was the first time she ever told anyone about her mutation because she doesn’t have friends in the institute. She does have a few acquaintances like Jean, but she’s not exactly what she considers a friend. “It has been like this since I was Ten.”

“T-that’s actually pretty cool.” Warren says standing up to circle around puppet. He tries to touch the shadow but it bursts out.

“HEY STOP IT!” Puppet says appearing larger to scare off Warren.

“Sorry. Puppet doesn’t like people much. And uhh…you really think it’s cool? That’s actually the first time I’ve heard that.” Y/N says bashfully.

“I mean yeah? I’ve faced a lot of different mutants in my cage fights but this is the first time I’m seeing something like this.”

“T-thank you.” Y/N says as she feels her cheeks heating. Wondering what this feeling was.

It was a little while later when Y/N was alone in their room that she actually talked to shadow puppet to confront them about the whole “terrorizing the roommates” thing. She wasn’t upset about it she just found it a bit too much. She didn’t exactly want a roommate but she didn’t like the idea of puppet scaring people off on purpose just so she’d be alone.

“Look, Puppet, I’m not mad about it. I just want to know why you did it.” Y/N said as she sat on her bed looking a puppet that was pacing the room.

“I had to. You were feeling really upset about having a roommate and I thought you didn’t want them so I took care of them for you.” Puppet looked at her with sad eyes.

“I don’t want a roommate, but that doesn’t mean what you did was right. Have you done this for all of my past roommates?” She looks at her shadow puppet curiously.

“NO! Yes.” Puppet looks at the ground, as if ashamed of what it’s done.

“What the fuck? You’ve done this for the past 9 roommates I had, 10 including Warren?” Y/N bursts in laughter at the revelation.

“Yes.” Puppet answers sadly.

“It’s fine, puppet. I’m not mad. Just don’t do it anymore.” Y/N says as puppet instantly perks up at the sentence.

“Ohhhhhhhh~ you like him don’t you?!” Puppet exclaims.

“Shut up.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she looks away.

“Ohhhhh my little baby Y/N has a crush on the bird boy!” Puppet says running around happily. Mumbling about how to it should start planning a wedding. Y/N smiles watching her puppet be excited for the first time.

---

It was a few months later and Y/N slowly started opening up to Warren more. For the first time in years, Y/N actually made a friend. It was weird for the other students to actually see Y/N smiling, but ever since she became friends with Warren, she has been more cheerful than she was in the previous years. Even shadow puppet wasn’t being aggressively scary anymore, well it still was but less often.

It didn’t take the other students to figure out that the reason behind Y/N’s change in demeanor was because of her new roommate. It was rare to see them without the other. Y/N and Warren suddenly became inseparable, and to the older students it was the cutest thing ever. The younger students were still afraid of the two since Y/N was the personification of darkness and Warren was one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse.

“Here.” Warren says as he hands a cup of Y/N’s favorite drink to her before class.

“Thanks.” Y/N says accepting the drink with a warm smile on her face. The two of them head to class with puppet trailing behind them.

“Is it just me or does y/n seem a lot cheerful since Warren came here?” Peter asked Scott as they saw the two walk past them.

“It’s weird don’t you think?” Scott shrugs as he looks at the pair walking to class.

“I THINK IT’S ADORABLE!! DON’T YOU JUST SHIP THEM?!” Puppet says, popping out from the darkness before rushing to catch up with Y/n and Warren.

“See? Weird. Even her puppet is acting strange.” Scott says furrowing his brows.

“A little bit. But this is the first time I’ve seen her like this. Maybe she’ll finally let us be her friends.” Peter says before rushing to his class.

138 notes · View notes

alolowrites · 4 years

Text

On The Run

Summary: Staying in one place was never a good idea. It was risky and only caused more problems for you. However, an exception was made for Minato—a city under Shinsou’s watch.

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I’m happy to share my sixth story for @bnhabookclub‘s Hero Camp Bingo event. This story is by far the longest fic I’ve ever wrote. The bingo prompt I used was “Pro Hero AU”. This story is also part of the club’s Weekly SFW Prompt and the prompt used was: “I think I’m in love with you, and that terrifies me.”

This story wiped me out. I think it’s because of the sheer length and the action scenes. However, I am very happy with this story. Hopefully you all enjoy it as well!

Please note that the reader is a villain and there is an itty-bit of angst...

Word Count: 4.6K+

“Well, well, well…”

You were slammed against the brick wall, letting out a painful groan. Unfortunately, it was drowned out by the rowdy bar filled with boisterous drunk men. A large shadow loomed over your hunched figure, the raggedy boots stomping closer to you. One hand seized your jaw and forcibly made you look up.

“If it ain’t Vanisher herself,” he sneered, his mouth reeking of low-quality vodka. You almost hurled when his nasty breath hit your nose. The wretched stench of someone’s vomit flowing from the dumpster smelled better. Two of his buddies stayed behind him, their snickers echoing down the dirty alleyway. “You’re a pain in the ass to find, y’know that?”

“What the hell do you want, Takeshi?”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” His grip tightened, and you yelped; that’s going to leave a bruise. Takeshi’s face inched closer as you glared at the disgusting henchman. “Our boss wants all the money you stole from him. Down to the very last yen.”

“Aw! Is the old fella still holding a grudge on me?” You clicked your tongue like a disapproving parent. A playful glint flashed across your eyes. “I won that money fair and square. Not my fault he’s a sore loser.”

“You swindled him with those rigged poker cards!”

“A gal’s gotta survive in this world, my friend,” your voice was sickly sweet, but also dangerously cold. Takeshi growled as you cackled at his annoyed expression. “If that means playing a little dirty with suckers like him, then so be it. Now, if we’re done here—”

The air escaped from Takeshi’s lungs when your right knee landed a harsh blow in his groin. Without stopping, you snatched the arm holding you and twisted it with brute force; he howled, not seeing the swift kick that knocked him off balance. You needed to flee quick. As you dodged the other goons’ attacks, you immediately had a place in mind and extended your palm.

A golden circle started opening in the distance. Your legs were on fire like Ingenium, and your lips nearly tasted sweet freedom when a long, slimy tongue smacked your neck. You collapsed on the pavement, the bright circle fizzling away. An unsettling feeling brewed inside your head when you couldn’t move at all. Every muscle was numb despite your brain sending SOS signals to get up.

Fuck! I forgot about his paralyzing quirk.

Heavy footsteps shook the ground. You were rolled onto your back and panicked when Takeshi’s wild eyes shamelessly raked along your body. He dared to plop himself down, his sandbag like weight crushing you with no remorse. His chapped mouth stopped near your ear and snarled, “You ain’t goin’ nowhere. I know the boss wants ya’, but he’s just gonna have to wait until I have my way with you first.”

“Aye yo, Takeshi, guess what!”

“What?” He snapped his neck over his shoulder, annoyed at being interrupted. A dazed sensation overcame him, and he stayed motionless. You cursed to yourself when you realized who was responsible for this—Shinsou Hitoshi, aka Persona Hero: Mindjack.

“Get off her and walk toward me.”

Yup, it was definitely him. You tried wiggling your fingers or toes, but to no avail; you were deadweight and glared at the dark sky. If there was anything you hated more in the world, it was being a hopeless damsel in distress. A few minutes passed until you hear Shinsou’s light footsteps approach your pitiful state.

“Well, isn’t this a sight,” he snorted at your heated face.

“If I could flip you off, I would.”

“This is the thanks I get for saving your ass?” You averted your eyes, begrudgingly waving the imaginary white flag. Shinsou bit back a grin as he kneeled beside you, checking for any injuries. “But seriously, are you okay?”

“Why do you care?”

“I'm a hero. I make sure people are not hurt,” Shinsou answered sincerely. His hand lingered above your shoulder as violet eyes stared at you. The corner of his lips curved ever so slightly when he said, “Even if the person happens to be a villain like yourself, Vanisher.”

“Well, I’m fine. Just paralyzed.” Your muscles were still frozen. Shinsou hummed as he glanced at the three men sitting obediently by the dumpster. Their hands and feet were tied, Takeshi being the only one still in a daze. The other two guys were knocked out thanks to Shinsou’s precise attacks. You let out a relenting sigh, “Thanks for…saving me. Damn pig hit a new low for pulling that shit on me.”

“He’s a coward.” You were taken aback by the venom in Shinsou’s voice. Coincidently, your fingers and toes twitched, a small sign that you were regaining control again. “It seems that he’s done it before. I’ll make sure assholes like him are off the streets permanently.”

“For once, I actually support your heroic actions,” you grinned, your entire body waking up from the not-so-peaceful slumber. Pushing yourself off the floor, you rubbed the back of your neck and felt the tiny lump where Takeshi hit you. Shinsou offered his hand, and you suspiciously glanced at him. The underground hero gave you an exasperated look. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed it and Shinsou helped you stand up.

He turned away and reached for his phone. “I’m calling the police. You should get out of here.”

“Wait,” you stepped forward, a bit confused, “You’re not turning me in?”

“You were being attacked and used self-defense,” Shinsou shrugged as he made the call. A minute later, he hung up and went to tighten the knots on the ropes. You were skeptical, wondering if this was all a trap. When you didn’t leave, Shinsou sighed and peeked over his scarf. “Look, you had a rough night. Just this once, I’m giving you a pass. Don’t be an idiot by staying here until the cops come.”

“Hmph, fine.” You opened a portal behind you. The golden sparks lit up the dreary alleyway, and one leg stepped on the other side. You paused, staring at Shinsou and murmured, “I owe you one.”

Shinsou nodded.

You disappeared just as the police sirens rang down the streets.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Staying in one place was never a good idea. It was risky and only caused more problems for you based on past experiences. From a young age, you’ve learned to fend for yourself while on the streets. Sure it was exhausting looking over your shoulders, feet ready to bounce if the scene got too chaotic. But you sucked it up if it meant avoiding jail or facing Mr. Death himself.

Neither of them was in your deck of cards called life. And your life was undoubtedly precious, so why waste it away in a rotten jail cell or cramped coffin?

You arrived at Minato City roughly eight months ago, and it was the longest time you ever stayed in one spot. Usually, you dipped by the second month, but that wasn’t the case for Minato—a city under Shinsou’s watch.

The first time you crossed paths with him, it was ironically in a back alley nestled in between two rundown buildings. You preyed on a rich salaryman with an unmistakable narcissistic attitude; he was an easy target, and it didn’t take long to get him stumbling over his feet. After knocking him out cold, you rummaged through his belongings until you sensed a shadow lurking in the darkness.

Your eyes landed on the stranger’s bizarre getup. An air of mystery surrounded him thanks to his unruly scarf and metal mouth-mask. Stranger danger indeed, you mused while taking a step back; your survival instincts urged you to leave. The man quirked an eyebrow when he asked a question, and you foolishly answered it.

You walked forward despite your inner protests; it was as if you were under some weird spell—his quirk perhaps?—and you couldn’t break free. The stranger placed handcuffs on you and checked on the unconscious man. All your escape plans were useless until a miracle happened: an ashtray fell on your head. The glass shattered on the floor, and you let out an annoyed groan; you realized the mysterious spell was broken. Not wasting another second, you summoned a portal behind you.

“Neat trick, but I’m not a big fan of being someone else’s puppet!”

You disappeared before his scarf could capture you. The next day, you did some research on the guy and learned he was a pro hero named Mindjack, his actual name Shinsou Hitoshi. You blamed yourself for not brushing up on this information before arriving at Minato City, a rookie mistake indeed. He was trouble, and you barely escaped his grasp last night, yet you were intrigued by him. His quirk was unique, almost villain-like if he wasn’t such a goodie-two-shoes.

Since then, you had some run-ins with said hero, whether intentional or not.

At first, you kept your guard up around him. Shinsou taunted you to speak, but you hilariously whipped out a mini dry erase board in return; it amused him. He heard about you, an infamous thief named Vanisher who frequents the underground scene.

After two months of playing the cat-and-mouse game, you settled on befriending him; he grew on you with his deadpanned statements. One night you found Shinsou crouched on the roof’s edge, yawning as if he hadn’t slept in days. You smacked an energy bar on his head and shoved a black coffee in his hand with a perky smile. Shinsou was thrown off by your gesture, but threw a curt “thanks” your way.

It was an odd dynamic brewing between you both. Some nights Shinsou shared a quick bite with you, and other nights he tried, for the billionth time, to rein you in. For Shinsou, you weren’t a huge threat in his city, just an annoying thorn. He disapproved of your nightly shenanigans with a dry, “Stop stealing stuff from unconscious men.”

“Oh please, he’ll survive without his precious Rolex watch!”

You enjoyed the friendly banter, and you knew he did to by the mischievous glint in his eyes. Even his tone sounded playful, betraying the serious facade during his patrols. Of course, you trod the tightrope carefully with the lone hero. A small slip and you’ll fall. However, it was a risk you took every night for the last eight months. Besides, Shinsou was extraordinarily handsome, and the whole dark aura vibe suited him well.

He was the first reason why you decided to prolong your short stay in Minato City. The second reason was well—

“Hmmm,” you savored the gin cocktail, soaking in all the information with deep thought. The room was cramped and had poor ventilation. Your nose inhaled the musty odor lingering in the air, the stench making you silently groan. A single lightbulb hung above the round table and barely illuminated the man’s wrinkled face, partially hiding in the shadows.

“So…what do you say?” Mamba’s guttural voice broke the silence. Two grimy nails tapped the table as he watched your throat bob. You caught his tongue hungrily licking his lips. “Think you’re up for it?”

“A heist, huh?” You lowered your drink, and casually swung your arm behind the chair. “You sure your guys scoped out the place?”

“Down to the smallest detail.”

“Hmm…I want forty-five percent of the cut.”

He smirked, “As you wish. After all, you are valuable to us.”

“Well, don’t you know how to charm a lady,” you teased, crossing a leg over the other. “I’m in. I’ve been meaning to spruce up my dull routine. Conning rich suckers might be fun and all, but this heist sounds ten times better.”

Mamba signaled for his drink. Your glass cups clinked as the deal was officially closed. He shifted in his seat and drawled, “A pleasure having you on board, Vanisher. You’ll be in good hands with my men. I give you my word.”

“I’m sure I will.”

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“Ready to go?” Voltage gruffed from behind you. He was an enormous man who stood as tall as an electric tower. Tiny sparks bounced in his yellow eyes. The stoic man was the driver, and he lead you to the back of the van parked outside.

The plan was simple. Voltage will drive the van to an alley that was close enough to the bank. Someone from squad B would shut off the entire security system to avoid alerting the police. You will then summon a portal that connects to the vault. From there, two men will slip through and break the metal door. They’ll pack approximately 100 million yen in large duffle bags, throwing them back through the portal.

It sounded easy enough…after all, that was the plan for today.

“Really?” You huffed, annoyed at the henchman man-spreading on your right. His twin sat across from both of you with an unreadable expression. Voltage and his partner, Benzo, ignored your complaints. Casting a glare at your ‘teammate,’ you snapped your head to focus on the road. That’s when you noticed something strange.

Benzo discreetly pushed aside his coat to take out his gun. It was common knowledge for criminals like Mamba’s soldiers to arm themselves despite having quirks. However, why did Benzo have a tight grip on his weapon now? You narrowed your eyes when Voltage took a left turn instead of right, fueling your suspicions even more.

“The GPS broken, Voltage?”

Silence.

And then…an attack.

You dodged a crystal dagger that came from your right. Only his hand was crystallized and you twisted his arm, the henchman howling like an injured wolf. His twin lunged forward with the speed of a bullet train. Your back slammed against the van at the guy’s sheer force. With wide eyes, you felt his vice-like grip crush your throat. The air was being sucked right our your lungs, and your fingers frantically scratched his skin.

Not giving up, you delivered three harsh blows to his groin. He stumbled back, but refused to let go of you. A growl escaped your lips when you kicked his ribs; with his grip gone, you charged at him, striking a pressure point by his neck—he was out like a light.

Out of the blue, Man-spreader caught you in a chokehold. He was noticeably weaker due to the injured right arm, and you took advantage of this. Benzo, however, shifted his body in his seat while snarling, “Keep her still! I’m gonna knock her out with this sleeping bullet! Viper wants her alive!”

Viper?! Damn it!

You elbowed man-spreader’s chest without stopping; an intense head-butt was your final move. Hearing the gun click, you swiftly used the unconscious stone block as your human shield to avoid the bullet. Tossing the guy toward the front, you activated your portal and rolled down the street. There was no time to think of a safe place, just that you needed to get out that hellish van.

A few scratches marked your cheek. The sound of wheels screeching against the concrete forced you to leap on your feet and run. You didn’t have enough energy to summon another portal, the fight draining almost everything in your system. But you still had some power left, and you’ll use it as your last resort.

For now, you settled on running the hell out of the van’s sight. Voltage and Benzo were hunters who wouldn’t rest until you’re captured. But there was no way in hell you were facing Viper again. Damn old geezer was still holding onto a deep grudge with that poker game. You gritted your teeth, the metallic taste of blood overwhelming your mouth. This might be a problem you couldn’t easily vanish away from…but it didn’t hurt to try.

All the buildings blurred as your feet pounded against the pavement. You skidded around the corner, the van right on your tail. A shot rang from a distance and you hissed; the bullet grazed your thigh. When you glanced up, your mouth dropped as a blue truck pulled out into the street.

Your only warning was: “Get out of the way!”

The driver, plus his companions, scurried like frighten mice when they noticed the white van dashing down the road. You slipped underneath the vehicle, but wasted no time staying on the floor. A loud crash roared from behind. You never looked back and arrived at a busy pedestrian street, bulldozing through the crowd.

Where’s a good place to hide?!

A piercing shriek ruined the city’s peaceful scenery. You peeked over your shoulder and screamed when an electric whip hit the lamp-post. The sudden attack made you lose your footing. More people yelled and rushed away from the danger, ignoring you in the process.

“I had it with this stupid chase, Vanisher!” Another whip crushed the window from a residential building. Voltage charged up his arm, the electric sparks spazzing out of control. He had you in his sight. “You’re coming with me, dead or alive!”

“Oh yeah? How are you gonna do that?” That wasn’t me…

“Why you little—”

Shinsou grunted as he lashed out his binding cloth to ensnare his target. Voltage’s power weakened once in a trance state, and the pro hero tugged the villain to the broken road. Shinsou kept the man tied up with his scarf, realizing it was the only thing strong enough to keep him immobile. You struggled to sit up. Shinsou demanded someone to call the police as he rushed toward your injured body.

“Hey, don’t move,” Shinsou gently held you in place. There was a purple bruise forming around your neck and a little bit of blood trickling down your chin. Shinsou frowned at what he saw. “What the hell happened?”

