#i made this in 2½ hours so ignore any lack of details I just had to get the idea out

[purpleleafsyt]

Something in my heart keeps saying my someplace is here.

@idoodlemen :>

[love4norris]

THE SWEETEST TORTURE PT.2

ೃ༄ pt.1 here

episode two: caring

ೃ༄ pairing: lando norris x gbsf!y/n

ೃ༄ summary: where her best friend gets a girlfriend and she cant help but despise her and all of her perfectness

ೃ༄warnings: none except this not being proofread! there is some details that might not apply to you, it’s nothing big or anything just stuff to do with favourite colours and stuff but just ignore that if you don’t agree with it! i stayed up LATE to write this so i’m hoping it lives up to all of yours’s standards ( i hate the end bit but it’s like the first ever scene i’ve written like that so please don’t be to critical 🙏)

Raindrops glided down the worn down bricks of your house until they collapsed into the puddles below. The cold air being joined by harsh rainfall as if the darkness that was slowly accumulating inside of your body was beginning to leak into the faint aura of white that remained in the sky.

It however failed to be vengeful, even the sky refusing to be angry at that particular brunette boy.

Your bedroom door felt your wrath the hardest, the innocent slab of wood being pounded back into place to give you some privacy. It must of felt betrayed due to the fact when you had first been surrounded by these particular brick walls, the object had been left alone to watch your emotion flood back and forth across your body exactly like a cargo ship would if it were to encounter a strong storm. A smallest fulfilment of energy was what gave you the order to do such a thing, your brain going into overdrive and messing up constantly created the cause for the violent action as no one, not even an object with a lack of emotion, should witness such a thing.

Each emotion sat freshly placed in your body, almost mocking you as tears fought to be first to slide across your face. It was as if there was a bet going on inside you on whether or not anger or sadness would be the cause for the sudden burst of salty water.

A soft amalgam of the different textures that your clothing pieces had been made of, brushed against the nerves in your hand with every movement back and forth from the wardrobe to your bed.

Coming to a halt directly in front of the end of your bed, you couldn’t help but wonder what he would feel once you had vanished, maybe he would realise something. What? You couldn’t know but the desire for him to realise something, anything was strong.

The decision to leave had been a rash one yet you still managed to find joy in it. The ‘what if’s’ seeming more appealing than any of the concrete answers.

Strong cologne melded with vanilla as the two scarce scents fought for slightest bit of domination over the room. Lando had decided to get ready in your room that two days ago to that exact hour, his words being exactly “so we can talk” but the lack of words that surrounded the two of you in reminder of your friendships sudden depletion, spoke many words but none the same as his.

Silk felt crisp in between your skin, the once smooth fabric now falling apart as if your emotion was once again leaking onto yet another inanimate object of your choosing. Placing it into your newish suitcase, the box began to cast its memories straight into your mind, one however stood out between the rest, the sounds and scents that joined it hand in hand making you feel as though you had been invited into the most peaceful time.

“What about this one?” Lando offered, his index finger pointing directly towards the peppa pig themed suitcase.

“Oh I love it.” Your joking response made him lean forward to grab it and pick it up so his eyes could get the full view of it.

“It’s perfect! I mean even your favourite colour is pink!”

The memory was harshly cut off at his false fact, the eight letter sentence once again concocting the relentless sensations that swirled impatiently around your body. Waiting for anything or even anyone to take it out on.

For once in the many years you had lived in these particular walls, each stroke of paint covered in some form of memory, you felt as though nothing substantial had happened in your life. The brunette boy that was most likely still dancing the night away had your full attention before it was possible to say the word.

No one else could have the blame though, every chance you had to tell him your love for him, you politely declined. Muttering a small ‘maybe next time’ to yourself seemed to do the job just as well.

The scent of him joined you in your solitude long before the sound of the innocent door opening snuck its way into your room. You couldn’t see him but every fibre inside of your body felt him. Even in the absence of any words, sentences cast themselves across the room each sending a long shiver up your spine until it seemed as though the softness of his own fingertips touched the dominant bone. The feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist but it was merely the same air that carted his cologne throughout the room but there was something else weighing down the air, something far more dangerous for the human soul.

Hope.

It stuck with you just like you had wanted Lando to, with strength and determination. Determination that a good outcome would come out of this. But as you stood on the wire that had formed underneath your shaking feet, as your bated breath claimed the entirety of your lungs in fear that if you were to even let one minuscule air particle pass your lips, the wire would snap.

“What are you doing?” The normally regretful or emotion filled words had been drained out as though they were flannels, each run of water that the drain gladly swallowed representing each mistake he had made throughout the years.

“Get out.” You had yet to lift your gaze, every movement being frozen in place, but it felt as though you didn’t need to do much as glance at him to be able to witness the smirk he was so cowardly wearing across his face.

“Pardon?” Yet again, he requested that you restate the demand, he had obviously heard you correctly but the shock in which you had dared to such a thing provided a lack of effort to process the two unfamiliar words.

“GET OUT.” You screamed, the anger boiling over as your hands grasped to grab any object infront of you. The mere, unlucky same silk top you had decided to launch at him being caught before it even managed to intercept his personal space. After all these years of feeling nothing but love towards him and the pain inflicted onto your heart as a result, it was loathsome how he managed to stay so smug throughout the ordeal.

His frame was adorned with a expensive obsidian suit, the blazer being thrown somewhere onto the floor in the lounge before he made his way towards your room. The time in which he left you to cool down had obviously not been expanded long enough, his feeling evident by the shift in his mood and posture.

“Come on, talk to me. For real this time and tell me what is wrong so I can help you.” It was as though his memory had been wiped from the events that had happened beforehand, maybe he even had the luxury to block it from making itself comfortable deeper into his brain.

He stood against the door, back being supported against the abused wooden pillars that held the door in place, sealing the only escape from your possession.

“I don’t even want to look at you, let alone talk to you about what I am feeling.” Swallowing a breath, you put off the appearance of the lump in your throat, pushing it down into the pit of your stomach.

The tension was palpable in the surrounding air, his own body and the singular window not allowing it to disappear. It pricked along the flesh of your exposed skin, slowly gathering all the cold it could just so it could wrap you into a shaking hug.

“I can’t think of what I could have done to make you so mad that you are packing a bloody suitcase! It isn’t so hard to just fucking communicate with your friend.” Lando eyed you as he began to walk over to your suitcase, his strides closing the gap between the two of you before you could close your eyes in a half-hearted blink. “Because we are friends at the end of the day so you can’t just shut me out like it is nothing!”

Pressing your lips together with harsh pressure, somehow you had managed to convince yourself that such an action would keep the building emotions at bay.

“Communicate? It’s head to communicate with someone when they don’t talk to you.” You took a step closer towards him but your voice had a cautious tone, wanting to keep the knife like words in the kitchen.

Lando made no bother in understanding, instead taking it upon himself to take your neatly folded tops out of the suitcase and back open to your gaping draws.

“I cannot.” You paused the second your broken voice punctured the air, the unfathomable amount of emotion that had decided to join immediately shocking the both of you. Your throat felt tight, the tensions hands unravelling themselves around from your lower body to meet with your neck as if it were doing everything in its power to keep these words hostage. “I will not be the friend that you simply settle for every now and then because you can’t be bothered with the others.”

Although the thought had only recently brought itself to light, the evidence to support its claims were overwhelming. The friend that he has on the side to just pick at whenever he needed to.

“Y/N-.” His sentence made no effort in finishing itself, the one word drawn out enough to consume the singular wasted breath it had stolen to get out.

“The truth is, I do love you. I have forever and I have had forever to come to terms with that and I have come to terms you do not feel the same way about me. I have worked years for this and the second you find out-.” There was something depressing, something you could feel penetrating your heart as you watched Lando’s face drop in realisation, the words funnelling in through his ears as quickly as he could process them.

“You just threw it out there as if it was nothing! Like it meant absolutely nothing to you!” Bewilderment laced your tone as it turns into a sharp scoff. Any stability that you had taken years to build up departing you with lack of any second thoughts. A question shuffled itself uncomfortably into your accusation however the lack of an actual inquiry filled you with a large emptiness. “Do you care?”

“Where are you going?” Words spilled over his slightly pouted lips, each one taking its turn to break down your barriers yet none faced the question so firmly placed in-front of them.

The world felt quiet, as though the only sound that dared to echo through the used up air, belonged to the two lone people that stood in your bedroom. Your breaths heavy with words that were unable to be spoke aloud.

For, he had evidently given up on the method of stealing your clothes, instead opting to just keep a few back for good measure.

“Why are you leaving me?” He tilted his head to the side as though it would help him gather the answer to his inquiry, his eyes peering slowly directly into yours.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Was all you could muster up in that moment, your vocal cords had numbed themselves, refusing to fall victim to everlasting lump that began to get comfortable at the back of your throat.

“Would you stay if I gave you a good enough reason?”

There was a million words that you could say, scream in response. But as your eyes began to take ahold of themselves and gain the strength to look at him, none seemed sufficient enough to hold the power of your pleas for him to give you a good reason, a great reason even.

“What if I told you that I did care, more than I should. A lot more than I should. But you are not the person I should care about so, so much. That should be Lacy but no matter how hard I tried, it was impossible. Or what if I told you that I went back in there after you left and I walked straight up to her to tell her that she was amazing and deserves much better than me and then I drove straight here to figure out that there was a recurring theme in this. And that is that I am not good enough, that I don’t deserve the love that people are so willing to give to me all the time.” Lando gazed at you stood so far yet so close to him, his voice deep but cracked as it floated around, certain words in particular sitting directly in his eye line.

Blinking softly, as you find yourself falling asleep to his dreamy words, you cleared you throat to fill the void of silence as you brain began to formulate the perfect sentence in which to respond with.

There was no response needed however, his scent engulfing you before his arms managed to. The warmth of his breath fanned against your sealed lips, as Lando’s briefly brushed against yours in a teasing manner, his lips hovering just above the touch of your lips. His palms were placed firmly on your hips, bringing you as close to him as humanly possible as all his actions combined in a way that was pushing you to make the first move.

“You guys have definitely broken up?” The question was one you had to ask before sealing the deal, you hands tauntingly snaking up his shoulders so they could encircle around the base of his neck, preparing for your next move.

“Definitely.” He confirmed breathlessly, though never let himself falter away from his current position and you couldn’t help but wonder how much pleasure he was getting from depriving you of something you had been wanting for years.

“I picked you.” With those three particular words, his lips descended directly on top of yours.

You had waited years for this moment, dreamt of it countless times and here you were, experiencing it. Experiencing as his hands trailed around your body as though it was an unexplored map.

Rather suddenly, he dragged you apart through the use of your hips so he could look you directly in the eyes.

“You aren’t going to leave now, right?”

“Not until you fuck up again.”

[the-orange-tabby-cat]

Wings Of The Dawn | Chapter 2

AO3 link 🐾 | read chapter 1

GIF by loregifs

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pairing: joel miller x fem!reader Rating: 18+ eventually | first chapters free of smut Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, Age Difference, Small Town Dynamics, No use of y/n Word count of the chapter: 6k Next chapter will be posted: September 27th

Summary of the fic: You are Jackson's librarian, a doll with a good heart, that has your life changed when a handsome man decides to take his kid and start again in your small town after completing their cross country journey. Having a hard time ignoring Joel's dark brown eyes, you find yourself wishing to have him close as you both navigate through love triangles, teenage drama, city gossip, and ghosts from both of your pasts. This is a comfort fic filled with slow burn and small town dynamics. Chapter summary: Time for a lights out one on one session with your favorite Texan. And no, I'm not talking about smut... Yet.

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CHAPTER 2

If you stare into the darkness for too long, you will notice that you can differentiate the shapes near you. For the first seconds, as your eyes get used to the lack of light, everything appears darker than it is, but as you keep them open, you see the details around you. After 21 years of living in the outbreak, being in the darkness from time to time isn't as challenging as it used to be, even for someone like you who wanted to run into the light as fast as you could.

"How many candles exactly do we need?" You asked Nath as she melted the beeswax little by little. There would be a programmed energy rationing for the following days as the dam got its amends done, making the demands for other sources of light higher.

It was a scorching day, much hotter than average for this time of the year. The heat in the candle-making process was hard to deal with, forcing both women to wear summer clothes and accept sweating as a regular reaction. You felt somewhat dizzy with the heat coming from the stove.

"We have 300 residents, I'm considering maybe 2 per person." She opened her mouth slightly, with her dark blue eyes looking above her, "600 up to 700 candles, maybe?"

"With just me and you making all of them? This is impossible." You looked at her, putting one of your hands behind your neck, scratching a little. From time to time, she would get a new plan that involved you both making something daring. Still, today, you were feeling tired from the start and decided to sabotage it before even beginning.

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. We will have helpers, they’ll be here any minute, so you better behave and help me get the rest of the wax." Next to her, there were some trays with leftover candles. Everybody donated what they had on their shelf for the initiative.

Accepting defeat, you look at her, thinking about having more hands on. "Wait, what kind of help? You never involve anyone else in your plans," you inquired while separating the donated wax by color. Nath was very social and had most of the city in a chokehold, but she wasn't the type to keep too many people in her private life.

"First of all, ouch, I have more friends other than you," you glared at her, which she promptly ignored, "second, I convinced your favorite teenagers to join us. What could go wrong? Am I right?"

Without asking, you already knew the teens she was referring to.

In the weeks after the dinner at Alfie's house, Cat spent at least one hour per day at the library, close to you. She made herself useful with the book system you created, helping to put the books back on the shelves before you asked for it. Other times, she would read to the little kids in a group that came with the people from the small daycare near the corner by the afternoon.

Cat was reading Dr. Seuss, a very old copy of Oh, the Places You'll Go!, with a few yellow spots at page corners due to time, one of the residents found under a bed when they first moved into a house and decided to donate it. The infants reacted with smiles and giggles when you heard the characteristic bell sound of the front door.

Ellie stepped in with two books under her arm. You recognized her plaid shirt from the day at the meadow, trembling a bit with the memory. "I presume you devoured both of those?" You said, nodding at the books. She laughed.

"Yeah, came to deliver these and get new ones," she replied, putting them on the counter. As you went to put them on the right shelf, you noticed her brown eyes lingering on the kids listening to Cat's reading.

"Why don't you sit with them for a bit as I get you something new?" She looked at you and nodded slowly, finding her a cushion on the floor behind the kids. You smiled and thought she probably hadn't experienced the childhood pleasure of someone reading for her. A quick image of your brother reading out loud came into your mind, and you buried it as you searched for your recommendation books' shelves.

Cat didn't mind Ellie listening to her as she flipped the pages and showed the images to the kids. Ellie was blinking slowly, following Cat's hand in front of the pages, no longer a teen but instead a child. You started to get her two books since only taking one per visit was no longer enough.

She came every day to the library. At first, she came and left in a few minutes, just wanting a book to take home, but slowly she started to stay longer. Sometimes, she came just to check the available titles, walking between the shelves; others to get new books to take with her, and at times just to go somewhere. She was lingering for something you didn't recognize but tried to provide to her. Comfort seems to be a word that came close to what you felt she needed. You separated a table for her, near the window, a little far from the main door, when you saw she only read at her house. It has been two weeks since she started to read by her chair.

Finishing the story, the kids got up, and the teacher thanked you and Cat, who was already on her feet and coming closer to Ellie. You noticed a little red on her pale cheeks, perhaps from not being around other teens that much.

"So, what do you think?" Cat asked with a smile similar to the one that Alfie gave.

"Kinda cool, but not much for me," Ellie answered, a little snarky but playful. You wondered if Joel had a similar approach to humor.

"Okay, what do you like then?" Walking through the shelves, Cat put a copy of The Princess Diaries at the table nearby. As Ellie rolled her eyes, Cat got a clue and flickered around the shelf a little longer until she found something. “Maybe this? It looks like a you type of book.”

Ellie read the Murder on the Orient Express engraved on the cover and gave a quick look at Cat, "Now we’re talking, what is it about?" and with that they kept talking until after the sunset. Your recommendations for Ellie that day were discharged as she took Agatha Christie home, following Cat's tip.

They became a buy-one-get-two kind of deal. Cat helped you around as Ellie sat and read whatever the girl chose for her. If Cat wasn't there, no problem, she would wait for her with you, doing whatever her mind wanted. This was one of those days when Cat wasn't supposed to be at the library for a while, and without someone of her age, Ellie swallowed up her shyness and started to talk with you at the back house.

The back house was mainly bureau style, with just the machine that once belonged to a printing place, primarily focused on invitations and small printing, you believed. Now, they were filling a different purpose, restoring books and helping to preserve memory a title per time. You were taking leather and measuring for a book spine near the table, Ellie watching it closely.

“Where did you learn to do this?” She quietly asked, absorbed in the process, her eyes watching every small move you made.

"My dad was an archivist for a church. Do you know what are those?" Putting the book spine right in the middle, you started to glue the leather at the cover and back cover. Ellie shook her head, confused.

"Books are more than just stories, they also hold details about the world around us. Or used to, at least. My dad's life purpose was to ensure that every document, book, or piece of paper that held the church's history, part of us, was in good condition. He took care of it to be preserved for the next generations. I used to watch him do this at our house, in his studio. I like to think he would like me to continue doing this."

“What kind of books a church needs?” Ellie was seated next to you, her arms crossed a little on the table with her chin resting above them. You glanced at her and saw that she was honest with her question.

"Do you know what a Bible is?" You asked, stopping all your actions. She shook her head once more. "Well, you don't need to know about it, anyway. Churches' books are mostly their origin history or a collection of stories about what they believe." Forcing your hands to work with the leather again, you reflected on how different your life would have been without religious symbols shoved down your throat.

"Sounds kinda lame if you need a book to tell you what to believe," she replied, twisting her mouth slightly as if she thought it was absurd. You smiled at her, thinking about how much she looked like your brother at the moment.

Cat came not much after that, together with Nath, who was wearing a t-shirt written: "turtley awesome." She saw you by the counter and grinned immediately, making you sigh.

"You have a new plan," you said, annoyed.

"Yes, I have a new plan." She announced at the same time. "Our favorite Mexican will be starting to work on the dam soon, so I thought my favorite doll could do this city a favor and deliver candles with me."

"That's it? Deliver candles from house to house?" Squinting your eyes at her, you felt it was too good to be true. She squinted back at you for a few seconds, making Cat laugh.

"She forgot to say that we don't have any candles left in storage. You'll need to make new ones," Cat said, and you mouthed an "oh" to Nath. Of course, her plan had a catch.

"Just like I said, our favorite Mexican will be working on the dam soon, and they need a shit ton of candles in, like, two days," Nath said, pointing to Cat, eyebrows raised. As Ellie left your work table and came closer to the counter, Nath looked at her.

"Nice shirt," Ellie observed, followed by Nath humming something and entering a staring contest with the girl. You looked at both of them, confused about what was happening.

"How old are you? 12?" Nath questioned. Ellie shortly replied, saying 14. "Do you have a curfew?"

"Okay, no more interrogation. Let the poor girl be. When do you want to start this candle mission?" Before Ellie opened her mouth, you moved your hands in a motion to stop, gaining a short laugh from both girls.

"You see, Cat I get it, but how did you convince Ellie to make candles with us? This is new. I only see her at the library," the gears inside your head running with you, wondering when they met beside the library a few days back.

"A lady never tells, Doll," she said, melting more wax, "but apparently, having a collection of t-shirts with puns did the trick."

From the Tipsy Bison, Nath had a good view of the main street. She was quick to observe who and what, and even faster to understand their motivations. She noticed that Tommy's niece was going every day to the library, and on the days it was closed, she would stay put at home.

Joel appeared here and there, mainly with Tommy by his side, she crossed paths with them a few times and could check Joel's address. With the house street in her mind, she made a connection: Ellie was going to the library straight from her house, not from the school building, and as Maria reported earlier, she was supposed to already have started.

Nath and Seth cooked the patrol's food daily, with the patrollers coming to the counter to collect it before going to the city gate. In one of the deliveries, she heard Joel would come with the day's patrol to inspect the dam before working on it. It was Sunday, the library was closed, Nath made up her mind to let Seth take care of the Bison for the day and started walking to Ellie's house.

"Hum, yeah?" The girl opened the door, confused. Nath and she had seen each other just once, at the library, a couple days ago. Ellie's eyes lingered a bit too much on Nath's chest area, probably reading the t-shirt with a mouse drawing and the phrase "smartest rat at the sewer."

"What color is your room's ceiling?" Nath asked, snooping with her eyes inside the house. Old American regular, not yet different from the previous decoration there before being occupied by J0el and his kid. Impersonal, just a place to sleep, not a home.

 She needed to find a way to get Ellie outside fast since Maria lived on the other side of the street and could easily question her motives for being there.

“Dirty white, why?” Ellie crossed her arms and raised one of her brows.

"Congratulations, you are a bored teen. Let me tell you what’ll happen now: you’ll come with me and have an amazing city tour, or you can stay here and your best choice is to sleep." Nath started walking down the pavement, shouting, "You have a minute to grab your keys and follow me."

Ellie rushed behind her, eager to have any excuse to leave her house. Nath had two main focuses during the tour: to present her with the basics of how the city worked and to gain a new alliance. She tried to make sure the kid understood the main buildings.

"Okay, let's get to the basics: buildings. The city has some structures inside our walls, but we also have some land a few miles from here to get some specifics. The food you eat is a mix of everything, Chad," she pointed at the man working on the garden as they passed by it, "is our gardner. Vegetables, fruis — you name it, are harvest inside the city and the animals come from the land outside. Try to get close to Chad, when you crave something sweet, compliment him, and he will give you a few berries. Works like a charm."

"The stable's horses are for the whole community, but if you start to patrol, you can choose one to be your main one." Nath continued as Ellie looked back at her in wonder.

“Which one is yours?” Nath laughed at the absurdity of the question.

“I don’t patrol, kid. Do you really think that I’d go around the runners and lunatics outside these walls risking my life? Hell no! My contribution is good alcohol and movie nights orchestrated by yours truly at the mess hall. Do you like horror movies?" Ellie didn't answer immediately, almost as if she had never seen one. "Well, you can try and see if it fits. The next one will be in a few weeks, you should come."

They walked through the main avenue and the main buildings. Nath showed her where they produced paper, how they got new fabric to make more clothes and not rely only on "treasure hunting." Little by little, Ellie understood the whole system of the city, including the government model. They were walking back on the main avenue as Nath continued the final part of the tour.

"If you ever get fucked up pretty bad and need a doctor, you go there and ask for Edwin. He looks a thousand years old, but pretty cool dude in case of an emergency," she spoke, nodding at the clinic on the other side of the street.

About four houses down the street, she started to speak again. "The little kids stay at the daycare until late during weekdays – make sure to do not cross their paths, or you will smell a diaper from a mile away," she twisted her nose and pointed at the said building. Ellie laughed, eyes bright as if she was taking notes of everything.

"And this is the best place in this city," Nath said as they entered the Tipsy Bison as the city tour ended, "it also opens every day of the week but for adults, not pests. You can't drink anything I have behind this counter, but you can eat a mean grilled cheese. Hungry?"

Turned out it was Ellie’s first time in a bar, exactly what you would hope for a 14year old, anyway. She was seated at a stool in front of the counter, watching from the kitchen’s door Nath make her a sandwich. Above the door, there was a black plaque with white letters:

NO SWEARING

NO FIGHTS

NO CORDYCEPS DISCUSSIONS

NO END OF THE WORLD TALK

"Why the hell do you have these rules for?" Ellie asked out loud, making Nath look at the plaque as she passed the door with the grilled cheese plate. "What happens if someone breaks it?"

“Pawpaw’s rules, not mine, but I still follow them. Don’t test them and you will be fine. Eat your damn sandwich,” she replied, Ellie was already taking a bite. “You like to read, huh? I watch you walk to the library every day. Dolly may be somewhat innocent, but I’m not. You are running from something.”

"What do you mean?" Ellie replied, getting tense at her shoulders, her small mouth a little more rigid. "I have no clue what you’re talking about."

"I get it, pal. A new kid that crossed the country with a grumpy man and ended up in a small town? Not the smoothest life," the girl looked down and took another bite. Nath continued, "My grandpa and I had our share of adventures before coming to this place, just me and him. If anyone understands you, this person is me. You skip school to go to the library. Dolly hasn't realized it yet, but I do."

"What the fuck do you want from me?" Ellie replied using her meanest tone. Nath pointed at the plaque with the rules. The girl looked up. "Not saying sorry for your stupid rules."

“Didn’t ask you to. Listen, I’ll keep your secret for now if you do me a favor.” Getting herself a little closer to the kid, Nath whispered, “I need to deliver some things around town and can’t be seen while at it, but you, nobody knows you yet. Simple and easy.”

"What kind of things?" She questioned in the same breathy tone, trying to keep her posture. "What can you give me in exchange? I won't do it for a secret. It’s too little."

“Basic shit, I can give you more details later,” Nath replied and waited for Ellie’s reaction, that just nodded her head once, “here’s the deal: you make me one deliver to check the quality of your work and come to my house next Sunday afternoon with Cat, I get you something from a smuggler outside Jackson. You name it.”

"Really, man? You want me to help with your stupid candles?" Ellie rolled her eyes, and Nath maintained her neutral expression, trying her best to get the kid afraid of her. It worked.

Ellie took her last bite and shook her head, "Fine, but no, something smuggled is too little. I want your shirt. The turtley awesome one." They sealed the deal with a handshake. One week later, Ellie and Cat were helping to make candles, to your utter confusion.

"Are you sure that this is your preferred weekend activity?" You asked as you finished making the second batch of candles. Looking at Cat, you continued, "Aren't we too old to be your pals for the day?"

"Old? Yeah, lame? No, also, I'm hoping to be paid with another apple pie," Cat said, and you smiled at her, putting the topic to rest.

Turned out that 600 candles were indeed impossible with the amount of time you had. You were tired of making them until way after the sunlight went away. Cat had gone home already, Ellie stayed to help clean everything and you realized it was probably too late for her to walk back alone, Joel was most likely worried.

Despite the kid saying to you that it was alright, you insisted on chaperoning her, carrying with you some candles, hoping that Joel would be less angry by it. As you walked the few blocks to their house, you came to the conclusion that you had no indication, clue, or even context for what Joel was like. Ellie spent most of the days at the library, but you never spoke about her relationship with him. He was a book waiting to be opened, one that you wanted to read every page and write small comments at the margins.

“I’m home!” Ellie shouted downstairs, as she entered the main door, Joel came from the kitchen. “Oh no”, you thought.

With a cloth rag on his shoulder, he stopped near Ellie, both hands on his hips and a knee popped. She opened her mouth, he quickly dismissed, "Don't. I told you, this is a safe place, safe as it gets, but you need to give a heads up before disappearing like that."

"I lost track of time, sorry. Nothing bad happened. Tell him, Dolly," she replied quickly, looking at you behind her shoulder. You were still at the front door, feeling awkward to enter the house. Joel furrowed his brows and looked at you up and down.

