#i always get very confused when people just rag on the show for no reason other than ''oh well this guy's voice was annoying“

[mychlapci]

you should be more mean about hazbin hotel. and i say this as someone who was really into it when the pilot first came out. and then after i watched the show i slowly realised how terrible it was.

3/10 show and literally the only reason it gets points is bc some of the songs were decent. everything else though.... well i shan't say

i don't like to be too mean about it, i know some people that follow me like it and i know how painful it is to be obsessed with a really shitty piece of media. i was a hetalia girlie for years. my house is made of glass.

but! fun fact. honestly one of the reasons i enjoyed it enough to give it a 3/10 is because i frankly did not register any jokes. i registered one, and the rest of the show i thought everyone on here was crazy because there was none of that classic-youtube, crass humour everyone accused vivziepop of? but. apparently there was.

i feel like its biggest issue truly is that it looks and is written deeply amateurish. it literally feels like a "tumblr show", as if it was built entirely off of incorrect quotes. it simply looks and acts like a tumblr comic that got some notes but ultimately went nowhere and gets reblogged ten years later as a funny heritage post dealing psychic damage. but it's a real show we have in this day and age. i feel like like it might just have been made too late. which is arguably a good thing. lot of the critique of the designs also falls in here, such as the colours, which i personally didn't have a problem with, but i can see where they're going with it, and the character design, all of which are also very clearly amateurish. i'm not an artist or an animator but i feel like hazbin hotel lacks in quality. even rick and morty had a quality to it that made it clear that this was a Show made for TV. hazbin hotel just seems like a tumblr comic come to life. from start to finish, which is not a quality i want actual greenlit shows to have.

i honestly don't know much about the people making it but i've never seen any proof of anything truly vile and terrible. i do think they've made a lot of decisions in poor taste that i've seen brought up before.

but otherwise i don't get too deep into it. i dont intend to watch the show again, engage with the fandom or watch a second season, so none of this matters to me.

[pan-fried-autism]

Lovesick

Characters: Swap!Grem, Swap!Nikolai (@bowlerhatwearer), brief appearance of Swap!M0u5e

Summary: No longer undead, Nikolai has been mostly confined to Grems bed, due to the condition his body had been left in. The time spent in Grems house has made him realize something, something he needs to do... but hardly anything ever goes to plan.

Nikolai L. Akdow had a problem.

Or at least a problem he was no longer in denial about.

After an adventure resulting in him no longer being undead, simply alive, his body was in a... less than favorable state. Thought no longer rotting and generally corpselike, he found himself to be quite physically weakened and tired, and quite susceptible He even found he couldnt eat most foods. As a result, he spent most of his days in bed.

Not his own, however. His friend Grementine Mewton's bed.

He had offered to take her couch, but she refused to let him stay there, saying to him, "My guy, with the condition you're in, it's for the best that you're as comfortable as possible! I'LL take the couch."

But that's not the point. Or at least, a bit related to the point.

You see, the problem involved Grementine.

Grem herself was not the problem, though-- if anything, she was the opposite of one. She, along with her assistant M0u5e and friend Mothgo (if she was over), took very good care of him. She always made sure to keep a good supply of rusk, vitamin water, and tea (as they were some of the only things he could stomach right now), and had taken the liberty of buying actual vitamins, too. She had a fan placed on one of the bedside tables in case he got overheated, and had a cold wet rag for him as well. Sometimes, she'd come in with books, or maybe her portable DVD player, and she'd watch a movie or show with him. Sometimes she would just come in to talk.

It was... it was nice. He was slowly getting better.

But that wasn't the point. He still had a problem.

It was a problem he had since he was still a lich, and started to have a while after he met Grem. Something he couldn't ignore for very long...

Feelings.

He noticed them a little bit after they sprouted up-- he felt different about Grem than he did about other people. He oft wished to spend more time with her, to be close to her, hug her more, talk endlessly with her about ideas, stare into her beautiful eyes as he did it....

A crush of some kind had developed. And it frightened him.

This was the first time he ever felt this was about anybody. It was... it was confusing. Something he didn't know how to handle.

So he kept his feelings hidden away the best he could.

I don't think it would work out between us, anyway, he reasoned with himself. I probably would not be a good partner to her-- the past is a fickle obstacle, I've found.

If things had stayed the same, he could have dealt with them, he thought. They'd continue to be good friends and maybe nothing more. However, staying with Grem while she helped him in his weakened state hadn't exactly done any wonders for the crush...

Without the factors of an ice cave and a cold environment (relatively speaking-- Grem kept the bedroom air conditioned for him), along with the fact he was currently living with her, Grem was able to see him MUCH more often and for longer periods of time. In that time, he got to see a lot of Grem's personality in action-- how she talked about her ideas and experiments, how she hyped up the movies and shows she chose for them to watch (especially if she thought he would love it), how she almost always came back from the supermarket with a new flavour of vitamin water for him to try, how she laughed at certain jokes, the way he swore her eyes sparkled while he talked about ideas and experiences he's had, how she talked about her coworkers and friends, how sometimes she would purr a little when she hugged him...

All this had done was strengthen his feelings-- in other words, worsen the problem in a way.

As time went on, this weighed heavier and heavier on his mind. The feelings were still strange and nebulous to him... why? he would wonder. Why were these feelings he's had for so long still so indecipherable to him?

Not only that, it... didn't feel right. To keep it all to himself, of course. He found himself wanting more and more to at least tell Grem how he felt about her. Even if she didn't share the feelings (a likely event, to him), they wouldn't weigh so much on him anymore.

But... maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she DID share them. Nikolai had recently found himself wishing that she would stay and talk with him for a little longer. For her hugs to last longer. To be able to perhaps... make a nice dinner for the two of them.

If only...

Nik was so enraptured in his own thoughts, he had completely zoned out during the last five minutes of the movie he and Grem were watching.

Until Grem spoke.

"MAN... that was a great movie, huh, Nik?"

That jolted NIkolai out of his thoughts.

He looked over at the screen of the DVD Player-- the credits were rolling, and a pop song he'd never heard before was playing. The song spoke of getting older but never wiser, and one's depression working the graveyard shift.

Ignoring it, he simply smiled at Grem and pulled together what he remembered of the film before he zoned to form a response.

"Yes, it was very nice."

"What was your favourite part?" she replied, tail swishing around lightly. "My favourite was the twist. Like, Janelle's mother is the SECRET BIG BOSS at her company? It's so stupid, but it works."

"I think my favourite would have to be the factory scene."

Grem made a little 'feh' noise. "Of course it was. Ya LOVE that stuff."

"What can I say?" he said with a smirk. "I've always loved inventing."

"I know. Ya talk a lot about your ideas. They're all really cool."

Nikolai couldn't help but turn his head a little aways. Grem couldn't see the light blush on his cheeks that way.

"Thank you, Grementine."

Grem smiled, before yawning, raising her arms and stretching as she did so.

"What... what time is it, Nik?"

Before he could respond, Grem turned to look at the electrical clock/alarm on the bed side table to her left.

10:25 pm.

"Oh boy." she blurted out. "Ya know, I think I might just go to bed. I have work tomorrow anyway."

"That's understandable." he replied. "It was nice watching a movie with you, Grem!"

Grem grinned and gave me a hug.

Nikolai froze for a second, before gently wrapping his arms around her. He was very glad Grem couldn't see his face-- he imagined he looked like a tomato at that moment.

Sadly, Grem pulled away and leaped off the bed, going to the door before turning around and saying "Goodnight, Nikolai!"

The moment Grem closes the door, Nikolai lets out a small sigh.

He wanted to tell her so badly.

Why shouldn't he?

The sudden thought made him sit up.

.... really, though. Why shouldn't he? Why should he have to keep these feelings to himself? They weigh so heavily on him they hurt, anyway. All he had to lose was a metaphorical weight on his shoulders!

Or maybe a friendship, depending on how she reacted.

But no matter. Nikolai had a confident look on his face as he lay back down. He would throw caution to the wind, look Grem in her lovely eyes, and tell her how he felt about her!

He knew he could do it. The small, scary doubts he felt couldn't stop him this time.

........................

The next morning, Nikolai awoke with a cold.

His nose was stuffed and runny, his throat felt sore, his head was pounding slightly with pain, and he felt like he was being weighed down with bricks.

His first thought that morning was 'oh, confounded.'

Of course, the MOMENT he felt ready to tell Grem that he might love her, his own immune system just haaaaaad to ruin it for him! He felt awful enough lying around too weak to go outside or eat certain foods, WHY of ALL TIMES did he have to get sick now?

He stopped yelling in his mind for a bit. It just made his head hurt more.

When Grem came into the bedroom and noticed his sickly state, she immediately started fretting over him. She got him a cup of tea, some Advil, some crackers, she even worried that she gave it to him somehow.

"Ne-never mind that, Grem." he had reassured her, before sneezing loudly. "Uhff, I'm sure that you... that you didn't."

Grem had her robotic assistant M0u5e care for him while she was at work. The little robot was a good caretaker, he had to admit... but he found himself longing for the cat regardless.

He felt bad about it. Was he really so focused on one person that he couldn't focus on the actions of others? He really needed to tell Grem how he felt, if that was the case.

Around 4 PM, as Nikolai lay coughing a bit in bed, he happened to hear the bedroom door open.

It was Grem. And she had a bowl of soup.

Nikolai, sick as he was, sat up slowly and cracked a smile as she approached him happily.

"He- (COUGH) Hello, Grementine!" He greeted her.

Grem set the soup down on the nightstand closest to Nikolai as she sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

"Hey, Nik!" she chirped. "How's the bug been treating ya?"

"You mean the cold?"

"Yup."

"It could.. (ACHOO)... it could definitely be MUCH better, seeing as my throat feels like somebody tried to sand it down. But M0u5e has taken good care of me while you were gone."

"That's great to hear."

Grem looked off to the side.

"I missed ya while I was at work. I was sad thinking about how sick ya were." she confessed.

The sickly man swore his heart skipped a beat.

'You-- You were?"

"Yeah. I want ya to be healthy, Nik-- you were already have a pretty bad time anyway. I was... worried about how much this would be affecting ya."

"Oh, Grem..." he reached out and gently put his hand on her shoulder. "I think I'll live, my friend."

Grem softly smiled at him. "I know ya will. I just worry."

Neither said anything for a second.

Grem then got up, saying, "Well, I'll be on my way now. Enjoy your dinner, Nik!"

Nikolai quietly watched as his friend walked away.

His amazing, intelligent, caring, humorous, cute friend...

God, he couldn't stand it anymore. He had to get out it before the illness worsened.

Before he knew it, he was calling out "Grementine, wait!"

The cat stopped just at the door, and turned to him.

"What?"

Nikolai said nothing, then coughed a little. Then he looked down, trying not to make eye contact.

"... Can you- can you stay? I want- (cough) I want to talk to you about something." he asked, quiet and sheepish.

Grem stared... then gave a sympathetic smile, walking over and hopping up onto the bed to sit next to him. She said, "Yeah, what's up?"

Nikolai went to speak... but stopped.

He couldn't help but look at her-- her matte gray eyes, her little heart shaped nose, the way her right ear twitched lightly as she waited for him to start talking, a canine sticking out slightly from her mouth, the way her tail curled up, the way the fur on the sides of her face stood up, her little whiskers...

He couldn't help but look at her for so long, he only snapped out of it when someone said his name.

Now, he was made painfully aware of the quizzical look Grem was giving him, and the way his mouth was slightly agape. Nikolai buried his face in his hands, blushing shamefully.

"Sorry, sorry..." Nik muttered.

"No, I get you're nervous." she spoke softly. "Go on."

The human folded his hands in front of him, took a deep breath... and began.

"We've (sniff)... we've known each other for a while now, Grementine, and you've taken care of me. You've... made me happy to call you a friend, Grem. You're a wonderful person, through and through... you saw how I was, how I was merely but a lich... and yet you believed in me. You believed I could be... you believed I AM a good person. And for that, I will always be thankful."

He gave the cat a soft smile, before going quiet.

No going back now, he reminded himself, picking up again.

"... Grementine Mewton, you are the most wonderful person I knoww, and I... I love you through and through... with all my heart. My heart which beats thanks to you."

The cat in front of him looked... surprised to say the least, especially with the touch of blush on her face. She gently placed her hand over her heart.

"You... you mean it?"

He nodded and replied. "Yes, Grementine, I mean it. I really, really do. You are wonderful (cough)... you are perfect... you are you, my dear."

Grems face turned a deep shade of pink, blending into the light pink fur blotches on her head.

"I... WOW! I-- uh-- I didn't-- didn't expect this, hahahah..." she managed to stutter out.

Nikolai swore he saw a couple tears appear in the corners of her eyes.

He assumed they matched with the ones forming in his own.

"You really are, Grementine." he beamed, smiling. "You are wonderful in your own Grem way... and I am glad and happy that we know each other."

Grem started quivering after that.

For a split second, Nikolai was struck with a small bolt of fear. Had he... had he messed up?

... and then Grem leapt into his arms and gave him a giant hug.

Nikolai was briefly caught by surprise before he returned it. He held her close, trying not to cough as he took in just how real it was. How this was... actually happening.

Grem pulled away, still holding him, and Nikolai could see small tear trails going down her cheeks.

"S-sorry," she blathered to him, "I just-- I didn't expect that. Didn't expect how-- how nice it was."

He offered a kind smile as he spoke again.

"Grementine, may I (sniffle)... gently touch you on your cheek? I would like to tell you a bit more, if that's alright with you."

The cat perked up at that. "Oh--Oh yes, of course."

Niks hand went up, and was gently placed against her left cheek, illiciting a small purr. He continued with his confession.

"You have gone through so so much, your whole life you never had a break. Let me tell you-- (ACHOO)-- let me tell you as someone who has messed up a lot... You are great, Grementine. You are wonderful, and smart, and you deserve to be happy."

Grem closed her eyes, before lifting one of her own hands and placing it atop the hand against her face, sending little sparks of joy into Nikolai's heart.

"Ya know something, Nikolai?" she began to admit. "I've grown to... like ya like that, as well."

Nikolai felt the blushing on his face deepen. She did? That was nice to hear.

The kitty continued. "I woulda confessed sooner, but... y'know, you're kinda sick at the moment, so I didn't think it would be a good time."

"I wanted to (sniffle)(cough)-- sorry, I wanted to confess to you sooner as well, but then my cold flared up. However, I wanted to tell you, just in case my cold gets even worse, my dear." he replied, smiling again.

"Hehe, yeah. Heck, even when ya WEREN'T down with the cold, and ya just needed bedrest really. I thought it would be best to do when you were feeling well."

"It's alright, my dear. I do hope it was alright for me to confess my feelings to you like this. It... it is not really romantic."

Grem gently patted his shoulder. "No, it's completely fine! It came from you, after all."

Nikolai slipped his arm back around her and pulled her a bit closer, making her giggle.

"I love you, Grem, I really do. I want to spend my life with you, together as your partner... if that's alright with you."

Grem smiled at him... though the smile faltered, and pulled away just a little as she asked, "... What kind of partner?"

Worry began to seep into Nikolai's mind. Had he... had he said something wrong?

"Well... just the way you are." he tried to reassure her. "I like you for who you are, Grem, and I would like to live with you, if that's alright. I really enjoy your company Grem, and I... I love you."

Grem put up her hands, shaking them a little. "I mean, of course you can live with me! There's nothing wrong with that! I just... what kind of relationship would we have?"

Nikolai looked off to the side, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, I... (ACHOO)... I honestly want to have the kind of relationship... that you want to have, Grem. I want you to be comfortable and happy."

The cat looked down and hugged herself. Nikolai internally prepared for the worst.

Finally, Grem took a deep breath before speaking.

"Uh.. I'm... some form of aromantic, Nikolai. I don't know how to describe it too well. I guess I'd say that... well, I'm not completely aromantic, I don't mind a bit of romance... but I don't think I'd be comfortable with a romantic relationship."

The human was quiet for a moment. Truthfully, he didn't mind that at all. But what kind of relationship should they have?

He started talking again. "I understand that. So, would being in a non-romantic... a platonic relationship make you happy?"

Grem looked back up at him, and a wave of relief came over him as she gave him a big smile and said one word.

"Definitely."

Nikolai sighed in relief and lay back down in bed, a good bit of energy taken from the whole ordeal. He coughed a little before he responded to her.

"And that is completely alright with me, Grem."

Grem crawled over next to him and sat down, before taking one of his hands and… holding it.

Nikolais face felt warm. It could have been from blushing or from being sick. He didn’t care, as he grinned at Grem and gently squeezed the hand interlocked with his own.

He wasn’t sure if it was real or not… but he was feeling a lot better now.

…………

The next afternoon, Nikolai and Grem lay in bed together as the latter cough loudly and sniffled.

“I want to take… eat an entire bottle of Tylenols Cold and Flu.” Grem mumbled.

Nikolai had given Grem a cold.

He (who was still sick— thank his immune system) offered the cat a tissue from the tissue box she had brought in when she stumbled into the bedroom that morning, and gave her a sad look.

“I’m so sorry, Grementine my dear.” he whispered to her.

The cat waved her hand a bit at him as she blew her nose into the tissue.

“No, no, it’s fine… (sniffle) We’re gonna be fine, sweetie.”

Sweetie… he blushed at the pet name. He felt a little less bad now.

The door opened, and M0u5e came in with two steaming mugs of chicken noodle soup.

“I’ve brought lunch.” It announced as it handed the mugs to the two sickly new lovers. “How are you both holding up?”

All Grem could say was “I just hope I don’t have to take cough syrup.”

Nikolai chuckled at her response— she told him the same thing earlier.

“I’m holding up decently,” he responded to M0u5e. “I think I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

The robot clapped her hands together. “Good to hear. Do either of you require anything else?”

“Could ya perhaps bring in my DVD player and my copy of Legally Blonde?” The kitty asked.

M0u5e simply nodded and left the room.

The moment the door closed, Grems hand dove towards one of Nikolais and held it gently. She smiled up at him as she traced circles on the back of his hand.

Nikolai sighed happily as he stared into her eyes.

They’d get through this cold… together.

[rwby-redux]

I wanted to make this a reply, but it was to long so I am asking instead. Basically I wanted to say Thanks. About Jaune, you are asking the kinds of questions I asked when I did specultions about him.

It always felt to me like his parents were doing that whole “shelter with ignorance” trope thing and ended up breaking his self-esteem in his process. But if that’s the case it begs the question of “what are they sheltering him from?”

And you can tell I probably but WAY more thought into this then I needed to. (But you seem to be the type who like me likes to overthink things) But he and Weiss have always been my two favorite characters

On a different note, and something I think you will probably get new use out of what about in world curses? Often there’s a link between what is sacred in a world, and what kind of curses they use. For example in The Stormlight Archive people often curse by the Stornfather as he is associated with divinity. This lends itself to a hilarious moment in the the third book when one of the main characters, Dalinar, who has by then bonded (it’s a sort of magical partnership thingy) said Stormfather via the series magic system ends up cursing, and confusing his bond partner who thinks he was calling his name.

Dalinar: Stormfather!

Stormfather: Yes?

Dalinar: Sorry, that was a curse.

So besides cursing by the two brothers what else do you think people would curse by in Remnant?

You’re welcome! Real quick, just as a side note—much as I rag on Jaune, I actually do like him. Despite the fact I frequently use him as a verbal punching bag, he’s not a bad character. He’s just a character that the writers don’t seem to know what to do with. It’s hard to make a good case for Jaune whenever the writers fail to make him interesting or relevant to the plot. More’s the pity, because the potential’s there. Someone like Jaune could have been used to explore the POV of a non-combatant in this setting (something which the show sorely lacks, since it exclusively follows the perspective of trained warriors who can navigate a monster-filled world with relative ease).

“What are they sheltering him from?” would have been such a neat question to explore, had the show bothered to flesh out Jaune’s motives with respect to his lack of fighting skills.

And yeah, you’re not wrong. This blog’s existence is basically a thought exercise that got out of hand.

Or, to quote Anne Jamison:

“Irritated fans produce fanfic like irritated oysters produce pearls.”

I actually know that scene from The Stormlight Archive (despite never having read the books). It’s one of my favorite tropes, and I wish more people used it because it’s seriously funny.

Come to think of it, it’s a bit strange that series like The Elder Scrolls don’t make use of it more often, since the Daedric Princes are very much real, tangible entities. Sheogorath in particular feels like someone who would gleefully make those sorts of jokes, given his partiality to breaking the fourth wall.

But back to RWBY.

I can’t image that modern humanity would swear by the Brother Gods, since knowledge of their existence (or at the least, worship of them) seems to be something exclusive to the first iteration of humans. I mean, the only two people alive who actually know about them are Salem and Ozma. Unless Salem and Ozma actively went out of their way to reseed those ideas among the general populace, it seems unlikely that belief in the brothers would have endured into the present day.

Qrow also mentioned that religion’s been on the decline in recent years (V4.E8), so there probably wouldn’t be many religious sources to swear by. Mind you, I think that’s a load of nonsense, since the show never provides us with in-world reasons for why religiosity has trended down. I’d be willing to bet money that the writers only came up with that answer because they didn’t want to say that religions exist, and then have to put in the work to make them.

The only real evidence we have of religions in Remnant is throw-away details. In the V4 Character Short, when Ruby passes through a recently-destroyed village, we see a church-like building with a statue of a woman outside of it. Ruby and Yang have both used god figuratively (V1.E3), and there have been at least two instances where a character said by the gods (V4.E3 and V5.E2).

And then, of course, there’s Tyrian, whose religious fanaticism seems to be the exception rather than the rule.

That doesn’t really leave us with a lot of room for interpretation. But we’re not entirely out of options.

One idea which I’m partial to is swearing by the Maidens. Even though knowledge of their existence has faded with time, myths about them still exist in the form of folk stories and fairy tales. It wouldn’t be a stretch if people swore on them out of habit or tradition, regardless of whether or not they actually believed in them.

One such swear in the Redux is Maiden’s tits. It’s basically the equivalent of Merlin’s beard.

(One time, Qrow accidentally let that slip in front of Fria. Fria has never let him live it down.)

[phoenixyfriend]

In Which Anakin's Soulmate is a Lot Like Him, But More, and Worse

(Read on AO3)

My first entry for Anakin Rarepair Week 2022!

------

Anakin has a soulmark. Not everyone does, but enough do that it’s a known thing. A little over half of people have one.

His mom doesn’t have a soulmark, and that’s normal, too.

It manifests when he’s five, which is a good thing. Gardulla always burned the soulmarks off her slaves, but Watto doesn’t care enough to bother. It is on the inside of Anakin’s forearm, and he always wraps it in cloth to hide it from everyone except Mom. Soulmarks are complicated, but they aren’t impossible to replicate, and they’re important.

Anakin likes his soulmark. He likes what he imagines it could mean, whenever he thinks about it for a bit.

There is a sword, with a blue-edged, white blade. There is a stylized helmet, with eye holes that come down into an aurebesh Vev, and a paint pattern he can’t even start to try to understand. There’s more to the shape, but Anakin can’t understand the rest. The images are completely unfamiliar to him, some kind of flower on top of some ragged tear, three long up and three short down. The entire thing is in a red and yellow circle, which is simpler, but just as confusing.

Still. He’s pretty sure the sword is a lightsaber, and the helmet is Mandalorian, and if one of them is for him and the other is for his soulmate, then it means something good.

It means he’s getting off Tatooine.