“Just got some bad blood with a sore loser,” you flashed him a crooked grin, the pain finally settling in. A cry for help interrupted your conversation, and Shinsou’s head snapped up. The building was on fire; Shinsou let out a curse. He couldn’t wait for other pro heroes or the fire department to show up. With no choice, he carried you away from the danger zone. “H-hey, what are you doing?”

“Stay here!”

Shinsou ran into the flaming pits of hell. You slowly rose to your feet, swaying back and forth on the sidewalk. Right now was the perfect opportunity to flee the scene. There were no cops or other pro heroes around, and Voltage was brainwashed. Yet, the deadly flames bursting through the shattered window paralyzed you. The only thing on your mind was Shinosu risking his life to save those people without any backup.

Damnit! Ugh…just this once!

You summoned a portal and stepped inside. The black smoke clogged the apartment, making everything harder to see or breathe. You covered your lower face and searched for anyone in this furnace. You stepped into another room, and your eyes spotted four figures huddled in the corner. Shinsou stood in front and tried thinking of a way out.

“Hey!”

“I told you to stay put!”

“Not gonna happen,” you shouted, opening a weak portal by the family. “Run toward it now! I can’t hold it for too long!”

The family escaped unscathed. However, Shinsou refused to leave without you. Always the hero, you huffed at his stupidity. Through your blurred vision, you watched as he trudged forward. Unlike you, Shinsou had his mask, which acted as an impromptu breathing apparatus. But it hardly kept the thick smoke from invading his lungs. You extended your hand, and Shinsou’s fingers stretched as if his life depended on it.

A cracking noise skittered across the ceiling with a piece falling on Shinsou. You screamed, jumping over a line of fire to rescue him. Your throbbing arms lifted the broken piece off the hero’s back. His pulse was dangerously low, and you slung his limping arm over your shoulders. The flames kept growing, consuming everything that stood in its path. If you didn’t act quick, it would eat you and Shinsou too.

Your hand created a portal close enough to where you both stood. The distorted golden ring fizzled, a sign that your body was at its limit. But you wouldn’t give up. Fives steps were all you need to get the heck out of here. The fire roared in the background, furious at your disobedience for trying to escape the madness. Except when did you ever listen?

You dragged Shinsou through the portal and collapsed on the sturdy sidewalk. The ring closed in seconds. Your lungs inhaled the delicious air with immense gratitude. You ripped off Shinsou’s mask and repeatedly slapped his stubble cheek. “C’mon, c’mon! Wake up!”

A cough made you relax. Shinsou’s eyelids were barely opened when he croaked, “W-why?”

“I owe you one, remember?”

The corner of Shinsou’s mouth curled, a gurgled chuckle greeting your ears. You stifled a laugh and rolled on your back, staying put until the emergency response team arrived.

You remained in Minato City for eight months. Another couple of days wouldn’t hurt.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Minato City’s nightlife was buzzing with excitement, and there were no signs of stopping. People flocked to their favorite bars, hoping to let loose after a stressful week at work. Salarymen drowned themselves in alcohol and cigarettes without a care in the world. It was the perfect recipe for you to con another unfortunate victim, but you decided to sit this night out.

You gazed at the city’s beautiful skyline. The lights twinkled like precious diamonds on display at a high-end jewelry store. However, you admired the sight from afar since tonight was the last time you’ll see it. By tomorrow, you’ll be in another city to lay low for a while. Keeping yourself off the grid was the best option to throw off your scent from Viper’s nose.

A pebble rolled beside your boot.

“Surprised you’re not down at the bars preying on your next money target.”

“Not really feeling it tonight,” you yawned, sparing a glance at Shinsou. He was wearing his usual hero attire, the mask resting underneath his chin. It gave you a perfect view of his chiseled jawline. You returned your sights on the bright streets and ignored the fluttering feeling in your heart. You coolly remarked, “I see you’re looking well.”

“Injuries weren’t so bad; I experienced worse ones before.”

“I don’t know about you, but it sounds like you’re trying to impress me.”

A deep chuckle was his only response. You raised an eyebrow when Shinsou stood beside you, almost too close than the previous encounters. Your hand clenched inside your coat pocket. Tonight’s weather forecast called for temperatures hovering just above the freezing point. Yet, your skin was feeling hot, and it wasn’t because of the black wool keeping you warm.

“The police interrogated the guy who attacked you,” Shinsou shared, making you still for a second before relaxing. “Heard his name is Voltage with connections to the underground crime lord called Mamba. So far, he’s not giving anything up.”

“And he won’t,” you sighed, watching a drunk guy whistle at a woman who passed by. “Viper and Mamba: they’re brothers who control the drug trade in their respective territories. I guess someone tipped Mamba off that I was in Minato City, and he lured me in with a false heist scheme.”

You leaned against the roof’s edge. “If I didn’t think so quick on my feet, I probably would have been in Viper’s clutches by now.”

“You should speak with the police,” Shinsou ignored your loud snort and pressed forward, “If you cooperate with the investigation, they’ll help you. Maybe place you in a witness protection program—”

“Don’t be so stupid, Shinsou. This is a highly organized crime ring we’re talking about!”

“The police can protect you!”

“No, they can’t.” You raised a finger at the hero, wagging it as you predicted his next response. “And neither can you. Besides, I don’t need someone protecting me. I’ve lived my entire life fending for myself, and I know what I’m doing.”

“And how has that worked out for you, huh?”

“Pretty fine until I made the stupid mistake of staying here!” You jabbed his chest before growling away. Two hands raked through your hair as you paced back and forth. You stopped, shooting daggers at Shinsou. “Like I said, I got bad blood with a few people. I’ve done shit I’m not too proud of, but that’s just life on the streets. You do whatever it takes to survive, even if it means constantly being on the run.”

You spun away from Shinsou, your back straight as a rule and body visibly closed off. Puffs of white smoke slipped through your lips. The wind chill was not very merciful tonight as it froze your poor ears. You closed your eyes and heard Shinsou shuffle closer, his presence growing stronger by the second. His hand was gentle on your shoulder, almost as if he didn’t want to frighten you with the sudden touch.

Your mouth clamped shut when he whispered your name into the brisk night. You clenched your hand tighter when he pleaded, “You don’t have to keep running.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then why did you stay here?” You bristled at the question, and Shinsou noticed. “Why didn’t you run away like before?”

“Because of you.” Shinsou’s hand twitched at the answer. Releasing a shaky breath, you turned around with conflicted eyes. For the first time in your life, your walls were crumbling down—the same ones that shielded you from the cruel world since childhood. It was too late to take back what you said, so you choked out, “I didn’t leave because I think I’m in love with you…and that terrifies me.”

A feathery thumb brushed your cheek. You gazed into his violet eyes; they were striking, yet carried a sense of fondness you’ve never seen before. He never said a word, but you were under his spell. Shinsou’s warm breath caused your entire face to flush once you realized how dangerously close he was in your bubble.

He admitted, with a raspy voice, “I feel the same way about you, except I’m not scared.”

“You’re stupid to think that way.”

“So be it.”

Time slowed as Shinsou lowered his lips and pressed them against yours. The kiss was sweet. Gentle. Innocent. You forgot about everything that was stressing your mind out. All your focus was on his lips—they were incredibly warm and soft and moved in a tender pace. You reciprocated the kiss with a tiny smile, your left hand clinging on his scarf. Shinsou grinned at your impatient tug; you were always so demanding.

However, after months of inhaling his rich scent, you were eager to taste him. You weren’t disappointed when you caught the sweet blend of dark cherry and black raspberry sprinkled along his mouth. A fresh jolt of excitement traveled down your spine. Shinsou’s arm wrapped around your waist, securing you in place. For a moment, you did not want him to let go—you didn’t want to run away from this safe haven.

If only the circumstances were different.

“You know I can’t stay…”

Shinsou didn’t say anything. His eyes, however, spoke volumes of how he felt about your decision. As much as it pained him to do so, he loosen his grasp on you. A portal opened not too far from where you both stood. You squeezed Shinsou’s hand and gave him a sad smile, the corners of your lips barely reaching your eyes.

The golden sparks lit up the dark rooftop, and one leg stepped on the other side. You paused, staring at Shinsou one last time, whispering, “Goodbye.”

Shinsou nodded mutely.

You disappeared into the portal, going on the run once again.

Sixth prompt is crossed off. Which one will be next? Stay tune! Thank you for reading!

Previous prompt: Boy Next Door

Hero Camp Bingo Masterlist

#shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha imagines #shinsou hitoshi #bnha x reader #bnha shinsou #bnhabookclub #hero camp bingo #pro hero au

91 notes · View notes

mythicalsecretsanta · 3 years

Text

A Very Special Trip (T)

This Gift is for: Cyrene (AKA @killthenaughtyboy) Summary: Rhett reflects on the past as he and Link travel and enjoy each other. Learning to be a couple is easy when you’re living the van life. Hi! I’m glad that I got to be your Secret Santa this year. I hope you enjoy this little gift fic that I wrote for you. I tried to incorporate several of the things on your Niceties list, including van life, fluff, a dash of angst, and a sprinkle of fancy panties. I tried really hard to write some smut for you because I know that that was at the top of your wishlist, but unfortunately, smut is not a strong spot for me, and it just didn’t work out in the end. Sorry for any tense errors. I usually write in past tense, but I decided to try something different for this fic. Wishing you a very happy holiday season and new year! From your Secret Santa, Kale (AKA @unsealingkale)

Link to AO3, or read below:

Link looks up into the early morning light, his chin tilted to the sky as he watches the fluffy white clouds drift by far overhead. Rhett has never seen anything quite so beautiful as the other man, and he makes a point to let himself focus on the thought and the feelings attached to it. There is no shame attached to those thoughts and feelings anymore. No guilt or fear. No need to immediately try to force the thought away. Instead, he lets the thought soak into his skin like the sun. Link is beautiful. He loves Link, and it’s okay. It’s more than okay. It’s good. It’s perfect. It’s right.

“Look, it’s a lemon,” Link says, pointing up. Rhett turns his gaze to the sky and quickly finds the cloud in question. It does indeed look like a lemon, round with slightly tapered sides.

“Pretty sure that’s a lime,” Rhett says, just to tease Link. He gets the expected displeased hum and frown in response. It makes him smile.

“It’s way too big to be a lime,” Link insists.

“When is the last time you saw a lemon as big as that cloud?” Rhett counters.

“Okay, fine. It could be either.” Link lies down on the picnic blanket and sighs dramatically, but Rhett knows that he’s not really mad. The shade tree nearby casts shadows on his face. He’s beautiful like that too.

“Nah, you’re right. It’s definitely a lemon,” Rhett agrees. He spreads himself out on the blanket beside Link, careful to avoid the sticky spot where Link had knocked over the bottle of maple syrup half an hour ago. Sharing a pancake breakfast under the dawn sky had been a new experience for both of them, but that was kind of the point. Living the van life has brought them a lot of new experiences. Good ones, mostly, as they learn how to be a couple instead of just best friends.

Rhett digs both of his heels into the grass, far too tall for the blanket. He takes Link’s hand in one of his own, entwining their fingers and settling their hands between their hips. Link turns his face to smile fondly at Rhett. “Love you,” he whispers, and squeezes Rhett’s hand.

“Love you too.” It still doesn’t feel weird to say it like that, without qualifiers. It didn’t even feel weird the first time. It just feels right. Like something they should have been saying all along. He leans over and kisses Link’s cheek, belly warmed by the happy sound he makes in response.

They watch the clouds for a while longer, until Barbara starts barking to let them know that she’s awake and ready for her own breakfast. They go feed her and Jade, and then take them for a walk beside the river. Link suggests that they go for a swim. He bends down to touch the water and shrieks at how cold it is. “Like liquid ice,” he swears, tucking his hand into his pocket. He shoos Rhett and the dogs away from the riverbank like a worried mother hen.

They spend the rest of the morning exploring the wooded park, playing tag and hide and seek along the jogging trail like they are children again. Rhett has never been happier. He’s thankful that Link talked him into going along on this trip. Sharing the tiny bed isn’t even so bad because now he can give into his desire to pull Link into his arms at night instead of trying to maintain some modicum of personal space. The first morning of their trip, he had woken to find Link stretched out halfway on top of him like some kind of living security blanket, still sound asleep. He had lied there in the semi-darkness and cried because he finally got to hold Link like he had always wanted to hold him. This trip was healing them both, replacing bad memories of trading heated kisses in their college dorm room and then pulling away, Link crying and begging while Rhett swore that it was all just a big mistake and he didn’t really mean it. It had never been a mistake. Now, at long last, he could erase those images of Link’s tear-stained face from his mind and replace them with ones of Link smiling with pink, kiss-swollen lips, his eyes soft with love and warmth.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Link asks, as they begin to walk back to the van around noon, both shivering as a gust of wind suddenly drops the air temperature. Rhett looks up at the sky. The clouds have grown dark and heavy. How hadn’t they noticed sooner? He shakes himself out of his thoughts as Link bends over and picks Jade up, tucking her securely under his arm. She nuzzles into his chest. He gestures for Rhett to do the same with Barbara. “It’s going to rain. We’d better hurry.” There’s a pause. “Rhett? You’re being awfully quiet.”

“I was just thinking,” Rhett finally answers, as he settles Barbara against his chest. He picks up his speed back down the trail. It’s not too far back to the van, but he wants to stay dry if at all possible. He stops in his tracks when he realizes that Link isn’t beside him. He looks over his shoulder and finds Link frozen a few feet back down the trail. “What’s wrong?” Rhett calls, jogging back to him.

“You’re not thinking that you regret this again, are you?” Link asks in a tiny voice. The look of betrayal in his eyes makes Rhett’s heart plummet down into his stomach. “I mean, us? What- what we are now?”

Rhett can’t bear to do anything other than engulf Link in a one-armed hug as soon as he reaches him, careful not to jostle the dogs too much. “No! I was just thinking about how much I love you, and how stupid I was not to be honest about it sooner. I will never, ever regret this, Link. I never did.” They’ve talked it out several times, but the doubt is still there. Rhett knows it will take time for it to fade completely, and he’s more than willing to give Link all of the time he needs. He pulls Link even closer and smooches his forehead loudly. He sighs when Link giggles, and then the clouds burst and they are standing in the pelting rain.

It’s freezing, but Rhett bends down and gives Link a kiss anyway, soft and gentle, full of promises that he will keep. Link leans up into it, tasting like pancake syrup and sunshine, and Rhett barely feels the rain. His heated lips melt against Link’s, and he wonders again why he let so many years pass between them when he could have been kissing these lips every day. Link’s shivers bring him back to reality. He breaks the kiss and grabs Link’s hand, tugging him along. And they’re off, jogging back to the van as the rain falls and the dark clouds swirl above them.

After they climb back inside the van and dry off a little, Jade runs to her bed and curls up for a warm nap, while Barbara snuffles around the mini-fridge and whines. Link snorts and pulls a dog treat out from the bag on top of the fridge, tossing it to Barbara. “Like daughter, like father. Bet you’re hungry too, huh?” He looks at Rhett, smirking. He’s still shivering a little, his thin t-shirt clinging to his chest, but his eyes are bright again.

Rhett pats his rumbling stomach. “I could eat,” he admits. What can he say? He’s a big man with a big appetite to match. It’s well after noon, anyway. Past time for lunch.

“Let’s get changed and then we’ll see what we can do about that,” Link says, with a soft smile. Getting dressed in the van isn’t always easy, but they manage to change into dry clothes without too much trouble. Link slips on one of Rhett’s oversized sweaters and turns on the heater so that they don’t catch a chill. They have a nice air conditioning system in the van that lets them stay warm or cool, and makes sure the dogs are safe and comfortable when they have to stay inside while Rhett and Link are out. It’s one of the best features of the van, along with the decent gas mileage.

They eventually settle on driving a little farther to reach the next town when the rain dies down, where there is a famous fried chicken restaurant that they have heard a lot about but never had the chance to try. There is no wait thanks to the fading storm. They slide into the booth side-by-side, like they always do, knees touching, and look over the small menu. Link rests his head on Rhett’s shoulder while they wait for their food, and Rhett lets more good feelings wash over him as he takes comfort in the touch. Link is his boyfriend now. His boyfriend is pressed up against his side, breathing softly. His boyfriend. That fact is still new, but the love he feels isn’t. He wraps his arm around Link’s shoulders and hopes that Link knows how proud he feels to be his boyfriend out in public.

Rhett eats his own meal, two pieces of fried chicken and a pile of mashed potatoes and biscuits, and then he starts working on what’s left of Link’s chicken sandwich and fries. Link shakes his head but pushes his plate closer to Rhett. “Go oo. I’m full,” he encourages. “You know, I’m going to have to buy a lot more groceries when you move in. You’ll eat me out of house and home if I’m not careful. It’ll be like our dorm all over again.”

Rhett knows that he’s teasing, but he blushes anyway. Then he realizes what Link said and looks up at him. Link’s own cheeks are pink, making his eyes seem even brighter than usual. “You want to live together?” Rhett asks. He had suggested sharing a home to save on bills when they had first moved out to California, but Link had quickly shut the idea down. Rhett had tried hard not to think about why, but his gut knew all along. Link didn’t want to go through the torture of living with Rhett and still being just friends, like they had done in college.

“Well, yeah. I mean, if you want to. I think it would be nice.” Link shrugs like it doesn’t really matter, but Rhett knows that the gesture is anything but casual. Link is nervous, asking something important and special.

He drops his voice low and leans to whisper in Link’s ear. “I want to. Want to be close to you all the time. Want to kiss you whenever I want.” He kisses the soft spot below Link’s ear. “We can figure it out as soon as our trip is over. I’ll break my lease for you.”

Link grins bright enough to light up the whole restaurant. “Good.”

“Good,” Rhett echoes, and tosses the last two greasy fries into his mouth.

The meal settles on his stomach like lead bricks, so he insists on stopping at the next rest area for a nap while Link takes the dogs out for another short walk. It feels good not to be bogged down with any obligations for the time being. To be able to lie down in the middle of the day and close his eyes while he digests if he wants to. He dozes off and then wakes, briefly, when the bed dips and Link joins him, curling up next to him on the tiny bed. Rhett wraps his arms around Link’s middle and spoons close. Touching Link casually like this still feels like a small miracle. It’s something that he had wanted for so long, but always denied himself. He slips one hand up inside Link’s shirt just enough to feel the soft, smooth skin of his stomach, and dozes back off to sleep, surrounded by comfort and warmth.

The rest of the day passes slowly, spent driving to the next big destination on their list. Link has always wanted to go to stay at this little campsite they had passed while traveling before, and now seems as good a time as ever. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s nice and well-kept, and is surrounded by thick woods.