It had been a hot day, summer was not far away anymore. A tank top with shorts made sense for a day with your best friend, but in front of Joel, you felt naked. More naked than the day at the meadow. You jumped a bit, put on your best polite voice, and announced, "Sorry for showing up late, we did lose track of time. Ellie stayed with us all day. I can assure you she was fine under my eye."

Joel gave you a look, almost as if he didn't believe you. Remembering your first proper encounter at the Bison, he knew immediately you hated your nickname. Now he knows you were being just polite, not yourself, real. He looked through the doll in you, putting some weight on how his dark brown eyes gazed at yours.

"I mean it, she showed up by noon at Nath's door and stayed a little later to help us clean the mess. We made candles for the nights without energy. No more than that. I brought you some." You said in your own voice, no more the doll one.

"Right," he replied, looking down and then to Ellie, "Go to bed, you have school tomorrow. It's okay. I'm not mad at you." Ellie nodded, her face tensed still, and left without making any comments, leaving you alone with Joel.

For a few seconds, staring at each other, you both seemed to forget what you were doing. He spoke first, "So, the candles, thank you for them. They’ll be useful."

“Yeah, they will.” Putting the candles in his hands, you looked away when your fingers touched his. Not giving in to the feeling, you continued, “Have you seen the dam yet?”

"Hum, no, I’ll see the dam structure tomorrow." Joel quickly replied, short answer.

“Maria told the council that you used to work as a contractor, are you happy to do it again?” You tried once more, hoping to get more words out of him.

"I think so, it’s been so long that it feels like another lifetime," Joel replied, putting the candles away and taking the rag from his shoulder, not daring to look at you. Another lifetime, another Joel.

A younger Joel would have already asked for you to join him in the kitchen for a drink, maybe to walk you home, not this version with old bones and fear of everything. This one was too busy trying to keep what he already had near him, avoiding at all costs to be greedy.

To say that his first day back at a construction site was a dog day would be to lighten it up. He lied to you. Joel met Tommy a week ago to understand better the dam plan, the needs, and all by visiting it.

"Alfie is a good fella, not like some of the people we used to work with back at Austin," Tommy said as they walked down the main avenue toward the city gate. Joel allowed himself to see his baby brother as the 50 year old man he was, putting some trust in Tommy's words despite his history of having too much faith in everyone that sold him a good story.

Over the prior weeks, he tried to get some ground for him and Ellie. He would make her breakfast early in the morning, just like when they were traveling. Leave a lampshade lighted all night near her bedroom door to avoid bad dreams. Meet her at the mess hall every night to have dinner with Tommy and Maria. Walk her to school every morning. However, no matter what he tried, he could still notice the weight on her stare from when she asked if he was being honest with her.

Biting down the corner of his mouth, Tommy introduced him to Alfie at the city entrance. The man was accompanied by a young girl who looked similar to him. "Alfie, this is my brother, Joel. He will be joining us today at the dam."

"I heard good things about your abilities. Nice to meet you," Alfie started with a smile and shook his hand, "this is Catarina, my daughter. I will be home before the sunset, mija."

Joel controlled the impulse to sigh. Alfie was too smiley, too happy, too endearing, too young. Probably had an effect on women because of his thick accent, and being in his late thirties,  early forties maximum helped as well. He had a happy look in his eye as if he hadn't lived on the same Earth as Joel for the last 21 years.

 Cat gave her father a long hug and started to walk, leaving Alfie to talk with Joel and Tommy. The scene felt like a slap on his face, a reminder of what he one day had and now was shaking on his boots to keep. He assumed that Cat and Alfie had a similar age difference as Sarah and he had. Alfie was a natural, appeared to get along with his daughter, could smile easily, and had been a good friend to his brother over time. Envy wasn't a natural feeling for Joel, but he was sure he was jealous of the young man's destiny over his own.

He could sense there was conversation near him but only paid attention when Alfie said his name back at him. "Cat and Ellie are getting closer. Perhaps you both could join us for a backyard barbecue," he invited, smiling.

"Yeah, we’ll be there. Thank you," Joel agreed, looking in front of him, despite having not heard a single time Ellie mention Cat. He didn't know when, but he got so lost in his thoughts as they followed the trail that he lost his sense of reality a little. They were no longer at Jackson but on the back of horses following for the dam. He had no idea of how much time had passed.

“Hey man, I forgot to ask you. We saw you at Dolly’s door the other night, all good?” Tommy started as he got closer to Alfie, Joel behind them at the back of the trail. “All this cat and mouse must be tiring.”

“Oh, Dolly,” Alfie looked down a little, peaking Joel’s interest. “It is not, like, she is avoiding me, you know? But she hasn’t searched for me yet, I don’t know what to do.”

Alfie's smile was no longer decorating his face. Joel felt slightly guilty when he found out he felt better seeing the man's sadness. He had crossed paths with you a couple of times, but you looked at him straight in the eyes instead of running away. He saw how you dropped your shoulders as Alfie left your doorway, almost as if you were annoyed by the idea of being close to the man.

For a second, Joel allowed himself to believe you would have put your arms around his neck if he was the one kissing your cheek instead.

"She is a little difficult, but hey, progress is progress! Have you tried to ask Nath about it?" Tommy put a hand on his tight and looked at Alfie, a little lost in his thoughts.

"Not directly, she scares me a little," both men laugh as Joel didn't get the joke.

“Well, you should get a beer and try to get some alliances if you really want the doll,” Tommy advised and went straight to the front of the trail.

A well-known face waited for them at the dam. Joel glared at Tommy, who didn't look back at his brother's face. "Can't believe you didn't tell me this shit," Joel hissed low in his brother's direction.

Eugene and Tommy were fireflies together. Joel heard about the man over radio conversations over the years, listening to Tommy's enthusiasm as he spoke of his people skills and electricity expertise. Tommy searched for an older figure in Eugene because he no longer trusted Joel, simple as that. When Joel and Ellie showed up last winter, Tommy kept Eugene's presence a secret. Coming back during spring, he told Joel right away.

"Okay, you gotta check this out. I found the old floor plant of the dam in one of the office's rooms near the entrance. It will be a good rainy season, baby!" Eugene shouted hoarsely as the trio stopped their horses, Tommy and Alfie already walking behind him. Joel, however, stood back, taking a good look at the former firefly.

A slender man with long limbs, round glasses cracked in one of the lenses, and shaggy gray hair. His front teeth were slightly separated inside of a large mouth. It burned Joel's blood seeing Eugene so carefree, living a good life after years of Firefly actions and filling his brother's mind with ideas. Joel saw in him an old man who hadn't allowed himself to get old and hoped he didn't appear like this to the others, a joke of a man.

You were looking at Joel like he wasn't a joke to you, at least not a big one. His mind returning to the house with you, he waved the cloth a little on the air as if thinking and speaking at the same speed. "Why was Ellie with you?" He questioned a little for himself and a lot for you. He put some weight on the remembrance of that day at the dam, deciding to deal with it later.

"My friend, the bar owner - Nath, invited her to the activity." You replied with a lower voice as you shoved your hands in the back pockets of your shorts. "I can tell her to no longer invite Ellie if you feel uncomfortable."

"No, it's fine. Just took me by surprise, I guess," he quickly replied, pouting a little.

As you opened your mouth to say goodbye, a sizzling sound filled the room, and the lights flickered, followed by silence and total darkness. "Goddammit, fucking Eugene," Joel said out loud, leaving an intense sigh out of his body.

In the total darkness, you saw his silhouette against the moonlight that filtered from the kitchen's windows, a little far from where you stood in the living room. You could only hear you and Joel breathing.

"Guess we will have to use the candles before we imagined," he dared to speak, walking backwards into his kitchen. You were unsure of what to do, start to walk home? Wait until he came back with a candle lit up?

You waited, not by choice, but because you couldn't decide in time. You saw Joel protecting the candle's flame as he got close to you, his face lines soft from the orange light. His dark brown eyes were even stronger as the flame danced, reflecting on them.

"Come, I’ll get you something to eat," he spoke gently, and you followed his steps to the kitchen table despite the fact you were talking back.

“No, I will walk home, it’s already late,” you said without any intention to leave.

“Nonsense, it’s too dark for you without the lamppost. Stay a bit,” he replied gentler.

There was something sweet about how Joel moved around when his guard was low. It was the third time you met the man, but you noticed his shoulder line relaxed and his hands precise in their movements. In the dark of his kitchen, you wondered if he would appear the same with the lights on.

Joel heated for you some leftover tomato soup he made earlier when he waited for Ellie to show up. With a hint of embarrassment, you accepted the dish, lowering a spoon and tasting it.

"I'm not a huge fan of winter food during hot weather, but this is very good." He smiled, and a dimple appeared on his cheek. "Do you like to cook?"

"Not really, but I had to learn it due to necessity," he shrugged, frowning down a bit with his mouth. You laughed, and he smiled again.

"I learned due to necessity, and my soups don't taste like this," you teased, having another full spoon.

Time passed with the candle melting, and the only sound on the first floor was both your voices. Without noticing, you were almost whispering. You weren't sure if it was to avoid waking up Ellie or because it felt like a secret to be there alone with him.

“Can I get a little nosy?” You chewed your lower lip after speaking, Joel nodded. “Ellie comes to the library all the time. I think she is avoiding something.”

Joel's eyes got harder. "What do you mean?" He questioned, putting his back against the chair, getting some space from you.

“She reads a lot, which is amazing, but she reads to forget reality, not to her entertainment.” You lowered your eyes at your almost empty plate. Silence filled the room again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

"You are right," Joel affirmed, crossing his arms at his chest. His eyes were lost on the wooden table in front of him. "The way to Jackson wasn't easy, I can tell you this much. She came from a FEDRA school, it takes time to learn how to be a kid when you were raised to be a soldier."

Finishing your soup and resting the spoon on the plate, you looked at Joel. The lines between his brows were stronger now, his hands around his biceps holding tight his body closed. His plush lips were tensed as he stayed quiet, immersed in his thoughts.

"Time heals most things," you started, earning a quick glance from him, "she will open her shell. I will keep an eye on her, pinky promise."

His eyes went back and forth between yours. You felt a little awkward after saying such a childish phrase in front of a man older than you, forgetting for a second you weren't speaking with Nath or your brother but with someone you were spending more than 5 minutes together for the first time. Despite that, he put one arm on the table, close to your hand, and lifted his pinky finger.

Smiling with your mouth closed, you enlaced your finger with his. He slowly looked from your finger to your eyes and smiled back. In the low and trembling light from the only candle in the whole room, with his dark eyes boring into yours, you never felt more seen.

[piecksz]

three’s a crowd | (m)

pairing: reiner x fem!reader x eren

warnings: nsfw, oral sex (female recieving), cuckolding, male masturbation, penetrative sex, voyeurism, slight degredation, slight angst, light mention of drugs, explicit language

summary: reiner’s attempt at hiding his attraction towards you fails, but lucky for him, eren’s feeling generous.

words: 4.6k

a/n: this was so much longer than i planned for.....well.....shit LMAOOO

a/n x2: I FORGOT TO ADD if you guys wanna listen to the song i looped like 47 fucking times while writing this, bc i feel like it fits reiner in this one shot kinda well, u can listen to recognize by partynextdoor (feat. drake) :p enjoy

Reiner hated Eren.

He hadn’t gone into living with someone he’d never met in person before with innumerable expectations, but he wasn’t banking on his roommate to be his polar opposite. He hated the sound of Eren’s riotous music into the early hours of dawn. He hated the unbearable malodor of his marijuana dependence, and he hated the way he carried himself with an intolerable air of arrogance, but as much as Eren’s living habits irritated him, it was the fact that Eren had you that presided over all of his grievances.

Being a witness to it made Reiner sick, knowing that you were leagues above Eren, and surely you deserved someone respectable, but somehow he’d charmed you into a long-term relationship, and Reiner wondered how he’d managed it. If by some miracle it had been up to him, Reiner speculated that he would be a viable match for you--that was if he had those sentiments for you--and he reassured himself he didn’t hold any promiscuous feelings towards his roommate’s girlfriend.

Yet it was hard for Reiner to rationalize the obscene thoughts that pervaded his mind at 2 AM. His clock displayed the time in bold red numbers, an indication that he should have been fast asleep, but you had decided to spend the night, and he already understood what that entailed.

The walls in their apartment were thin and did an insubstantial job of muting the noise that traveled between rooms. Reiner boasted the privilege of having his room right next to Eren’s, which meant he could hear everything that happened on the other side of the barrier. He heard every whimper, every groan, every time Eren praised you for taking him so well, and every time he admired how irresistible you looked while he fucked you from the back. The sound was so lucid he could count exactly how many rounds you guys had gone, and it was usually two, three if Eren hadn’t seen you in a while which was rare.

You two were hard to ignore, no matter how hard Reiner had tried, meaning he was also up late, listening while you two coupled. Your cries of stimulation, however, he didn’t mind as much. In truth, Reiner was always tempted to slip his hands into his pants and get himself off to the sound of your enticing whimpers, but he would discourage himself, deciding it was against his better judgement. Instead he would opt to cover his ears with his pillow, flipping over onto his side and dedicating his total effort to falling asleep.  

Of course, Reiner had long established that he didn’t like you, but he swore he could make you feel better than Eren could.

It was around midday when Reiner returned to their apartment after committing his morning to helping his long-time friend, Pieck, pack up the furniture at her studio in preparation to move. They were halfway finished with stowing away Pieck’s belongings before she realized they didn’t have enough boxes and apologized, asking Reiner if he’d be willing to return the following day to help her load up her remaining things. He obliged, guiltily happy that he was being dismissed early.

Reiner kicked off his shoes and ambled into the kitchen to set down the food he secured on his way home, but he paused momentarily to scrutinize the condition of the living room, discerning Eren’s obvious trace.

The TV was on, but it sat idly, blinking images of some prime time movie Reiner couldn’t recognize, and Eren’s drug paraphernalia was left scattered on the coffee table, his bong alongside his stray lighter and grinder.

“Eren!” Reiner had prompted him on several occasions, reminding Eren that just because he thought electricity was a necessary utility and should be free, didn’t mean it was, they still had to pay for it. He also requested that he put his bong away after he was done smoking since it wasn’t permitted in their building, but Eren seemed heedless to that demand too. “Eren!”

Reiner anticipated a response, but huffed when he received only silence. Leave it to his roommate to blight his good mood in record time. He mumbled inaudibly, swiping the remote off the table to turn the TV off, and then reluctantly bending down to tidy the space of Eren’s things.

“Hi, Sunshine. You’re up and about early.”

Reiner straightened himself out and turned around, unaware that you’d been over. He missed your approaching footsteps. Had you stayed the night? He didn’t hear anything from Eren’s room the previous evening which was unusual to say the least. Maybe you’d stopped by earlier that morning while he’d been out.

“Hey,” he replied meekly. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were here.”

Reiner’s eyes looked you over swiftly, slightly startled at the lack of clothing covering your bottom half. You were only wearing a loose shirt that stopped dangerously at your hips and a pair of lace undergarments, but naturally, you didn’t seem the least bit phased. You’d practically lived with them. When you weren’t in class or at your part-time job, you were at their apartment, leading Reiner to wonder if you forgot you had a place of your own. 

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “Sorry Eren left all of his shit out. I don’t know how I know the house rules and he doesn’t.”

Reiner snorted. “He knows them, he just doesn’t care.” His voice was casual although he walked hastily into the kitchen to avoid looking at you. He stored Eren’s bong in the vacant cupboard above the microwave before throwing his other tools into a miscellaneous drawer.

As if on cue, Eren wandered out of his room languidly, carelessly shrugging a jacket onto his unclad upper body. Reiner took that as a sign that his lunch would be best enjoyed in his room. He was already irked, and wasn’t in the headspace to deal with the current atmosphere.

“What’d you get?” you questioned, leaning over the counter with mirth. You paid little attention to the way Eren came up behind you, circling his arms around your waist and resting his chin in the curve of your shoulder. You looked more interested in the alluring smells wafting from the paper bag in Reiner’s hand.

Another thing he hated about Eren was his shameless PDA. It appeared he adored showing you off, letting everyone know that you were his, but God--how could anyone forget when it seemed he was incapable of keeping his hands off of you. Reiner himself recognized that you were a prize, from your lively eyes that were a marriage of subtle hues to the way your lips curled upwards when you grinned. He even noticed the curve of your breasts’ shape through your shirt. If Reiner had you, he’d want you all to himself.

He shook the thought out of his head.

“I just got something small on the way home.” He forced a smile. “If I’d known you were over I would have gotten you something too.”

“Why do you treat Y/N better than you treat me?” Eren asked, sounding only a little bit offended.

Reiner pretended to think before he responded. “Ah, maybe it’s because I don’t like you.”

You laughed at Reiner’s reply, and Eren only smiled, but Reiner detected something else behind his expression. Mischief.

“Do you like Y/N?”

Reiner creased his eyebrows together. “Of course.” He hadn’t read too much into the question. He did like you. You weren’t just easy on the eyes, but you were great company too. That was the only reason he didn’t mind lending their apartment to you as a second home, he enjoyed being around you.

You let out an exaggerated aww after he answered. “I like you too, Reiner.”

Reiner chuckled, shaking his head, but inside he was telling his heart to calm down. You didn’t mean it like that.

Eren hummed absentmindedly, swaying side to side slowly while you rocked along to his movement.

“Do you wanna fuck her?”

Reiner gripped the bag in his hand tightly, and his smile faltered in shock, reeling from the bombshell of Eren’s question. “What?” Did he hear him correctly?

You looked just as surprised, exclaiming your boyfriend’s name and craning your neck to look at him.

“I’m kidding,” he dismissed, but Reiner could tell he wasn’t from the way Eren’s eyes didn’t waver from him.

What Reiner didn’t know was that Eren had caught onto him. He’d known for a while, which was why he was particularly touchy with you around Reiner, showing you off, not caring whether you walked around their apartment scarcely dressed, it was because Eren enjoyed having something that someone else wanted. He saw the way his roommate acted around his girlfriend, reserved and quiet, more than he usually was, and he even noticed the way Reiner’s eyes dipped down to your chest in the moment because Eren was exceptional at paying attention to detail.

You must have detected how uncomfortable Reiner felt because you delivered a brief jab to Eren’s ribs with your elbow.

“Eren, that’s not fucking funny,” you chided. “Do I need to put you in time out?”

“It’s fine,” Reiner interrupted quickly. He didn’t want you defending him because you were oblivious. It only made the situation more embarrassing than it already was since, truthfully, the thought had crossed his mind more than once.

Eren reiterated his question, eyes narrowed at Reiner. “So do you?”

You sighed heavily and looked at Reiner apologetically. He could feel his face growing hot, and he prayed it wasn’t obvious he was as flushed as he felt. He just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

Reiner released a humourless chuckle. “Grow up, Eren.” He slipped past the two of you, but he didn’t get far.

“I’m only asking because I’m feeling charitable. You wouldn’t mind, would you baby?”

Reiner could hear Eren pressing a series of ticklish kisses against your skin, causing you to laugh through your answer.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind if Reiner doesn’t mind.”

Reiner brought his teeth down hard on the tip of his tongue. He was surprised that Eren was so secure in his relationship that he would willingly allow another man to have his way with his girlfriend. He wasn’t sure if his suggestion was insane or ingenious, because Eren had taken control of the one thing that threatened any relationship: infidelity, something so unvirtuous wouldn’t stop him from loving you. You and Eren were so committed to each other that a simple fuck meant nothing.

Reiner hesitated, but figured an opportunity like this was rare. He had both Eren’s permission and yours, yet he still didn’t believe his sincerity until you were in Eren’s room, starting to strip out of your clothes.

His chestnut eyes drifted over to Eren, slouched lazily in the chair he casually pulled out from his desk. “You’re gonna watch?”

Eren lifted a thick eyebrow, resting his thumb under his chin with an index finger against his cheek, looking unimpressed by Reiner’s obvious reservations. “You think I’d let you fuck my girlfriend without me here?”

Reiner slid a tense hand over the back of his neck, rubbing away the uncomfortable heat that creeped up his back and diffused to the tips of his ears. He figured that was reasonable considering the circumstances, after all, he was only fucking you because Eren had allowed it.

There was nothing more intoxicating to Reiner than your bare form, scanty pink lace clinging to your hips the only thing preventing you from being completely naked in front of him. His gaze dipped from your simpering smile down to your collarbones and then down to your breasts, perfectly sculpted to your figure.

Reiner made no efforts to move despite his insatiable urge to grab you in his arms and make certain that you were left satisfied. He feared he’d look too eager to Eren who was observing from the sidelines, but you paid little attention to your audience of one as you sauntered towards Reiner, closer and closer, until your arms slid around his neck and you pressed your chest to his torso.

Reiner’s body was strung so tightly, he was afraid he might snap. It seemed you took notice of the way his muscles tensed once your delicate fingers ghosted over the nape of his neck because your suggestive expression waned, and instead, your eyebrows creased with sincere concern.

“You okay?”

He couldn’t respond, but to be fair, it was because his heart was hammering against his chest and he wasn’t sure how to make it stop. He looked over at Eren again, who, fortunately, didn’t seem to pay much attention to him. Instead, your boyfriend’s stare was fixed on your backside, likely admiring how luscious you looked from his perspective.

“I’m over here.” You laughed and pressed a gentle finger to Reiner’s chin, redirecting his focus back to you. “Just relax.”

He swallowed, chuckling to soothe his unease. “I’m trying.”

Reiner wasn’t sure why he felt so unassertive in your presence. He didn’t hold a record like Eren did, but he also wasn't abstinent by any means. This, though, felt different. He was dealing with several months of pent-up sexual frustration that could only be satisfied by you and no one else. He knew because he’d tried.

Reiner drew in a ragged breath as you leaned into him, breathing heavily through his mouth until you closed the space in between you two, then he continued breathing heavily through his nose. At first, he made no efforts to close his eyes, afraid that the imagery in front of him was a mirage inspired by his own imagination and would disappear if he so much as blinked. His lips were timid, body taut under your touch, but you seduced his mouth, reining him in until he melted into the kiss.

He pushed back against you with fervor and desperation, outlining the shape of your bottom lip with his tongue before nipping at the soft flesh. You released a quiet whimper, intensifying the lust swelling in the pit of his stomach, and Reiner forced his tongue past your teeth, claiming your mouth while his wandering hands settled audaciously against your ass.

Your hands slid over his shoulders and crafted biceps until they tugged hastily against the hem of his shirt, and Reiner immediately understood your cue, withdrawing his mouth from yours to give himself just enough time to slip out of it. He dipped down again to deliver another kiss, but he was deterred by the feeling of your palm against his chest.

“What? Is something wrong?” he questioned quickly, eyes darting back and forth between your hand and your face, worried that he’d done something to overstep your boundaries.

Instead of the troubled expression he expected, you looked rather intrigued. Perhaps impressed was the better word. Your curiosity was held by Reiner’s physique, a living work of art. Eager fingers traveled down the built ripples of his abdomen, chuckling once you felt his muscles flex under your touch.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathed. “Nice, Braun.”

A snicker emitted from the corner. This, miraculously, Eren allowed.

Reiner's mouth quirked upward in a subtle smile before he surrounded you with his arm, pulling you in for another kiss. He walked you backwards until you collapsed onto the mattress, and he fell on top of you, strong forearms holding up his weight. It was then that Reiner realized he allowed his lust to win in the war against himself.

He pulled away to recover his breath, winded pants fanning over your face. His surveying eyes searched yours before they lowered to your swollen lips. God, you were even more mesmerizing up close, heavy-lidded and studying him through a curtain of eyelashes. Maybe for once Reiner would admit he was jealous of Eren. He was fucking envious, bitter, and spiteful that you were his. He’d been a goddamn idiot to let things go this far, agreeing to Eren’s offer, because he knew one fuck wouldn’t be enough to fufill his need for you. He’d barely gotten a taste, and he could already promise that nothing would ever compare to this.

He found your throat and pressed a fleeting kiss to your pulse, moving further down until his lips met your collarbone. He nipped at the delicate skin, taking notice of the way your grip in his hair tightened. His eyebrows arched while he peered up at you, delighting in the way your head rolled back and forth against the duvet. He really wanted to suck at your skin, leaving dark bruises that decorated the path from your earlobe down to your breastbone, but he knew Eren would kill him.

Reiner dipped lower until his lips brushed lightly against your beaded nipple. You made a small sound of protest, but held his head closer, letting him know what you really wanted. His heart beat erratically against his ribcage as he curved a large hand around your right breast and suppressed a groan, but you released a breathy whimper.

He could feel the sound wreaking havoc in his brain. His balls were so damn tight, it would take barely any effort for him to cum, but he wanted to prolong your coupling as long as possible. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance like this.  

His thumb ran over the erect peaks of your breasts, captivated by the magic of watching your back arch and your body become aroused under his touch. He dipped a finger into his mouth, glazing it with his saliva before using it to flick back and forth at your nipple.

“Fuck, Reiner,” you mewled.

Reiner replaced his hand with his lips, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth. The tip of his tongue swirled around it, coating it generously with his spit, while you made no attempts to conceal your intense cries of pleasure.  

Eren released an entertained sigh, swiveling back and forth in his chair. “She whines like a bitch, doesn’t she?”

Shit. Reiner had almost forgotten he was there, but he still released a hungry grunt in agreement, sending vibrations over your chest. He tugged at your nipple with his teeth, releasing it, and then soothing the sting with the flat side of his tongue.

He trailed down your abdomen, pressing hard wet kisses and stopping to leave a quick lick to your navel. He grinned against your skin when you gripped the sheets and breathed his name again, this time quieter, as if you meant it only for his ears. He liked to think so.

Once he reached the waistband of your panties, he licked along the fabric, immobilizing your rolling hips with strong hands.

“Enough with the theatrics, Reiner. Just do it already,” Eren groaned, sounding irate.

Reiner assumed Eren’s groan was only to stress his impatience, but once he looked over to him, he realized he wasn’t just giving directives from the sidelines. His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth, and his hand was moving steadily against the noticeable tent in his sweatpants.

He was enjoying this just as much as Reiner was, getting off to the sight of his girlfriend under another man, his roommate nonetheless.

Reiner suddenly felt strange. What the hell was he doing providing entertainment for Eren?

“Reiner,” your needy voice pulled him out of his reflection. His attention drifted back to you, watching while you propped yourself up on your elbows and slid your unsteady hands over your chest to tweak your own nipples, as if you were trying to hold yourself over.

He wished you hadn’t looked so tempting, even with your disheveled hair and sweaty skin, your vulnerable eyes fixated on him, and he was powerless.

Reiner hooked his fingers around your underwear, kissing a trail down the inside of your thighs as he pulled your panties down to your ankles before slipping them off and letting them pool on the floor.

“Spread wide baby, let him see that pretty pussy,” Eren stirred, cock now thrust out the top of his grey sweats and his swollen tip glistening with precum. His hand was wrapped firmly around his stiff length, moving slow while his breathing quickened.

For once, Reiner agreed with him, and he pressed his fingers into your thighs to aid you in parting your legs. Your pussy was slick with your own arousal, squelching as you tightened around nothing. You were even prettier than he’d imagined.