--

When he’s nine, Anakin shows his soulmark to Master Qui-Gon Jinn, who gets a very funny look on his face and makes a call a little later. Mom says she’ll talk to him about it, because it might be grown-up stuff like politics, the kind that Anakin doesn’t really understand unless Mom is the one explaining it. Anakin goes to hang out with Padmé instead.

She’s got a soulmark, too. It’s very different from Anakin’s. There are two sabers on hers, one red with a curved hilt, and one yellow with a straight hilt, and the entire set of symbols is overlaid by a set of purple markings that Padmé says she thinks might be tattoos. The rest of the symbols are of Nabooan, or pertaining to Padmé herself.

She’s been told to never show her soulmark, either. Red sabers are symbols of darksiders, and the one time her family had asked a Jedi about it, right after it had formed, they’d been told to stay wary.

The second saber is a sign of hope, but the first is a danger. Padmé’s always trained her ability to keep her mind safe for that reason, even though there is not a drop of the Force in her.

“Then why tell me?” Anakin asks.

“Well, I’m supposed to be able to trust Jedi, and you’re going to be one,” Padmé tells him. She sounds very matter-of-fact about it, like she really, truly believes he can do this. He giggles. She grins, and continues. “And I think that, if I ask you to never, ever tell anyone, you’ll keep your promise.”

“I promise,” Anakin says.

(He keeps that promise for ten years. Then he meets Padmé’s soulmate, sees the red saber and tattoos, promptly freaks out, and yells out that he knows the soulmate of the person trying quite desperately to murder him.)

(This is not at all helpful, to anyone, for years.)

(It works out in the end, though not before Padmé has been kidnapped thirty-two times by a Sith apprentice trying to figure out if she’s meant to care in the first place.)

Read on AO3

[tricksters-captain]

Helmut Zemo (TFATWS) imagines - Craving

AN: Okay I’ve given in and become a Zemo simp but Bucky is still my number one don't worry.

Summary: After playing the part as Zemo's arm candy in Madripoor, Zemo tries to confront you on your unspoken connection, only to be rudely interrupted...

Pairing(s): Zemo x Fem!Reader, very slight Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,326

Warnings: Some small spoilers for Ep3, lots of sexual tension 

“I still can’t believe I agreed to do this.” You grumbled as you climbed the stairs, falling behind at the fear the men could see straight up the skirt of the dress Zemo had chosen for you. 

“I, for one, think you have the easiest job of us all. James must be someone he detests, Sam must be a notorious criminal he doesn’t know and you must sit and look pretty.” Zemo spoke under his breath as you came to the entrance of Selby’s HQ. 

You glared at the man but he didn’t care. He was too busy worrying about Selby. 

The door was opened for you by one of Selby’s men. Zemo nodded curtly at the guard before entering. 

You went ahead of Bucky and Sam to stay close to Zemo, following your role as his current inamorata. 

It was a short walk into Selby’s office but with every step you could feel the fear rising in your chest. You weren’t convinced that you’d get away with this; Sam wasn't exactly the most kosher criminal and Zemo’s story didn’t quite add up on just how he managed to have the Winter Soldier in his mitts again. 

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Selby spoke as she came into view. She was an expensively dressed woman with a short white pixie cut. 

Zemo sat down opposite her but you remained next to Sam. 

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo waved his finger as he spoke. It was a small yet dominant motion directed towards you. You tried not to clench your jaw as you walked towards him. 

“A lot has changed since you were here last.” Selby’s eyes followed your every move as you made your way over to Zemo. “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo held out his hand to you, guiding you to stand behind him.  “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.” 

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” Selby cocked her head towards Sam. 

Sam’s only response was a quick nod of his head. Selby purred at Sam, a wolfish smile on her face. 

“What’s the offer?” Selby turned back to Zemo. Her eyes flickered up to you before landing back on Zemo’s face. You weren’t stupid you knew what her gaze meant. 

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum.” Zemo pushed himself out of his chair. You watched him cross behind Bucky, placing his hands on Bucky's shoulders. “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.” 

Selby grinned widely as Zemo wobbled Bucky’s chin with his forefinger and thumb, showing just how under control the ‘Winter Soldier’ was. 

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately.” Selby seemed to be convinced. “Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right.”

Zemo returned to his seat before Selby continued. 

“The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or... condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but... things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked. 

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” Selby rose from her chair, finding a place beside Sam as she very openly let her eyes roll down your body now that you were in her full view. 

“What else do you desire?” Zemo questioned. He had clocked onto Selby’s behaviour and didn’t really need to ask to know what the answer was going to be.  

“Her.” Selby pointed you out. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek as she awaited Zemo’s response. 

“No, no, no.” Zemo tutted, holding out his hand for you to take. “This little bird only sings for me.” Zemo guided you round the side of his chair and pulled you gently onto his lap. You crossed your legs as you tried not to seem uncomfortable. The scent of the Baron’s cologne, mixed with his strong grip on your waist was making your heart race. You had never been this close to Zemo before and now you were sat on his knee with his arm around you. 

“Well, you’ll make her sing for me or you won’t be getting what you want now, Baron, will ya?” Selby wasn’t playing games. She folded her arms across her chest, cocking her eyebrows at Zemo. 

Zemo titled his head as he thought. 

You felt yourself tense up when he placed a cool leather clad hand on your thigh. His fingers started to draw circles on your skin, edging your skirt higher, drawing Selby’s eyes down to your legs. 

“She is very dear to me.” Zemo stated. He retracted his hand from your thigh to brush your hair from your shoulder, his finger traced a line from your jaw down your neck to your collarbone. Zemo, being so close, could see the goosebumps that covered your skin at his touch.  

“Unless you have something better to offer other than your two play things, Baron, I suggest you hand them over to me... unless you don’t want the whereabouts of Dr Nagel.” Selby let her smile drop. 

“I will––” Zemo was cut short by Sam’s phone going off. 

“Answer it.” Selby suddenly lost all interest in the deal and only desired to prove the authenticity of the Smiling Tiger. “On speaker.” 

That’s where things went wrong. 

For the rest of the trip in Madripoor, you didn’t get the time to confront yourself and Zemo on what happened back there. 

You were so confused to why you reacted the way you did. You had never been attracted to Zemo before but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he smelt, the way his breath tickled against your arm, the way the heat radiated out from under his thick coat. 

You knew he was thinking about it too. 

Every time you let yourself glance over at him, he was watching you and not in the same way as he usually would. You knew too well that Zemo often studied his surroundings like a hawk. He was silent and observant; he always knew where he would go next and he often watched you, Sam and Bucky as if he were calculating your next moves. 

It wasn’t until you arrived in Latvia that you were confronted by your feelings again. 

You were sat at the island in the kitchen as you ran your hands over your face and hair. You were tired. 

“You should rest.” Zemo’s voice suddenly snuck up on you. 

He had been so quiet walking into the kitchen that you hadn't even noticed he was there. 

“I should but insomnia kinda comes with the job.” You sat up, trying not to act any different from how you usually would. 

“Ah. My time in a cell has acquainted me with such the dilemma.” Zemo confessed as he moved towards the cupboards on the back wall. 

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t help but watch his hands as they reached for the coffee pot, his fingers gripping it lightly. You could still recall the feeling of the cool leather on your thigh, his touch climbing higher as he pushed your skirt up...

“Coffee?” Zemo offered, interrupting your thoughts as he raised a mug and an eyebrow at you. 

“Please.” You folded your hands together as you leant on the island. 

There was a brief comfortable silence as Zemo fixed up some coffee for you both. He could feel your eyes on him but he didn’t say anything. He just let the corner of his lips tugged into a smirk as he poured you a cup. He let the smirk drop when he turned to face you.

He slid the cup along the countertop and you thanked him quietly. He pushed a thin smile onto his face for a second before returning to his usual stoic expression. 

“There was something I wished to discuss with you actually.” Zemo announced as he picked up his own cup. 

You almost choked on your drink at the words but you hid behind your mug, hoping he didn’t notice. He did.

“About what?” You asked. 

“I wanted to apologise for Madripoor.” Zemo surprised you with that. 

“Apologise?” You were confused to what he was talking about. 

“I am aware that it was merely a role, that we were undercover, but I touched you without your consent. I wanted to apologise for when we were with Selby.”

You were completely shocked. You didn’t not expect this from Zemo at all. 

“It’s okay. We all have to do stuff we don't want to do on missions like these.” You tried to brush it off. After all, Bucky had to become the Winter Soldier and Sam had to drink a cobra’s heart back in Madripoor. There was definitely worse things that could’ve happened. 

“I never said I didn’t want to do it. I am simply apologising for not asking for permission first.” Zemo’s eyes were glued to your face as he sipped his coffee. He was watching for a reaction. 

You felt your mouth go dry, you tried to swallow as you began to rise from your seat. 

“Uh, t-thanks for the coffee, Zemo but...” You tried grabbing your mug but you only knocked it to the floor by accident. 

“Shit!” You hissed as you bent down, picking up the broken bits. You felt your heart racing from the look Zemo had just given you.

Zemo rushed around the island with a rag, he placed it over the split coffee before taking hold of your wrist to stop you from picking up the pieces. 

Electricity shot up your arm and your head snapped up to meet his eyes. 

“No use crying over spilt coffee.” Zemo muttered, a smile tugging on one corner of his mouth. 

“I-I wasn’t––”

“––Is there a particular reason you are so jumpy tonight?” Zemo inquired. 

You rose back to standing; Zemo let your wrist go as you did but followed your action. 

The air was thick between you as you withheld your answer. 

There was no way you could admit you were worried of being close to him because of the undeniable pull he had on you since that night. 

“I think...” Zemo stepped over the soaked rag which only made you take a step back. “...You enjoyed being touched and now you are confused to why.”

Your chest began to rise and fall heavily as Zemo continued to walk towards you until your back hit the wall behind you. 

“But forgive me if I am wrong.” Zemo held his hands up with a smile, taking his final few steps until he was close enough for his cologne to engulf the air around you.

“You are.” You whispered but your voice had failed you in sounding convincing. 

“Is that right, little bird?” Zemo used the pet name he had given you in Selby's office. He lifted his hand to brush your hair from your cheek behind your ear. “Because I believe you haven’t stop thinking about it. Just as I haven't.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You only just breathed out your words. If Zemo hadn’t been so close, he wouldn’t have heard them. 

“Don’t you?” Zemo titled his head at you. “Because I am at liberty to remind you that I once worked for Sokivian intelligence. It was my job for a long time to study people, learn them, read them.” Zemo let his eyes drop down to your body before coming back to meet your eyes. “I can tell how a person is feeling just from observing their body. The way they move. The way they are breathing.” Zemo placed his hand in the centre of your chest where your silver necklace sat. The metal burned against your skin underneath Zemo’s warm flesh. 

Your slow deep breaths lifted Zemo’s hand up and down as you stared back at him. 

“I can feel your heart racing.” Zemo uttered. “Are you afraid?”

“No.” You shook your head as your eyes flickered to the man’s lip for just a second. 

“Good.” Zemo smirked. 

Suddenly Zemo was ripped away from you. 

Bucky had teared Zemo back and pushed him across the room. Zemo staggered backwards before standing and adjusting his sweater from how Bucky had grabbed him. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bucky growled at Zemo with a look in his eye that could kill. 

“I was merely having a conversation with (Y/n).” Zemo shrugged, acting as if everything was perfectly innocent. 

“Oh yeah it looked like a real polite conversation with (Y/n) backed up in a corner and your hands on her!” Sam was stood behind Bucky. The both of them were squaring up in front of Zemo to protect you. 

“I didn’t need your help.” You stepped forward, trying to intervene. 

“You put your hands on her again; I won’t stop myself next time. I’ll turn you into a new coat.” Bucky warned Zemo as he ignored you. 

“I apologise.” Zemo lifted his hands up in defence. 

“No.” Sam pointed back to you. “Apologise to her.” 

Zemo turned his head to you. When your eyes met, he smirked just ever so slightly, you knew the boys didn’t notice at least. 

“I apologise, (Y/n).” The way your name sounded in Zemo’s mouth made your stomach flip. 

“It’s fine.” You said before pushing past Bucky and Sam. You hated it when they played protective big brothers and you didn’t even need saving... You think...

(PART 2)

[chaos-has-theories]

Part 1: The Eye of John

You’ve heard of „Alecto is a Resurrection Beast“, „Alecto is Gaia“ and „Alecto is a seamonster“, you’ve heard of John’s sun symbolism, now get ready for:

John is Ra and Alecto is Mehet-Weret

or less specifically Hathor, or The Eye of Ra

[Image description: A picture in the Ancient Egyptian style. It shows a large blue cow with stars along its belly. There are nine people under it, keeping it steady. An empty boat floats by its back legs, and another boat by its front legs, this one with the god Ra as a passenger. A large red arrow points at the cow and is labelled “Alecto???”.]

(More under the cut, because this shit will get long.)

First, for the record, I am emphatically not a learned egyptologist, so I might be getting things wrong here.

Secondly, ancient Egyptian mythology is a gorgeous mess. You can’t ever just say that x is the child of y, because they’re bound to also be siblings, and spouses, and x is also a and b and y is also b and c and... yeah.

Anyway, let’s do this.

---

I was rereading Harrow the Ninth with my roommates and we got to this part:

"Your sword will not rend its armour”, he said, with his back turned to them. “It’s weapons will ruin your flesh. It will not stop until it has subsumed its quarry.” (HtN p. 329)

and I thought to myself, huh, that kind of sounds like the Eye of Ra.

So let’s talk about that!

Now, the main story of the Eye of Ra is that, long ago, when the gods were still like, living on earth with the humans, people started to criticize Ra, their ruler.

That pissed off Ra, so he sent off his „Eye“ to punish them. She did, killing almost all the humans, but then Ra couldn’t really get her to stop. So the gods made a bunch of dyed beer with some blood in it, and the Eye drank it all and became drunk and docile.

So far, so good. Technically, at that point Teacher is talking about the Sleeper, but we all know that there are heavy parallels between the Sleeper and the Body. Also, there’s more where that came from.

"My lord,” said Augustine formally, “you told us the truth about Annabel–about Alecto–because she knew the truth too, and you never could control her.” (HtN, p. 478)

”Annabel Lee... was not the dying kind,” said the Emperor. It might be more accurate to say that I switched her off.” “You came to us and we asked, Is she dead?” said Mercy. “And you said, As dead as I can make her... I remember, Lord, that you wept.” (HtN, p. 479)

Neither Alecto nor the Eye of Ra are stopped by death or reason but instead kept somehow subdued.

But it gets better, and weirder.

The most famous version of the Eye of Ra is probably Sakhmet, the lion goddess. Sometimes she's a cat, Bastet; but just as often she’s depicted as a cow, Hathor.

There's a specific version of this myth called „The Book of the Heavenly Cow“ or „The Destruction of Mankind“. Here’s a translation of it.

I just learned about this myth. I learned about it under the Name of „Mehet-Weret“. Hathor and Mehet-Weret are… the same goddess? Not the same goddess? Sometimes the same goddess? They’re both cow themed, and occasionally take the same roles. Mythology is confusing, y’all.

Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about it:

Hathor was given the epithets "mistress of the sky" and "mistress of the stars", and was said to dwell in the sky with Ra and other sun deities. Egyptians thought of the sky as a body of water through which the sun god sailed, and they connected it with the waters from which, according to their creation myths, the sun emerged at the beginning of time. This cosmic mother goddess was often represented as a cow. Hathor and Mehet-Weret were both thought of as the cow who birthed the sun god and placed him between her horns. Like Nut, Hathor was said to give birth to the sun god each dawn.

Since I remembered the name Mehet-Weret and was very proud of that, that’s where I actually started my research here, and…

Mehet-Weret or Mehturt (Ancient Egyptian: mḥt-wrt) is an ancient Egyptian deity of the sky in ancient Egyptian religion. Her name means "Great Flood". She was mentioned in the Pyramid Texts. In ancient Egyptian creation myths, she gives birth to the sun at the beginning of time, and in art she is portrayed as a cow with a sun disk between her horns. She is associated with the goddesses Neith, Hathor, and Isis, all of whom have similar characteristics, and like them she could be called the "Eye of Ra". Mehet-Weret is primarily known as being the "Celestial Cow" or "Cow Goddess" because of her physical characteristics, but she contributes to the world in more ways than that. She is also the Goddess of Water, Creation, and Rebirth; in Egyptian mythology, Mehet-Weret is one of the main components in the making and survival of life. (...) She was credited for the birth of Re, also known as the Sun God Ra; she is also the one who protects Re. (Wikipedia)

SHE’S (a version of) THE PRIMORDIAL FLOOD, Y’ALL.

You said, “Teacher, what destroyed the House of the First?” “Not much,” said the Emperor, and he tried to smile. It was awful. “Rising sea levels and a massive nuclear fission chain reaction...it all went downhill from there.” (HtN p. 346)

"Even the devil bent for God to put a leash around her neck (...) But when the work was done (...) they bade him kill the saltwater creature before she could do them harm...” (HtN p. 328)

Next to you, the body said quietly, “The water is risen. So is the sun. We will endure.” (HtN p. 294)

On this same read-through I snagged on „The water is risen, so is the sun“ because it sounds so much like a quote, but I couldn’t find anything. Yes, John has sun symbolism and Alecto all that water stuff, but where is the connection?

Well, here. It’s just Ancient Egyptian Creation Myths.

The different creation myths have some elements in common. They all held that the world had arisen out of the lifeless waters of chaos (…) The sun was also closely associated with creation, and it was said to have first risen from the mound, as the general sun-god Ra.

That makes Alecto literally the First One. It makes her John’s protector as the Eye. It gives her a connection to water and and even death and the underworld. (It also gives her a connection to the sky, which always fits in a Space Fantasy.)

Essentially,

I can see two figures in Egyptian mythology that fit what we know of Alecto. Those would be the Eye of Ra, an uncontrollable creature of rage and revenge; and the flood from which the sun god rises during the creation of the world. And Mehet-Weret fits into both.

But you’re not convinced yet? Alright then. Remember how Hathor/Mehet-Weret is a cow?

"Oh, singular,” said Dulcinea quietly, more to herself than to Gideon. “Lipochrome...recessive.” (GtN, p. 106)

When she spoke at last, she sounded frozen and numb. “I see. I understand. Lipochrome. Recessive. You are the evidence.” (HtN, p. 410)

I did not know what the fuck to say to her incoherent spew. She said, ragged, peevish: “What? No tongue in your head, you–you mutant, you mistake, you great big calf-eyed fuck-up?”

If you’re like me and know nothing about biology, you’ll hop over to Wikipedia  and find this:

A lipochrome (from Greek λίπος ("fat") and χρῶμα ("color")) is a naturally occurring, fat-soluble pigment. Lipofuscin—a product of fat breakdown in lysosomes—is a type of lipochrome that is associated with the decomposition of cell membranes. Beta carotene, a lipochrome, was found in the retina, pigment epithelium, and iris of cattle eyes.

This is the entirety of the article by the way.

…and I was wondering why Tamsyn didn’t just call the eyes „Amber“.

Now you might say, but Chaos, you know they’re not really her eyes…

Yeah.

They’re John’s eyes.

They are, you might say, the Eyes of John.

---

THERE WILL BE MORE PARTS because I am LOSING MY MIND OVER THIS but this post is already longer than it has any right to be.

In the meantime, here’s an article on Mehet-Weret that I think is actually well researched and probably does a better job explaining how all these different gods fit together than I ever could.

[dreamii-yume]

@shikigamiuwu said :

"So y/n is a sex slave that Lilia brought for his son for Silvers birthday ( let’s just say that this is a medieval ages idea setup), Since Lilia know that Y/N is Silver totally type of girl, decided to brought it and gift it to her. So Lilia dress Y/N in a sexy and expensive lingerie and give him to Silver became just like the First one infatuated to Y/N and was really possessive to Y/N, Silver will go to lengths of beheading the person who touch her or help her escape from his grasp. (Lilia just supporting his son and helping him clean the mess and train her darling). You can put spicy stuff more into it if you want."

AGAIN. This plot too has so much potential to be a Sinfic _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): im crying—

Warnings : Dub-Con | Slavery | Master-Slave Relationship

Since the Valley of Thorns is essentially a place where magic is everything, I would presume that a human who do not possess a knack of magic is treated as the lowest of the low.

The man that bought you was strange, a unique multi-colored hairstyle and his fangs were sharp underneath that mischievous smile. He says he has a lonely son who had been eyeing you for a while now, but you have no knowledge of this “son” he speaks of. But this youthful-looking adult seemed like a big deal, considering how your employer immediately sold you off without further explanations. Before you knew it, you were placed in a carriage with the strange young man, giggling about how happy you would make his son to be.

This “son” of his was named Silver.

One look at him and it was immediate to you that they were unrelated by blood. For one thing, Silver seems to be a human whilst that strange man who bought you was not, he was a fairy of all things. They sure do seem like they share the same fatherly bond as strong as any other family though, it almost made you envious. “Lilia”, the name of the man who bought you, had only issued one order for you to follow, the only request that he asked of you.

“Try and get along with Silver if you will, (Y/N). Keep him happy at all times.”

You were a slave, but you were brought as a gift to keep Silver company during his birthday. When you first met him, he was quiet and polite, a true gentleman that made you feel like you were the princess and he was your knight. Perhaps it was the fact that this was the first time that you have been given this level of respect in your life that it made you feel lost on what to do. But Silver never minded your awkwardness, he sticks to you like a lost puppy when it should be you who needed to act like that. He was as strange as his adoptive father, in the most opposite of ways.

Lilia told you that Silver had been “eyeing” you for a while now, that’s the whole reason why he specifically bought you in the first place, because you were already a familiar face to him. You were confused at first, but now that you’re actually here, serving Silver in actuality, you began to understand what he means. He acts way too familiar with you, often interacting with you that you don’t think is befitting for a master to do with his slave. He follows you around like a lost puppy, asking how your day was, and even shows you quite the affection sometimes. He doesn’t show too much emotions himself, but there’s instances of assertiveness whenever he’s with you that you just can’t help but notice.

Silver...doesn’t really let you leave out of his sight, majority of all the times, not that you’re allowed to anyways. Everything that you needed to do in private must be relayed to him or else he’ll come rushing in panic the moment he finds you not by his side anymore. It’s gotten worse to the point that you were not allowed to sleep on your own bed anymore or even take a bath by yourself. You don’t get lucky when he’s asleep either, you’d think he’s a deep sleeper but as one of the personal guards of the young master of the Valley of Thorns, his strength doesn’t falter even when he had closed his eyes for the night. One little movement you make away from him always ends up with him growling in his sleep and in instant, his arms tightly wrapped around you in a suffocating manner.

“Listen to me...” He told you one night, his head laying on your lap as he reached out his hand to caress your cheek. His touch was gentle and warm yet, his expression was stern and serious, the entire opposite to show you how much you needed to pay attention to the next words that will come out of his mouth. “You’re not allowed to treat others like this, do you get it? I should be the only one occupying your mind.”

“...Like you are to mine.” He started saying possessive things like that in just a span of a few weeks, you don’t quite understand what he means the first time but you nod anyways. He always smiles when you agree with him before, satisfied with your answer but you did not expect him to sit up from his position and leaned closer to your face this time. It was by then that you realized that he had initiated the first ever shared kiss between the two of you. He was gentle, yet impatient like he had been waiting for this moment for so long that he wanted to savor this moment for just as long.