They pay for a spot for two nights and settle in for the afternoon. They watch a silly movie on Rhett’s laptop and laugh at how it reminds them of some of their own childhood antics. Link insists on salad for dinner, tired of the day’s rich meals. They walk the dogs again, and then they each take a long, warm shower at the camp’s public bathroom. Link does a couple loads of laundry as well. They make it back to the van just as night finally settles over the campsite.

“Feels good to be clean and have clean sheets,” Link says, as he sits down on their bed and pulls his legs up, crossing them in front of himself. Rhett sits down beside him. “I was getting pretty tired of bath wipes.”

“Yeah, me too,” Rhett agrees. The wipes were better than nothing, but it had been three days since they had last had access to a real shower, and they had both been feeling less than fresh.

“Hey, thanks for coming on this trip with me.” Link looks down and plays with a loose thread on his sweatpants. “I know you didn’t really like the idea. Especially with Christmas being so close and all. Can’t believe it’s tomorrow already.”

“I’m glad I came. You were right. We needed this time away to ourselves.” Rhett reaches over and squeezes Link’s shoulder. It’s hard to believe that their trip will be over in just a few days, after the weekend. “I wouldn’t have traded this time with you for anything. It’s been so much fun.”

“Yeah?” Link looks up, cheeks pink and eyes soft. Once again, Rhett thinks that he has never been more beautiful.

“Yeah. I’m so in love with you, and I’m going to tell you that every single day from now on. No more keeping secrets.” Rhett leans over and kisses Link’s cheek, feeling the flush of his skin through his lips. He nuzzles against Link’s cheek. “You’re so cute when you blush like that.”

“Hush.” Link shifts closer, his knee brushing against Rhett’s side. He brings one hand up to cup Rhett’s cheek. “I love you too. Never want you to doubt it.”

“I never have.” Rhett turns his head to press a kiss to Link’s hand.

Link smiles, showing his pointy bottom teeth. His blush grows even deeper, and he takes a deep breath before he speaks. Rhett waits patiently while he searches for the right words. “Hey, since it’s Christmas Eve, I have an idea,” he says, softly. “If you want.”

“What’s that?” Rhett asks. He’s up for anything, but the deepening blush on Link’s face makes him suspicious. He touches Link’s knee in support.

“I was thinking, maybe, we could do something a little special tonight. Since I’m dressed for the occasion and all.” Link looks away, down, anywhere but at Rhett’s face. He plays with the loose thread some more, twirling it around his finger.

“What special occasion needs a t-shirt and sweats?” Rhett teases.

“I don’t mean the sweats.” Link slowly unfolds himself and stands up, moving to face Rhett. He slips into the space between Rhett’s legs and takes his hands, guiding them to his narrow hips. He makes fleeting eye contact, nervous. “I mean what’s underneath. Go on. Look.”

Rhett slowly pulls down Link’s sweatpants, revealing a pair of red and white lacy underwear. He looks up at Link and smiles. “I see. This is very special indeed.” He tries to sound confident, but his voice almost breaks. They haven’t done anything beyond kissing yet, but here Link is, presenting himself, ready and willing, and Rhett will never turn him down. Not for anything.

“It can be an early Christmas present, if you want.” Link swirls his hips in a small circle between Rhett’s legs, showing off his fancy panties, as the sweatpants slip even lower down his thighs. It’s dangerously sexy, and Rhett finds himself growing aroused at the mere sight.

Rhett puts his hands on Link’s hips again, stilling him. “I want,” he breathes. “I definitely want.” He pulls Link closer, down into his lap. This present is very special, and he wants to savor it. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Can hardly believe this is real.”

“Me neither. Now go on. Aren’t you going to unwrap me?” Link giggles, and Rhett nods, and everything is perfect and as it should be.

They both enjoy the night, and the long life together that follows.

#mythical secret santa 2020 #rhink #rating: T #type: fic #submission

20 notes · View notes

ltleflrt · 3 years

Text

Ltleflrt’s Writing Year In Review

I say this every year, but I wish I’d written more lol. On the other hand, I thought I was probably done writing Destiel early in the year and thought I’d go into writing hibernation until a new fandom or pairing poked my muse in the ass with a sharp stick, BUT I ended up writing a whole ‘nother goddamn 100k+ fic! So I’m thrilled af about that XD

Total 2020 Word Count: 164,013 Estimated 2020 Kudos: 1,846 Estimated 2020 Hits: 32,193

My 2020 Fics:

Hunter’s Caress: 161,095 (18,866 written in 2020)

Castiel Jameson won’t rest until the outlaw who murdered his brother faces justice, and Dean Winchester is the only man alive who can help him track the villain down. Some say Winchester is a cold-blooded killer himself; others say he’d been wronged his whole life. All Castiel knows is that the desire glinting in Dean’s green eyes is even more dangerous than he is. Castiel fights to keep his mind on business, but during the long nights on the trail with the dangerously handsome hunter he finds himself dreaming of yielding to Dean’s illicit kisses and losing himself in lawless passion.

Dean Winchester is about to hang when Castiel saves his neck with his crazy plan. But dying might be better than spending day and night playing nursemaid to such an infuriating city slicker. He appreciates the stubborn detective’s desire for justice, but he’d appreciate Cas a lot more if he’d stop being a lawman long enough to just be a man. He certainly has all the right equipment. Dean aches to run his fingers through Castiel’s dark hair, yearns to know how Castiel’s golden skin will feel against him. And before the coming of the next dawn, Dean vows to teach him the pleasures and sweet rewards of a Hunter’s Caress.

Most of this was written in 2019, which is why my Kudos and Hits are estimated, since a lot of that came from Hunter’s Caress.

I learned so much from this project. It’s based on a favorite book that I read for the first time when I was 11 years old, and have re-read probably twenty times since then. Since I had the book open for reference most of the time I was working on this story, I got to compare my writing to a professional. And y’all know what I think? I’m kinda better at this than they are? Not on the story creation front, because I consider Desperado’s Caress one of the best romance adventures I’ve ever read, but on the technical side of things. Looking at the book with the eyes of a writer, with a little bit of editing experience under my belt now too, I’m just like... this is kind of a mess? It was actually quite a boost to my ego lol

The Thing About Heaven Is...: 2,363 words

The thing about Heaven is that even though Dean has been here before, this time he’s taking the time to enjoy the experience, and things are a lot different than he expected.

I put a note on this fic that I didn’t hate the SPN Finale, even though I didn’t love it either, but I was being generous because sometimes I’ll remember what we got and I’m filled with rage. I wake up in the middle of the night and think of all the ways it could have been better, and lose hours of sleep. I spend far too much time yelling at Jared in my head for talking it up, and also at the imaginary C*W that lives in my head that gets to hear me ranting about how they fucked up so bad at least once a day.

When I say that I didn’t hate the ending, what I really mean is that Dean going to Heaven first while Sam spends time back on Earth was kinda what I was expecting, so those 2 events are not bad in themselves, but the execution and the lack of Castiel on screen completely ruined it for me.

But that’s what fix it fic is for, right? I decided to set my fix it fic post 15x20, because I know more invested and skilled writers who enjoy writing canonverse are going to give us hundreds of post 15x18 goodness, so I’ll let them do that while I work with what we got. This was what gave me catharsis, and even though I’m never going to watch that train wreck of an episode ever again (seriously, I want to rage scream that the last “good” episode was by Bucklemming), I feel like I can come back to this fic again someday and feel some peace when I read it.

Man in the Wilderness: 142,784

As a veteran, Dean has survived more than most people could handle without going completely cuckoo. And he hasn't exactly escaped being a little messed up himself. So he's returned home to the tiny town he grew up in, retreating from a world that has become too much. But when you know everyone in town, the dating pool is shallow and it can be a little bit lonely, even when surrounded by friends and family who love him. And then a drifter on a motorcycle rolls into town, and Dean thinks just maybe this might be the man he's been waiting for.

While wandering the country in an attempt to escape his problems, Castiel's motorcycle breaks down in a small desert town. He's helplessly drawn to Dean, the town's handsome mechanic, and the feeling appears to be mutual. After months of aimless traveling, he thinks he may have finally found his way out of the wilderness.

Technically as of today this is still a WIP on AO3, but I finished the last chapter a few hours ago, so I’m counting the words in my WIP folder too lol

This was a surprise! It’s a SPN/Destiel rewrite of my Mass Effect/mShenko fic Feels Like Home, which is the first story I ever wrote that made me feel like a popular writer. Early this year I was brainstorming ideas for a fic where Castiel was the mechanic instead of Dean, and I jokingly said to @jupiterjames that I should do Feels Like Home, with Castiel as the mechanic. She was enthusiastic about it, but I just laughed it off at first because what a silly idea. Then I started poking at it. Like a bruise. Couldn’t stop.

Obviously I dropped the Mechanic!Cas angle, because it didn’t feel right for the story. But as soon as I thought y’know, what if it was Mechanic!Dean and Drifter!Cas my muse came roaring awake screaming DO IT DO IT DO IT.

So I did. And it was even more of a learning experience than writing Hunter’s Caress! Because now I’m seeing my older writing (7 years holy shit!!), and I’m seeing all the ways I’ve improved over the better part of a decade, and finding even more ways to improve as I go through the rewrite.

For a couple years now, I’ve felt kind of stagnant in my writing. I have felt like I lost My Voice, and I was struggling to figure out what was wrong. Was I just bored? Yes, probably. But also, I think I needed to look back at some of my older works that I fucking loved and thought couldn’t be improved...and improve them.

Just Keep Writing You’ll Get There is good advice. But it wasn’t working for me, because I’ve written 1-2 novels a year since I started writing fic in 2012, so it’s not like I was just staring at my screen and not putting any words on it while I angsted. Read And Rewrite Your Old Shit was the next step in my evolution. I highly recommend it if you’re also feeling stagnant and stuck XD

I’m also super amused, because Feels Like Home was 112k, and at the time it was the longest thing I’d ever written. On accident. Like I do. It was supposed to be for an 8k mini-bang, and I had to drop out because obviously it got away from me and I wasn’t going to make the deadline. As I was doing the Destiel rewrite, I had to keep cutting scenes and characters out that were specific to Mass Effect, and I speculated that the new fic would be shorter than the original. Ha. Hahaha. HahahahahaHAHAHAHAKDJHFADKJHF... fuck I am a wordy bitch.

#oops i ficced #destiel #year in review #2020 year in review #spn finale critical #i'll continue to find the gems in the rubble as much as i can #but sometimes i just gotta say fuck the finale ya know?

15 notes · View notes

alexhandersenx · 4 years

Text

There’s no one to save me

Ivar/Reader (Modern AU)

A/N: Hi everyone! First and most important thing, HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!!💕🎉🎂 @flowers-in-your-hayr I want to wish you all the best on this day, I hope you enjoy this day as much as possible and hope this can make it a bit better! This year may not have been our best birthdays but next year we’ll celebrate them twice! You know I really admire your work but much more as a person! Thank you for always being so so nice, you’re great!💖

Second, here it is, me and my shitty writing. This is the first time I ever write anything (you’ll see) but a lovely little bird came and told me about this amazing surprise (@maggiescarborough 💖) and I couldn’t refuse. This is the moodboard I chose bc when I asked Gabi about it, I wrote more of a mini fic than a request (sorry about that, honey😅) so I thought it’ll be easier since I already have an idea.

And finally, to say that this can be considered as the first chapter of a small fic???, Idk, if you want to read something else, I will continue it and if not, it can stay as a imagine. (Any feedback you want to give is always welcomed and will help me in the future!)

Okay that’s all, I think. Now I'll shut my mouth and let you guys read in peace😊

All credits to this amazing moodboard for the birthday girl @flowers-in-your-hayr

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: First time writing (biggest warning), mention of death and suicide, cursing, drug dealing, a bit of angst, English not being my mother tongue. (I’m not sure if something else😅).

There you were, (Y/N) (Y/LN), facing the most important case you had encountered in your professional career, which, to tell the truth, was not very long. You were 24 years old and you were a policewoman at the local police station on a small island called Samsø, which together with some others as Læsø, Anholt and Sjælland were known as the 'Kattegat Islands'.

You started there when you were 22, with a lot of effort and after years of dedication, yes, it may sound like a joke, since you were very young, but since your father passed away, you decided to follow in his footsteps. He had become chief of police and worked in what was now your office. His death occurred unexpectedly, one day he went to work and didn't come back, your mother and you didn't know anything, but he had been working on a drug-related case for a long time, and they didn't clarify anything for you after his death either, justifying that it was a case of high danger and a secret file.

When your father died, you were given the belongings he was carrying on the day of his death. You didn't find anything out of the ordinary, just his watch, which had his initials on it, the car keys and his wallet, in which he carried the usual: some money, credit cards and a picture of your mother and you as a child. From one of the compartments of the wallet, a small fragment of a photo was sticking out. It was very enlarged, only a small part of the face could be seen, it looked like a man, but his face didn't sound familiar to you and besides the fragment was very damaged, so you didn't give it much importance. Although you were intrigued to know the reason for that fragment in your father's wallet and you wanted to know the identity of that person, unfortunately you couldn't do anything about it. You put the items back in the bag and kept it in a drawer that you knew you wouldn't open often since it was with the rest of his belongings.

After this incident, you and your mother faced a difficult time when living at home without him was almost impossible. After a not very long period, you were able to return to your daily life and continued, but however, your mother did not get back on her feet, she went into a great depression. You tried psychologists at first and slowly it looked like she was getting better, but it seems she only did it to fall into an even bigger black hole.

From then on, you contacted a psychiatrist, after a year watching your mother was consumed with sadness you couldn't stand it any longer, even though she was resistant to taking medication you couldn't do anything else. She had been going to the psychiatrist for some time and the truth was that it wasn't going as you expected, your mother had a very negative attitude. She tried to avoid medication when you didn't force her, and for that reason none of the treatments worked.

You were desperate, time was passing, and you didn't know what to do anymore, until one day when you came home and you found your mother breathing very lightly and not responding to any kind of stimulus. She had decided to take her own life with a bottle of pills, yes, how ironic. When she was taken to the hospital, the doctors told you that her vital signs were very bad, the intake of medication had to be over six hours ago, and this had already affected a large part of the system. It was very difficult for her to survive, so much so that she couldn't.

21 years, just 21 years when you were left alone in the world, when everyone was getting drunk and having a hangover and throwing up the next morning, you were there struggling to get where you were today.

Although you couldn't have reached that point without the unconditional support of your father's great friend, Officer Heahmund. He had been like a second father to you, the only one you could lean on when these events occurred. Both he and his wife Anne and their little twins always had a place for you.

You could say you'd been investigating the case for a year and it was huge, really huge. Both you and your colleagues had reached an impasse, you couldn't get anything new, so you decided to take the reins and make a proposal... raid the shelter where the organization was hiding. You had managed, after a long time of tracking them down, to find out that every Thursday at 11.30 p.m. they went out to do business. If you calculated it perfectly, you could set up an ambush, surround the perimeter with your agents strategically, and force your way in, so you could examine the interior for clear, incriminating evidence and wait for them to come back and finally catch them and finish the damn case. From that point on, the game would begin.

Ivar Lothbrook, or also known as Ivar the Boneless, was the person you were chasing. Known to be the leader of the organization. Information about him was quite scarce, the son of a bitch knew how to remain anonymous, you didn't even know what he looked like. Although he also took part in the weekly excursions, he never got out of the vehicle they were in and you didn't dare get close enough to the shelter to see them leave, just as a precaution, so as not to spoil the case. All you knew was that the nickname he had earned was due to a disease he suffered from that made him unable to walk, Osteogenesis Imperfecta.

But you did know something else about his brothers, who were in charge of leading the band when they were doing field work and his brother Ivar was not there. There were three more brothers, the elder Ubbe, the second Hvitserk and the last Sigurd. You had pictures of them, which you had studied to a tee, and they didn't have any kind of background, something that caught your attention because in all these bands it's something common, but it seems that they were playing clean.

Tomorrow would be the big day and you had no margin for error. You decided to leave it at that, not think about it anymore. You opened a bottle of wine and ordered dinner at your favourite restaurant. You were going to enjoy that night quietly before going into action.

That night you practically didn't rest, your head didn't stop thinking and you were fighting against it for a long time, until finally you were victorious, being able to sleep. You promised yourself that it wouldn't be the only thing you would be victorious in.

The sound of the alarm woke you up, it was very early, although there were still hours to go, you had to be ready and needed to do certain things before preparing. You had arranged to meet at 8pm at the police station, you would go over the plan and wait until 10.30pm to put the plan into action. The day went away, you had gone out to buy some things that you needed, you had done some sport to clear your mind and you had taken a bath for an hour and a half which helped to relax each of your muscles that had been in constant tension for several days.

You got out of the shower, you started to fix yourself and for a moment you looked in the mirror, from bottom to top, and you looked into your eyes, you saw your father, you saw him in you.

- “Ivar, Ivar, what little freedom you have left” - You said in a defiant voice as you kept looking at yourself and feeling sure that everything would go as you planned.

What you didn't consider at the time is that in a game you don't always win, and even less when you don't know your opponent.

A phone call took you out of your thoughts, you hesitated for a few seconds before reacting, you went into the kitchen and picked up the phone:

- “Hi, (Y/N) here”.

- “Hello, sweetheart, how are you?” Your boss asked with some concern in his voice.

- “I'm doing good, getting ready to leave soon. Anything happened?”

- “No, nothing, I just wanted to remind you, that you still have time to stop this, I can send another partner, I don't want you to do this out of obligation” - said Heahmund, with some hesitation.

- “Heahmund, we've talked about this a million times, I'm gonna take care of it. We've gone over the plan every day; we've looked at alternatives in case the first option doesn't work out and you have an expert in infiltrating other people's homes in charge of the plan... What can go wrong? Trust me, before you can tell, we're in your backyard drinking beers with Anne and the girls, celebrating together as a family, while Ivar the Boneless is rotting in jail” - You said with certainty

- “Ever since you were a little girl I've always admired that about you: Determined, brave and a fighter, which has always made you achieve everything you set out to do - he answered with a broken voice” - I just wanted to wish you the best of luck in the world now that no one is around. See you in a bit, Agent 007.

As he spoke you noticed some concern in his voice, was Heahmund afraid of the mission?... Impossible, he was known for his courage and dedication but in this situation, you could not avoid that this insecurity that you did not feel for a long time will hit you again.

Since the death of your father you had changed, you had become steel, as you said, you had no heart for anyone, you had focused so much on getting ahead and getting what you had in mind that you had forgotten one very important thing, being a teenager. And now that time was gone.

Still, you burst out laughing when he called you Agent 007

- “Thank you, Jack Bauer” - you said, playing along, referring to those movies and action shows you loved to watch together when you were younger.

You hung up and then felt a sense of emptiness and… fear? No, you weren't going to let that happen. You certainly knew that you had to occupy your mind at that moment, or you would go crazy. So, you connected your phone to the speaker and put on your favourite playlist and time passed with you getting ready until it was time to leave. You took the bike keys, a beautiful Harley-Davidson and got going.