“Fuck,” Reiner breathed, extending two fingers to part your folds. Was he still sure he wasn’t dreaming?

He wrapped his built arms around your legs, pulled you closer, and lowered his head. He fixed his lips to your swollen clit, allowing his tongue to lap and circle around the tender bud every few seconds.

“Oh my god,” you cried, writhing against the sheets.

If he hadn’t secured your legs in his grip, he was certain you would have smothered him between your thighs out of reflex. He could detect the way you fought against his hold, but he far overpowered you in strength.

When he plunged his tongue inside you without notice, that was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You pulled on the sheets with a frenzied grip, producing a shrill cry your neighbors had certainly heard. There was no doubt about it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you murmured, chest expanding and falling with labored breaths.

Reiner wanted to spend a few more generous minutes tasting you, he couldn’t get enough, but he also wasn’t sure how much longer he would last. His cock was hot and hard in his pants, and he needed to feel you around him. Even if Eren wouldn’t let him cum inside of you, he needed to experience at least that much.

He rose to his feet, working quickly against his pants’ zipper while trying not to tease himself by looking at you. He was worried the mere sight of you on the bed, spread and ready for him would be enough to bring him to a climax, but he’d made the mistake of looking at you anyways, hand between your legs, delicate fingers rubbing at your clit while you stared up at him.

Fucking hell. Kill me. Reiner thought. Fuck. He felt the throbbing heat of his cock, and he wished you wouldn’t look at him like that. He really wished you wouldn’t look at him like that.

“Look at her, so desperate to be filled. It’s almost pathetic,” Eren laughed, but it was clear he was feeling your effect too. He lolled his head forward, long brown hair spilling over his shoulders and obscuring his face while his palm worked fast against his cock.

Shut up, Reiner thought. His head was growing hazy, and he couldn’t think. He needed to be inside you, and he couldn’t wait a second longer.

Reiner let himself free while his pants and underwear hung low around his knees. He couldn’t even find time to delight in the way your face melted into bliss once you laid eyes on his thick cock, leaking precum in sinful amounts because all he could think about was his ache. He leaned over you, positioning himself at your entrance.

He’d been waiting for this for so goddamn long.

Reiner exhaled when you said his name again, hips undulating against his cock and wet folds stroking his tip. He watched as he pushed himself into you, filling you to the hilt, and once he was inside he hung his head forward, eyes shut tightly in a painful sort of ecstasy.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Reiner grunted breathlessly.

He groaned, pinning your hips down with his once you attempted to fuck yourself onto his cock.

“Stop moving,” he pleaded. “Jesus christ--please don’t move.” He stayed still for a moment, waiting until his sensitivity subsided before he started rocking his hips against you slowly.

Reiner couldn’t dedicate his focus to anything other than the feeling of your slick walls clenching around his cock every time he pulled out, and the way he stretched you out every time he thrusted back in. He wondered if you could feel the depth of his desire.

“Harder,” you whispered once, and then begged louder. “Reiner please, fuck me harder.”

At first, Reiner was worried. He wanted to be gentle, he wanted to savor you, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt you, but your request had him picking up the pace, ramming into you until the familiar slapping sound of sweaty skin filled the room.  

You unraveled and became completely undone, letting out loud moans every time he drove his cock into you. Reiner thought the sound was incredibly euphonic as it fell upon his ears. You were like this because of him.

“How’s this?” His voice was husky and deep beside your ear.

Reiner was pleased by your lack of response. You could only nod, overwhelmed by the dual sensation brought on by him and the feeling of your quick fingers against your clit. You secured an arm around his neck again and wrapped your legs around his torso, clinging to him like he was all you needed. He wished that was how you really felt.

“Close…,” you murmured, and Reiner deduced you were warning him that you were near your orgasm. He could tell by the way your walls began to spasm.

Reiner felt the small of his back tighten, and he knew he was close too. He was torn between his release and holding himself back, not ready for this to end just yet, but his body betrayed him and he felt his cock twitch inside you.

Luckily, you reached your climax first, and Reiner watched in awe as your body seized underneath him, breasts bobbing with every jolt while you worked your clit into overstimulation. It wasn’t long after your orgasm that he made his last rueful thrusts. He quickly pulled out and clasped himself in the curve of his hand. He pumped his length until he released in quick spurts onto your stomach, covering you in his hot seed, and he kept pumping until he made sure he emptied himself of every drop.

His eyes quickly darted over to Eren, not to be odd or anything, but again, he had forgotten he was there. It seemed Eren had already satisfied himself. The creamy, white liquid decorating the bare skin of his abdomen and dribbling down his loose fist was evidence of that. Now that he had appeased his urges, he seemed disinterested as he reached over his desk and plucked a few tissues to clean himself up.

Reiner collapsed beside you, listening to the loud thudding of his heart as it delivered a few ecstatic beats while he caught his breath and began to calm down. He stared at the pivoting fan blades, and then his eyes dropped down to you lying next to him, sweaty and fucked out.

You were laying there with him, and goddammit he wanted to reach his arms out and wrap them around you, pulling you close so he could hold you and feel your heartbeat against his chest. He’d press kisses to your salty forehead, and then tell you how much he loved you. He wanted to stay like this.

Reiner's ideal vision dissolved once Eren stopped at the edge of the bed and extended his hand for you to grab.

“You wanna join me for a shower, baby?” Eren asked.

Of course, you took it, allowing him to support you until you were sitting up.

You released an exhausted laugh. “Yes, please.” You then turned to Reiner and arched your eyebrow in surprise. “By the way, not bad, Braun.”

Reiner gave you a small smile in return, but said nothing as he watched you cover your breasts with your arm and let Eren hoist you off the bed. You two slid past him and headed out of the room, but not without Eren looking back over his shoulder, shooting Reiner a shit-eating grin, as though reminding him who you’d always belong to.

[rezzyromance]

Maybe if you have the time could you do a part 2 to the heisenberg diary one? It's really cute :3

Absolutely! Ask and you shall receive!

(If you are looking for Part 1 you can find it here. Thanks.)

Part 2 Of Karl finding the readers diary

(CW: Sex) NSFW +18

Hey guys! So many of you requested for a part 2 and honestly it made my day. As someone who doesn't write smut often, I am definitely not well versed in all the different "types". That being said, I'm definitely not confident enough to tackle male on male sexual scenarios yet. I try to keep all of my stories gender neutral unless asked for differently, but I have no clue how to write gender neutral sex. With all that being said, the sex that happens in this story will present the reader as someone with female anatomy. I'm sorry if this isn't what some of you were looking for. I will be writing sexual stories in the future where the reader is male, but I'll need time. So sorry for the inconvenience and I hope this doesn't disappoint.- R

After you were sure Karl was far away from the door, you run to shut it, feeling ashamed of your secret being found out. You almost feel like you could cry out of embarrassment. You let out a sigh and begin to get dressed in the clothing he previously grabbed for you. Once you're dressed, you curl up on the bed and try to gather your thoughts and emotions. Obviously he wasn't upset about your feelings. So, does that mean he doesn't hate you or think of you any less? What does this mean for your future? Can you even look at him after this? You groan and shove your face into your pillow.

Meanwhile, he was in his workshop, grinning ear to ear. He wanted to keep teasing you, seeing how far he could push you, but at the same time he didn't want to genuinely make you uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted was to drive you away, especially now that he's starting to feel strange. Could he possibly be falling for you too? He ignores this thought and begins to work on a new project, a gift for you.

A few hours go by and you haven't left the bd. You hear a knock on the door and stay silent, still embarrassed about the whole situation. The door slowly opens and Karl peaks through. "Hey.. wanna talk?", he asks awkwardly. "No." "Good because I'm shit with words.", he opens the door completely and begins to walk towards you with a hand suspiciously behind his back. "Did you come in here just to fuck with me again?", you snap, sitting up and resting your back against the headboard. He smiles at your attitude and sits beside you on the bed. "Well, I'm very tempted to. But, I came here to give you this.", he moves the hand behind his back to the front, handing you a gift. It was a little metal figure of your favorite animal that he just made.

You take it into your hands and hold it, gazing upon every detail. Why would he make you something so nice? Especially after he learned how you felt? Could this be some type of confession on his part?

You hold the little metal animal close and and look up at him. He was staring at your face the whole time, analyzing your reaction. A smile slowly formed on your face and you move forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hug him. This caught him off guard and his mouth slightly gapes open. Positive physical contact was a foreign concept to him, but he loved it. He moves a hand and places it on your back. "Thank you so much, Karl. I love it." "No problem, Buttercup."

Your face grows so hot from the sudden new nickname that he can feel the heat radiating off of you. You pull away and he chuckles at your blushed face. "You're so easy to make flustered." he says. His words make you cross your arms and look away. "Oh shut up!", you hiss. His face doesn't change from its usual smug look. "Why don't you make me?", he hums. You snap your face towards his, shocked at his boldness. "I know you want to. In fact, I know you want a lot more than just that. You made it pretty clear in those pages. So tell me (Y/N), is it true? Do you really want me that badly?"

You feel as if you've stopped breathing. You're frozen in place, stuck in the middle of wanting to kiss him and wanting to slap him. Your silence only makes him smile bigger as he watches you grow more and more flustered. "You don't have to be shy. Though it's really cute that you are.", you watch as his gloved hand extends towards your face, gently gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger.

He leans in closer, almost grazing your lips with his. His eyes are fixed on your red face, burning into your soul. "What do you want?", he hums. You can barely hear him over the sound of your own heartbeat. "I want you.", you finally whisper. "That's what I thought.", he grins and breaks the distance between the both of you by placing his lips to yours. You don't fight it and instead lean into it, intertwining your fingers in his hair eagerly. You feel him smile against your lips and his hand moves from your chin to your waist, causing you to flinch under his touch.

He pulls away but keeps his face close to yours. "I take it that you're not as pissed as I thought, right?", he snickers. "No I'm still pretty pissed at you." you say as you try to stifle a smile. "If that's the case then you must want me to just get up and leave you alone.", his body begins to shift away and you grip onto his coat. "Wow you're even more needy in real life than you are on paper." You tug on his coat harder, signaling for him to get closer.

He responds by taking his coat off completely and throwing it to the side. With his back now to the headboard and his legs outstretched in front of him, you crawl over to him and straddle his lap. You look at his face and begin to rub your thumb over the scar on his lip. The scar you had mentioned as your favorite. He goes to kiss your finger, but you move it away. "Aw come on. I won't bite. Even if you feel like I'm the predator to your prey.", he teases. "Shit, he really did read my diary huh.", you think to yourself. He could tell what you were thinking as your face grew more and more flushed. "Now don't get all embarrassed on me now. The fun's just getting started. After all, all you want is me, right?", he places his hands gently on your lower back, slowly lowering them towards your ass as he scans your face, making sure you're still okay. "You're quoting it like it's scripture.", you smile. "They might as well be. Good words to live by."

You smile and place your hands on his shoulders, leaning over to kiss him once again. While you were still nervous, you decided to let a little of your anxiety drift away as you grow more and more comfortable. You begin to unbuckle his pants and pull on his shirt, untucking it. He pulls away from you to help you out and completely removes his shirt, throwing it close to his coat. The kiss resumes as you fiddle with the button of his pants, finally unbottoning them.

Suddenly, he grips your waist and tosses you lightly to the side. He gets off of the bed and pulls you closer to him with your legs, causing you to squeal. An idiotic smile is plastered across his face as he unbottons your pants effortlessly. His fierce eyes had a glimmer in them that caused goosebumps to rise all over your skin. Soon, your pants are completely pulled off. He pulls your legs again, causing the lower half of your body to be dangling off the side of the bed. You wrap your legs around him and he leans down, placing messy kisses across your neck. Breathy moans leave your lips as you feel his bulge sit against your now barely clothed privates.

You look up at the sight in front of you. You could see each and every scar that laid on his skin in so much more detail than before. He watched your eyes wander around his body and felt his pride somehow grow stronger as you grew more and more flustered. With one hand, he begins to rub one of your thighs, with the other, he slides up inside your sweater and begins to fondle your breast. He made sure to show some extra attention to your nipple, using his rough and calloused fingers to play with it as you squirmed and whined. "Alright. Enough fucking around.", his hands leave your skin. All it took was a second for your body to miss his touch. Now, his hands were fondling with his pants, unbuttoning and removing them.

The sight you were met with was intimidating. You lifted your head up and swallowed anxiously. His bulge was so big you could almost see the details of his cock as it was pressed against the fabric of his boxers. The tip was peaking out from the waistline, leaking a few drops of precum. You clutch the sheets beneath you in anxious anticipation. He takes a few steps to go back to his previous position of entanglement with you. Even though he didn't have to take many steps, maybe 3 or 4 at most, he walked with a confident stride that both terrified you and brought a smile to your face.

"What's with the grin? You want me to fuck you that bad?", he moves his hands back under your sweater and begins to grope each of your breasts. You nod, too flustered and shy to verbally say yes. "Aw come on. That's all you got?", he leans forward slightly to place his hand on your throat, applying pressure to each side of your neck. "I want to hear you beg for it.", he begins to rub his bulge against your soaked panties. Your legs twitch slightly as you stumble on your words. "Pl-please...", you manage to say. "What do you want?", he squeezes harder, enough to cause your body to tense up but not enough to actually cause any harmful lack of airflow. "I want you.. to f-fuck me... please..", you say. "Good girl.", he lets go of your throat and begins to pull his boxers down to his knees.

You take a deep breath as you feel his tip graze your entrance. Suddenly, your breath hitches as your whole body is pulled towards him, causing you to take almost all of him in at once. You gasp and he looks at your face, making sure your pleasure was overpowering the pain. Once he knows for sure that you're okay, he pushes the rest of him in. With his dick now fully lubricated with your wetness, he grips your thighs and begins to pound into you.

You grip onto the sheets for dear life as you feel him stretch you. You can hear him grunting under his breath with each thrust. His movements were brutal. You felt like you could feel him in your stomach, intruding on your organs as they tied in knots. Without stopping, he leans down again to nip at the skin of your neck.

You whimper under his teeth, knowing he plans on leaving marks for you to discover later. "You like this? Is this what you fantasized?", he switches in between kissing and biting all over your neck. "Mhm", you whimper. His face moves lower, traveling to your breast. He begins to nibble at your sensitive nipple. You wrap your arms around him and respond with a loud moan as you dig your nails into his back. He winces, but enjoys the feeling.

He continues to restlessly pound into you. The air is filled with moans, whines, grunts, slurred swears, and the sound of your skin slapping against his. He moves his hand in-between your legs, placing his thumb against your clit. This simple action alone is enough to make your whole body jolt. He continues to rub it, watching and listening closely to figure out what works best on you. He sticks to whatever makes you scream the louds and grip onto him the hardest. Your body shakes beneath him as it is overstimulated with pleasure, close to reaching it's peak.

He abrupt stops and pulls out. Before you begin to complain, he makes his way onto the bed and sits up, wiggling his fingers breathlessly to signal for you. "Come here.", he says. Once you're in reaching distance, he grabs you by the arms and pulls you closer. You sit down on his cock, dying for more. You both moan, nearly harmonizing as you take in his girth. "Bounce on it. I know you want it.", he says. You do as he says and begin to bounce up and down, feeling your walls squeeze onto his hard, throbbing erection. "Aw fuck yeah.", he moans and lays his head back, closing his eyes tightly as you use him to fuck your brains out. He opens them again to look at your boobs. It's almost hypnotizing to him the way they bounce. "Aw fuck.. look at you.. so desperate to cum.", he says in-between deep, breathy moans. "Bouncing on my cock like a good little whore. Show me how much you want it.", he slaps your ass hard. You pick up the pace after gasping from his harsh hit, your ass cheek stinging from where his hand struck.

He leaned forward and began to bite on different parts of you boobs, leaving soon-to-be hickeys all over your chest. This makes your knees weak. Your legs shake as you struggle to continue to ride out your high. You could tell by the way that your insides burned and ached that you were so close to cumming, but you were even closer to running out of steam. He could see your struggles, so he decided to help out. He grips you harshly by the hips and begins to thrust upwards, slamming right into the spot you so desperately wanted to be touched. To be obliterated. You threw your head back, so filled with overwhelming passion that your moan came out completely silent. "Come on. Cum all over my dick. Just like you always wanted.", he says between gritted teeth. You tangle your fingers in his hair and begin to tug on his silver locks. While it does hurt, he loves it, and continues to pound into your sweetspot.

"F-fuck I'm gonna ...c- cu", you can't even finish your sentence before you gush beneath him. Your legs shake violently as he continues to pound into you. Soon, he cums aswell. He loosens his grip on your hips and you begin to rise off of his dick. You're so shaky that you can barely move, so he wraps one arm around your back and gently places a hand behind your head, laying your face down on his chest. "Just rest for a sec." , he says while panting. You nod and lay down as he says. You were both hot and sweaty, but your skin felt perfect against each other. After a few seconds of you both catching your breath, he raises your hips up, letting his dick fall out of you and onto him. He then lowers you back down and continues to hold you.

"So.. will you be adding a new chapter to that little book of yours tonight?", he chuckles. "...fuck off.", he smiles at your response and places a kiss on your head. "Will things... be different between us now that you know?", you ask, nervous about how he'll react. "Well.. I think they will. But if we get to do this more often then I don't mind." You then hold each other for what feels like forever. Melting into each other and your newly mutual feelings.

[fridayfirefly]

All For The Investigation

Read All For The Investigation on AO3

Masterlist

By Tim’s calculations, there was an 87% certain that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the Parisian former hero Ladybug. However, 87% was not 100%, so Bruce required further investigation. Damian was stuck with the job.

Except, Damian knew that stuck wasn't exactly the right word. Stuck implied that he was displeased with the situation. Damian wasn't displeased. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the most pleasant person in all of Gotham Academy. If Damian had to choose anyone to be forced to spend time with, he would choose Marinette. Though he grumbled about being forced to spend time with plebeians (for the benefit of his brothers, who would mercilessly tease Damian if they even suspected that he had a crush), Damian was quite pleased by the assignment.

Given that Marinette was in his history class, it was quite easy to arrange a situation in which they were forced to be in each others' proximities. When their teacher announced that there would be an upcoming group project with randomly assigned partnerships, it was simple for Damian to break into her office and switch around some of the names. When the partnerships were announced and Marinette and Damian were paired together, Damian made his move.

"Dupain-Cheng, if you would like to work on the project over the weekend, we can do so at my house."

"Sounds good, Wayne, but you know, you can just call me Marinette," said Marinette with a smile.

Damian felt flustered, which was a very bad sign. He never felt anything less than perfectly composed. "Then you may call me Damian."

Marinette's smile got even bigger. There was a feeling in his chest that, had it been caused by anyone else, Damian would have suspected it to be a complication of the broken ribs from Joker's last attack. "Let me give you my number, and we can plan a meeting this weekend. Would Saturday work for you?"

Damian nodded as he handed Marinette his phone. "My schedule is free on Saturday."

"Great!" chirped Marinette. She plugged in her number, then posed for a picture, explaining that it was, "For the contact photo."

And if in the privacy of his bedroom, Damian stared at that contact photo for twenty-minutes straight, it was just for research purposes. Just to compare Marinette's facial structure to that of Ladybug. Completely normal investigative business.

The next morning, Damian found his way to the bedroom of his most tolerable brother. "Grayson. Can I confide in you without any of the information getting to anyone else?"

Richard glanced up from his laptop. "Sure thing, Baby Bird." He patted a spot on the bed next to him,

"Don't call me that. I despise nicknames," grumbled Damian. He took a seat, staring at the wall in front of him, still weighing the risk versus reward of talking to Richard. If his brother had some technique for extinguishing romantic interest it would solve Damian's problem. However, if either Drake or Todd got word of Damian's crush there was no doubt in Damian's mind that they would never let him hear the end of it.

"So what's on your mind?"

"It pertains to the girl in my who Drake suspects to be Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She has become difficult to investigate. I have found myself unable to observe her objectively."

Richard frowned. "I'm not sure I know what you mean. Is it something that she did that's bothering you?"

Damian searched for the right words to explain the situation. He was not usually so tongue-tied, but the proper words seemed to escape him at every turn. "Dupain-Cheng is not what I expected. I assumed that it would be a simple task, to observe her and determine whether she has any connection to the Parisian superhero. However, I have found it difficult to concentrate on my mission when I am around her."

"You find it difficult to concentrate when you're around her. How so?"

Damian gritted his teeth. He didn't want to spell out his crush so obviously, but Richard seemed incapable of looking between the lines. "I have found myself preoccupied with trivial things like getting to know her personality, rather than investigating her background. She makes me feel... flustered."

Damian could see the moment that Richard made the connection. His brother's face lit up as he exclaimed, "You have a crush on her?!"

"Quiet!" snapped Damian. "This does not leave this room. I need to learn how to get rid of it, so I can get back to completing the mission."

Richard was grinning ear to ear. "That's not how crushes work. You can't just snap your fingers and have them disappear. The only thing that can get rid of a crush is time. Or sometimes if they get a haircut that kills the feeling. But mostly it just takes time."

"I cannot afford to wait for these feelings to fade. I'll look into scheduling her a haircut." Damian stood up, resolved to get rid of his crush before Marinette came over later that day to work on their project.

"No wait," Richard grabbed Damian's arm. "I doubt that your attraction to her is so shallow that a haircut would destroy the feelings you have for her. This is something that you'll have to talk to her about."

Damian frowned. "Perhaps I should give the mission to someone else. Jon could transfer to Gotham Academy for the semester. His detective skills are lacking but his judgment would be less clouded than mine. If I ignore her for long enough I'm sure that I can evade talking about my feelings."

"Why don't you just ignore the mission for a few weeks while you get to know her."

Damian fixed Richard with a death glare. "I cannot ignore this mission. Father gave it to me personally."

"How about twenty-four hours? You spend the next twenty-four hours in getting-to-know-her mode rather than background-check mode and at the end of it, we can regroup and decide what to do next. If you actually get to know her, you'll better understand the depths of your feelings. Once you have that understanding, you'll be able to see if waiting out your crush is a viable option or if you need to pass on the responsibilities to someone else."

It wasn't the perfect solution, but it was better than anything Damian had come up with. Anything that could potentially alleviate Damian's inability to focus on the investigation was worth trying. "Fine," Damian replied curtly. "Thank you for your assistance."

"No problem," said Richard. "You know, I would love to get to meet Marinette sometime."

"Don't push your luck," grumbled Damian, ignoring Richard's laughter as he stood up and left the room. There would be no way to hide the fact that Marinette was coming over to the Manor from his family. There was also no way that his family wouldn't intrude upon Damian and Marinette as they worked. However, if he explained everything beforehand and phrased everything in precisely the right way, he might be able to pass off his odd behavior towards Marinette as a part of his investigation. Damian pulled out his phone and composed a text to send to the family groupchat.

Damian: Dupain-Cheng is coming to the Manor at approximately 22:00 to work on a history project. I will be covertly conducting my investigation. From what I have gathered, she would respond better to subtle questioning, rather than a straightforward interrogation.

Tim: wait does subtle interrogation mean that you'll be flirting with her???

Jason: I need to see this

Steph: I'm willing to bet money that his flirting offends Marinette so much she storms out of the Manor before Damian can finish the mission

Dick: No way. I'll bet 20 dollars that his flirting works too well

Steph: done

Damian huffed, half tempted to call off his meeting with Marinette. His siblings were insufferable.

Damian: Please refrain from intervening. Confirming that Dupain-Cheng is Ladybug is a vital first step in determining whether the Justice League needs to interfere in the affairs of the Order of the Miraculous.

Bruce: Damian is correct. No one will bother him while he is working with Marinette.

Damian smirked as he turned his phone off. His plan wasn't foolproof, of course, but a direct order from Bruce to not interfere would force his siblings to be more subtle about spying on him and Marinette. The chance of him being interrupted was significantly decreased.

Damian got everything set up in the den, which was only ever used on family movie night. It was perfectly situated for the task at hand - a room small enough to be classed as cozy but big enough to not feel cramped. It was out of the way, surrounded by other equally unused rooms, so his siblings would have no excuse for lurking in the hallway outside. Damian brought in snacks, chargers, and a few books from the Wayne Manor library on Renaissance Art, the topic of their project.

Marinette arrived promptly at 2 in the afternoon, holding a Tupperware container full of gingerbread cookies, with a smile on her face. "Hi, Damian. I brought cookies."

None of his planning accounted for this moment, for first laying eyes on Marinette. Damian froze up, desperate to put the right words in the right order. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, Marinette. I have everything set up in the den if you'll just follow me."

"Sure." Marinette toed off her black boots and arranged them on the shoe tray next to the door. She was left in sage green cat-print socks that matched the rest of her outfit, a pine green sweater and black jeans. Damian couldn't help but wonder if she knit the sweater herself - Marinette's talent for designing was well-known throughout Gotham Academy, as it was what got her accepted into the prestigious high school in the first place.

Marinette followed Damian through the Manor, complimenting little details that Damian had never noticed before - the pattern of the curtains, the bay window in a sitting room that Damian had never bothered to enter, the family pictures that lined the wall in the hallway. Marinette made it seem so obvious to pay attention to those little details. Damian wished that he could see the Manor for the first time through her eyes and feel the same amazement that she felt as she oohed and awed over the decadence that Damian had considered banal.

Damian was so captivated by Marinette that he almost missed the fact that Drake and Brown were lurking in the study across the hall from the den. A text to his father about the gravity of his mission would be enough to get them sent away on some inconsequential but time-consuming task. Damian would have to find an inconspicuous time to pull out his phone during their work on the project to let his father know about their intrusion.

"Now I know why you call it Wayne Manor. This place is huge." Marinette shrugged off her backpack and set it down on the coffee table next to her container of cookies.

"Its size is entirely unnecessary for ordinary life," agreed Damian. "However, it makes for very challenging games of hide-and-seek."

Marinette giggled. "That sounds like fun. You'll have to invite me next time you play."

"I'll make sure of it." Damian smiled, surprised to find that his happiness wasn't forced. He rarely engaged in childish behavior, and even more rarely did he find any enjoyment in it. Yet the mental image of playing a child's game with Marinette was pleasant to him. The feelings he had for her were deeper than Damian anticipated.

The pair got to work on their project. Damian sent out the text to his father as soon as he opened his laptop, leaving Marinette under the impression that he was researching sources. A series of irritable texts in the family groupchat confirmed the fact that Drake and Brown had been removed from their hiding spot.

"Do you want to try a cookie?" asked Marinette, pushing the Tupperware towards Damian.

"Thank you." Damian took one, just to be polite. Growing up in the League of Assassins, he never really had a taste for sweets. Alfred's baking was the extent of what he would tolerate. He took a bite - small, to back up his claim that he already ate if it turned out to be inedible. Surprisingly, it was nearly as good as Alfred's gingerbread cookies, and those were tailer made to Damian's taste. The cookies were heavy on the ginger and cloves, just as Damian liked. "These are delicious," Damian professed.