His feelings for you became stronger ever since that day, but came with it was an even stronger possessive feeling for you. Both men and women are no longer allowed to come near you, god forbid what happens to those who even dare to look at you funny. He wasn’t a violent person, just passive-aggressive most of the time, but he has the power that can intimidate people away...Hell, he can even scare you in some degree. Long story-short, the only person that you were allowed to think of was him and him alone, there are no exceptions, but that goes the same for him too.

Then, came the day of his birth once again this year, it was such a busy yet joyous day for everyone. You provided him with a simple gift that you made yourself, in which Silver had rewarded you with a gentle, grateful smile like he always doees. “Thank you, I’ll treasure it dearly.” His words alone made you warm on the inside, something that you didn’t think was possible for a slave to feel. You were lucky to be able to serve a master like him, for you to be loved and treated like how a human being should be. Silver made you feel all those things, and for that you were just as grateful.

It almost feels like you belong just right in this family.

But as night came on the very same day, you wondered why Silver began leading you away from the crowd and into his room. He said he had a request, a wish that only you could fulfill, so you were more than happy to comply. But as he sat you down to the bed and began to kiss you like he had been doing quite often now; it began to feel as if something else was at play here. “I want you...” He whispered in a ragged, impatient breath, cheeks flushing as his hazy eyes stared intently back at you.

You didn’t say anything in return and just let him do what he wants, pinning you down by the bed as his kisses became even more erratic, messy, and passionate. You didn’t know what to feel, you were so used to the feeling of being treated normally, like a friend, like a family that you nearly forget what your status really is in the first place...You are a slave through and through, you are destined to perform these acts and please your master however they desire. But perhaps it was because you’ve become too spoiled due to how they treated you that you could feel your stomach churning from the feeling of being treated differently now.

You were...nervous.

As evident with how you began to breathe heavily from just with his touch alone and his hands exploring your body had you sweating bullets. You gulped as a response when he reached down where your clothed flower was, you were trembling. You are a slave, you should know by now that you are going to be treated like this at some point in your life, and yet you were scared. The realization and the true meaning of his words when your master said that he wanted you is coming down upon you at the same time. You were scared, terrified especially as he began to mark your neck and started pulling down on your clothes.

...But it was way too late to say quits at this point for you have already fallen, you’ve lost the moment you felt yourself at home in the comfort of this family. You have no choice but accept such fate, especially when Silver looked so ecstatic about it, mistaking your trembling body as an act of excitement. In the end, you should’ve known better than to get attached to your master like this, to empathize with him and allow your mind to create a soft spot for him. You can’t bear to see him enraged, disappointed, or even sad due to your rejection...It’s all too painful for you to witness.

...But maybe that was the point after all? The unexpected fate of the slave that belonged to Silver. A proof of how emotions can too be a lethal weapon to corrupt one’s mind.

[clouditae]

Cookies

Jimin x reader | 18+ | oneshot | neighbors au | smut | oral | roleplay | swearing

Word: 3.2k

You made cookies, and it’s only fair to share it with your neighbors

You wave goodbye to your elderly neighbor, her wrinkled smile making your smile grow. You're going to miss her the most. You wish you didn't have to move, but with your promotion and them relocating you, there isn't much of a choice. You love your little, cozy apartment, and if the commute isn't so far, you’d stay. You'll miss your neighbors too. Well, the ones you talk to and know well enough to invite over for dinner.

Looking down in your hands was the last bag of baked cookies. Letting out a breath, you quickly fix your hair and dress. The last person to receive your cookies is your neighbor Jimin. The neighbor that all young women and men know about. The neighbor everyone wants to fuck, and some got lucky enough to do so. You only know because he makes the girls scream, and it only makes you wish you were one of them.

You'd never do it. It would only make you feel like just another one of his... play things. Through the numerous glances and seductive talks he would give you, you thought it would be best to show him what he's missing. For not asking you out once you suppose. You walk up to his door, room 33 and knock. Suddenly you feel ridiculous for dressing up so much. You're just saying bye, thanks and hand him his cookies. Why go over the top?

The sound of the lock turning told you it’s too late to change your mind. The door opens to reveal Jimin with nothing but a towel wrapped around him. Your eyes can't help but wander from his black hair sticking to his forehead to his toned abs shining from the water drops that are sliding down and disappearing beyond the black towel. You really wish you can see what’s underneath.

"Can I help you, princess?" he asks, voice raspy and just...

You blink and meet his eyes. "I just wanted to give you these as a thank you and farewell." He looks down at the bag in your hands, a brow lifted. "I'm moving next week, so I just wanted to give these to you. If you're allergic or something—"

"You can leave them on my counter," he says, opening the door wider for you as he walks away.

"I'm sorry?"

"The kitchen is to the left." He points down a doorway as he continues down the hall. "I'm going to change real quick." Then he disappears, leaving you standing outside his entrance.

You didn't know what to do but thought it was best to do what he says rather than stand there like an idiot when he comes back. So, you enter the apartment, close the door behind you, and make your way down the hall and enter the kitchen. You couldn't help but gawk at how nice and clean his kitchen is. White walls, dark wood cabinets and a small table in the corner for two people. What if he was a chef? With all the high end appliances, he must be a great cook. Realizing you're admiring his kitchen and still holding the baked goods, you walk over to his counter and set the cookies down. Is this marble?

"So you're moving?" You jump at the sound of his voice. You turn around, mouth open to answer his question—where is his shirt? Where is his shirt? He's obviously doing this on purpose. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorway. "You're moving?"

You shake your head, eyes going up to where his are. "Yeah. I got a raise and I'm being relocated, so it's best to find an apartment closer to where I work." He hums in response but nothing more. You move to the side and point to his gift. "This is a thank you and farewell gift."

"Thank you," he repeats, his head cocking lightly to the side in what looks like confusion.

"Yeah. A thank you for helping me when it came to my groceries, my mail and a lot of other things you didn't need to help me with but did. So, thank you." You open the bag out of nervousness because you don't know what to do now. "Would you like to try one?" you ask him, holding the bag open but not grabbing one. He might not like you touching his food. You don't know. You're nervous.

Jimin pushes himself off the doorway and walks over to you. You forced your eyes to stay on his. You know that if you look down at his pajama pants, you could probably see his junk. You're not a pervert. Nope. He is standing very close to you as he grabs a cookie out from the bag. Wow, he smells nice. Like pinewood? You're not sure but you could smell this all day.

"So you came over to give me these," he begins, stepping closer to you and forcing you to step back, "wearing my favorite dress of yours." You're backed up against the counter, his body a few inches from yours. His mint breath was fanning your face. You couldn't meet his intense gaze as you decided to look at his neck.

There was one time you wore this dress and you met Jimin in the hallway. You suppose in his flirty tone he complimented your dress. You felt butterflies when he told you what he thought.

"I... I didn't know it was your favorite dress," you half lie. You knew he liked it because of the compliment, but you didn't know he'd act like this with you wearing it. Alone. In his apartment.

He hums again. "Turn around."

"What?" you mumble, looking up at him.

"Turn around," he commands, and you do. Never touching his body with your own. "This is my favorite dress because of the back." You feel his finger brush along your bare back. Your dress had an open in the back. Not big, but enough to see. "Do you know what this dress does to me?" He places his hands on the counter, trapping you between his arms.

"No," you whisper, heart racing. You gasp, suddenly feeling him against you, his lower region fully on your butt. You could swear you feel his half erect member.

"The first time I saw you wearing this I wanted to rip it off you," he rasps in your ear. "Let you know just how hard you make me." He grinds against you, his penis getting more and more erect.

You let in a shaky breath. "I-um"—you swallow, gripping the bag for dear life— "I have to meet my boyfriend soon."

"Your boyfriend?"

You nod. "I have a boyfriend."

"You want to leave?" You can only nod, voice wanting to betray you with a small moan. "You're not attracted to me." You shake your head in agreement. "Then why are you moving your hips?"

At his words, you realized that you were moving your hips. You were grinding against him just like he was doing to you. "I don't know," you lie, but you actually stop and so does he.

"Where's your phone?" he asks you.

"In my pocket." The reason you love this dress so much is because of the pockets it has. It's amazing.

You feel him dig in your pocket and pull out your phone, handing it to you. "Text him and tell him you won't be coming," he instructs as you take your phone.

Your eyes widen. "I can't do that."

"Up to you, princess. I'm in the mood, and the things I can do to you..." he trails off, his hands on your hips and lower until it reaches the end of your dress.

You're a mess. You don't know what to do. With Jimin sliding his hands up your thighs under your dress was not helping. His fingers leave a hot trail in his wake and all you wanted to do was feel more of him. Feel his hands roam your body and feel his member inside of you. You're horny and you want him. So, you send a text to your boyfriend.

"Good girl," he tells you, voice deep and silky. He places a hand on your upper back and pushes you forward, forcing you to lean on the counter. He pushes your dress up until it reaches the middle of your back. He chuckles and you realize you're wearing a thong. "Picking all my favorites today." His hands are on your ass, squeezing them before he slaps your butt. You jump a bit, the bag of cookies now out of your hands. He was now at the bands of your underwear, pulling it down until it fell on its own. "So this boyfriend of yours," he begins, his feet lightly kicking your own to spread your legs, "have you had sex with him yet?"

You think back, but find it hard when his fingers brush along your walls. "Y-yes." How much longer until you feel his fingers in you?

"Is he good?"

Was he? "Yes." It's been so long since the two of you had sex. Always busy. Never has time. He finally reaches your bud. "He always makes sure I'm the first to come. Sometimes it happens twice before he comes." You moan as his fingers move in a circular motion.

"Do you think I'm bigger than him?" he inquires, his other hand swiftly unbuttoning the first two buttons of your dress to cup your breast and play with it.

"I don't know," you breathe, swirling your hips to try and feel more. Much to your dismay, he removes his fingers from your womanhood and your breast.

You want to complain but he orders, "On your knees, sweetheart." You're hot and bothered but do as told. Turning around to face him, you get on your knees, looking up to meet him. He only nods at you and you knew what he wanted. You grab the band of his sweats, heart racing with excitement as you pull them down. His cock was a lot bigger than your boyfriend’s. You're beyond excited now as you grab his warm, throbbing tool, bringing your mouth closer to it.

You back up at him, staring at him with lust as you slowly lick the tip. He licks his own lips in anticipation. You give another lick but this time starting at the end of his base and make your way up like you're licking a lollipop. "C'mon baby," he whispers, his hand pushing back a few strands of hair away from your face before holding all of it in his hands. "Show me how badly you want me."

Oh you want him all right. Doing one more lick at his tip, you finally put as much of him as you can in your mouth. You push further before pulling back, making sure you hollow out your cheeks. This motion continues for a while, slow and then quick all while Jimin curses under his breath. It seems like he let you go at your pace for a while before he decided it wasn't enough. With your hair in his hand, he guides you. His breathing is going ragged and he's now thrusting into your mouth rougher and deeper to the point where your nose is touching his waist and your eyes are watery. After a few more deep thrusts you feel his warm fluid fill your mouth. He pulls out and you swallow, breathing heavily.

Jimin can only smirk, releasing your hair and helping you up to your feet. "Bedroom, princess." You leave his kitchen, walking down the hall and guessing where his room is. "Clothes off," he calls from the kitchen as you find his room.

You wish you could admire his room, but all you want to do is remove your clothes and lie readily for him to ravage you. You slip your heels off, unbuttoning your dress and tossing it on the floor. You forgot your underwear is on the kitchen floor. Climbing onto his bed, you remain on your knees, waiting impatiently for him to come in. When you are about to touch yourself to keep your high going, Jimin walks in. You watch him as he climbs onto the bed and lies on his back.

He taps his lips with his finger. "Sit." You're eager as you crawl over to him and bring one leg on the other side of his head. You couldn't help but look down at him with uncertainty. "Don't be shy, baby. I'll fuck your brains out later." You feel chills run down your spine before scooting forward until his face was no longer seen. You could feel his warm breath before his tongue brushed between your lips. Your body could only jerk a bit from how sensitive you already are.

He explores every inch of your warmth, sucking on your clit and flicking it with his tongue. You're moaning, pressing your forehead against the wall as you enjoy the feeling of his mouth. Your boyfriend never let you sit on your face, nor did he hold you from trying to move away as he ate you out. Jimin is doing everything right as he explores you and finds your special spot and works there for a while before you feel his hands on your waist and actually moves you forward and back. You follow his instructions moving front and back, front and back until you are moving on your own, hand pulling his hair as you're practically moving at the fastest pace you could. You're louder, head up and movement no longer at a certain pace. You see stars as you ride in and out of your orgasm.

He holds you there, taking in all that he could before letting you climb off. He grabs the towel from his bedside to wipe his face from all that didn't make it in his mouth. You couldn't help but look down to see that he was hard once again. You're nervous as to what's to come. He holds his hand out to you, nodding for you to take it. As you do he pulls you closer to him. Scooting closer to him, Jimin cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours.

The kiss isn't needy or rough. Jimin is kissing you softly and sensually. His tongue brushes along your lower lip, asking for entrance. When you open your mouth, he explores, his tongue dancing with yours as his hands roam your body. One hand plays with your breasts while the other goes back to your lower region. You moan into his mouth, body sensitive and not ready for him, but you still want it. Your hand went to his member and began to stroke him, hoping he felt the same pleasure he was giving you.

He breaks the kiss. "You're pretty wet," he states, stroking your bud one last time. "I'm not wet enough." Catching on to what he means, you push yourself back just enough to lean down and take him in your mouth once again. You didn't lick him or tease him; you went straight for sucking him to the point where he was breathing heavy. He places his hand under your chin and taps your cheek as he says, "It's too early for me to come again." You sit up. "I want to actually fuck you first. Lie down." You lie on your back and watch him move between your legs and align his shaft. "I'm not going to be soft, love. I want to hear you." He pushes himself in and you gasp. He's big and is filling you in all the right places.

Once he's fully in he slowly brings himself out, and once he's almost at the tip, Jimin slams into you. From there he doesn't stop his pace. He grips your hips and thrusts into you with so much force. "Oh my—" you choke on a moan that escapes your lips. You grab onto the frame of the bed to try and keep you still, but that only forces the frame to bang against the wall.

"Come on. I want the neighbors to hear you scream," he grunts, thrusting even harder to earn a louder moan from you. "He's a dick who always steals random shit from me." Another moan. "I know you can be louder than that." Jimin pulls out, turning you on your stomach. He pushes himself back in and continues his rugged thrusts. He grabs your arms and pulls you up to him. He keeps one grip on your arm while the other goes to your neck, pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder. He whispers harshly in your ear, "The noises that are leaving your mouth are incredible."

You can feel that high, and it's coming quick. "I'm almost there," you choke, almost screaming in ecstasy when his hand holding your arm is now forming circular motions on our clit. "Please don't stop. Please."

He lets you go. You fall onto the mattress, his hand on your lower back keeping you pinned down while the other is gripping your waist again. "Come for me, baby. Scream. I want to hear you scream out your orgasm." The only thing you could hear was the sound of the sound of the headboard hitting the wall, the sound of your moans, and the faint skin slapping against one another. Then everything was silenced out by your screams from the orgasm you were having. "Fuck, you're tight," he rasps, thrusting no longer in a pace but all over the place as you feel his warm seed fill you. He continues his thrusts until he stops and slowly pulls out to collapse next to you. The two of you are breathing heavily as you turn on your back, staring up at his white ceiling.

"That was amazing," you tell him, chest heaving.

"Hell yeah it was. We should do that more often." From the corner of your eye, you see him shift a bit. He chuckles, earning your attention. He holds his phone out towards you. "Is this what you would have told your ex if we did this in the beginning?" You read the text you sent him.

[6:03 pm] Love: Sorry

You shrug. "I wasn't expecting you to start so early."

"You wore my favorite dress, and I saw you lower the v-line to show your cleavage. I couldn't help myself."

You raise an eyebrow. "You were looking through the peephole?"

"I was ready to fuck you when you asked to role play one of our encounters in the beginning. I wasn't expecting to see the baked cookies again," he laughs.

"Well after we started dating, you told me you loved the cookies and the dress was hot on me, so I had to do it for you," you answer.

"Well, hopefully we can still do it once we move into the new apartment," he sighs, running his hand through his hair. He glances at you. "Same time tomorrow?"

You chuckle, "Sure."

"Maybe we can do it in your apartment." You laugh even louder. "I'll bring the cookies."

[ghostdrew22]

Can I request a draco x reader where they just stay together all day even tho its a school day so they just like skip school all day and then one of their friends catch them? It probably sounds confusing but I LOVE YOUR WRITING

Where Words Fall Short || Draco Malfoy

So I changed it into a teacher catching them instead, I hope it still suits your fancy. Thank you so much for this request, I had quite a nice time writing it <3

Requested: Yes Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: mentions of mental illness? Idk what I should be warning you against in this one tbh so if you find anything then let me know <3 Summary: Draco is having a hard morning so Y/N keeps him company and they ditch lessons.

WORDS : 2114

~~~

Growing up, Draco continuously watched as a curtain was drawn above the topic of mental health in his household. What should’ve been long, informative discussions about his withstanding family history and hereditary struggles with mental health, was broken down into, “Your father just gets a bit overwhelmed sometimes”, and “Your mother is a woman, and as women do, she often gets erratic until she tires herself out.”

None of it was true, of course, just excuses used to try and avoid the problem. But it wasn’t discussed. Not when Narcissa would sleep for days on end, or when Lucius was hospitalised, and especially not when Draco began to display symptoms similar to his parents. The family healer was called in, Draco was diagnosed and medicated, and it was discussed no further. Because words were just not the Malfoy way.

You’d long become accustomed to his habits when he wasn’t feeling well, he’d told you himself about his struggles, and you’d adjusted quickly enough. Now you know, just by the sight of him, when he’s having a rough day. As hard as Draco tries to follow in his parent’s footsteps and draw a veil on his suffering, he just can’t bring himself to do it when you’re around. You make him feel safe.

You read the watch on your wrist, 8.10am, and sigh when you notice that Draco’s still not in the Great Hall for breakfast. Draco prides himself on being organised and punctual, so when he’s even five minutes late to breakfast you know that he’s having one of those days and he might just not get out of bed.

“He’s just running late this morning, I watched him walk to the showers.” Crabbe says beside you as he notices worry etch its way onto your features. You nod and smile at him.

“Thanks Crabbe.”  You respond before grabbing the empty plate on your other side and filling it up with Draco’s favourites.

It’s another ten minutes before Draco finally walks into the Great Hall, and you feel your heart wrench at the sight of him- hair still wet from showering, faint bags beneath his eyes and a solemn look painting his face- he looks exhausted. You smile at him when he settles into the space beside you and he smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

He interlocks your fingers together as he sits down and you slide the plate of food toward him. He kisses the back of your hand as a thank you and you nod before turning back to your own food. On mornings like this conversation is sparse- it’s like a useless chore that you can both afford to forget- and you both resort to actions as a means of conversation.

Normally, words would be spent on endless declarations of love, confirmations of support, queries of comfort and insurmountable pleas to just sit in silence together. But now, now with this routine and understanding that sits comfortably on the border of your relationship, words no longer need to transpire between you both in order for there to be a mutual understanding of what you both need.

Most kisses are ‘I love you’ or ‘thank you’, but every so often when Draco paints every square inch of your face in adoration with his lips, then he’s telling you that you’re beautiful, that every piece of you is just another reason for him to fall deeper into love with you. Hugs are usually him begging for attention, trying discreetly to drag you away from whatever it is that you’re doing and bring you down to his dorm with him for cuddles.

But Draco’s preferred method of communication on days like this, is squeezing your hand. Information by hand squeeze increases in degree; one is ‘I’m fine, just tired’, two is ‘I’m probably going to disappear halfway through the day for some alone time’, and three is ‘Please spend the day with me’.

So when you feel that familiar pressure against your hand come in waves of three that morning, you know that he’s having a particularly bad day. You turn to him and nod, and this time when he smiles at you, it actually does reach his eyes.

~~~

When the first lesson of the day is underway, Muggle Studies, you and Draco are lying in his bed in his shared dormitory. There’s a risk of one his roommates coming back to collect a forgotten book or leftover homework, but it matters little when the two of you are spaced out in the small world of your own invention. You’re running your hands through his hair as his head sits comfortably on your chest, and his fingers are running up and down your other arm in an effort to keep him occupied.

The two of you spend the next few hours like that, just lying in his bed in silence as Draco thinks himself into oblivion and you try to calm him down. It doesn’t work though, and at some point you grow frustrated at the amount of tension that he’s built up in this shoulders, and demand that he gets up.

“Why?” He asks with furrowed eyebrows as he lifts his head off of your chest.

“Do you trust me?” He nods, and you smile. “Good, then come on.”

You pull him behind you quietly as the two of you roam the castle and head toward the Astronomy Tower- trying desperately not to arouse suspicion and get caught skipping lessons just as the day is ending.

When you reach the top and see that the sun is shining faintly, a satisfied sigh escapes your lips. All that cold and darkness in the dungeons wasn’t good for Draco and you’d lugged him all the way up here for some sunshine. You know that it won’t really fix anything that’s bothering him, but at least the Vitamin D might lift his spirits a little bit or help him to relax a tad more.

You sit on the ground and pull Draco down to sit beside you. He drops his head against your shoulder and pulls the back of your hand up to his lips, Thank you, is what the action says and you smile at the small acknowledgement. You lean your own head against his that’s resting on your shoulder and he shuts his eyes in content as you pull out the book that you’d brought up to read.

“Should I read to you?” You ask and he nods very softly, so you do as he asks and begin to read the novel out loud.

It’s mundane, sure, but Draco thinks that he could spend the rest of his life like this. When words have always failed him, you’ve been there to pick up pieces of his unsaid ministrations. Most people, if not all the people in his life, have always found his failure to conjure up words and describe his feelings, annoying. But not you, never you, you have always loved the way he tries so hard to show you his love instead of tell it to you. Whenever he feels torn apart, like a rag doll being tugged on both arms, you somehow manage to remind him that he’s made of skin and bone, not cloth and plastic. It’s you that reminds him he’s worth something, even when he feels as though he’s worth nothing.

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?” You respond absent-mindedly as you turn your head slowly away from the pages and toward Draco. When you catch a glimpse of his contorted features, concern washes over you. “What’s wrong? Do you want to go back inside?”

“No, no.” He shakes his head softly and smiles at you. “I just want to chat, is that okay?”

“Well… I was enjoying this book…” You tease and laugh when you see that he’s not amused. “I’m kidding, am’ all yours love.” You peck him on the lips quickly before closing your book and putting it aside.

He sighs, “I’ve been thinking-”

“Oh, that’s never good.” You immediately respond and he narrows his eyes at you which makes you laugh, “Okay, I’ll stop now.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” He says with a roll of his eyes, and a small smile, before he takes a deep breath and continues. “I’m going off my meds.”

You take a moment to digest what he’s said before nodding slowly, “Oh…”

“Oh…?” He raises his eyebrows in anticipation, worried that you won’t support his decision. “Are you mad?”

You’re taken aback by his question and turn to face him in confusion. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, mother was furious when I told her.”

“Okay, but your mother is notorious for having the emotional range of a green bean,” Draco, albeit begrudgingly, laughs at your comment with a shake of his head, “What? Am I wrong?” You ask with a laugh as well.

“You’re not wrong but that’s not the point. You’re bloody rude!” He tries to stop laughing but it’s not working and soon enough the two of you are rolling around on the ground, crying your eyes out in laughter.

After a good three minutes has passed the two of you have finally calmed down and the serious atmosphere has returned. “I’m not mad Draco, I could never be mad at you.”