When you arrived at the police station your colleagues and Heahmund were already there, you went over the plan and waited for the exact time to start.

It was 11:15, the game had begun. You were about to head for the first stop on your mission. The aim in this phase was to park in the surroundings of the main highway, where Ivar and his people had to go through, so you could check that everything was in order, and that the usual Thursday trip would take place. You arrived before time, it was night and the highway was slightly illuminated by distant lanterns. The place had been carefully chosen as there were certain points where you could wait in stealth.

As time passed, you became more and more nervous and couldn't help it. There was something in your head that wouldn't let you concentrate. Heahmund noticed it and said:

- “What's going on in that little head, (Y/N)?” - He said in a sweet tone.

- “Hmm...nothing, I'm fine” - you whispered as you looked for his glance and smiled.

- “Come on, (Y/N), I know you too well to know that something is bothering you”

- “Ugh, I hate you Heahmund… what if they don't come, if for whatever reason today doesn't happen” - you said losing your nerve a little

- “Hey, hey, hey and this? Where's my little fighter? They're going to do it, you'll see, and before dawn they'll all be behind bars”

- “How can you be so sure?”

- “I just know” - he said with confidence and came up to you kissing you on the head

You needed it, you needed someone telling you that everything would be fine, with your 24 years you were tired of playing grown-up, strong and lonely. You had always needed that love, but that side of you was known only by Heahmund and he had always been there to give it to you.

You did not have much more time to get melancholy, it was happening, Ivar and his people could be seen from afar. They were organized in three black armoured cars and four motorcycles guarding the sides. You saw how they passed before you, in a heartbeat everything you had feared had happened, the only part of the plan that did not fall on you had worked. Now everything depended on you. You waited a few minutes and both of you, along with several patrol cars, set off. Some of your colleagues stayed in the place so that they could control when they returned and thus warn those of you who were going to the shelter.

Second stop on the mission, the shelter. Ivar and his people owned an apartment building where they used to stay permanently, it was on the outskirts of town, in the middle of nowhere. You had left your vehicles a few meters behind, also hidden, so as not to cause any noise. You found yourselves walking quietly in the dark with your guns in hand, towards an old building. When you reached the right distance, you appreciated the immensity of the building with enough housing to accommodate several families. The facade was neglected, yellowish-coloured, and you could see the doors of each house, white and many of them peeling and battered. Plus, right next door was what looked like a big warehouse. Everything was surrounded by metal fences.

Your companions began to take their positions as you had planned and you and Heahmund continued to approach, until you reached the side of the fence so that you could climb without attracting attention.

You looked at Heahmund and nodded just as you turned to move forward alone you noticed how he grabbed your arm, your heart racing as he said:

- “I'll keep an eye on everything that happens, the moment I hear something out of the ordinary, even if you don't say the code word, we'll get in and get you out”

- “Damn, Heahmund, you scared me... yes, I know, don't worry” - you said losing your patience a little

And now it was time, holding your SIG Sauer firmly in your hands and checking for the last time that the microphone you were holding in the middle of your bra was properly placed, you were ready to move forward. You approached the front door of the warehouse. If there was anything interesting to look for, it would be there. You pulled the lock pick out of your pocket and picked the lock easily. You opened the door a couple of inches, at that moment your heart felt like it was going to come out of its socket. You checked that the light inside was off, you continued to open it completely and you went inside quietly. It was all dark, you stood still for a few seconds to pay attention to all the sound around you. You could only hear the “tick tock” of a clock. You looked at the wall for a light switch, found it and turned it on. Several fluorescent lights illuminated the big warehouse, some of them failing and blinking making the place even more scary. For a few seconds the light blinded you because of the contrast of the dark night to which your eyes had been used so far. You took a quick look, ducked your head and whispered into the microphone:

- “Clear”

You raised your head and for the first time you stopped to look around. It was immense, the walls were covered with high shelves where there were pots of all kinds, some were full and some were empty, there were boxes, masks, safety goggles, gloves and all kinds of chemical devices. There was a long table on the side with many chairs, some lying on the floor, others on top of the table... that place reminded you of a typical high school lab from which the most you could do was decant a mixture. You were surprised... they were cooking drugs there... "Well, what a dump" you said to yourself; you thought everything would be much more careful and not such a messy place as that.

And in the middle of all that mess, at the end of the room you found a big wooden desk and a big black leather armchair behind it, it seemed that that little space didn't belong in the room, it was all tidy and on the table the only thing that was there was some papers, small pictures and office material. You approached and saw some maps with certain points marked... What were these points? You thought that it could be some meeting place or points of sale, you took out the PDA and uploaded the photo to the police station network.

- “I think I found something, I just uploaded it to the network” -You said in a whisper

You didn't have any answers, nor did you notice much of it, since you got caught up in a huge painting right behind the desk. In it appeared a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair. It was just a painting, but you could feel the elegance of that woman in it. Next to her was a taller man who looked slightly older, shaven and with a long beard with white locks. He was in a suit and showed a great presence just like the woman. But there was something that caught your attention, the look of him, his intense blue eyes seemed to pierce you as if you were seeing them in person. The wrinkles at the corner of his eyes betrayed his maturity. You stared for a while, curious, until you came back to reality, took a quick look again to see if anything could be useful, but nothing. So, you retraced your steps and headed for the door. You tried to communicate with your colleagues again:

- “Guys, nothing else around here, I'm going back to my starting position” - You whispered again.

And at that moment you froze, you were listening to yourself double and your "double" was coming right out the door. Time stopped for you, you didn't understand anything, and the only thing you could think of was to hide behind the door. This one opened little by little and you started to listen how people came in... one, two, three... you were counting the steps to be able to calculate the number of people, you lost the count to the fifth since such a quantity would be impossible to face and come out victorious.

- “SHHHH, shut up... do you hear it?” - said a male voice you didn't recognize.

What you could hear was your breathing shaking through a walkie... at that moment the world fell apart. A police walkie in the hands of those assholes, something hadn't gone right, and you didn't know what.

- “Yeah, it smells weird too, doesn't it?” - said another male voice, but this one sounded much more ironic.

- “I don't know Ivar I don't smell anything... what do you smell?” - Said a third voice, the closest so far to your position.

- “Mmm I don't know it's a disgusting smell, something like... police”

At that very moment they closed the door, leaving you exposed. You saw five men, but you didn't have time for much else as the one closest to you, that you came to recognize was Ubbe, grabbed your arm and made a quick movement blocking it, causing your gun to fall to the ground. He drew you to his body by placing your back to him and holding your neck with his arm, doing a lock around it to immobilize you. You looked ahead, saw a young man slowly approaching you and examining you from bottom to top until your eyes connected, deep blue and intimidating gaze. To tell the truth, he was a very attractive guy, but that idea was automatically erased when you remembered who he was. Something stirred in your stomach, you didn't know if it was fear, hate or a mixture. Slowly a cynical smile appeared in his mouth. Definitely, it was disgust what you had noticed in your stomach seconds ago. You could have tried to get out of that grip, but you didn't see the point, they were five men over six feet. It was impossible, to get out of there. Ubbe kept pressing his arm against your neck, causing your senses to slowly fade away.

- “Well, well, and I thought this wasn't going to be fun" said the boy in front of you in a hesitant voice. - Nice to meet you, I am Ivar Lothbrook - he said extending his hand

That was the last thing you could see and hear before you lost total control over your body and thus your senses.

The game had started... like a shitty one.

#vikings fic #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar #ivar the boneless #modern ivar #ivar imagine #ivar lothbrok #ivar lothbrook x reader #moder ivar imagine #ivar the boneless fic #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar lothbrook fic #ivar lothbrook imagine

75 notes · View notes

keiscait · 3 years

Note

Hi! Hope you're doing okay. I saw your matchups were pretty intriguing so I decided to request a bedroom matchup if that's okay. (I would also like to request a living room matchup so should I resend my application?)

I'm a 5'3" bisexual (male lean) female. Golden brown wavy hair till my mid back. Reddish brown eyes. Caramel complexion. Full lips. I also love a little mole on my lower lip on the left side. Lean hourglass.

The only sport I do is swimming (not competitive all the time. Sometimes I do it for the heck of it or for exercise) and I love it. But that's about it.

I'm a Pisces and a Slytherin. INFP-T (Turbulent Mediator). I'm an introvert so I tend to be a little shy at first and opening up to others takes me a while. But once I actually like a person I would literally kill for them. I also don't trust easily. I have been diagnosed with depression so I don't even trust myself when the going gets rough. Although I have been trying my best to get out of it. I'm also claustrophobic so I tend to avoid crowds and cramped places. Also spiders and I just don't get along. I woke up to the feeling of something crawling up my arm once and I opened my eyes to see it was a spider and since then I can't stand to be in same room as those bugs. Seriously I'll cry otherwise.

I'm a huge astronomy nerd. Stargazing is the second love of my life. I love reading and listening to music. Music is the first love of my life. I listen to almost every except for heavy metal. Don't really have anything against it just that I end up with a headache after listening to it. My favourite type would either be alternative or pop, depends on my mood.

I'm not into gossiping. More of the deep-conversations-at-3am type of person. Offer me dark chocolate and I'll be your loyal servant of the rest of my life (just kidding... mostly). I love learning new things especially about art and culture. I grew up on the coast so I love nature.

I guess I'm drawn to people who have a good sense of humour and are respectfully of other people's boundaries and opinions. Seriously to me the manners that "maketh" the man appeal more than the genes.

I'm not the confrontational type so I seriously can't stand to argue with the people I love. Also I am a tab bit on the sensitive side (perks of being a Pisces *yay*). Like I don't mean to get overwhelmed by the slightest of things but after a hard day if I come back home to see my favourite snack (ramen) and movie (Tangled) ready, I'm probably gonna spend the time meant for "relaxation" on crying because I just get overwhelmed over unexpected things, I'm sorry. That's about it I guess. Thanks!

((I GOT CARRIED AWAY AND WROTE A MINI FIC HELLO))

Hello and welcome, darling! Thanks for paying me a visit. I hope you’re well, I want you to know that this is a safe space for you. Please make yourself at home (⌒‿⌒) I understand you’d like a bedroom matchup, but unfortunately, there isn’t enough info on here for me to deduce a good one (and I don’t want to half-ass your matchup) 😔 But I’m glad you mentioned your interest in a Living Room matchup, so let’s make our way over there! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

For you, I’ve invited...

Akaashi Keiji! (Runner up: Kozume Kenma)

Akaashi has proven time and time again that he knows how to handle people. His understanding of the different ways people think is possibly his biggest strength, and he knows exactly how to adapt to various personalities. The exact reason why I matched you with him. He’s laid back and incredibly pulled together, so there is no way for him to overwhelm you and will never cross any boundaries you’ve set. He seems like a no nonsense type of person, but is used to chaos, and knows how to resolve it because of Bokuto.

- Your relationship with Akaashi would start out with him observing you first. He’ll notice your little quirks, and will be able to detect any non-verbal cues and signs about your mood

- Even when you guys aren’t together yet, he can tell if you find yourself starting to spiral

- The first time he catches it, he won’t push you to talk about it if you don’t want to (and he can 100% tell if you don’t want to), but will still do what he can to make things less overwhelming for you, even in the smallest ways he can

- In return, he will appreciate the fact that you like deeper topics and interests, as he constantly surrounded by chaos and shallow conversations. Totally seems like the type to prefer having a glass of wine in a quiet place over a bar/club

- Another thing he’d love about you is your bluntness and honesty, as he shares the same qualities. You two would be a team!

- Your relationship would be built on the foundation of trust, as you both let your walls down around each other

- Once you two are together, he just has to be taught once, then he will have mastered navigating you down to an art form

- He can tell when you need space, or gifts, or words, or a day out, or an evening walk, or silence, or warmth - as long as it’s within his capabilities, he will give it to you

- In return, just love and respect him, and make sure he knows how grateful you are for everything he does!

This turned into a mini fic askjdhf I hope you like it! (warning: angst, but with a happy ending)

It was dark.

Somehow, you have made friends with the dark - you’re well-acquainted with the way it envelopes you in its quiet. It is an old friend you’ve had a of topsy-turvy relationship with. It shows up in so many different forms - a cup of your favorite hot chocolate; the coast in the nighttime; a confidant when your music blasts from your bedroom speakers. Sometimes, it’s dusted with stars; this is when it loves you most.

But tonight, it was not kind to you. You lay there and feel yourself sinking, cries clawing up your throat with no signs of making it out, so they come out in the form of silent sobs. You wonder why the dark allows you no comfort tonight.

Your phone lights up, a message - but you’re submerged in the company of your old friend, too focused on its bellowing silence.

After a few more moments of trying to swim up, something cuts through the vastness of the night, and you’re back on your bed, in your room, now illuminated with light pouring from the hall. You look back and see a figure standing in the doorway - your boyfriend, Akaashi, brings you back to reality.

He observes you for a few more moments, assessing the situation. Nothing he’s unfamiliar with, but he still has a concerned look on his face. He reached for the lightswitch but stops in his tracks. His voice, sweet like caramel, breaks the silence.

“Should I keep the lights off? I don’t want the light to shock you.” You nod, then he makes his way to you.

He sits on the edge of the bed and places a hand on your figure, his movements all taken with immense care and gentleness.

“I brought you ramen. I figured you haven’t eaten yet.”

You were about to ask how he knew, but he interrupted, “Last thing you texted me was that you were on your way home. That was hours ago.”

“I’m sorry,” was all you could manage. Akaashi just shook his head with a reassuring smile. His hand stayed on you the whole time.

“Please let me help you, my love.”

He held out his hand for you to take it. Suddenly, you no longer felt like you were swimming up - you were back ashore, and right there stood Akaashi Keiji, like a lighthouse in the night.

I CLEARLY GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY BUT I HOPE YOU LIKED THAT, DARLING! Remember, you have a home here, please feel free to pay me a visit anytime.

Thanks for dropping by! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

#haikyuu!!#haikyu matchups #haikyuu matchups #hq matchups #haikyuu requests #haikyu requests #hq!!#haikyuu #haikyuu matchup #hq #livingroom #haikyu matchup #haikyuu headcanons #fukurodani #keiji akaashi #akaashi keiji #haikyuu fic

9 notes · View notes

jujutsu-headcanons · 3 years

Note

Yes to Yuji wrecking Mahito! Just so much yes my boy needs to avenge those wrongfully killed!

See I wanted Geto to be on my shit list (as I'm not normally a bad guy lover) but I swear he wore me down reading the manga. Plus he's just so pretty he makes my brain all static noises 😳 Not to mention that backstory between him and Gojo like YES give me all the drama I need buried drama 🤩

Totally agree on the Mai thing. See I wanted to hate Todo too bc of well him beating on Megumi but the moment him and Yuji were just like "Big Dumb Meat Heads" together I threw that out the window! Those two together are *chefs kiss* Absolutely stupendous I never get tired of them 👌👌👌

Mai on the other hand is just crawling more and more under my skin. Like why you gotta be like that gurl? You wanna go in the crusty corner with Mahito? Cuz you gotta crusty attitude that needs fixing like yesterday 😐

Literary brain tells me it wants more drama/character growth between Megumi and Toji. But my useless overly big heart wants to punch Toji and protect Megumi at all costs bc he just showed up on the screen like the kool aid man and burst right into my heart and I shan't forgive Megumi for that but now I will die for him so ¯\_( ツ)_/¯

But I'm not the only one who lowkey fantasizes about self inserty type day dreams??? Like every day all day I got my thoughts flowing into 500 different lil oneshots I'm too chicken to post anywhere bc I havent written anything in a while and I feel I'm rusty. But your idea! YOUR IDEA WOO BOI- I'm not even a Gojo fanatic (like I adore him but my heart dick thudded elsewhere RIP) but that scene you described of straddling him just to rip his blindfold off in the heat of an arguement that's clearly deadly to either party- Just to see him on the brink of tears fighting back every emotion to slate his composure to cocky/uncaring. Only to have it obviously failing, and the metaphorical reality around you both crumbling along with Gojo's emotional state- Oh God I would read that crap outta something like that. It fills me with the angst and I thrive on it daily *heavy breathing* You should think about posting more of your original content too! Self inserty or not bc that sounds down right brilliant on so many levels

💛anon

Bro I can't help but feel had for Gojo. That shit must have hurted. Like he looked so calm and collected when it all happened but was he really? His best friend potential lover went feral and murdered an entire village AND his family then he tried to kill his first years once and now AGAIN what is happening. Did you see the look on Gojo's face when Yaga told him he went rogue? That was a face of hurt and betrayal he couldn't even begin to understand at the young age of... What was it, 17? 18? He was practically a little itty bitty baby compared to now. I haven't read the prequel yet don't laugh at me but I've heard it hurts so much worse having to face Getou back then AND now. Stupid brain worms, stop fucking around.

I wanted to hate Todo too hut before he even turned good I couldn't. I have a thing for big buff boys who have zero brains and too much brawns I'm looking at you Metal Bat, Captain Ōbi I just wanna adopt/marry them because in all reality they're trying their best. I'm really glad Todo exists and has his big brother delusion because honestly I think that's something Yuji needs, especially in the current arc. Yuji needs as much support as he can get.

PFFFT CRUST CORNER I cannot with you omg they do need to sit on the time out chair for s bit and think about what they've done lmaooo

DID YOU CALL TOJI ZENIN- FUSHIGURO THE FUCKING KOOL AID MAN AHAHAHHHSH oh my god i hate this so fucking much or were you calling Megumi the koolaid man bc really each one is absurd n e wayz I dunno bro I rlly can't wait until Megs wakes up post Shibuya arc and actually has time to process what the fuck happened to him back then. I really want to know if he can connect the dots by himself and realize holy shit that was the source of my daddy issues right there in the flesh and how he reacts to him being a curse and all that. There's so many ways that can go too it's scary to think about.

Low key unrelated but I have a theory that Gojo can see everything from his little cube prison and knows what's going on. Its probably because of the six eyes, or because he's just fucking Gojo, or even because Geto seems kinda sadistic and would do something like that. But I can imagine him watching Megs and Toji fight and it absolutely destroying him. For starters, Gojo killed him .... Right? Wtf is he doing back? What? Second don't commit suicide in front of your kid oh my god Toji what (I'm probably just salty because of a past experience, but also, calm down Toji oh my god) and third I can see it hurting Gojo because in a way it feels like he's been trying to protect Megumi. Its obvious Gojo has this attachment to Megumi, and maybe it's because they've known each other so long, but I don't think Gojo is prepared to deal with the aftermath. Does he have to tell him, if Megs doesn't put the pieces together? Will he have to knock some sense into him to actually tell him? Because he DID try to tell Megs once before and he avoided it like the plague. Its also gotta hurt when you feel like someone's dad and you witness them have a bad interaction with their other dad.