Marinette blushed. "Thanks. I know they taste a little different than store-bought gingerbread. My parents make them with a lot of ginger."

"These are much superior to store-bought cookies."

"Thanks. You know, you're a lot nicer outside of school. You always seemed kind of grumpy in class."

"I'm not a fan of the state-mandated curriculum."

Marinette nodded. "I get what you mean. I barely have any room in my schedule for my design classes, with all the mandatory classes that Gotham Academy makes us take. I'm lucky that I have my internship, otherwise, I think I would go crazy, taking so many classes that I don't care about."

"Your internship is with Audrey Bourgeoise, isn't it?"

Marinette nodded. "I was friends with her daughter, back in Paris. Originally it was going to be a four-year internship in New York City, but I renegotiated some of the terms so that I could do the first two years in Paris, then the last two in Gotham, while she established the new branch of her company."

"You renegotiated the terms of a prestigious internship at the age of fourteen? Weren't you afraid of losing it if you pushed too hard?"

Marinette shrugged, nonchalant as if it were normal for an intern to make such a bold move. "I didn't want to leave Paris. My whole life was there. I wasn't ready to just pick up and move to a new country."

"What changed that you were able to come to Gotham?"

"There were a lot of reasons. Hawkmoth was the biggest one. I felt nervous about leaving my family and friends behind when he was terrorizing the city. After he was defeated I felt a lot more comfortable leaving."

That aligned with the theory that Marinette was Ladybug. "What were the other reasons?"

"My age was one. I didn't feel ready to leave home at fourteen and my parents didn't like the idea of me leaving home that young either. Another big one was the fact that I didn't have a good handle on my personal style. I was worried that designing full-time in Audrey Bourgeoise's office would cause me to lose my originality. The worst thing I could imagine was watering down my designs to appeal to the rest of the fashion industry."

"Your conviction is impressive. Most in your position would not worry about selling out to obtain such a highly coveted position."

"Audrey said the same thing, though when she said it, she spoke it with annoyance, not admiration. I've never been highly motivated by wide-spread success. I don't need to be a household name to feel content with life. I just want to design clothes that I'm proud of."

The fluttering feeling in Damian's chest returned with full force, alongside a tendril of anger at the unfairness of the situation. Here was the most perfect person Damian had ever laid his eyes on, and he was forced to pick her apart piece by piece to figure out her deepest darkest secrets. Damian didn't know much about relationships, but this didn't seem like the way they were supposed to go.

"You look upset," Marinette's observation was tinged by the worry in her voice.

"I'm not upset," he assured her. "I was just wondering how I never noticed how interesting you are."

Marinette flushed, her cheeks turning pink. "What does that mean?"

Damian shrugged. While his nonchalant attitude was all a bluff, his admiration of her accomplishments was all real. "Most of our classmates feel accomplished with the most conventional of achievements. Yet you secured an internship at the side of one of the most renowned fashion critics in the world and you still stay humble about it. You weren't blind-sighted by the incredible opportunity. You fought to maintain your values, no matter if it meant losing something priceless."

Marinette's blush deepened. "That's just who I am. It's not special, it's me."

"It is you," agreed Damian. "And it is special."

Marinette gave him a wide-eyed look, shocked by the emotion in his words. "We should get back to work," she said, self-consciously rubbing one cheek with the sleeve of her green wool sweater.

"Of course," Damian amicably agreed. He had pushed far enough for intel and had managed to get to know her a little better in the process. His flirting wasn't as blatant as it could have been, but it got the job done. Richard had said that once he knew the depths of his feelings he would know what to do. Richard was right. Damian's feelings were seemingly endless, a maze of all the things he liked about Marinette, in which every corner he turned was a new quirk that he couldn't un-notice. Yet Damian didn't want to pass on the responsibility of investigating Marinette to anyone else. He wanted a reason to spend time with her.

It wasn't the best situation. Damian wished that he could get to know her organically. However, Damian wasn't the type to dwell on the could-have-been. He had an opportunity to get to know Marinette right in front of him and he wasn't going to let it go.

Hours later, after Marinette went home, Richard stopped him in the hallway. "So what did you learn?"

"My investigation has proven inconclusive. I need to further get to know Marinette Dupain-Cheng if I want to uncover her identity. For research purposes, of course."

Richard laughed. "Of course."

[adorerdraco]

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 2

PART 1

Summary: PART 2  ! of Draco falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and dealing with the consequences of opening his heart to someone. 

Warnings: angst !!! but just a little fluff as always, BLOOD, violence, more crying, very detailed sectumsempra scene, mentions of death

Words: 4.9K

A/N: omg i can’t believe so many people liked the first one and to everyone who left me a comment, I appreciate you so much you have no idea plsss you guys are so beautiful. but here is part 2 and I hope you guys like it as much as the first oneee !!!!!!!! this one got dramatic. I’m thinking of doing a part 3, but I’m not sure and i also want to make it be mostly fluff so PLS let me knowww <3 i do not own gif. 

It was an awful feeling; the feeling of needing a specific someone to bring him a peace he so very much lacked in his life. It was a feeling of not being able to feel joy unless he had you by his side. He felt stupid and pathetic knowing he had made an even bigger mess of himself and regrettably of you. He felt more weak too, wondering to himself why he couldn’t stop crying and do what he needs to do without several potions or you with him to get him through the day. 

He didn’t want to need anyone. He didn’t want to need help. He didn’t want to need advice.

“Why can’t I just do this?” he cried to himself one night in the room of requirement, kicking something by his foot across the floor in frustration. He stared at the dead bird in hopelessness, not wanting to move it from its spot in the vanishing cabinet. He had managed to send inanimate objects, but not living things and that was only a discovery he was able to make when you were still in his life.

It had been weeks, since he left you under the tree, broken and in tears. He regressed back into to his old ways of lacking proper self care, of sleeping and eating, his studies being the last thing on his mind, him distancing himself from his Slytherin friends again. It was right back to square one, maybe even below that this time.

In Potions, he didn’t dare look at you, ever. He moved to a seat in the very back of the class where he would be hidden from you and could sulk to himself in peace.

“Mr. Malfoy, forgive me as it is none of my business, but why are you no longer working with Miss Y/L/N?” Slughorn asked him one day as he came by to grade his potion.

“It is nothing of concern, Professor,” Draco answered bitterly, holding back the scowl that wanted to show but deciding against being any more rude to authority. “I just rather work by myself.”

“It’s a shame, Mr. Malfoy, you both were my star pupils,” Slughorn mixes the potion around, eyeing it with a frown. “Now the both of you are falling behind. This potion is not passing, you forgot to mix in the dried periwinkle leaves.”

Draco never noticed how you would glance at him throughout Potions class. Of course, he was ignoring you and you felt that nasty realization every time your eyes landed on the platinum blond.

You felt numb, to say the least. You cried for days and days on end. If you weren’t in class, you were in your dorm, wrapped underneath the covers wondering why someone you shared so much love and time with had dropped you with no explanation. You tried endlessly to get him to talk to you, cornering him in the corridors, going up to him in class, but he would ignore you until you went away. He never once met your eyes, and your heart broke more every time you saw the coldness in his icy gray’s that made you feel like you didn’t even exist to him.

Your roommates and friends had gotten involved, forcing you to take better care of yourself. Staying up and hugging you while you cried. Bringing you meals from the Great Hall into the dorm. Brushing your hair when it started to become matted. Encouraging you to divulge yourself in studies rather than your sadness.

“Y/N, you are so much more than what you’re feeling,” your closest friend whispered to you one night as you cried in her embrace. “You can’t keep going like this. It’s okay to cry and be sad, but this is eating you up. Remember how strong you are. Remember the healer you are trying to be. You’ve helped so many people, inside and out, let your friends help you now.”

You nodded sadly, and finally accepted the help your friends had been trying so desperately to give you. You allowed them to take you out into the Great Hall again for meals. To Hogsmead for a fun day out. To the courtyard where you guys would sit and just talk. It was nice, feeling your old and normal life coming to light again even if it was just for a couple hours. But when you couldn’t sleep at night and your mind wandered off to Draco, you felt that same empty feeling of a gaping hole in your heart sting at you. 

There was nothing you could do or say anymore. The cornering him was getting desperate and made you feel weak. The ignoring was never going to stop. You didn’t cry anymore, forcing yourself to bottle up your feelings for him deep down into your mind, body and spirit to the point where you just tried your best to recognize him as a dream. 

Your brain didn’t know any better, right?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Draco sat on the floor of his dorm, head resting against the side of his bed as he twiddled with the letter from his mother between his fingertips. His owl, Aquila, sat beside him and enjoyed the loving pets he was giving her with his other hand. It was rare she let him do this, but he figured it was because she felt that he might have possibly needed this. She nibbled on a crumb of a biscuit he gave her that she had brought with her on her journey from home. Draco sighed and opened the letter again, his eyes scanning over the perfect cursive of his mother’s handwriting once more.

My Dearest Draco,

          How are you, my love? I feel as though we have gone too long without writing to each other. I must say, the Manor feels lonely without you and your father here, but the house elves have been keeping me company. They are quite entertaining, some of them. I do hope you enjoy the small pastries I sent with Aquila that the elves also send on their behalf. 

I know the pain you are feeling, my son. I know it wears at you and I am deeply sorry that I cannot change it or help you. Please do entrust in Professor Snape, as he is the only one who can help you and understands your circumstances. You cannot get through this alone.

Please also remember that you are just a boy. In these times of turmoil, it is easy to lose yourself in your own despair. You are young, Draco, only 16 years of life and it has already failed you. Please find it in your heart to locate the little several joys in life that keep you going. Despite your situation, It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there. Do not succumb, it is what he wants. 

I will always love you, and I hope to see you soon. 

All my love,

Mother

He felt tears sting at his eyes, clutching the letter to his chest as if his mother had charmed it with the feeling of a hug. It wasn’t, but he swore he could feel it. He felt sad, knowing she was all alone in that house, but suddenly remembered that his aunt was seeking refuge with her at the Malfoy Manor and his mother left it out for the sake of keeping Bellatrix’s location secret. Seeing as she was a maddened Ex/Present Death Eater and escaped prisoner on the run. The thought of Bellatrix left a bitter and foul taste in his mouth, making him feel even worse that his mother was stuck at home with that beast who was nearly as bad as the Dark Lord himself. He didn’t care that that was her sister, his aunt, she had no empathy for anything, especially not for him. He recalls her telling him right before he went to school, that he should be grateful and honored for being entrusted with a task so important.

As much as Draco wanted nothing to do with his tasks, he didn’t ignore them. He begrudgingly let Bellatrix teach him Occlumency, something he desperately needed to learn and was now a little good at. He had even tried convincing himself that he needed to do this. It was all up to him. He was chosen for this. He hated it, but he was chosen nonetheless. And he would try with everything to save his family and to make them proud, even if it killed him.

He ignored the thoughts of his aunt and his dreadful life options, refocusing on the words his mother wrote to him. They echoed in his mind, imagining her saying them to him. 

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

His mind wandered to you, knowing full and well you were are the one and only joy in his life he so deeply desires. His mother’s words hit him hard, to the point where he almost ran out of his room to go look for you. Almost.

But he was stubborn and still couldn’t pull himself out of the mindset he had boxed himself in where he thought being with you would be worse in the end for you than not being with you. 

So he went over to his desk, Aquila following him before flying up to the wooden surface where she perched herself in front of him as he sat down and pulled out a parchment and quill to begin his responding letter for his mother. He thanked her for the pastries, told her he would try his best in confiding in Snape, loosely promised he would fulfill her wishes of him finding some happiness, and gave her his love. He gave the letter to Aquila, smoothing the feathers on the top of her head one last time before she chirped and flew to the window and then out of his room and into the open dark starry sky. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

More weeks had gone by. And then a month. You were seeing less and less of Draco and for a healing heart, it was the best thing for you, but also the worst. He had even began skipping class as much as he could, not that anyone ever noticed, except you and Slughorn of course.

“Miss Y/L/N, may I have a word?” Slughorn came up to you while you were working on a potion with your friend. The same friend who had given up her seat to Draco who she now despised and regretted ever doing in the first place. She gave you and the professor a look before getting up and heading to the front of the class where she began to pick up vials and jars to store the potion.

“Of course, Professor,” you answer with a polite smile.

“I spoke to Mr. Malfoy about a month ago, he seemed rather distraught,” he began, placing a finger over his chin in thought. “I’m beginning to grow worried of the boy! Is there a reason he’s no longer showing up to class?”

You swallowed thickly before responding, “your guess is as good as mine, Professor.”

“Ah, well, one mustn’t pry too much,” he says. “Also, I’m pleased to see your marks improving in the last couple weeks. Keep up the good work, Miss Y/L/N.”

And with that the professor turned around and left to go check on other students, your friend returning.

“What’d he want?” She asked, setting the supplies down on the table.

“Wanted to know about, Mr. Malfoy,” you mocked quietly, your voice turning bitter when the name left your lips. 

You knew Draco’s disappearance was your fault and you felt that twang of hurt beat against your chest thinking about it. That whole conversation with the Professor killed your entire mood. It wasn’t great to begin with, but the feeling of nothing had turned into hurt. 

You were roughly stirring the cauldron, preparing to put the nearly finished potion into the two large jars so it could sit overnight. They were right beside your arm and you felt your elbow collide with the glasses, cringing internally when you heard them crash onto the ground and shatter. Luckily there was nothing in them, but you had still made a mess of glass. In your heat of embarrassment and with the people are you now staring at you, you forgot you could easily clean up your mess with magic so like a klutz, you instead bent down to pick up the shards of glass that scattered the floor with your bare hands.

A loud gasp left your mouth as you began to pick them up, feeling the largest piece of glass in your palm deeply slash the skin of your hand. You dropped it, feeling the blood begin to drip down your arms and onto the floor.

“Oh no, Y/N,” your friend sighed from above you, gripping onto your other arm and lifting you up. “Are you okay?”

The question was meant for your hand, but you felt it hit your soul just as it did whenever someone asked you that question when you were so overwhelmingly not okay. You shook your head no, the pain from your hand and your heart taking over you completely as tears began to trickle down your face. 

Slughorn came up to the table, waving his wand over the mess of the floor and fixed the damage done to the vases and making the small puddle of blood disappear.

“Class is dismissed, students, you are free to go to the Great Hall for lunch,” Slughorn announced and everyone quickly packed up their things and hurried out except for you and your friend. The full-bellied Professor watched you with concern and you turned to your friend where she took your hand in hers and placed it palm up for you.

You shuddered, bringing up your wand to the cut and simply thought your healing spell before watching it completely fade into a faint light pink scar.

“I’m going to explain to Slughorn what happened and put away our stuff,” she says to you, a sad glint in her eyes. “Go clean yourself up and I’ll meet you at our table for lunch with everyone when you’re done.”

You could only pathetically nod before you slung your bag over your shoulder and trudged off into the direction of a bathroom. You decided to go up to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, wanting to be alone from everyone so you could clean yourself up in peace and also have a meltdown. You didn’t know why you wanted to torture yourself with the ghosted memories you shared with Draco in that bathroom, but you still went. 

You took your time getting there and you were only down the hall when you saw the entrance. It was then when you heard a familiar ghastly screaming and wailing. It was horribly loud.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”

Moaning Myrtle floated from the large wooden double doors, screaming so loud it ricocheted off all the walls of the now deathly silent castle. You felt all the blood drain from your face as an awful and sickening feeling had bubbled in your stomach.

“It better not be Draco,” you said to yourself, your legs taking longer strides towards the bathroom. “Please, don’t let it be Draco.”

By now, you were sprinting towards the end of the corridor, throwing your bag to the floor as soon as you reached the doors and flung yourself through and into the destroyed bathroom, stepping into a pool of water that had streaks of crimson red. Your eyes followed the trail of blood, stopping suddenly when you found the source.

A blood-curdling scream twice as loud and stronger than Myrtle’s, left your throat as you tripped over your own feet to reach him. You saw Harry Potter, standing a little ways by the door, a panicked and pained look in his eyes as he tried to understand what he had just done. 

Once you reached Draco’s nearly lifeless body covered in angry red gashes, you fell next to him, his eyes finally meeting yours for the first time in ages. He was breathing raggedly in choked grunts, clutching at his mauled chest as he struggled to breath. The stormy eyes you loved so much were clouded in fear. Nothing but fear.

You shoved your hand into your pocket, searching for your wand and pulled it out hastily. You shakily waved it over his cuts, thinking and saying any spell you knew that came to your mind in the matter of 5 seconds. This was what you did. This was all you did. Why couldn’t you heal him? None of your spells worked.

“I, I can’t heal you,” you sobbed, resorting to putting your hands over his chest at a failing attempt to stop the bleeding. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“n...o,” Draco said weakly and quietly. He mustered up all his remaining strength and placed a bloodied hand over yours, you grabbed it tightly and leaned over him when you realized he was trying to speak. “S-sorry. lo...ve. y...ou.”

It felt like there was a knife in your chest being repeatedly stabbed into your heart and twisted. His eyes closed and you cried harder, knowing you were going to lose him. Everything was happening so fast. You had only been in the bathroom a solid 10 seconds, everything around you moving in a slow blur but so quickly.

It was as if Merlin had answered your pleas, the sound of the door slammed open and a maddened looking Snape rushed inside, pushing Harry roughly to the side and looking down at Draco and then you only momentarily before dropping to his knees beside him and opposite of you.

“Vulnera sanentur,” he began running his wand over the cuts on Draco’s chest and you watched with wide teary eyes as the blood pooling around you began to retreat back into the wounds. He said it again, and once the blood was back in, the cuts began to close. He chanted it one last time, and the cuts had healed into thick and reddened scars. “Miss Y/L/N, please help Draco over to the hospital wing for some dittany, and quickly please. We might be able to help with the scarring, perhaps avoid it completely. I need to deal with, Potter.”

Draco was half conscious, a dazed and confused look in the gray of his eyes as they fluttered open and closed. You noticed the scar beginning to form on his paled face and you bit back a sob. You knew if that scar stayed there, it would only drive him into a deeper hatred for himself.

You quickly got up, Snape picking up Draco and throwing his arm over your shoulders so that you would be able to help him over to the hospital wing which luckily happened to be a hall away from the bathroom. The adrenaline and sheer love for the boy was pumping through your body which had made you feel stronger in basically carrying Draco through the halls. He was dragging his feet, mumbling incoherently and you couldn’t stop crying.

You saw the doors to the hospital wing open, Madam Pomfrey staring at the scene heading towards her in horror. 

“DITTANY!” you called to her. She threw open the doors wider, nodding before she ran back inside in a hurry. A passing seventh year Hufflepuff had dropped all of his books and his bag and linked arms with Draco’s free side, helping you take him inside with much more ease. Madam Pomfrey yelled to rest Draco on the nearest bed and she quickly returned with the dittany, shooing the both of you away from him.

“I’m afraid the two of you are going to have to leave, immediately,” she demands, her hand reaching up to grab the privacy curtain before shielding her and the love of your life from you and the prying eyes of shocked students gathered at the doorway to see what had happened. The Hufflepuff that had helped was already out the door, but you couldn’t bring your legs to move.

“Away from the door!” McGonagall suddenly appeared from behind the crowd of students, a disgruntled look etched into her aged skin. “Return to your house’s common rooms! That goes for you too, Miss Y/L/N.”

She gently placed both her hands on either of your shoulders, guiding you outside the door and out of the hospital wing. She gave you an empathetic glance before grabbing the handles of the doors and shutting them with a loud clang.

The lingering students stared at you in discomfort and grimaces. You looked around, still in a daze and then looked down at your body. You were drenched in blood and water, looking straight out of a horror movie and closely resembling the clothing of the Bloody Baron, Slytherin’s house ghost.

Everything still felt quiet and slow. You didn’t even notice your friends rushing towards you in hysterics, throwing you in hugs as you only stood there, unable to react. You let them pull you away, leading you to your house’s common room, tripping every now and then. You caught a glimpse of Moaning Myrtle in the distance, her cries still very loud and apparent. She had gone around the entirety of Hogwarts wailing the same news that had broken you, only this time you heard the new choice words she had added along the way.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER! HARRY POTTER HAS MURDERED DRACO MALFOY!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You sat immobile on the edge of your seat besides Draco’s hospital bed. Much to your surprise, Madam Pomfrey had allowed you to stay overnight with the fallen Slytherin Prince. You recognized it might be her way of paying you back from all your countless volunteering and because of that, she trusted you in knowing exactly what to do when it came to the medical field of the wizarding world.

It was around three in the morning, the incident having happened well past twelve hours ago. You were showered now and in a fresh pair of robes, your pajamas holding in your warmth as a cold draft flowed throughout the dark dimly lit room. The hospital wing was tall and large, it felt like a castle in itself, and it only made you feel more feeble. You scooted your chair closer to the bed, placing a hand onto the mattress right next to Draco’s paled slender hand.

Fingertips ghosted over his knuckles, your body shivering at the closeness of the near contact. You didn’t know how he was going to react when he woke up. It was all a waiting game, and your heart squeezed with anxiety as you awaited his regained consciousness. You didn’t forget the words he said to you right before he slipped away. They rang and rattled in your head like a pinball game on loop.

He had told you he loved you.

The thought of him dying and you never being able to tell him you felt the same haunted you. You thanked Merlin that Snape got there when he did. You also made a mental note to hex Harry into the oblivion the next time you got a chance. 

You sighed deeply, your voice quavering as your ran a hand through your tangled hair. His face glistened under the orange lamp on the bedside table, his skin tinged with a grayish undertone and his eye bags deep and dark. The scar you had seen on his face earlier was gone, the skin now just holding a skinny reddened line going across his features as if he was just hit with something. You smiled slightly, knowing it would be gone in the morning and feeling grateful for him that he wouldn’t be scarred with it.

His body was covered in a hospital gown and bandages infused with dittany, but seeing how bad his cuts were before they healed, you knew those would leave something behind no matter what. In your studying towards becoming a Healer, you read about the effects of dark magic and the marks it left behind on its victims. You didn’t know what spell had done what it did to Draco, but it was violent and radiated with darkness. 

The softness of his his skin was met under yours, your hand finally allowing itself to fall over his and you let out a sharp exhale at the touch. It wasn’t like earlier when you were holding onto him for dear life, rough and filled with fear and pain, this time it felt familiar. It felt warm despite the coldness of your skin and his. You shook quietly, another set of tears rippling through your body as you tried your best to not wake him. You sat up and slowly leaned over him, looking down at him to observe his peaceful features. He slept soundly and peacefully, his breathing even and quiet. Even though he almost died earlier today, he looked as though he was having the best sleep of his life. The sleep he gravely needed but seemed to never be able to get. 

Your free hand softly rested on his cheek now and you carefully moved your lips towards his forehead where you placed a long kiss. A stray tear had fallen onto his skin as you pulled away and you frowned, wiping it away with your sleeve before moving your hand up towards his hair. You smoothed it back, the soft blond strands feeling like silk between your fingers. He was a dream, an angel to you. You stood by what you had told him that unfortunate day under the tree, he was good, and you would tell him again and again until he believed it himself.

Just as you pulled back from him, a sharp gasp erupted and he shot up in bed, grabbing and tearing at his gown as breathless quick pants fell from his lips. 

“Hey, Draco, I’m here, you’re okay, relax,” you coo gently, grabbing his hands and holding them tightly in yours so he wouldn’t tear his bandages. Your heart battered against your chest, the waterworks in your eyes beginning all over again. He stared at you, searching your eyes and he began to cry too. The same broken and deep sobbing from months ago you had grown accustomed to hearing. 

He threw himself onto you, crying even harder as his arms wrapped around you, his hand on the back of your head pressing you into his chest. You climbed into the bed in deep shaky breaths so that you were now sitting on your knees between his legs. It was overwhelming, to put it lightly, both of you crying into each other as you remembered the fall out, the lonely days and nights, the wasted opportunities, the endless missing of one another’s presence in their lives.

“I’m sorry,” Draco chokes out. “I never meant to hurt you. I thought that by pushing you away, you would be safer, but I can’t do it anymore. I need you, I love you, Y/N.”

You cradled him in your arms, rocking the two of you back and forth, and you shook your head reverently.

“I forgave you the second I thought I was going to lose you,” you respond quickly. “Merlin, Draco, you scared me to death. I thought you were gone.”

The same words from his mother echoed in his head again and he finally understood what they meant. 

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

Darkness was going to arrive one way or another, it was going to steal the rest of whatever life he had left in him one day. It was out of his hands, out of his control. The time to live his life was now. Because he didn’t know when he would ever have this opportunity of love again, of safety, of light. Everything was undefined and unknown and he felt the anguishing regret of all his decisions when he had seen you in the bathroom hovering over him with a hopeless look in your eyes. He promised himself, to Merlin and to the sun, the moon and all the stars that in the 1% chance that he survived that close call with death, he would never abandon you again. His heart pained at the memory of him trying to sputter out his final ‘I love you,’ not knowing whether or not you heard it or if you understood how genuinely he had meant it.

The room was only filled with sniffles and shaky breathing, both of you still in the same rocking position, afraid that if you let each other go, the other is going to disappear.

“Draco,” you say, lifting his head up from the crook of your neck so that he could look you in the eyes. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know. Please don’t ever, ever leave again.”

“Not in a million years, darling.”

PART 3

[arc852]

A Companion for Loneliness 1/2

Summary: Tommy is lonely, so Phil takes the advice of Tommy’s therapist and gets him a pet.

Warnings: Dehuminization (treating people like pets)

Word Count:  2234

__________________________________________________________

 Phil hung up the phone and let out a long sigh, hanging his head. The call from his boss, about having to work longer hours, was a good thing money wise. Especially since his boss guaranteed he’d be paid overtime for the longer hours. What it wasn’t good for was his son.

 Now Tommy was old enough to take care of himself. The fifteen year old reminded him of that everyday, calling himself a big man and other such similar things. But, though Tommy didn’t admit it, Phil knew that he got lonely when Phil was out all day and night at his job. And especially now that it was summer, Tommy no longer had school to distract him from that loneliness. 

 Phil was hoping to spend more time with Tommy during the summer but with his increase in hours, that wasn’t going to be possible. It wouldn’t be so bad if Tommy had friends to hang out with but…

 Of course, that wasn’t Tommy’s fault. But it made Phil feel even worse about not being able to be there for his son.

 His phone rang again, pulling Phil out of his thoughts. He glanced at the caller ID before answering it. “Hey Puffy,” Tommy’s therapist was a wonderful young woman and had helped Tommy a lot. Tommy didn’t see her as often anymore but Puffy always made sure to call every once in a while to see how things were going. Phil appreciated it and he knew Tommy did too.

 “Hey Mr. Minecraft! Just checking in. How is Tommy doing? Summer should be starting soon, right?” Puffy asked, cheerful as always. 

 “Yeah, it just started actually. And Tommy’s...good.” The silence he received made Phil wince.

 “And how is Tommy actually doing?” Puffy asked, tone softer this time. Phil sighed. He really couldn’t get anything past Puffy. Not that he was really trying to but still.