“You were mad that time I tried to force a Ravenclaw to do my Muggle Studies research for me.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone and you shove him lightly.

“That was because you were harassing that innocent child!” You exclaim with another giggle, “I’ve never been mad at you for doing something that involves only you.”

“What about when I dyed all my pubic hair-“

“I told you never to speak of that.” You cut him off sternly before he can continue and a naughty smile appears on his lips at the memory.

“That was funny, admit it.”

“We were on vacation with my parents! Do you understand how awkward the conversation we had, after the swimming pool, was? They were so concerned about the fact that I’d brought home a boy with blue armpit hair!” You exclaim with wide eyes and Draco bursts into laughter again. “You’re such an arsehole.” You grumble out with a pout and he pecks you with a smile.

“You love me though.”

“I do… I really do.” You respond genuinely as you stare at him in admiration. Even on his worst days, when exhaustion wears his face like a mask and words fall short from his lips, he’s still the love of your life and nothing can change that. “I’m really proud of you, for making a decision like that.”

“Thank you.” He sighs and you can tell how much this has been bothering him over the past few days, if not weeks, by the way his shoulders finally relax. “I just don’t think they’re doing what they’re meant to. I don’t feel any better.”

“Mhmm.” You nod at him to continue as you take his hand in your own.

“I don’t feel worse either though, I feel the same. It’s been a year and I feel the absolute bloody same.”

“What are you going to do instead?”

“Whatever else the healer recommends.” He shrugs, “If she’s got nothing else that will work then I don’t know.”

“Well… I’m here for you, always.”

“I know.”

And it’s true, he does know, sure as he knows that he’s a Slytherin. There aren’t many things and people that Draco relies on, the fear of them letting him down always a barrier, but you he puts his absolute faith in. Because when words fall short to describe the amount of love that he has for you, and the amount of love that you have for him, there will always be actions and you two will always have each other.

You take your hands and cup his face in them before peppering kisses all over his face. He giggles under your touch, an effect that you’ve always had on him and he hates, but you make no move to stop until every corner has been graced with feel of your lips. It’s every word that you could possibly say to him, every sentence that could hold the weight of your adoration, because sometimes, words just fall short.

“Y/N-“ He begins when you finally pull away, wanting to tell you that he loves you, but you cut him off with a dopey smile.

“I know.”

The two of you lie down against the cold, hard gravel- fingers intertwined as you both shut your eyes and bask in the soft rays of sunlight. It’s almost perfect.

Until.

“Mr Malfoy, Ms L/N.” A voice drawls.

“Shit.” You mumble when you remember that it’s Wednesday- Astronomy.

<~>

Did I impulsively write this after declaring I’m going on a week’s hiatus to move? Yes. Did I put off packing for this? Yes. Do I have any regrets? Nope.

anyway,

love you all,

jean <3

[rotshop]

*slams into your inbox* I just read through mag reader and Deimos headcanons again and I love it. I would def be interested in seeing more! (Also are you sure you don’t wanna hold his hand? Even just a little?) -Echo

gonna do a funney little mix of ideas here ,,,,, lol ,,,,,,,, also yes i am sure <333 i go 'hey check out this funny fish' and then i hold his head underwater.

[ tw brief, light violence, body horror and gore / blood ]

context

auditor + mag s/o ;

-OK OK HEAR ME OUT .

-you weren't originally an aahw project. while they're definitely the biggest company of sorts around there's still a few others that are like them but not exactly them hanging around nevada. you happened to be in some facility they decided to raid due to them having some possibly useful information regarding the anti-aahw . she's definitely a little less than enthused to get a call from her agents that she should come check this out but ,, when she lays her eyes on u that immediately melts away

-he's VERY very curious about you. keeps you close which is kind of nice bc it means you're treated pretty well but also it means a lot of being watched. audi just has like. a habit of unconsciously ''''''''studying'''''''' you. they're always noting little behaviors of yours down mentally and asking you little questions abut how you came to be and what abilities you hold.

-believe it or not he actually DOESN'T want you in fights. she knows you're incredibly capable but the thought of you getting too involved in a bunch of clawing and tearing again makes her get uneasy. she just prefers for you to stay by her side, with the excuse that you're a body guard of sorts for her (you aren't, she's got several other, more disposable mags that serve that role just fine.).

-HOWEVER. there is one time where he doesn't get an option in that. a few contractees and dissenters attempted a raid on the base audi was at, hoping to try and get some sort of bargaining chip to make deal with. before they can even really attempt to try and land some sort of hit on them you're already pouncing on the nearest grunt, blood already spurting and painting the walls red in mere seconds of your arrival. it honest to god shocks her into stillness, her just watching motionlessly the entire time, only really moving once to dodge some limb you'd mindlessly thrown her way after tearing it from its socket. WHILE SHE IS IMPRESSED ,,, she still scolds you a little for being reckless while trying to scrub the blood off of you with a wet rag, huffing that 'you could've gotten seriously hurt' if you were any less careful >:/

-however he does do the thng where he like. cups both sides of your face and then presses his forehead against yours. you have to lean down a lot for him to do so but still. sighs a little while brushing his thumb under your eyes and tells you to be more careful from now on.

-auditor is not immune to favoritism and it shows. someone brings it up (shakily, of course) and she just shrugs and goes 'idk what you're talking abt' while petting you who's got your head on her lap. said person promptly gets 'dismissed' after.

-hates whenever anyone tries to put some kind of muzzle on you, even if its just for the jaw dislocation thingy it still makes him go kind of '>:|' . he'll let them for like. a day at MOST (unless you keep trying to get it off, then chances are he's just gonna take it off for you. nobody really bothers asking / trying to get it back on you bc he just sends them a sharp little glare before they even can. if you REALLY need it that bad then he might try and convince you to keep it on a little longer or otherwise take your mind of it, he still feels really bad about it tho . )

sanford + mag s/o ;

- :)

-you two knew each other before he dissented / you became a mag. worked pretty close together and were just close in general !! you didn't know dei super super well since he worked in a different area but you two met a few times and hit it off pretty well.

-anyway ! he doesn't take your magnification well. at all. the first few times he saw you after it were the worst, mostly because those few times were primarily because you were lashing out at agents for one reason or another (mostly maltreatment from guards / people being shitty in general) . for the first while its so obvious that you're just exhausted from what's happened to your body that was NOT meant to become this, that you're tired and on edge from not being allowed any real rest. it makes him feel fucking terrible to see how awful of a state you're in and know that there's next to nothing he can really do to help.

-it especially hits him when he notices the other little changes. there's some specific moment where he's holding onto you far too tightly, clutching at the back of your jacket while he does his best to keep composed. you always had this habit of giving a half jokey hum of some stupid little joke or even just a 'what's wrong, big guy?' whenever he seemed off or tense, he can't help but make note of the lack of real response from you in the moment other than you wrapping your arms around him as well. another time, maybe he tries to make some little inside joke after something reminded him of it, looking back at you with a little smile. it hits him with a special punch to the gut when he notices your confusion, you just can't recognize it. you don't remember it anymore. you don't remember a lot of your old self or interactions anymore.

-you two end up getting split up at one point or another. orginally, he'd planned to run away with you and deimos buut,,, one way or another, you weren't really able to get out. he goes looking for you a bunch but eventually he has to stop when it gets to be too much and he can't find any real sign of you, he's quiet for a long time after it.

-HOWEVER . he does eventually find you in some abandoned warehouse him and the others had planned to look for supplies in. the entire time he's in there he keeps hearing sounds he thinks are just dei or hank but every time he asks or comments on it they just give him a look of confusion or a little 'what are you talking about?' it puts him really on edge, it's worse when he's in one of the further corners, digging through a few boxes and desperately trying to ignore how much it feels like someones there. anyway umm lol its just you ,,,, ehe . it takes him a solid minute to process that its you but as soon as it clicks he's yelling your name and running up to hug you. doesn't even stop to think that you could totally tear him a new one right then and there he's just too happy to see you. dei and hank both come rushing over after hearing him, dei recognizes you too and is just kinda 'oh hey !! friend !! :D' while hank stands there and just kinda stares.

-is able to take you back to base without too much argument from the others. he does his best to fill you in on everything that's happened in hopes you'll explained what happened on your part too. even if you don't he can't be too upset since he's just too gd happy to see you again ,,,, chances are you stick around him a lot . deimos is nice but u don't remember him super well and hank makes you uneasy lmao . its ok he thinks its funny though, just laughs a little whenever you stand in his doorway in silence until he notices you :)

[jikookiekosmos]

Classified & Confidential || kth (Part 1)

➥Pairing: detective!taehyung/reader

➥Summary: It’s been years since your close friend passed away, case going cold due to lack of evidence. You never once believed the story the police gave you, since they classified it under an ‘unfortunate accident.’ Now that there are telltale signs of something similar at play regarding someone else you hold dear, you decide to take things into your own hands. You hire world renowned private detective, Kim Taehyung. And he goes above and beyond everything you expected.

➥Genre: strangers to lovers (kinda slow burn), detective au, mystery, angst, eventual smut, fluff

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~7.1k

➥Content Warnings: detective/mystery au, (tw: mentions of death, brief mention of suicide in relation to a criminal case, implied foul play, stalking behavior, non-graphic detailing of a crime scene), slight forensic talk, mentions of nervousness and anxiety, some cursing, mentions of cops/police, unhelpful law enforcement (like they’re kinda terrible with the whole solving this case thing), feelings of unease and tension, we get bestie hoseok, tae is kinda extra but for good reason, no suggestiveness/smut in this chapter but it’s still 18+ due to it involving some of the aforementioned warnings

A/N: This will be a multi-part series that explores some darker themes, and each part will have appropriate content warnings listed; please read at your own risk. This part touches on backstory and introduces the characters, things will start getting a little more intense in the following chapters. I don’t have any kind of specific update schedule but ideally I’d like to get updates out every few weeks at the latest! I hope you look forward to this, and if you wanna be added to a taglist, please let me know~

Thank you @dntaewithluv​​​​ for your constant motivation and support (and for always beta-reading for me, even when we scream at each other about our ideas); hopefully I do Tae justice for you! I love you lots ❤️

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn @mwitsmejk​ @bangtanhome

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

5 Years Ago

The night sky was dark, blanketed by stars as it emitted a peaceful aura. There was no way to bask in the calmness of the night, however, with all the hustle and bustle that surrounded you outside of the apartment complex.

Crime scene tape marked off the area, and many onlookers had gathered to try and get a glimpse of what happened. You were one yourself, but you weren’t there out of sheer curiosity.

Your breathing was ragged, staggered, as you tried to hold yourself together and observed the scene in front of you unfold.

Police wouldn’t let you beyond the tape, despite knowing the person currently covered by the white tarp.

Minutes prior, one of the cops had been politely trying to hold you back as you thrashed around, mind muddled by the vision of your best friend’s face before the tarp concealed it.

“I’m sorry, we can’t let anyone unauthorized come past this tape, please stay where you are.”

“You don’t understand, that’s my best friend, please let me through, please-”

You couldn’t control the volume of your screams, prompting a few of the other bystanders to try and calm you down seeing as you were very clearly distraught.

An unknown amount of time passed before the thickest part of the crowd decided they’d had enough excitement for one night, retiring to their own homes. You stayed planted in your spot, prepared to not move until you got more of an explanation for what was going on.

You’d resigned yourself to the fact that if someone wanted you to leave, they’d have to do it by force, but you eventually complied after two cops convinced you to come down to the station and issue a statement, given your relation to the victim.

They didn’t grill you hard, which was something you appreciated at the time, since you were really in no state to handle a grueling interrogation. You knew you could be marked down as a potential suspect, but everything from their investigation pointed to them believing it had either been an accident or a possible suicide attempt, the latter of which would almost entirely exclude your involvement.

Over the next few weeks, you cooperated with the investigation and helped them with whatever leads you could provide; you were determined that foul play was involved, because you knew your best friend better than anyone, and the story the cops were feeding you wasn’t adding up.

The theory as you knew it was this: she jumped from her apartment window, which was up a significant amount of stories, more than enough to kill a person. A potential suicide note was found at the scene on the nightstand by her bed, typed on a sheet of paper, so handwriting analysis wasn’t an option. The apartment was undisturbed aside from the window having been open.

It almost seemed like a cut-and-dried case, aside from one other small factor: unknown DNA from a hair follicle was found in the apartment alongside the victim’s own.

This didn’t surprise you…at first. You knew Ky had been perusing multiple dating apps and would often invite people over to her place after successful dates. But as far as you also knew, Ky hadn’t recently been on any dates, so there wasn’t a clear reason for that DNA to show up.

Ky had told you in the weeks leading up to her death that she was afraid someone had been following her around, and it unsettled her so much so that she deleted all the dating apps on her phone until she felt safe again.

Sadly, that day never came, and this fact alone caused the nagging suspicion of foul play to burrow itself even deeper into your subconscious.

Since the DNA was unknown, tracing it would be no easy task, but that didn’t stop you. Anything you could do to shed light on what had actually occurred, you were going to do it, plain and simple.

Which is why when the police decided to close the file on the case and label it as an ‘unfortunate accident,’ you were floored.

You begged them to keep focusing on leads when there really weren’t any, offering to aid in any way you could because there was no way that there wasn’t something missing.

Their response?

“Go home, Y/N, there’s nothing else you can do.”

You left the station that day only after you had caused somewhat of a scene, arguing back and forth with one of the lead detectives until you were ‘carefully escorted’ outside. Enraged, you banged your hand against the glass of the door before you slid down the wall beside it, hugging your knees as you tried to compose yourself.

You weren’t sitting that way for long before you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve. You looked up reluctantly and were met with one of the softest pairs of eyes you’d ever seen.

The stranger offered you a kind smile, one that made your heart ache in the aftermath of everything you’d endured the last several weeks. You’d been tackling this situation all on your own, with barely any help from mutual friends or Ky’s family since she’d been estranged from them.

But now, this man stooped down in front of you and smiling at you like everything would be alright…

It almost made you want to believe it.

“Hi, I uh, couldn’t help but overhear about your situation,” he finally spoke up, sounding somewhat bashful. He had bright red hair that peeked out under a cap he wore, and he was sporting a rainbow colored sweater.

A tinge of embarrassment fluttered through you. “Oh. Sorry you had to witness that.”

So this random stranger heard you telling off the police by yelling at them in broad daylight. Way to make a first impression.

To your surprise, he simply shook his head, smile widening. “No, don’t be sorry! I was, uh – happy to be able to listen.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Ok…may I ask why?”

“Well,” there was that bashful tone again, hand flying to the back of his neck as he looked to the side, “I’d been coming up here for a while, hoping to hear something regarding this case specifically. Usually when I stop by, there isn’t much going on and it’s not like I can just walk in and ask for classified information-”

He stopped speaking immediately once you held up your hand. You didn’t want to be rude, but you were thoroughly confused.

“Is there a reason why you’re eavesdropping for information about this case?”

He nodded eagerly. “Sure is! See, I’m working as a crime reporter, and-”

You scoffed as you pushed yourself to a standing position. “Unbelievable.”

Without sparing another glance to the gentleman, you shouldered past him, earlier hopeful mood soured by the fact that he was just another person looking for a scoop about Ky’s demise.

He was quick to follow, almost jumping down the steps to catch up to you.

“Hey, wait! Please.”

The way he begged pulled at your heartstrings because of how genuine he sounded, and for reasons beyond you, you turned around to face him and decided to hear him out.

You crossed your arms as he sighed with relief.

“Thank you. Ok, to start with, I’m a crime reporter, but I’m not trying to report on this case as everyone knows it.”

Another eyebrow raise from you. “What do you mean?”

The man smiled shyly, brushing away the red hair in his eyes. “I want to bring the injustice of the system to the public’s attention.”

That got your attention. “You do?”

“Yes. And I think your story could help with that.”

“My story?”

He nodded again, this time more eager than the last. “You’re pretty adamant that what happened to your friend was no accident, am I correct?”

Any mention of Ky caused the dull pain in your chest to come back, but at least this time, she wasn’t being mentioned in a gruesome or negative light.

“Yeah, I really don’t think it was an accident. But no one believes me.” You looked down at your shoes, scuffling one against the pavement.

You only looked up again when you felt the stranger’s hand on your shoulder.

“I believe you.”

All of the breath was knocked out of you.

“You…you believe me?”

The smile he gave you this time was bright and sincere as he dropped his hand by his side. “I do. I’ve been following everything posted online or in the newspaper about this case, and some of it just really does not seem plausible. And then after hearing you today, it made so much sense as to why.”

It still bothered you a bit that you were loud enough in the station to be heard outside, but that worry was now being overshadowed by the possibility of having someone else who could stand by you on your conviction.

“It…really means a lot to me that you would even consider my side of things. Truthfully, I think the police only tolerated me this long due to protocol.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

The red-haired man grimaced at your remark. “Yeah, no kidding. For as long as I’ve been in this line of work, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them take things as seriously as they should.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“About a year. But trust me, I’ve seen a lot during that time.” His determined expression might have made you giggle under other circumstances because it clashed so much with the rest of his soft demeanor.

“I don’t doubt it.” You walked over to the nearby bench seated a few feet away and the stranger followed hesitantly, only sitting beside you when you didn’t give him any indication his presence was unwanted.

The both of you turned toward each other slightly before you spoke up again.

“So, how can I help you with what you’re wanting to do?”

He seemed pleased that you were on board, eyes shining. “For starters, do you think I could interview you? I’d have to ask some sensitive questions, but I feel like I could have a better understanding of the case that way…only if you’re comfortable, though.”

You swallowed as you thought it over. Your participation in the numerous interrogations during the investigation had now proved to lead nowhere, but maybe this time the outcome would be different.

“Sure, I don’t mind. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, to the best of my ability.”

The stranger beamed, looking happy enough to nearly jump out of the bench, despite the current subject matter. “Great!”

His cheerful nature was a little infectious, you had to admit, because you already started to feel a little lighter in his presence. A hand appeared in your line of vision.

“My name is Hoseok, by the way. We haven’t been properly introduced yet so that would be the next best step, I think.”

You did giggle this time at his action. “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. I’m Y/N.” You took his hand into your own to give it a small but firm shake.

“It’s my pleasure, Y/N. Now,” he regarded you with that same soft look he had in his eyes when you first saw him at the station, “what do you say we discuss some logistics over lunch? My treat, of course, since you’re agreeing to help me.”

For the first time in ages, the smile that graced your face was wholeheartedly genuine. “Sounds good.”

Thus, the beginning of a beautiful, long-lasting friendship bloomed that day outside of the one place you’d begun to loathe more than anything else. Over the next few years, Hoseok stood by your side in more ways than you could count, and he was now someone you considered to be one of the best friends you’d ever had.

One of the only best friends you’d ever had.

What you never expected was to be seated with Hoseok at the same diner that started your initial conversation about Ky’s case 5 years later, discussing something much too similar for your liking.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

Present Day

You sipped from your coffee mug, enjoying the warm beverage as you waited at the diner. The weather had been less than ideal, with rain pouring all day long and displaying little signs of stopping.

But Hoseok had been adamant about the two of you meeting up after your voicemail you left the previous night.

As you were thinking about your close friend, you heard the bell above the diner door ring, signaling his arrival. He spotted you across the room and quickly rushed over to your table, leaving rain droplets in his wake.

Hoseok shrugged out of his soaked jacket and tossed in into the booth seat beside him as he shook his head to – hopefully – rid himself of the water trying to slide down his face.

“Hey,” he finally breathed out once he was settled. His usual wild red hair was darker now thanks to the rain, stern expression plastered onto his face.

“Hey.” You responded meekly, attempting to give him a weak smile. Your stomach was churning with unease at the conversation you were about to have.

Hoseok took a deep breath before he folded his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. The coffee you’d ordered for him had been pushed to the side, momentarily forgotten.

He lowered his voice. “Are you sure the pattern of behavior is the same?”

You nodded slowly, going over all the details again in your mind. “I’m positive. The only difference is Yuri waited longer to tell me that she thinks she’s being followed than Ky did.”

Ky. Not a day went by where you didn’t think about her, seeing her smiling face when you would close your eyes at night and try to drift off to sleep.

Slumber came much easier these days than it did those first few months, but every now and then the same nightmare would plague you about the night you saw her on the sidewalk.

You shook your head to shrug the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time.

“Shit,” Hoseok finally responded. “That doesn’t seem like good news for us.”

“My thoughts exactly. Who knows how long this has been going on. And she’s been receiving the same kind of ‘gifts’ Ky would get, too. Random text messages, voicemails from unknown numbers…she tries to brush it off, but I know this scares Yuri.”

“She doesn’t recognize who’s speaking in the voicemails?”

You shook your head solemnly. “No, they’re using some sort of voice modifier.”

Hoseok cursed again, this time under his breath. “Well, what do you want to do?”

You gulped. Truthfully, you didn’t know the answer yourself. On the one hand, everything currently happening to your friend mimicked what happened to Ky, almost exactly. But on the other hand, Yuri made it known time and time again that she thought you were too paranoid for your own good sometimes.

So, you were at a loss.

Yuri and you were close, in a sense. You’d been friends for the last 4 years, working at the same company after graduating from college and even getting transferred to a new one in the same division so as to not be separated. Outside of Hoseok, you considered her your dearest friend.

But at the same time, you knew that Yuri had those she held very dear in her own life that were there before you, and you’d never try to overstep.

Still…the events surrounding Yuri were too specific to be coincidental in your opinion, and if the hunch you had right now was correct, you needed to do something.

You wouldn’t – you couldn’t – let another person die. Not if there was some way for you to prevent it.

Something you didn’t do with Ky, and that would haunt you for the rest of your life-

Hoseok pulled you out of your thoughts by calling your name, frowning deeply once your gaze focused on him again.

“I…I don’t know. I feel like if I push too hard on this, I’ll also push Yuri away, and I don’t want that.” You worried at your bottom lip, your most infamous nervous habit.

“Be that as it may, this doesn’t seem like something you should ignore either. What’s worse: pushing her away but potentially saving her life, or not saying anything and she ends up in danger?”

A heavy sigh wracked through your body.

Your silence was enough for Hoseok to continue with his own line of thinking. “Well, we could consider going to the police-”

“Absolutely not,” you answered fiercely, with more emotion than you’d displayed the entire conversation, “not after how they handled everything with Ky and how they treated you.”

You and Hoseok had made a name for yourself throughout the town as ‘Public Enemies 1 and 2’ with the local police department. You, due to your persistent insistence that they were wrong in their deduction about Ky, and Hoseok because of the article he published that shamed their name.

The article was the first – and last – one that he published under the company that had hired him to be a reporter, seeing as the police department had enough sway to get him fired afterwards. He wasn’t able to find another reporting job anywhere within the town or those surrounding it.

There also weren’t any remaining records of the article anywhere online or in paper publication, but as a ‘fuck you’ to the department, Hoseok had a copy of it printed and hanging up on his wall for anyone and everyone to see. You had always admired how he handled the situation with grace even though it made your blood boil every time you thought about it.

Even so, some good had come from the whole ordeal. After failing to find another reporter job, Hoseok had made a somewhat notable career as a crime novel author, popular among locals because of how he came to be a novelist, and eventually rising to fame due to his own amazing writing skills.

He enjoyed his career and had a happy life, but that didn’t mean you had to forgive and forget the shitty events that happened to get him to that point.

Hoseok nodded in understanding. “Ok, so no police. Does that mean we try to tackle this whole thing by ourselves?”