Throw in his daughter being on the brink of death, his other son being emotionally demolished, his second year kids lost in the void and not even his void, his best friend locked him in a box, his other best friend exploded, etc. I think Gojo I pretty distraught even if he doesn't show it

Bro okay my brain is riddled with ideas like this and 90% of them are always angst. Idk where tf they come from half the time but they exist and I hate it. They're always self inserts too.

So I actually read this ask last night, but due to personal reasons I didn't reply to it now, and I actually started experimenting writing out this scenario. I had to stop when I wrote the line "Approximately one year after the first finger was consumed, Itadori Yūji was formally executed. At three minutes to midnight, Sukuna Ryomen was expelled from his body, destroying the vessel along with it. The executioner was none other than the teenager's teacher and mentor Gojo Satoru. When Y/N awoke to this news, they attacked on sight."

Oh god I made myself so sad with that line

And i do really want to post some of my fics, like I did with Nobara Meeting Sukuna For The First Time. However, I only posted that because it was short and simple lmao it was basically just a meme I didn't even run it though grammarly like I do with the headcanons.

I like sticking to the headcanons as of right now because I feel like grammar didn't exist when I make those. I can spell things wrong and leave off punctuation and word then like I'm a third grader just learning English and no one will laugh lmao. Fanfics kinda stress me out because i want them to be perfect. I also have a hard time with fight scenes and transitioning and it's s mess.

I REALLY want to write out my Guardian Angel! Junpei AU because I think it's so cute. Just the idea that this boy is assigned to fight against fate and the higher ups and keep Yuji alive despite him being an idiot and a target is cute to me. Like I just canon him being the plantonic equivalent of in love with this boy and he feels like he rlly owes it to Yuji for trying to save him it's the LEAST he can do. Plus I need the mental imagine if Junpei annoying reader-chan into finding Yuji because "they play a pivotal role in Yuji's future" just for the "pivotal role" to literally be playing therapist and just being there for him and being a medium between Junpei and Yuji because guardian angels aren't allowed to reveal themselves to the person they're guarding but also/// he might risk his wings being stripped just to talk to Yuji one more time////

Okay I'm going to stop now

But yea, maybe if I have time and create little mini works like Nobara Meeting Sukuna For the First Time I'll def post them! I'll work on casually making them longer and soon I'll be confident to posts longer ones. But until then I hope just the headcanons at alright ;-;

#.ask #💛 anon #long post

5 notes · View notes

voicesoffiction · 4 years

Video

youtube

Aaaaah it’s the final part of @gemstoneconstellations Angel With A Shotgun premiers in less than 24 hours! Please support this amazing author in their work it was honestly so much fun to record! You can their full fic here.

I really wanted to break down just some of the things I loved about this fic so seeing as this is the last part I’ll do this now! In no particular order here’s a rapid fire list of me gushing over this fic (warning, there be spoilers ahead!):

Bakugo and Kirishima’s relationship is written so well! The way they interact in each chapter is so natural and dorky and I love it.

The entire relationship with the Bakusquad boys is honestly so well written and Kaminari being shit on constantly is hilarious and I both hate and love it at the same time. Okay but the most compelling scene form them is them all gathering together to write Bakugo ideas to win Y/N back for when he was sober. That’s such bro energy. Here is my head cannon of things they wrote down:

-A picnic at night by lantern light with blankets, chocolates, strawberries and champagne.

-Plan a surprise romantic weekend getaway.

-Order flowers!

-Have a drone deliver them a no.

-What if you bake them this?

-No! Literally do the opposite anything Kaminari says!

Fujio is a gift from god! He’s so well written and adorkable and voicing him was so much fun. His is the star of this fic no one knew we needed until now

The angst? Yes. That’s the good stuff. I love a good cup of gut wrenching angst in the morning!

Drunk Bakugo. That is all.

The trashy news article in part three. yes.

DISNEY LAAAAND

The 180 the story took in part two gave me whiplash and I loved it

The mini universe she built in between fics and little Easter eggs placed in them but also the fact that you could read each fic separately and not be lost is so clever

Just the kids in general, they’re so cute and Dragon King Bakugo, 10/10

“I love it when you talk dirty to me” lmaooo

Corny pick up lines 10/10

I was never much of a Disney nerd but now I wanna watch old Disney movies now? What?!

FUJIO’S BANDANNA IN PART THREEEE

Unbreakable Fuji!!!

Kiri and Bakugo’s fight at the beginning of part 2! It’s so high energy and I can picture Kiri casually dodging Bakugo and his angrily charges the redhead reading his texts the whole time.

" Something else shattered and Katsu—Bakugo was suddenly closer to you. “ Bruh.....bruuuuuuuuuuuh. This line? Had me shooketh, the way the narrator just revoked Bakugo’s first name privileges like that? It’s literally not even two words but it says so much. Honestly one of my favorite things.

There’s so much more but I think I’m done spazzing for now! Anyway yes please support the author and the amazing work they do!

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo imagine #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my her academia fanfiction #fanfiction #asmr #voice acting

28 notes · View notes

the-observant-frisbeetarian · 4 years

Text

George deValier (2015 profile)

since: 05-02-10, id: 2348750, Profile Updated: 06-02-13

country: 🇦🇺 Australia

Author has written 17 stories for Hetalia - Axis Powers.

If I lose the light of the sun, I will write by candlelight, moonlight, no light. If I lose paper and ink, I will write in blood on forgotten walls. I will write always. I will capture nights all over the world and bring them to you. – Henry Rollins

Hi! I’m George. One day, I will be a professor of history, who wears tweed suits and lives in a library. Right now, I am a graduate student, who wears jeans and t-shirts and… um… lives in a library.

Reviews and PMs.

I don’t demand or even expect reviews. They do, however, make me happy. So if you are kind enough to leave one after reading, please know that even though I may not reply, I read every single one, and I am incredibly grateful - your few words of praise have brightened a moment of my day. :-)

If you send me a Private Message and don’t receive a response immediately, please know that I am not deliberately ignoring you. I find it a little difficult to keep up with replying to PMs; if I haven’t responded to your message in at least three months, it’s usually because I’ve, er, lost it. Feel free to send me another one calling me a giant prat and demanding a response.

Fanart and Translations.

I am perfectly okay (quite ecstatically happy, actually) with people doing whatever they like with my fics – whether that be translations, fanart, cosplay, AMVs, whatever. You do not need to ask permission - I will always say yes. All I ask is three things. One: please credit me as the author (and a link to the original story would be fantastic). Two: please let me know so that I can check it out and thank you profusely! And three: something I hate to have to mention, but please never do anything to make money out of these works. Obviously, Hetalia does not belong to me – it belongs to the amazing Hidekaz Himaruya, who is incredibly awesome for giving us such fantastic characters to play with. :-D

MY STORIES

THE VERAVERSE

The Veraverse is a Hetalia World War Two AU, of fics involving different characters and pairings, all living within the same time period and all interconnected in some way. As each story in the series is named after and loosely based on the lyrics of a wartime song sung by Vera Lynn, I flippantly dubbed it the ‘Veraverse.’ The name has sort of stuck, however. I have posted a list of character's birth dates here: http://george-de-valier.deviantart.com/art/Hetalia-Veraverse-Birth-Dates-340315828

This series is, at its core, about the power of love over war. It's about the real reasons people fight, and the real reasons they survive. It's about finding something beautiful in the midst of something ugly and evil. But overall, although I hope there is more to these stories than just romance, they are essentially about love.

Don’t expect every fic to be updated quickly. These stories intertwine, and will be published simultaneously, and it may be a while between chapters for each specific story. Most can be read separately, however a few will require that you read at least one other story in the series to make sense of it (e.g. ‘My Echo’ does not make much sense unless you also read ‘Lily of the Lamplight.’) Rest assured, they will all be completed.

We'll Meet Again Alfred Jones/Arthur Kirkland (America/England)

Complete - Thirteen Chapters

‘We’ll Meet Again’ is about love arriving when you least expect it, and how it can transform loneliness.

Keep Smiling Through Alfred Jones/Arthur Kirkland (America/England)

Complete – One Shot

Just a little mini-sequel to ‘We’ll Meet Again’ about a brief moment in Alfred and Arthur’s lives.

Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart Ludwig Beilschmidt/Feliciano Vargas (Germany/Italy)

Complete - Eighteen chapters

‘Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart’ is about love being blind, proving stronger than hate, and lasting longer than war.

Bésame Mucho Antonio Fernandez Carriedo/Lovino Vargas (Spain/Romano)

In Progress – Fourteen chapters

‘Bésame Mucho’ is essentially about love overcoming fear.

Lily of the Lamplight Gilbert Beilschmidt/Roderich Edelstein (Prussia/Austria)

In Progress – Eighteen Chapters

‘Lily of the Lamplight’ is about selflessness, survival, and how love can change you for the better.

My Echo Unrequited Vash Zwingli/Roderich Edelstein (Switzerland/Austria)

In Progress – Six Chapters

‘My Echo’ is about how true love is selfless – even if it is unreturned.

Jealousy Ivan Braginski/Yao Wang (Russia/China)

In Progress – Six Chapters

‘Jealousy’ is a little different to the other stories in this series. It is about control, madness, and how love has the power to destroy as well as to save.

Something to Remember You By Sadik Adnan/Gupta Muhammad Hassan (Turkey/Egypt)

In Progress – Three Chapters

‘Something to Remember You By’ is about losing love, and yourself with it.

UPCOMING VERAVERSE FICS

Somewhere in France With You Francis Bonnefoy/Matthew Williams (France/Canada)

Darling, where better to meet again than the most beautiful city in the world?

It's a Lovely Day Tomorrow

Toris Laurinaitis/Feliks Łukasiewicz (Lithuania/Poland)

Art. Music. Passion. Destruction. Young, wild love, in the streets of Berlin, on the eve of war.

When I Grow Too Old to Dream Berwald Oxenstierna/Tino Väinämöinen (Sweden/Finland)

“What would you do if I just… took this tree? Claimed it for Finland?”

“I’d let ye take it.”

“This lake?”

“Ye can have it.”

“This entire forest?”

“’t’s yours.”

“Would you let me take your whole country, Berwald?”

“Yes. And you? What’f I just… took this rock?”

“You can’t have that rock. That’s a Finnish rock.”

You’ll Never Know

Elizaveta Héderváry/ Lili Zwingli (Hungary/Liechtenstein)

“But who knows? Maybe you'll meet a charming little Swiss girl with plaits and a basket who likes to yodel on mountaintops."

Elizaveta always hated it when Gilbert was right.

When the Lights go on Again

Eduard Von Bock/Raivis Galante (Estonia/Latvia)

"I will stay with him through this darkness. I will give my soul to keep it from him. And I swear, whatever I must do, that Raivis Galante will live to see the lights go on again.”

Room Five-Hundred-and-Four

Herakles Karpusi/Kiku Honda (Greece/Japan)

“Life's most important conversations take place in bars. Perhaps in places not too dissimilar from this - perhaps between people not so different from ourselves. Bars, after all, are where people meet, and where they rejoice; where they forget, and where they say goodbye. They are the crossroads of life."

"You sound like a philosopher. Though your name suggests a hero."

Faraway Places

Bad Friends Trio (France, Prussia, and Spain)

“Ah, those were the days, huh, Gil? Remember the time you tried to take on the entire Parisian police force?”

“Or the time you knocked yourself out running from that bull in Pamplona?”

“Or that time Francis tried to seduce your grandfather?!”

“Francis what?”

“Oh, look at that, I’ve finished my drink.”

Autumn Leaves

Augustus Roma Vargas (Ancient Rome)

But I miss you most of all, my darling, when autumn leaves start to fall.

OTHER FICS

THE MAPLEVERSE

This is a currently small modern AU, set in modern day Canada.

La Patisserie de la Rose Francis Bonnefoy/Matthew Williams (France/Canada)

Complete – Six Chapters

A birthday present for Claudia, aka ThisCouldTheoreticallyBeSparta

An essentially fluffy Franada with lots of cameos and cake and general silliness. I like to think this story is about friendship as much as it is about love. It's also about seeing something in someone that no one else can - not even themselves.

Libelle Hall Gilbert Beilschmidt/Roderich Edelstein (Prussia/Austria)

In Progress – Three Chapters

A Gift for Kay, aka Kay the Beta

‘Libelle Hall’ is about change, and about love growing from self-realisation. It’s also an examination of Gilbert and Roderich’s characters, and how they aren’t that different from each other, after all. And it’s a gift for my beta Kay, because she loves PruAus, and she’s awesome.

Of Ponies and Edelweiss Gilbert Beilschmidt/Roderich Edelstein (Prussia/Austria)

Complete – One Shot

A Valentines’ Day present for Claudia

Just a fluffy, romantic little fic for Valentines’ Day. Well, as romantic as Gilbert gets, anyway.

ONGOING MULTI-CHAPTERS

Catch Perfect Berwald Oxenstierna/Tino Väinämöinen (Sweden/Finland)

In Progress – Twelve Chapters

‘Catch Perfect’ is basically proof that I can’t even write crack without some semblance of plot and angst. I am still writing this, just ever so slowly.

The Tiger and the Dragon Ivan Braginski/Yao Wang (Russia/China)

In Progress – Seventeen Chapters

I first posted this story almost three years ago. Last year I started re-publishing it, mainly to fix up the writing quality and some plot points. Yes, it’s melodramatic; yes, it’s a bit cliché. Basically, if this were a published novel, it would be the type to have GAY EROTIC ROMANCE in tacky writing across the cover. But really, what the hell, it’s fun. :-D

COMPLETED ONE SHOTS

Stay With You Germany/Italy

A rare story with the characters as nations, and my very first posted fanfiction. I had just discovered Hetalia when I wrote this, and loved the random humour of it, but also wondered what it could be like if it was a more serious take on the Second World War. Also, it has always been blatantly obvious to me that Germany and Italy are in love with each other. Like, duh.

Gallipoli Australia and New Zealand

Another nation story from me, about a conflict embedded in the consciousness of every Australian. We haven’t been given much to go on with Australia’s characterisation, so I went with my gut instinct – he’s anti-authority, he’s an easily broken optimist, and he cares deeply about his men. Gallipoli shattered the romantic idea of war for this country. I think it would have shattered Australia, too.

Sleep, Little Bird Berwald Oxenstierna/Tino Väinämöinen (Sweden/Finland) and Peter (Sealand)

There is not much I can really say about this one, except sorry. Oh, and that it’s not in the same universe as ‘Catch Perfect.’ I wouldn’t do that. ;-)

LINKS!

http://george-de-valier.deviantart.com (deactivated account) - Where I fave and comment on the wonderful artwork that people have drawn for my stories. I adore fan art, so please tell me if you have drawn any! If I happen to come across art for my stories that I haven’t been told about, be warned, I WILL proceed to fave and comment on it anyway. :-)

www.youtube.com/user/ykwyh26 - My lovely and talented beta Kay’s YouTube site, where you can hear all the songs from my Veraverse stories.

VIDEOS

I am incredibly flattered that the amazingly talented Alyss Lane has written a gorgeous song based on ‘Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart.’ It is called ‘Auf Wiedersehen,’ performed by Willow, and you can hear this beautiful song here – www.youtube.com/watch?v=2N8T4oIppS0

The following are awesome AMVs for my fics, made by some very talented artists.

The Veraverse

Sanctuary, by Insomniac3Ltd

www.youtube.com/watch?v=dfvTV5b9Zwk (unavailable)

We'll Meet Again

We’ll Meet Again, by Shokora15

www.youtube.com/watch?v=M4COUwq9yzA

Wild Horses, by SirenShadow95

www.youtube.com/watch?v=DaiMnawL3hM

Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart

Stereo Love, by snobo52

www.youtube.com/watch?v=UH8-zY-3qiI

If I Die Young, by NightmareCCL

www.youtube.com/watch?v=BkoVnwzwLlU

Stay, by PastaWithWurst

www.youtube.com/watch?v=-i61AAOfNm4 (unavailable)

Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart, by Sydney Amber

www.youtube.com/watch?v=nM9anzT81tM

Home, by Sanity4Fire

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZjPTML1vjXA (unavailable)

Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart, by ShiroBaraLuv123

www.youtube.com/watch?v=qltINwf-ZkU (unavailable)

Bésame Mucho

Fear, by ykwyh26

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ua5Ak4O9P88

Slow Dancing in a Burning Room, by Kayleigh Turgeon

www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pDaLTw5wIs (unavailable)

The Only Exception, by InuLoverNr1Hitomi

www.youtube.com/watch?v=4pt_sHtZfIw

Don’t Tell Me You Love Me If You Don’t Mean It, by AnnoyingGirl1234

www.youtube.com/watch?v=DkcTKOAN8Y8 (unavailable)

Lily of the Lamplight

Lili Marlene, by xxEmoxxChibixx

www.youtube.com/watch?v=otYq31Qnct8

Sleep, Little Bird

Sleep, by Hetaliagirl96

www.youtube.com/watch?v=6tOCsWjpNsk (unavailable)

La Patisserie de la Rose

Take Me Home, by Ahogemako

www.youtube.com/watch?v=IwsX1rJ2CDo

Something to Remember You By

Lullabies, by Lanie P

www.youtube.com/watch?v=WnRXhe2cdZw

STORIES WRITTEN FOR ME

These are all fantastic. Please check them out, you won’t be disappointed!

Mi Piachi perché Mi Piaci, by ThisCouldTheoreticallyBeSparta

(GerIta, Spamano, PruAus, BelgHun and teeny mentions of Franada, Netherlands/Australia, UsUk)

A wonderful birthday present of fluffy GerIta goodness from my wonderful friend Claudia.

www.fanfiction.net/s/7601790/1/Mi_Piaci_perche_Mi_Piaci

Maple Street, by fubibliophile

(Canada and America)

A really cool, atmospheric one shot from the very sweet fubibliophile.

www.fanfiction.net/s/7796628/1/Maple_Street

Chapter Four of Hetalia Fairy Tales, by Kitty-Kat Allie

(GiriPan)

An incredibly sweet GiriPan fairy tale from a wonderful author and a lovely person.

www.fanfiction.net/s/7730679/4/Hetalia_Fairy_Tales

1. Something To Remember You By » reviews

VV AU. 1914. Constantinople, Turkey. On the eve of war, street dweller Sadik Adnan's way of life and existence is called into question by the strange, beautiful Egyptian imam, Gupta Muhammad Hassan.

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: M - English - Romance/Tragedy - Chapters: 1 - Words: 4,732 - Reviews: 73 - Published: 5-30-13 - Turkey & Egypt

2. Lily of the Lamplight » reviews

WW2 AU. Austrian musician Roderich and German soldier Gilbert are forced into an army prison unit and a fight for survival on the Russian Front. But in the midst of blood and death and hell on earth, how long can they fight their desire for each other?