 “He is doing well at the moment but I just received some news from my work. I...They need me to put in extra hours. The money will be great for us but--” He was cut off.

 “But Tommy will be left all alone.”

 Phil shut his eyes, using his free hand to rub at them. “Yeah. For the most part. And I hate doing that to him but there really isn’t anything I can do about it.”

 “...Have you thought about getting Tommy a pet?” Puffy said suddenly and Phil opened his eyes again, blinking.

 “A pet?”

 “Yeah, ya know, a companion to keep Tommy company and distracted while you're gone. Pets are wonderful for that sort of thing.” Puffy explained. Phil had never thought about that before, mostly because he never really cared for having a pet in the first place. But if it was to help Tommy…

 “So, should I get him a dog? Or would a cat be better? A hamster?” What pet would be best for Tommy?

 “Actually, for Tommy, I was thinking more along the lines of a borrower.”

 “A borrower?” Phil didn’t pay much attention to things happening around the world but even he had heard about the discovery of borrowers several years ago. They were huge back then but the hype had died down over the years. They were still fairly popular but the novelty had long since worn off. “Why a borrower for Tommy?”

 “Well, unlike other pets, they can actually have conversations with us.” Puffy said and, well, she had a really good point there. “It might be good for Tommy to be able to talk with someone. My nephew recently got his own pet borrower and he loves him and my son has had one for years. They make great companions, in ways a dog or cat can’t be. I think one would be perfect for Tommy.”

 Phil had been nodding along, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. It really did sound perfect. A pet that would not only distract Tommy but one he could also speak to and hang out with. 

 “I think I’ll take you up on your advice Puffy, thank you so much.” Phil could hear the smile on Puffy’s face as he spoke back.

 “That’s what I’m here for! Literally. Anyway, let me know how it goes and I wish you luck in picking one out for Tommy. Oh and I would stick to males when picking out a borrower and either around Tommy’s age or a bit older. It’ll hopefully make it easier for Tommy to connect with a borrower like that.”

 Phil nodded despite knowing Puffy couldn’t see him. “Thank you Puffy. Talk to you later.”

 “Bye Mr. Minecraft!” And with that, Puffy hung up. Phil placed his phone down on his desk, feeling better about the whole situation. He glanced at the time and went to grab his keys.

 He started working again tomorrow, so he might as well go out and get Tommy that borrower while he could.

***

 Phil entered the pet store, looking around to try and see where they kept their borrowers. He must have looked as lost as he felt though, as an employee came up to him with a smile on her face. Her name tag read Niki. 

 “Hello sir, is there anything I could help you with today?” Her voice was cheerful and authentic. It made Phil smile.

 “Yes, actually. Um, I’m here to buy my fifteen year old son a borrower.” Phil said and he almost missed the way Niki shifted and tensed up slightly at the mention of a borrower. But as quickly as it came it went and Niki was back to her relaxed self. Phil must have imagined it.

 “Of course! Right this way, I’ll show you our selection of borrowers.” Niki started walking towards the back of the store and Phil followed, looking down the aisles as they passed them. Finally, Niki turned into one and Phil followed, seeing the rows of cages filled with borrowers. Though, there weren't as many as Phil would have first thought.

 “Our selection in this store is a little small but you should be able to find one here.” Niki said with a smile. Phil glanced around at the cages, biting his lip at all the choices. How was he supposed to pick?

 “You said this was for your son, right?” Niki chimed in again and Phil’s gaze landed back on her as he nodded.

 “Yeah, my job is keeping me extra long this summer and my son...doesn’t really have any friends. He gets lonely, though he won’t admit it, and I feel bad for leaving him. His therapist is the one who suggested I get him a borrower, actually.” Phil explained.

 “I see.” Niki hummed. Phil noticed how her gaze had softened though it was weird considering Phil hadn’t noticed her tense before. “Well, I have to go back to the front but there are a few borrowers in that last cage at the end of the aisle that might catch your eye.” She pointed at said cage, gave Phil a smile and then walked past him to head back up to the front.

 Phil watched her go and then turned back towards the cage she had pointed at. He headed over that way, glancing into the cage once he came upon it. There were about five in this one cage and Phil looked them all over. A couple seemed to simply ignore him, while one seemed to try and make itself smaller and another refused to even look at him.

 The fifth one though, was actually actively glaring at him. 

 Phil blinked, meeting that one's gaze. It was hard to make out the finer details of his face from the corner he was sitting in but he was clearly tall for a borrower, or at least, compared to the others in the cage with him, and his hair sat in a similar way to Tommy’s but was brown instead of blond.

 In fact, though Phil couldn’t quite place why, this borrower reminded him a lot of Tommy right off the bat. Maybe it was the fire behind that glare or even just the hair, but it was there and Phil couldn’t ignore it.

 “Hello mate,” He said in greeting, smiling softly and ignoring the glare. The borrower jumped slightly but his glare only hardened. “What’s your name?” 

 “F*** off.” The borrower spat out and Phil’s eyes widened. He was reminded of Tommy more by the second. 

 Well, that had been easier than Phil thought.

 He stood up straight and walked away, ignoring the confused look the borrower had sent him. When he came back with Niki, the borrower’s eyes widened and he hurried to a stand. “Oh f*** no.”

 “I had a feeling you’d take a liking to Wilbur.” Niki said with a smile towards Phil.

 “Wilbur?” Phil asked for clarification and Niki nodded.

 “That’s his name. Wilbur Soot, 22 years old. He was caught and brought into this pet store around 6 months ago.” Niki explained and then turned her attention to said borrower. “Hey Wilbur, it looks like today is the day.”

 Wilbur shook his head, looking panicked. “N-No! What the hell, Niki?!”

 Phil glanced between the two, confused. Niki let out a little sigh and sent a sad smile towards Phil. “Sorry, he’s just nervous.” She turned back to Wilbur. “Trust me Wil, this will be good for you.” Phil watched as she reached in and wrapped her hand around the borrower. Said borrower squirmed and tried to fight his way out of the grip but it proved fruitless. Niki brought him out of the large cage, only to place him into the smaller one she had brought with her from the front.

 Once he was locked inside, he was handed over to Phil. “Alright, let’s go and get the payment all settled.” Niki said and Phil nodded, following her once again back towards the front. He handed his card over once Niki took to the register and Niki started the payment process.

 “Were you getting anything else today?” Niki asked, she was still smiling but it was a little less wide than before. Phil blinked at the question, glancing down at the borrower in the small cage. He was still being glared at but now the little guy was curled in on himself near the center of the cage.

 “Um...should I be getting something else? Sorry, this was sort of a last minute thing. What exactly do borrowers need?” Phil asked, feeling sheepish at his lack of knowledge. Thankfully, Niki’s understanding gaze made him feel better.

 “Well, honestly, they don’t need a lot. Or, at least, they don’t need a lot of things that you need to buy. They eat human food just fine, so no need to waste money on that. I would recommend a borrower bed for him to sleep in though. And a collar for if he gets lost but those aren’t required.” Niki explained and Phil nodded along. 

 “That sounds good. Could you throw in a borrower bed and I’ll go ahead and take the collar too.” Phil said and Niki nodded, fetching the items and placing them in a small bag. She then rang up the order and Phil was hesitant to see the price. But when it appeared on screen his eyes widened. It wasn’t nearly as much as he would have thought.

 “Here you go.” She handed over the bag, which Phil took and picked back up the cage that he had placed on the counter.

 “Thank you so much for your help.” Phil said and Niki grinned.

 “Of course, if you need anything again, I’m happy to help!” They waved goodbye and then Phil was out the door.

 He got into his car but hesitated placing Wilbur down into the front seat. He looked down at the borrower, noticing how the little guy hadn’t moved much from his earlier position but now he seemed to be refusing to look at him. He looked sad and it made Phil’s heart melt just a little bit. 

 “Hey mate,” He spoke and Wilbur’s head snapped up to look at him. The glare was back but it was less intense this time, another emotion that Phil couldn’t quite pinpoint getting in the way of the heat. “Just thought I should explain. I’m getting you for my son, Tommy. He’s fifteen and doesn’t have any friends. His therapist suggested I get him a borrower, so here we are.”

 Wilbur’s expression dropped and Phil suddenly felt the need to reassure him. “Don’t worry though, Tommy is a good kid and I’m sure he’ll love you. You’ll be just fine.” Satisfied with that amount of reassurance, Phil put Wilbur’s cage down and locked it into place with the seatbelt, just in case.

 Once he was sure the cage and the borrower inside were secure, Phil started up the car. He glanced at the time and hummed to himself. “Should probably pick up some dinner on the way home.” He’d pick up Tommy’s favorite, to try and further ease the pain the news of him working extra hours would bring. Hopefully the food and the new pet will be enough for Tommy.

 “Don’t worry mate, we’ll be home soon.” He spoke aloud to Wilbur again, for some extra reassurance before backing out of the parking space and rolling out of the parking lot.

[twistedmusings]

Vil Schoenheit: After RSA’S Performance

The first time he had been left speechless was because of you.

You who always knew what to say, you who always had an answer to the problem at hand.

Where were you?

A/N: What is formatting. I don’t even know.

But listen though. When did Vil get hot? I mean he has always been hot but is it now because he is sad boy? A rude boy turned sad boy? Is that why I am attracted to him now and was compelled to write this?

I don’t know but I’m in love so I’m going to run with it.

This is how Vil would react if MC looked like they were enjoying RSA’s performance.

Part 2, here!

What Vil felt couldn’t really be put into words.

His grades would say that he was one of the highest ranking students in the Language Arts for Night Raven College. Not just in regular human speech but also in fairy-dialect, animal dialect and any sort of dialect that Professor Trein would demand. Vil also excelled in prose, poetry and abstract writing.

Being left speechless was not something that was supposed to happen, not twice in a row.

The tightening of his throat would speak otherwise, as well as the sudden feeling of vertigo.

Vil could barely hear Kalim through the jovial sound of Neige’s voice, the one thing that had kept him awake for these past few weeks--no these past few years. When was the last time that he had felt so helpless? Was it when he had first met him? Neige, with his bright smile and lovable personality that made people overlook his mistakes, his very obvious mistakes. The way he wouldn’t go when it was his cue, or how Neige would forget almost every other line only to finally have the script memorized by the time it was opening night.

A children’s song.

“What even is this song! The chorus just won’t leave my head!”

He wasn’t even ready during dress rehearsal, Neige would wait until fucking opening night.

Was it dramatic to say that the whole event had haunted him? As well as the domino effect of undeserved fame that Neige had gotten afterwards?

No, to Vil, being overshadowed by this person despite all the effort that he put into each and everyone of his performances was something akin to being shot by a gun.

Over and over and over.

He had been beaten by a children’s song.

Every single commercial, every music video, every promotion and every product placement that Neige did was like a dagger carving him up from the inside out.

So when the VDC presented itself, he jumped at the chance to not just shape himself into the perfect being to defeat Neige, but to shape others to show that not only could he surpass himself but he could help others break through their own ‘ugly’ exteriors to discover their own personal beauty. And by all means he had done it, he had taken five rough and ugly rocks and turned them into polished jewels.

Polished jewels that framed the diamond he had worked so hard to turn himself into.

His grip on the audience seat loosens when something flashes through his mind.

The practices had been rather arduous, not only having to make sure that he was flawless but trying to deal with Epel’s stupid gender based ideas, Ace and Deuce’s lack of grace and even Kalim’s really really terrible singing voice. Yet something had made it even a little bit worth it.

Someone, he needed to correct himself, someone had made it a bit worth it.

The sixth potato that he had hoped to start shaping after this whole thing was over.

What could he say about you? At first glance you were truly nothing special. An uneventful, magicless person from an equally uneventful place that hadn’t even been accepted into this school but was instead made a student because of the monster next to you. You weren’t even a student, more like a glorified problem solver for the Headmaster. Ideally, Vil should have also hated your guts since you were essentially getting the same education that he had been getting when he was a first year but without any effort but there was something different about you that he had not expected.

I think you’re probably the fairest out of everyone in the school.

A small glimmer of something beautiful.

But in the end your opinion is the one that will matter to you.

You were honest. That is something that Rook had mentioned about you once he did his recon of the new manager for the VDC team. How the Ramshackle prefect really didn’t have anything to offer but that the quality that stood out the most to the hunter was your refreshing honesty.

He had modeled for crowds of adoring fans and yet he found himself pulling out his pocket mirror and fixing non-existent imperfections before talking to you. Yet even when he tried to make himself look presentable to you, you always seemed to catch him when all of his walls were down.

“You should have seen the information that I got from Riddle, Leona, and Azul. They have really gotten a reputation behind them, the Ramshackle prefect. I wonder what will happen if we keep them close~”

Vil wouldn’t admit it to anyone but there had been a brief moment that his heart skipped a beat when the news about how the VDC team would be rooming in Ramshackle. He figured it had skipped out of beat due to the horrific news that he would have to room in a dorm that had not been used for who knows how long but when he had come inside and been greeted by your smile, it was almost surreal how he had come to terms with this feeling of nervousness.

The night before the VDC had found Vil in the Ramshackle lounge, a cup of tea in his hand as he watched a video of that day’s performance. There were still minor imperfections here and there but those would be easily covered up by his own singing and movements. Epel had also improved exponentially which highly increased the probability of a successful performance and with Jami’s hypnotizing movements and Rook’s aura there was no doubt that he had this competition under his heel.

But nerves like these didn’t leave overnight.

A creak on the stairs brought him back to the present, taking a sip of his tea as he continued to look at the video.

“If you’re here to ask me about why I am awake at this hour, Rook, I would like to remind you that you insisted we review the performance in the morning which already did nothing to calm my nerves--”

"Vil-senpai?"

His head snapped up to look at you , the light of the moon masking him in shadows while illuminating you as you made your way down the staircase. He clicked his tongue and turned off his phone.

"Was I interrupting something?"

Vil shook his head, “Last minute detail check. Everything has to be perfect by tomorrow.”

You nod and walk towards him, standing next to the couch before pointing to it. Vil looked at you before looking at the seat next to him. What were you--oh. He nodded and you sat down on the other side of the love seat, both of you farther apart that he would have liked.

“Does the manager have anything they want to say to me?”

“It just gets me thinking. You have been doing this performance perfectly in my eyes. Over and over again that it makes me wonder just what you think is lacking.”

You bring your feet up to the seat, hugging your knees together as you look down at the floor, “Maybe your definition of perfect and my definition of perfect are so different.”

The Pomefiore dorm leader rolls his eyes, “Did your Heartslabyul friends put you up to this?”

“Ace and Deuce? Great Sevens no. If they did I would have rightfully ignored them and gone to bed. I’m just your manager, I’m not here to negotiate.”

“Just a manager.” Vil frowns and looks at you, “You understand that you are currently housing the Vil Schoenheit as well as six other people who happen to be under my temporary tutelage. If you and your dorm weren’t around I would have had to keep those two Heartslabyul potatoes in the Pomefiore dorm and I don’t think I could stand letting them sleep in one of our beds. Our dorm has standards, luckily yours is the most neutral place I can stand being around those two without losing sleep.”

He blinks at the snort you let out, staring as you wave your hands and apologize while trying to prevent another one from surfacing.

“That is the only straightforward compliment my dorm has received. Neutral.” you laugh again before wiping a fake tear from your eyes, “Am I allowed to take it as a compliment?”

Vil is glad for the darkness, it hid the sudden flush in his cheeks.

“Take it as you will.”

You nod and stand up, stretching and letting out a satisfied sigh when your back made a small cracking noise that had Vil clutching at his cup. Anybody else and he would have walked out of whatever conversation he was having, so why did he find that tolerable with you?

“Then let me pay it back.” you hold out your hand and for a brief moment Vil wants to take it. Clearly that was an invitation for something and it alarmed him that he didn’t mind the mystery behind it. Yet your finger pointed at the cup, Vil looking down and seeing it was empty.

Oh.

He hands it to you, doing his best to make it so that your fingers would brush in the most accidental way possible.

“In my own opinion, as well as the opinion of others, I think you are the fairest out of everyone in the school.”

The air in Vil’s lungs gets caught in his throat.

“No joke. The way you carry yourself, the effort you put into everything you are a part of. Even the potato comments are almost...endearing? Potato plants produce rather pretty flowers, right? Maybe you are just trying to get the flowers inside of us to bloom as well?”

He is staring.

He is staring and not saying anything. You had left him without speech.

“But in the end your opinion will be the one that matters most to you. I just hope that it will always be positive.” you scratch the back of your head and yawn, “I’m going to grab a glass of water and head back to bed, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Your eyes are still meeting his as a small flush adorned your cheeks, probably embarrassed by what you had just said. Or he would like to think you would be embarrassed, if this was any regular love story he would stand up and grab your wrist and keep you from running away from him before cupping your face and leaning in--

“Good night, Vil-senpai.”

"Goodnight."

You who always knew what to say, you who always had an answer to the problem at hand.

Where were you?

His eyes start looking around for your figure, hands itching and brain running slower than it ever had before. Maybe you would make it better? No, you would make it better. You would go over to him and smile before saying that the competition hadn’t even started and just because that song seemed to be moving everyone under a stupid nostalgia spell, Vil’s hardwork would shine through. Neige hadn’t taken everything from him, not just yet.

Vil feels the weight on his shoulders lessen when he looks at you only for it to double when he sees your face.

You were smiling, humming along to the silly melody as your head bobbed up and down.

Even in practice your gaze remained fixed on them, yet with Neige you seemed to feel that infectious, annoying melody and enjoying it?

“What’s wrong? You look pale.”

Had he lost you as well?

“Vil...Vil?”

The first time he had been left speechless was because of you.

“...Nothing. Don’t worry.” he turns his back to Rook, “It’s not worth seeing their performance. I will be in the waiting room.”

Vil walks away, so many thoughts clouding his head as he replays the words you had said to him.

Who the hell cared about his opinion when yours was just as important?

[whentherewerebicycles]

hoo boy working with students is a great way to practice parenting strategies with 18-21 y/os in a ‘I’m not ultimately responsible for you so the trial-and-error part doesn’t feel as high stakes’ kinda way. today was definitely one of those days! I haven’t parented but I’m always struck by how much of effective teaching/mentoring is actually about 1) being aware of your own instincts, 2) managing your emotions, 3) understanding how your own upbringing shaped you and deciding which parts of that you want to keep vs. modify. had a REALLY frustrating experience with a kid today who has been one of my most challenging students all year and just like… agh I don’t want to rehash all the details here but I’ll focus on what I am trying to learn/take from the experience:

it is not my job to make sure every student succeeds at everything they attempt. it is my job to provide structure, consistent support, and regular feedback as they learn. but ultimately students have to make their own choices about what to prioritize and how much effort to put into things. and if they make conscious, repeated choices not to prioritize something, it is NOT MY JOB to step in at the last minute and frantically fix everything for them so that they don’t fail.

kids need to learn from logical consequences. I need to be okay with letting kids fall flat on their faces if that is a logical outcome of the choices they made (and if they repeatedly ignored feedback and failed to course correct at the many chances they were given). it is so hard to watch a kid crash and burn and not jump in to make it better for them. but these kids are like, a breath away from being full-fledged adults. they HAVE to learn to take responsibility for themselves and be accountable to other people for their choices. sometimes you gotta learn hard lessons.

it is okay for a kid to procrastinate if that’s what they choose to do IF the outcome only affects them. it is NOT okay for a kid to procrastinate and then panic and make it everyone else’s problem at the last minute. way too many people, myself included, had to drop everything and rush in to rescue this kid in the last three days. that’s not okay. (and don’t get me started on this kid’s total lack of urgency during the situation today and her seemingly blithe sense that other people would take care of stuff. if this were my kid she would be writing apology letters to everyone involved lol and maybe buying them a thank you gift with her own money.)

sigh I am giving myself permission to let it go for tonight. then I’m going to sit down tomorrow or tuesday after I’ve let it rest for a while and decide how I’m going to frame the difficult talk I have to have with her, because I feel like it’s not a thing I should let go. I just have to think about what I want to communicate with her and what I need the outcome of that conversation to be. I’m also deeply glad michelle came today because I didn’t realize how genuinely mad/upset I was until she took me aside at the thing today and was like “are you okay with this?” and in a lightning-bolt moment of revelation I was like ‘holy shit I’m NOT okay with this. I feel like this kid is totally disrespecting the time and boundaries of everyone involved and I’m deeply upset that I’m in the midst of spending a huge chunk of my Sunday doing work for her that I’ve been telling her for months needed to start in fucking January.’ it was just really good to have another adult there to be like ok what are you going to do and then for me to be like…. I am going to let her fail. I am going to step back and say wow. This could’ve been a really cool thing if you had done literally any of the work to set it up before the last week. but you didn’t, and so it’s a much shittier version of what it could’ve been, and it’s not my job to spend 4+ hours running around in the 90 degree heat sweating buckets as I try frantically to piece together a better version of your work.

nope!!!! nope. I wish I had been able to realize that on my own but we all need help sometimes lol and once Michelle helped me realize it I was able to decide how I wanted to handle the situation. and that was to finish the task I was working on, tell the student I had other obligations and it was nice to get to see her & her project, and then leave. then scream in the car for a little bit lol but I just needed to vent the irritation. but it’s okay! I will learn from it and next time I will more quickly know how I want to respond. for now it’s done, it’s over, she has three more hours of this event to get through on her own, and then she has a Talk With Jes to look forward to next week lol.

[artemis-fowl-incident-report]

Oh, you thought I could let a Meme Day go by without adding to the Lollypop saga? I thought you knew me better than that Fowldom

(transcript at the bottom, since some sections of dialogue might be hard to make out)

Transcription

Panel 1

Dr Po: So let me see if I've got this right, Artemis. Your Ex, one Lollypop-kun, has been stalking you for perhaps a year now, disrespecting your boundaries, and endangering your safety. All this under the guise of a game of "hide and seek".

Artemis: That is correct.

Dr Po: And you refuse to go to the police, after their lack of assistance when Lollypop-kun, what was it again?... Ah yes, created a clone army of themselves and attempted to take over Liechtenstein.

Artemis: (Solemnly) So many orphans.

Dr Po: Am I really getting that right?

Panel 2

Artemis: Yes, you are doctor. Though I hardly see the point in reiterating facts that just spent half an hour explaining to you.

Dr Po: Apologies Artemis, I just wanted to make sure I had all the facts. But I'm glad you've come in today. Events like these would weigh heavily on anyone's mind. You should be proud of yourself for booking this session.

Artemis: That's not why I'm here doctor.

Dr Po: What do you mean?

Panel 3

Artemis: I'm not here for your attempts of counselling, feeble as they are. I'm here to answer a question.

Dr Po: A question?

Artemis: Yes doctor, a question. Do you have to repeat everything I say?

Dr Po: No, but-

Artemis: Then I suggest you listen.

panel 4

Artemis: For the first few months, I tried ignoring them, hoping their need for my attention would ebb with time. I closed off all means of communication with people that I did not trust implicitly. Restricted my own movements and, when I was forced to travel, did so under multiple pseudonyms. And yet they always found me. Lolly always managed to track me down. So my question is, how was that information getting to them?

Panel 5

Dr Po: Artemis, I hardly think that this has any relevance-

Artemis: It was you, wasn't it?

Dr Po: Excuse me-!

Artemis: Oh, come now doctor, I've already figured it out.

Panel 6

Artemis: You've had access to my schedule since my mother asked you to take me on as a private patient away from the school's interference. You receive detailed updates on where, where, and with whom I am with on a weekly basis. And Lolly can be very persuasive even to greater minds than yours. So are you going to tell me the truth, or am I going to have to ask Butler to come in here?

Panel 7

Dr Po: No, no, no. It's fine... (sigh) you're right, as usual. They approach me about a year ago. They made it clear that refusing their requests for your schedule was not an option. Every week, I had to give them an update on how you were doing, your schedule, any titbits of information that might be of interest to them, etcetera. I'm sorry Artemis, I never wanted to betray your confidence.

Panel 8

Artemis: Don't worry doctor, all is forgiven.

Panel 9

Artemis: Especially because you're not, in fact, the real Dr Po.

Panel 10

???: (chuckles)

Panel 11

Lollypop-kun: What gave me away?

[katzkinder]

London Bridge Is Falling Down

Envy Pair version of my Counting Sheep series! Himiko is my headcanon for the name of Mikuni's mother. Since Mikuni's name contains the character for "kingdom," I thought this name belonging to an ancient queen suited his mother well.

Mikuni is annoying.

That’s something Jeje has always known, ever since Mikuni was a child, ever since the first time he saw him, bounding around his mother’s skirts and throwing himself into Lily’s arms to be held and cuddled and fawned over while Jeje had slunk back to the cellars. Himiko had been so bright, back then, the rot of Envy not yet showing in a visible way, that tiny baby that would grow into his brother’s Eve gurgling happily in her arms.

Jeje was the one who had found him. Himiko had wept when she saw him, all the anger and hate leaving her at once, vanishing as if it never existed when she laid her eyes on the fragile little bundle, swaddled in soft fabrics with little gloves on his impossibly tiny hands. She had sobbed all the harder when she took the crying child from him, her hands shaking while she cradled him close, useless apologies spilling from her pretty lips. The body of the babe’s mother had rapidly been growing cold on the carpet, and little Misono… Would remember none of it.

(Jeje remembered all of it, though. He doesn’t think a single moment will ever fade from his mind, no matter how many eons pass)

As Mikuni had grown, with Jeje watching over him as a silent, imposing, guardian angel, always behind the boy’s mother while she had read bedtime stories to him, always so aware of those bright, bright, too bright eyes, Jeje had also become aware of a number of other things, and those things remained true into adulthood. Mikuni has all of his mother’s gorgeous looks (and some from his father, but admitting as such is just asking to be choked), her stubborn brightness, her sharp tongue and wit, but more than any of that...

Mikuni is annoying.

...Because he never listens to what’s good for him. Just like his mother before him, he had taken Jeje despite his warnings, and some bitter, sick part of Jeje had wanted him to. The same part of him that had given in to Himiko herself.

But, well, he’d always known Mikuni never listened, too.

He wonders if Lily knows, though he doubts that he’s aware, of those golden afternoons when Mikuni would sneak down to his hiding place and find him lurking near the boilers, the excited, terrified whispers of Lily’s children, his human children, chasing after the young heir as he confidently hopped down, step by step, into the “monster’s” lair.

They had talked. About nothing. About everything. Well, actually, Mikuni had talked, seemingly not caring that Jeje never said much back, incredible and beautiful and… Well, there was a reason everyone called Mikuni brilliant.

Jeje knew better, though.

***

The most annoying thing about Mikuni, in his opinion, is not how loud he is. It’s not his contrariness, or his capriciousness, or his constant, gnawing curiosity causing him to make mischief.

The most annoying thing about Mikuni was how badly he wanted people to think he was naturally good at everything.

See, Mikuni was smart. Jeje would give him that. But he was also very stupid. It wasn’t as if he lacked common sense, though sometimes Jeje wondered, but it was like Mikuni wanted people to resent him.