“Neither of us have any legit experience with this kind of stuff, so that’s out of the question, too.”

Hoseok tapped his chin as he pondered another idea. The way his eyes lit up as it came to him made your lips curve upward.

“What if we go to someone who isn’t involved with the police but does have experience with that?”

“…not sure I’m following you.”

Hoseok huffed in an endearing way. “Have you ever heard of a private detective?”

The word ‘detective’ made you wince, considering your last encounter with one evolved into a screaming match…but it was also how you met Hoseok, so there’s a silver lining for everything.

“I’m not familiar with a private detective, but I’m open to listening to your idea.”

He grinned. “Perfect. Ok, so in my research for my latest novel, I actually ended up looking into some real-life private detectives.”

“And what did you find?” Your own curiosity was definitely piqued now, as it always was when Hoseok would talk about something so passionately.

“There’s one who’s basically world renowned, like he’s really fucking good. And his office isn’t too far from here, it’s basically in the next town over.”

You took another sip from your coffee, swirling the now lukewarm liquid around in your mouth as you contemplated.

“What else do you know about him?”

Hoseok’s shoulders slumped slightly at that. “Not much. The only information I have on him is his name and how you can contact him. From what I’ve read, he seems to be pretty selective with clients.”

“No idea what he looks like?”

Hoseok shook his head. “None. There weren’t pictures or anything like that, I’m not even sure how old he is.”

You hummed as you pictured this mystery man in your head, automatically defaulting to envisioning an older man, maybe in his 50s with already graying hair. A wise old soul who had seen so much in his long years of investigation work.

“Not like all that really matters, I guess. Do you think I should reach out to him?”

Hoseok nodded around his coffee cup before he tilted his head back to take a large sip. “That’s our best shot right now. And if it doesn’t work out, at least you tried.”

Such a simple statement but it made your stomach twist at the memory of Ky and how you weren’t able to save her because you didn’t know how. “Right.”

Hoseok pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through what looked like Google search results. When he found what he was looking for, he texted you the information.

“Kim Taehyung?” You said the name aloud, making sure you got the correct info.

“Yup, that’s him. If you do decide to contact him, let me know how it goes, ok? I’m already worried as is about you delving into something like this again.”

You patted his hand. “I know, Hobi. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, and I’ll keep you updated as much as possible.”

He smiled brighter than the sunshine. “That’s all I can ask for, bub.”

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You paced around your apartment, staring at the text that Hoseok had sent you earlier. The rest of your time with him at the diner had been calm and helped to quell your nerves, but now that you were alone again, you were riddled with anxiety.

You had typed in this Kim Taehyung’s number into your phone, ready to call him and just get it over with. The worst he could do is decline your ask for help, but you wouldn’t know unless you tried.

After a few more minutes of useless pacing, you finally hit ‘send’ and raised the receiver to your ear.

You were met with an answering machine almost immediately, wondering if maybe you typed it in wrong until you heard ‘you have reached the number for Kim Taehyung.’ The name had been uttered by a human voice, one that was deep and took you off guard.

You had barely enough time to ponder over the voice before you heard the tell-tale ‘beep’ signaling for you to start your message.

“Oh! Um, hello, Mr. Kim. This is Y/N- well my name is Y/N. I was referred to you by a friend of mine who said you may can help me with a situation I’m having. There’s…some suspicious behavior involving someone dear to me and I’m afraid they could be in danger, but I’m not sure who to turn to. I-If you’d like to give me a call back, you can reach me at this number…”

You finished your voicemail with your contact information before thanking him and wishing him a goodnight. Once you pulled away your phone, you checked the time.

10:36 PM. No wonder you got his answering machine.

The anxiety that had settled down while you were leaving your message started to come back, so to combat that you made the decision to go ahead and get ready for bed. There wasn’t anything else you could do right now, anyway.

You texted Yuri just to wish her a goodnight, and when you received a response almost immediately, you breathed out a sigh of relief. At least she was alright and that was one less thing to worry about for now.

You didn’t dream that night – which was a blessing in its own right – as you thought about the deep timbre of the voice from the answering machine. You’d only heard it briefly, but it left enough of an impact, that was for sure.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You awoke around 8 AM, your typical time no matter what day it was. It was the weekend, so you could get more sleep if you wanted, but a quick check of your phone had you sitting upright at a record speed.

[Unknown] 6:28 AM: I got your voicemail. If you want to discuss your case, meet me at this address.

Your heart thumped faster as you re-read the words over again. The following message had an address attached, and when you opened it, you noticed how it was for the neighboring town.

With all of the context clues, and taking into account everything Hoseok told you yesterday, you figured that it was Mr. Kim who had texted you. Obviously it would be from an unknown number, and he wouldn’t give out any explicit personal details to lead back to him; that’s just how he did things, as Hobi had mentioned.

And if he contacted you back, that meant he was interested in helping you!

Well…he was interested in hearing you out, at least. Still, you wouldn’t pass up on this opportunity. You quickly crafted a response before you started to make yourself presentable.

[y/n] 8:03 AM: Thank you! When should I meet you?

You had just finished brushing your teeth when you heard your phone chime again.

[Unknown] 8:06 AM: Whenever is best for you. I’ll be here all day and don’t have any other clients lined up.

You clutched your phone to your chest. This was really happening.

Once you were done getting ready to head out, it was just past 9 AM. You called Hobi to let him know what you were doing, and his excitement was tangible even through the phone. He urged you to keep him posted about all the details, which you assured him that of course you would.

The drive to the address you’d been given didn’t take too long, maybe around 20 minutes or so. What surprised you when you arrived, though, was the outward appearance of the building.

It looked abandoned, for lack of a better term, and you checked the text message 3 more times to make sure this is where you were supposed to be.

[y/n] 9:28 AM: I’m here…but I’m not sure if this is the correct place?

There was an eerie feeling settling in your stomach as you waited for a response. Maybe this had been some sort of trick? Had someone set you up?

The sound of a deadbolt clicking grabbed your attention, and the door a few feet in front of you opened up to display an older woman. At first, she seemed a bit disgruntled at having an unexpected guest, but before you could apologize for intruding, her gruff expression was replaced with a warm smile.

“I take it you’re Y/N?”

You gulped and nodded, placing your phone back into your jacket pocket.

“Follow me.”

She turned on her heel to walk back into the building, not bothering to wait and see if you would obey. You quickly scurried after her, only stopping once you were a foot or so behind.

You walked through about 3 or 4 different hallways, trying to remember the directions you’d taken but failing miserably. There wasn’t much to this building…you saw what appeared to be a few offices here and there but otherwise, not much else.

“Here we are,” the woman croaked, gesturing with her arm to a much nicer looking door that had gold lettering on the window.

The etchings were bold, and it was very evident where you were as you read the words:

KIM TAEHYUNG

Private Detective

The older woman rapped on the door 3 times with her knuckles before she walked off. You were standing there, dumbfounded, until you heard a voice softly telling you to come inside.

The doorknob clicked easily under your hand, and as you entered the room, you were in awe of how different everything looked.

The office was tidy and, dare you say, extravagant compared to what surrounded it outside of this room. There were two brown leather couches that had a decent sized coffee table seated in between them; further into the office, you saw the same type of leather chairs, one in front of and one behind a large wooden desk. You also spotted a few plants that looked to be well taken care of, one sitting in a windowsill and the other on a small table next to some black filing cabinets.

Whoever had designed this room clearly had a knack for matching furniture together, because it all meshed well and you appreciated the sleek look to everything.

Your eyes ended their scan as you looked over to the far wall, almost letting out a gasp when you noticed the figure across the room whose back was turned to you.

When you softly shut the door, the other person in the room turned around. It took you a second to start thinking properly again, because he was not at all how you pictured he would be.

For starters, he looked much younger than you thought originally, closer to your own age, which you thought was admirable considering his high status as a detective. He had brown hair parted down the middle that was slightly wavy, with bangs covering his forehead. He had very handsome facial features as well, some of the most handsome you’d ever seen, if you were being honest with yourself.

He was wearing dark jeans and a shirt with black and white print that was hidden underneath a black leather jacket. Everything about this man seemed to scream fashionable and it was throwing you for a loop. You weren’t trying to stereotype him based on your own experience with detectives in the past, but he was just…so not what you expected him to be.

You were wondering again if this might be a prank, until he finally spoke up and acknowledged your presence.

“Y/N, is it?”

You nodded dumbly, scrambling to walk across the office as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. He sat down in his own once you were close enough, and you shrugged out of your jacket before following suit.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, you felt small under his scrutinizing gaze. He was leaning on one elbow, chin resting in his palm as he stared at you with intensity.

He spoke suddenly, almost making you flinch with surprise.

“So, you mentioned a friend of yours might be in danger?”

You nodded, not sure what to say or if you should say anything.

“Does this friend know you’ve come to a private detective about their situation?”

You opened your mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Well…no.”

The man nodded, more to himself than you, it looked like. “Alright. That’s not an issue, just have to cover all the basics first.”

“What do the basics entail?”

He seemed amused by your interest as you took the initiative to ask questions now.

His fingertips drummed along the desk, a rhythmic sound that you found to be oddly soothing.

“It entails me finding out as much about your case as I’m willing to before I decide whether or not it’s something I can assist you with.”

He started twirling a pen with his unoccupied fingers, clearly waiting for you to speak first again before he continued.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you feel is pertinent to tell me.”

You sighed. “Well, to start with, I think my friend is being followed by someone-”

“Proof?”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you have proof? Does this friend have pictures or a video of them being followed, or is it just a feeling?”

“To my knowledge…no. It’s more that they sense it than have actually seen it.”

“And you want me to find out if this is happening or not?”

“Um…yes?”

It was his turn to sigh this time. “You don’t sound very confident in your answer, Y/N.”

His tone rubbed you the wrong way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he broke off to look away from the pen to your face again, “is that I need to know what it is you want from me before I can agree to help you.”

You were catching onto his game now. He wanted you to very specifically lay it all out for him, instead of leaving him to figure it out by grasping at straws.

“Well, Mr. Kim-”

“Taehyung.”

“Sorry?”

“Taehyung. You can call me that, if you want. I’m not super big on formalities for myself.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Why was his presence so overwhelming?

“With all due respect, Mr. Kim, I’ve never done this before. All I know is something isn’t right, and I don’t trust the police to offer assistance in the way I need.”

You swore you saw something flash in his eyes.

“Why don’t you trust the police?”

You crossed your arms and leaned more into the chair. “The last time I worked with them, it didn’t end well.”

“You’ve worked on the force?” He almost sounded impressed.

“No, sorry, poor choice of wording. I tried to help them with a case before.”

“Ah,” his eyes narrowed as he busied himself with the pen again. “Were you a suspect, or?”

“I was close to the victim,” you said softly, almost a whisper.

For a moment, his expression softened. “I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged, inhaling a shaky breath as you looked at your lap. “It’s fine. Just…there’s your answer. I don’t want to work with them again, so I came to you.”

“If I’m able to take your case, I’ll make sure you don’t regret that decision.”

His tone had you picking your eyes back up. You noticed a fire within his own, one that made you feel like he meant every single word he’d just said to you.

“Thank you.”

He carded a hand through his hair, the action drawing your attention to the silver watch that adorned his wrist.

“Can I ask…could you tell me about the case you were involved with?”

A slow nod from you. “If it’ll help, I can do that.”

He motioned for you to continue. As you started telling him the details, you noticed as his eyes widened. At one point, he politely interrupted you.

“Sorry, just – I remember that case. You were involved with that?”

“Yes.” You were twisting your hands together in your lap. “Ky was my best friend.”

“And the police just let the case go cold, without considering all traces of evidence?”

“I begged them not to, but there wasn’t much I could do. They made that known several times,” you trailed off. You thought you heard some semblance of a growl coming from the detective.

“I always knew something was weird about that…every report they published made no sense, and none of the pieces of evidence seemed to corroborate their theories.” His hushed tone suggested he may have been talking more to himself, but you didn’t question it.

“There were signs of suspicious behavior leading up to her death that they never considered, and any time I tried to bring it up, I was shut down immediately.”

“Are these ‘signs’ something you’re noticing now, with your other friend?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Taehyung hummed. “I see. You want to inspect this before it gets out of hand, so you came to me because the police are a lost cause.”

You nodded feebly, voice softer than ever when you spoke again. “I don’t want to see another person die.”

“You won’t.”

His answer startled you, even if it was as quiet as your own. Your eyes met briefly before he started looking anywhere but your face.

Another hush befell the room, and this one seemed more awkward than the last, considering Taehyung cleared his throat before he rifled through one of his desk drawers.

“Before you tell me anything else, I need you to look over something first.”

“Sure, whatever I need to do, I’ll do it.”

A crooked smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips. “You know, you’re a lot more obedient than most of my other clients.”

You…weren’t sure how to take that.

“I am?”

“Yeah. Most of the time they come in with demands and don’t like to listen when I push back on something. It’s part of the reason why I’ve gotten choosier about who I decide to do business with these last few years. But you,” he fished out a piece of paper from the drawer, “are proving much easier to work with. I appreciate that.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He chuckled, the sound low. “You’re also way more polite than most people I encounter.”

You smiled at him for the first time. “I’m grateful you’re taking the time to hear me out.”

His eyes lingered on yours for just a second before shifting down.

“First and foremost,” Taehyung slid a piece of paper across the wooden desk that separated the two of you, “if we agree to do business, you’ll need to sign this contract. It lists my stipulations and services I can provide.”

You picked up the paper, not quite sure what to expect.

“Take your time to read over all of it carefully, just so everything is clear on both our ends.” He leaned back in his chair, the sound of squeaking leather breaking your concentration for a moment.

You scanned through every line, all of the contract terms seeming straight-forward and easy to agree to-

-but the last line caught your attention.

“Could you explain this last part, please?”

Taehyung leaned over to look at which line you were pointing to before he let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, that. My #1 most important rule. Never get involved with clients’ personal lives.”

“But don’t you have to sometimes?”

“For work, yes. But this is more referring to what happens outside of that. Things can get…messy.”

“You talk like that’s happened before.”

Taehyung smirked but offered nothing more to that specific conversation.

“So, are we in business?”

You didn’t have to ponder long before you signed the contract with a flourish. When you passed it back across the desk, Taehyung smiled.

“Perfect,” he stood up to shake your hand, “I’ll be in touch with you shortly, once I’ve reviewed your case.”

You returned the shake. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

He squeezed your hand once before letting it go.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

You waited to see if there was anything else he might need from you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. He leaned down and sifted through his drawer once more, this time pulling out a Manila file folder.

“I use these to get the typical information needed for me to start my research. It just asks for client’s name and contact info, as well as a summary about what you’re wanting from me and other names of those involved. In this instance, it would be your friend. You can give me as little or as much info as you think I need.”

He handed the folder to you, and upon opening it up, you saw everything he had just mentioned to you on a sheet of paper stapled to the inside.

“I’d prefer you fill it out now so you can leave it with me, but of course I can’t force you to do anything.”

His tone suggested he was teasing, but you were quick to sit on one of the couches and begin filling out the paper. It didn’t take you very long, and when you were done, you noticed he was sitting on the opposite couch, elbows resting on his knees with his hands folded.

“Finished?”

You nodded as you slid the file across the coffee table, his pen placed on top. He accepted both and smiled at you.

“Alright, if that’s all you want to discuss, you’re free to go. As I mentioned before, I’ll be in touch with you after I’ve looked over everything and have some sort of plan on how to proceed. And of course, all of this information is strictly classified. You read that in the contract, but I always reiterate it anyway, due to some problems I’ve had in the past.”

“Of course.” You agreed with no hesitation. Honestly, you couldn’t fathom just how much he’s had to endure in his line of work, how many times he’s probably had to change locations and phone numbers.

Hell, Kim Taehyung may not even be his real name, and you’d never know.

“Any questions for me?”

You mumbled some form of ‘no’ as you shook your head. Taehyung walked over to the door to open it for you, and you certainly weren’t expecting the same woman from before to be out in the hallway, but there she was.

“Ms. Choi will show you out since this place is a bit of a maze,” his tone was light, a sheer contrast to the mood that had settled over the two of you from when you stepped into his office. “Don’t forget: I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.” You couldn’t help the authoritative term as it slipped past your lips, and you walked through the door before you could see the look on his face. You thought you might have heard some sort of laugh from Ms. Choi as she escorted you back to the front, but your imagination liked to play tricks on you sometimes.

Besides, Taehyung said he wasn’t one for formalities, so it didn’t really matter that much, did it? He had to be older than you anyway…right?

You spent the entire walk through the building trying to justify in your head what had just happened, and Ms. Choi gave you a soft smile as she held the door open for you to leave.

When you settled back in your car, you gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath, leaning your head back as you shut your eyes.

You still couldn’t quite believe that the last 30 minutes or so had happened. Taehyung had proven to be quite different than what you anticipated, but he was truthfully better than you could have hoped.

He seemed driven and motivated about his line of work, and the way he reassured you when you had your doubts-

-it made you feel…safe. Like this was a step in the right direction after all.

As you called Hobi to fill him in on everything during your drive home, you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out alright.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

➥Part 2

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

[today-only-happens-once]

out of focus

title: out of focus

word count: 3955

summary: 

The actions of a Fire Nation admiral during a meeting causes some problems for Sokka. The words of that admiral causes some problems for Zuko. They try to take care of each other. 

“What did the admiral mean,” Sokka blurts out without really thinking about it, “when he talked about insubordination?” 

Zuko freezes, the rag half-out of the bowl and his other hand still bracing Sokka’s (not quite holding it… far too gentle to be holding it). “What—uh. I, uh.” Zuko stops. Takes a breath. Tries again. He still doesn’t look up at Sokka. “When I was younger, I spoke out at a meeting.”

Warnings: burns (description of), violence, threats of violence, discussion of canonical child abuse, characters curse but no curse words are written, character is non-permanently injured, yelling/arguing, trauma

A/N: me? writing a zukka AtLA fic and posting it an hour short of midnight? Apparently, it’s more likely that you’d think. 

Read on AO3

--

Zuko has the patience of a saint, Sokka thinks to himself.

It’s an unusual thought, he realizes. A year ago, if you’d told Sokka that he’d come to think of the Banished Prince as ‘patient’, he’d probably have thrown his boomerang at you. A year ago, Zuko was one of the most short-tempered people he knew. A year ago, Zuko was the face of the enemy.

A lot changes in a year.

Sokka barely stifles a frustrated sigh. The attempt does not seem to go unnoticed by Zuko, who glances at him quickly before the corner of his mouth twitches with something like amusement. The meeting had been going on for hours, and Sokka can’t help but feel that very little progress on the treaty had been made. It wasn’t for lack of trying, Sokka knows, but war leaves messy problems in its wake. He knows that both the literal and metaphorical shrapnel left behind by a century of conflict can’t be swept away in a night or a week or a month.

It doesn’t make these meetings any easier to sit through.

“I want immediate release of all prisoners of war,” an Earth Kingdom ambassador demands.

“I second that,” Sokka hears his father--sitting across the table from him--add, a bit more calmly but no less firm. “I have men in those prisons that haven’t seen their family in a decade.”

“Of course,” Zuko replies at the same time a Fire Nation soldier snaps, “absolutely not.”

Zuko levels a hard look at him. “Admiral, people who were arrested as prisoners of war have no need to remain so after the war has ended.” He looks to Hakoda, then to the Earth Kingdom ambassador. “I’ll draft that mandate tonight and will ensure it’s circulation as soon as possible.”

“This is an outrage!” The slam of a fist against the table makes Sokka’s hand fly to the boomerang strapped to his hip instinctively. The admiral is on his feet.

“Admiral,” Zuko says, his voice steely as he rises from his own chair. The Fire Nation soldier cuts him off.

“Where is the justice for the Fire Nation families whose sons and daughters were slaughtered by those criminals?”

“Admiral--”

“I remember a time when you cared about Fire Nation soldiers! And it’s hard to believe you’ve forgotten, seeing as you ought to be reminded every time you look in the mirror--”

“Enough!” Zuko snaps. “You will watch your tongue or you will be escorted out. You approach insubordination.”

“You are a child,” the admiral sneers. “Though one that ought to know a thing or two about insubordination, given your father’s attempts to brand you with a permanent reminder of its consequences--”

“Warriors!”

“Then again, he always was twice the leader you will never be. Long live the Phoenix King!”

Sokka sees the warning signs—the slight shift of weight, the clench of the man’s fists—and leaps to his feet. “Zuko--!”

“Sokka!”

There’s a blinding light and scorching heat. Sokka feels something slam onto his shoulder and he dives instinctively for cover as the familiar roar of a fireball explodes in front of him. The flames are bright and lick around him, and Sokka throws a hand up to protect his face. He blinks the spots from his vision as he yanks his boomerang out of his belt.

Zuko is standing beside him, his stance ready and his hand outstretched, having evidently dispelled the fireball that had been launched at him. Sokka leaps back up to his feet and hurls the boomerang in his hands towards the Admiral, hitting his hand right as he moves to launch another attack and forcing it to go wide. A burst of flames slam against the wall to the left.

The room is in chaos.

Sokka barely hears the shouts of alarm and curses over the roar of dying flames. He sees his father, already on his feet, diving underneath a bolt of red fire. Across the room, the Earth Kingdom ambassador jerks their hand. There’s a rumble in the ground before it rises and anchors around the Admiral’s feet, holding him in place.

Sokka sees the admiral’s gaze meet his own and narrow. The Fire Nation soldier bares his teeth in a snarl, his fist shooting out. Before Sokka can blink, Zuko steps in front of him, dispelling the flames just as the door ricochets open. Two Kyoshi Warriors flood in and in a series of quick strikes, the admiral drops. Awake, but limp.

Sokka thinks idly that he’s grateful that Ty Lee taught them how to block chi.

“Your father should have killed you that day!” the admiral shouts as he’s dragged through the doors. “He showed mercy on your pathetic, worthless—” the door slamming shut cuts him off.

The silence that follows makes Sokka’s ears ring. He can still feel stale adrenaline coursing through him, his heartbeat pounding in his chest. For a moment, nobody moves. Zuko awkwardly clears his throat.

“Apologies for the, uh, disruption. It shouldn’t happen again.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Firelord Zuko,” Hakoda assures him, but there’s something odd in his father’s expression when he looks at Zuko that Sokka doesn’t understand.

Zuko says something in response, but Sokka doesn’t catch it. As the adrenaline bleeds out of him, his muscles relaxing, Sokka realizes that his fists are still clenched. Sokka forces them to relax, and hisses as it sends a jolt of hot pain through his left hand. When he looks down, he realizes that the skin on the top of part of his hand near his knuckles is a blistering, angry red.

Sokka’s hiss doesn’t go unnoticed. Zuko looks at him over his shoulder, his brows drawn together in confusion before his eyes fall to Sokka’s hand. Then, they go wide.

Zuko turns back around suddenly to address the room, his back straighter. “We will adjourn the meeting for the afternoon. We will reconvene tomorrow.”

“Firelord Zuko—” an ambassador from the Northern Water Tribe protests, but Hakoda interrupts him.

“I think we could all use a breather, Kovrik. Coming back tomorrow with a clear head is a good decision.”

“Yes… yes, I suppose that’s fair.”

Sokka is finding it increasingly difficult to follow the conversation. His hand hurts, and it’s taking every last drop of his willpower and pride to grit his teeth and swallow back the whimper that wants to push up his throat. It’s not until Zuko’s face is taking up his entire field of vision that Sokka realizes everyone but the two of them and his father have left the room.