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: M - English - Romance/Angst - Chapters: 4 - Words: 27,329 - Reviews: 557 - Updated: 5-21-13 - Published: 11-20-11 - Prussia & Austria

3. Libelle Hall » reviews

Modern AU. When Roderich Edelstein – student, musician, and reluctant activist – attempts to save a local music hall from destruction, he is not prepared for the conflicting emotions evoked in him by arrogant demolition worker Gilbert Beilschmidt. Gift fic for Kay the Beta.

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: T - English - Romance/Friendship - Chapters: 2 - Words: 8,900 - Reviews: 174 - Updated: 5-6-13 - Published: 2-20-13 - Prussia & Austria

4. Jealousy » reviews

WW2 AU. Insane Russian Commander Ivan Braginski is the terror of his battalion and his enemies alike. He controls the lives of thousands - but it is the memory of one that controls his own. Tie-in to 'Lily of the Lamplight.'

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: M - English - Romance/Tragedy - Chapters: 1 - Words: 3,077 - Reviews: 80 - Published: 11-29-12 - Russia & China

5. The Tiger and the Dragon » reviews

Human AU. Awkward, average chef Yao Wang is sick of being thought of as boring and predictable. When he meets the enigmatic and slightly unnerving Ivan Braginski, Yao is immediately captivated. As he falls deeper it becomes apparent just how dangerous Ivan really is… but Ivan is just as smitten, and Yao may be too in love to care about the consequences…

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: M - English - Romance/Drama - Chapters: 4 - Words: 12,967 - Reviews: 155 - Updated: 11-15-12 - Published: 8-25-12 - Russia & China

6. My Echo » reviews

WW2 AU. Captain Vash Zwingli is a soldier in someone else's war; a man mad enough to lead where others will not. He treads a fine line between life and death, between sanity and madness, in a constant battle to forget. But when Vash's past confronts him in the worst place on earth, will it finally tip him over the edge – or give him a chance for redemption? Unrequited SwissAus.

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: M - English - Angst/Drama - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2,378 - Reviews: 73 - Published: 11-15-12 - Switzerland

7. La Patisserie de la Rose » reviews

AU. Accountant Matthew Williams is used to being unnoticed, ignored, and forgotten. That is until pastry chef Francis Bonnefoy appears like a burst of colour in his dull, grey life. Gift fic for TCTBS.

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: M - English - Romance - Chapters: 6 - Words: 35,111 - Reviews: 573 - Updated: 10-10-12 - Published: 12-9-11 - France & Canada - Complete

8. Catch Perfect » reviews

AU. When Berwald loses everything he is forced to move into a share house with an insane Dane, a sociopathic Norwegian, an unfathomable Icelander and a perfect Finn who makes it all worth putting up with.

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: T - English - Romance/Friendship - Chapters: 8 - Words: 36,538 - Reviews: 582 - Updated: 9-22-12 - Published: 10-10-10 - Sweden & Finland

9. Blue, White, Red » reviews

Human AU. 1777; The American Revolutionary War. Three times, American rebel Alfred Jones meets British soldier Arthur Kirkland. One blue; one white; one red.

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: M - English - Angst/Romance - Chapters: 3 - Words: 5,981 - Reviews: 369 - Updated: 9-20-12 - Published: 8-26-12 - America & England/Britain - Complete

10. Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart » reviews

WW2 AU. Feliciano Vargas is a passionate, if slightly scared, Italian resistance member. Falling in love with a German fighter pilot was the last thing he expected... and it will test his national loyalty, and his heart, to their limits.

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: M - English - Romance/Angst - Chapters: 18 - Words: 104,322 - Reviews: 3246 - Updated: 8-11-12 - Published: 12-18-10 - Germany & N. Italy - Complete

11. Keep Smiling Through » reviews

'We'll Meet Again' mini-sequel. Keep smiling through, just like you always do; 'til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away! USUK

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: K - English - Romance - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2,376 - Reviews: 172 - Published: 6-28-12 - America & England/Britain - Complete

12. Bésame Mucho » reviews

WW2 AU. Lovino Vargas only ever wanted something exciting to happen in his boring, everyday Italian village existence. He never expected war, Resistance, love, passion, treason, or a cheerful, confusing, irritatingly attractive Spanish freedom fighter.

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: M - English - Romance/Angst - Chapters: 5 - Words: 39,037 - Reviews: 817 - Updated: 5-30-12 - Published: 8-1-11 - Spain & S. Italy/Romano

13. Of Ponies and Edelweiss » reviews

Gilbert Beilschmidt is not, generally speaking, a romantic man. Which makes his behaviour this particular Valentine's Day a little odd for Roderich to understand… Gift fic for TCTBS; spin-off of 'La Patisserie de la Rose.'

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: T - English - Romance - Chapters: 1 - Words: 4,143 - Reviews: 130 - Published: 2-14-12 - Prussia & Austria - Complete

14. Sleep, Little Bird » reviews

Human AU. Tino, Berwald and Peter are the perfect family. Things like this don't happen to people like them. But when they do, how are they supposed to accept it?

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: T - English - Family/Tragedy - Chapters: 1 - Words: 4,169 - Reviews: 294 - Published: 9-26-11 - Finland & Sweden - Complete

15. Gallipoli » reviews

Gallipoli, April 25, 1915. Australia is a young nation with plenty to prove. And war is where nations prove themselves.

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: T - English - Drama/Angst - Chapters: 1 - Words: 4,966 - Reviews: 48 - Published: 4-28-11 - Australia - Complete

16. We'll Meet Again » reviews

WW2 AU. London pub owner Arthur Kirkland is driven to distraction by loud, brash American fighter pilot Alfred Jones. Unable to stop it, Arthur finds himself falling for Alfred's charms... just as the pilot is preparing to leave for war.

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: M - English - Romance/Angst - Chapters: 13 - Words: 43,415 - Reviews: 1376 - Updated: 1-20-11 - Published: 7-18-10 - America & England/Britain - Complete

17. Stay With You » reviews

Germany lies defeated and alone in the aftermath of the Battle of Berlin... but not everyone has abandoned him.

Hetalia - Axis Powers - Rated: T - English - Angst/Romance - Chapters: 1 - Words: 1,325 - Reviews: 66 - Published: 5-4-10 - Germany & N. Italy - Complete

THANK YOU MARVINHERE FOR FINDING THIS!

#George deValier #George devalier profile #George devalier profile transcript #George devalier summaries

104 notes · View notes

hallie-fics · 4 years

Text

author spotlight - still_i_fall

He wants to forget how it felt to be hers for just one second.

- remember it’s all pretend @in-my-head-i-do-everything-right

one of the most prolific writers in the hallie fandom, @in-my-head-i-do-everything-right (still_i_fall) has graced us with classic after classic. i had an absolute blast talking with her, and hope you all enjoy the interview!

q&a

Hey! Thanks again for including me in this! Very excited to answer the questions. I love talking about myself.

Favorite of your stories (and why)

I almost got stuck on this question. I really want to say remember it’s all pretend because I am so incredibly proud of that one. It was the first multi chapter fic that I ever properly finished and I feel like that really means something to me. I also really love that concept, and how it was able to fit in slowburn and enemies to friends to lovers and mutual pining plus a million other little tropes. And, most of all, it was really fun to write. It happened really easily. It’s something I’ll go back to sometimes if I’m ever in the mood to reread my own work.

But I also love this new thing that I just wrote called i just wanna dance with you. I think if I can pull it off, it could be something really amazing. I was able to write the first chapter in about a week and had a ton of fun doing it. And I really love writing Harry’s pov and just switching things up a little. Ugh, I really love the idea of hallie meeting/knowing each other as little kids and I think that’s pretty apparent in these two fics.

Easiest story to write

I’ll stop the world (and melt with you) happened really quickly which I guess qualifies it as easy to write. I thought it’d be more difficult just because so much of it is dependent on canon which is something I’m not entirely used to, but it ended up going to fast. I think somewhere I still have a page of notes on that Prom episode and everything that happens to Allie and Harry. I really wanted to include pieces of dialogue from the show.

I also think it was because I used to do this thing when I was bored where I’d think about who I’d want to be trapped in a Groundhog day like loop with and what’d I’d do. It was just this recurring thought/ daydream I had when I was younger so it’s definitely a situation that I’ve thought through a little.

Hardest story to write

The taste, the touch, the way we love has been a pain in the ass to write right from the start. Sometimes it’s really fun, but I think I’ve been sticking way too close to the outline I drew at the very start and have been avoiding writing it for too long. Sometimes I absolutely love to write it and have the time of my life, and other times I hate it. There’s not much of an in between. Still definitely want to finish it. Just waiting on that final bit of inspiration.

Pre-writing process

I’m all about doing a full outline. Usually. With most longer fics (anything I think will be over 6,000 words), I do a full outline where I plan out the progression of the fic and specific scenes and pieces of dialogue. Usually, the plot hits me all at once and is usually the easiest part of the writing process for me. From that original outline, I usually have at least a few specific scenes fully planned out with pieces of dialogue and/or exposition. For example, for i’ll stop the world I started out the planning process with the introduction piece of the fic. That first paragraph is straight out of the note apps on my phone. A lot of the time it’ll end up being a bullet point list of main bits. I’ll use parentheses to specify the tone of a scene or little details and then use brackets for things that I want verbatim in the fic.

But sometimes I end up with very little pre-planning. The skating au is kinda the only good example of this. I only had the roughest of outlines for that one (how i wanted the first chapter to start and end) and everything else just came together as I tried to get from point A to point B.

What drew you to Hallie

The potential. They could have a really great story and I think that’s fun. There’s a lot of chemistry there and their dynamic is fun and, yeah, I think I’m a little too far in to get out now.

Favorite line (or lines)/ section you’re proud of

God, I have so many. Hope you don’t mind me going through them. It’s incredibly self indulgent but also gives me an excuse to go through my old works.

From the very first hallie fic I ever wrote, how you wish it would be all the time:

“And Harry's not perfect. He's not what she wanted before this all started or even really after, but everything's different now.”

Sometimes I forget about this fic, but I really shouldn’t cause there is a solid chance that this was my peak. And this line is really fun.

From we kiss and we keep busy:

“The stars may have moved a little bit, but they’re still there, and they still look the same, and that’s good enough for her.”

I promise I’m not going through every hallie fic I’ve ever written but god I love this line.

From i saved a picture where your hair was braided:

“It’s late nights and long talks and video games and cookie dough. It’s almost kisses, then definite kisses, and then not wanting to wake up anywhere but his bed. That’s how she starts to fall in love with Harry Bingham.”

Just that last part. That last line. The rest is just there for some fun context. Fun fact: this entire little mini fic was a desperate attempt to stave off writer's block and is based entirely around that single line in the song Donna by the lumineers. Still had a lot of fun with it, though.

From remember it’s all pretend:

“He wonders when she’ll realise that this hasn’t been pretend for him in years. Probably never. (He’d still run away with her.)”

“In the back of her mind, Allie wonders why she didn’t try harder to stay with Harry, why now she can only seem to fall in love in front of a camera where there’s the promise of pretend.”

“She likes to think that they’re still friends, that they’re just friends who don’t talk anymore, two people who drifted because one couldn’t handle the idea of change.”

This fic has a million little bits that I love. I could literally go on forever. It’s just full of that mutual pining angst that I live for.

From but i close my eyes and i’m somewhere else:

“She did not mention this earlier because she was trying desperately hard to ignore it, but fuck, she’s really missed him calling her Pressman.”

“She wonders if Cassandra has any travel sized neck pillows.”

This fic is surprisingly good seeing as I don’t remember writing it at all. I was very much high on some sort of flu medication while writing this and I think that explains a lot about this fic. It’s fun, though. I really love the tone.

From the taste, the touch, the way we love:

“She starts to feel like she couldn’t avoid Harry if she wanted to (and somehow, as the days turn into weeks, she finds herself not wanting to more and more).”

“There’s saltwater in her eyes, hair, and mouth. Harry’s leaning back in it, floating. She is too. The water is blue, and warm, and the sky is clear. Sometimes his hand will grab hers just to pull her closer. When she thinks of calm, of happiness, and vacation, she’ll think of this moment.”

“They’re quiet for a moment. Maggie Rogers can be heard in the background, faded and slow. Harry’s tapping his fingers along to it on the wheel, eyes staring straight ahead. The road is lined with trees, and it all feels like home.”

“For a half a second, she thinks she loves him. She pushes that away and watches him throw wrapping paper behind him dramatically. She pushes it away and she smiles and she laughs and she tries not to think too hard about what all of this means.”

This fic definitely has its moments. I’m really excited to get the last part done and out, though. I just feel like I’ve spent too long on this fic. I want it done.

From i just wanna dance with you:

“Allie met Harry the same day Cassandra did. It was early in the morning and she was four and now, when she looks back, all she can remember from the moment is the vague outline of wild hair and a smile so bright and wide and carefree that it really can’t be anyone else’s.”

“She tries to remember that she likes skating with Will, that there’s no point in wondering what it’d be like if things were just a little bit different.”

“She lied earlier; gold, silver, bronze, doesn’t matter. Harry always looks good.”

“The first time he ever placed first in a competition, she was skating with him. He wonders how long he’ll associate the feeling of a gold medal around his neck with her hand in his. He hopes it’s not long. “

I’m so excited to finish this fic like you guys don’t even understand. It’s really fun and it feels easy to write (so far; knock on wood) and I love the concept.

What type of Hallie stories do you like to write/read?

I only write au’s just because I think the rules are little different, everything’s just a little bit more relaxed. You’re allowed so much freedom when it’s a completely different universe and I really love that. I went through a phase recently where I was obsessed with canon divergence and this whole idea of a history of contingency. Just there being these points or moments where if one thing was just a little different, everything would’ve changed. I love that and I think that’s really apparent in my drafts/ unreleased wips.

I’ll read anything, though. Especially with the Hallie ao3 page being so small. I do definitely have a preference still towards au’s, though.

How long have you been writing

For forever. As a kid, I’d fill up entire notebooks with story ideas. It was my favorite thing to do. When I was twelve, a teacher complimented my writing, and I think that really stuck with me. It’s just something I’ve always enjoyed doing.

Do you ever worry about how your stories are received

Not really. A little bit with multi chapter stories just because I really want every chapter to be better than the last. I just really don’t want to disappoint anyone.

What’s the hardest part of writing for you

The middle bits. I usually have a very clear idea of the beginning and end so it’s everything in between that I have trouble with. I think that’s why I’m so big on outlining.

Do you ever get writer's block and how do you deal with it

Oh my god all the fucking time! Right now, for example. Usually, I just try to work through it, especially if I have a project in progress. I also do a lot of reading to try to force some sort of inspiration. A lot of what I write is based on what I’m reading. I’ll also listen to music. And, recently, I’ve been making mood boards for my fics which has been so much fun. I really like looking at pretty pictures.

Biggest risk you’ve taken as a writer

Lol I don’t really take risks. I think the riskiest thing I do is post the first chapter of a story with none of the second chapter started. I do that a lot.

Favorite Hallie trope

Reluctant friends to very good friends to lovers. Also, living together without establishing a clear relationship. I write that a lot. Mutual pining is always fun too.

Favorite Hallie headcanon

That Harry calls Allie ‘Pressman’ which forces Allie to call him ‘Bingham’. I just think there’s something so fun about calling someone by their last name. Plus, then you get that moment when the first name is used and that gets to be significant. Oh, also that they both swear like sailors, but that’s mostly self-insert on my part.

This felt very self indulgent, but I hope it was at least somewhat enjoyable for someone.

I am forever waiting to read whatever @in-my-head-i-do-everything-right writes next. It was great to see some of the behind the scenes and I would definitely recommend her latest release cities you’ll never see on screen.

#the society #hallie #author spotlight #in-my-head-i-do-everything-right #still_i_fall

9 notes · View notes

hearts-hunger · 5 years

Text

So Much Better || Poly!Queen

Summary: Freddie comes in to rehearsal with a hangover, and his boyfriends fuss over him. Companion to this mini fic!

Pairings: poly!queen

Genre: Fluff, a tiny bit of angst if you squint

Word Count: 1.6k (she’s babey)

Warnings: None, besides my own unbeta-ed writing :P

A/N: This one’s for the sweet nonnie who asked me to expand on the poly!queen drabble I wrote for when Roger comes in with a hangover. It’s a bit long to put as an answer to an ask, so I decided to give it its own post. I hope you like it! ♡

Freddie stumbles into rehearsal with barely a minute to spare. He’s grateful for the dimmer light of the studio compared to the irritatingly bright morning sun outside; in fact, everything about the studio is especially nice considering the massive hangover he’s only possibly living through at the moment. It’s dark and cool; he smells coffee brewing, dark, just like John likes; the sounds of the street outside dull as the door closes behind him and the soft hum of Red Special drifts through the air. He takes a moment at the door to collect himself before heading in to greet his boyfriends.

Brian’s sitting on the floor, his long legs taking up an endearing amount of space on one of the soft Persian rugs that cover the studio floor wall to wall. He’s cradling Red Special in his lap, re-stringing the E, plucking gently and drawing a soft twang from the string as he tightens it. His curls fall over his face and his lips are parted slightly in concentration.

John is sprawled over the couch, one of his legs draped amusingly over the back of the sofa as he frowns at the piece of paper in his hand. He bites the end of his pencil, muttering quietly to himself, working out lyrics in his head. His expression brightens when he finds the right word, and he hastily scrawls it on the slightly crumpled sheet of notebook paper.

It takes Freddie a minute to spot Roger, but eventually he finds the blonde tinkering away at the underbelly of his drum kit. He adjusts the height of the toms, letting out a sharp curse and snatching his hand back as he pinches his finger in the process. Freddie chuckles; no matter how many times Roger adjusts the kit, he almost always has a wound to show for it. Roger tucks his hair behind his ear and tries to be a little more careful as he returns to fixing the offending drum.

“Sorry I’m late,” Freddie ventures after a moment, his voice louder than he’d expected in the comforting quiet of the studio. All three of his boyfriends look up, not having heard him come in; their expressions range from happy to worried to amused as they take stock of him.

“Fred!” John says cheerfully. “You came!”

Freddie can feel a slight blush warm his cheeks. “Of course I did, silly. We have rehearsal.”

“Yeah, but you look bloody knackered, love,” Roger says, hopping off the drum risers. He sticks his hands in his jeans pockets and gives Freddie a chaste kiss. “You sure you’re alright to be here? You had an awful lot to drink last night.”

Freddie gives a flippant wave of his hand. “Don’t I always?” he says, deflecting. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. I’m here, aren’t I? So let’s get this show on the road.”