More than anyone Jeje had ever met, his Eve was a hard worker. Someone who hated owing others a single damn thing. It was that useless pride and sense of responsibility for things that couldn’t possibly be Mikuni’s fault, things Jeje suspected, no matter how much he denied it, Mikuni had learned, had internalized, from his father and from Lily, that was why Jeje refused to call Mikuni brilliant like everyone else.

...But he did shine. Like a candle in a darkened room. Like a beacon. Warm, and inviting, someone to warm himself beside, even knowing that that flame would burn him up, just like a moth.

The question was... Who would that flame melt into nothing first?

Jeje would be damned twice over if he let it be his Eve.

Turning away from way he had been watching the other man work late hours, hunched over Nod’s ledgers and planners and Mikuni’s own personal notebooks, where his pen scratched across the surfaces of each calculating profits, expenses, bills, new products and designs and promotions and planning trips, Jeje silently makes his way to their kitchen.

Burning the midnight oil just means you won’t have any left when you truly need it.

A snort, reaching for their cabinets. Of course, that’s what Mikuni had him for.

***

He’s gotten very good at brewing tea. Jeje isn’t much of a chef at all, but living with Mikuni for so long, it was practically guaranteed he’d learn to at least make a semi-decent cup, and thank god he had. He would have truly killed Mikuni by now if he hadn’t, he swears, the man is just as persnickety about his tea as Lily is with his coffee.

...He’s also gained a new appreciation for the stuff, but maybe that comes with the territory of spending hours upon hours listening to Mikuni’s one sided argument about the best ways to drink it. It’s hard not to be impressed with all the little details that goes into brewing what’s considered a perfect cup (by Mikuni’s standards, anyway), and even harder still to not feel a fondness for something that draws such genuine passion out of his once charge, now equal.

...It’s such an odd thought. He knows what people think. That Mikuni has always had a stranglehold on him. That Mikuni has always been in charge. That Mikuni has always been someone… Grown up.

Again. Jeje knows better.

He sets the temperature on their electric kettle, one purchased on one of their many visits to the British Isles, sits at their kitchen table, and waits. Thinks.

Mikuni has been grown up for a long time now. And he will continue to grow, and people will continue to think, no matter Jeje’s efforts, that he is a no good, conniving schemer who would sacrifice them all on a wish and a prayer and something like a maybe.

And, well, perhaps they aren’t wrong. Perhaps Jeje is a fool. But if he’s a fool, he’s a court jester, and as court jester he will make absolutely certain this time that the king does not make his mistakes without someone there to make fun of him for it, even if only behind closed doors, even if only between the two of them.

To everyone else, he is a dictator’s executioner, and that’s fine with him. Everyone else doesn’t matter.

His eyes drift to Mikuni’s favorite cup, one made of glass and painted with delicate, swooping strokes of gold, with lilies and a taupe lacquer surrounding all but a window through which one could admire the lovely colors of their favored drink. He takes it into his hands, so much larger than this tiny cup, and finds himself smiling as he turns the joint birthday gift from the Lust pair over and around, admires those intricate, fancy details that speak of quality and knowing down to the letter exactly what Mikuni’s tastes are.

Well.

Almost everyone.

***

The teapot has been warmed, the kettle filled with mineral water and piping hot, and by the time Jeje finishes steeping the loose leaf tea, their little kitchen clock, kitschy and cute and shaped like a cartoon chicken hatching from an egg, reads 2:17 in the morning.

Jeje picks up the cup, the container of melatonin supplements Mikuni has taken since he was twenty at his Servamp’s behest, and carefully carries both back to where he knows the other man will still be completely absorbed in his work.

True to form, Mikuni is still at it. The predictability of his late night, sleepless habits, of his need to do something with his time, makes Jeje’s frown deepen, ever so slightly.

He wishes Mikuni would just rest. Close his eyes, not do anything, just lie there and let Jeje guard him, just be still, be quiet, like did when he was a child.

… He knows better than to think a mind as stubborn and that moves as fast as his Eve’s could ever achieve that, but he can dream. He can also just sicc the Lust pair on him.

That’ll put him to bed real fast.

“What’re you grinning about over there?”

He startles, not having expected Mikuni to acknowledge his presence, and nearly sloshes hot chamomile with lavender onto the pretty little matching saucer that accompanied the cup. It’s a miracle it didn’t fall over completely. Jeje lets out a breath, so quiet it’s inaudible, and curses himself for forgetting that Mikuni can see him right now.

Then again, even if he was wearing his mask, Mikuni would have seen right through him.

He always does.

His Eve is watching him still, waiting for him to move, and then his eyes flick down to what Jeje has in his hands. His lips twist.

Jeje ignores it and continues to make his way over to where Mikuni had been peacefully working. They don’t speak a word to one another, and no sooner than Jeje sets his cargo down, he’s going back the way he came, knowing it’s useless to try and ply Mikuni with words or favors.

The man is annoying in his stubbornness, too.

He hears a sniff behind him, the scratch of pen on paper once more, but it isn’t long before that little noise stops again. A sigh. Jeje chances peering around the doorframe, smiling, just a tad, as a clearly frustrated Mikuni slaps his pen down onto the counter and picks up his cup, no doubt tempted by the smell of his favorite night time blend.

A swallow. Two.

Mikuni unscrews the lid on the melatonin gummies. Pops a couple into his mouth. Chews, and swallows. The tension leaves his shoulders. He allows himself to savor the warmth in his hands.

Jeje leaves him be and heads upstairs to their room, knowing Mikuni now won’t be far behind.

“Jeje,” Mikuni calls after him, voice soft in that way it sometimes, ever so rarely gets, so quiet Jeje almost misses it. “... You still really suck at this.”

Mikuni is annoying.

[justauthoring]

ACTS OF INTIMACY.

Prompt: Five acts of intimacy between you and Harry -- because those are the moments that truly count.

Please don’t plagiarize my work! Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader Word Count:1,899

1. THE FIRST TIME YOU HOLD HANDS.

Harry and you had just started dating. And while you were a good two weeks into your relationship, things still felt a little... awkward.

For lack of better wording.

It was mainly because the two of you had started out as friends. Really good friends. There was no one like Harry, and while the statement seemed plainly obvious, it was true. So much so, that you’d never had a friend like Harry and while the feelings for him had always been there, it felt entirely foreign and strange to act upon them.

Really, it was just you that found it strange.

Your time spent with Harry felt the same it always had; and it was that that made it hard to ever make any sort of acts of intimacy. He tried, of course he did, and he was always so respectfully understanding of when you shied away. Because you couldn’t help it.

Your stomach would erupt into butterflies and your heart would start pounding madly against your chest, and you shy away, turning your head to tuck your chin into your neck and hide your blushing cheeks away from him. And he’d just chuckle, pull back, and make some silly comment to ease your nerves.

But then the two of you are walking that one fateful day, and the entire time your eyes haven’t stopped flickering to his hands. You love his hands. And the urge to hold them has never been quite this great. Your feelings for him are starting to get the better of you and, of course, make more sense, and you’re no longer so confused between the line of platonic and not.

The sudden urge is just suddenly too great.

You subtly step towards him. Harry barely notices. And then your eyes flicker lower once again, and you feel your chest tighten in nerves even though the act is so simple and you know, you just do, that Harry won’t mind one bit. But thoughts are always hard to ignore, and you can’t help the way your insecurities slip past your defenses.

And then, then, his hand twitches and suddenly your fingers are threading through his own.

The moment stills, your eyes flicker upwards, meeting his own bright green ones which have turned to you in surprise at the touch. However, he catches the look in your eyes and his face eases, every bit of surprise fading, and his lips curve upwards and his eyes twinkle and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen Harry this happy and it just warms your heart.

Knowing such a small act of holding his hands brought his this much joy.

He pulls your entwined hands towards his lips, pressing a kiss against the back of your own, and your stomach erupts in flutters.

After that, you always want to hold his hand.

And Harry doesn’t mind one bit.

2. YOU FORGOT YOUR PJ’S.

You’re spending the night at Harry’s.

It’s not the first time, but you’re definitely still getting accustomed to taking this next step in your guy’s relationship. You’ve been at his house plenty of times, you’ve even spent the night a time or two, but it’s a completely different thing going to his bedroom instead of the guest one and slipping under his covers instead of cold, strange ones.

Harry’s already in bed, waiting for you, when you realize you’ve forgotten a set of your own pajama’s. 

You purse your lips in thought, frazzled, and you’re starting to wish you’d taken up Harry’s offer in just leaving some of your stuff at his place. He’d used the excuse ‘well, you’ll be spending a lot more time here anyway’ and he wasn’t entirely wrong. 

Brushing back your hair, you slowly pull open the bathroom door, peeking your head into the bedroom. “Harry?” And his name leaves your lips in a soft, somewhat nervous whisper, finding his perched form on the bed already staring in your direction, as if he’d been waiting patiently (or maybe not so patiently) for you to come join him.

“Yeah, love?”

“I forgot some pajama’s.”

His eyes meet yours and his lips quirk into a smile. “You want to borrow a shirt of mine?” But before you even give him a proper answer, he’s standing up to grab you a shirt.

You purse your lips. “Only if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t, dove.” And there’s a pause, a moment of rustling in his closet, before he’s stepping towards you, a black shirt in hand. “Here.”

You accept it with a smile, excusing yourself for a moment more as you change quickly. When you step back out, in nothing more then Harry’s shirt now, Harry isn’t on the bed like you’d expected. You’re puzzled for a moment before a light gasp of surprise leaves your lips at the feeling of arms bounding round your middle. 

You’re swept off your feet in a quick, simple stride, and you don’t land back on your feet, but instead your back, on Harry’s bed with him towering over you.

“You look dashing, darling.”

And your cheeks warm, scoffing at Harry. “I’m just wearing a shirt, Haz.”

“Yeah, but,” and his eyes lower, smiling. “It’s mine.”

“It’s definitely comfy.”

“Well,” and his voice is deep, husky, moving to roll over until he’s next to you. He, however, doesn’t hesitate to pull you flush against himself still, cuddling tightly to you. “You can borrow a shirt anytime.”

And now, you don’t need pajama’s because you one way or another, end up just wearing one of Harry’s shirts to bed.

3. HIS HANDS ON YOUR WAIST.

You’re reading a book when the music starts.

And you blink, eyes flickering upwards in confusion, having been under the impression that you’d been alone, before you find Harry stood before you. He’s got a goofy grin on his face, and he’s twirling around on his feet as he slowly but steadily makes his way towards you.

“Harry,” you laugh, shaking your head. “What’re you doing?”

He reaches you by then, taking your hand in his own as your book slides off your lap, landing on the floor with a soft thud as you’re swept up to your feet. Another giggle of confusion but amusement leaves your lips as he starts gently guiding you back with him, the grin never fading from his lips. “We,” he corrects, “are dancing.” 

And then, you’re really swept off your feet as Harry pulls you flush against him with one simply tug, chest pressed against chest. His hands fall on your waist and you have no choice (though you’re not complaining) but to wrap your arms around his neck, laughing.

“Oh?” You question, raising a teasing brow. “I didn’t realize you were such an amazing dancer.”

“Haven’t you seen me perform on stage?”

He feigns hurt by your words and this time a loud, bellowed laugh leaves your lips as your head tilts back. Harry watches on with a fond grin, eyes softening with warmth as your laughter echoes about the room, masking the sound of the slow song he’d turned on for just a moment.

Harry could listen to you laugh for hours.

“When you’re not falling,” you shrug, “sure.”

“Hey!”

Shaking your head, your eyes crinkle with amusement. “So?”

And he blinks. “So?”

“Why’re we dancing?”

“What, can’t a boyfriend just want to slow dance with his girlfriend in the middle of their living room?”

You roll your eyes. “Sure he can.”

“Then,” he shrugs, tightening his grip on your waist. “That’s why.”

“Alrighty then,” you oblige, the grin never fading from your lips. “Spin me, Haz.”

And he’s all too quick to abide.

4. YOUR HEAD ON HIS SHOULDER.

You’d meant to have a movie marathon.

But somewhere along the way, maybe three, four hours in, your eyes had started to grow heavy and Harry’s comments started to lessen in between. His arm around your waist had slacked and your head kept tipping to the side as the urge to stay awake became harder and harder.

Eventually, and you’re not really exactly sure when, you finally lose the fight and your head falls against Harry’s shoulder, body relaxing. It’s a moment or two later, that Harry’s falls against your own, also asleep.

You awake at the credits rolling. You waking wakes Harry up. The both of you pull apart, blinking, confused for a moment, before your eyes turn to his.

“I think we fell asleep.”

You laugh gently at the grogginess of his voice, rubbing at your eyes. “I think we did too.”

A moment of pause echoes, you turn back to the tv. “I don’t even remember what movie we were watching.”

“Me neither,” Harry chuckles, pulling you closer. “I was out halfway through the second movie.”

“Was this three or four?”

“Four, I think.”

Another pause, your eyes drift to Harry. “We suck at all nighters.”

“And movie marathons.”

You laugh. “Should we head to bed?”

“As long as we cuddle.”

You stand, holding your hand out for Harry. “Well, of course,” you grin widely.

Because there’s not a night you two don’t cuddle.

5. EYES FROM THE CROWD.

It’s the first time you’ve been able to join him on tour.

You’re not sure whose more excited; you or him. He plans everything to a T. Making sure you have the best ‘seat’ available for his performance. He wants you to be able to see everything, ecstatic to perform for you, but he also wants to be able to see you amongst the crowd. He also wants to make sure you’re safe from the crowd.

Honestly, you think he goes a little above the beyond; but you don’t have the heart to tell him cause he’s just so excited.

And honestly, when the concert starts, you chide yourself on never having made more of an effort to join him on tour before. The entire night is magical. You’ve been to concerts before, but nothing beats the feeling of watching the man you love do what he loves; perform. His energy on stage in unbeatable and he seems to be on fire even more that night with you on crowd.

Your hearts warms and flutters and everything in between when he calls you out, dedicating a special song for you. Your favourite song of his.

He’s sung for you before. You’ve heard his songs before. But this is something you’ve never experienced, and Y/F/S just means something entirely different as you stare up at him, watching every little detailed of his lit-up, focused on face from your spot within the crowd. Watching the smile on his lips, watching the way his body moves to the beat, listening to how beautiful his voice sounds.

In disbelief that the song is just for you.

It feels like you’re in a dream.

And then his eyes meet yours and everything, everyone else seems to just fade away. The world goes crazy, the screams of the fans go away, and all you can hear is Harry, and all you can see is his eye staring back at you, full of love and warmth.

You never experienced something like it before.

Everything seems to just be said in his eyes, and no words need to be shared between either of you for the other to understand.

The moment is unlike any other.

-

Let me know what you thought?

[gusu-emilu]

Ship: Wei Wuxian / Wen Ning

Summary: Wei Wuxian gives Wen Ning a heartbeat, but not in the way either of them expected.

Rated T, No Warnings Apply

POV Wen Ning, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, references to WWX's poor health, First Kiss, Pining, Cuddling, Presumably Unrequited Love, or more accurately: whatever these two have going on, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, and the inherent homoeroticism of necromancy

Ch. 1/2, 6k, read on AO3 above or on Tumblr below

Wen Ning has always known that Wei Wuxian is not someone to hesitate.

The moment Wen Ning enters the Demon Subdue Palace after packing up the last sack of turnips, Wei Wuxian grabs his wrist.

“Come look!” He tugs Wen Ning deeper into the cave, slender fingers wrapped around Wen Ning’s wrist. He grins at Wen Ning over his shoulder. “I’ve made some more demonic devices, probably my best batch yet. I’d like to see the impersonators down in the town copy these!”

Wen Ning steadies his balance, not fully recovered from Wei Wuxian suddenly whisking him away.

Wei Wuxian has never hesitated to touch him. Wen Ning still isn’t quite used to it, having grown up in a family of doctors whose every touch felt calculated, and among clansmen more focused on war and strength than friendship. Clansmen who rarely respected him, never mind showed him affection.

Even now, he exists in a constant state of volatility due to his outbursts of resentful energy. Every family member in the Burial Mounds is careful around him, even A-Yuan at times.

But not Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian is entirely different. Has always been different.

The first time they spoke, Wei Wuxian had already been comfortable with casual touch. Wei Wuxian hadn’t hesitated to lay hands on him to adjust his archery posture—steady hands he can still imagine on his upper arm and around the side of his ribs, friendly pressure like a heavy quilt, as Wei Wuxian comforted and praised him.

Then the war began, and Wei Wuxian choked him in Lotus Pier—furious, merciless hands like paws of a frightened animal. Wei Wuxian hadn’t hesitated then, either. He would’ve fully choked Wen Ning had he not held back enough to let him speak.

Then the war ended. Now Wei Wuxian uses him as an armrest, fixes his hair, arranges talismans on him, even once tried to pick him up and carry him as a joke. (He'd been a bit too weak to manage it for long. Wen Ning hadn’t thought that part was funny.) Now he drags Wen Ning around by the hand, all without hesitation.

Had Wei Wuxian hesitated before raising him from the dead?

Wen Ning isn’t sure which answer would comfort him.

“Take a look at this one,” Wei Wuxian says as he places a stone tablet in Wen Ning’s hand. A faint black cloud winds around the tablet, the smoke’s path tracing the red fulu writings carved into its surface. “Still pretty weak, but I’m getting closer to replicating yin iron with just regular stone.”

Wen Ning glances back and forth between the tablet and Wei Wuxian’s tired but enthusiastic smile. His eyes are bright with joy, but dark circles frame them. He hasn’t eaten much in the past few days, instead focusing relentlessly on his experiments, despite needing to save energy to heal the stab wound from Jiang Wanyin.

But Wen Ning still hasn’t figured out how to make him rest. Maybe admiring the new batch of demonic devices will help calm his inventive frenzy.

He nods, giving a small smile at Wei Wuxian. “That’s good.”

“Weak yin iron will be much easier to use. Better for small applications here and there, less dangerous…” Wei Wuxian squats by the scattered piles of demonic cultivation tools and notes, rummaging through to find another invention, the tablet already forgotten.

The black cloud around the tablet continues to swirl, small wisps seeping into Wen Ning’s skin. The tablet feels more like a block of dust than like stone, but despite his dulled senses, he notices…something else. A second sensation.

A throb.

“Wei-gongzi?”

“Yeah?” Wei Wuxian says, squinting at a page of especially messy notes.

“Does…does this have a pulse?” The stone continues to throb weakly, more of a resonance than a physical sensation, its aura cold like resentful energy.

Wei Wuxian looks up from the papers, one eyebrow raised. “It’s still doing that?” He stands and takes the tablet, examines it. “Hm. This might be good! I’ll have to find out what flow pattern of resentful energy caused this.”

Wen Ning closes his hand. Strangely, he wishes for the tablet to still be pulsing against his palm. It had felt kind of pleasant, if disturbing. “Resentful energy can create a heartbeat?”

“Well, it’s not exactly a heartbeat. But yes, if channeled the right way.”

“…Does that mean I have one?” Behind his back to prevent Wei Wuxian from noticing, he presses three fingers to the inside of his wrist, where years ago Jiejie had taught him how to read the flow of his blood. A black vein of resentful energy now covers those lifeless pulse points. “I’ve never felt it.”

Wei Wuxian turns the tablet between his hands thoughtfully. “No…you don’t have a heartbeat.” Then he grins, one of those sly grins that crosses his handsome face slowly, as if an idea has rushed into him so quickly that he needs to pace his smile just to contain it. Wen Ning doesn’t like those grins, because they make something flutter inside him.

“At least, not yet!” Wei Wuxian adds. “Do you want one? I could figure something out—”

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine without one.” The last thing Wei Wuxian needs is another project to stay up all night for—least of all an unnecessary project that Wen Ning requested by accident. Wei Wuxian has done enough for him already.

“I’m serious!” Wei Wuxian says. “It shouldn’t be too hard. I can test it right now.” He trails a finger over the blood-red writing on the tablet and mutters a few words under his breath. The black smoke around it thickens. “Just something temporary, to see if the idea works.” He steps closer.

Nervousness immediately jolts through Wen Ning. It’s unfortunate that death has muted the nerve endings in Wen Ning’s skin but has done nothing to quiet his anxious mind, which is always at both its most overactive and sluggish around Wei Wuxian.

Wen Ning watches the tablet’s red markings begin to glow, watches Wei Wuxian’s expression harden to a chiseled concentration.

“Come here,” Wei Wuxian says.

If Wei Wuxian’s hunch works, Wei Wuxian will ignore his health until he finishes developing the method to give Wen Ning a permanent heartbeat. If it fails, Wei Wuxian will still ignore his health, this time trying until he finds a different method.

It’s best to not let him try. To give him a firm “no.”

But Wen Ning has never been good at those. Especially when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

He has also never been good at lying to Wei Wuxian. Although he must do so for the sake of Wei Wuxian’s health, it’s hard to admit that he doesn’t miss his heartbeat.

He misses many small details of his body. Jiejie had taught him the ways of Dafan Wen medicine, made him attuned to the evidence of life in himself. He knows how fast his heart rate is supposed to be while lying in bed, knows which pressure points she once worked at to calm his anxiety, knows the irregularities of the breaths he no longer takes.

He used to like his heartbeat, his breath, their soothing rhythm as he fell asleep. It was comforting to understand that much about himself, to follow this evidence of life, when in childhood a piece of his soul had been snatched and left the rest of him a puzzle.

Now the lack of this evidence of life feels like a testimony against him.

Wei Wuxian could return some illusion of life to him. Would be happy to do so.

Selfishly, Wen Ning wants him to try. Being a walking experiment has its unsettling moments—more accurately, a constant hum of discomfort—but there is something morbidly enchanting about letting Wei Wuxian mold him into whatever he envisions. Into the magnum opus of a genius.

An even more selfish part of him wants to beg Wei Wuxian to try, because how symbolic would it be for Wei Wuxian to restore his heart, of all things…

“Wen Ning?” Wei Wuxian asks softly.

“Okay,” he answers, and instantly regrets it.

Wei Wuxian smiles again, this time the smile he saves for when he is about to tinker with the Ghost General. Wen Ning has learned all of his smiles by now, and he still doesn’t believe that there is one specially for him. But Wei Wuxian gives him that reassuring nod, the warm curve of his lips, the eager yet slightly rueful glint in his eyes, and Wen Ning can only recall seeing that expression the previous times Wei Wuxian rewrote pieces of him.

Wei Wuxian explains exactly what he’s going to do and how the resentful energy will flow. Wen Ning nods, and Wei Wuxian rests a hand on Wen Ning’s chest—casually, moving without hesitation, like always. “It won’t actually restart your heart. Just give the illusion of a pulse for a few minutes.” He furrows his brow as his focus intensifies. “That is, if it works.”

The feeling of Wei Wuxian’s hand on the center of his chest is stabilizing, yet it sets Wen Ning’s mind into disarray, despite how many times he has felt this before.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, preparing to reroute the resentful energy inside Wen Ning.

A cool stream of energy enters Wen Ning. Growing colder, gushing rapidly—

Freezing—

Then over almost instantly.

Wei Wuxian opens his eyes. “Feel any different?”

Wen Ning feels a bit dizzy, which is new. He hasn’t experienced vertigo since becoming a fierce corpse. But that fades quickly, and soon he is left with only the feeling of thick fabric pressing against his chest where Wei Wuxian’s hand rests.

He shakes his head. “Do…do you feel anything?”

Wei Wuxian shifts his hand, presses harder against Wen Ning’s chest. Waits, then sticks three fingers in the groove of Wen Ning’s neck, and that feels nice. Wen Ning almost wants to hold his hand there—

“No. I guess it didn’t work.” Wei Wuxian sounds much more tired than before. He removes his hand.

“That’s okay. I don’t need a heartbeat.”

“You want one though, yeah?” Wei Wuxian begins sifting through the inventions scattered across the cave, perhaps looking for another device, perhaps just hunting for kindling to spark an idea.

Wen Ning had been too selfish by agreeing to this. Who knows how long Wei Wuxian will research this now?

“I don’t want you to start another project,” Wen Ning says, and the faint thread of anger in his voice is stronger than he intended, even though that anger is mostly directed at himself. It's been harder to control his emotions since resentful energy began feeding them.

Wei Wuxian looks up, startled. Then he grins and gives a small laugh. “Are you turning into your jiejie now? Bossing me around…”

The joke only strengthens Wen Ning’s resolve. It reminds him that he can invoke Jiejie’s authoritativeness. He has never been good at following in his sister’s footsteps, but calling upon her immovability is almost as effective at steeling him as resentful energy. “You should sleep or come help us outside instead of always working in here.”

Wei Wuxian rubs his eyes. “I know, I know. You’ve all told me many times.” He seems to regret the slight bite in his tone. He tends to snap once in a while, the effect of stress lashing out from behind his mask, but it always dissolves as quickly as it appears.

“I’ll listen to you,” Wei Wuxian says, gently this time. Wen Ning feels a wave of relief. But then Wei Wuxian smirks and adds, “For now. I really do have some theories I want to test.”

“But—Wei-gongzi—”

Wei Wuxian rises to his feet and walks over to him. Stands and looks at him for a while, then says, almost murmurs, “I have enough projects for myself.” He tucks a strand of hair behind Wen Ning’s ear, and Wen Ning nearly melts. “Let me do something that’ll make you happy.”

This is bad. Very bad.

Wei Wuxian isn’t even telling the truth. His projects are all for the protection of Wen Ning’s family, not for himself. But the fond touch, combined with the sweetness in Wei Wuxian’s voice, is already enough to make Wen Ning bend.

He would much rather take care of Wei Wuxian than be taken care of. But if he weren’t worried about being a bother, he would tangle his hair just for Wei Wuxian to run his fingers through it, to twirl and comb and braid it the way he unravels and reorders the resentful energy inside Wen Ning.

“You really don’t need to. Getting a heartbeat was just an idea,” Wen Ning mumbles.

“And a good idea! We all need more comforts around here, don’t we?” Wei Wuxian nestles three fingers in the groove of Wen Ning’s neck to search for a pulse again, his brow knit in thought. Despite himself, Wen Ning can’t help but be glad that he can feel that touch a second time.

When Wei Wuxian experiments on him, the tugs and surges of resentful energy don’t exactly feel good. It’s like ice cracking under his skin, leaving shards that poke out of him. Or like the bony hand of a skeleton yanking at his insides, ripping him apart and rattling the pieces around.

The pain and discomfort frighten him. Remind him of what Wei Wuxian is capable of. What Wen Ning is capable of.

Yet he finds enjoyment in the fear, in the icy fingers of resentful energy, because those are the shadows of Wei Wuxian’s hands on him, reshaping him.

And before Wei Wuxian experiments on him…that feels too good. The doting—almost loving—attention, the careful examination, mumbled words, soft touches…

Wei Wuxian pulls his hand away and brings it to his own throat. His glance darts around the cave as he seems to calculate something in his mind.

Then he grabs Wen Ning’s hand and presses Wen Ning’s fingers into his neck. The sensation comes delayed, but Wen Ning feels it.