“Let me see,” Zuko says quietly, then curses under his breath when he looks at Sokka’s hand. “Where’s Katara when you need her.”

“Do you have anything that can help?” Hakoda asks from behind Zuko.

“Yes, sir,” Zuko replies, his brows still furrowed in concentration. “Though it’s not quite as immediate as waterbending healers. But it should help with the pain, and prevent infection. Follow me.”

Sokka feels Zuko take his elbow and guide him out the door of the meeting room and down the hall. He’s distantly aware that Zuko is moving quickly—not quite a jog, but only barely shy of it—through a network of corridors. His hand feels like it might still be on fire, and Sokka looks down at it again just to be sure that’s not actually the case. He tells himself that he’s endured injuries more painful than this. The broken leg was worse, he thinks, though it does little to actually help with the burning sensation in his hand.

He’s vaguely aware that Zuko says something quickly to two guards that are flanking a set of doors before he rushes in. Sokka looks up and realizes it’s Zuko’s chambers. He’d only been in here a couple of times before, largely while Zuko was still recovering from Azula’s lightning strike in the weeks following the end of the war.

“Wait here,” Zuko tells him before disappearing through another door on the far side of the room.

“You had good reflexes in there,” Sokka hears his father’s low, soothing voice speak up. He’d had almost forgotten he was there. Hakoda moves the chair that had been beside the bed closer to Sokka in a clear direction to sit down.

“Lots of practice,” Sokka replies as he sits. He hisses a little again as his hand flares and grits out a swear behind clenched teeth.

“Easy,” Hakoda says softly. He places a bracing, comforting hand between Sokka’s shoulder blades. It’s grounding, and he’s grateful.

“Wish Katara was here,” Sokka tells him, echoing Zuko’s comment from earlier.

“I know. Unfortunately, I don’t think she’s coming to Caldera for a while. She’s still in Ba Sing Se with Aang.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Her magic water comes in handy though.” Sokka gives his father a tight smile. “Get it? Hand-y?”

Hakoda snorts just as the door opens again. Zuko has his arms full of a large bowl, his hands fisting a few vials and some bandages. There’s something pinched about Zuko’s expression, and the way he doesn’t meet Sokka’s eyes as he kneels in front of him feels odd. The bowl is full of water, Sokka realizes, as he sets it on the ground and begins to empty the vials into it.

“Can I see your hand?” Zuko asks, and the question—for some reason—catches him off guard.

Sokka blinks. “Yeah. Sure.” He grimaces as he places his hand in Zuko’s, but the excessive gentleness surprises him so much that Sokka almost forgets that his hand hurts.

Zuko was many things, but Sokka can’t remember a time—even after he started to get along with the Fire Prince—that he would have described Zuko as gentle. But his grip on Sokka’s hand is careful. Almost excessively so.  

Zuko hums in the back of his throat as he inspects the burns. “I don’t think it’ll have permanent damage,” he says quietly. “But I still need to treat it so it doesn’t get infected. It… might hurt, a little. But then it should feel better.”

“No permanent damage. That’s good,” Sokka says. He swallows, and nods. “Okay.”

For a long moment, the only sounds that fills the room is the quiet splash of water in the bowl as Zuko submerges the cloth rag again and wrings it out. Sokka lets his gaze float around the room.

Zuko has left it mostly bare. There’s a portrait of Iroh and a woman that Sokka remembers being the Fire Lady—Zuko’s mother—hanging on the wall near the headboard of the bed. On the dresser beside it is a drawing that Sokka did of the group of them months ago. He sees a pile of papers on the desk across the room. He thinks one of them has Aang’s signature at the bottom, but it’s too far away for him to know for sure.

Bright, painful heat searing his hand slams his attention back to Zuko in front of him and Sokka yelps, yanking his hand away. Zuko grimaces, retracing his own hand.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding more earnest than Sokka expects. “This part is painful, but it’ll stop hurting in a minute.”

Sokka fights to pull his breathing back under his control. In through his nose, out through his mouth. “Right,” he manages, his voice tight. “Right, sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know it hurts.”

Something about that line—and about the fact that Zuko still hasn’t met his eyes since returning from the other room—drags Sokka’s thoughts back to the conversation in the treaty meeting. There were several things that the admiral had said to Zuko that Sokka didn’t quite understand. He could only remember pieces of things said, but they repeat in Sokka’s head like disjointed pieces of a puzzle that he can’t quite make fit together.

seeing as you ought to be reminded every time you look in the mirror… insubordination… your father’s attempts to brand you… consequences…

Sokka’s gaze falls back to Zuko, dutifully bowed in front of him. There had long been pieces about Zuko that Sokka had found puzzling. Things about him that didn’t quite fit together. Sokka considers himself a person pretty good at figuring out how things worked together, and that extended (with less success) to figuring out how parts of people make up the sum of their whole.

Zuko, though… Zuko had always been something of a mystery. But as the words of the admiral ricochet in his mind, there’s a picture beginning to come together that is still just a little too hazy, a little too out of focus, to fill in the spaces that Sokka felt were missing.

“What did the admiral mean,” Sokka blurts out without really thinking about it, “when he talked about insubordination?”

Zuko freezes, the rag half-out of the bowl and his other hand still bracing Sokka’s (not quite holding it… far too gentle to be holding it). “What—uh. I, uh.” Zuko stops. Takes a breath. Tries again. He still doesn’t look up at Sokka. “When I was younger, I spoke out at a meeting.”

Sokka’s brow furrows as Zuko presses the rag to the back of his hand again. Sokka realizes that his hand has stopped hurting, but he’s too preoccupied with what Zuko said to pay it much mind. “After the stuff at Ba Sing Se? When you went home?”

“No, I, uh.” Zuko clears his throat. “Before that. Before… yeah. Earlier.”

Your father’s attempts to brand you…

“What happened?” Sokka asks. The way Zuko’s shoulders seem to tense doesn’t escape his attention, and there’s a part of him that wonders if perhaps he shouldn’t have asked. But it also feels like a question that once asked, is too late to take back.

Zuko pats Sokka’s hand dry with another towel and begins to gingerly wrap a bandage around it. He keeps his gold gaze steady on the work. Sokka keeps his gaze steady on Zuko.

“My uncle allowed me to attend a war meeting where they were talking about some battle strategies to use against an Earth Kingdom battalion. There was a general that wanted our newest fleet to serve as a distraction while we mounted an attack from the rear,” Zuko begins. There’s something off about his voice, though. Something detached and careful. He keeps wrapping the bandage. Around and around and around.

Sokka frowns. “That’s not fair,” he says. “Your newest recruits? They’d be slaughtered by an experienced battalion like that.”

Zuko sighs, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Exactly,” he says in a low voice. “And that’s what I told them. I wasn’t thinking. I just… yelled at him.” Sokka opens his mouth to disagree—it sounds like Zuko was thinking, unlike anybody else at that meeting—but Zuko cuts him off as he secures the end of the bandage to Sokka’s palm. “My father didn’t… take it well. I was challenged to an Agni Kai, and I thought I would be facing the general in it, so I accepted.”

Zuko gathers the bowl and empty vials as he stands, crossing the room to set them on the edge of his desk. Sokka stands up slowly as Zuko does so. The pieces that had been out of focus for so long are starting to come together, and Sokka feels his stomach rolling with a leaden weight against what he can sense is coming.

“No…”

“It wasn’t the general,” Zuko continues, his voice so quiet that Sokka is sure he would have missed it if it hadn’t been dead silence around them. “It was my father.”

“You faced your father in an Agni Kai?”

“Not exactly. I…” Zuko stares down into the bowl of water beside him, his gaze distant. “I couldn’t fight my own father. Instead, I begged him for forgiveness. I was met with a fistful of flames.”

Zuko gestures vaguely at his face, and Sokka’s blood turns to ice.

“He…” Sokka’s throat closes, cutting off the rest of that sentence. All this time being chased by Zuko—all this time being friends with him—and he’d always assumed that the scar was the result of a training accident, or a fight with a firebender he lost. Sokka thinks bitterly and viciously that the second assumption wasn’t far off but his own father—

“I was banished after that,” Zuko says, and his voice is hollow and empty and wrong. And he finally, finally, meets Sokka’s gaze. “I was told to bring the Avatar back and all would be forgiven, or to not come back at all. That was before you and your sister woke Aang up from the iceberg.”

Sokka stands very, very still. He glances down and realizes his hands are trembling. He curls the non-bandaged one into a fist to get the shaking to stop. “How old were you?” he asks, and he doesn’t know why—of everything he could say—that’s the question that tumbles past his lips, but he feels like it matters.

“Thirteen.”

“Thir—” Sokka cuts himself off, scrubbing a hand across his mouth and swallowing hard. “Thirteen. Tui and La, when I was thirteen—”

Sokka breaks off again, his throat closing, his gaze falling to his father. When Sokka was thirteen, his father had left to go fight in the war and told Sokka he couldn’t come along. He’d protected Sokka, and though Sokka had found his way into fighting in the war regardless a few years later, he knows his father had only been trying to keep him safe. The idea of his own father striking him—let alone with a fist full of flames to his face—was incomprehensible.

Hakoda doesn’t look back at Sokka. His gaze is trained on Zuko, and there’s something in his eyes that Sokka doesn’t quite understand. But he’s seen it before. It was the same look Hakoda wears when he hears other water tribe soldiers recount war stories. The late-night ones. The ones where their voices betray the weight on their shoulders and tremble with the generations of nightmares on their backs.

Sokka takes a sudden, faltering step forward, and Zuko instinctively tenses. Sokka freezes. “Zuko…”

Zuko shakes his head. He coughs a little, as if trying to clear his throat. “Anyway. That’s—that’s what the admiral was talking about.”

“You…” Sokka tries again, his voice carrying just the barest hints of hysteria. “You were his kid.”

“Yeah, well.” Zuko’s gaze meets Sokka’s again. “He spent most of my life wishing I wasn’t.”

“Zuko,” Hakoda speaks up, his voice a low, soothing rumble to Sokka’s trembling nerves. “I… hope you understand that you didn’t deserve that.”

“I know, sir,” he replies, sounding steadier than Sokka feels. Sokka feels a little like the ground has shifted beneath his feet as he stares at his friend across the room. Zuko continues, frustratingly calm. “It… I didn’t at first. It took me a long time to understand that it was wrong of my father to do that. But I know now.”

“Where is he?” Sokka demands, flushing with a sudden and intense fury.

Zuko blinks, looking taken aback by the vehemence charged through Sokka’s voice like a steel rod. “Where’s who?”

“Ozai.”

“Sokka, what are you gonna do? Fight him? He already lost.”

“Against Aang, not against—did Aang even know?”

Zuko’s brow furrows and he rubs the back of his neck. “Um. I guess I don’t know. I never told him. I… never told any of you.”

“Yeah—and what’s that about, huh?” Sokka demands. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Sokka,” Hakoda warns, but Sokka’s words are already bubbling up throat and spilling past his lips, hot and bitter and angry.

“What, did you think we wouldn’t care? That it wouldn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Zuko waves a hand towards the window that overlooks the courtyard. “My father already lost to the Avatar, Sokka. The war is over. The fighting is over. Aang took his bending. And that—I don’t know about you, but that’s the best, most justified end to his legacy I can think of.”

Sokka is still shaking. He can’t explain why. He knows, logically, that Zuko is right. He’s right. But Sokka can still feel his hands shaking, can still feel his heart hammering in his ribs with the urge to run something through with sword, can still feel the way his eyes sting with tears he won’t let fall. Sokka clenches his jaw and rips his gaze away from Zuko out towards the window, where he can see the sun setting on the horizon and painting the palace courtyard in an orange light.

“Wherever he is, I hope he rots,” Sokka says finally, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough. “He deserves worse.”

Sokka looks back at Zuko, whose gaze is a little wide. He looks… taken aback. Sokka cocks an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you disagree—"

“No,” Zuko replies, shaking his head. “I just… Nothing.” The corner of his mouth tugs upwards in the barest hint of a smile. Sokka doesn’t understand why, just like he doesn’t understand why it uncoils the tight knot of burning anger in his chest.

Sokka takes a deep breath. Wills himself to relax. It helps… a little. There’s a beat, and then Sokka hears his father take a step forward. “Thank you for helping Sokka’s hand, Firelord Zuko.”

Zuko blinks, and Sokka swears his cheeks take a faint pink tint as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh. Uh, of course, sir. And… just Zuko is fine.”

Sokka glances over and sees Hakoda smile, inclining his head. “Understood.” He looks to Sokka. “I should draft a letter to Bato tonight to update him on the treaty. Will you be okay without me?”

Sokka rolls his eyes teasingly. “Yeah, dad. I think I can manage.”

Hakoda squeezes his shoulder, nods to Zuko again, and quietly slips out of the room. The silence afterward seems to stretch, and Sokka feels the lingering tension bleeding out of him as he looks at Zuko, who quietly shuffles through the papers on his desk. Sokka watches him for a beat, his gaze lingering a little on the scarred tissue across his face. Sokka swallows.

There are other questions Sokka thinks he could ask. Like why—after doing that—Zuko was still so bent on returning home to his father. But there’s a part of Sokka that thinks he maybe understands.

Spirits know that he understood what it was like to crave the approval of your father.

“Hey,” he says, and Zuko’s gaze snaps over to him. “I… thank you for telling me. I… know that wasn’t easy, and… it means a lot that you trust me with that.”

“It… it wasn’t a question of trust, you know,” Zuko replies quietly, averting his gaze. “Not telling you, I mean. It was just—”

“I know,” Sokka says, and means it. “But I also know what it’s like to have things you don’t necessarily… want to relive. So it means a lot that you told me.”

The corner of Zuko’s mouth twitches again. He takes a deep, slow breath. “Thank you for listening,” he says.

“I like to think I’m a pretty good listener,” Sokka teases, shrugging.

“You are,” Zuko says, with far more sincerity than Sokka felt was warranted for what he’d meant to be a joke. Sokka blinks at him, and Zuko clears his throat, ducking his head a little. “I was thinking of getting some tea. There’s a place just outside the palace. It’s not as good as Uncle’s, but um. Did you want to come?”

“Yeah,” Sokka replies with a small smile. “I could use a cup of tea.”  

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 11 of 27: Desperation

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 10 CHOOSE ME INSTEAD - MASTERLIST

A/N: Dumblr had some issues with the tagging system and a lot of people didn’t get tagged for some reason. I hope it works today though! Once again: THANK YOU FOR ALL THE AMAZING SUPPORT! OMFG I LOVE YOU ALL TO DEATH! Seriously, ilysm! I’m so happy you like my story <33 Also have fun with some ANGST ^^

Words: 5.8k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, post war Warnings: blood, description of wounds, mentions of suicide, panic attacks, anxiety, a lot of angst my loves

“Draco?”

It was nothing more than a whisper. You stood frozen in place, staring at the bathroom door. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you were scared it would jump out any second now. Every breath that left your lungs trembled, showing the panic you tried to swallow down so badly. It was an eerie feeling – standing here in their empty room. The water of the Black Lake illuminated the room in a soft green light. You blinked and wondered if the shadow behind the glass had been just a figment of your imagination.

You cleared your throat. “Draco?”

Five large steps and you crossed the room. “Draco, it’s me,” you tried to sound as calm and collected as you possibly could and you were glad he couldn’t see the way, you started to pick at your thumb. It would start to bleed soon, you were sure. You turned the doorknob but Zabini and Nott had been right. Draco had locked himself in.

There was no response from inside. He had gone silent. When you pressed the air against the wooden door, you could still hear suppressed whimpers. Your heart began to race again. Something was wrong, so very wrong.

„Draco, let me in, please,” you said a little louder and a little more panicked. “I can help you, just let me in!”

“No!”

You flinched at his sudden reaction.

“No, y-you can’t … you can’t h-help m-me.” The way his voice broke at the end of the sentence made it feel like he stabbed you with sharp knife. You swallowed, fighting the tears that began to dwell up. He needed your help now. You needed to be strong for him now, there was no point in him seeing you cry. This wasn’t about you.

“I’m coming in,” you announced and pulled out your wand. He made weak sounds of protest but you ignored them. Three deep breaths, you thought to yourself. Then I’m going in.

One … Two … Three.

“Alohomora.” There was a click and door slowly opened, accompanied by a high-pitched creaking noise.

You gasped when you took in the scene that unfolded in front of you. The bathroom was a mess. It looked a potions experiment gone wrong. Containers filled with liquids and other ingredients were scattered all over the wet floor. Pieces of broken glass filled the sink and a pungent smell that burned in your lungs hit you when you stepped in.

Draco Malfoy, the sarcastic Slytherin who never shied away from a confrontation and always had a witty comeback ready, sat on the floor and looked like a picture of misery. He leaned against the tub, legs stretched out and his left wrist pressed tightly against his chest. His white shirt was wet with water and …

You shrieked and put a hand over your mouth when you realized that it was blood that gave his shirt a light red color, running down his wrist and dropping from his elbow onto the dark tiles. Draco lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since you walked in. His face was red, his eyes swollen and puffy from crying. His body was still shaking, trembling sobs he desperately tried to suppress were echoing through the small room.

It was the look in his eyes that made you drop to the floor on your knees. So full of pain and heartbreak. A sadness he shouldn’t be able to feel at his young age that made you lose the ground below your feet. “Oh god, Draco, oh god,” you whispered. You reached for the wrist he was still pressing up against his chest. “What did you do? Oh god, oh –”

Tears began to stream down his face again and sobs shook his body. He mumbled something you couldn’t understand but tried to turn and get away from your touch. Your heart was beating in your throat now and you quickly examined the situation. There wasn’t much blood so you guessed he didn’t … you couldn’t even finish that sentence in your head. Nonetheless, you reached for a towel behind you.

“Let me see, please,” your voice was heavy with worry and fear. “I want to help you. I need to see what happened.”

“No,” he croaked, staring at the ground. “No, p-please leave, Y/N…”

You shook your head vehemently. “No, I won’t go. I won’t leave you here, you’re obviously hurt and –”

“I don’t … I don’t w-want you to s-see me like this,” he spoke so softly, you could barely understand him. “So … so w-weak …”

A single tear ran down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away before he could see it. Then you reached for his face with your right hand. “Draco, you’re not weak,” you could feel him leaning into your touch, “but you have to let me help you now!”

His breathing was ragged. Draco didn’t reply.

“There is no shame in asking for help. Let me be there you,” you urged him, putting your other hand on his wrist. There was no force in your gesture; you simply let it rest there.

It felt like an eternity. You kneeled on the floor, water soaking through the thin fabric of your uniform. You’d probably start to feel cold if there wasn’t so much adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“I wanted to make it go away.”

It was more of a whimper than anything else. A simple sentence that beared so much pain. However, you didn’t know what it meant.

“What?”, you tilted your head in confusion.

“It“, he spat out. You moved in a little closer. “I can’t stand to look at it anymore. I am so … I am so disgusting … I …”, he sniffled. “I don’t want to see it anymore … it’s always there … I tried everything …”

In this moment, the scales fell from your eyes. Your gaze dropped down to his arm underneath your hand – his left arm. You had never seen him without long sleeves that covered both his arms. Up to now, there had never been a reason for it. It was winter by now and always a little chilly in the castle. Now you realized that there was a second reason why he wouldn’t show the skin of precisely this arm.

„Draco…” You didn’t know what you were going to say. What was there to say? What could you possibly do to ease his suffering?

„I just wanted it to go away …”, he continued, staring on the black tiles. “When Pansy …”

Your eyes widened at the confession. Parkinson messed up her potion this morning and Slughorn explained what it would do to the human skin. You remembered how his voice sounded when he asked what Pansy did wrong.

Oh no.

“You …?”

His head snapped towards you at your unspoken accusation and he looked at you with a clenched jaw.

“Oh Merlin,” you uttered in complete disbelief.

“Don’t pity me!”, he snapped. It reminded you of his old self. Scenes of him insulting Harry in the Great Hall flashed in front of your eyes.

“I don’t, Draco”, you tried to sound as comforting as you could. “I don‘t, believe me. But I see that you’re in pain. And you’re bleeding.” Tightening your grip on his wrist, you gave him a serious look.

His lips began to quiver again, his breathing becoming heavier.

“May I …?”, you asked. “I just want to stop the bleeding.”

Finally, he relaxed slightly and let you take his wrist. You grab it carefully, making sure not to hurt him, and turned it so you could see the damage.

His arm was decorated with a gaping wound, full of blisters and blood that oozed from them. It looked like a someone tried to scrape the skin off with a dull knife before putting it on a hot stove. Beneath it, a part of the Dark Mark was still untouched and visible; the black stood in sharp contrast with his pale skin and the sight of the skull made your blood freeze.

What happened next was something that you would scold yourself for the next days to come: you gagged and almost let go of his arm.

Draco felt it, of course he did, and another sob escaped him. He tried to pull his arm back but you tightened your grip, not allowing him do so. Apologies tumbled over your lips and you quickly grabbed the towel. Before you started to wrap it around the wound, you mumbled a few spells, trying to help him at least a little. Nothing worked. You had to bring him to Madame Pomfrey. He needed a professional healer not a student with mediocre magical capabilities. You made sure that the towel was wrapped his arm tightly to stop the bleeding. Draco flinched and drew breath through his teeth. More apologies from you followed, a stumbling mess. You were overwhelmed with the situation, nothing could have prepared you for this.

„It hurts so much …”, he croaked when you put his arm back in his initial position – pressed against his chest.

„I know, I’m sorry,” you said full of remorse. “We will bring you to Madame Pomfrey and she will give you something for the pain.”

He sighed and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant…”

You looked up at his words. “What do you mean, Draco?”

He needed a moment to answer. You didn’t push him, you just rested one hand on his thigh, stroking it softly. You weren’t sure if you did it to calm him or yourself.

“Everything,” he closed his eyes. “Being here. Getting up in the morning. Going to sleep in the evening.”

You let out a deep breath, not liking the direction this conversation was going. Not liking it all. „What?”, your voice only trembled a little.

„I keep thinking about it …”, his eyes were still closed. “It hardly ever leaves my mind …”

“About what?”, you wanted to know with a more pressing undertone now.

Draco finally opened his eyes. He looked so tired, so exhausted. „About what I did,” he finally explained. “What my parents did. About my life … I’m wrong…”

You furrowed your brows. “What makes you say that?”

He chuckled; it was a bitter, sad laugh. “Don’t play pretend, you know what I mean … You’re not wrong. You’re right. Everything about you is right. Everything about me is wrong. Everything I learned, everything I believed in …” He trailed off.

Oh. Now you understood what he tried to say. Something you had guessed all along, from the day you met. It explained his changes and his odd behavior. It was what draw you in at the beginning of the school year, fascinating you from afar. Seeing it unfolding in front of you was terrifying though.

You reached for his healthy hand and squeezed it softly. “You’re not wrong.”

A tear ran down his cheek. You suppressed the urge to wipe it away. “But I am, I –”

“No”, you interrupted him harshly. “You’re not wrong, Draco. Listen to me, please!” Putting a hand to his face, you forced him to look at you. “You were a child and you didn’t have a choice! The mistakes of your parents don’t define you.”

He smiled sadly. “Easy to say for someone with picture perfect parents.”

“My parents raised a Death Eater,” you scoffed. The sentence stung. You had never said it out loud. Yet it was the only thing that came to your mind in this moment. When you continued speaking, your voice grew softer: “Your parents raised a spoilt child, yes, but they didn’t raise a Death Eater. The past weeks with you … I saw you! Your efforts to change, to do better … it’s not too late. You recognized what went wrong and you want to learn and be a better man and Draco, that is worth so much.”