“You’re sure?” Brian asks, getting to his feet and putting Red Special in her stand. He comes over to Freddie and brushes his cheek with the back of his hand. “We were going to let you sleep it off.”

Freddie sighs at the soothing coolness of Brian’s skin against his. “Yes, darling, I’m sure,” he insists, though his stomach feels a bit too rocky for it to be the truth.

John folds his paper and shoves it in his back pocket before coming up to Freddie and taking his hand, kissing his knuckles in a sweet gesture that’s very like their youngest boyfriend to give. “Fred - ”

“John, my flower, I love you more than anything; but if you also ask me if I’m sure I’m alright, I won’t speak to you for a week.”

John’s smile is cheeky and he beams under the pet name. “Okay, Freddie,” he agrees, though he does it more to please his boyfriend than because of any real assurance that Freddie is as fine as he says he is. He kisses Freddie’s cheek. “Whatever you say.”

“Now, that’s more like it,” Freddie says briskly, trying his best to put on the front of the lead singer who’s all business rather than the pathetic, dreadfully hungover boyfriend he is. He claps above his head and they disperse to their spots, retrieving instruments and settling for the first run-through of the morning.

“What’s up first?” Freddie asks Brian, who’s always the most organized of them all and actually keeps track of what songs they have to get through.

“I thought we’d try Deaky’s new song,” Brian says, giving the bassist a gentle smile. “We sort of went through it before you got here, Fred, and I’d like to see how it sounds all together.”

John blushes. “Oh, well, it’s not quite finished,” he says bashfully. “And I don’t know if it’s any good, really, it might be complete rubbish.”

“Not possible,” Roger says firmly from his seat behind the drum kit. “Besides, what we worked through earlier was quite good. Go on and count us in, lovely.”

John beckons Freddie over, and Freddie stands beside his youngest boyfriend to look over his shoulder at the lyrics scrawled on the paper sitting on the music stand.

“Just, y’know, I was thinking that you’d start just after Rog comes in - ” His eyes light with excitement. “And maybe you could play some piano for it, if you wanted, I think that might be nice.”

Freddie chuckles. “If you want me to, my love,” he says sweetly. John has a tendency to get ahead of himself when it comes to songwriting - he’s got a whole vision in his head from the beginning, and it all comes tumbling out in an enthusiastic, chaotic jumble. “Let’s go through this first run-through, and then we can talk about piano, ok?”

John flushes. “Right,” he says with a laugh that sounds a little embarrassed.

Freddie kisses his cheek, right where the endearing pink of his blush shows, and John giggles.

“Alright, flower, show me your song,” Freddie says. He hopes none of his boyfriends notice how feeble his voice sounds - he really feels quite poorly, but he’d hate to hold up rehearsal any longer than he already has. After getting confirmation from Roger and Brian, John counts them in and starts the song off with a lovely little bass riff, a waterfall of twangy notes that Freddie thinks is quite clever. He’s about to say so when Roger comes in with a run down the toms that leads into a splashy finish on the crash cymbal, and Freddie can’t help when he winces and sucks in a sharp breath at the way the sound sends pain spiking through his head.

“Oh, Freddie,” John says sympathetically, immediately forgetting the song and letting his bass hang on the strap over his shoulder so his hands can go to to cradle Freddie’s face. Freddie unconsciously puts his hands over John’s, keeping them there, trying to quiet the ringing in his head that remains even after Roger has grabbed the cymbal to mute it.

“Sorry,” Freddie says pitifully, embarrassed and trying to make light of it, but his voice is so weak that his boyfriends see right through him. The headache has made his rocky stomach even worse and he draws a shaky breath, trying to steady himself.

“Jesus, Fred, I’m sorry,” Roger says, hurrying out from behind the kit to stand nervously by John’s side and look up at Freddie with an expression of guilt and worry. “I didn’t even think about - God, that was really stupid of me. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Freddie says, though he can feel the sting of tears as his head continues to pound. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have gone on such a fucking bender the night before rehearsal.”

Brian chuckles as he runs a soothing hand through Freddie’s hair. “You make it sound like none of us have ever partied all night and come in to rehearsal with a massive hangover, sweetheart.”

“But it’s such a bloody pain to deal with me,” Freddie says miserably. “I’ve kept you all waiting and now Roger can’t even play because of me.”

“I don’t mind,” Roger pipes up, his guilt still evident in his voice. “I’ll sit this one out, it’s ok.”

“Better yet,” Brian suggests, “why don’t we all have a bit of a break, and we can get some medicine into you and hopefully get you feeling better.”

Freddie looks up at Brian with eyes pooled with tears, partly from the pain in his head and party from the tenderness his boyfriends are showing him. “Are you sure?”

“Now, Freddie, love, if we can’t ask you if you’re sure, you can’t ask us,” John says, teasing and sweet. He runs his fingers over Freddie’s cheek to catch the few tears that fall.

“Oh, you poor love,” John coos. “Come on, Roggie and I will cuddle you while Brimi gets your medicine.”

Roger looks a little uncomfortable, scuffing the toe of his sparkly pink converse against the rug. “I don’t have to - I mean, you know, if you don’t - ”

“Oh, hush,” Freddie says, taking Roger’s hand and pulling him close. “You’re perfectly alright, my darling. No need to fuss. Leave that to Brian.”

Roger chuckles as he leans closer to Freddie. “Okay.”

“Come on,” John says, separating himself from the two of them to put his bass on its stand before taking their hands and leading them to the couch. Brian brings water and painkillers as they settle Freddie between them. When Freddie’s taken his medicine and finished the water, as per Brian’s instructions, Freddie lays his head on Roger’s lap. John runs a soothing hand over Freddie’s thigh and Brian sits on the floor facing the couch, gently combing his fingers through Freddie’s hair.

“Better?” Roger asks.

Freddie presses a gentle kiss to Roger’s leg. “Yes, my darling. So much better.”

forever taglist: @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl @hazah@dashlilymark@punkgeekchic @harrisunn @stephydearestxo@luckytrashgooprebel @someone-get-a-medic @chlobo6

#i hope you like it!!#i think it's pretty cute #maddie writes stuff!#poly!queen fluff #brian x john x freddie x roger #poly!queen angst #poly!queen fanfiction

21 notes · View notes

yeoldontknow · 5 years

Text

Ephemeral

Author’s Note: WELCOME BACK TO CHANVEMBER!! this fic is based on a story i wrote in a different fandom years ago and i really just wanted to rewrite it and give it to chan. i felt like i could have explained the intensity of affection better so here we are! Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Summary: At the root of your memory loss, there is only one constant thing: him. Genre: angst; romance; au Rating: PG-13 Warnings: dark themes; mention of blood and injury; heavy angst Word Count: 3,497

This is not your bed.

This is not your house.

This man, sleeping soundly, is not your lover.

But they could be. You want them to be. You want him.

You take a hard look at the curve of his ears and the arch of his lips and you try to remember yourself. Try, with every staggered and unstable inhale, to remember your name, your age, your life, but you can’t. You remember the black, you remember the void.

He’s here, so you aren’t scared. He’s here, so you must have been lucky. You must be special.

You must be important.

Behind him is a night stand. A glass half full of water, a bottle of paracetamol, a pack of condoms, some tissues, and a wedding band. A digital clock, the numbers searing 7:02AM, a red and violent display, directly into your retinas. These things belong to him, these things are a part of his whole. You want to know them and touch them, because you want them to belong to you, too. Maybe they do. But there’s a canyon of longing separating you from them, so you turn over and hope that maybe the parts of your whole will be waiting on the other side.

Half eaten biscuits, a mug, a pair of glasses and a flashdrive wait for you. Someone is living a life here. Someone, on this side of the bed, belongs to these things and has left them behind. You touch the mug and don’t feel any recognition. You touch the glasses and scowl, because your vision is fine. The world as you are coming to learn it is not blurry. A life was interrupted here and it does not feel like yours.

You turn back to the person next to you and try the same tactic, touching and touching to learn through your existence. Delicate fingers on your right hand twine through the dark thickness of his hair, and you sigh. It’s soft, it’s familiar and comforting to your fingers, but touching someone can feel like touching anyone else unless you build the chemistry behind the kinetics.

He wakes up and he smiles. He smiles and now you know you’ve finally learned to see the sun.

You want to smile back because he looks pleased, he looks happy, but you can’t because he’s the one with answers and you need him to tell you how to feel.

‘Where am I?’ you ask, because who am I is too heavy for 7:02AM.

It’s happened before. You are not you anymore. There have been infinite versions of yourself, living your life without your permission because you have come last and there will be another to come after you. You don’t belong to you anymore, your brain has betrayed you. It didn’t want to, it didn’t mean to, it just can’t hold you the way it should. Not anymore, and not ever again.

He tells you that you’re broken. He doesn’t say it that way, he uses gentle and beautiful words when he speaks of you, and to you, but that’s how you take it. Because people should always be themselves, perpetually and always, dying only once, rather than living one life as multiple strangers.

He keeps the flashdrive on your nightstand because he’s learned how to cope, he’s learned how to cope with you. He doesn’t even frown or scowl when he says it never helps you remember, only that it keeps your questions at bay until you’ve read through it all.

It’s an odd thing to realize that the sum of a person can be contained on a stick of metal. 32GB is just enough to fit you and suit you and wear you like a second skin. It’s odd, and strange, to read about yourself as though you are fiction. You might as well be, because these things didn’t happen to you. Not this version, at least.

This pain was not yours. That car was not yours. The metal of the Mini Cooper did not wrap itself around you and pull apart your skin to crawl inside your marrow. It’s not you the car kissed, not your blood that it stole, but it has made it so your brain loses itself from time to time. It’s you the car made you lose, it’s you, and every you to come after, that is forced to slowly disappear until there’s no more of you left.

Your past is made of pictures and news articles, hospital bills, and screen captures of surgery invoices signed away by unfamiliar signatures. Your past is made of fourteen scars, one metal screw in the knee, and five haircuts to cover the gash.

You touch the back of your head to feel the skin. There is no scar, no remnant of pulled staples. Your body did the healing before you could tell it how you feel.

‘Where is your ring?’ he asks, as you stare at a wedding photo of him and a woman who looks happy and healthy, and made of things that don’t have time to bleed.

‘You left it in the bathroom again, didn’t you?’

It’s not a question you’re supposed to answer. He’s talking to a ghost of you that you never got to meet or know, and maybe you should have laughed and said yes, or maybe you should have told him not to nitpick, but this isn’t your argument, anymore, so you stay quiet and try to remember when you fell in love.

‘Why did you stay with me?’

You don’t need to know if he loves you, because simply his being here is proof. Big speeches and long confessions about love and devotion seem out of place in this life, because the delivery of a hot cup of tea and a hand to your cheek say more than words ever could. You ask because, even though you’ve forgotten yourself, you remember reality. You know that love alone can’t weather a storm, that love and sex and marriage can fold under the weight of dependency, uncelebrated anniversaries, and childlike frailty.

He takes a sip of his tea, lips rendering it a work of art. ‘Because you asked me to.’

‘Is that enough?’ You sound desperate and worried, because sometimes, most of the time, it isn’t. You don’t question your actions, because even now, even without a history of pretty words, you want to ask him again to stay. You’d manage without him, you know you would, but he was the first thing you saw and something tells you he needs to be the last.

‘Of course it is,’ he says, and he’s firm and deliberate in the pronunciation of the words. ‘I stay because I love you. And believe it or not, every version of you loves me, too.’

A clear response doesn’t form on your tongue, so you take a sip of your tea, awed that this is the first thing, the first object, that feels like home. You don’t remember liking tea, you don’t remember how you take it. But he does. He knows you, all of you, every person you were or could be come.

He stays because you asked; you stay because you’ve written him into your DNA.

You are looking back at yourself in the mirror, in a bathroom whose lighting is hardly more flattering than a yellow camera flash. All this does is tell you what you are, not who you are, and it’s important you hold on to the difference.

You have thick swaths of hair, colour the ghost of something beautiful, a brilliant shade that seems to have dulled. It might have been dye jobs that killed the sheen. Or maybe you forced it into too many styles over the course of your loss and recovery the health of the follicles got redirected to a part of you that needed it more.

Your eyes are tired, so incomprehensibly tired, bags taking root above your cheeks, and your eyes are too alive for your lost mind. Time slips past you as you stare at them, wondering what and who they’ve seen, and why you can’t ask them to share the trapped information that swims in the irises.

You are fragile, you are lost, and you are small. Strength has somehow retreated inside you, rotting from within. Your fingers have fading callouses from a past life that played guitar. The nails on your fingers are bitten by a habit that hasn’t seemed to carry over. Your left forearm has a tattoo that looks like smeared paint. It’s pretty. Once upon a time, you were pretty.

Your lips have been kissed, your skin touched, your body bled, your rib cage broken, and yet you’re still whole and here and new.

It takes a lot of effort to pull yourself away from your reflection, from the anatomy of a body that needs to be remapped. You know you need a shower, so you strip off the underwear you woke up in, reminded now that you don’t know your bra size, and stand naked staring at the shower.

The knobs are a mystery. There’s four, two too many, and none of them are labeled. You wish it were simple. Hot, cold, on/off. Why the extra? Where’s the lift for the plug?

You live here, you remind yourself. You bought this house, you saw your name on the mortgage, on the computer, on the flashdrive. Someone else’s contract, but still yours.

Be an adult, you tell yourself. Where’s your sense of adventure?

You call out his name. You admit defeat.

You’ve had too much adventure for one lifetime.

The brain is a funny thing.

That’s what he likes to say.

‘The brain is a funny thing,’ he says, and he hands you a plate of pasta with meatballs. It’s been five weeks, and still you’re learning the difference between who you are by choice and who you are by genetic make up. ‘You haven’t liked Italian food for about a year. Too much cilantro, is what you said. The first you loved it.’

He’s numbered your phases, as though you are the moon, still calls you by name but was forced to find a way between the you who liked Italian and the you who liked sushi, the one who played piano and the one who played guitar. There’s been six of you in a three year time frame. You are the seventh, and he loves you, through and beyond time, as though you are the first.

You eat with him in silence because the uncertainty has started to burn at the back of your mind once again.

It didn’t take you long to realize that you love him, that you love him beyond dependency and into desperation. You know you love him. This you loves him straight into your core, but he’s had years with different people all wearing the same face and you can’t help but wonder if he’s disappointed with this new model.

And it’s only when he looks at you above the rim of a wine glass, smiling through his eyes because he lives in a state of complete adoration, that you admit this you has a penchant for jealousy and briefly you wonder if this is new. You laugh, because it’s impossible to be jealous of oneself, but a stranger had him when he was new and those experiences, the words that always belonged to you, are forced to belong to someone else.

‘It’s always new with you,’ he says, and he twists his fork into his pasta with an ease that makes you envious. ‘When I say “I love you” to you, it’s different. Always different every time, because you react differently.’

And he laughs at something you do, something that spreads itself somewhere on your face without letting you in on the secret.

‘Like just then,’ he explains. ‘When I told you that I love you, your eyes went wide like you couldn’t believe it was happening. Two months ago, I’d tell you I loved you, and your nose would flare at me because it turned you on so much. More often than not, you’d make me find the nearest room.’

At once, he’s bashful, blooming into something beautiful and you find it hard to breathe.

Images ignite in your brain, all of them intimate and gasping and aching with a yearning that makes your palms sweat, and none of them are memories. You try to remember how three words could rouse the hair on your arms, how three words could start a chain reaction in the base of your spine, but you settle on the fact that it’s not how but who.

You chose a man whose voice carries implication, who promises the world and delivers the sun, and knowing him makes it easier to understand why your past self had so little self-control.

When you look at him, you don’t see shapes. Instead you see how he splits shadows, how light can sit on his face and makes a dark corner seem bright. When you see him, you don’t see lines, because there are no lines, not anymore. Your world has been blurred too many times, and the only constant thing, the only thing clearly defined, is him.

And you can remember exactly when you started to draw him because you’ve bound yourself to the memory like fabric sewn into a quilt. You cling to the memory because it’s how you know that you’re still you and not a copy of a copy of a copy. But it makes sense that you’d want to recreate him, because you’ve had to be remade so many times at least now it almost seems fair.

You’re addicted to the curve of his spine, the length of his nose, the wideness of his eyes, and the jut of his hipbone. The line of his collarbone reminds you to breathe and the veins in his wrist have been kissed by your lips too many times to count. He tells you this is something only you have done, and where it amazes him that there are still so many ways you show your affection it only offers you a possessive sense of pride.

Making him into art lets you spread him across time, makes him last longer than biology will allow him. And maybe, you sometimes think, that’s what makes you draw him with a voracity that borders on obsession. He’s constant and unchanging and permanent, and everything you will never be wrapped in sensuous skin, and no matter how many times you draw him you can’t quite seem to capture the sameness. Every image of him, from your eyes to paper, comes out differently.

Your hand touches his shoulder the same way, but when it draws angle, it always comes out different. Not wrong, not ugly, just different. Your hand and your eyes and your heart are learning him through charcoal and ink, and everyday he comes out different but one thing remains the same.

The beauty never changes. It doesn’t matter how your hand makes him, because it always makes him beautiful.

Two months later, you ask him again if he ever played favourites. You’re in bed together, fully clothed, just touching, and you can’t help but ask because this you is many things but confidence just doesn’t come easily.

‘Why would I have a favourite? How could I have a favourite?’ He kisses your nose in the way that always makes you blush, and he giggles because he did it on purpose just to see the control he has over the flow of your blood.

‘It’s like...the same way I have a favourite piece I’ve done of you, surely you must have a favourite of me.’

He shuts his eyes and shakes his head, and you can’t help but grip his waist just a little tighter as you fall deeper in love with him.

‘It’s not the same thing. I’m not making you, you are making you. Every version, every facet of your personality, comes from here.’ He glides his hand up your back and you shiver just before he taps your temple, whispering. ‘I love what’s in here. I can’t compare you against you because it’s always just you in a different light.’

You decide there’s nothing more to be said, because you trust him and you believe him, and it’s been too long since you’ve held the taste of him on your tongue. So you kiss him the way you always do, soundly and fiercely, because you know it’s so easy to forget and any night with him could be your last.

When you pull back he looks at you in a way that is both foreign and familiar, his duality clawing at your insides just to burn you with adoration like acid.

‘You’re so much more romantic than the others,’ he says, pride itching at his voice and leaning his nose into your neck to breathe you in.

You want to be proud too, so you straighten your back and try not to whisper because it’s easy to be afraid of honesty if the weight of it tips a metaphorical scale you weren’t prepared to confront. But he looks at you like you matter, like you’re the only thing centering his universe, and it provides you more resolve than a will of iron on a battlefield.

‘This version of me woke up next to you,’ you say loudly, because soft cadences make the truth sound insincere. ‘That would make anyone romantic.’