A pulse. Wei Wuxian’s pulse.

Wei Wuxian continues looking around the cave and thinking, as if this is just another ordinary step in a routine. But to Wen Ning, this is—this is—have they ever done something this intimate? How can Wei Wuxian let him feel the rhythm of his pulse, of his life force, and act like it’s nothing?

Somehow that makes it even more intimate, that Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem to mind…

Wen Ning counts the beats to himself.

Too slow. Not by much, but Wei Wuxian’s heart rate is too slow for his age, his size.

Wen Ning would make a mental note to tell Jiejie, but he knows she’s already aware. Wei Wuxian’s health has been deteriorating since he stepped back into the Burial Mounds.

“Wei-gongzi?”

“Mn?”

“I…I have a different idea.”

Wei Wuxian lifts Wen Ning’s hand from his neck, but doesn’t let go. He smiles. “What’s that?”

“You can just give me the tablet.” Wen Ning looks down at the slab of stone, thin black wisps of smoke swirling around it. “I can feel its heartbeat.”

“You don’t want your own?”

He shakes his head.

Wei Wuxian playfully taps the back of Wen Ning’s hand a few times. Four times, to be exact. Wen Ning can’t help counting. “That heartbeat isn’t very human, though.”

Neither am I, Wen Ning wants to say, but he knows Wei Wuxian will scold him if he does. “It would be more than enough,” he says instead.

“You’re going to make the Yiling Laozu feel like a fraud if you let him give you scraps and call it ‘more than enough.’” He sighs and glances down at the tablet. “But you can take it until I come up with something better.”

“Then…is there something that you don’t think is a scrap?”

Wei Wuxian brings Wen Ning’s fingers to his neck again, and the warm pulse hums through his fingertips. “Well, there’s my heartbeat.” He winks. “I’d still call that a scrap, though.”

“No it isn’t,” Wen Ning blurts.

Wei Wuxian raises his eyebrows. Then his expression turns thoughtful. “Would you rather keep feeling mine?”

Wen Ning doesn’t reply, but he knows his face says everything. Not even rigor mortis can hide the answer.

“Forget about that useless rock, then.” Wei Wuxian pats his chest. “I’ll be your heartbeat for now.”

Wen Ning is sure that if he still had blood flow, he would be flushed. Panicked energy begins to twitch inside him. “N-No, it’s okay—”

“You don’t want my finest craftsmanship, and you don’t want my scraps! What am I going to do with you?”

“Nothing,” Wen Ning answers quietly.

“Yes, something.” He takes Wen Ning’s hand and tugs him toward the slab of stone he uses as a bed. “Hm. How should we do this? Maybe—”

“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning says, exasperated. He likes that Wei Wuxian never hesitates, never slows down—it’s attractive, in a frustrating kind of way—but it often leaves Wen Ning in the dust with his mind still sputtering and struggling to function.

“Alright, sit here.” Wei Wuxian gestures toward the bed. “If you want to,” he adds.

It’s pointless to ask if Wen Ning wants to. He wonders if Wei Wuxian knows that he doesn’t need Chenqing or yin iron to make him do just about anything.

Suddenly filled with dread, a dread that he is going to like this too much, he steps forward and awkwardly sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Perfect,” Wei Wuxian murmurs. He taps Wen Ning’s knee twice. “Spread your legs.”

Now Wen Ning is certain that he would be flushed if he were alive. “S-S-Spr—what?”

“Hey.” He smirks and points a finger at Wen Ning. “Who taught you to have thoughts like that? Don’t worry. I just need you to make room for me.”

Wen Ning gets out some garbled form of “okay” and spreads his legs, creating enough space for Wei Wuxian to sit on one of his knees.

Which Wei Wuxian does.

Sit on his knee.

He also wraps his arms around Wen Ning’s neck and pulls him closer until his cheek touches Wei Wuxian’s chest.

“I can’t do all the work myself.” He cups Wen Ning’s chin. “You have to move too.”

Wen Ning swallows—by habit, since he doesn’t really need to do that anymore—and positions himself so his ear rests over Wei Wuxian’s heart. He can’t feel Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat through the robes, but the gentle sound of thum, thum seeps into him right away.

Warmth, too. A lot of warmth.

“Good?” Wei Wuxian hums.

Wen Ning makes a small noise of contentment in the back of his throat. He fiddles with his hands in his lap, trying and failing to find a good place for them that isn’t Wei Wuxian’s legs. “I hear it.”

“Only hear it?”

He opens his mouth to object, but he knows that Wei Wuxian will spot the lie before it leaves his lips.

Wei Wuxian opens the collar of his dark outer robes and lets Wen Ning rest his head on the thin red inner garment.

Even warmer. Softer.

He can feel Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat.

He hasn’t felt something like this since he was a child. It’s…not what he expects.

Jiejie had taught him how to take a person’s pulse. How to place three fingers on each wrist and find the six pulse positions corresponding to the meridians of the body, to identify the different types of pulses—their depth, width, length, strength. How sometimes the pulse feels like beads rolling along a table, while other times it feels like the crisp pluck of a guqin string, and so on, each revealing secrets of the body, guiding how to best heal the patient.

All that knowledge had once been exciting. It seems mundane, now.

The medical analogies for a pulse at the wrist, Wen Ning realizes, don’t work to describe what a heartbeat from the chest feels like when it’s pressed against his cheek.

It’s like wading in a warm stream, sunshine beating on him. The gentle lap of current, its smooth rhythm—thum, thum—like the most natural and simple form of expression.

Wen Ning wishes Jiejie had instead taught him how to decipher a person’s soul by listening to their heartbeat, because with this strange, steady language reverberating in his ear, it almost seems possible.

“Now?” Wei Wuxian asks.

Wen Ning doesn’t make a sound this time.

He counts Wei Wuxian’s heartbeats and tries to guess how many fit into a minute. They remain like that, long after Wen Ning loses count, with Wei Wuxian’s warm body in his lap. They both relax, and Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat eventually fades into Wen Ning, like it’s his own.

His awareness returns when he notices Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat slowing even more. He pulls away, immediately missing the comforting solidness of Wei Wuxian’s chest, and looks up to see a calm, drowsy expression on Wei Wuxian’s face. His eyes are heavy-lidded and almost fully closed.

“We’ve been telling you,” Wen Ning says softly. “You don’t sleep enough.”

Wei Wuxian rubs his eyes. “You really are becoming bossy.”

“I just want you to take care of yourself.”

“You and your jiejie are like a pair of vultures. Circling me when I’m weak and picking at me!” He gives a wan smile and reaches around Wen Ning’s back to rub his shoulder. “But I appreciate that you care about me.”

Wen Ning absorbs the feeling of Wei Wuxian stroking his shoulder, the thrum of Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat still lingering in his ear. “I appreciate that you care about me, too,” he mumbles.

He’s not sure if Wei Wuxian hears, but figures he knows anyway.

* * *

The next day, Wei Wuxian lets Wen Ning listen again.

And the day after.

And the day after that.

It becomes a pattern, as reliable as the beat of Wei Wuxian’s heart. Wei Wuxian is more likely to skip a meal or lose a night of sleep than he is to shirk his self-proclaimed “heartbeat duty,” and Wen Ning begins to wonder if Wei Wuxian likes it as much as he does.

Then Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli show up in Yiling.

That night, Wei Wuxian drinks like he wants to waterboard himself.

He forgets about heartbeat duty after that. Wen Ning lets him.

* * *

Two weeks later, Wen Ning brings a medicinal draught Jiejie prepared to the Demon Subdue Palace. The sun outside sank long ago, leaving behind deep blues and browns that bleed into the entrance of the cave. A single candle flickers on a rock shelf in the cave wall, illuminating the craggy wall and the floor strewn with bits of metal and wood and crumpled talismans.

Astoundingly, Wei Wuxian is not hunched in the corner scribbling away. He’s in bed scribbling away, his sleeves rolled up and his tied-back hair slightly disheveled the way they are when he digs in the mud pond for the lotus pods that won’t grow.

He hadn’t come out to farm since the day before. Wen Ning wonders if he’s fixed his sleeves or his hair since then.

Wen Ning steps over as quietly as he can manage with his clumsy feet and waits beside the bed, holding the draught with both hands and feeling a faint sensation of its warmth. “Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian presses the wooden end of his brush into the corner of his mouth. “Do you know how to make a Spirit-Attraction Flag attract only ghosts of a certain age?”

“…No.”

“Mn. I—wait—” He cuts off and draws what looks like disjointed pieces of an array scribbled in the margins around rejected brushstrokes.

Wen Ning lets him write for a while, then says, “My jiejie made this for you to drink.”

“And why,” Wei Wuxian asks without a pause in his writing, “is she spending resources on me instead of saving them for A-Yuan and the others?”

“You need medicine, too. Because your stab wound still hasn't healed, and—and Jiejie says your body still isn’t used to not having a gold—”

Wei Wuxian abruptly stops writing. Wen Ning clamps his mouth shut, and wishes he hadn’t said anything.

With a lack of pleasure that he fails to hide, Wei Wuxian scribbles a few more things, then stands up, slices a cut in his finger, and begins trailing red lines on a Spirit-Attraction Flag. “I’m going down the mountain to test this.” He looks over at Wen Ning with a softened expression and walks out of the cave.

Wen Ning doesn’t need him to say that it’s an invitation to follow. He always accompanies Wei Wuxian down the mountain. He’d rather Wei Wuxian sleep, but at least leaving the Burial Mounds always puts him in a better mood.

After they pass through the final protective array and the forest around the path begins to change from grim black leafless trees to green trees shaded blue by moonlight, Wei Wuxian seems to relax. But instead of testing the flag in the clearing where he usually does, he continues walking.

They reach the edge of the forest. A few clouds in the sky hide some of the stars, but the moon is out, a bright half of a silver coin. They pass the town from a distance, still close enough to see amber dots of light from the few lanterns lit at this time of night, but far enough that even Wen Ning’s sharp vision can’t discern clear shapes of the buildings. Wei Wuxian stares at the town once in a while, as if he can see something in the muddied blocks of light.

They enter a different patch of forest and stray just far enough inside for tree branches to reach across the sky again.

Wei Wuxian holds up the flag and examines it.

He lowers the flag to his side.

“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning says quietly.

“Yes?”

“Did you…”

He trails off when Wei Wuxian begins slowly rolling up the thin canvas. “I think I just wanted to go for a walk,” he says. “I’ll let the spirits rest today.” He sets the folded flag on a large rock and sits on the ground, his back against the stone, looking out at the plains and town from the recesses of the forest.

“I like walking with you,” Wen Ning says, and sits beside him.

Wei Wuxian usually buries his sorrow in his projects, in the crop fields, in his games with A-Yuan. This aimlessness is the closest glimpse Wen Ning sees of Wei Wuxian’s true state of mind. Wei Wuxian ensures that he is alone whenever he truly lets in his sorrow, but Wen Ning accompanies him during the times when he comes close. As if Wei Wuxian wants him to see���wants someone to see—but refuses to reveal everything.

No one else but Wen Ning has sat next to Wei Wuxian while he draws portraits for no particular reason (he never shows them to Wen Ning, but Wen Ning can guess whom he draws), no one else has slept across the cave from him while he mumbles in his sleep, no one else has wandered down the mountain at night with him.

Wen Ning doesn’t know if he should feel privileged or worried that Wei Wuxian lets him see this much.

He doesn’t think he deserves to know Wei Wuxian’s deepest thoughts, but he wants Wei Wuxian to pass more sorrow onto him, let him shoulder some of the pain. Wen Ning’s heart is dead, he can take it.

“Wen Ning,” Wei Wuxian says. He smooths his robes, adjusts his fitted sleeves. “I haven’t done heartbeat duty in a while, have I?”

“You don’t need to.”

“Maybe I want to.”

Wen Ning looks down at his knees, but Wei Wuxian scoots closer.

With their backs against the rock, Wei Wuxian hugs him in, rests his hand on the side of Wen Ning’s head, cradling him against his chest. Wen Ning tucks his arms away, trying not to touch Wei Wuxian, but Wei Wuxian takes one of his hands.

“It’s okay,” Wei Wuxian says.

Wen Ning waits a moment, wishing he had proper breath to steady himself, then carefully wraps his arms around Wei Wuxian, nestling close to his slender frame.

It feels different this time. Not because their position is different, or because Wuxian’s heartbeat is any faster or slower, stronger or weaker.

There is no purpose this time. It isn’t for Wen Ning to experience sensations more fully. It isn’t for Wei Wuxian to find comfort.

They are just two bodies cast aside from life, bodies that struggled to catch each other during their fall until they landed in each other’s embrace.

Holding Wei Wuxian feels as natural as his heartbeat, as inevitable as each thrum beneath where Wen Ning rests his head.

And just as fleeting.

Wei Wuxian is more alive than any person he knows, yet is wasting away more each day, having given up everything to protect the Dafan Wen.

And Wei Wuxian is not his. Only one thing ties them together: they have each made the other into a member of the living dead.

With whom did it start? Was it Wei Wuxian, who brought Wen Ning back as a fierce corpse, or was it Wen Ning, who held Wei Wuxian down as his core was removed? Or was it the world that did this to both of them?

But despite the thread of shared death that ties them together, Wei Wuxian could break that connection if he wanted to.

Wen Ning is bound to his family, bound to this unnatural body, bound to Chenqing's laments. He can never reenter the world.

But Wei Wuxian...

One day, Wei Wuxian may have the chance to belong in the world again. With his shidi and shijie, with Lan Wangji.

Wen Ning will always be banished to the margins of the world.

“How long are you going to live with us?” Wen Ning finds himself asking.

Leaves rustle quietly in the forest, clouds disappearing above their heads to reveal more stars against the dark liquid sky. An owl hoots questioningly far behind them.

“Until tomorrow,” Wei Wuxian says. “Ask me again tomorrow, and I’ll tell you again.”

“I can’t ask you that every day.”

“Then don’t ask me at all.” He strokes Wen Ning’s hair, over the back of his head and down his back. “I’m not leaving.”

Wei Wuxian continues playing with Wen Ning’s hair, running his fingers through it, stopping occasionally to work out a tangle. Not for the first time, Wen Ning wishes he could feel touch more strongly. He had dreamt of moments like these as a teenager, gentle caresses from Wei Wuxian, impossible moments. He hadn’t realized he would receive them one day after they had given up their lives for each other.

“When do you think we’ll get our next visitor?” Wei Wuxian asks. “Think I can make that Spirit-Attraction Flag into a Guest-Attraction Flag?” He chuckles. “We can hang it at the ridge. People will be drawn from miles to come talk to us. Tell Uncle Four to get lots of fruit wine ready." He fiddles with the sleeve of Wen Ning's robe. "I’ll have you test out the flag. Wear it like a cloak, and go walk around Yiling to see how many friends you make.”

“I can barely get anyone to buy turnips from me.”

“Change of plans, then! I’ll make a Customer-Attraction Flag, and we’ll finally be rich.”

Wen Ning smiles. “What are we going to buy once we’re rich?”

“Toys for A-Yuan.” Wei Wuxian rubs across Wen Ning’s shoulders, back and forth. “Every toy in Yiling.”

“We should buy every toy in Lanling, too.”

“That’ll need a lot more money. We’ll have to grow bigger turnips.”

“A giant one.”

“A single giant turnip?” Now there is real laughter in Wei Wuxian’s voice. “I’ll have to plant you as the seed to grow something big enough. Don’t tell your jiejie. Although she might figure it out when you disappear, and meanwhile a turnip the size of the Burial Mounds takes over Yiling.”

“I still won’t tell her.”

Wei Wuxian makes a low humming sound. “I can always count on you.”

Wen Ning melts more into Wei Wuxian’s embrace, surrounded by his warmth.

“Too bad that no matter who we bury in the lotus pond,” Wei Wuxian says with a sigh, “those plants still don’t want to sprout.” This time he doesn’t rub Wen Ning’s back or fiddle with him while he talks.

He’s never said something like that about the lotus crop without following it up with a confident proclamation—But when have I ever not achieved the impossible?, They’ll poke their heads out soon!, My lotus flowers will be the biggest you’ve seen, just wait!

He’s never left hanging the chance that the lotus crop might not grow.

Wen Ning waits for the cocky remark, but it doesn’t come. “They’ll sprout if you’re the one growing them,” Wen Ning suggests, filling in the declaration that Wei Wuxian missed.

“…Yeah.”

Wen Ning’s stomach sinks. He looks up. Wei Wuxian smiles at him and guides him to rest against his chest again.

“It’s only been two weeks. They might take a while,” Wen Ning says, his face nearly turned into Wei Wuxian’s robes.

“I’ll just cheat and make a Lotus-Attraction Flag.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Of course you will. You’ll also help me with the flag for attracting guests to marvel at the beauty of our lotus pond!”

Guests again.

Wen Ning knows that Hanguang-Jun had visited on the day his consciousness returned. Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli had met with Wei Wuxian soon after. Both left marks on Wei Wuxian.

Is he thinking about them?

Wishing he had warmth of his own to give Wei Wuxian, Wen Ning hugs him tighter. He's not sure if they lower to the ground in one movement or slowly slide down, but eventually they lie on their sides, facing each other, arms tight around each other. Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat speaks, and Wen Ning listens.

I’m lonely, it whispers. I’m so lonely.

Who is there in the Burial Mounds for Wei Wuxian to feel the same affection toward as he feels about Hanguang-Jun? Or to provide the same comfort as the company of his siblings?

Everyone in the Burial Mounds has tried their best to provide the support of a new family for Wei Wuxian. He has even called them his family. But try as they might, how could the Dafan Wen replace his shidi and shijie?

The shidi and shijie Wen Ning helped Wei Wuxian save, only to steal him away from. He knows that it was Wei Wuxian’s choice to lead the Dafan Wen to the Burial Mounds and live with them, but would he have made that choice if he had never formed a relationship with Wen Ning and his sister? The thought makes guilt churn in his stomach.

“Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian runs his thumb in gentle circles over Wen Ning’s shoulder. “Yes?”

“Is that something you want?” He pulls away from Wei Wuxian’s chest to look up at him, though not quite into his eyes. “Guests?”

“Don’t take that all so seriously. If guests come, would they be as good of a drinking buddy as Uncle Four, or as good of a storyteller as Granny, or as energetic as A-Yuan? They couldn’t compete.”

“But you meant it,” Wen Ning says, surprised at the force in his own voice, quiet as it is. “I’ll help you bring guests here.”

Wei Wuxian smiles and brushes his thumb over Wen Ning’s cheek, the touch warm and soft like hushed words. “You’re already too good to me. Don’t worry about me.” He sighs and looks up at the sky. “Each of us will have things we want, but can’t have. It’s just part of living.”

Wen Ning, too, looks up at the star-studded sky through the dark silhouettes of trees. The full shapes of the constellations are broken up, but he can picture which stars are waiting behind the black hands of tree leaves.

As he follows the disjointed forms of the constellations, he decides that he will relieve Wei Wuxian’s burdens.

He is not sure at what moment he makes the decision, but it settles into his bones and becomes his purpose for the night.

Not just for the night. For as long as Wei Wuxian is by his side.

The day Wen Ning’s consciousness was restored, he had heard A-Yuan singing a song about walking the “single-log bridge.” Curious, Wen Ning had asked where A-Yuan learned the song.

“Xian-gege,” had been the answer. The song’s lyrics had been about Wei Wuxian walking alone into darkness.

Wen Ning will not let him walk alone.

If Wei Wuxian wants to walk the single-log bridge, Wen Ning will carry him across it.

“Will you tell me about them?” Wen Ning asks.

“About what?”

“The things you want, but can’t have.”

* * *

Thank you for reading! Next chapter is coming soon. If you enjoyed this fic, come visit me on AO3!

[warped-stem]

so. my post about writing this at 3 am fighting off melatonin got exactly 2 notes. enjoy my sleepy angst :)

warnings for mentions of mutilation, vomit, and torture. wordcount 1.6k

--

When Sapnap goes to visit Dream again, he notices something off about Sam. He's flightier, less talkative. He barely meets Sapnap's eye the entire walk through the prison. When they finally get to the main cell, Sam warns him that Dream might not talk again. Sapnap nods in understanding, remembering the last time he saw him. 

He isn't expecting Dream, once someone who stood tall and proud, whose presence demanded all of the attention in the room, to be curled into a shaking ball in the corner next to his chest. The shaking gets worse the closer the platform comes to the cell, and Sapnap can see the way Dream's jumpsuit is torn, the way there's blood staining parts that should by no means be bloodstained. Dream doesn't look up when Sapnap steps foot onto the obsidian, doesn't look up when the Netherite barrier drops, continues to not look up until Sapnap's hesitant voice bounces off the walls. 

"Dream?" 

This finally gets his attention, his head snapping up and dull green eyes meeting sparking red. Now Sapnap can take in the details that were hidden in Dream's arms. How his cheeks are hollow, how new scars trail across his face, some wounds barely healed from the poor environment. 

Sapnap takes a step toward Dream, and his heart stops in his chest at the way Dream violently tries to sink into the wall behind him. So, Sapnap sits on the floor where he stands, keeping his eyes on the crumpled, shivering form of the once most powerful man on the server -- of his friend. 

He doesn't move, even as Dream stops trembling again and looks back up, waiting for force that will never come. Slowly, once it seems Dream realizes Sapnap doesn't want to hurt him, he starts to unfurl from himself. His arms and legs are lacking the muscle mass Sapnap knew he once possessed, and the skin that's exposed is covered in dirt and blood and poorly healed injuries. It makes Sapnap sick to think about the damage he can't see, what's covered by layers of fabric, or worse, what's covered by skin and muscle. 

It takes the better part of an hour for Dream to speak up, and Sapnap's heart splinters. 

"What d'you want?" He sounds like he hasn't had anything to drink in months, his voice creaky and dry. His words, however few, are slurred and misshapen. It takes a second for the reason to click in Sapnap's head, having heard one of his own fiances have to adjust to his new speech impediment and lack of teeth on his own time. It makes his stomach churn. 

"I wanted to see you. Check in on you, y'know? See how you're holding up." His voice is softer than he intended for it to be, more somber. 

Dream looks like he doesn't know how to respond, so he doesn't. He just lets his body slump against the wall, bringing his legs back up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his knees. It’s as he's staring off into middle space that Sapnap realizes one last thing about the way Dream looks, and it genuinely makes him want to throw up, or scream, or cry. Probably all three at once, if possible. 

Several of Dream's fingers were reduced to stumps. 

The entirety of his right pinky was gone, and he was missing about half of his right ring finger. The other three remained intact, but it was obvious he'll never be able to hold an axe again. His left hand was worse off. His ring finger was gone, and the pinky was cut down to the second knuckle, almost in a sick reverse of his right hand. He was also missing the tip of his middle and pointer fingers, his thumb spared yet again. 

Sapnap chokes back a sob and has to turn away to keep his composure, forcing his tears and vomit back down. It takes him a few to steady his breathing and look back to Dream, only to find Dream looking at him first. 

"What happened to you?" Sapnap sounded even more broken, a quiet plea slipping into his words. He wanted nothing more than to hold Dream like he did when they were younger, before all of the war and strife and bloodshed. Back when they were allowed to call each other brothers.  

"Someone wanted information. I didn't give it up right away and he got violent." Dream tries to shrug, but the tremble in his shoulders makes it look more like a sick, shuddering laugh. Sapnap reluctantly notes that his earlier suspicions were correct, that Dream is now missing several of his teeth.

The temperature in the lava-covered room spikes as Sapnap's temper flares for a moment, before calming right back down into another unsettled roll of his gut. 

"Who?" His response is choked, and he doesn't think he wants to know the answer. 

Dream shakes his head frantically, tensing back up. The answer would destroy Sapnap, and Dream doesn't want that, so he keeps his mouth shut and his head down. 

Sapnap wants names, though, and he's not leaving without one. He makes up his mind right then and there that there's something fucked up going on in Pandora's Vault, and he wants to get to the bottom of it. Even if Dream grew into a monster, he knew that no one deserved whatever physical abuse Dream's been going through. 

"Is it Sam? Has he been doing this to you?" His voice shakes with fury, with sadness. Dream shakes his head again in response, before briefly shrugging.

"If it's not Sam, then he's at least letting this happen to you. Who the fuck would he let in here with- with whatever can do that much damage?" 

"You don't wanna know, Sap." The 's' is whistled through the holes in his grimace, and he still refuses to meet Sapnap's eyes. 

"I do. I need to know. I can't let them keep doing this to you." There's a few suspects running through his mind, but none of them beg for the anonymity Dream's allowing them. 

Techno wouldn't torture someone, he's not that cold-hearted, and he'd have nothing to gain from repeatedly hurting Dream. Bad could easily do this damage, but even as he's controlled by the Egg, Sapnap knows he'd never lay a finger on Dream. Wilbur and Schlatt are dead, and Ghostbur wouldn't hurt a fly. Tommy'd pussy out before doing any serious damage, and even then, the kid was so heavily traumatized by Dream that all it would take for him to back down would be a threatening smile. He also can't see Ranboo hurting anyone intentionally, or Fundy coming back from wherever he'd run off to just to hurt Dream. Nearly everyone else was left untouched by Dream's influence. Foolish barely knew him, Connor was almost completely clueless, and Puffy thought that Dream didn't deserve to see her. Everyone else was too caught up in their own business to care, so that only really left a few possible people.

Sam, Ant, Punz, and Sapnap's least favorite answer, Quackity. 

Dream already said it wasn't Sam, Ant was too busy with the Egg, and Punz was too apathetic to really care about what Dream had done to be motivated enough to mutilate one of his friends like this. That meant-

"Quackity. Is- is Quackity hurting you?" Sapnap's voice is far away, even to his own ears. He barely caught Dream's slow, shallow nod before he hides his face back in his knees. 

It made sense, unfortunately. He hasn't seen Quackity in a while, spending most of his time building Kinoko Kingdom with Karl and George. It only really just hit him that they abandoned El Rapids to hastily move to the flower forest on the outer edge of the Dream SMP, leaving Quackity alone. No one had really heard from him in a long while, and Sapnap hadn't thought to keep tabs on him, trusting his fiance to keep out of trouble.

Apparently, that was too much to ask. Sapnap knew how ruthless Quackity could be when he wanted something bad enough, knew that he was an unstoppable force. 

Dream's ragged breathing snaps Sapnap out of his thoughts, bringing his attention back to the present. Dream hadn't stopped shaking, but at least he was now looking at Sapnap again, gauging his reaction. Based on his breathing, he found something he didn't like. 

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pandas." His voice shook, tears threatening to spill out of dead eyes.

Sapnap doesn't respond, only standing. His shoulders slumped and his fists shaking at his sides. He takes a few strides across the cell before dropping down to his knees next to Dream, wrapping his arms around him. 

They sit there like that for a while, crying and shaking. Dream was far too light for Sapnap's comfort, but that just made him hold on harder. Dream even snaked his arms around Sapnap's back in return, the dull nubs of his fingers trying to grip as much of his shirt as they could. Sapnap sobs.

He pulls back first, after both of them had spent all of their tears. 