His body had begun to shake again, tears dwelling up in his puffy eyes. “I just want the pain to stop …”

“I know,” you sighed and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t resist. “I know, I’m so sorry, I wish I could –”

“Please make it stop,” he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hot breath against your skin as he sobbed quietly.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled and stroked over his back. “I wish I could but –”

Suddenly, something happened. You didn’t know how it happened, but it did. Draco sat back, freeing himself from the hug and then … he kissed you.

It was a rough kiss, full of despair and a passion only found in situations like these. He grabbed you by your neck, pulling you close. His lips were soft and tasted salty from his tears as he moved them against yours. There was nothing sweet about this – he wanted to forget, turn off the pain and drown out the fear by feeling you – by being close to you.

It took you a few seconds to realize what was going on. You placed your hands on his chest, breaking the kiss and pushing him away. “Draco, no …”, you stared at him in shock.

He reached out for you again, tears streaming down his face. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw his desperation. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, you can fix me…” He sobbed and leaned against you. Wrapping your arms around him, you wanted to scream. You didn’t know what to do, you weren’t prepared for this, you couldn’t help him.

“The only time I feel alive is when I’m with you, Y/N, the only time I feel like I’m alright is when I’m with you,” he muttered against the fabric of your uniform. “Please, fix me …”

You were crying now as well, completely overwhelmed. “No,”, you whispered, “No, I can’t fix you. I’m sorry, I can’t fix you …”

“Please …”

“I can be here for you, I will be here for you,” the panic didn’t leave your voice. “I can’t fix you, Draco, I don’t know how … I shouldn’t be…”

You weren’t sure for how long you sat in the bathroom with Draco. Minutes? Hours? All you knew in this moment was his trembling body against yours, his pleas for someone – for you – to help him and the fear in your system that made you stammer the same sentences over and over again.

Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder. Theodor Nott knelt beside you, saying something you didn’t understand. Then Zabini appeared behind him. He reached for Draco, pulling him up on his feet. Nott helped you, putting one arm around your waist. Together you made your way to the hospital wing.

 ***

It was early in the morning when Draco woke up.

Upon reaching the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey had ordered the boys to put Draco down in the nearest bed, attending to him right away. She whirled around, asking you all sorts of questions to which mostly Nott answered, before grabbing potions and weird smelling herbs and getting to work.

Nott got a chair for you to sit down next to Dracos bed. Then he and Zabini got sent out. When Madame Pomfrey was done treating his arm, she turned her attention towards you and handed you a funny looking liquid to drink.

“To calm your nerves, honey,” she had said and insisted that you finished it. It tasted disgusting. Yet, whatever it was, it seemed to help. You slowly began to feel better and at some point, you let the exhaustion take over and drifted off to sleep.

It wasn’t until Draco woke up that you did too. Something had startled you. Blinking and yawning, you sat back up in your chair. Your limbs and neck hurt from the uncomfortable position you had been in for the last few hours.

Looking at his bed, you saw Draco laying on his back, his eyes fixated on the ceiling, an empty expression on his face.

“Hey,” you whispered and leaned over to hold his hand. He didn’t react.

“How are you feeling?”, you asked, looking at the bandage around his arm.

Draco turned his head towards you. “Better, I guess,” his voice was still hoarse. “I don’t feel so …”

You chuckled. “Yeah, she gave me the same thing.”

A sad smile appeared on his lips. He looked at you for a while, an unreadable expression in his eyes. “I’m so … sorry,” he cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You shook your head. “Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Yes, I do,” he replied. “I was a mess and –”

“That’s okay,” you tried to comfort him. “Happens to the best of us.”

“Having breakdowns about being a Death Eater?”, he frowned.

You snorted. “Maybe that’s only a thing for former Death Eaters, I admit that.”

The corners of his lips twitched but he didn’t smile. “I’m sorry about the kiss though.”

A sigh escaped your lips at the memory. Yeah. That happened. You almost forgot. „It’s fine. Pain leads us to do stupid things.“

“You’re not mad?“, he asked.

Again, you shook your head. “Of course not.”

Relieved, Draco let out a deep breath and turned his head to look back up at the ceiling. “We probably pretended for too long, I have to remind myself that we’re not actually dating.”

The confession took you by surprise. You frowned as you looked at him. He didn’t say anything else though and so you stayed there together in silence, holding hands. Outside, the sun started to rise, golden rays of sunlight flowing into the dark room. Classes would probably start soon. You were still wearing your Quidditch uniform and you crinkled your nose in disgust at the realization. You desperately needed a shower and a new set of clothes.

After a while, his eyelids began to flutter. With a smile, you watched Draco fall asleep.

You made sure Draco was actually sleeping before you let go of his hand and got up. Your whole body felt stiff and you cracked your neck. Then you walked over to Madame Pomfreys office. There was something that still needed to be done.

“Good morning,” the healer greeted you with a warm smile when you stepped inside. “How are you feeling, dear?”

“Better,” you replied. “Tired mostly.”

“That’s good,” she said. “I imagine it was quite a shock for you last night. Make sure to take a nap after classes.”

“I will.”

She smiled again before turning her attention back towards the book on your table. You hesitated, not knowing how to address it. When Madame Pomfrey noticed you weren’t leaving, she looked at you with worry. “Is there something else, dear?”

You sighed and rubbed over your neck. “Yes, actually,” you paused briefly. “It’s about Draco.”

She closed the book and leaned back in her chair. “What about Mr. Malfoy? Does he need something?”

You nodded. “Yes. A therapist.“

Madame Pomfrey raised her eyebrows, her mouth forming a quiet “oh”. This was the first time in her career as a healer that someone asked for that.

“I know, it’s not really a thing in the Wizarding World,” you continued quickly, scared she would interrupt you and send you outside. “It’s more common with the muggles but I read about it and I think it’s a good thing.”

“You believe, Mr. Malfoy needs a therapist?”, she asked slowly and folded her hands on the table. “You believe, I can’t help him?”

“No, that’s not what I said,” you defended yourself. “I believe you’re excellent at what you do but some wounds … some wounds can’t be treated with potions and herbs, Madame Pomfrey.”

The healer thought for a while. For so long in fact, you began to start feeling increasingly nervous, shifting uncomfortably. It wasn’t the first time you thought about bringing it up with her. Draco wasn’t the only who suffered, after all. The thought began to grow when you saw how your mother started grow colder. When you had to wake Ginny up from yet another nightmare and when McGonagall shouted at you to leave after a student had a panic attack in the hallways. There was no help for them. And sleeping medicine could only get you so far. What happened to Draco last night was only the last straw for you.

Madame Pomfrey sighed. When she looked back up, she seemed to have aged rapidly. “It’s sad, really, that poor boy …,” her gaze trailed off to the hospital wings behind you. “All those students ...”

“I believe a lot of the students could benefit from a professional to help them deal with everything that happened,” you added, looking expectantly at her.

Finally, she nodded. “Alright, let me see what I can do.”

A feeling of relief overcame you. “Thank you, Madame Pomfrey! Thank you!”

 ***

On the way to the common room, you were met with a lot of confused looks from your classmates. What it must have looked like for then – you in a dirty, bloody Quidditch uniform at seven in the morning, tired and exhausted like you spent the night outside. You were sure that rumors would spread like wildfire once Draco didn’t turn up for classes and someone mentioned how they saw you this morning. It was nothing you cared about though. Not right now.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

The voice of Professor Slughorn made you turn around in the hallway. The old man walked towards you with a quick step. Judging by the expression on his face, he had already heard what happened to Draco.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he lowered his voice when he reached you and saw the curious looks of some students around.

“Good morning, Professor,” you greeted him with half a smile.

“I heard about what happened to Mr. Malfoy last night, I hope you are alright?”

You nodded at his question.

“Good, good,” he continued. “I didn’t want to bother him but I know you and Mr. Malfoy have become rather close during those past weeks.”

When you noticed that he waited for some sort of approval, you nodded again. You didn’t understand where he was going with this.

“Just let him know that … his actions have no further consequences. I believe what happened is punishment enough.”

The statement made you take a step back. You furrowed your brows, as you stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Oh,” Professor Slughorn cleared his throat. “He stole from my potions. But it will have no further consequences. I wanted to make that clear. Maybe you could tell him.”

“Right,” you scoffed. “Good for Draco.”

Slughorn looked at you for a moment as if he waited for you to thank him. You couldn’t believe him – his student, whose history he was well aware of, hurt himself in a mental breakdown and Slughorn expected you to be grateful for not punishing him for it? By Merlin, that’s why you needed a therapist in this damn school.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he then said. “Mr. Malfoy made some questionable choices in his past. He now needs to learn how to deal with it. He can’t hide behind his trauma forever and use it as an excuse for his behavior.”

You gritted your teeth. What was the punishment for punching a teacher in the face?

“Have a good day, Professor.”

 ***

Three Days later ...

Draco was released from the hospital wing on the same morning but was excused from school for the rest of the week. As you had suspected, rumors began to spread quickly.

“He tried to kill himself,” a student from Ravenclaw announced loudly during lunch at one point.

“I heard, he overdosed on some muggle drug,” a Hufflepuff said to his friends in the hallway. “You know how Slytherins are …”

“Maybe it was a fight between Y/L/N and Malfoy. He probably tried to hurt her or something, the whole relationship is doomed to fail. It’s Malfoy for Merlin’s sake …”

It was in this moment that you decided to hex everyone who had something to say about Draco.

Your friends peppered you with questions. Ginny was particularly curious about where you spent the night but you stayed silent, trying to appease her with vague explanations about an accident that sent Draco into the Hospital wing. Whether she believed it or not – she stopped asking after a while. It was really none of her business, you felt. Draco wouldn’t want her to know. It was bad enough that Zabini and Nott knew. From what you could tell, they kept quiet though.

You didn’t see Draco for three days after you left the hospital wing that morning. After classes when you wanted to visit him, he was already gone. He didn’t show up to meals. But you noticed how Astoria always took a full plate of food with her. It bothered you. It left an ugly feeling behind whenever you saw her leaving the table like that. She shouldn’t be the one taking care of him. She hadn’t been there. You had. In fact, you were his girlfriend …

Fake girlfriend, you corrected yourself.

At night, you barely got any sleep. You stared at the ceiling in the darkness for hours, thinking about that evening in the Slytherin bathroom. Feelings of worry alternated with the frustration that he put you in the situation. But were you really frustrated with him? Or were you upset at yourself, at how much it shook you to the core?

Why?, you kept asking yourself. Why do I care so much? How did I end up here?

He was a friend, a dear friend, and you’d do anything for your friends. A lot of them had gone through hard times as well and you were always there for them. But this? It felt different. Not once, even when they were at their lowest, did you feel this scared. So helpless and angry at yourself that you couldn’t do anything.

Fix me.

The words had stayed with you. Together with the pain when they were spoken. You couldn’t. The only thing you could do was be there for him when he fixed himself – and shockingly, you wanted to do exactly that. In fact, you wanted to do more than that. You wanted to be the one that brings him his food when he’s feeling too weak to go to meals and you wanted to hug him and tell him over and over again that nothing about him was wrong. That he could change and he could get through this. He was strong enough. You knew it.

Is this what friendship is supposed to feel like?

 ***

You sat in the Room of Requirements when he walked in.

It was the same room you had been in two weeks ago when you looked for Christmas presents. A small fire crackled in the fireplace and you sat on the couch with a warm blanket and your favorite book.

“Hi,” Draco said simply.

Surprised, you looked up from your book. You hadn’t expected him to come here. “How did you find me?”, you asked.

Draco gave a half shrug. “You weren’t in the library and your friends said, you wanted to be alone for a while. So I figured.”

He looked a lot better than three days ago. He wore his usual black suit again and his hair was flawless. Not a single strand was out of place. But the exhaustion was still visible on him and his posture seemed a little too stiff as stood in the doorway.

“Who did you ask?”, you wanted to know. Scooting over, you gestured him to take a seat next to you.

“Granger.”

A low chuckle escaped your lips.

“And yes,” he continued as he sat down. “It was just as awkward as you imagine it right now.”

You snorted. “Well, I appreciate the effort.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. You didn’t know what to say. Hey, remember when you had that panic attack and hid from me for three days? Yeah. Probably not. Besides, you couldn’t be mad that he wanted to be alone. You didn’t blame him for it. It was understandable and you weren’t entitled to his attention. However, it still hurt.

“I have to apologize again”, he began.

With a sigh, you put the book on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. “You already did that,” you said. “It’s okay.”

Draco rubbed over his neck. He didn’t apologize very often apparently, judging by his discomfort. “No, for … the past days.”

A smile appeared on your lips. “It’s fine. You had … people in your house who took care of you.”

Draco shot you a glance, knowing well what you were referring to. “I didn’t want her to.”

You immediately felt dumb and insensitive. Merlin, why would you say this to him. “Draco…no,” you groaned. “No, this wasn’t what I meant. I feel stupid, urgh.”

“I –”, he started but you cut him off.

“Do not apologize. You’re going through a hard time. Obviously,” you shook your head. Then your voice became a little softer: “I understand that and I just want you to become better. I can’t believe I somehow made that about me, I’m sorry.”

He smiled at you. “Don’t be. It’s confusing for all of us.”

You nodded and leaned back against the couch. A few days ago, you would’ve touched him in some little way. Now there was a distance between you. It made you wonder if what happened changed the dynamic between the two of you. “So, how are you?”, you broke the silence.

He shrugged again and looked into the fire. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. I was worried about you.”

“I’m supposed to see a therapist now.”

A rush of happiness made your eyes lit up at his sentence. “Yeah … that was my idea.”

“Really?”, he turned to and a small smirk played around the corners of his lips. You were so relieved to see it. “Well, sounds like you.”

You chuckled. “Did you already see them?”

He shook his head. “Tomorrow. It wasn’t easy to find one. It’s not that common in our world.”

Even though he was right, you were surprised by how fast McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey started looking for one. Maybe they finally realized how important it was for the students to actually deal with their traumas and not just take sleeping potions.

“Well, I’m glad,” you announced.

“Let’s see how it goes. Father used to make fun of them a lot,” his eyes flickered to fire again and his voice changed as he remembered. “He said it was one of the reasons why the muggles are so weak. They can’t even deal with their own life.”

What a load of bullshit, you thought and wondered if his mother shared those opinions. She must have. How else would a woman survive a marriage with a man like that. You stayed silent though.

Draco looked at you again. “Thank you.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “For what?”

“Being there,” he explained. “You didn’t have to.”

“I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?”, you joked.

“I mean …  not really though,” he smirked again. There it was – that little stinging near your heart. You ignored it.

“True,” you replied. “Still, you’re my friend.”

Draco nodded. He leaned back against the sofa and by the way he stretched out his leg, you could tell he was starting to feel more relaxed now. “What I said to you … what I want you to do …”, he cleared his throat while fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. “I overreacted. I … don’t expect you to …”

He had trailed off but you knew what he was trying to say. “I’m happy to hear that,” you admitted softly. Then you reached for his hand. “I will be here and support you for as long as you let me, Draco. Please know that.”

Draco looked at your entangled hands and then back at you. “Thank you.” His eyes met yours and for some reason, you couldn’t look away. You were mesmerized by them and they reminded you of a storm in the middle of November while …

“Well,” you loudly announced and broke the eye contact. “It’s getting too fluffy in here.”

Draco laughed softly. It was a low sound that resonated within you.

“Can I see it?”, you suddenly asked before you could think about it.

He furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“The wound,” you pointed at his arm. “Or is it still bandaged?”

“No, but … she managed to heal it,” he nervously licked over his lips. “There are no … residues.”

“What about the mark?” It was probably too straightforward. But you didn’t care as you had already seen it once now in a worse situation.

“Still there,” his gaze lingered on his arm as if he saw right through the black jacket. “Didn’t work, I suppose.”

“Can I see it?”

Draco’s head snapped in your direction. “Y/N …”

You just looked at him calmly. His eyes darted back and forth between his arm and you and you practically saw how he thought about all the options he had right now. Did he trust you enough for this? If not, why didn’t he after he allowed you to see him in his most vulnerable moment?

With a sigh, he suddenly got up and out of his jacket. He threw it on the armchair, before he began to roll up his sleeve and sat back down, holding the arm your direction. You leaned forward.

There it was. A huge, black memory of a life that was no longer his. The constant reminder of the pain and suffering that followed the Mark wherever it was seen. It stood in sharp contrast to his skin, just as you remembered. Now, however, you were able to see the whole thing. The wound was almost completely gone, only a little redness remained. You wondered how it must have felt when they burned it on his skin.

Without thinking about it, you raised a hand and touched it. Draco shuddered and his arm twitched. You looked up at him, wondering if it hurt. It didn’t seem that way. At least not physically. His eyes were fixated on the pillow and you noticed the way he clenched his jaw. Turning your attention back on the mark, you began to trace the outlines of it with your finger.

„I always thought it would feel … different,” you mumbled. Then you looked up at him again. You saw how he tried to blink away tears and once again, your heart broke. “We’ll be okay, Draco.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

***

A/N: Thank you for reading! <3 What do you think about it? I’d love to hear your thoughts on this chapter, my loves <33

CHAPTER 12

Choose Me Instead Masterlist HP Masterlist

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[thezebrawlw]

Donna Beneviento x Maiden.

I'M A BIT ANGRY 'CUZ WHEN I FINISHED, MY COMPUTER DID SOMETHING WEIRD AND RESTARTED AND WHEN I LOGGED IN AGAIN EVERYTHING WAS ERASED AND AAAAAAAALSKDFGKJDFKA

Warning: Mild suicidal content // Mentions of sexual abuse.

(A/N): (I'm still studying English, so if I have a mistake, I apologize)

Summary: A maiden arrives at the Beneviento mansion. What will happen when Donna begins to live with her?

(I'll do a part two, because I don't want this to be too long.)

- - -

The day the maiden arrived at the Beneviento mansion, it was raining. The door opened effortlessly. Not even the toxic pollen from the plants would drive someone crazy enough to come close to the house, so there was no need to have locks.

A chorus of high-pitched voices scared the young woman "what are you doing here" "how did you get in?" "You shouldn't be here" "Let's play with her, let's play with her"

The young woman felt scratches on her arms and on her legs, someone bit her arm and pulled her hair hard enough to almost rip it out.

"Please, I just want to hide," the woman yelled.

"You shouldn't have come in, stupid girl" "Now you belong to us"

Suddenly the dolls fell to the ground and crawled back to their places.

The young woman saw a shadow materialize in front of her. It was a slim figure, covered entirely in black, opaque cloth. The figure was carrying a doll in wedding clothes in their arms. It was from that doll that a hollow voice came out.

"You shouldn't have come in, stupid girl. Now you're never going to be able to come out."

"I don't care," said the maiden, "if you want to kill me, just kill me. I'd rather perish under the hand of a noblewoman than die from those hunters."

"You're not worth Donna's time" the doll spoke again.

"If you don't want to murder me, then let me serve you" implored the maiden "your house will always be clean, the fire will always be lit, there will be no dust shavings on your beautiful dolls, just please, let me stay here, Lady Beneviento"

Donna didn't move. Beneath her veil she had an arched brow, confused by her request. The pollen must have made her hallucinate enough to make her say those things.

"Change those old rags that you have as clothes and find something to clean", say the doll.

"Yes My Lady"

"The name’s Angie and the only Lady here is Donna. Got it, muddy face?"

"Yes, Miss Angie"

From that day on, the young woman became the servant of Lady Beneviento.

Working there would be easy if it weren't for the mischief the dolls played on her. If she swept, the dolls would run around the little mountain of dust. When the floor was freshly waxed, the dolls dragged their knives on the wood. At night, the dolls would not stop laughing or making sounds of babies crying. They also watched her sleep, sometimes sitting around her bed.

But the maid never complained, she just looked at the mess they made with a tired smile, as if she was watching little children do mischief. Even if they watched her sleep, the only thing she could hope for was to be killed, but that never happened.

During the first weeks Donna tried to induce the maiden some hallucinations, but it seemed not to work, she assumed that her new servant had some kind of immunity to cadou and by extension to the pollen of the flowers that grew around the mansion.

Donna watched her and evaded her in equal moments. The leader of the Beneviento was locked in her room or her workshop for most of the day, so te only way to keep an eye on the maiden was through her dolls.

It was for that reason that the maiden always walked with a small retinue of dolls behind her, like a mother duck with her chicks. She was used to it by now.

That's how Donna realised that the maid was a very good singer, but a distracted cook. She was thankful that she didn't need to eat, just a drink now and then, because she didn't think she would be able to eat coal with sugar in it.

She also noticed that the maid was an active conversationalist. She talked a lot and about everything. The dolls listened to her and little by little they began to join in the monologue.

The young girl listened attentively and that was how she learned the dolls's names, where they were located in the mansion and what they liked to play with.

Watching her, Donna also noticed that the maiden looked out the windows, a melancholic smile kept on her face when it snowed or when the sun made an appearance.

One particularly snowy day, the dolls pulled the maid to the front door, asking her to come out and play for a while.

"I don't know, I don't think Lady Beneviento will give me permission"

"It will only be a while, it will only be a while", said the dolls.

The maid had never asked Donna for anything since she arrived. Donna hadn't spoken to her either, if she needed something, Angie would be the one to speak in her place.

Then, a dark figure appeared on the stairs. It was Donna accompanied by Angie. The doll spoke for her.

"You can come out"

"I... Am I allowed, My lady?"

Donna nodded. Angie spoke.

"If you promise to stay in the garden"

"Yes, yes, thank you very much, My lady, Miss Angie"

Donna allowed Angie to join the others and then went to her room. From her bedroom window, she watched her servant and her dolls play in the snow. The young woman made small snowballs and distributed them to those who only asked one, becoming the person in charge of making ammunition for the doll's games.

Angie began to converse with the young woman. Thanks to her connection, Donna could hear her.

"Why did you come to Beneviento mansion, mudy face?"

"They were chasing me"

"Who?"

"Hunters. They know that my mother was a witch and that her blood runs through my veins. They are afraid that I'll curse people."

"Would you do it?"

The maiden laughed, a wicked, sing-song laugh.

"I already did it" under her clothes, she showed an exquisite necklace made with rose petals. "The petals of this rose are tongues of the people who tried to abuse me."

In her room, Donna froze. This young woman could be dangerous if offended enough. Would her witchy nature be of any benefit to Mother Miranda? She decided to keep her longer and also to ask the dolls to stop their pranks.

One night, the maiden slept peacefully, too peacefully, so peacefully that she awoke in the middle of the night. It was not normal to sleep like this as the dolls were still making noises. When she lit her room with a candle, she realised that she was alone.

She went out into the hallway and heard sobbing and banging upstairs. She ran to Donna's room and found the dolls by the door.

"My lady?"

Angie's voice answered.

"Go away."

"Do you need anything?"

"Go away."

"I can get you something to drink if you--"

"GET OUT!"

Then a group of dolls armed with knives followed the young woman to her room. She locked herself in and felt lucky to be alone.

Donna's anxiety attack ended around three in the morning, so it was to be expected that she would wake up after midday. She also knew that her attack had caused some dolls to break, so she grabbed Angie and left her room.

She noticed that there was no one in the corridor. Donna looked for her dolls and found them in their respective places, they were broken, but there wasn't a speck of dust on their bodies.