You say it because it’s true, you say it because you need him to hear it and understand the words, and all of its subtext.

You don’t doubt that he does, because he kisses you like it’s his turn to die, and you kiss him back just as violently because losing him is the only thing that makes you remember you are human no matter how many lives make you appear immortal.

You never ask if he was in the car with you when you crashed. There’s an anguish that adorns his features when you talk about the accident that makes you almost abandon the topic of the event altogether. But you’ve been with him for five months, and you feel confident you’re not going anywhere, and the truth is that you deserve to know. You don’t want words written by someone was assigned the coverage, you need words with empathy and sentiment behind them, someone who lived through it because that’s the only way you can remember.

He recites the story like it doesn’t belong to him, the same practiced speech he’d developed from years of answering the same question from the same person, but the way his eyes seem to turn hollow reminds you that this was never just your loss, but his too.

You weren’t speeding. You weren’t drunk. He was home waiting for you, but not really waiting at all, because you shared a life together and still remained your own people. He had friends, and so did you; you came home when you pleased and it didn’t matter to him because you always came back. You never gave him a reason to worry.

He got the call at 3AM, and he was too tired to check the caller ID. He answered on auto-pilot, asking ‘where the fuck’ you were, but the voice on the other end wasn’t yours and suddenly he was too awake for only 90 minutes of sleep.

He doesn’t remember the drive to the hospital or the words the doctor used. He remembers the broken fist he’d managed when he punched the wall and the number of times he threw up in the bathroom because this was not happening.

You tell him to stop talking because he is detaching from you and falling into the memory, and you realize you are lucky. You are special. You never have to remember, and he can never forget.

This house is not yours.

This couch does not belong to you.

But they might.

You know you aren’t alone because you hear footsteps in another room. Your fists clench against the cloth and you crane your neck, trying to see the doorway to...a kitchen? Maybe.

Someone steps out with a mug of tea and places it on the table in front of you.

‘Have a nice nap?’ he asks, and there’s sunshine in his voice. He sits in the chair across from the couch and smiles.

You look down at the table. Charcoal, some paper, an unfinished figure, a mobile phone, half eaten garlic bread. A life was interrupted here. You lift your right hand and inspect your black fingertips. Your life was interrupted here.

You look back at him, heart breaking without your brain understanding why, and he maintains his bright smile.

‘Where am I?’ you ask, because you don’t want to be the one to alarm him. You think that ruining his smile could mean the end of your life, but you don’t know why.

‘It’s ok,’ he says gently. ‘Everything is going to be fine.’

He keeps smiling, and you believe him. You trust him.

Everything will be fine.

He’s here.

Everything is fine.

#chanyeol x reader #exosnet #kpopwonderlandtag #kwriterskollection #prettyboysnetwork #chanyeol fic #chanyeol scenario #chanyeol angst #chanyeol fanfiction #chanyeol au #exo scenario #exo au #exo fanfic #park chanyeol

604 notes · View notes

lumiereswig · 5 years

Note

Do you have any crossovers with/AUs inspired by "Moulin Rouge!"? I know there's a fics list page but my wifi is so stupid slow it never loads so I can never tell.

nope! srry

since u can’t load the fics page im gonna give it all to you right here boo

Lumiere discovers something new, post-curse: Matches

Plumette/Lumiere, pre-curse. Plumette growing up and Lumiere growing close. Lit By The Sun

Plumette/Lumiere, immediately after being cursed: Fire and Feathers

Lumiere meets the prince for the first time: A Showman Through and Through

Plumette/Lumiere as college kids: Modern AU that is not super great but eh i tried

plumiere in love: it’s right here for now (at least until I edit it and make it better)

here’s Scotland

“a maid that has a crush on Lumiere faking being Plumette and trying to seduce him”: hahaha this one still makes me laugh

abandoned ‘kidnapped’ fic—here

lumiere finding out plumette is pregnant: Here.

lumiere sees the baby for the first time: Here. Aww.

“a one shot in which plumette and lumiere go on a romantic tryst about the castle in the days following their wedding 💕”: poor cogsworth

Lumiere is the sexiest sandwich in the palace. Here.

Plumette gets sick, it’s really sad: Right over here, pal.

More plumiere falling in love here.

Tale as old as time, older than that guy, Beauty and Maurice.

garderenza backstory? here it is

So, like: what if Mulan showed up.

“can i please have a crack-shippy fic where everybody is in love with the wrong people.” Here.

figuring out how to be human again. here

lumiere/plumette body swap HERE.

“Movie night at the castle!” As you wish.

a bunch of other maids have a crush on lumiere and try to get his attention: a short fic about trapezes

“A group of poor motherless ducklings imprint on Plumette” QUACK QUACK.

“please expand on that night when Plumette and co. got drunk because of Chapeau’s brandy + wine idea…” I don’t know why I like writing drunk!staff so much but i DO

1991, MEET 2017!

What happened to Gaston? The only Gaston fic I’ll ever write, probably. Here.

He is nineteen. She is younger. Lumiere tells Plumette a fairytale. Lit by the Moon.

“How about a fic were the staff play light as a feather stiff as a board with Plumette as the board.“ what the fuck even is this game i am still confused but on y va, i guess

ATTRACTIVE FARMER MAN AND HIS TWO WIVES

Plumette’s last seconds before the curse takes hold. Laughing Still.

Forgotten. [Ongoing]

Plumiere in the rain. Quick mini-fic. I’ve Seen Fire and Rain

“quick question : how often does lumiere get sick?” Here.

“What if the day the curse was broken the staff go batshit crazy over being able to eat again so they eat until their stomachs hurt. Then Chip starts a food fight by throwing a bread roll at Cogsworth.” THIS HAPPENED?

“A dragon comes to try and eat Plumette” Lumiere is a fire-bender

“crack fic where they somehow discover theyre fictional” this one was so fun to write, lumiere picks up ewan’s scottish accent and hates it

“What about a really cute fic were Lumiere and Plumette fake being sick so they don’t have to work and get to spend the whole day together” poor cogsworth part 2

“Who gets the weird nightmares and who consoles the other at two in the morning because they’re in tears.” Me, because I just want my OTP to have nice things. Here.

”coffeeshop au but its still set in the 18th century“ BUT WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ROUSSEAU, THO??

“Can you write about Lumiere throwing Plumette a surprise birthday party for her?” hey

“Chip wants to be maître d’ someday and follows Lumière around the castle as his little protégé” he’s going to be a better one than lumiere here

“don’t think about how painful the transformation must have been for the servants" do i ever think of anything else. [the answer is no]

“*Whispers in your ear* AMNESIAC LUMIERE” FUCK. HOW’D YOU KNOW I LOVE AMNESIA FICS?? FUCK. ultimately one of my favorite fics. holy fuck

“*Whispers in your ear* AMNESIAC LUMIERE” part TWO, motherfuckers

“Maybe one during the curse where they can suddenly hear the soundtrack around them?“ poor cadenza

“What if somebody after the curse was broken just out of nowhere started playing the Aria. I NEED FEELS” have you thought about horrible things yet today

“The castle has to order in pizza” adam would like to register a complaint.

“Ewan McGregor and Lumiere switching universes" here

”A water balloon fight that gets out of hand?“ SPLASH.

Les Miserabeauty and the Beast. Here.

“Can you do where everyone is turn into a baby” ANGST

STANFOU ROMANCE

“Nutcracker AU?!” aw fuck here

“I Never Really Knew You”—Cadenza & Adam

“He Must Loathe Me”—Chapeau & Plumette

“The Sound of Her Weeping”—Garderobe & Lumiere

“Her Little Satin Slippers”—Cogsworth & Plumette

“Home”—Mrs. Potts & Plumette

“Chapeau’s Charade”—Belle & Chapeau

“Lullaby”—Garderobe & Plumette

“Cake in the Sun”—Lumiere & Stanley

“Like You Used To”—Adam & Garderobe

“Why The Beast Eats Like….That”—Chip & The Beast

“The Boy’s Hand”—Chip & Adam

“The Pink Vest”—Garderobe & Cogsworth

“Draw”—Maurice & Adam

“They’ll Never Meet Again”—Plumette & Garderobe.

“Her Beautiful Maman”—Garderobe & Plumette, in the parents AU. Also: Lumiere & Frou-Frou. Woof.

“have Belle and Adam watch batb 2017?” sure.

“I would love to see their reaction to singing in the rain! It’s my all time favorite movies!! ❤️❤️" 🌧🌧🌧🌧SAME 🌧🌧🌧🌧

“consider the coconut” MOANA CRACK.

“Plumiere goes to Paris?” Prequel fic! [oh là là]

“thy crackest crack of all - batb but adam/belle and lumiere/plumette swap places” lumiere turns into a dragon

“so. um. amnesiac adam?“ FUCK. FUCK.FUCK.

”Mary Poppins would be practically perfect in every way!” Feed the fucking birds

“I should have told you a long time ago.” Plumette wakes up, after their first night together. Fits into the “Lit by the Sun” story.

“This is why we can’t have nice things/you don’t see me”—right after the curse, Plumiere cope with their new forms. Angst?

“Prove It/You’re Drunk.” Lumiere had….a night of it. Poor Cogsworth, the Continuing Saga

“great comet” fic: the candle in the mirror

“I’ve been waiting a long time.” finally a happy!cogsworth fic. Tic toc.

“Batb and Frozen crossover pls“—it’s garbage

The whole palace body swaps. here

“What happens when Lumiere’s family wakes up and realizes they have a son at the palace?” well SHIT ! there’s a prompt

“Chapeau having to relearn and figure out how to play the violin once he’s turned into a coatrack.” Shh.

a cuisinier fic! this fandom doesn’t deserve him

“Batb and Robin Hood crossover!!!!!” fuck

“how about the castle residents plays a giant game of live clue.” Adam would like to register another complaint

Lit by the Stars. Plumette and Lumiere meet for the first time.

“belle catches a cold?” i’m allergic to fluff

“how about amnesiac belle this time?” FUCK

w o w this one’s about plumette & belle sharing plague stories

“Can you do where Lumiere and Plumette babysit Chip while Mrs. Potts is working” cute? ??

Wedding Cake: it’s huge

“lightly read fanfiction.” RIGHT?!

“You should let them watch the classic movie Beauty and the Beast” here

“ plumette x lumière modern spies AU” here.

“cogsworth angst” YOU GOT IT dude

“Hi, could you do some fluff and angst headcanons for Madame de Garderobe and Cadenza please xx” the honeymooners

“Shalalalalala my oh my, looks like the boy’s too shy, ain’t gonna kiss the girl” has lumiere ever been shy in his life ?

“Would you care to write a drabble of the castle redoing Mrs. and Mr. Potts’s wedding because Chip found his mother’s wedding dress and was bummed that he missed it?“ oh hey unrelated: i never dated a christmas ornament

“imagine plumiere first met AFTER they were turned into objects” um: FUCK YES.

“Batb characters in the titanic” too soon, people. too soon.

“Plumiere prompt: A whole new world! new fantastic point of view. No one to tell us no. Or where to go. Or say we’re only dreaming.” ok

“a touring theatre group comes to perform at the castle” this is more like a headcanon but it’s long as fuck so it ended up here

“cogsworth discovers he can fly” this is so wrong, this is so right

“Card Tricks”—Lumiere & Chip

“Coffee & Tea”—Lefou & Mrs. Potts

“Lion’s Mane”—Cuisiner & Plumette & Adam

“the characters read some of your fics and their reactions” o fuck. crack.

“Ok, but what about someone slipping Lumiere a love potion meant for Plumette??” kisses

Plumette stargazes; Lumiere dates someone else. Veronique

“ding dong we need more cogsworth- can we have something with him and mrs. potts bonding over all of their dumb kids” ding dong yes yes yes we do!

the villagers get cursed. a trash fic!!!![[[[ongoing]]]

Seating Arrangementsare! important! here.

“cogsworth sharing plumette’s first dance with her at her wedding, and…” I don’t dance.

poly garderenza/belle. i love this bullshit. i ship this

“Bonjour you wrote a fic about Luimere taking care of Plumette when she’s sick, can you write one about Plumette taking care of Lumiere? 💛💛” cough!

The First Untethered Hot Air Balloon Flight: oh, fuck.

garderenza content FEELS

“amnesiac belle?” COMPLETED, BITCHES. fucking ga w w d

“Can we have cogsworth headcanons?? Pretty please mon ami??” Dulce et decorum est.

“Eclipse”—Lumiere & Chip

what if the servants came awake again, in modern days? Here

‘do you remember when we were human?’ Plumiere shit.

A history lesson w/Cogs and Lums. Beware the dust. Album.

GARDERENZA HIGH SCHOOL AU !!!

“Woof”— Belle & Frou-Frou

“Fireworks”—Adam & Plumette

“Amnesiac Mrs. Potts?” Eh.

“a midsummer night’s dream au?” welcome to CRACK CITY [x]

“Plumette has a tragic, existential moment.” Pouf-pouf.

“a touring theatre group comes to perform at the castle. like some kind of magic, they can perform shows that don’t even exist yet” [x]

“I would love if you wrote when Plumette and Lumiere came up with Be Our Guest” BE! OUR! GUEST

“The castle adopts a pet? but not like a cat or anything, like they get a pet komodo dragon or something” welcome to the zoo

garderenza’s glory [x]

“Flicker In, Flicker Out.” The curse takes its toll.

“Who would be into divination? the Supernatural? Spooky Shit™?” HEY THERE DEMONS, IT’S YA BOI.

“If each of the servants could write a book, what would they be about?” The Villeneuve Catalog of Literature, fresh off the presses. [x]

“Cogsworth + Lumiere switch personalities?” i fuckin love a good crack prompt. showgirls!

“Socks”—Pere Robert & Mrs. Potts

adam and belle meet as tiny kids

COLLEGE FACULTY AU FIC

sad maurice fic: :)))))))))

“What do the servants do when they can’t sleep?” Shhhh.

Chip being in town when the curse strikes, here [ongoing!]

Belle gets used to the staff being, well.….human again. “New.”

“Have you ever done a role-swap where Belle was the princess and Adam was the boy from the village?“ CHIP. DON’T FUCK WITH THE TIME TRAVEL. Here.

The useless energy of haunted things. “Freaks of Furniture.” Thanks, JSTOR.

@batbobsession collab w/me called “One Moment”—their part is here, my part is there. The servants and the staff take a minute, right before the battle, to face what they’ve become.

“spooky prompt: What If the castle was haunted the year after belle breaks the spell…sadder prompt: What If the ghost was Adams mom…Worse prompt: or his father” THIS IS NOT THE FUN GHOST-HUNTING I ASKED FOR.

“Everyone says that Adam was under the spell ages, so what if the spell went on for 300+ years or whatever, and a woman hiking through the woods kind of went through what Maurice did with the tree being knocked over…” Fucking!!!! Granola bars!!!!!!!!!!!![x] [Ongoing.]

How desperate I became. To erase. To unmake my mouth, my pulse. / To unlive. “The Writing-Desk.”

“So Very Different”—Cuisinier & Garderobe

“how would the staff and Belle and Adam react to some little kids from the village showing up trick-or-treating?“ Something like this, I imagine.

“Amnesiac Cadenza?” i do fucking love an amnesia ask

“During the curse, Adam begins to see ghostly apparitions of the servants’ human forms.” Dead men walking.

“Spooky prompt: A haunted house in Villeneuve.” i just want to talk to the demons!

“These Two Need More Love”—Chapeau & Cuisinier

“A piece inspired by the song, “A Shoulder to Cry On,” aka, ‘80S MUSIC FICS

“Adam, Belle + staff go to pick out/chop down their own Christmas tree……” Yule fic by me + other people! ho ho ho.

way down in hadestown

The fandom-spanning fic, involving Star Wars, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Doctor Who, and Tulio and Miguel.

“Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said.” Evermore. Thanks Ray Bradbury.

“idk how she got there but Garderobe rules the world.” ❤️

“Oh! How about a story or headcannons of Shane and Ryan doing a Buzzfeed Unsolved Video at the enchanted castle in BatB?” [wheeze] (a FAVE)

“Words”—Garderobe & LeFou.

“what if someone confused the servants with the royals, cuz they dress better than adam and belle?” This happens regularly.

“Pere Robert somehow comes across a Time Turner” ⏳tick-tock⌛️

“Crackfic prompt: Belle is messing around with magic books (AGAIN) and somehow summons dinosaurs.” that’s , uh, that’s chaos theory

plumiere SNUGGLING FOR WARMTH TROPE????

“The BATB characters stumble into The Great Comet” EVERYBODY RAISE A GLASS

“So I’m reading the Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater…..” Here.

“Please give me more singing hair brush!” the fucking hairbrush. Here.

“Please can I have a bunch of adorable hcs where Garderenza are prepping Bassette for their first concert with her singing in it too” that is a hairbrush

arrrrGGHHHH, mateys, that thar be a magical pirates fic, shiver me timbers

“lumiere gets a sunburn” ouCh

“for adelle: maybe the Official Proposal?” Here.

“ what if. an amnesia fic. where they. ALL. Got. A m n e s I a“ —MY BRAND~

“Headcanons for Belle and Adam being the world’s greatest grandparents?” also known as “be a bear, grandpa!”

“Garderenza prompt: ‘You saved my life!’” oh how divine

belle keeps playing with magic and getting everybody fucked

this collab fic with @theteaisaddictive is done! “agathe gets amnesia”

“Whisky and Red Wine”—Lumiere and Belle have a night in.

“AU idea: As belle is leaving the second time, something stops her and she turns and whispers ‘I love you’ before running off.” Can you say “two idiots”?

“ have you ever done any asks about what you think maurice/belle’s mum’s life was like before they had belle???” I AM ALWAYS HERE FOR THE MAURICE SAD!FICS [x]

“something sweet with adam and the plumiere child.” sweet as stolen breakfasts.

“Belle messing with magic again finds one that puts the universe into reverse” this one is straight crack i hope you like it

chip is the middle man for some major lumiworth action

“A traveller stops by for directions […] by coincidence, he’s one of Belle’s *very favorite* authors.” Wow I wonder if the world’s biggest book nerd is going to handle this in a responsible manner [x]

“a man attending a ball at the palace spots plumette, and falls in love with her beauty. she receives an anonymous present of heart-shaped chocolates on her bedside the next day, and assuming they are a present from her dear lover, eats them without a thought. moments later…..” Not exactly this trope but uhhhh it’s a love potion fic babyyyyyyy

#PLEASE REBLOG THIS POST #beauty and the beast #batb #batb 2017 #it's shorter than the other rlly long one #but also uhhhhh h u h looks like i wrote 2 many fics #ooOOps #fire hands candle hands trashdelabra stans #its lumiereswig b i t c h

52 notes · View notes