"I'm getting you out of here. Fuck what I said about taking your last life, you don't fucking deserve this." Sapnap knows his voice is rough, but the intense set of his eyes gives Dream enough reassurance to let go. 

Sapnap stands, leaving Dream on the ground, and calls for Sam to let him out. He doesn't step away from Dream until he has to, and he makes a silent promise to make sure someone pays for this.  

He ignores Sam the entire trip back through the prison, and his first thought after stepping back into sunlight is find Quackity.

[20moonchild21]

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 1

[Pairing]

bunny!JK x human!oc, Jungkook x female!oc

[Warnings]

mention of abuse, injures, angst, fluff, mention of blood, fear

[Words]

6k

[author]

Wow, I am so excited! Leave a like, comment, recommendation or reply under the chapter!

If you want to read a really good hybrid!Jimin story, you have to read inferiority complex by @starlightauroras-writes! She is the cutest author ever, and that story definitely deserves to be read! So don’t wonder if you will find some similar details, this chapter was inspired by her!

Stay healthy

Mꨄ

[prologue ||| chapter 2]

“All right everyone. That’s it for today. Have nice summer vacations, and don’t forget about the deadline of your term papers. The clock is ticking.” The man in the very front of the big room said into his microphone, but the chaos was already breaking out among the people sitting opposite of him.

The girl sitting in the front row slide her fingers faster over the keyboard, tipping in the last piece of information into her laptop, before she saved her notices and closed the thin computer.

She looked up. The room was filled with loud voices and cheering, as soon as the professor had laid his microphone down onto her desk. Immediately, people stormed out of the lecture hall, pens and paper balls were thrown all or some people yelled to each other from all over the room.

The girl sighed at this scenario. You wouldn’t think that were actually adult people, that would soon be representation the countries law and order.

Half of the people in here didn’t really care about studying law, or becoming a judge or lawyer in their future. The only thing they care about was to enjoy their college life as long as possible, which mostly included no stop partying and passing the exams with the minimum amount of points.

The other half, who cared about passing the final exams with as much points as possible, wanted to become either lawyer for economical right, because it was the best paid, or for political right, because such lawyer would always be needed.

And there was she, the girl in the very first row, who neither wanted to be a lawyer for economic right or political right, nor was she there to party trough the nights with her friends. No, she had another goal for her future.

“Miss Carson.” The professor said, as he walked around the table, looking amused at the small, blond haired girl, that was still, or better said already, reading in one of her law books. “Yet again, I see you reading in a book. Do you ever do anything else?”

The girl looked up from her book, a small smile was forming on her face.

“Yes, I do.” She said and closed the thick book. “But I want to get as much information as possible for my term paper. I really need it to be perfect. It needs to be proof to any loopholes, and I think am on something big this time.”

The professor’s left eyebrow cocked up in surprise. If someone had not to worry about getting not enough points to pass this last hurdle, it was her.

“Is that so?” He joked, leaning slightly against the big, brow desk, arms crossed over his chest. “You know that you always deliver the best terms. I don’t think you have to worry about anything.”

The girl, who was now occupied with pressing the big book into her backpack, stopped in her movements. She knew that she was one of the best students, and she also knew that she could pass those exams with little effort. This wasn’t the problem.

"I know.” She simply said and looked up at the old man leaning on the desk. “And thank you.”

“I am really excited for your terms. What topic do you write about this time?” He asked curiously.

The girl hesitated for a moment, not sure if she should tell him or not. Her final paper terms, the terms that would decide whether or not she would get a chance to fulfil all her goals, were about a very sensitive topic. She was a 100% aware of this.

But then, he would read them either way, so there was no point in lying to him.

Her heart raced, as she opened her mouth. She had known her professor of law for almost 4 years now, but writing about such a sensitive topic, she didn’t know what his opinion was on that.

“I – ehm…” She coughed, before turning back to her backpack, pressing the book into it with one smooth movement. She closed the flap and swung the piece of fabric over her shoulder, before turning back to the older man. It was now or never, she had to show confidence. “I write about the equality of Hybrids in our political everyday life. I think – there are cases where laws had obviously been disregarded, ignored or misused by judges and lawyers. And there are not just one or two of such cases. There are hundreds of them every day, there are hundreds of Hybrids who don’t get the right of protection and free speech. There is no point in denying and ignoring this anymore.”

To say that his face held a shocked expression would be an exaggeration. He looked more like he tried really hard to process the information and to find a fitting response to it. After a few seconds of silence, he opened his mouth, just to close it again. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between the index finger and thumb.

“Hope…” He said after another few seconds. “You are aware of me being not the only one who is going to read your term papers, aren’t you?”

“I know.” The girl whispered, still staring directly into his eyes.

“I appreciate your braveness to write your final exams about such a sensitive topic, and I am not going to lie, most of the professors committee won’t share the same opinion as the one you have.” His voice was calm and factual, but the girl somehow heard a touch of sadness out if it. “Are you sure you don’t want to write about political law? Your last exam was absol…”

“My term is based on facts. I neither made anything up, nor am I going to tell lies.” The girl quickly interrupted him. “There is no way someone of the committee can reject or doubt any part of my exam. I analysed every potential loophole and I can prove any of those lacks wrong, if someone say something. I even…”

“Okay, okay. I believe you, Hope.” The professor said, as he pushed himself away from the table, slowly walking up to the smaller girl. “I just want you to carefully think about what you want to specialize in the future. Hybrid lawyers are very little paid, and almost none of them gets any appreciation. You are aware of that, aren’t you?”

“I am not doing this for money or appreciation.” She quietly said under her breath. She knew he didn’t mean to sound harsh or mean towards her, but still, those words hurt. “I just – I think that I can change something in this world. There are so many people out there, that share the same opinion as I do, but are not brave enough to stand up and do something. But if I would go public with my mission, I think – I think something could really change.”

The man was still looking at the girl. He was stunned by the passion and emotions she spread while talking. He knew that her mission, as she called it, was the right thing to do in this world and that the things she said were true, but he also has been living long enough on his world to know how reality works.

He sighed as he moved his gaze away from her. Somehow, she reminded him of himself, when he way younger. She had a big heart, and a strong urge to question the thing people tell her. That made her one of the best students of his class.

“Okay.” He simply said and turned around to leave the room, but one last time he turned around. “Just be careful, Hope. This world can be hard. It will destroy you, if you are careless.”

“I will prove you that this will be worth it.” She yelled after him, as he passed the door leading to the hallway. She knew he couldn’t hear her next words, because they came out as a whisper, a promise to herself. “I know it will worth in the end.”

The night sky above New York was clear. Not a single cloud could be seen, and the dark sky looked like it was sprinkled with thousands and millions of small, shining dots. Right in the middle, the round an bright moon.

The girl took a deep breath of the clean air. It was definitely the right choice to rent an apartment a few minutes outside of New York’s centrum, where the day never seemed to take an end. But here, there were not much car driving by and pollute the air. There weren’t many people to scream at each other, because in the city trouble you couldn’t understand a word. Just peaceful silent.

The conversation from earlier was still playing round and round in her head. Her professor wasn’t a bad person. In the past, he was nothing but helpful and cooperative when it came to sensitive themes or problems. But in the end, he was like any other human: he kept his mouth shut and saved himself a lot of trouble.

But could she mind that behaviour?

Way down deep inside of her, she felt something. She just felt that deep inside of her, there was a small flame flickering. It was waiting there to be lightened with something, and she just knew that she was meant to change something.

She felt this sparkle since she was a little child. The name ‘Hope’ was given to her by her mom. Hope was born in 2029, shortly after the first Hybrids were created. Her birth caused a lot of trouble. Being born with a heart disease, the doctor predicted her to be dead within the following hours. But she hadn’t died. She survived because she got a second chance to live.

With 9 years, she had her very first encounter with a Hybrid. Her mom, who was a doctor at the local hospital, was called late in the afternoon. She was a single mom at this time, and with no one there to take care if the small girl, she decided to take her with her to the hospital.

The hospital was a very big building right in the middle of New York. It was about 10 stories hight, with several different areas for different people. They had a special section for children, for chirurgical cases, a section for people with cancer, a section for people who were about to die and want to spend their last day in a nice surrounding , and lastly, they also had a section for injured Hybrids.

Since Hybrids were half animal, half human, you couldn’t just give them to the veterinarian. This was the reason that the politicians decided that every hospital had to create a small section for Hybrids. Always isolated from the rest of the population, because some citizens were still afraid of the new creatures, and they insisted on locking them up for safety reasons.

The small, blonde haired girl had been strolling around the large building, while her mother was needed in the operation room. She hadn’t paid any attention to where she was going. Everything in that hospital had been so interesting for this small girl, she just wanted to pull in everything she saw.

As she had passed one of the patients room, she suddenly saw a movement in the corner of her eyes. She turned around. On the other side of the glass window, stood a small boy her age.

He was just standing there, staring back at the girl with wide eyes. He had shaggy brown hair that fell smoothly over his forehead, big dark eyes and was slightly taller than the girl.

But what fascinated her the most about this boy, was the pair of white ears sitting on the top of his head. They were small, covered by thick, fluffy white fur and looked absolute adorable.

She took a step closer to the boy, who was still staring at her, the same way she was staring at him.

His ear twitched slightly to different sides, as if he was trying to hear or sense ever noise coming from around him. Behind the boy, Hope saw something waving through the air. She gasped slightly, when she recognized it to be a white, fluffy tail swinging slightly through the air.

The girl had heard stories from her friends in school, that Hybrids are dangerous. They said that they would attack people if one wouldn’t be careful. They said that Hybrids don’t have control over their animal side. They said Hybrids would turn into beasts as soon you were alone with them. But this boy didn’t look scary at all. He rather looked pretty innocent and… somehow scared.

She was fascinated by this boy. She wanted to get to know him so badly all the sudden.

The girl lifted her hand, that had limply hung by her thigh. She took a step closer and carefully laid her hand on the cold, glassy window. The boy stared at her hand. His ears had stopped twisting around, and were instead standing high in the air, his eyes were wide open.

He looked down at his hands, and was about to lift it as well, when suddenly a nurse came up behind the small girl.

“What are you doing there?” She almost screamed, as she grabbed the girl by her shoulders, pulling her away from the window. “You can’t just stroll around in this section. It’s dangerous.”

The woman was pulling the girl behind her, further and further away from the boy. When Hope turned around one last time, her heart broke. The boy’s ears were flatly pressed against his head, while he fluffy tail was tightly wrapped around his leg. His eyes showed nothing but sadness.

In this moment, the girl new that this boy was threatened wrong. Why would it be dangerous for her to be with him. She just couldn’t believe someone as cute as this boys would be able to hurt someone. He was just a child.

Hope shook her head at this memory. She was still wondering what his name was, what kind of Hybrid this little boy was and why he was in the hospital. She wondered what happened to him after she was pulled away, and if he was doing fine right now. Maybe he was thinking about the moment with the 9 year old human girl too sometimes. Maybe he –

A sound ripped her out of her thoughts. She flinched heavily but stopped in her tracks, not sure if her brain had tricked her. She turned around to both side, looking for something that could have caused such a noise. But there was nothing.

Confused, she started walking again. She was clearly overworking herself, if she was already hearing strange noises. Luckily, her apartment was just around the corner. Just one more minute. As she kept walking, she slung her arms tightly around her waist. The air of the night was suddenly much colder that a few minutes before, and with just a thin cardigan to cover her, she felt slightly cold.

Crack. Crash.

The girl shrugged when a crashing sound rang through her ears. This was obviously not an imagination from her brain. That noise came from the dark alley, that she was just about to pass. Immediately, she took a small step backwards.

If someone was hiding in there, waiting for the right moment to come out and hurt her, there would be nothing she could defend herself with. A shiver ran down her spine. She should take her feet and ran away from that scary, dark alley like her mother had always told her, but somehow she couldn’t. Something was pulling her towards that dark passage.

She gulped loudly, but decided to take the risk.

“H – Hello?” She carefully called into the darkness, hoping to not get an answer, so she could just keep walking home. But if someone was hurt in there, she had to help him or her.

“Hello? Is someone there?” She called again when she didn’t received an answer.

She carefully took another step forward, trying to make something out in the darkness. Further down the alley, she saw the faint outline of some trash dumpsters standing around, surrounded by many trash bags.

She let out a breath of relief. No one was in there. It was probably just a cat jumping onto one of the dumpsters, which caused that noise. She turned around, and started walking again, when suddenly she heard another, clearer noise.

“mmmhhh…”

This time she was sure that it was a person causing that noise. With shaking legs, Hope decided to walk a little further into the alley. If someone was lying there hurt, he probably couldn’t answer her calls. And if someone was waiting there for her…..she didn’t want to think about it further.

She took baby steps into the dark alley, still careful if someone was hiding there. When she was about 5m inside the dark passage, she was completely surrounded by darkness. She couldn’t make out a single outline of something, not even of the dumpsters.

With shaking hands and no other idea left, she grabbed for her phone inside her pocket. She pulled it out and clicked on the small flashlight symbol.

With the small source of light, she tried to make something out.

About 3 meters in front of her, she saw a red, brick stone wall climbing up into the air. A dead end.

She aimed the light into the right corner, where she saw nothing but trash bags and dust laying messily around. Some of them were ripped open by cats, giving away a heavy and disgusting stank. She wrinkled her nose. People were so wasteful these days…

She aimed the light into the other corner, where the trash dumpsters were placed. It was tight and trashed there as well. No chance someone could hide here. It was probably just the cat theory or she really got paranoid. She shook her head and was about to leave again, when something caught her eyes.

Between the wall and the last dumpster was a small crack left, a crack with bare feet sticking out. The girl tried to hold back a scream. She only saw that pair of bare feet. Nothing more. Would there be a body to those feet? If yes, which body, and if no….

“H – Hello?” She whispered/yelled again. “Who are you?”

When she aimed her light into the direction of the feet, they were pulled away with a sudden movement, now hidden by the dumpster. The girl took a deep breath, as she forced herself to take another step forward. She aimed the light once again in the direction of the crack. She saw those feet again, and this time even more. She could make out a pair of legs connected to the pair of feet, along with two arms, that were tightly wrapped around the legs.

She could tell that this someone was a boy, because his hands and feet looked much bigger than hers. Slowly, Hope bent her knees so she was on the level of his sitting body. He obviously was scared, and her standing above him, flashing him with her flash lights wouldn’t probably help him to feel less scared.

When she sat on her knees, she lifted the light again, letting it rose up his body. His feet and calves were bare, as well as his arms. Everywhere on his pale skin, she could make out smaller bruises and scratches. His feet and fingers were ripped open and bloody, and his arms and legs were almost as thin as hers.

But she was even more shocked when the light hit his face. The biggest pair of brown eyes she had ever seen were staring back at her, filled with nothing but pure fear. His plump cheeks were covered with dirt, bruises and wet stains of tears. His lips were bloody and crusty, also covered in dirt and dust. His dark, shaggy hair was covering his forehead, and on the top of his had sat a dark pair of large floppy ears.

The boy quickly seemed to snap out of his shock stare, when he realised the girl staring at him, not saying anything. He tried to push himself further backwards towards the wall. The arms around his bent knees tightened, as he let out a small whimper. His floppy ear moved forward to cover his eyes from her gaze.

It was obvious that this boy was a bunny Hybrid ,but that didn’t change the fact that Hope was shocked from the boy‘s appearance. He clearly needed help.

„Hey....boy.“ She carefully whispered into his direction, not wanting to scare him more away by a loud voice.

But despite her effort to not sound too scary, the injured boy began to slightly shake stronger.

„Hey...don’t be scared. Please, I don‘t want to hurt you. I promise.“ She felt the tears swelling up under her eyes.

The poor boy must have been through hell and back, or else he wouldn’t be reacting like that. She was pretty sure that someone had caused those injures on his body. It was ridiculous to talk about a change of minds, when the truth was, that nothing had changed at all. Human race was still as ignorant and careless and addicted to control as they have been before.

The girl took a deep breath. She needed to stay calm and focused, or else the bunny Hybrid would feel her fear. After all, his senses were animal-like, and he had probably heard her heartbeat or smelled the sweet running down her neck.

A loud, deep noise caused a yelp leaving the girl‘s and the boy‘s mouth. The sky above them had darkened with heavy clouds, and the smell of rain slowly replaced the clear night air. She turned her attention from the sky, back towards the boy who was ,once again, shaking with fear.

Hope knew what she was going to do next would be a heavy invasion of his privacy, but it was the only way, that might would help him in this situation.

She slowly let the backpack sliding down her shoulder, careful to not make too much movements. When it laid down on the floor, she pulled down the zipper of her grey cardigan.

The zipping noise that her jacked had caused, must have made the Hybrid curious, because almost unnoticeably, he lifted his right ear that was still covering his eyes. Through the small gap, he carefully peeked at the girl in front of him, watching as she pulled off the jacket, leaving her in just a thin, blue shirt.

A whimper left is mouth, ear covering his eye again, as the girl crawled closer into his direction, stopping just a few inches away from the bunny Hybrid. She leaned her body forward and placed the soft piece of fabric over the boy’s trembling shoulders. She didn’t know if the trembling had increased because she came way too close to him, or because of the sudden coldness that filled the alley way.

„No...p – please...no.“ The boy tried to pull away weakly, as his shoulders were met with the soft fabric of the jacket.

His was raspy and cracked a few times as he spoke.

„Please, don’t be afraid of me.“ The girl tried again to win a small amount of the boy’s trust, so he would at least look at her. „I am not going to hurt you. See, the jacket is warm, isn’t it?“

The boy didn’t answer. He just kept sitting on the ground, with his arm around his knees and his eyes closed.

Meanwhile, the clouds had started to let go their watery content, and small wet drops fell from the ground.

„Please, you need to come with me. It’s not safe out here at night, and a thunderstorm is raising up.“ Her voice was almost begging for him to trust her. She didn’t want to leave him here alone, injured and all by himself. „My apartment is warm, and I have food and something to drink for you. Please, trust me.“

The boy didn’t move an inch. He curled himself further together, hiding away from her. It was more than obvious that he was scared, and slowly she was losing hope that he would come with her. Plus, she couldn’t force him either.

She sighed and slowly stood up from her kneeling position.

„I will be back.“ She simply said to the boy, as she turned around to leave the alley.

Thanks god her apartment was just one minute around the corner. If he didn’t want to come with her, she would at least bring him a warm blanket for the night and something warm for his stomach. He must be freezing so much with just a pair of shorts covering his slim body.

She was about to start walking, when she heard him whimpering behind her again. The Hybrid had removed both of his ears from his eyes, which were now staring at her intensely. As if they were begging her not to leave the alley. She kneeled back down onto his height.

„You don’t want me to leave, do you?“ It was more a question to herself, but to her surprise the boy nodded almost unnoticeable. His eyes were opened wide and glassy, as his lips began to tremble slightly.

Meanwhile in his head, he was battling with himself. He was injured and cold, and this girl promised him a warm place to spend the night. She had a really soft and calming voice, that he would listen to all night of he had the chance.

But then, she wanted to leave him. Not that he was not used to that, but no one ever had talked to him in such a calming voice. For a short moment, he really believed that everything was going to be okay again.

„My apartment is just around the corner.“ The tone of her sweet voice rang through his ears again. „I won’t force you to come with me, but you are welcome to spend the night there, if you like.“

„Home, Sweet Home.“ The girl joked as she pushed open the white door leading into her apartment.

When the boy behind her didn’t show any reaction but staring at her, she eventually noticed that her joke wasn’t appropriate referring to the situation they were in. A shade of red began to spread over her cheeks, and she quickly stepped inside.

The boy meanwhile hesitate to step inside. He shoved his bare feet back and forth over the cold marbled tiles of the hallway, while his fingers fiddled the hem girl‘s jacket. His eyes were fixed on the ground.

„You can come inside, you know?“ She said with a soft voice, as she held the door open for the Hybrid boy.

When the boy took the first step inside, he immediately was surround by the most comfortable warmth he had ever felt before. Slowly, it flowed under his skin, filling every last corner of his body.

His feet didn’t touch some cold marble anymore. Instead, the wooden piles felt soft and also warm under his bare feet. He didn’t knew that the floor could feel this soft.

But the most prominent thing hitting him, was the smell filling his nose. The apartment smelled like....the girl.

The scent of a living being was something very special. The smell wasn’t something you could compare to the smell of vanilla or green apple or the smell of sweat. It was more like a kind of an aura that surrounded a human or Hybrid. An individual feature, that most human aren’t aware of, but yet, everyone has his own scent.

“Ehm…” The girl in front of him cleared her throat, and the Hybrid could smell how uncomfortable she felt.

Scared of being punished, he took a small step backwards, pressing his ears closer to his head. This gesture wasn’t unnoticed by the small girl. She took a big step back as well, carefully not to make her movements to jerky.

“I am sorry.” She quickly rambled. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just – I just don’t know what to say. I – Oh my god, you must feel so cold. I will get you some clothes. Just wait here.”

The boy watched her slim form disappear behind a door down the hallway. A few seconds later, she came back with a pile of fabric in her arms. He wondered what she wanted to do with them.

“I am sorry, but I don’t have any male clothes.” She said, as she dropped the pile onto the grey sofa, which stood in the corner of the living room. “But – but this are my largest clothes. Maybe they will fit you?”

The boy was still standing by the door, looking with wide eyes around the room, before their gazes met. He wasn’t looking in the clothes that were sprawled out for him on the sofa. Instead, he kept looking at the girl, but not as if he was studying the girl’s features, more like he was waiting for a comment.

Unsure what to do, Hope stepped a few inches away from the couch, wanting to give him more space.

“You can try them on. Just – just choose the ones you like.” She almost whispered, as she pointed her finger onto the clothes.

Though the boy nodded, his head dropped down. His hands were slightly shaking, as he made small baby steps towards the sofa. Carefully, he lifted his hand up towards his shoulder and pulled off the grey cardigan she had given him earlier. He placed it carefully onto the sofa, looking up at the girl, as if he was waiting for a permission to keep going.

It took Hope everything to not stare at the bruises and scratches that were covering his upper body. Trying not to break down in tears, she forced out a smile and nodded, showing him that it was okay to keep going.

He then he did something she hadn’t expected. Without showing any hesitation or shame, he grabbed the hem of his dirty shorts and pulled them down.

“Oh – ehm – okay. You want to change here.” She quickly turned around, not wanting to invade his privacy even more. But by the way he didn’t show any hint of hesitation, she could guess that he was not used to get any private space. “Okay keep changing, I will just go to the kitchen and make something quick to eat.”

With her head as red as a tomato, she made her way over to the kitchen. Luckily, the kitchen was connected with the living room by small hatch, so he would see her and she could watch him.

Her hands were trembling with anger. She didn’t want to think about what the poor boy had been through. She didn’t want to think about how many times he had been humiliated or showed off, just to pleasure someone’s evil mind.

In this moment, she made a promise to herself. She would fight for this boy and any other Hybrid out there. She would show him all the love and affection she carried in her heart, just to prove him that he is worth living.

But this incident wouldn’t be the last one at this day. When she was done warming up the soup from the night before, she carried the pot over to the table, that was already set. Over the whole time, the boy had watched her carefully, and every time their eyes met, he quickly dropped his gaze to the floor, as if he didn’t want to pull any attention onto him.

“Come one, dinner is ready.” She said, as she carefully sat down at the table. “You need something warm in your stomach.”

The boy nodded quickly, before he slowly walked towards the table. As he was just a few inches away from her, he bent his knees and kneeled down onto the floor next to her, then he folded his hands in his lap and sunk his head down.

“I know it isn’t much, but….What are you doing?” The girl asked confused, as she watched the boy.

Scared that he might had done something wrong, he dared to look up at the girl. To his surprise, she didn’t look mad or angry at all. Her big brown eyes were wide open and her mouth was slightly parted.

“I am sorry.” The boy whispered with his raspy voice, as he closed his eyes. “I am sorry.”

“You – you don’t have to be sorry for anything. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The girl whispered back with a shaking voice.

Seeing the boy so broken and scared in front of her, made her heart break. A big tear slipped out of her left eye, dropping onto her leggings. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before she looked at the boy. She didn’t want to make him feel more insecure than he already was, so she whipped the tear away with the sleeve of her shirt.

“I am sorry. I am a little bit emotional.” She said, still drying her stained cheeks. “You don’t need to sit on the ground, you know? Please, take a seat on the chair.”

The Hybrid looked up from his kneeling position. He didn’t know whether the small girl was serious about him being allowed to sit on the chair. At the table. With a human.

He gulped. Should he take the risk and actually take a seat? What if she tricked him? What if she would punish him for sitting at the table?

Slowly, he pushed himself up from the ground. The girl was still smiling at him, as he pulled the chair backwards. He sat down and immediately folded his hands together in his lap, like he was supposed to do.

He watched as the girl took the plate that stood in front of him, putting some ladles of soup onto it. He felt his mouth watering as the smell hit his nose. He wanted to take a taste so badly, but he would have to control himself, not wating to make a wrong move.

“You don’t have to wait for anything. You can just eat, if you like.” Once again she showed him this gentle smile, before she lifted her spoon and began to eat her own plate.

Carefully, he lifted his own spoon towards his mouth. The soup tasted amazing and every nerve on his tongue seemed to explode because of all the different and new flavours.

He took another spoon, and another one, and another one, not caring anymore if he was doing something wrong. This was his first warm meal in days, and his first ‘human meal’ he had ever eaten. His hunger took control over him.

“You seem to like it.” The girl chuckle as she watched the boy shoving one spoon after another into his mouth.

The boy’s head shot up, nodding quickly. He shoved the last spoon full of soup into his mouth, leaving back an empty plate one the table. As he realized that he had eaten all the soup, a small shade of red spread over his cheeks, while his ears pressed themself further onto his head. Almost sad, he laid the piece of metal next to the empty plate.

“You can have another plate, if you like.” She said and his head shot up, nodding quickly once again.

They boy shoved soup after soup into his mouth, as if this was his last meal he would ever get to eat. But Hope didn’t mind. She watched him closely.

He was so absorbed in eating his dinner. His cheeks, that were so pale out in the alley, had now a slight shade of red spreading over them. His eyes didn’t show fear anymore, instead they were held a small sparkle every time he saw her refilling his empty plates. And his ear weren’t pressed against his head anymore, but they would sometimes go up and down while he was eating.

All in all, he looked absolute adorable.

“I – I never introduced myself.” The girl suddenly realized. “My name is Hope. I live here in this apartment. You don’t have to tell me your name or what happened to you, if you don’t want to. I just want you to know, that in this house, you are safe. No one is going to hurt you or force you to do anything here, and you are more than welcome to stay as long as you like.”

The boy’s movements slowed down a little bit, but he didn’t turned his attention off of his meal. He kept eating for another 5 minutes of silent, before he laid his spoon down. He folded his hands again in his lap and suddenly mumbled something under his breath.

“I am sorry, but I didn’t understand what you said.” She said softly, as his big brown eyes stared into hers.

“My name…Jungkook.”

[prolouge ||| chapter 2]