Donna asked if they had returned on their own, but the dolls replied that it was all thanks to the maid. Donna busied herself with her dolls upstairs and when she came down to the living room, she found the maid carefully cleaning the face of one of her dolls.

"You are ready, I will now place you on the table so that... ¡My lady!"

Donna smiled under her veil.

"What are you doing?" Angie, as always, spoke instead.

"I figured you wouldn't be feeling well, so I decided to accommodate the dolls instead. Is... it okay?"

Again, Donna did not answer. Instead, she turned her attention to repairing the broken arms and legs of the dolls, apologising quietly to each one for hurting them.

The maid continued her work on the cleaning and that was the first time the two had been in a room together for more than two minutes.

In the night, some of the dolls still in need of repair talked to Donna, all of them telling her about the maid and how pleasant her company was. They told her that the young woman was a good listener and that although they could not feel warmth, they were sure that her touch was warm because she was almost always in the kitchen.

The dolls also tell Donna that the young woman (they all referred to her as "mudface" thanks to Angie), was very good at playing hide and seek and sometimes helped play tricks on other dolls.

Donna realised how fond they had become of the young lady, so she decided to thank her in her own way.

In the morning, the maid found a small box wrapped in a ribbon. Inside was a pair of woollen gloves to protect her from the cold and a note in elegant handwriting that said "thank you".

Donna looked out of the window at the maid. She was hiding behind a fountain so that Angie would not find her. The day was snowy and somewhat cold, but it was no problem for the maid because her hands and neck were protected by gloves and a scarf.

Both items were Donna's creation. The leader of the Beneviento continued to make small gifts for the maid as a way of saying thank you for the care she took of her dolls.

When the game was over, and thankfully spring was in the air, Angie and the young lady sat down to enjoy the sunshine and make a couple of wreaths.

She finished making one for Angie and placed it on her head, then made a larger one and told her to give it to Donna.

She looked up and found Donna watching her, the maid smiled and waved, though Donna remained still.

The gift was well received by Donna and in gratitude she knitted another pair of gloves.

The end of winter was all about giving small gifts. It was no longer about gratitude, the two women liked to see each other wear or use the gifts they each made.

A flower necklace dipped in amber, a hood for the cold, a jar of biscuits, a flavouring made from pleasant-smelling herbs...

Donna left her room more often, sharing space with the maid. The evenings were quiet, but not uncomfortable. She still didn't speak directly to the young woman, so Angie always had to step in to make small talk.

The young woman, despite her nature, tried to speak little so as not to make her mistress uncomfortable, for which Donna was grateful.

On one occasion they were both in the library, each reading her own book. They were not sitting close together, but within sight of each other. They were silent, until Donna let out a little giggle. The maid couldn't help but glance in her direction, eyebrows arched and a half smile on her face. She had never heard Donna laugh before.

"Are you having a pleasant reading, my lady?"

Beneath her veil, Donna stood still. Angie was playing somewhere and couldn't answer to explain the reason for her laughter, so she just nodded.

From that day on, the maid tried to make Donna laugh more often. Sometimes just making funny comments or other times telling jokes to the dolls, making sure Donna was close enough to listen.

Donna laughed more often and was in a better mood. You could see it in the way she walked and in the new dolls she created. Even in the laughter that could be heard from her room when she was talking to Angie.

But one day, her progress in confidence slipped back.

This is the end of part one.

Part two is here

[sleepysnk]

I'm so excited the Request are Open againnnnn

May I request a Levi x Fem! Reader one shot, were some cadets ask the reader to go on a date with him in the Mess Hall where everyone heard it, but Reader immediately said she's already dating someone. Which shock them even more since she wasn't that open when it comes to her personal life and Levi was heartbroken hearing that Reader already had someone. Until one day, he cornered Reader asking her who was the guy and it turns out she doesn't have one, it was just an excuse for cadets to stop asking her and Levi confessing his love for her and wanting it to be him.

That's all thank youuuu

oh. my. god. THIS IS SO GOOD OMG. i find this request very creative! i definitely had a lot of fun writing this one! i really hope you enjoy this! ♡.

Levi x Fem!Reader: Who is It?

Warnings: None

It was no doubt that (Y/N) was quite the attractive woman. From when she first started as a scout, most men basically 'claimed' her in a way. Not in a creepy way, but most just wanted one night with her, even if it was something small.

She gained the attraction from someone she'd never expect either. Captain Levi. Levi was never one to show his emotions, especially towards love, but (Y/N) was someone that he just couldn't get his mind over. She sort of got into his head, and he let her just fill his mind up.

He'd never show it though. He felt like she would become uncomfortable, and he didn't want to force this burden onto her. Levi had liked her for so long though. Probably about 6 months? Nothing has changed. Although, he has wanted to break a few skulls, because the men would always gossip about her. It made him feel grossed out.

Now, (Y/N) was never one to share her personal life. In a way, she was more of a reserved person, she liked to keep her business out of the way of others. Levi admired that sometimes, he liked that she wasn't making her shit known to everyone.

That's until one day in the Mess Hall, something happened that snapped in her. She was eating with her friends when a few guys showed up to her table. This was odd to Levi, none of them had the balls to ever approach (Y/N).

"Hey (Y/N), I got a question" one of them said and smirked at her.

Levi looked over at the table. "Yeah what's up?" she asked and nodded.

"Will you please go on a date with me? I really want to take you out" he asked and looked at her.

Everyone in the Mess Hall sort of stared at the table. (Y/N) was quiet, she sort of just stared at the guy.

What was she going to say? Levi's mind was racing at the moment.

"I'm sorry, but I have a boyfriend" she replied and looked at the guy.

The guy in front of her had a blush on his cheeks. "What? You do? I've never seen you with a guy" he said and blinked.

She sighed. "I just rather keep the relationship private" she said and shrugged.

Levi felt as if his heart was crushed. She had a boyfriend? I mean yeah (Y/N) kept her life private, but he never knew having a boyfriend was one of those things. It did make some sense though.

"Levi? Are you alright?" Erwin asked and broke him out of his thoughts.

He looked towards him. "Yeah.. I'm fine, I'll see you later" he said and stood up leaving the table.

Hanji and Erwin found this odd. "Jeez, his mood changed quick" Hanji said and looked at Erwin.

He shrugged. "Maybe he is just tired" he replied and continued eating.

Levi wasn't okay at all. All that time he spent thinking about (Y/N) was all a waste. He hadn't felt this way ever. Was this heartbreak or something? He had strong feelings for her for a long time, so it is understandable why he was feeling the way he did.

(Y/N) on the other hand, was a bit nervous. Everyone in the Mess Hall heard her announce that she had a boyfriend, and people began to question her on who it was.

Throughout the night, Levi was trying to think about who it could be. Eren? No, it can't be. Eren is more focused on titans than loving somebody. Maybe Jean or Armin? Jean could be a suspect, but Armin is ruled out. The boy wouldn't want to date.

Levi was at a loss on who it could be. Maybe it was someone he never really knew. He wanted to know, but then again he didn't want to force anything out of her. He was just curious, he wanted to see who she picked out of all men.

What was he going to do?

As days went by, he only felt worse. He tried his best to push away his feelings, but whenever he saw (Y/N) he felt his heart begin to beat quicker. The idea of her being with someone else made his stomach sour.

He decided to ask her who it was. She had to help him clean today, so it would be the opportunity.

He was broken out of his thoughts when there was a knock at the door. "Come in" he said and looked up.

Levi watched as (Y/N) entered his office. "Good morning Captain" she said and saluted to him.

He nodded. "Good morning (Y/N)" he replied and stood up.

She looked around his office. "So what needs to be cleaned today?" she asked.

Levi looked towards her. "We just need to clean the bookshelves" he replied and tossed her a rag.

(Y/N) noticed Levi seemed to be different. He looked more tired, she knew about his insomnia, but he had darker bags under his eyes. He also seemed to be in a more bad mood that usual, which confused her.

"Why are you just standing there? Get to it brat" he said and began to walk over to his bookshelf.

She blinked and went over to it as well. "Sorry Captain" she replied and began to remove the books.

Levi tried his best to not stare at her, but she was so beautiful to him. Any man who got to have (Y/N) was lucky in his eyes. He also thought about who it could be, he planned to ask.

Some time had went by and it was too quiet. Levi needed to say something before he snapped. "So... (Y/N), what I heard in the Mess Hall was someone asked you on a date" Levi said and looked towards her.

She looked over and nodded. "Oh yeah, I turned him down though, I have a boyfriend" she replied and looked back at the shelf.

She wanted to avoid this as much as possible. "Ah I see... may I ask who?" he asked.

What should she say? (Y/N) began to feel her heart race right now. "Oh, um it's private, I rather not say" she replied and continued cleaning.

Levi wasn't satisfied with that answer. "I see... is he well known?" he asked.

She stayed quiet this time. "May I use the bathroom sir?" she asked and looked at him.

He nodded. "Yeah... it's in my room, you should see it" he replied and watched as she went into his room.

Why was she avoiding the question? He understands if she wanted it private, but to be that secretive? Jeez.

The only way Levi could get it out of her, is if he cornered her somehow. Not in a creepy way, but it would be the only way she would tell him anything. He made his way to his room, and shut the door. He saw that the bathroom door was shut.

Levi watched as it opened revealing (Y/N). "What are you doing here?" she asked and nodded.

"(Y/N), who is your boyfriend?" he asked and crossed his arms.

She rolled her eyes. "Captain, it isn't your business. I'm not sure why you care so much, I rather keep him out of this" she replied and tried to walk past him.

Levi stood in front of his bedroom door. "You're not leaving until you say who" he said and leaned against the door.

(Y/N) was starting to get antsy. Why did Levi want to know so bad?

"Why do you wanna know? You shouldn't be worried about me" she asked.

He looked at her. "I'm just curious. You can trust me (Y/N)" Levi replied and shrugged.

Should she just tell the truth? She was battling herself on the inside.

"Ugh, Levi I need to tell you something" she said and looked down.

He furrowed his brows. "What is it? Don't tell me it's Jaeger or something" he said.

She sighed. "I don't actually have a boyfriend. I lied so the cadet's would stop asking me out on dates" she replied and looked at him.

Levi was shocked. He actually couldn't believe what she said. He sort of understood why she did it though, sometimes you have to do certain things to get out of the situation.

"Makes sense, I could see why you lied. Those men make me disgusted sometimes" Levi said and looked at her.

(Y/N) nodded. "I was just looking for a way out of that attention" she said and crossed her arms.

Levi felt his heart beginning to race. Should he tell (Y/N) how he was feeling? He rather tell her now than another man getting her.

"I need to reveal something to you as well (Y/N)" he said and walked towards her.

She looked at him. "What is it?" (Y/N) asked and nodded.

Levi looked down at her. "(Y/N)... the only reason why I wanted to know who you were dating, is because I truly have feelings for you. I've admired you for so long, and when you told those cadets you had a boyfriend, it made me so curious on who" he explained.

She couldn't believe her ears! Levi out of all people had a crush on her?

"I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I wanted to be that guy. Your guy. I want to make you happy (Y/N)" he added.

(Y/N) looked up at Levi. "Levi... I don't know what to say" she said and smiled a bit.

He blinked a little fearing rejection. "You don't have to feel the same" he replied.

She giggled. "Levi! I would love for you to be my boyfriend. We could take it slow" she said.

He stood there shocked for a second. She didn't reject him? He was for sure she wouldn't have picked someone like him.

"R-Really? Are you sure (Y/N)?" Levi asked.

She smiled. "Yes Levi, I'm sure! We should discuss it more later" she replied.

He couldn't help but smile himself. "Well, if that's the case, meet me in my office later for tea" he said and looked down at her.

[emmanelson]

Chapter 3: Feelings and First Times

A little prequel that takes place during 2.01-2.02 when Devi is dating both Ben and Paxton. The first time they have sex, it isn’t in a friends-with-benefits relationship. It’s bordering on the brink of something real, something special, at least in Paxton’s retrospect.

tw: rated M for sexual content 

In the days that followed Devi deciding to date both Ben and Paxton, their relationship moved at a quicker pace than expected. Paxton meant what he said by wanting to make the time they still had together count, even if it would only be for a couple more weeks. So when Devi is invited to the Hall-Yoshida household that Friday night with the implicit instruction to stay over, she tells her mom she is sleeping over at Eleanor’s and is maybe even a little too eager to get there, the walk feels more like a sprint. They had tried taking the next step a few times, and then realized they wanted to live long enough to actually see each other, so doing it at the Vishwakumar residence was out of the question.

She isn’t expecting much, a pizza, maybe some video games in the garage and then she’d retire to Rebecca’s room and try to raid her closet unsuccessfully. But what she arrived at was a whole other story.

She was greeted at the door with a long, slow kiss and Paxton’s lit up face as he ushered her inside.

“We’ve gone on enough dates for me to get that it means one on one, so tonight it’s just us.” He was biting the inside of his cheek.

“Do you have protection?”

“Yeah I-Why, do you?” Leave it to Devi to be the first one to bring up sex. She did say that Paxton brought out her mega-horny side after all, and never thought she would actually get this close to having sex before being moved halfway around the world.

“Yeah, I kind of panicked and asked Kamala to buy me some at the drug store and drop it off a block away so my mom didn’t catch on.” For talking a big game, Devi knew next to nothing about sex. She only knew what she saw in tv shows, read about in weird Wattpad-fanfiction-turned-best-selling-novels, and researched on the internet. She had tried watching porn once but she clicked play when her airpod was off and you couldn’t pay her to relive that experience and the horror of her mom asking what she was doing.

“I kinda asked my parents to take Becca out for the night. I wanna show you something.” Paxton lightly took her head as they walked up the staircase towards his bedroom. Not the garage, not the couch, his room.

“If this is going to be one of the last weekends we have together, I wanted it to be special and shit.” She had been in Paxton’s room before, but had never seen it so clean, and was that the smell of fresh sheets? Upon taking in Devi’s widened gaze, he quickly backtracked and shook his head vigorously. “Not that we have to fool around or do anything that you don’t want to.”

Devi was shaking her head and stifling a laugh for a whole other reason.

“I just wanted you to have something that was something out of the stupid chick-flicks that Becca makes me watch. Something that you can think about while you’re in India and I’m stuck here. I had to use these dumb environmentally friendly light bulbs that my mom buys because the last time we had real candles, there was an incident with Trent and the house almost burned down.”

He had lit candles, or at least light bulbs in the shape of candles, ushered his family out of the house and seemed rather hesitant about asking for sex. She couldn’t believe this was her life right now. Her relationship with Paxton had always been somewhat based on physical attraction. When they first talked and she asked him for sex, to when they started dating and moved onto beyond chaste kisses and lingering touches over clothes to long makeout sessions and bruised lips and body parts.

If anything it only made her want him more and she eagerly hooked her arms around his neck. “This is perfect. More than perfect actually, you didn’t have to go through all the trouble, but I’m glad you did.”

Normally Devi was the one rambling and Paxton was the one initiating things between them, it was kind of a rush to be on the other side of things for a change.

“I want my first time to be with you, here, just like this.” She whispered against his mouth, watching as his lips curved upwards into a wide smile.

He took his time kissing her, familiarizing himself with her body, teasing things out in her that she figured laid dormant. He was moving so slow that Devi was getting frustrated as they fell back onto his bed.  

“I know I’m the virgin here, but doesn’t it usually move a lot quicker than this?” She was trying to unbutton his jeans, lift up his shirt to feel his abs, anything to speed things up but Paxton simply continued pushing his tongue past her lips and making her head spin.

A hand snaked under her shirt and Devi immediately moved to cover her breasts, insecurity surfacing at the worst time.

“What’s wrong?”

“I know I have small boobs and I’m not like Zoe or Shira levels of hotness. So if this isn’t, you know up to par with the sex you usually have, I understand.”

Paxton only furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Did she really not know how he felt about her?

“Not only are you beautiful on the outside, but you’re gorgeous on the inside, something that they...are lacking.”

His words always made her flush, and this time was no exception. “I like your body. Now can I continue to appreciate it the way it deserves?” He chuckled under his breath and with one hand, grabbed both of hers and pinned them above her head. Her eyes widened in surprise and anticipation, she bit down on her bottom lip and if things weren’t already well on their way, he would have muttered something about wanting to do very dirty things to her. Repeatedly.  

“If this is the first time, and quite possibly the last time we have to do this, you better believe that I am going to be taking my time with you.” He caught her lower lip with his teeth, slowing his movements which only made a whine emit from deep in her throat.

Paxton’s free hand moved between her legs and brushed her core through her underwear. Without breaking eye contact he moved her panties aside and inserted one finger into her, and then another.

The sudden pressure made Devi suck in a breath, no amount of YA novels or research could have prepared her for what it would actually feel like. Her whole body lit up, as if she was covered in gasoline and Paxton had lit a match, starting a fire that only seemed to spread.

“So tight.” His breath came out ragged, his jeans tightening against him. Paxton thought that guys thought about sex more than girls, and he hadn’t heard anything to the contrary until he met Devi. She had stared at him one too many times past the point of charming and made remarks about wanting to “climb him like a jungle gym.” Mostly through text to Fabiola and Eleanor that he may have happened to stumble upon when he used her phone to play Candy Crush.

In the days that followed their kiss in the park, Paxton wanted to nail his next history while Devi made it increasingly difficult to concentrate with all the short skirts she would wear, and don’t forget about the constant sexual innuendos she would make that went over his head because they had to do with whatever subject they were learning about.  

“Is this okay?” He asked, his eyes searching hers for any hint of hesitation. One word, and he would gladly stall his movements. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, just go faster. I want more of you. All of you.”

This night was all about making her comfortable, making sure she was getting the most out of this, that her needs were met. A selfish part of him hoped that if he made a lasting impression, she wouldn’t come back from India with a smarter, hotter, boyfriend or worse, fiance. His fears only made his grip on her tighten and tilt her chin up so she was forced to meet his eyes.

“Tell me, in words or else I’ll just assume and that’s a really shitty thing to do.” He spoke slowly, deliberately as her eyes fixated on his chest.

“I want you inside of me.”

Paxton breathed out a sigh of relief, or was Devi breathing out her own? He withdrew his hand and her body instantly shivered at the loss of contact. Within the time it took for him to shake off his jeans, Devi had regained control of her hands and grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt into her hands, yanking it over his head in record time.  

“Do you want me to touch you?”

“Shh, this is about making you feel good.” He mumbled into her hair, dragging his lips towards her ear as she ground her hips into his. He took a condom out of his jeans pocket and rolled it on before positioning himself in between her legs.

He pushed into her slowly, the movements stilling as Devi dug her nails into his back in retaliation. She grimaced at the feeling, her body was tightly wound up and only when Paxton began to move his body at a quicker pace, did hers relax in response.

They laid in bed after, Devi’s legs felt like the jello and even if she had to be home in a few hours, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk without falling or at least looking like a klutz. “Is that a picture of Gigi Hadid on your ceiling?”

Now it was Paxton’s turn to almost flush to an unseemly red color.

“I’ve had that up there forever, just forgot to take it down that’s all.”

“Do you look at it when you, you know?”

“I was just inside you Vishwakumar, I think we’re as intimate as two people can be. You can say the word masturbate.”

“Well, do you?” She pressed, ignoring the way nerves once more fluttered against her stomach. “Do you ever think of me, when you touch yourself?”

“If only you knew.” He murmured against her neck, not wanting to give away just how many nights he spent relieving himself to the memory of their first kiss, or more recently, to their makeout sessions that didn’t just leave her hot and bothered, but him as well. “That was your first time right?”

“Is it that obvious? Should I just have had the word virgin written across my forehead?”

“I think it’s cool that you waited or whatever. Did what was right for you.”

“Why? What was your first time like?” Devi didn’t want to pry, or ask something too personal, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious.

“Um, I think I was 14.”

“14? As in like freshman year of high school?” That was one year younger than her current age, it made bile rise to her throat at the thought.

“Eighth grade. It was the summer before high school and the JV and Varsity swim teams invited us incoming freshmen to a party, to get to know each other and whatnot. It was chaperoned by this one guy’s sister, I think she was 21. Her name was Stacey or Stephanie, something with an S. She brought us all beer and acted cooler than any of our parents at the time.” Devi didn’t say anything, but silently nodded and urged him to continue.

“Anyway, one night like the first week of school, we all get wasted right? Some more than others I guess, because I woke up not remembering anything that happened or even how I got so intoxicated. I was mostly drinking Coke the entire night, with some rum here and there sure, but nothing too extreme. I passed out on the couch and when I woke up, she was on top of me, stroking my hair, touching me, and telling me to stay quiet so we didn’t wake anyone up.”

“I-Is that all?” Her eyes were wide, almost glassy, and Paxton instantly felt years older than her. Like she was too innocent to be hearing this and yet here he was, exposing her to it anyway. Exposing her to the harsh reality that he didn’t want her to know, yet she was already familiar with after what happened to her dad.

“She started whispering in my ear. Tell me how I seemed really mature for my age and how college boys are so rowdy and they didn’t listen to her like I did. I don’t even remember us having any kind of in-depth conversation.” His voice dropped to a low whisper. “She said that it wasn’t cool to go into high school as a virgin, especially if you were a guy. The other guys on the swim team would just turn it into some kind of contest to see who could get laid the fastest. She said I would have a leg up on all of them and be able to show off.”

A bitter chuckle passed through his lips. “Except, I didn’t feel superior or like a man or wanted, I just felt empty.”  

“Did you tell anyone?”

“Only Trent.”

Not wanting to sound rude, Devi bit her tongue and remained nonchalant. “Is Trent really the best person to be telling your secrets to?”

“He’s actually cool once you get to know him, okay? He told me that if I wanted to go to the cops and quote ‘make her a prison bitch’ unquote that he would back me up. He may act stoned 90% of the time, but he has a good heart. I trust him with my life.”

“Did um, did you ever see her again?” She asked patiently, as her fingers ran up and down the length of his torso.

“At that point, it didn’t matter. When I got back to school on Monday everyone had heard, turned me into the big man on campus and whatnot, whether I earned the title or not. I wish I had waited, you know? For my first time to be with someone that I really cared about.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know I’ve been with other girls before and you know, I’m some ladies man or shit. But that’s all it was you know, just sex. It’s isn’t like that with you.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better, this was better than what I had in mind. It was better than any rom-com or YA novel.”

“This doesn’t mean nothing okay? It would never mean nothing, not with you.”

Devi immediately wanted to correct his use of a double negative, but she refrained. She was speechless, too raw, first from the sex they just had and then hearing Paxton’s story. She was touched that he felt comfortable sharing such a private event with her.

“Would you have done things different? Your first time I mean.” She asked quietly, finding her voice again after letting all the information she had just heard sink in.

“Well I definitely would have waited to do it when I was sober.”

“Everyone deserves a second change, a do-over. And you aren’t drunk or high or impaired in any way right now are you?”

“No.”

“So take your do-over.” Sure she didn’t handle her own trauma in the best manner, but she was surprisingly insistent in helping others overcome their own turmoil. Plus with her big brown eyes, Paxton felt like he was saying no to Bambi.

“Dev-”

“I want you to feel good.” His own words hung in the air between them uttered by her soft voice, only a silent nod of his head and Devi had pressed her lips against his and rolled them over so she was now flush against his chest. “We can go as painfully slow as you want.”

“So now you aren’t in a rush to jump me?” The warmth in his features returned, he seemed to have a genuine smile on his face and was raising an eyebrow at her in slightly amusement.

“Something tells me this won’t be the last time, we’ll get there.”